#I might be wrong of course but since the common stance seems to be that the only things that should be attacker-sided are melee weapons

[robotsprinkles]

hm.

so for some reason fromsoft decided a bunch of the high-damage high stagger weapons that can chunk half your health or more in a single hit should be attacker-sided.

which means if the latency is ass then your opponent will hit you with attacks that completely miss you on your screen — and when I say completely miss I mean their laser/bazooka shell/etc is straight up at least a full fifteen to twenty to a full hundred metres away from your ac

(not an exaggeration)

and you'll still eat all that damage and impact because while fromsoft are amazing at game design and art direction and all that their netcode is hot garbage

like I still love the game but god is it frustrating dying to someone because they shoot at a point a hundred metres away from you in the sky while you're standing on the ground and instantly stagger you and delete half your ap

[terminatorbuns]

The Deep Cut Deep Dive: Overthinking the Deep Cut Dynamic in Excruciating Detail (An essay by @TerminatorBuns)

This was originally posted on Reddit, but I want to share with Tumblr to see if Tumblr likes this format more. Also because I'm close to finishing a second essay about Deep Cut, focusing on Frye.

Deep Cut is great, I love them, and their relationship dynamic lives rent free in my head. The one thing Nintendo did for us this time is drop story mode lore for Deep Cut on Day 1, and it has fleshed out their relationship dynamic in IMMENSE detail, enough to rival what we know about Off the Hook. How much detail are we talking about, you might ask? A FUCKING LOT it turns out! We're talking about Tableturf secrets, we're talking about Frye's feet, we're talking about the implications of Big Man's breakfast on the course of his artistic development, this shit goes DEEP. I don't know who needs to hear this but Splatoon idol lore is the meatiest part of Splatoon world building and an absolutely BONKERS ride. I want to take you through that journey if you haven't been on it before, or just need more fuel for your lore headcanons.

I wish this was a bit more academic but I didn't have the time and patience to cite everything with game screenshots, so I'm assuming whoever is reading this has already played the story mode and has a rough idea of what I'm talking about. Spoilers obviously. At the very least I hope this will be an entertaining rant, feel free to yell at me in comments about stuff I got wrong, I welcome the discourse.

1. A Bunch of Theatre Nerds

Deep Cut primarily differs from Off the Hook in one way: they do not specialize in music, but in THEATRE. Each of the two humanoid idols are designed from the ground up to represent two different forms of traditional Japanese theatre, and it ties deeply into their dual roles in the game. The important takeaway is that each idol excels in one art, but struggles at the other, and we will explore what this means. Let's talk about Shiver and Frye; Big Man is a special case, we'll have to put a pin in him and come back to that.

2. Shiver is Rakugo

Shiver is a performer of Rakugo, or Japanese seated story telling. Deep Cut's day job as newscasters is represented as a Rakugo performance, and Shiver brings a fan and a little table to the job, both common props in Rakugo. Shiver exhibits all the qualities of a strong Rakugo artist, she sits in a Seiza kneeling position with excellent posture, and delivers the news with wit and poise. She has excellent, sharp facial expressions that she directs straight at the audience, she uses her fan to gesture in ways to attract attention, and she punctuates her delivery by tapping her fan against her table to create little sound cues for a listener. Her approach to drawing an audience to her words is multilayered and complex, and her vocal skills as a storyteller seems to parallel her strong vocals when singing (not that you can tell how good her diction is since she speaks in warbly Squid-Gibberish).

Frye is much less skilled by contrast, for a number of reasons. She doesn't even attempt to sit in a Seiza stance, and in fact can barely sit still without attempting to wiggle off her cushion. From a general speaking perspective, Frye fails to establish eye contact with the audience because she's always staring at the other two performers, whoever is speaking at the time. She also lacks all of Shiver's propwork and has no intentionality in her gestures. She compensates for her weak delivery with goofy, high energy antics that are charming in her own way, and this is what earned Frye a reputation as a fidgety gremlin baby compared to the cool, sophisticated Shiver. Before launch that was everyone's impression of Frye, but the arrival of story mode dropped a massive bomb on us that flips the dynamic COMPLETELY UPSIDE DOWN. Feet are involved, let's discuss.

3. Frye is Kabuki

Story mode showed us Deep Cut as a hilarious team rocket like villain team, but the bigger takeaway is that we finally see Frye in her preferred art form: Kabuki stage performance. Frye's entire villain persona is a stage act, she thrives as a stage villain and has the charisma and skills to back it up. I should note that Frye doesn't practice pure Kabuki with all of its strict discipline, but Frye isn't full, or even partially Japanese herself, since she's very much South East Asian in design. She has her own, maybe(?) SEA inspired take on stage performance, but some of her stances in the later sections of story mode are unmistakably Kabuki, it's clear where she draws inspiration for her style from.

Villain Frye is amazing, she's confident and charismatic, and genuinely menacing in demeanor before her fight. She has a professional code of conduct as a villain: she states her intentions clearly, paying respect to the player before her boss fight and offering to negotiate before fighting. She's the only one who correctly uses her smoke bomb correctly to make a dramatic exit, and she names all of her meticulously choreographed attack patterns like a proper anime villain.

Conversely, story mode is where we finally see Shiver struggle. Her villain performance is fun, yet inconsistent: she's unnecessarily melodramatic and overacts every scene, and she throws petty insults at you before breaking character to just try to run you over with a shark-bike. She fumbles her smoke bomb and becomes increasingly frustrated everytime you knock her down, unlike Frye who doesn't break character and recovers immediately after she is downed. Shiver still makes a fun, campy comedy relief villain, but she visibly loses the confidence and dignity she had as a Rakugo performer, highlighting how much she is out of her element. In Shiver's defense, she does manage to pull off that absurd sleight of hand in her intro where she switches her mask for her fan while delivering the spiciest piercing gaze, while Frye just chucks her mask off screen instead. Once again Shiver's dexterity in her face and her hands are her strongest tools.

4. Frye's feet

I feel like an absolute lunatic writing this section, but I assure you there is genuinely a need to discuss this topic in length. Forget Frye's forehead for a second, her FEET are easily her most important assets. Frye uniquely emotes with her feet more than any other idol the same way Shiver emotes with her hands, except Shiver's hands don't have enough lore significance to fill a whole section. Frye's feet DO. I would go so far as to say Frye's feet are one of the most SIGNIFICANT visual tools we have for contextualizing the difference between Frye and Shiver's entire professional art forms. Strap in.

For starters, Frye's footwork is MONSTROUSLY powerful. Take a look at her during her boss fight, she's playing an instrument, and hopping up and down on an Octostomp like it's a goddamn circus ball. It doesn't take a single eel hit to knock her off balance, you have to send her ENTIRE eel army at her before you can knock her down! I think the eels inside her Octostomp are moving it, so in theory she's not piloting it with pure foot power, but also she kicks it onto its side before she starts blowing into her flute?!! I have no idea, I can barely comprehend what is happening here.

At the same time, her feet fully solidifies her ties to Kabuki. Kabuki is an art form done without shoes, and since she performs her villain persona outdoors, she doesn't wear shoes anywhere. Kabuki is also a full body art form which requires precision footwork, and she has that in spades. This is in stark contrast to Shiver, whose seated Rakugo performance has no footwork whatsoever. Shiver's footwork is comparatively weak as a result.

Don't get me wrong, Shiver has enough footwork to dance in blocky Geisha shoes (I've been told they are Okobo shoes), but it's in a stage performance capacity where Shiver's footwork completely falls apart. Shiver doesn't know how to express body language through footwork, so she DOESN'T. Shiver stands completely in place during her villain performance and tries to compensate with her upper body expressions, but this lets Frye completely dominate her in stage presence. In most scenes with both idols, Frye physically takes up more of the screen through footwork: she positions herself one or more steps TOWARDS the audience and literally looks BIGGER as a result. Frye's full body poses are also wide and faces the audience/camera at an angle that maximizes her surface area to attract visual interest, which is a core Kabuki concept that, again, requires intentional footwork and positioning. Shiver poses with her feet together and her body turned to the side, so her screen presence is minimal every single time. In fact, she uses her feet so little in her villain performance that she's the one member of Deep Cut that fights on a vehicle and has no mobility of her own!

At the same time, Frye's feet are double edged swords and her greatest weaknesses. Take a look at Frye while she is newscasting, what is she doing in her default pose? Yeah that's right, HOLDING HER FEET. Her Kabuki background is so used to full body acting that she's restless sitting still, and she's holding down her feet because they literally want to EXIT THE PREMISES. Every once in a while she fails to contain herself and kicks off in every direction, threatening to kick a hole in Big Man's TV and boot Shiver's table off the stage. Frye's feet are a MENACE.

5. Big Man and Amateurism

Remember at the beginning we put a pin in Big Man? His arms are getting tired so we're letting him down from the wall now.

So how does Big Man fit into this dynamic? Nintendo confirmed that he is their composer, so he provides a music background to the team whereas the other two are theatre nerds. Big Man is unique in that his talents are largely background work, unlike our other two idols who specialize in stage work. However, that makes him a bit of an outlier in terms of theatrical performance. He follows Shiver and Frye around to both their performances but doesn't have much proficiency in either one. As a newscaster he stumbles over his words often, and his villain persona is just his regular persona but slightly angrier. He doesn't really dance and sing particularly well either, there's a sequence in the Anarchy Rainbow choreography where Big Man nearly smacks the other two idols out of clumsiness. Big Man is an odd duck in the Deep Cut trio, and yet, this is a central aspect of his design and his appeal, it's kind of the point.

The central theme of the Deep Cut dynamic is Amateurism, and this ties into Splatoon 3's core theme of Chaos. Each humanoid idol is a master at a specific performance art, and an amateur at the other art form, but the important part is that they show up anyways to clown around, and that in and of itself adds a distinct flavor to the performance despite their individual weaknesses. The chaos of Splatoon 3 is the contrast between a professional artist on a stage next to two absolute goobers, and the chaotic, yet dynamic performance that results from three artists of different skill levels colliding. In that sense, Big Man is the true amateur who shows up to everything in an effort to contribute, and his bumbling inexperience is extremely lovable. This is in direct contrast to the Off the Hook dynamic, as both members of Off the Hook are musically talented and completely aligned in their artistic interests, while the members of Deep Cut have differing interests but will always show up for each other, like absolute BROS.

The Big Man discussion does not end here, however. Big Man's sunken scroll depicts him as a member of the prestigious Manta Clan, with the fanciest dining set while the text describes the Manta Clan's meticulous breakfast habits. Shiver and Frye's sunken scrolls, in contrast, describe the ancient artistic history that both of them descend from. Jumping into story theories at this point, I would personally guess that Big Man comes from a different economic background than the other two. Splatsville appears to have the aesthetics of a rural city after a rapid expansion, many of the buildings are cluttered and old looking in contrast to some infrastructure that looks very new. If we assume that Shiver and Frye's families have lived in this area for quite some time, it would be quite likely that they were poor or middle class, partially explaining their concern for the underprivileged citizens of Splatsville. Big Man on the other hand looks like he comes from the richest, snobbiest kind of high society family. He's a fancy fancy boy.

The more important takeaway is this: Big Man seems to come from a family background that prioritizes formality and rules over personal expression. From this we can make an educated guess that Big Man started his theatrical journey LATER IN LIFE. Shiver and Frye could easily have been practicing stage performance from early childhood through their family history, but Big Man's family traditions doesn't lend itself well to open self expression, and whatever artistic ability he might have gained through his family does not translate well to the stage! Big Man's exposure to theatre would have happened outside of his family, possibly after he gained some amount of independence from them. I'd hazard a guess that his friendship with Frye and Shiver might even be the starting point of his stage career!

Shiver and Frye are letting Big Man, maybe even encouraging him, to perform with them on stage despite him being a relative newcomer to theatre. There's relatively little judgement, they too understand that all artists have been amateurs at some point in their journey, and continue to be amateurs at other art forms even after mastering their own. My boy is doing his absolute best to perform alongside his theatrical seniors and it's so precious. This dynamic is wholesome beyond my wildest expectations, I am HEALED.

6. Tableturf and Artistic Priorities

I added this section last because I only discovered this information after I had completed my original draft, and Nintendo is actively fucking with me at this point. Each of the three idols have personality traits that come through in their TABLETURF dialogue, of all places, and it's kind of the final piece that makes the Deep Cut dynamic click for me. Through their tableturf dialogue we learn a lot about each member's priorities as an artist, enough for us to explore in detail.

Shiver is an audience focused artist. Her focus in tableturf is centered on you, the opponent, and she makes it a matter of personal pride to compete against you and she takes her victories and losses very personally. No matter the outcome she requests a rematch, because her priority is the opponent's experience, as she seeks the approval of her audience. Her eye contact and graceful mannerisms are as sharp as ever up close as she is on stage. This plays well with the second aspect of her artistry, which is the fact that she has a Geisha aesthetic in addition to her Rakugo specialty. Hospitality and direct conversational interactions are a part of both jobs, even if she secretly has a bit of an ego and barely resists gloating if she wins.

Big man is a self-focused artist. He comes off as awkward and shy in a tableturf match, and we get to see a little bit of the bubbling insecurity behind Big Man's jolly smile. Big man's lack of stage performance abilities translates into his social interactions as well, and he uses self deprecation to downplay his abilities and expects to lose, being pleasantly surprised if he wins. What Big Man is primarily looking for is a kind of self-acceptance, as an amateur artist he wants to hone his abilities to a point that he can be confident in himself, and he shows the same anxiety in his social interactions and tableturf games. No matter if he wins or loses, his primary focus is on his own performance, and he mostly comments on whether or not he has met his own expectations. Every small victory seems to do great things for his self esteem and you just want this boy to be happy, let him win at card games.

Frye's tableturf mannerisms is the most interesting, as it turns out, and is actually the reason I even wrote this section (my Frye bias strikes again). The most important detail is that she fails to make eye contact with the player, AGAIN, just like when she's newscasting! At face value this is VERY strange: in the news room she is clearly staring at whoever's talking, but in a direct conversation with you, why does she still not look at you? I've also seen people complaining that she's one of the only players that insults the player after a win and makes no attempt to console the player, and that is completely true. What isn't very obvious is the additional layer of meaning in the same win dialogue that really clarifies her priorities in the moment, and this is a CRUCIAL piece of Frye's characterization. When she wins her first instinct is to tell SHIVER and BIG MAN about her victory.

Remember that Kabuki is a stage performance with multiple artists in multiple roles. Rakugo can be performed solo, and Big Man seems to compose solo as well, but Frye's Kabuki actively requires the participation of other artists, it is a collaborative performancr. This brings us to the realization that Frye is a uniquely TEAM focused artist amongst Deep Cut: her top priority is her bandmates, at all times! Frye NEEDS Deep Cut, her personal style of theatre doesn't even work without friends, and she's fixated on maintaining her friend group as a result. Frye is able to focus on an audience when she is actively doing her job as a Kabuki artist, but any other time she starts spacing out because she simply spends all her energy thinking about ways to impress her bandmates! She comes off as dismissive to the player, because her mind is literally wandering to her band friends, even when they are not around! Deep Cut means the world to Frye in a way that isn't as meaningful for her friends, and she's made herself into the glue that holds this friend group together; Frye is very much the heart of the Deep Cut trio. Frye's dedication to her friends is the actual CUTEST detail in this entire game, I CANNOT believe they hid this information in tableturf. Why is Nintendo like this?!!

7. Conclusion

Splatoon's world building is extremely art centric, and the lore they write for their fictional artists is some of their best, most detailed work. Looking at Splatoon lore through an artistic lens is extremely rewarding because there are secrets and details everywhere. I've obsessed over Off the Hook's similarly complicated character dynamic in the past, and Deep Cut is really making me relive those memories like that dude from Ratatouille, it's hitting me HARD.

In some ways even this write up is only a surface reading, I'm no expert on traditional Japanese theatre or SEA culture and I have no idea how many details can be uncovered by an actual expert. I also have no music background and the Splatoon team hides fricking lore in the fricking OST and I cannot begin to unpack any of that. I fully expect that there's more details I've missed or have gotten wrong, but I hope I've at least established how deep this rabbit hole goes, and how much fun it is to dig through Splatoon lore instead of getting enough sleep.

Anyways the next time someone asks me why Frye is best girl I'm gonna have 3000 words of documentation to show them.

8. Miscellaneous notes

- What is going on with Shiver's shoes, they don't have straps, how do they stay on? Are they glued to her socks? Does she have to take the sock part off to remove the shoe? She has to take her shoes off to perform on a tatami mat, but we can't see what's going on back there feet wise since she has a Rakugo table in front. Is her lower body even rendered back there? I draw fan art, I need to know this stuff.

- Shiver likes to take jabs at Big Man sometimes that he struggles to respond to, being a less experienced conversationalist and just socially awkward in general. It's not necessarily malicious, however, Shiver could just be giving him opportunities to practice his conversation skills and keep him in the discussion. Plus he's very cute when flustered, I dunno that Shiver can resist prodding him.

- Big man is differently abled in a very literal sense. He has no hands or feet with which to emote, he's trying his best to express himself with his flappy fins. He barely has functional vocal cords, just going AY and making warbling fish noises all the time. Big Man's body isn't great at singing or dancing, but it is very good at things that Manta Rays are traditionally good at. He mentions being able to filter feed, and his mobility is remarkably good in swim form. Big Man is also a pretty dangerous predator unless you have the sensor upgrade.

- Shiver's family situation is kind of a mystery, how do they have a tradition of Shark taming if Octarian society is a militaristic dictatorship run by DJ Octavio? I suspect that Shiver was never a part of his army and there are Octarians living outside of his rule. She's definitely a Splatlands native, members of Octavio's Octo Canyon army should have been able to identify Callie and Marie easily.

- Shiver's aesthetic shifts to a violent Bōsōzoku biker gang aesthetic when she boards Master Mega, since he's outfitted with motorcycle parts and wears those bad boy sunglasses. It's a sharp contrast to her polite Geisha presentation, and so is her entire villain persona. This is what I mean when I say Shiver's performance style is inconsistent, but Shiver's two-faced presentation is also super fun to watch and kind of her entire appeal. There's an aggressive pettiness underneath the polite outward presentation and the gap between her two personalities is peak comedy. - I only just recently realized that she's a Geisha with a shaved punk cut and that's amazing: https://www.reddit.com/r/splatoon/comments/xk5mtx/did_yall_notice_shivers_head_is_supposed_to_be/

[staarshines]

You. 6/3: Protective You is Cute || P.D.

| You. Masterlist | Note that this can be read as a oneshot; just ignore the first and last parts.

Warnings: cursing. baby argument but the idiots to lovers type yk. there’s no plot here i just needed to write it to get a feel for how to write again after a few years. cheers

Word Count: >1k

Poe decides to snoop around in your datapad and discovers a folder called “You”. Upon opening it and reading through the entries, memories are brought back and he discovers something he was never supposed to know about.

A/N: has it been years since i’ve updated? yeah. am i going to annoy you all again? yeah. is jess going to be the only one to read this? yeah.

I’m currently traveling to my first solo mission right now. Listen. I don’t know why I’m journaling this, but I am (that seems to be a common theme). Maybe it’s because hyperdrive star streaks have started reminding me of you, maybe it’s because when you ran your thumb over my cheek it felt different. I’m probably just insane. I don’t know. If you’re reading this, then I’m not. Reason 1A I wrote this entry: the next time you go protective on me, I might just kiss you. Reason 1B I wrote this entry: do that thing again with your thumb and my cheek, and I might profess my love to you right then and there.

You’re excitedly talking to Rey and Finn, turning your nerves into extroversion—like you always did, of course.

Poe, on the other hand, isn’t as excited as you are.

He’s practically seething from afar—the three of you had noticed.

“Ten credits he’s upset he’s not going with you,” Rey says out of nowhere. You stop trying to discreetly read Poe’s body language and tear your eyes from him to her, tilting your head.

“Ten credits he’s jealous,” Finn counters, and Rey and Finn shake hands.

“It’s something more than that. He seems worried,” you mumble, still trying to read his stance. Being able to read other’s body language and even microchanges in their tone resulted from your childhood trauma and years of throwing yourself into dangerous situations on various planets—a gift you had found from life’s rather big ‘fuck you’s’ along the way.

“And you’re worried that he’s worried. Force connection,” Rey says, flashing a cheeky smile and pointing to the both of you, making you grab her hand and put it down.

“You’ll say anything nowadays to get me with him,” you tell her, leaning back against your X-Wing. Finn just pulls his lips out into a line, raising his eyebrows.

“Rey’s right. Force connection.” You scoff.

“Then you two can talk about yours while I go figure out what’s on the flyboy’s mind,” you drop that bomb on the two of them, particularly Rey, walking Poe’s way. He tilts his head while you walk towards him, arms crossed in more of a way of comforting himself than being closed off.

“Hi,” you whisper, unsure of why it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Maybe it was because when you were around him, you felt like the rest of the world melted away into nothing.

But that was a topic you’d address when you came back from Lwhekk.

You just keep running away from it, didn’t you?

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re going in alone. Without backup. And without comms.” It had started to be like this with you two. Blunt, straight to the point. It was an unspoken agreement to cut the bullshit and just tell each other what was going on.

Except for when it came to you being in love with him, of course. A rule you’d made for yourself.

What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?

“But I have years of tactical combat skills. And I know how to handle myself.”

“Doesn’t change any of that.”

“Poe, I can handle myself.”

“But can you handle First Order respondents?” he snaps back, making you look up to the sky littered with clouds and sigh. “You’ve been here less than a month.”

“Are you questioning Leia’s judgement or my capabilities?” He cocks an eyebrow.

This had gone from zero to whatever speed Han Solo did the Kessel Run at in approximately seven seconds.

“I’m not questioning anything.”

“Well then there’s something you’re not saying, Dameron.” He glances up at you, and you can read everything from his eyes.

He just wanted reassurance that you would be okay. That you would come back to him.

Of course.

After Shara, he’s bound to freak out like this whenever anyone goes out on a mission, but he was just showing it to you.

“Poe.” You cup his head in your hands, trying to watch for his reaction. He practically relaxes into you, and suddenly you feel a lot like a bitch for starting an argument. “I will be fine. I promise. No way I’m going to get kidnapped by the Order after being here a month. You know my ego is way too big for that.” He gives you a half smile and you frown, ruffling his curls before drawing your arms back to your sides. “You can’t stop me from going, you know.”

“But can I come with?” You roll your eyes, failing at hiding a smile. “Fine. Just know that I’ll tear apart the galaxy if you go missing.” You scrunch your nose, trying to keep yourself from laughing.

“You’d tear the fabric of reality trying to find me?”

“I would.” The seriousness in his voice catches you off guard. If you had an ounce less of self control, you would’ve pressed your lips to his.

Maker, you had to figure something out before you fucked this whole friendship up.

“Know that I would do the same thing.” His eyes soften, and your heart flutters.

Stars. Did you just admit that?

“But also know that Rey will stab you with her lightsaber if you annoy her as a locum for me.” His lips curl upwards in a genuine smile this time and he pulls you into one last hug, running a thumb over your cheekbone when you finally pull back. “Don’t be stupid, flyboy.”

“Stay safe, darling.”

He notes the last sentence you wrote in that entry, filing that piece of information away for later and hurriedly opening the next entry, immediately grinning because he knows exactly what it’s about.

Masterlist

all taglists are open! send me a message (also send me a message if you wanna be removed bc ik it’s been years) <3

permanent: @becausewhyknotme, @browneyedhimbo, @theladyoffangorn, @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad, @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @talk-geek-to-me, @letsmellowjello, @thescarletknight2014, @bbluespiritzuko, @brooklynsmorales, @poe-djarin, @marvelinsanity, @softly-sad, @yourbucky084, @mcolbz14, @arkofblake, @agentsimmonsfitz, @beyoncesdragon, @falconsams, @agentshortstacc, @darthkruge, @kelieah, @jyns–ersos

sw: @kittyofalltrades, @m1rkw00dpr1ncess, @propertyofdindjarin, @coldbreadbouquetworld, @melvls, @thedevilwearsbeskar

mr dameron the loml: @poe-damnnn-eron, @lapilark, @peterhollandkait, @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol, @twomoonstwosuns, @lady-sloan, @poes-stardust, @legamelo, @xremember-me-notx, @djarinscyare, @yourbucky084, @agents-assemble, @daydreamerinadazedworld, @darthadeline, @roserrys, @fandom-addict-aesthetics, @generousrunawaydonut

story taglist! @dameronsgalaxygal, @pretty-stupid-but-not-thatstupid, @cloud-leader, @rae-rae-patcha, @eternallyvenus, @lanatheawesome, @multifandomlife22, @jerusomeeno, @hasrct-ay, @slut-for-bumblebees, @kaitlynw011, @lonelydarlings, @remmysbounty, @swiftiewetjet, @ajeff855​, @smiithys​

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Karma.

Pairing: Yandere!Xiao/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count:  2.1k.

TW: Imprisonment, Mentions of Kidnapping, Codependence, Possessive Mindsets, Non-Consensual Touching, Physical Abuse, Slight Victim-Blaming.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Xiao knew that this was what he deserved.

This, all of it, everything. Whatever the world had to throw at him, all the things he’d earned over centuries of bloodshed and death and guilt that grew more crippling with each passing day. He’d come to terms with that, and if he was being honest with himself, he might admit that he was growing numb to the pain, that despite his distaste, violence didn’t seem as utterly unpalatable as it used to. He wasn’t thankful for it, he didn’t want it, but he was resigned, apathetic, too used to it to care the way he used to, when fighting left him as battered as his enemies. He'd grown accustomed to it. He’d adapted.

He just wasn’t used to this. A new sort of discomfort. A different kind of pain.

He just wasn’t used to you being the source of his karmic suffering, whether or not you realized it was quite that poetic.

He’d earned it. He knew that. He’d earned every part of his current punishment – your glare, your locked jaw, the unadulterated loathing that emanated off of you in waves, unignorable from the moment he shrugged open the heavy, wooden door to his crowded room on the inn’s top floor. He’d managed to stave off the urge to use chains, ropes, anything more solid and more restraining than an idle threat and a locked door, but you were smart enough to stay balled up in the furthest corner, your knees pulled into your chest and your eyes on the floor, narrowed with an intensity he’d only ever seen in demons, moments before their deaths. It hurt him to see, the stance too defensive not to be learned, but it was better than the alternative. He’d caught you on the balcony, once or twice, leaning over the railing or admiring the view, and…

You could’ve slipped. You could’ve tried to jump. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but you shouldn’t have been so reckless. It’d been dangerous, even you were still too naïve to see that.

Xiao grit his teeth, shaking his head as he forced himself to focus on the matter at-hand. You didn’t move as he approached, only shrinking further into yourself, becoming something small, something timid, a form of passive resistance you’ve perfected, in the weeks since you last put up a real fight. If he was feeling any less patient, he might’ve resorted to less honorable methods, throwing you over his shoulder and dragging you through his routine of self-indulgence despite your attempts to struggle against him. He’d tried it before, broken his own promises countless times, but it was almost never worth the way you’d cry afterwards, like he’d hurt you, like he’d done anything wrong. Like you could expect him to do anything less, when you were determined to be so stubborn.

So, instead, he tried talking. Talking was more peaceful. He didn’t like talking, but you did, and he was trying to be more considerate of what you liked. “I’m back.”

He waited, but there was no response. That was fine. He was fine. He couldn’t say he’d never given you a reason to ignore him. “You’re not reading,” He tried, again, fighting to keep his voice even. You tended to flinch, whenever he got too loud. “It’d be a better use of your time than sulking around, like this.”

You didn’t look at him, your voice muffled by your self-made haven. “You keep burning my books.”

Burning? That sounded like something he would do, as an act of precaution or anger or the same petty vengeance creatures so far beneath him were so prone to. It’d probably been one of the anthologies you were so fond of – folklore hiding under the guise of real history. Usually, he didn’t pay it much mind, the liberal retellings of events no living mortal could possibly be old enough to have witnessed, but he didn’t care for it when you found value in such trash. Stories about the Adepti were far too common in Liyue literature, and you’d always been the type to ask questions, to try to pry your way into subjects you could never hope to comprehend. It was better to eliminate the problem entirely. That was how he’d survived for so long, among humans -- terminating issues before they could arise.

But, you wouldn’t understand that. And even if you did, it wouldn’t do anything to heal the wound he’d already created.

He was beginning to think nothing he tried would ever be enough to mend your anger, not when you were so content to tear at the stitching yourself.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He wasn’t sure if he had, but you didn’t correct him, only squaring your shoulders, digging your nails into your legs, going even further to block him out, push him away, isolate yourself and leave him to suffer for your insubordination. Xiao rolled his eyes, scowling to himself, but whatever irritation he could summon was quickly replaced by his exhaustion, that perpetual desire to fall into your arms and have you welcome him willingly, lovingly, the way you used to before he decided he had to ruin it. He was tempted to touch you, to reach out, to cup your cheek or wrap an arm around you or draw you close by force, rather than natural attraction, but he thought better of it, crouching by your side, instead, letting his back hit the wall with a heavy thud.

When he opened his mouth, his tongue felt heavier, his throat hoarse. Like the weight of his conscious had found yet another way to make itself known. “You hate me.”

It was a fact, like the color of the sky or the scent of the air before a storm. It was true, both of you already knew that, but you were kind enough to hesitate, lifting you head just high enough to see him. For him to see you, tiny and terrified. A trembling rabbit that knew better than to hope for mercy from a hawk. “I do.”

It stung more than it had any right to. “And there’s nothing I can do make you stop hating me.”

You laughed, at that, the sound breathy and sardonic, melodic and unabashed, akin to bird songs and wind chimes and every other beautiful thing Xiao could think of, even in its most beaten down state. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to deafen himself because he knew nothing would ever be half as lovely as that laugh, but you were talking before he could act on the impulse. That was for the best, really. Acting on impulse was what got him into this, and he wasn’t eager to drive you away any further. “I don’t have any other choice,” You started, your tone light, your anger softened into something playful. The kind of tender rage only you were capable of. “If I could choose not to hate you, I would. You were my friend, and if I could find any way to justify your actions, you’d still be my friend. I don’t want to think of you as anything else.” You paused, letting out a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Xiao couldn’t bring himself to celebrate the small victory. “I don’t want to hate you, but I have to. You see that, right? After everything you’ve done to me, I have to hate you.”

He deserved this, and you deserved to say it. He deserved to have his heart broken, crushed and shattered in his chest, and you deserved to be the one to break it. “I don’t want you to hate me, either.” It felt more intimate than it should’ve, a confession rather than common knowledge. You might’ve teased him for it, months ago, smiled and said something about softening him up. Now, your frown only deepened. “But, I need to do this. Your safety comes first. If something ever happened to you, I’d—”

Even in his own mind, his logic faltered. ‘If something ever happened to you’, like he hadn’t already done more damage than any monster ever could. It might’ve been more redeemable if he was honest, if he admitted he was doing this for himself, because he wanted to, because just for an hour, a minute, a few key seconds, he was idiotic enough to think he deserved to have you, permanently, whether or not you wanted to have him.

But, he couldn’t say that. He didn’t know how. His mouth wouldn’t form the right words, so he was left to say the wrong ones, his tone taking a sharp turn towards hostile as he spoke. “The door isn’t locked. I’m not keeping you here. You can leave, if you’re really that miserable.”

You shifted, and Xiao’s throat went dry. He knew the answer, and yet, it still hurt to hear it in your voice, to know you were capable of inflicting such insufferable pain. “If I try to, will you let me?”

He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he couldn’t even tell himself he’d try. He’d hunt you down to the ends of Teyvat if he had to, spend the rest of his immortality finding you and making sure you never had the chance to do something so short-sighted again. He could make the guilt more bearable, promising himself he’d take care of you, that since he couldn’t do away with the cage entirely, he’d do his best to make your prison a comfortable one, but you’d still be unhappy, you’d still hate him. He’d hate himself, too, but that might be the one aspect of your relationship he thought he could stand. If nothing else, Xiao didn’t make himself a stranger to self-loathing.

“I love you,” He mumbled, as if that counted for anything. “So much. More than you could possibly understand.”

“I know.” You were the one to bridge the gap, this time, a hesitant hand coming to rest over his. Something in his chest tightened, and for a moment, Xiao had to wonder if it was possible for a mortal to be so cruel. “But, I don’t love you. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

You moved to pull away, fear fading into sympathetic pity, but Xiao didn’t want your pity, he didn’t want you to go back to hiding from him, trembling and screaming and treating him like some monster, a beast waiting to lash out. That’s what he was, really, but he didn’t have to admit it. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to let himself believe he’d fallen that far, and he didn’t want to let you treat him as if he had.

His grip was too tight, a whimper escaping your parted lips as he caught you by the wrist, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when it was so easy to jerk you towards him, forcing you out of your pathetic, laughable shelter and into his lap, his free arm latching onto your waist before you had a chance to pull away. The remorse was reflexive, immediate and instinctual, but for the first time, he allowed himself to ignore it, to bury it underneath the pleasant warmth of your skin against his and the bliss that came with being so close to you, with burying his face in your shoulder, with indulging every necessity he’d denied himself in the name of your comfort. Your hands were already on his chest, your entire body shaking as you made a weak attempt to push him away, but Xiao was stronger than you, and he loved you so much more than you could ever hate him. This was fair. That had to be enough to make it fair.

You shifted, the air catching in your lungs, but Xiao only bared his teeth, letting pointed fangs ghost over the side of your neck before he could regret scaring you. Maybe he wanted to scare you. Maybe it’d be better, if you were scared of him. At least then, he wouldn’t have to keep playing dutiful lover. 

“Don’t move,” He snarled, and instantly, you went still. He could feel your heart racing in your chest, hear the cracked sob you failed to swallow, but he wanted this, he needed this. You’d get used to it, with time. You might even begin to appreciate the weeks he spent coddling you, once you were exposed to the alternative. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I need this. I need you to let me have this.” He paused, giving you just enough to time to stiffen, to realize he wasn’t letting go. To realize he was never letting go, even if that meant you only grew to hate him more. “I don’t care if you love me. I need you.” 

Because he’d already gotten what he deserved. He’d already suffered, anguished, submitted himself fully to karma and reaped the consequences. The lesson had been drilled into him a thousand times, by his own hand another hundred. He already knew pain.

He’d already gotten what he deserved.

For once, he wanted to know what it would be like to get what he wanted, instead.

[yan-twst]

hi! could i please request yan azul, kalim, leona and malleus with their darling figuring out abt them,, yknow being yanderes and trys to flat out look and act unappealing and/or just basically be the opposite of what theyd want in a s/o, as an attempt to try and get them off their back?? 

warnings: general yandere themes, mentions of physical violence

azul ashengrotto

the problem with azul’s attraction is that it comes from his own insecurities rather than him attaching to some aspect of his darling

perhaps they somehow reassured him when he was feeling low, perhaps they accidentally said something that soothed his insecurities- maybe it was something as simple as them always being nice to him without him ever having done anything for them; once he first gets an inkling of interest, it snowballs into an obsession and a desire to have them reassure him and keep him company

his darling starts to notice something is off when azul suddenly seems to be almost always pestering them to form a contract with him, when they can feel the tweel’s eyes on them throughout the day. it- it feels wrong to say he’s stalking them, but fuck, it sure feels like it

every day it seems to increase a little- the stalking, the pressuring, the way he’s trying to force himself closer to them, and it feels like a ticking time bomb. it’s as if every day they put off a contract or avoid him, the pressure’s building up, but they don’t know to what. but they can tell that if this goes on for longer, something is going to happen

azul notices when they stop taking as much care of themselves. they’re disheveled, hair messy and uniform wrinkled; not something bad enough that they’d get in trouble, but just so enough that it seems they’re actively trying to appear “unappealing”. too bad for them, though; in his love-addled mind, he dreams of them holding him, caressing him and telling him he’s loved, he’s good- the fact they’re not put together doesn’t affect him that much

of course, if they realize that what azul is fixated on is how they treated him and try to do the opposite of that- being rude to him, then that’s just making things go worse. azul was obsessed with them before, yes, but once they start acting rudely to him it just makes him snap

no more waiting. he was trying to get them tied up in a contract, lure them in until they were too far in and couldn’t leave him; but once they burst his little bubble by being rude to him, once they snap the fantasy version of them in his head (the fantasy version of them that’s always at his beck and call, always reassuring them and telling him how great he is, that adores all he does with no questions)- he’s suddenly craving their kindness again, and he doesn’t care how he has to get it

that really might be a fast route to getting dragged by floyd into a dorm room- azul’s room- and be confronted with a desperate azul

suddenly bombarded with questions- why did they do this? is he not enough? did they find someone else? it’s that bastard who sits next to them, isn’t it? what does he have that azul doesn’t? he can take it from him- he can be better than that guy, he promises! why isn’t he enough? why don’t they love him? why why why why-

it’s dizzying, and they realize just a bit too late the door is locked- and it’s going to stay that way. azul might regain his composure, but going back to his usual self from his little crybaby side doesn’t mean he’s suddenly letting them go; no matter in what state he’s in, making them his is all he has on his mind

kalim al-asim

the problem with kalim is that it’s so hard to tell his love is something far worse, far more dangerous, bordering into obsession until it’s too late

he’s just so naturally loving and affectionate; it’s not weird for him to always invite the same person over, not weird for him to be hugging them, it just doesn’t raise any alarms for him to shower them in expensive gifts that they didn’t ask for, it’s just not unusual for him to compliment them so sweetly every time he sees them

after all, he’s just known for being adorable and sweet and nice. if anything, onlookers might think he has a puppy crush and find the whole thing adorable

hell, outside of the discomfort of receiving so many expensive gifts, the target of his obsession probably also thinks it’s just some passing fancy, just another demonstration of his big heart and his boundless kindness

but it’s just a little too much. the hugs last a second too long, it’s just too many gifts- where the hell do they safely put all this gold? it’s too much time spent in scarabia’s common room being hugged and pet and coddled by kalim

perhaps the kindest way to make him back off is to just not appeal to him, right? to be just a little bit cold, to look a bit worse for wear than the average student- surely that’ll be enough to dissuade him, to make him lose interest and maybe focus his attention on something else

but it doesn’t really work. trying to even give a cold shoulder to his affections makes kalim so visibly sad it hurts them (even though they’re the ones trying to make distance between him and them), their disheveled appearance makes him fuss and worry and pay even more attention to them

if the plan was to get kalim off their back, then it backfires completely. he’s suddenly just that much more attached to them; he doesn’t seem to take their cold treatment as a dissuasion, and he gifts care products and clothes and jewelry saying that perhaps they need a little pick-me-up

it just culminates in him “worrying too much” and “taking the decision to care for them, since they’re clearly unwell!”- which translates to being put in a private room in the scarabia dorm for kalim to pamper

he seems to chalk up their distress and their absolute anger at his actions as them “being unwell”. is it the school stress, or something else...? well, it’s ok! he’s taking care of them now; they’re not gonna have to work a day in their life or stress over anything at all, because he’s going to stay with them forever. that’s what love is, after all!

leona kingscholar

what a ridiculous little herbivore

do they truly think he can’t tell what they’re doing? leona knows he isn’t subtle about his little crush, as ruggie calls it- he isn’t stupid enough to deny the obsession that swirls in his heart and raises all his animalistic instincts when he’s in the presence of his darling. he knows they’re worried about how he’s monopolizing their time, that they’re keenly aware he’s trying to keep them for himself

but do they really think that they can somehow drive him away by switching up the way they act? that if they try to put on a brave stance, try to act as if though they aren’t a little weak herbivore for the big mean lion to hunt down for dinner, that he’s just going to shrug and move on?

if his obsession was something so minor, he wouldn’t be putting in the effort to secure his prey. really, how dumb do they have to be to think it’d be that easy? they know him- they know he wouldn’t be putting energy into this whole thing if he didn’t truly want to

leona isn’t stupid. he can see right through them; he’s had his eye on them for a while now, and all of a sudden they’re trying to change up the way they are? he can easily figure out what they’re trying to do

in fact, he might bring it up to their face- looking down at them with a smirk arms crossed

just because the prey tries to act brave doesn’t make it any less of a prey animal. he can sniff them out without trying.

really, it’s about then leona just says ‘fuck it’ and pounces. it’s as easy as saying that if they don’t nicely follow him back to savanaclaw he’ll gladly turn them to sand, with his hand pressed against their back- and that’s all it takes for the brave act to crumble and for the lion to force the rabbit into his den

even if once held captive they keep trying to act unappealing, leona sees it as amusing and perhaps as a bother he can quickly get rid of with a bit of force or punishment. cats like to play with their food, after all: he might let them try to keep up the act for a while, just for his amusement, but once he says they’re done and to drop it, they better drop it, because he isn’t above letting them learn through pain that they aren’t in charge of themselves here

malleus draconia

catching on that malleus draconia might be a bit too interested in them is a bit of an unnerving discovery- because what does one do when the most powerful student in nrc and the heir to the throne of the valley of thorns is a bit too into one? 

it doesn’t help that malleus is just not very socially adept, and it feels... cruel to tell him off. maybe it’s just the way he makes friends- perhaps showing up to their dorm unannounced is just him being friendly, perhaps him just staring at them is how he thinks friendship goes, maybe the extended physical contact is just him being touch starved

it’s just tricky, because what can they do? malleus is powerful and he’s very, very much attached to them. perhaps it’s their fault for letting it get to this level, but they just thought the guy needed a friend; they were trying to be nice, to offer him companionship, and now they’ve got a fae watching them sleep, talking about how they’d be a perfect co-ruler for the valley of thorns, glaring at their friends when they spend time together; it’s a problem

and yet what to do? trying to make malleus “not attracted to them” is easier said than done. after all, what seems to have gotten him so attached is the fact they treat him nicely, that they weren’t scared of him- and they’ve seen malleus spit fire and use magic so powerful they can only dream of it. they don’t want to just go ahead and upset him by suddenly being mean.

and trying to put him off with their appearance just doesn’t seem to work either. if anything, it just makes him that more overbearing; as if he’s worried about their behaviour

there’s no way to win, really. they can try to keep going this way, as his obsession grows more and more each day and he starts to take more and more from them, eventually declaring his “love”, eventually placing them in a tower, trapped with him- no amount of messy hair and poorly ironed clothes can make the lovesick obsession leave malleus; and the alternative is to potentially anger him, to make the move from their dorm to a cold, stone room somewhere in the dorm for malleus to unleash his anger and the worse parts of his obsession onto them

[btsandvmin]

How much do we really know?

I really don't understand how any BTS shippers can be confident enough in their ships to turn into “supporters/believers” that believe their ship is real 100%. For any ship. Like even deep diving into some theories or getting literally 100+ reasons from various believers own mouths for why some ships have to be real, nothing has been big enough to count as proof in my opinion. (Of course this includes Vmin.)

Like... They all have questionable moments. Some more than others, sure. But proof of more than very strong and unusually intimate friendships? No.

You could argue some things seem “gay” or has possible LGBTQ+ connections. Like GCF having a LGBT+ song, or 4 o'clock including a reference to a gay movie, or Vmin's literal gay drama whatever that was. But most of it is just fans zooming in on various things and adding their own meaning to it. Like it has to mean something becaues it is connected to your ship. (But only for your ship.) Sometimes, a lot of times, it’s not even directly connected to the ship... It’s just assumed to be connected to them. It’s a guess or a theory, not a fact.

I get questions from Vminies not knowing things about Vmin all the time, and I myself know I’ll never be able to remember or even see everything that is out there with Vmin. And that’s just from the content we are able to consume to begin with. Beyond that is a lot of guessing and assumption based on the fraction of moments we get. But if some Vminies might not even know where the soulmate label comes from, or that 4 o’clock was written with Jimin in mind or that Vmin seem to casually sleep together in private (if we take Tae’s words for it in the Billboard vlive) it’s clear that something I might see as obvious and common knowledge isn’t. Even further it’s clear that other shippers will know even less about Vmin. 

And how can you dismiss something you don’t even know about?

We all focus on, remember or look for/get exposed to our biases or favorite ships the most. Even if we consume the original content we will likely zoom in and see things for our own ship simply because we look for it. And there is nothing wrong with that, it’s natural. But we need to realize it means we will miss things when it comes to other ships, and need to be aware that we know more and end up in echo chambers of both facts and interpretations for our own ships.

It’s so blatantly obvious to me that many non-vminies have no clue about even some of the biggest moments between Vmin. And again, it’s nothing really odd or bad about that... Until you start to act superior even when you lack a lot of knowledge. So much misinformation is spread this way too...

That’s why even though I personally think I know more about other ships than perhaps the regular person, I still won’t preach or explain too much about other ships. Because just as I know others don’t seem to know or notice a lot about Vmin, I know I work the same in regards to other ships. I can’t possibly even remember everything when it comes to Vmin, so how can I with all other ships too?

If I get questions about tae/kook or ji/kook or any dynamic in BTS I might be able to answer it... But I might also lack the full context or might not even have noticed some things to begin with. Coming to me with questions about other ships will give you a very different view than if you ask a shipper focused on that ship directly. I try to be unbiased, but I can’t. I try to be informed but I can’t remember or notice everything. So even if I feel I know a lot, I might never know enough to get the full context of any situation regarding BTS. 

Of course trying to remember to watch unbiased content is very important and helps to keep a better balance. Or as in my case where I actively looked up other ship theories and felt “I know enough to see there are weird things and I can’t dismiss everything since we don’t know the truth of what it might mean”. Just as I feel a lot of things about Vmin shouldn’t be dismissed. Many other shippers also came to me and talked long and detailed about why their ship is real and my isn’t. Many times I lacked knowledge about specific situations about other ships, but so did they about Vmin. I don’t think you can dismiss something if you don’t even know about it to begin with, and there is a big gap of knowledge between the shipping communities.

I mean, the way hyung x maknae line ships have so many great moments and you barely see them outside of the actual content. At this point all ships in BTS are big and get attention, but they don’t seem to register the same way in people’s minds, with the focus  always being on the three youngest together.

This is the thing about worrying about “rival ships” too... They only matter if there is a moment between the ones you already see as “competition”. Does anyone worry or cry about Vmin or Ji/kook when Ji/hope or Hope/kook get very intimate and sweet moments? No, because they don’t seem to register at all. 

I wasn’t even able to find a gif of this ji/hope moment from Run recently... (And I can’t add twitter videos from desktop)

Yoon/min holding hands and joking about breaking up.

Meanwhile if Tae/kook have fun together or if Ji/kook does something cute all hell breaks lose. We have been tainted by the narratives from shippers. The more we see and hear about other ships the bigger “impact” they will have on us.

If moments like this between other members doesn’t make me feel insecure about Vmin, then why would any similar moment from Ji/kook or Tae/kook? People need to stop hyper focusing on both skinship and “rival ship” moments in general and stop adding importance to them, especially when they don’t even do it equally with all ships.

It’s not that one is good:

One is neutral:

And one is bad:

They all happen and exist and we need to realize that’s how it always has been and likely always will be. Any interpretations of these moments shouldn’t change how you view them when nothing is even confirmed. They all happen so we should all accept that and be happy the members have close and intimate relationships with each other.

I really don’t think people understand my stance on all of this. I literally don’t mind if another ship turns out to be real (even if any ship being real is probably not that likely), because I trust in Vmin’s relationship after having watched it for 5 years. But since nothing is confirmed I still remain of the opinion that Vmin’s relationship and behavior is weirder than other ships IN MY VIEW, based on MY INTERPRETATIONS. But I am totally ok with being proven wrong, because it doesn’t matter what kind of relationship Vmin have as long as I can trust that the love they express for each other is real. Thus I also don’t have to downplay moments between other ships. They are there and that’s nice.

We lack a lot of information for many reasons even though we do get to see a lot. But even knowing all the things we know, I still don’t think it’s enough for any ship moments to count as “proof”. For example with Vmin, they were denied to sing a song because it was essentially “ too gay” and Taehyung complained about it, but that doesn't mean they have to be a couple and is forced apart by Big Hit.

We put weight into things because we have our biases and guesses and we find things because we look for them. Here are just some things that fans of various communities says have to mean something but to me really doesn't have to mean anything even if proven:

Physical intimacy Emotional intimacy Jealousy Screen time Fanservice “Sexual tension” Heart eyes or any looks in general Joking about being a couple Showering together Sleeping together Being alone together Living together Writing songs about each other Secret signs Hidden messages to fans Hiding in rooms

And so on...

But even If you do want to count these things to mean something, at least acknowledge how many of those things other ships have too. Vmin literally have several of these confirmed as well. Many of these moments either have happened or gets speculated to happen between many ships. You might find your ship isn’t as uniqe as you feel it is if you actually start diving deeper. If you did and it makes you doubt your own ships superiority, that’s good. Being sure won’t lead to any good for anyone.

Also if you wanna go there.... If other shipper say these have to mean something they are either ignoring Vmin or more likely doesn’t know or say it doesn’t mean the same if they do it.

Fine if hand holding and cuddling doesn’t make you wonder about Vmin, that’s totally legit. In fact you don’t have to wonder about Vmin unless you want to. But using excuses for why something doesn’t mean something you don’t want it to mean or downplaying moments or automatically calling them platonic and “not the same” doesn’t mean you can’t be wrong about those assumptions. Especially when you might not know the full context of it. Again, it should go both ways and include moments from all relationships.

I am legit curious how ji/kookers and tae/kookers are able to be so confident about their ship being real with Tae doing the things he does towards Jimin.... Like... They mean to tell me Tae and Jimin being soulmates, Tae wanting to sing a romantic Christmas song with Jimin, Tae writing 4 o'clock, Tae having Sweet night and telling us it's a personal song while he keeps calling Jimin his only best friend doesn't even have a possibility to mean something non platonic? 😗

Soulmates + Friends lyrics + "how could I know one day I would wake up feeling more" + "are you my best friend?" + "sweet night is a personal song" + "Of course Jimin is my only friend" + 4 o'clock/dumpling fight + the not allowed Christmas song + "Jimin-ah I like you the most" + "I told him to come sleep next to me as I was too lazy to go to him" + “we told our candid stories as honestly as possible” + “Oppa, why are you still awake? I’m dreaming of Jiminie” = Vmin is probably the best known guess to what relationship Tae might be talking about in Sweet Night.

Is it confirmed though? Can I call it proof? NO! Because while it fits in theory, we don’t know and we don’t have all the information to know. But I can make a damn good case for it and that’s the whole point. I can do that because I look for material, see things and add them together with a narrative. Just as other shippers do with their ships. In the end it’s all just narratives though, not proof.

Getting all these asks recently just confirms that the people who worry, or who says other ships are real, haven’t read even a fraction of my posts or they just don’t understand them. Or let alone noticed major moments between all BTS members that should show that their belief is not as “obvious” as they might think.

I am tired of insecurities when it shouldn’t even matter. If any ship in BTS is real, let’s support them and be happy. It doesn’t change the dynamics and relationships between the other members if some of them happen to be a couple. What we see is still there. The “worst” that can happen is that our ideas and theories prove to be wrong. 

But let’s at least try to be aware of how little we see and know, and especially about ships that aren’t our own. I am writing about Vmin because there is a lot to see, but me focusing on Vmin also gives me a knowledge about them I can’t compare with other ships. Which is why I won’t sit and write essays about other ships, and which is why Vminies coming to me for information about other ships is going to lack the depth I can provide for Vmin. All shippers are biased and all shippers lack information.

If you want to ship do it, if you want to speculate go right ahead. But be aware that there is a big difference between facts and knowledge and narratives and speculation.

I hope you found this an interesting read. And if you are considering sending me asks worried about Vmin because of interactions between other members or you want to send “statments” or explenations about other ships being real, just know you are barking up the wrong tree.

[potteresque-ire]

hello, ily metas! thank you for taking the time for them. i hope you dont mind an ask with two follow up questions to your metas i'm curious about: 1) has mxtx rly been sentenced? i have seen others also share this news but other fans have quickly dismissed and gotten pissed at these reports for being fake news that are bad for mxtx, and as fearmongering. 2) for those who want to support yizhan but not the ccp, do you have advice how to navigate fan support and interaction with their media?

Hello! I apologise for the late reply!  You’ve brought up some interesting points, so please forgive me for responding with an essay.

First, about MXTX — This is a follow-up to this post.

Unfortunately, this is all we got—all everyone has got about MXTX’s current situation: on 2020/11/10, she was sentenced in Hangzhou Shang Cheng District’s People’s Court (杭州市上城區人民法院). No details were given on her verdict, due to “人民法院認為不宜在互聯網公布的其它情形”  (“The People’s Court decided it inappropriate to announce further details on the internet”). Here’s a link with the screenshot that showed all the information released about the case that day.

There are enough copies of similar screenshots to this one online, with the differences dependent on where the publisher pulled the information from the same website: 中國裁判文書網, an online archive of verdicts run by China Supreme People’s Court. There’re few reasons, therefore, to believe the information on the screenshot was fake. The link I used was Sina’s Financial News, which I believe is trustworthy enough for China’s standard.

It is also important to note, of course, that two scenarios may still render this screenshot irrelevant. 1) The verdict, which was not mentioned in the screenshot, was “not guilty” and 2) the name listed in the case, 袁依楣, was not MXTX at all.

Few have seemed to suspect 2) to be a possibility. Her real name might have been prior knowledge among some fans, or the combination of her surname and city of residence. 1) has been the where the concern / debate is.

I included China’s rate of conviction in the original post for this reason: acquittal is exceedingly rare (<0.1%) for the arrested in China. This short article discussed some reasons.

So, is it possible that MXTX is now a free woman? Yes. Is it likely? Not at all.

Still, since the probability that MXTX is imprisoned isn’t 100%, is spreading this news smearing her name? Fear-mongering?

I can only answer for myself, Anon, but my answer is no for both questions, which is why I’ve felt comfortable posting about her case. MXTX’s alleged “crimes” are things we already knew she did, or common practices among Chinese IP writers. We know she penned MDZS and other BL works; we know MDZS, in particular, has an 18+ element. She was said to have sold merch based on her works, but that wasn’t unusual at all for writers in Jinjiang, where she published her writing. Even those who don’t like her have seemed to agree that it was her writing that got her into trouble, not some other crimes she could’ve committed.

IMO, a guilty verdict doesn’t tell us as much about her as it does about the judicial system, the business practices of her country. It’s worth re-mentioning that media giants such as Tencent are closely tied to the government; Tencent’s WeChat, for example, is part of China’s Great Firewall and is used for surveillance, for censorship and removal of political dissidents. What MXTX’s case hints at is this: the government has (very likely) convicted her, while its close allies are continuing to use her works—works that got her into legal trouble in the first place—to make money. Some fans of MXTX have questioned if the courts have censored the details of the case to save the embarrassment of the rich and powerful, calling what has happened to MXTX 人血饅頭 (“human blood steamed buns”), an idiom used to describe the act of profiting out of someone elses’ life.

As for fear-mongering, here are my thoughts ~ it would’ve been fear-mongering if the public has access to the facts, and not years after they happen. Specifically, it would’ve been fear-mongering to leak the rumours of MXTX’s sentencing, when the judicial system is transparent and the case details will soon be published for all to see. Why? Because “fear” comes from the unknown, and “-monger” is the unnecessary promotion, stirring-up of this fear.

To promote, stir up anything, one needs a reference level. The reference level in this scenario is this: what is the level of fear if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? Of course, this knowledge doesn’t make MXTX’s experience any easier or more just; it doesn’t cause her less fear. However, she isn’t the target audience of this likely-to-be-true rumour. The target audience is the public and in particular, those who consume and/or generate BL material online.

What is the level of fear among this population if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? It’s the (relative) comfort in knowing the government’s stance on what they do: how the administration feels about BL, 18+ BL, and their distribution methods. The comfort comes from having the right information to decide how to act accordingly. For example, if I’m a BL writer based in China and I know the court has found MXTX guilty of bypassing publishing houses but not of writing M/M romance, then I’ll know to not produce paper versions of my writing, but I can keep writing.

This reference level of fear is unavailable here, however, since the government has decided to withhold all details about the case. Without this reference level, fear-mongering becomes a ... difficult to define concept.

Are these likely-to-be-true rumours agents of fear, or are they hints on how to survive in a country that lacks transparency?

Continuing with the example of I being a Chinese BL writer, since I cannot expect to hear more facts about MXTX, this rumour is all I’ve got in choosing what to do with my hobby, in deciding whether it is safe to continue. As I’m aware that a rumour isn’t a fact, I first research on the rumour’s likelihood of truth (similar to what I’ve done for MXTX’s case), and cross my fingers that I don’t get it wrong.

By doing so, I’m turning these rumours into my survival guide.

Is it risky? Yes. Is it exhausting? Absolutely. But this is the way of life for people who live under secretive, authoritarian governments—the authoritarian element making it impossible to demand more facts. It may take people outside such regimes some time to get used to—to the lifestyle, and to the idea that, in a place where news is often synonymous with propaganda, rumours are breadcrumbs of truth that should be sieved through with equal care as one would sieve through the news. Heeding, considering the probable truth of what the authority has deemed to be fear-mongering rumours can be a matter of literal life and death. 

Take...COVID. (I apologize for bringing up this unpleasant topic!)

I shall link to an article about the early spread of COVID in Wuhan here and ask: were Dr. Li Wenliang and the seven other doctors fear-mongering? Wuhanese chose to believe in the government, but at what cost to them? What would the world be like today if they took the early COVID rumours as true and masked up like Hong Kongers—Hong Kongers who weren’t any smarter or better, but had simply learned their painful lessons from the 2003 SARS epidemic? 

(Why hadn’t the Wuhanese learned? Because the government has long changed the narrative of SARS, taught their people that the illness originated in Hong Kong.) 

(How can one learn from past mistakes if one pretends those mistakes never existed?)

You must be wondering, Anon, why I’m talking about COVID when your next question is about YiZhan. The death of Dr Li Wenliang on February 7th, 2020, sparked a demand for freedom of speech rarely seen in internet-age China. Its fury, its ferocity forced the government to change its stance on Dr Li, again an unusual move. Since January 2020, Weibo had been censoring COVID news and opinion pieces that shedded a negative light to the central government; after the death of Dr Li, the censorship apparatus stepped up, making way for the propaganda machine to kick in later and change the narrative of the pandemic.

Here are some questions without definite answers, but may be food for thought for YiZhan fans:

1) While the Chinese government’s censorship apparatus (including Weibo) might have silenced the voices of dissent, of mourning on the surface, was it more likely to pacify, or fuel the anger of netizens, many of whom had lost loved ones, many of whom were still under quarantine?

2) Less than three weeks after the death of Dr Li, a group of fans demanded even *more* censorship from the government—the closing of an internet website that had been seen as a relatively free space to express oneself. How would these netizens react, even though they knew little about these fans or their idol?  

(It was, in the context of the massive silencing of COVID discussions in China, that I learned about the ban of AO3. There had been rumours that the government would censor more websites on 2020/03/01. When I read about AO3′s ban on 2/27, my thoughts were 1) Hmm. This came two days early. 2) AO3? Really?)

(I wouldn’t watch The Untamed or know who Gg was until several months later.)

Now, Anon, this is a good time to get to your CCP (Chinese Communist Party) question.

The very short answer is no. There’s no way to support YiZhan without, to a certain level, supporting the CCP. As mentioned above, the media companies are all part of China’s surveillance system. Weibo is where freedom of speech is curbed. Our two boys have been part of the propaganda machine; the BBC article linked above had a tiny picture of Gg on it, as he was a performer in the Hero in Harm’s Way (最美逆行者), a “real-life based” drama on COVID. DD just did a show glorying the Chinese police force (and here’s a video of the same force welding doors to lock in COVID-stricken residents).

Nonetheless, here’s my first advice: please do not beat yourself up for supporting YiZhan!

Gg and Dd are people who live within the system, inside the Great Firewall. They understand the world the way their government has taught them to—not only in school, but also in the news and media. Like most youths in every country, they’re patriotic—and to expect them to be otherwise, especially because of information they don’t have, is both unrealistic and unfair. Even if they do know about certain things impermissible within the Firewall, in China (as in many Communists countries), openly expressing / performing one’s proper political leanings (ie. loyalty towards CCP) is among the most important pre-requisites for any job. This has been especially true for c-ent in recent years .

They, like most of their countrymen, are doing what they have to do.

In this case, it comes to us, our decisions on how to interact with their works. How should we deal with them, their propaganda elements?

The answer, of course, varies from person to person. Personally, I’ve chosen the approaches of “immunisation” and “restriction”. By “immunisation”, I mean learning about as much historical and sociopolitical facts from non-CCP sponsored sources; this is understandably difficult for someone who doesn’t already have some familiarity with the culture and politics of the region, and/or cannot read the language. 

Restriction means limiting my consumption of media produced by China. I avoid shows (dramas, documentaries, variety etc) featuring topics that are likely to contain heavy propaganda, such as the military, the police, Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan, and of course, anything pertaining to the CCP, from its rise to its governance of the country.

In general, I’m wary of all information presented about the post-monarchy years (post 1911), even though CCP wouldn’t begin its reign until after WWII (1949). Why so early? 1) Because CCP was formed in 1921 and so its glorification requires a change of narrative since then; 2) because the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, KMT), which governed China between 1912 and 1949 (the so-called Republican Era 民國), would end up exiling to and setting up a new government in Taiwan.

How much propaganda should one expect in shows depicting the country post-1911? The current TV and webdrama directives (previously discussed in this post) offer some hints. Here are my translations of the relevant items:

D7) Dramas about the Republican era: Glorification of the Republican Era, the Beiyang Government, and Warlord Era requires strict control.

D10) Crime drama: crime drama is the focus of content auditing. The Ministry of Public Security (Pie note: in charge of law enforcement, ie, police) will be involved in the audit. The process of crime solving cannot be exposed; criminal psychology and motivations can however be depicted in detail. Undercover police cannot use drugs or kill, or damage the image of the police force. Criminals must be punished by law.

D12) Dramas featuring realistic topics: realistic topics must adhere to the correct world view, philosophy of life and moral values. They cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners. Regular folks should display larger-than-life sentiments and aspirations; they can pursue wealth, but must use proper means to do so; they cannot damage the public image of specific employment types, groups and social organisations. Do not preach negative or decadent world view, philosophy of life and moral values. Do not exaggerate, amplify social issues; do not over showcase, display the darker sides of society; do not preach affluence, avoid things that have no basis in real life.

D16) Dramas featuring the Revolution (Pie note: CCP’s coming to power): 2019 is the publicity period of the 70th Anniversary of the People’s Republic of China. Although the “Three Importances” (important revolution, important people, important events) are still encouraged, the  National Radio and Television Administration requires all departments, at all levels, to strengthen the control of content and the overall management of the industry, and focus on the auditing of content pertaining to the Sino-Japanese war and espionage dramas.

These directives (as those translated in the other post) are as vague as they are restrictive, and to err on the side of caution, production companies tend to “overachieve” to avoid going against headwinds at the censorship board. This means their products have a tendency to malign the Republican Era (D7). It means they will likely twist history in trying to depict the CCP as faultless heroes (D16). It means they'll probably present a utopian-like society and call it reality-based (D12), a society in which the good guys share the same values as the CCP and always win (D10).

Yes, my “restriction” means I skipped Hero in Harm’s Way. It means I’ve never listened to Gg’s version of 我和我的祖國 despite my absolute adoration of his voice. It means I just missed Dd’s performance in the law enforcement celebration event. It means I don’t plan on watching Being A Hero and Ace Troops.

So here’s where I’ve drawn the line, Anon, but it doesn’t mean that’s what anyone should do. Only you alone can decide where your own comfort zone is. I write these metas in the hopes that it can offer a … gateway for those who’d like to understand, with a more telescopic lens, Gg and Dd’s country—a country that holds a particularly strong hold over its citizens’ fate including, yes, their romantic fate. It’s not my wish to impose my opinions on anyone.

If I have other hopes… It’s this. Please, as long as it’s safe for you to talk, do not self-censor—especially about facts, especially on sites like Tumblr or Twitter that have long been banned by the Chinese government. I don’t mean one should go about and confront those who insist on a different version of reality. To undo opinions rooted in years of education, IMO, the process has to be voluntary, and the information is already at the fingertips of those who’re surfing these sites and wish to learn more. More importantly, open discussions of these topics may be risky for those who still have close ties to China, and keeping them safe should always be the top priority. 

What I mean is simply this ~ please do not feel obliged to agree with every perspective presented in YiZhan’s work just because you support the leads. Please do not feel you must remain silent about the CCP—its good, bad and ugly—just because your favourite stars happen to come from the country it’s ruling. And please remember: “Chinese”, as a term, has always included people who live outside CCP’s control, many of whom still fully embrace the culture, traditions and values of Historical China, a 5000-years long string of dynasties with shifting borders, ethnic makeup and customs. The Untamed is a mainland Chinese production, yes, but its genre, its manner of presenting certain traditions, wouldn’t have been developed, or flourished, without the diaspora. The CCP has only been the ruling party of one country, the People’s Republic of China, for 71 years, and as a party with foreign (soviet) roots and a record of destroying the pillar of the country’s tradition, Confucianism, it doesn’t own a monopolistic say on how every Chinese should think and act—no matter how much it insists it does—or how everyone should think and speak about China and its people.

It isn’t qualified.

[five-rivers]

Pep Talks 12

I think this might be the longest chapter of Pep Talks so far...

(AO3)

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When Clockwork first took Danny on as an apprentice, he’d laid out some ground rules for when he unexpectedly found himself in an unknown timeline. As Apprentice of Time, Danny was more likely to attract anomalies like natural portals and the like, and when that was combined with his innate bad luck regarding portals, well… winding up in weird places wasn’t quite a weekly occurrence, but saying it was wouldn’t have been a huge exaggeration.

That’s all to say, Danny appreciated the rules. He didn’t want to wind up never having been born again, or, worse, making it so that one of his friends had never been born. Or causing an apocalypse. Or wrecking the future. Or—

There were just a lot of problems that he could, and had, caused.

If Clockwork were able to pick Danny up right away every time, most of the rules probably would have been unnecessary. But he wasn’t. Mostly because of physics-shaped problems involving paradoxes and how too many time portals in the same general area could screw things up, but also because of Observant- and politics-shaped problems. And, Clockwork had admitted to Danny, sometime Clockwork left him somewhere because he was supposed to be there.

The first rule was to lay low. Avoid people when possible, except to acquire basic necessities. Avoid major events, crowds, protests, and cameras. Avoid important-looking buildings.

Do not offer help unless asked first, or unless the person is a ghost. There was, evidently, a loophole that made it okay for Danny to interact with ghosts even in places where it wasn’t okay for him to do the same to humans. Clockwork had said ghosts fell under Danny’s ‘jurisdiction,’ a term that seemed just a bit too weighty with meaning for Danny. As for being allowed to help when asked… Well, Clockwork knew that Danny was incapable of not helping. Although he did ask that Danny be subtle and indirect about it.

He was also not supposed to fight anyone unless he himself was directly attacked, for similar reasons.

The fourth rule was to stay within the accepted rules of the world he found himself in, where possible. In other words, if people generally didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, don’t challenge that belief by using his powers in public, but if superpowers were common, it was okay to use them.

The fifth was that, if he found himself in the past, leave civilized areas. With the threat of unpersoning himself hanging over his head, Danny took that one very seriously.

The sixth, the one that made Danny feel like a little kid despite his real age, was, if the previous rule didn’t apply, try to stay in the same general area he first found himself in.

There were others, of course, and special ones for special circumstances. For example, if he was captured by law enforcement, or injured, or actively in danger, or if he didn’t know what time period he was in. Different sets of rules prevailed if he was actually on a mission.

Clockwork had also told him that the rules no loner applied if it took him more than two weeks to find Danny. That, if he’d been waiting for that long, something had gone wrong, or Clockwork was unable to find him or pull him out.

It had been just under half that time, and Danny was starting to get worried. More worried.

He pulled his legs up, closer to himself. He didn’t need to conserve warmth, being what he was, but the action was comforting and the abandoned warehouse he was in was weird and creepy.

This whole timeline was weird and creepy. Also, semi-apocalyptic. They were going through some serious societal upheaval. Danny wasn’t entirely sure why, having only been here for six days, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the nascent ghosts partially overshadowing people and giving them power.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Danny wasn’t sure. The next nearest thing to this he’d ever encountered was a warlock, and that had been just one person. Ghosts were under his jurisdiction, but, like the warlock, the people with powers here didn’t quite feel like ghosts, and he wasn’t sure how trustworthy news sources saying that metahumans were all soulless degenerates were…

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to find out. Hopefully, Clockwork would pick him up before another week went by.

He didn’t think the government here could actually catch him, but some of the things they apparently did to metahumans made his core ache. It was a very X-Men-like situation. Except, well, set in Japan.

Why Japan?

But! Eight more days. Tops. Clockwork would get him.

Before he’d finished the thought, something blew the door of the warehouse in and a ropelike appendage hurtled towards Danny’s corner.

He reacted. Rules were, if someone attacked him, he could respond in kind, and if superpowers were common knowledge, he could use his.

There were at least a dozen of them, all of them displaying an eclectic array of superpowers, some reminiscent of Danny’s ghostly enemies, others entirely novel to him. A fair few also had guns. One man even used multiple powers. Needless to say, the battle was incredibly one sided.

In Danny’s favor.

Hey, he’d been doing this for years, and he was very comfortable with his abilities. Most of these guys weren’t. Most. The multiple-power guy had been challenging.

Danny examined his captives. He should probably just knock them out, then go find a new hideout somewhere else, but he wanted to know why he was attacked, first.

“So,” he said, deciding that the curly-haired man with multiple powers was probably the leader, given the way the battle had been structured, “why did you and your goons attack me?”

“I heard you were like me,” growled the man, attempting to escape Danny’s telekinetic hold. “I’m looking for a power that can help my brother.”

Danny twitched slightly at the word help. “What do you mean, like you?”

“You can take powers, too,” said the man, staring up at Danny with desperate, hungry, red eyes.

Danny blinked, frowned. “You thought I could help you, or your brother, so you attacked me?” His frown became deeper. “Or did you attack me to, what, steal my powers?”

The man squirmed.

It was. That was such a ridiculous villain cliché, although the brother thing was a twist. People could get desperate about their families and do terrible things.

Including Danny. As had been proven many, many times.

His heart and stance both softened. This counted as a request for help, right? And the guy was sort of ghostly. On the other hand… Transplanting whatever it was giving these people powers willy-nilly couldn’t be healthy, especially if it was related to ghosts.

(Multiple ghosts in one body… It reminded him of his dark future self, which was never good.)

“Okay,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright. What exactly does your brother need help with?”

The man clearly hadn’t expected Danny to ask this question. “He’s sick,” he said. His eyes gleamed at the edge of tears. “His body is tearing itself apart, DNA molecule by DNA molecule. If I could just find the right ability, I could save him,” the man’s voice broke, “I knowit.”

Molecule by molecule, huh?

Actually… that was something Danny could help with. Crud. People had powers here, right? He was being asked for help, wasn’t he? He was staying within the rules. Especially seeing as these guys were like warlocks. He was only doing warlock stuff.

“If I help you with this—if,” he stressed when the man perked up. “If I help you with this, I need two things from you. Well, three, really. Actually, no, four.”

“Name them,” declared the man.

“Yeah, I was about to,” said Danny. “Anyway, first, you need to ask your brother if he wants this. If he doesn’t, you have to come back here and return it. Asap. As in, tomorrow.” He was pretty sure he could get Clockwork to give him a day, even if he came to pick Danny up right now.

“Those are your first two conditions, then?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Third one is, you have to stop taking powers from people who don’t give you permission. The end of that road isn’t pretty.” At least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. All those little maybe-ghosts, slammed together… Even if it didn’t have any immediate effect on this guy’s personality, the resulting ghost could wind up possessing him. If the ghost vaguely wanted to go with him, that might change things. Maybe. At least, it’d slow things down.

If this worked the way he thought it did.

The man scowled. “And you know this, how?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Look, you’rethe one who said I was like you, not me. Too much of these powers can mess you up.”

“If the number is the problem, it shouldn’t matter how I take them.”

“Do you ever get bad dreams?”

The man stilled completely. “What do you know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “Enough,” he said. “Do you want to be overwhelmed by your powers? Do you want to explode? It could happen.” Actually, Danny had no idea if it could happen or not. But it sounded good. “More importantly, do you want to help your brother or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“Great!” said Danny, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish this up somewhere privately, okay?” He grabbed the man’s shoulder and phased them through the floor into the basement, which he lit with a ball of ectoplasm. “Okay,” he said. “Fourth thing.”

The man was staring at the ectoplasm with undisguised curiosity. “What is it? Money? A new identity? Passage out of the country?”

“Uh, no,” said Danny. What would he do with any of that, after all? “I need to know the full story behind you and your brother.”

“What? Why? Don’t you know enough?”

“So that I can be sure that I can help, first off. Also, the way I’d be doing it involved me giving you something rather personal, so…” He trailed off with a gesture that indicated he expected the man to talk.

He sighed. “My name is Shigaraki Hisashi. My brother’s name is Kazuki, and he’s been sick since we were children…”

Danny let him give a summary of his life up until this point. He had the vague feeling that he wasn’t being told everything of importance, but, then, not everything about a person’s life could be condensed into an hour or so of storytelling.

Apparently Hisashi had basically raised Kazuki, and once Hisashi’s meta power had come in as a young adult, they’d been completely abandoned by their parents. Hisashi had put together a group of freedom fighters (Danny skeptically recalled the guns, but also forced himself to remember the hints that there might be something like concentration camps for power users) to defend himself, his brother, and others with power. But Kazuki’s illness made him incredibly vulnerable, and as he was Hisashi’s one major weakness…

The feeling that he was living through an ‘X-Men Japan’ comic intensified. He felt so sorry for this guy. Danny knew what this kind of life was like.

“Alright,” he said, softly, finally, “I can help. And, this probably doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but that better world you were talking about? Where people with powers and people without can coexist? I think you’ll be able to make it happen. Just don’t let anyone stop you.”

“I don’t intend to.”

Danny nodded. “I can give you something to help your brother. A power,” he clarified. “But I need you to know, it could change him.”

“Change him?”

“His personality.”

“You were saying something about that before. Forgive me if I don’t agree with you. These powers are tools.”

“Okay, sure, but even just having more options can influence how a person behaves. Just warn him before you give it to him, okay?”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word, after all.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Give me your hand.”

“A handshake?” asked Hisashi.

“Not exactly.”

Danny let a minuscule, almost microscopic, piece of his core break free from the whole. It hurt like a knife to the chest, and some of his physical and mental abilities would be impaired for a while, but he had done it before, and it would heal before long. A fragment this size would give a power on par with those he’d seen so far in this world. It would also grow, of course, but it was unlikely for any human to live long enough for that to become a problem.

He let it pass into Hisashi, and the man shivered.

“That should strengthen his body without being too much of a burden on him,” said Danny.

“What kind of power is it?” asked Hisashi, reclaiming his hand and flexing his fingers.

“Uh,” said Danny, casting about for something vague that would fit. “A gradual stockpile of power. That enhances the user’s body.” That should be close enough. “Remember, ask first.”

“I will, I will,” assured Hisashi one more time. “And you can be sure I’ll be returning regardless, to thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

It took a while for Hisashi and his men to clear out. Longer still for Danny to find a new place to sleep. But he did.

He woke to a time medallion around his neck and Clockwork’s exasperated expression. “Daniel,” he said, “what did you do?”

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Toshinori and Izuku stared at Danny with open mouths.

“You’re the original stockpile user?” yelled Izuku, pointing.

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Surprise?”

[aprilsrant]

Honey Honey! | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

PAIRING: oliver wood x slytherin!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s friend takes his plan one step further, determined to get the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and the overthinker slytherin together. 

WORD COUNT: 2,032.

PREVIOUS PART: Lay all your love on me.

NEXT PART: When I kissed the teacher. 

REQUEST: literally one person asked for a part two and I had to do it. I have in mind another part, and possibly last one, so if anyone is interested let me know!

WARNINGS: I don’t think so.

A/N: Please remember English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, you can always correct me and I’ll fix it. And yes, the title is another ABBA song because why not? 

I still can’t believe the first part got like 150 notes. Thank you so much! 

Masterlist.

Gif below it’s not mind, credits to the person who made it.

Three days after the party in the Ravenclaw Common Room, that same one in which she almost killed one of her best friends, the unexpected happened.

His mouth lifted in a grin, white teeth showing, eyes sparkling with excitement and, at the same time, craziness; Dorian, the one who barely escaped his early death, sat beside them, leaning his body on the big root of a tree near the Black Lake, orange and brown leafs beneath him. The other tree exchanged glances. 

The afternoon was about to take an interesting turn. It’s not like he was never happy, but this particular kind of happiness came with blaring red lights, screaming and alerting everyone close enough.

Silently agreeing to ignore the boy’s strange, but not new, behaviour, (Y/N), Isla and Ethan kept working on their assignments. Before any of them could write something on the pieces of parchment, Dorian fakely cleared his throat. None of them looked at him, suppressed smiles on their faces.

(Y/N) had finished writing a sentence for her Charms essay when he tried to catch his friend’s attention again. But now using a different strategy. After the third long sigh that left his mouth, Isla, with lips pressed in a thin line, finally turned her head in his direction.

“Yes, Dorian?,” she said. Her harsh tone rivaling Professor McGonagall’s. 

In an impossible way, his grin grew larger, resembling the Cheshire Cat from the classic Alice in Wonderland. Dorian fixed his position, making himself more comfortable against the root, legs stretching (a few inches away from Ethan’s ink bottle), eyes closed and fingers gently hitting each other, taking that typical stance of someone who’s planning something. 

“What is it?,” asked Ethan impatiently.

“I come here bearing good news, no, excellent news and you treat me like this?” Always the exaggerated, Dorian feigned a hurt expression, right hand going to his chest and grabbing the part where his heart was placed.

Having enough of his games, (Y/N), who wanted nothing more to finish her paper and take a nap before dinner, decided to step into the conversation. “What excellent news?”

Dorian dropped the wounded act and smiled at her, glaring at the others as if he was saying ‘this is what good friends are supposed to be like’. He changed his posture once more —he really couldn’t stay still—, now sitting closer to them with his legs crossed, hands playing with one of the chocolate sweets Ethan had been trying to transform. The corner of his mouth never lowered. 

“Nice to hear you’re interested, my dearest (Y/N), because this concerns you directly.” She regretted ever asking him the minute that answer rolled from his mouth and his dark brown, almost black, eyes shined with mischief. Ethan’s and Isla’s confusion showed through their faces. “I just, like just, saw you know who and he,” Dorian stopped talking when he saw his friend’s disturbed expression. Rolling his eyes —how could they be that dumb?—, he explained. “Not that You-Know-Who, the other one… Ugh, I’m talking about Oliver Wood.” 

Their mouths took the shape of an O, realisation finally coming to them.

“He asked me what day you would be free to tutor him, so now, thanks to me, you have a date with Oliver this Saturday morning.”

(Y/N) and the other two stared at him. While Isla and Ethan broke into a fit of thrilled laughs and big smiles, high-fiving Dorian for his “work”, she was trying to control her anger and the words —the majority of them being insults— ready to leave her throat.  

Why was he so keen on her and Oliver being together? Why couldn’t they understand that she was not the kind of person who would act on her feelings? 

Yes, she had made it obvious that she liked the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do something about it. She had always been awkward and, of course, situations with strangers (did she consider him one?) tended to go that way. The girl knew that if something, anything, went wrong with him she would overthink nonstop.  

Saying nothing, (Y/N) quickly grabbed her things —a dark blue bag with white dots forming the constellations, the parchment on top of it and the quill on her hand—, stood up and left with a quick step carrying her body, ignoring her friends screaming her name to come back from near the Black Lake’s shore. 

Entering the castle, bustling with cheerful students making their way outside to enjoy the warm and sunny afternoon, she decided this was the perfect moment to take that much needed nap, even if she hadn’t finished her assignment yet. 

The Slytherin was walking down one of the corridors, this one less transitaded, when she saw the particular crimson fabric of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team’s robes. She lowered her head, hoping it was one of the Chasers or any other member that wasn’t him.

Noticing the person wearing the uniform passed right beside her and didn’t say anything, she sighed in relief.

“(Y/N)?” said a disembodied and sweet voice from behind her. Even if she couldn’t actually see the person calling her name, she knew perfectly who it belonged to. 

Bloody hell.

Before turning around to face him, she closed her eyes, preparing herself. She’d never mind his presence, or him calling for her —hell, (Y/N) dreamed of that happening every now and then—, but now was definitely the wrong time for this. She was angry with Dorian for trying to set her up, exhausted from not being able to get used to the routine again and annoyed because of the amount of homework. 

Finding his black shoes extremely interesting and intriguing, she murmured a small response.

“Fancy to see you here, I’ve been trying to talk to you since the party but I didn’t want to bother you in class, you always look so focused on the lessons, and with Quidditch practices I couldn’t find you in your free time,” Oliver continued. He had been trying to reach her? Her? “I found Dorian instead and he said you were free to tutor me on Saturday morning. If you can’t or don’t want to or whatever, you don’t have to. I know I should have talked to you first, but I didn’t see you anywhere and I was getting desperate because I can’t lose this opportunity and… and I’m rambling a lot, sorry.” He stopped tapping his thumb against his broomstick’s handle.

All at once, the feeling, more like an intuition, that he could be nervous around her engulfed (Y/N), spreading a warm sensation through her body. 

She wanted to say no, even when this was the chance she’d wanted for too long but (Y/N) knew herself. The endless overthinking that she’ll have to endure before, during and after their “study date” —what if she was a horrible tutor?; what if he didn’t understand anything she’d said?; what if she wasn’t good enough?; what if he never wanted to speak to her again after it?; what if he failed and blamed it on her?; what if all this was a big and cruel joke?, would he do that to her, to anyone?—.

She really did want to say no, but how could she when he looked like that? Upper lip biting nervously on the bottom one, his cheeks of a rosy colour, constantly shifting his body’s weight, fingers fidgeting. 

“I, um, of course, no problem,” she assured. 

Why did she have to be such a people pleaser? 

And why did she have to like him so much that when he smiled, relieved because of the answer, her heart stopped for a second and her stomach turned upside down?

|||

(Y/N) was sure Oliver had never wanted to revise Transformation so early on a Saturday, especially when his team was just a few hours away from playing their first Quidditch match of the season. She wasn’t so thrilled either, weekends were the only days she had to sleep till lunch, her roommates knowing that waking her up before one in the afternoon would lead to a pissed (Y/N) and no one liked that version of herself.

“Look, we can reschedule if you want,” she said after watching him fail once more at conjuring birds from the tip of his wand, “you are worried about the match and that’s making it impossible for you to focus on this.”

The Gryffindor glanced at her through his eyelashes, a frustrated look in his eyes —(Y/N) couldn’t figure out if it was because he was losing his time here with her while he could be training with his team one last time or because the only thing coming out of his wand were yellow feathers—. 

Running both hands across his face, he replied, “I-I don’t want you to waste your time, but I suck at Transfiguration and we haven’t even started with Potions, which is worse, and you make it seem so easy because you’re amazing at this. But I’m not and Professor MgGonagall said that if…”.

For someone who had a brave and confident exterior, Oliver Wood did ramble quite a lot.

“I know what MgGonagall said,” (Y/N) interrupted, choosing to ignore the part where he complimented her, “and you are not wasting my time, Oliver. I agreed to help you, remember?” He nodded his head slowly, watching his hands. (Y/N) thought he looked like a kid getting reprimanded. “Now, try one more time.”

And one more time he failed, yellow canary feathers falling down to the floor,  joining Oliver’s past attempts at mastering the Bird-Conjuring Charm. 

She saw him scratch his forehead with his eyes closed and lips barely visible because of the way he was biting on them. 

“You’re not doing the correct hand movement, I think that’s why it isn’t working,” (Y/N) noticed, “look, give me your hand.” She grabbed his right hand, the one holding his wand, delicately, fingers barely touching the skin. Taking his wrist and positioning herself on Oliver’s side, she showed him how to do accurate motion. “And you just say Avis.”

The next time he did the incantation, a loud blast, pretty much like the sound of a gun being fired, resonated throughout the place. Once the smoke dissipated, several yellow birds flew from the tip of his wand to the empty classroom they were practising in. Twittering and chirping filled the room, but as quickly as they did, they became background noise when Oliver let out a loud laugh at his achievement. 

He turned around, a big grin on his face and brightness in his eyes, now a completely different person. She smiled at him, his excitement starting to feel contagious.

“See, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself,” (Y/N) murmured. If only she’d take her own advice. “I think you’re good to go and-and do whatever you do before a Quidditch match.”

“Thank you, for agreeing to this.”

She shook her head, the corners of her mouth slightly going up. “No problem.”

Oliver walked towards the door and before he opened it, the boy asked, “will I see you at the match?”

“Maybe.”

“Nice, it’ll be good to see you there,” he’d smiled at her one last time and left the unused classroom. 

Biting down the nail on her thumb, (Y/N) let out a silly giggle, one of those that only escape people’s mouth when they are drunk or can’t get that one person out of their minds. Perhaps she was reading into this situation the wrong way, but for just a tiny moment she didn’t care. She enjoyed the warm feeling on her stomach, as if a ton of thestrals had suddenly decided to fly across it, and the erratic pace of her heart every time Oliver would glance at her or say anything remotely kind. 

Then the realisation came and with it, tangled like some kind of broken and dark creature, her severely damaged pride. She had to admit to Dorian’s face that he was, in fact, correct and that his ridiculous plan may actually work.

TAGS: @peeves-a-legend​ (amazing person and writer, read all of her work!).

[oohnoniall]

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter One (Anastasia)

WARNINGS: cursing.

       The Grisha were puppets. She could tell that from the way her father had them paraded before him. No one should be treated the way they were and yet, it was the safest they had ever been. She had not grown up in a time before the Darkling. She had only ever known him to reside over the Little Palace. He kept the Grisha safe.

       That didn't stop them from having to perform great feats at the winter fete every year. She had been in attendance every year since she was six.

       She still remembered that first one clearly. It had been the first time she had been presented to the court. Her mother had actually come to her room, getting her ready to be shown off like a prized horse. It was the first time she had been allowed to wear a tiara.

       Nikolai had teased her for it the entire night. He still teased her for it.

       "Annie," a voice hissed to her right. Her eldest brother looked proud in his jacket, his medals pinned to his chest. They showed that he had claimed something in his year of service. Even if she was certain that it was not a brain. "Get your head out of the clouds."

       Vasily had never exactly been close to Anastasia. He had always been more focused on learning how to run Ravka, how to be the king that their country deserved. He had never paid much attention to her as Nikolai had. He hadn't paid Nikolai much attention either. Vasily was less their brother and more an acquaintance.

       Yet he was all that she had.

       Nikolai had left three years before to study and to serve in the military. Anastasia had written him daily letters for the first year, weekly the second. Now, she was lucky if she wrote him monthly. He didn't answer the letters. Too busy with his studies, with forgetting all about the life he had lived back home.

       Forgetting Anastasia.

       "My head is never in the clouds, Vasie," she huffed as she straightened her spine. She found it somewhat hard to breathe in her gown. Her corset was too tight, her mother had said her waist needed to be smaller and her maids had apparently agreed. Despite the lack of oxygen, there was no denying that the gown was beautiful. It was a shade of cream that matched Vasily's jacket perfectly with sky blue lace detailing on the bodice and matching blue flowers embroidered along the hemline.

       It was not the prettiest gown she owned, but it was one of her favorites. If only because she liked that she stood out just a bit from her family. Her mother's gown would be plain, letting everyone focus instead on the Lantsov emerald that would rest on her left hand. Her father and brother would both be sporting their military jackets, the pins and medals gleaming in the light. If Nikolai had been there, he would have at least been the one to escort Anastasia.

       Instead, her arm was linked with Vasily's. A bored smile crossed her features, taking away the seventeen-year-old's normal vibrancy. She despised the winter fete. The past three years had all been more disappointing than the last.

       It had nothing to do with the Grisha. But it had everything to do with the fact that she had no one to speak with. No one to confide in or giggle with when the night grew boring. Life without her brother had become stale, boring even.

       She sighed softly, trying to push out all those negative feelings as Vasily began to gently pull her out of the small antechamber. Her heart pounded in her chest. A four-eighths rhythm that seemed to skip the second beat. She wondered what it would sound like as an aria.

       "Presenting His Highness Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov and Her Highness Princess Anastasia Lantsov," a booming voice announced to the waiting crowd of nobles and rich merchants that surrounded Os Alta.

       A small smattering of applause greeted them, as it did every year. They were not the show though. They were merely just important guests, visitors to the show of something amazing. Something that none of them were entirely prepared for. At least, not yet.

       "Mingle," Vasily murmured in her ear, not bothering to bend. The two were only mere inches apart. A fact that Vasily hated and Nikolai had found humorous. "Just don't wander far from my sight."

       "And if I don't?" She did not move to raise a brow or do anything that might cause alarm. She barely moved her lips as she spoke. Speaking with Vasily just meant keeping it quiet and not allowing anyone to hear.

       "Then you'll never make a friend that isn't Nikolai." Despite their lack of a relationship, he did care for his younger sister. He cared for his brother as well. Although that relationship was far more strained. Not even Vasily could ignore the rumors surrounding his siblings. Anastasia, however, would never be a threat to him getting the throne upon their father's death.

       She gave a very slight nod of her head. If one happened to see it, they would merely assume she had just shifted her stance or something of that nature. They'd never realize that she had agreed to do something for him. Even if it was as simple as mingle with those who gathered with them in celebration of the second army.

       Her brother released her arm, allowing her to slip free from him and into the crowd. She would not leave the room. She knew better than to cause Vasily a heart attack. Had Nikolai been there, she wouldn't have had to worry about any of it. She would have been able to do as pleased. He'd just follow after her, his charisma hiding the fact that he was threatening people or watching over the sister he'd never asked for.

       Soft laughter, low tenors mixed with high sopranos, filled the air with a gentle melody. One that Anastasia could feel tingling in her bones and in her heart. The melodies of life in Ravka had always seemed to flow through the princess. She just hadn't said a word about it to anyone. Her mother had only ever been told she excelled in music lessons.

       She had strived to excel in everything though. Anything to avoid being sent off like her brother.

       "Princess," a tall young man stepped in front of her, blocking her from moving forward. He bowed at the waist to her, his left arm going behind his back in a sign of respect. His dark, blue-black hair fell into his face in the softest of waves. Briefly, she thought about reaching out to run her fingers through them. "I was certain we wouldn't be graced with your presence this evening."

       "And why exactly is that?" Her tone was soft, lilting and pretty. If she added a bit more breath it would sound more like a song.

       "There's a rumor that your parents sent you to Fjerda a week ago," he admitted as he straightened his spine. His eyes were bright, only a few shades darker than the Lantsov emerald. She wondered how many women he had enchanted with his eyes alone.

       Anastasia forced a gentle laugh to leave her lips as she looked at the man. "I'm afraid I will not see Fjerda for a few more years. Although, my departure date is not to be common knowledge." Her eyes glinted in the light, matching the sky blue detailing on her dress.

       "Of course, your highness," the man nodded his hand once. "Might I have this dance with you?"

       She considered it for a moment. A dance didn't mean they'd be courting. Nor did it mean she would be respected. Everything was so political nowadays. If she did not do the right thing, she would create a scandal. However, most of the time it felt as though if she breathed wrong she would cause a scandal or trouble of some sort. It was all quite exhausting if she were being honest.

       Slowly, Anastasia took the man's outstretched hand. "Of course."

       He led her towards the small dance floor. The winter fete was not a place for dancing. But her mother had thought that it would be nice to have a bit of a dance. She was certain that it had only been in case Nikolai or Vasily had caught sight of a woman that might one day become a queen. Or at the very least it made for a good chessboard.

       "What is your name?" She asked as he placed on hand on her waist. She could feel eyes on them. She was certain his family was watching closely, certain that her brother was preparing to protect her honor.

       "Dima Antonov," he said as the music began to swell. He led her through an intricate waltz. One that she had danced a million times. It was practically drilled into her feet.

       The music spoke to her in a way that nothing ever had before. She loved the way it made her feel as though she were floating on air. Every rest was like holding her breath, the crescendo was the beating of her heart as Dima twirled her across the floor. Her gown floating around them as though there was nothing holding her onto this plane of existence. She could fly away, farther than any bird.

       "You're an incredible dancer," his voice brought her back down to the earth. Gravity pulling against her limbs and her hopes.

       "Oh?" An amused smile crossed her features. "You're not so bad yourself."

       A glint of something was in his eyes. She could not tell if it was amusement or something darker. She prayed to the Saints that she would not have to deal with a pining lordling with dreams of becoming king. It wasn't as though the throne would ever fall to her. Yet, some of these lordlings seemed to believe that they would inherit the throne upon marrying her. Her betrothal didn't seem to matter to any of them either.

       Why would she marry a backward Fjerdan when she could have a good, honest Ravakan? Honestly, the whole thing was rather dull.

       There was nothing that could be done about her marriage. Contracts had been signed long ago. Although, the Fjerdans were not holding up their end of the bargain particularly well. It seemed as if they assumed they could do whatever they wanted to the Grisha and get away with it. It seemed as though all they cared about was getting another country to trade with them. Something that her parents also wanted.

       "Thank you, your highness," Dima broke her out of her thoughts as he dipped her in time with the music. Her long flowing hair nearly touched the floor as strands began to fall from the mess of braids that her maids had put it up in. Her heart skipped another beat as she stared up into his eyes.

       Love was such a trivial matter to her and yet, she found it hard to not be wooed by bright eyes and a dazzling smile. She was just a girl after all. A girl with hopes, dreams, ambitions.

       Dima's dazzling smile just happened to be distracting enough to keep her mind off of her ambitions.

       "I've heard that the Princess of Ravka was a sight to behold, but I didn't expect the rumors to be true." He admitted as he gently pulled her back up. She found that she was pressed rather closely to the young man.

       "I take it that this is your first winter fete?" One of her eyebrows rose just a fraction of a centimeter, barely enough for anyone but the man standing in front of her to notice.

       "I've been spending my time with the First Army. My father is a general," he admitted as he stepped back enough to make their dance proper once more. "I've finally been allowed leave and thought I would spend my time is Os Alta."

       "And this has nothing to do with our new Sun Summoner, does it?"

       "Nothing at all," Dima's lips quirked in a handsome smirk. One that sent heat racing to Anastasia's cheeks. She fought down her blush, not wanting a soul to know her feelings.

       Her mother had once told her that she was an open book. Her emotions were easy to read and easy to figure out. Her mother had made sure that she knew it was not a good thing. Beauty was what mattered. At least, until she had done what she needed to. Then she could worry about falling in love and being in love. Until then, she had to focus on the Fjerdan prince and providing an heir when the time came.

       Anastasia's life was nothing more than a game of chess. She just didn't know if she was the pawn or the queen.

       The music slowed to a stop, her heart still kept the steady beat of the waltz. If only to keep it inside of her for a few hours more. Dima stepped away from her, bowing his head politely.

       "Thank you for the dance, your highness," he took her hand in his and raised it to his knuckles. He brushed his lips against it once, before he slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and out of her life.

       She knew better than anyone that it was easier to dance with royalty than actually spend time with them. It was one of the reasons why Nikolai had been her only friend for so long.

       Anastasia did not allow for this to keep her sedated for long. Instead, she slipped away into the crowd. Her eyes searched out Vasily, who was drinking something that was not water while flirting with a lord's daughter. One that he had been speaking with for nearly a year now. She was expecting a courting announcement any day now.

       Vasily being preoccupied was a blessing to her. She could escape from his supposedly watchful gaze and find something to do that was not fawn over the Grisha and what they could do. It wasn't like she hated the Grisha. She just thought that they didn't need to be put on parade. There was no reason for them to be a sort of sideshow.

       Anastasia slipped out of the throne room of the little palace. The noise of the music and the endless chatter allowed for her to be silent, despite the harsh clicking noise of her heels on the tiled floors.

       She could not lose herself completely in the crowd. Others moved out of the way for her, occasional bows were thrown her way while others tried to speak with her about some piece of political jargon that she didn't particularly care about. She was certain that they were only speaking to her because they thought she had her father's ear. It would be quite a shock to them when they realized that she didn't. She had no say in anything political. She was not allowed in council meetings.

       All she was was the pretty princess. The one they could trade for marriage and gain political allies through. It was quite aggravating if anyone were to ask for her opinion. Which they more than likely wouldn't. No one ever did.

       She kept her head held high, her chin pointed just slightly to show she knew who she was and what power she held, as she walked down the hallways and through the crowds. She rounded a corner, her brow furrowing as she noticed something out of the ordinary.

       A man in a guard's uniform. A man that she did not recognize.

       Anastasia knew every guard in the palaces. She had trained with much of them under Nikolai's orders. They had treated her with respect and constantly allowed her to win while also ignoring her horrid aim. Seeing someone new at the winter fete? That was quite unlikely.

       "Excuse me," her voice was soft, barely carrying above the noise of the music and idle chatter. Yet, anyone who knew the royal family would have stopped at her voice. The man kept walking for two steps before realizing his mistake.

       Something was very wrong in the Little Palace. None of the guards should have continued walking. Not even the freshest of faces would have made that mistake.

       She could tell that the man was cursing his mistake as he turned on his heel. There was a look in his eye. A glint of rage, of anxiety even. She would never wish to be the one that rage was directed against. His blue eyes seemed to stare into her soul, drowning her as though it were the depths of the sea or the Fold. His cheekbones were high, sharp enough that they might cut her if she were to touch them.

       She ignored the thundering in her chest, her four-eighths time had become a sixteenth. Fast, quick, ready to jump into her throat.

       The fact that his rage soon melted into the look of one of a new recruit did not help. His features still made him deadly, despite the innocence that he had schooled into his features. Anastasia was someone who wore a mask every day of her life. She had gotten rather good at figuring out who was faking things. She had found different ways to discern who wore a mask and who wore their true face. It was normally in the eyes, in the quirk of their lips, the slightest motion of the eyebrows. There was always a tell.

       It didn't matter who wore the mask.

       "Your Highness," he bowed somewhat awkwardly. It was almost as though there was something wrong with him. Like he had been hurt before or like he found it difficult to bow before anyone. Perhaps he thought himself a king in his own right. "May I help you?"

       His Ravakan was somewhat harsh, the syllables not coming out as easily as they would for a native speaker. She didn't think that was a warning sign. If they had needed more guards, they would have looked to recent immigrants. They'd be too happy to work for the palace and send money back to their families. She just wondered where exactly he was from. The accent didn't seem to be anywhere she could place.

       It was too prim for Kerch and too gentle for Fjerda. Maybe he was from Novi Zem, but he didn't have the air. She figured she would find out later. Now was not the time to question anything as simple as where his accent stemmed from. That would be a conversation for later.

       "You're new," she said as she stepped forward. She did not step close enough to be within his personal bubble, just enough so that he could hear her without straining himself. "I haven't seen you on the grounds before." She had not sparred with him before. It was just improper for her to say so with the entirety of the court present.

       He cleared his throat once, as though he was unsure how to approach her. Or maybe just the topic at hand.

       ”They’ve had me preparing for tonight for the last few weeks,” he said it casually, as though it were nothing but the truth. It should have been. No one would have been fool enough to break into the palaces on the one night when everyone was on high alert.

       At least, that’s what they had all been led to believe.  There was no telling if this was the truth or not. No telling if they were actually safe or if they were all just pawns in someone’s chess game.

       Anastasia was prone to believing one over the other.

       ”I see,” her eyes blazed as she looked at him, not daring to back down from his soulful gaze. “Well, in any case, I like to be well acquainted with my guards, Mr?”

       ”Vanzin,” he said quickly. He no longer looked nervous, the name fell smoothly from his lips. “Nikolai Vanzin.”

       ”Nikolai?”

       ”My mother thought it would be lucky to name me after a prince,” his cheeks heated slightly, enough to make her believe the excuse.

       ”Very well then, Mr. Vanzin. I will see you later then.”

       “I’ll be here all night, Your Highness.”

       A small smile crossed Anastasia’s lips at that, a gleam in her eye that had nothing to do with mischief and everything to do with the new handsome guard. “I expect to see you on the training field tomorrow.” She did not wait for his answer as she turned away.

       Anastasia did not notice the scowl that crossed Vanzin’s face, nor did she notice as he slipped unnoticed into the crowd. Vanzin soon becoming nothing more than a ghost.

       A ghost who went by the name of Kaz Brekker.

[annabethy]

42 ;)

#42 I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having,, percabeth

Annabeth’s sure her face looks incredibly pained right now as she stares her date in the eyes. She’s been on quite a few dates before. She thought she'd seen rock bottom by now, but no. This was rock bottom. Every two seconds her date was finding ways to insult her, and she was about one more comment from snapping.

“So, why did you decide to become an architect?” Luke asks. He leans forwards onto his elbows, and for once he looks genuinely interested by her answer. She truly doesn’t want to answer, but she knows that she’s stuck here for at least another hour if she doesn’t want to stoop to his level, so she doesn’t see any option other than to answer.

“I’ve just always been so interested by it,” Annabeth says, leaning forwards to match his stance. She smiles hesitantly when his eyes trail down the front v of her dress she had mistakenly decided to wear. She pauses for a few seconds, thinking maybe he’d have the decency to look away, but his eyes stay glued to her chest, prompting her to sit back up and pretend to scratch her neck just to block his view. “Ever since I was a little girl, I just wanted to be an architect, I guess.”

Luke clears his throat. “I can’t imagine why you’d ever want to do that though.”

“Uh—what?”

“Architecture is so… boring. Not only is it boring, but it’s for people that are good with math and have a big future ahead of them, and I just don’t get those vibes from you.”

Annabeth scoffs in his face.

“We’re both looking for something serious—“

“Never said that.”

“—so I’m going to be straight to the point. I want my wife to be someone there for me. I’ve a busy man, and I’m going to need your help so I can’t have you working your own job.”

Annabeth honestly didn’t think people like this actually existed. She’s met some despicable guys before; she was practically a magnet for them. But Luke had seemed like such a generous person, and she somehow thought that today would be enjoyable. She has never been more wrong.

“So what do you think?”

“I think…no?”

Luke furrows his eyebrows. “No?”

“Yeah, no.” She blinks at him, and she can tell that he expects a further explanation. She decides not to give him one.

“No one’s ever said no to me before.”

“Shocker.”

“What did I do wrong? It’s worked on a million girls before you.”

“Wow. A million. You sure know how to pick em.”

He stutters. “I just meant that girls love the idea of not having to work. You all want an easy life, and I’m offering you that.”

“I’m quite sure that no one wants that.”

“It’s a kind agreement.”

“It’s insulting is what it is,” Annabeth says. There’s a touch of humor in her voice because this could not actually be happening.

“I’ll make you an offer because I know that we both want this to work.”

Annabeth snorts.

“You can have a part time job.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and straightens in her chair, ready to start scolding him loudly, not caring who hears, but before she gets the chance to, someone’s hand is settling onto her shoulder and squeezing. She jumps slightly, tilting her head back to see the person now standing directly behind her, and the face she recognizes but can’t quite pinpoint.

“Hey,” the guy says to Annabeth, looking as though he’s known her his whole life. “Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to know what time you’d be home tonight.”

Annabeth blinks, her brain taking a minute to catch up with his words. “What time I’ll be home?”

Luke raises an eyebrow in what he thinks is a threatening manner. “I was in the middle of something here.”

“I just wanted to talk to my wife really quick,” the guy says, and Annabeth is sent reeling.

“Wife?” Luke asks weakly.

“Wife,” he repeats surely, smiling widely. He turns to Annabeth. “Also, dear, will you be bringing him home with you? Has he agreed?”

She’s about to open her mouth and state her confusion, but then the guy is winking at her when Luke glances away, and she suddenly gets his drift. “He’s getting there.”

Luke tilts his head like a lost puppy. “Getting where? I’m not getting anywhere with both of you.”

“Huh?” Annabeth pouts. “You said that you were serious about this though.”

“About what?” Luke looks thoroughly scared to hear the answer. Annabeth isn’t entirely sure of the answer herself so she looks to the guy with his hand still on her shoulder for guidance.

The guy clears his throat. “Threesome.”

To his credit, Annabeth thinks he looks quite disgusted with his own words.

“What the fuck?” Luke asks. He’s beginning to lean back in his chair, a precarious position.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Annabeth says brightly. She pats the guy’s hand. “I wasn’t looking for a partner — I was looking for someone willing to help my husband and I. I love him, but after five years, it gets pretty boring if you know what I mean.”

The guy gasps. “We are not boring!”

“Then why are we looking for a threesome?” Annabeth challenges.

“Adventure?”

“No.” She turns to Luke. “You in or out?”

“Literally,” Percy adds.

Luke’s eyes go wide as he looks between her and the guy. He appears to be contemplating his existence, and Annabeth is very proud of the image her and this stranger have created. “Are you serious?”

Annabeth nods expectantly.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work,” he says. He wastes no time before he’s gathering his stuff and practically running out, not even glancing over his shoulder to wave goodbye. Annabeth watches him go, surprised that it had actually worked. The two of them hadn’t exactly given an Oscar worthy performance.

The guy’s eyes trail after Luke until he’s out the door, and then he’s sliding down into the empty seat across from her a few moments later. Annabeth smirks as they stare at each other until he breaks the silence.

“So,” he starts, “you looked like you were getting stuck there. Thought you could use some help.”

She laughs. “And that’s what you thought of?”

“I didn’t really think about it before I set the plan in motion.”

“You should probably start thinking things through before you actually end up in a threesome…” She trails off in a silent question of his name.

“My own wife doesn’t even know my name,” he says, laughing and holding a hand out over the table. “I’m Percy.”

“Annabeth,” she returns. For the first time, she takes a moment to really look at him. Her breath catches slightly on his eyes that were a sparkling green. The crooked smile he was giving her made his face seem brighter in the dim lighting of the restaurant, and the quick flick of his eyes made her flush with heat.

“So, Annabeth, was I correct in assuming he was the devil reincarnate?”

“Painfully so.”

Percy chuckles, lacing his hands together in front of him and resting his chin on them. When he speaks, it’s gentle, for just the two of them. “Oh god. What did he say?”

“He wanted me to stay home and take care of his babies, or some shit.”

“Men,” he says, disgusted.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, but I like to think I’m different.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well, for starters, it seems that I’m the one on a date with you.”

“Is that what this is?”

“You tell me.” His eyes are dark but calm. She can tell that he won’t get upset if she rejects him. The way he composed himself was already a big contrast from the way Luke did. He kept his eyes on her face and his hands away from her. He gave her space — she was the one in control, and it was for her to decide what she wants to do.

“I couldn’t say,” she settles for, choosing to push him further. To see how he reacts. “You’re sitting in the middle of a fancy restaurant with me, but why are you here in the first place? Where’s your date?”

“Would you believe me if I said that I work here?”

She looks him up and down. He’s not dressed badly, but it’s by no means work attire. “Not a chance.”

“Well, I do. Kinda.” Percy chews on his lower lip. “I don’t work here, but I’m here all the time. It’s sort of my mom’s restaurant?”

“Wow,” Annabeth says, impressed. “A man who can cook.”

“I’m better with pastries, but I get by.” Percy chuckles. “But no, there’s no other girls in the picture.”

She notices that the smile hasn’t left Percy’s face for one second, and she has to admit she’s never been this intrigued by someone she’s just met before. Something in the back of her head tells her to use her common sense, but she’s been doing that all her life and it still ended with her on a date with Luke. She figures it couldn’t hurt to live a little for once.

“I don’t know how to cook,” she warns, “or pick my men, apparently.”

“It’s your lucky day! I can teach you how to cook, and this is, of course, for you to decide, but I think I’d be an awesome choice of yours.”

Her stomach flutters. “You might just have to prove it, then.”

“I can do just that,” he promises.

“So when’s this first date, then?”

“Did we not settle that this was an impromptu date?”

“You seem desperate.”

“You’re cute,” is all he says.

“I don’t think we want to start something where Luke was first,” she explains, fighting back the blush she can feel creeping up her neck. She grins at his appalled expression.

“You’re so right.”

“How about you teach me to cook for our first date?”

Percy brightens. “Now that I can do.”

And so she grabs her stuff, and he grabs his. He ends up dismissing her check, and when she tries to protest and put some cash down, he takes her hand in his and laces their fingers together instead. He had a gleam in his eyes, and Annabeth would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited.

They spend hours together in the kitchen, cooking everything Percy could think of. She almost burns his apartment down a few times, but he takes it in stride. The cookies come out warm and gooey, and it might be the best thing she’s ever made. By the time it reaches midnight, Annabeth is covered head to toe in flour and his lips are against hers. She doesn’t mind one bit.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 14

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

Alastair had been about to change for bed when Thomas entered his bedroom, holding his pajama bottoms in his hands. Thomas himself had intended to wish him good night and then go home. But when he saw Alastair, he drowned in his dark eyes like a starving man, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. It couldn’t hurt to stay a little longer, could it? Alastair invited him in, Thomas could hardly refuse.

After a while, they’d stopped kissing to talk while they lay on the bed together, both fully clothed, but their bodies close. Thomas still couldn’t quite fathom that he was here, with Alastair, kissing him. He couldn’t quite believe it was real and Alastair wanted him. He couldn’t even describe how he was feeling right now, flustered and warm, yet shivering at the same time.

‘I love how you ask before you kiss me or touch me,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s not always easy for me to be touched. I still want you to keep asking, at least for now. I like it when you touch me though.’

Thomas hand rested on Alastair’s side, Alastair had placed it there himself. Thomas was starting to suspect that Alastair was very sensitive to touch. It was easy to get a response out of him, and Alastair was looking for just the right amount of pressure in just the right place.

‘I didn’t realize it’d be so important,’ Thomas said. ‘I know in movies people rarely ask to kiss someone, it just sort of happens. Usually when both people want it and apparently they knew that all along. But in real life you’re not always that sure and I felt too awkward, had no idea what you were expecting or if you even wanted to feel my lips. So I figured I’d ask.’

Alastair pushed a lock of soft dark hair out of his face. ‘I guess that’s what happens in most relationships. People just kiss when they feel the other wants it. But I feel like people often overestimate how well they read others, and might wrongfully assume consent.

I’ve heard people complain that asking makes it not sexy, which is stupid because there are very sexy ways to ask for consent.’

Thomas turned very red when Alastair said that, his face burning. He stroke Alastair’s cheek with his thumb. ‘I can’t wait for what you’ll come up with. Have you done that before?’

Thomas then realized, of course, Alastair only had one ex and that had been someone who had mistreated him. Asking about that would be hurtful and he didn’t think Alastair would want to talk about that. Oh shit, had he done the wrong thing already? Thomas was positively freaking out by the time Alastair answered.

‘No I haven’t,’ Alastair admitted. ‘I never really took the initiative since it was always about his wants and desires and I was expected to just follow along. I never realized how important it was to me until you asked to kiss me. It can be difficult, being touched, but it’s much better when I know someone cares if I want it or not.’

In the end, Thomas felt like it was a bit too early for a sleepover. He wasn’t sure Alastair would be comfortable, and the idea of sleeping next to someone else was still foreign to Thomas. He decided it was time to go back to his parents.

‘Will you be there tomorrow morning?’ he asked. ‘Even if we can’t go into the woods.’

‘Of course,’ Alastair said. ‘Same time as always.’

Thomas slept peacefully that night and when he woke up the next morning, he didn’t remember what he’d dreamt, or if he’d dreamt at all. He checked his phone and realized it was eleven already. That couldn’t be true, so Thomas checked again, but the numbers on the clock hadn’t changed. Startled, Thomas got up quickly and got dressed in the first clean clothes he could find. He’d asked Alastair to come here, and considering Alastair consistently woke early, he must have arrived here several hours ago. Thomas would eat quickly, and then go to the Herondales and apologize. He dressed and quickly made his way to the kitchen. Alastair was still there, sitting at the table with his parents in conversation.

‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ Alastair said with a grin when he noticed Thomas.

‘Alastair, I’m so sorry,’ Thomas said.

Alastair shrugged, sipping from a cup of coffee. ‘I take it you needed to sleep. I don’t blame you, I wish I had that ability.’

‘I do feel very energetic and rested,’ Thomas admitted. ‘So maybe it was necessary. I only just woke up.’

Alastair frowned. ‘Energetic and rested, huh? What does that feel like?’

Thomas grabbed some bread and spread some plant based butter on it before putting it in the toaster. ‘I don’t know. Like, not tired, feeling like I can easily do whatever I want to today. You know, when you slept well and are ready to face the day and take on whatever comes onto your path.’

‘I don’t know, that sounds fake,’ Alastair said.

Thomas looked Alastair in the eye. ‘You’ve never felt rested and energetic?’

‘Not really. I just can’t imagine people being rested or energetic. I can’t remember feeling that way and I always figured people were all just in different stages of tiredness. Then of course, under late stage capitalism that’s probably true.’

Thomas knew trauma was exhausting, he’d read a little about it since coming here and had found that fatigue was common. Of course, being tired was hardly specific for PTSD and could be a symptom of nearly everything, and he guessed overall it was common. But could Alastair truly not imagine not being tired?

‘Maybe if you slept better, you’d feel rested too,’ Thomas suggested.

‘You’ve been having trouble sleeping, Alastair?’ his father asked, some concern written over his face.

‘Oh, just the usual. Nightmares, waking up several times a night, then waking up early and giving up on sleep.’

‘You had another nightmare?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair shrugged. ‘I have nightmares nearly every night. I’ve gotten used to it, and tonight wasn’t particularly bad. But even on the rare occasion I sleep long and don’t have nightmares, I don’t feel rested when I wake up.’

‘Fatigue builds up,’ his mother said. ‘One good night won’t make up for that many bad ones. Best you could do is discuss it with your doctor, but I know nightmares like you have are difficult to combat.’

Thomas wished there was something he could do to help with that, but he suspected it was a very complex problem and there was little he could do beyond comforting Alastair when he needed it.

‘Cordelia wants to see us, by the way,’ Alastair said. ‘She’s been texting me for over an hour, but I decided to wait for you to wake up.’

‘Oh, in that case I’ll hurry,’ Thomas said and he quickly finished his breakfast.

He and Alastair left to walk back to the manor. Would Cordelia be very upset about him sleeping late? What would she want to see them for?

‘I’m really sorry I slept in,’ Thomas said. ‘Was it very awkward with my parents?’

‘No, it was alright,’ Alastair said.

Thomas was glad to hear it, he liked seeing how well Alastair seemed to get along with his parents. With Barbara’s boyfriend Oliver, it had taken some time for his father to warm up to him, possibly because Oliver had been the first time any of them had dated and his father had freaked out a little by how fast they were all growing up. Then there’d been Augustus, Eugenia’s creepy ex, whom his parents hadn’t liked at all. They’d kept quiet out of respect for Genie’s wishes, but were proven right when she discovered Augustus had cheated on her.

‘They seem to like you,’ Thomas said.

Alastair shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think they like that I have a useful ability, and that I will do what it takes to save your life than they like me.’

Thomas frowned. That didn’t sound like his parents at all. Being protective was one thing, but they wouldn’t And hadn’t Alastair opened up to his father about his past lately? ‘Did they say that?’

‘No, not really,’ Alastair said. ‘But it’s sort of obvious, isn’t it? They are scared they’re going to lose you, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to save you.’

Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of what Alastair was saying. ‘Those are not mutually exclusive, are they? My parents can genuinely like you, but also be glad you’re willing to help save me.’

Alastair didn’t say anything.

‘What did they talk to you about this morning?’ Thomas asked, genuinely confused.

‘They wanted to know all about university, and how my first year went. I didn’t realize your father was a politician.’

Thomas wondered what was going on inside Alastair’s head, but wasn’t sure if he should press on the issue. Did Alastair not think people could genuinely like him? How did he conclude his parents only liked his willingness to save Thomas when they asked him about his life?

‘He’s on the city council,’ Thomas confirmed.

‘Yes, he said that,’ Alastair said. ‘I think he’s decently leftist, although there’s room for improvement.’

Thomas frowned. ‘In what sense?’

‘He seems a bit moderate leftist still.’ Alastair shrugged. ‘Very much seeking to improve within the system, when really we should be tearing down the system and start over. There’s always room to move farther to the left. But your father seems open to suggestions.’

‘You’re not regretting your decision to stop studying politics?’ Thomas asked.

‘No. I still think sociology is going to be a better fit. I’d much rather do research and write the blueprint for a better, not capitalist society in peace than argue with people about it,’ Alastair said. ‘I like the theory, writing out the arguments and coming up with solutions that are overlooked by others. I’ve always hated debate.’

‘We had to do some debating in school,’ Thomas said. ‘I can’t say I hated it, but I never cared for it either.’

‘I had a complicated stance towards debate in school,’ said Alastair. ‘Mainly because we always had these stances that I don’t think should be up for debate at all. Being against human rights for certain marginalized groups of people is not a valid stance and teachers should not pretend it is. But when the stances were interesting, I did like researching, writing out the arguments. Of course, debate in school is also pretty much acting out the discussion, which I’ve never quite understood.’

Thomas wondered if there were any specific stances he was referring to, but before he could ask they arrived at the Herondale manor. Cordelia immediately dragged them inside when she spotted the two of them. ‘You are so late!’ she scolded.

‘I just woke up,’ Thomas said. ‘What was so urgent?’

‘That girl visited me last night,’ Cordelia said when they were all sitting. ‘Grace.’

‘Who is Grace?’ asked Alastair. ‘Am I missing something?’

‘That girl we saw with Tatiana,’ Cordelia explained, gesturing wildly. ‘She came to my room last night. When I woke up, she was sitting in my chair.’

Thomas remembered Lucie mentioning her name was Grace after following Jesse, but didn’t know anything else about her.

‘That sounds terrifying,’ Thomas offered. ‘Are you alright?’

‘She came to me to ask for help,’ Cordelia continued. ‘Tatiana is controlling her and the only way we can free her is by finding her skin.’

Thomas wasn’t sure he was following. ‘And that’s not on her? You mean her literal skin?’

‘I am definitely missing something here,’ Alastair added. ‘That, or my sister is not explaining this very well.’

Cordelia groaned. ‘She’s a selkie. Siren. Something in between. She has the song powers of a siren, but like a selkie she becomes a seal and can come to shore and turn human. In the process she sheds her skin, which she needs to return to the sea. Tatiana has enchanted it and hidden it somewhere, and as long as Tatiana has it Grace is under her control. She asked me to retrieve her skin for her.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Where is her skin?’

‘Somewhere in the woods,’ Cordelia said. ‘Guarded. She said that if we do not free her, she can make us do anything and so we won’t stand a chance against Tatiana.’

Thomas remembered the ruins from yesterday. The trapdoor neither of them had been able to open. Could that be where the skin was hidden? They hadn’t translated the script yet either. He took out his phone and searched the picture. Taking pictures of the supernatural was very confusing in Thomas’ experience. Sometimes he took pictures of something he could see, only for it to not appear on the photograph. Other times, the picture showed what was really going on. And every once in a while, someone without the sight would take a picture of something they could not see and later while going through their pictures realize there was something strange there. People often thought such pictures were hoaxes, but according to his mother sometimes people really caught something on camera. Yesterday, he hadn’t gotten lucky. The picture of the inscription was gone. Instead, there was a picture of some shrubs Thomas did not remember taking. The picture of the corpse was gone too, replaced by a vague picture of the ground.

‘Alastair, do you have any pictures from the ruins?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair went through his phone. ‘Apparently my camera didn’t agree with the supernatural,’ Alastair said. ‘Only forest pictures I do not remember taking. If we want to go over what we saw, my memory will have to do. This does confirm though, that the ruins themselves are part of something supernatural.’

They spent the next few hours going over Alastair’s memory and copying the script onto a piece of paper. Thomas guessed it was exhausting for Alastair, bringing all of them there, because once they had the whole script on paper, he collapsed onto the couch under Lucie’s Lilo and Stitch blanket. Thomas couldn’t help but think he looked adorable. His eyes were closed, and although Thomas didn’t think he was asleep, he seemed at peace.

Thomas decided to leave him for a while, Alastair had said he’d slept badly last night. Perhaps he could get some more rest. Instead he helped Lucie and Cordelia with the translation. Although he didn’t speak the language of the inscription, Thomas had always been good with languages and he went into it as if it were a puzzle he could solve, first translating the letters into something he could understand and then looking up what it meant and finally turning the words into sentences that made sense.

When Alastair got up from the couch and joined them, they were done with the translation.

‘Did you get anything?’ Alastair asked.

‘Yes,’ Cordelia said. ‘This is interesting.’

Welcome to the land in between

Halfway to the thief of Souls

Here you can guard whichever you do not want found

But every puzzle has an answer and every lock has a key

And beware, for if you stay too long there will be no way back

Your soul will be forfeit

‘A land in between,’ Lucie mused. ‘In between what?’

‘Halfway to the thief of Souls,’ Alastair said. ‘I think that means in between our world and what belongs to this thief creature. I’ve never heard of the thief of souls though.’

‘I have,’ Cordelia said. ‘In my dream, a washer woman appeared and told me to beware the thief of souls.’

Alastair frowned. ‘When did this happen? Last night?’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘No, the night before.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Alastair asked, concerned.

‘Because you were in the woods for most of the day, and when we found you we’d just killed a werewolf and you were injured. I didn’t want to stress you out more.’

‘You didn’t want to stress me?’ Alastair asked, raising his voice. ‘You think ignoring the problem, or keeping it from me will make it go away? You cannot keep such things from me!’

Cordelia looked like she was about to say something in response, but changed her mind. ‘I’m sorry, dâdâsh. I simply had not seen an opportunity, and then I forgot about it. That was all.’

Alastair seemed to calm down, and Thomas guessed it was best to leave it at that. Alastair was protective of his younger sister, just like Thomas’ older sisters were of him, and he understood, but he also knew it could be frustrating. Thomas sometimes hated how easily he understood everyone’s perspective in such conflicts.

‘Alright, yesterday we somehow made our way into the in between land, those ruins,’ Thomas said. ‘And if we stay too long, there will be no way back. How did we get there?’

‘I think these places in between appear and disappear all over the globe,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps it is possible to summon or control where or how it appears, but I am not sure. So these stories of people getting trapped in the woods somehow.’

‘They are trapped in that other realm instead,’ Lucie exclaimed. ‘That boy in the lake, whatever he was sucked into was limited only to the lake so he could not swim out. And Jesse was trapped in the woods in another realm, and that’s why he saw no one looking for him and why no one found him until he’d died.’

‘Thief of souls sounds like a powerful entity,’ Alastair mused. ‘The kind someone like Benedict Lightwood might have struck a deal with. And the name implies his price would be a soul.’

‘There are all kinds of stories of people selling their soul for power,’ Lucie said. ‘But in this case, it seems like it’s someone else’s soul that is bartered away. How do you imagine that works?’

‘I suspect he won’t take just anyone,’ Alastair said. ‘I do not think Benedict Lightwood would have chosen to sacrifice his wife if a random stranger would suffice.’

Thomas frowned, had Benedict Lightwood chosen to sacrifice his wife? The way his father told the story, he must have assumed her death was an unintended consequence, that he might not have been aware of the consequences. But perhaps his father had been too kind in that assumption.

‘The washer woman said something to me about Benedict’s blood, so he might desire a relative,’ Thomas said. ‘And a spouse must have also sufficed.’

‘Someone important to you,’ Alastair said. ‘Although how important could a grandson he never met have been?’

‘He turned into a monster, didn’t he?’ Lucie asked. ‘Does anyone know why that happened? Is that also because of this thief of souls creature?’

Thomas has assumed that was another part of the whole price for magic. But if someone wanted him to trade souls for magic, why transform him into a monster? That would mean the supply would stop. According to his father, Benedict had made deals with several entities though, and there were plenty of ways that could have gone wrong. Perhaps something else had turned him into that monster.

‘No,’ Thomas said. ‘My father had no idea. Perhaps Tatiana knows more since she has access to all his journals and we don’t.’

Thomas wondered why there were no libraries or resources related to the supernatural. Too few people knew about it, he guessed. People sometimes traded information among each other, but no one kept track of everything. Many with the sight either believed they were crazy, or tried to stay away from the supernatural and live a normal life. Thomas couldn’t blame them. But it was difficult that there was nowhere they could find answers, except asking people with some experience in the hopes they’d encountered something similar. His father had been unable to contact uncle Gabriel the past few days.

‘I do not think we can count on getting those journals from Tatiana unless we steal them,’ Alastair said. ‘I think we can now be certain that she is our enemy. My best guess, she wants to bring back her son from the dead and does not care what it takes.’

‘We need to go back into the woods,’ Lucie said. ‘I think there’s more to be found in these ruins. Based on what Grace told Cordelia, that must be where the skin is hidden.’

‘Grace mentioned something about her skin being in the land in between,’ Cordelia added. ‘This must be it.’

Alastair stared at his sister. ‘You do realize we might end up trapped in another world with no way back?’

‘I’ll go,’ Thomas offered. ‘If we fail, I’ll end up trapped there anyway.’

‘Not on your own, you won’t,’ Alastair said. ‘If you must go, I’ll join you.’

Thomas sighed, he should have seen that coming, even if the point in him going was that if they failed, he would be dead anyway.

‘I must come too,’ Cordelia added. ‘We’ll need cortana in case we run into anything else that tries to kill us.’

‘I’m not going to sit here alone,’ Lucie said crossly.

Cordelia looked at her friend with fondness. Thomas wondered, did she feel about Lucie as Lucie felt for her? Thomas was usually observant when it came to people’s feelings, but Cordelia and Lucie were such close friends he struggled to tell the difference.

‘It’s going to be very dangerous, Lucie,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure there are any ghosts there for you to talk to, whereas we need my sword and Alastair’s memory. Thinking about it, perhaps it is better if Thomas stays too.’

‘I have the sight,’ Thomas protested. ‘And I don’t want to stay behind.’

‘Well, me neither,’ Lucie said. ‘If you’re going, so am I. If you want to stop me you’re going to have to tie me up here.’

Alastair gazed at the ceiling as if he was considering the option. Thomas knew Cordelia made a point, and he didn’t want to put Lucie in danger, but he also knew Lucie was one of the few people who could match his stubbornness, and realistically, they weren’t going to stop her.

Thomas sighed. ‘I see you intend to Herondale to the fullest today, Lucie. So, we’ll all go take a walk into the woods, find the ruins, and retrieve that girl’s skin?’

‘I thought we’d discussed none of you are going into the woods.’

They all turned around to see Will had walked into the room. He looked amused. ‘It seems you are all much like me when I was young,’ Will mused. ‘I must say it is very irritating.’

‘I’m your daughter,’ Lucie said. ‘What did you expect would happen?’

Will shrugged. ‘Well, you could have been more like your mother, but it appears you do indeed intend to Herondale to the fullest. I suppose someone has to keep the family tradition alive.’

‘You’re not going to stop us?’ Lucie asked.

‘Oh no, I definitely intend to,’ Will said.

[selfdestructivecat]

@the-local-lunatic13

THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!

Ok so this is gonna be a long list, since my head is only empty when it’s of greatest inconvenience.

Also please read the tags for potential triggers! Lmk if I missed any and I’ll add them right away.

Without further ado, here’s my interpretation of a Sanders Sides Pokemon AU!

* Ok so first of all, the sides are all gym leaders.

* I picture this in the Galar region, but probably with different towns and the like because I don’t remember any of them.

* Basically, just assume that all of the towns are made up, but that Dynamax still is a thing.

* Let’s start with Patton because his story is the least sad.

* His family runs a Fairy Type gym/pokemon nursery.

* Patton is the eldest in a large family, so he eventually became the new gym leader following in his father’s footsteps.

* He has two dads, one who was the gym leader and the other who is a pokemon breeder. They’re both pokemon breeders now and work in a Pokemon Center.

* They are definitely responsible for Patton’s sense of humor.

* Patton and all of his siblings are adopted, but they’re so close that they might as well be related by blood.

* Patton loves taking care of pokemon and would be a pokemon breeder full-time if he could

* But he also loves his family so he continues to run the gym to raise enough money to keep them comfortable and happy

* The Pokemon team I have come up for him is:

* - Togekiss

* - Boltund

* - Greninja (cuz frog)

* - Altaria

* - Frosmoth

* - Hatterine

* (If anyone has any better ideas for pokemon for any of the sides, feel free to throw your suggestions in the notes!)

* Moving on to Logan...

* Like Patton, he also inherited his gym, a Psychic Type gym, from his parents

* However, his family life isn’t nearly as happy...

* Ever since he was old enough to throw a pokeball, his parents have trained him rigorously to become the next gym leader

* They handpicked all of the pokemon in his team

* Except for a Lucario, which Logan caught as a Riolu when he was very young. His parents only let him keep it because of its battle prowess

* So Logan’s team is:

* - Lucario

* - Gardevoir

* - Alakazam

* - Raichu (alolan)

* - Malamar

* - Onix

* (Also this should be obvious by now but not all the pokes will match the gym’s type cuz that’s boring)

* Logan took over the gym when he was 15 and has been running it basically on his own ever since

* His parents still get the final say in all major decisions, even though they don’t really do anything

* Logan resents them, but doesn’t have the courage to stand up for himself

* ENTER PATTON

* Logan is at first pretty skeptical regarding Patton, since he doesn’t seem to take his job seriously

* After challenging Patton to a battle, however, that stance changes remarkably fast after facing a narrow defeat at the hands of Patton’s pokemon

* Even so, he tells himself that he doesn’t have time to become more than colleagues. He must be cordial with Patton so they can coordinate as gym leaders, but that’s it

* Meanwhile, Patton takes one look at this emotionally-repressed man and thinks to himself

* “Oh, this is the guy I’m gonna marry.”

* He then takes literally every opportunity to flirt with Logan

* And he is not subtle AT ALL

* Like he literally goes up to Logan one day and is like

* “I know you’re not ready for it right now, but one day I’m gonna marry you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

* And Logan is VERY confused and VERY flustered because feelings? What is happening to my heart!? Am I getting sick!?

* (And his parents would absolutely disapprove because they are huge homophobes and want Logan to have an heir to pass on the gym to)

* But eventually Patton manages to break Logan’s walls down and they become close friends

* (And eventually more)

* Now, the twins!

* Their situation is pretty similar to Logan’s, at least to a certain point

* Their parents own a Fire Type gym, and were so excited to have a child who would eventually take over the gym

* Two things happened that they did not anticipate

1) They ended up having twins

2) The mother died during childbirth

* Driven by grief, stubbornness, and resentment, the father had the idea that, in order to make the twins as strong as possible, he would put them against each other at every opportunity

* They would constantly be competing to become better than the other, creating an extremely toxic rivalry

* It didn’t work... at least, not at first.

* When they were very young, Roman and Remus were inseparable.

* Even when their father tried to put them against each other, they would rebel against him and not listen

* (Remus had no issue with this, but Roman quietly longed for his father’s approval, even though he knew it was wrong)

* They had a dream that they would run the gym together, and they would talk long into the night about the gym they would create and the pokemon they would train

* That was, until their father started to take a different approach

* He noticed that, despite the two boys receiving the same education and training, Roman had a better affinity for battle (at least when it came to fire types)

* So he started giving Roman more praise and attention

* Roman was thrilled to finally make his father proud

* Remus, on the other hand, was tossed to the side

* Roman was reluctant to give up his father’s attention now that he had received it

* (Looking back, Roman wishes more than anything that he had given it up)

* The twins were driven apart, Roman being trained to take over the gym, and Remus being completely ignored

* One day, Remus ran away, disappearing in the middle of the night.

* Roman was devastated

* He wanted nothing more than to search for Remus, but he knew that if his brother didn’t want to be found, he could vanish off the face of the earth

* Years pass, and Roman takes over the gym

* His father passes away from illness when he was 16

* He can’t find it in himself to grieve

* Roman continues running the gym, hating how quiet the halls are and missing his brother terribly

* One day, he receives news of a new Poison Type gym being established, one heavily criticized for its unorthodox (and, some complain, absolutely disgusting) gym structure and puzzles

* For the first time in years, Roman smiles

* Their relationship is not nearly as close as it was when they were children, and they still have a lot of that competitiveness that was hammered into them, but they’re trying

* And of course, their pokemon teams!

* Roman’s team is:

* - Charizard

* - Wigglytuff

* - Aegislash

* - Milotic

* - Gallade

* - Butterfree

(Maybe he should have more fire types but I like all of these Pokémon for him and they don’t really have a common type among them and ahhhhhhhh...)

* While Remus’s team is:

* - Garbodor

* - Muk

* - Tentacruel

* - Gengar

* - Mawile

* - Venomoth

* While catching up on everything that happened while they were separated, Roman asks Remus how he managed to establish his own gym so quickly

* Remus smirks, saying that he had a little help from a certain dragon...

* WHICH IS JANUS! HE HAS A DRAGON TYPE GYM!

* And this is where we get into that sweet sweet angst

* Janus was born in a small village surrounded by mountains

* A few months before his birth, a disease spread throughout the village

* This disease would coat the skin in angry red boils and drive the infected delirious with sickness

* One day, Janus’ parents found him shivering with a fever, the left side of his face covered in boils

* Fearing for their lives should they catch the disease, they brought the child into the mountains and abandoned him in an old, dark cave

* He wailed in pain and terror until his throat was so hoarse he couldn’t cry anymore

* Dialga, the legendary dragon-type pokemon with power over time, heard his cries and took pity on the child

* Dialga reversed the effects of the illness, curing the child but leaving shimmering scales where the boils used to be

* Dialga then tasked the dragon type pokemon in the cave to look after the child, not trusting humans to ensure Janus’ well being

* A family of Dreepies, Drakloaks, and Dragapults takes a particular liking to Janus, raising him as one of their own

* Eventually, when Janus is a bit older, he goes to visit the town he was born in (supervised by his dragon family, of course)

* Only to find that the village was gone, abandoned by the few survivors of the horrible plague that spread throughout

* Janus felt no remorse

* He knew that he could only rely on himself, and that if he wanted to survive in this world, he needed to be aggressive

* The following week, he said goodbye to his family, only taking with him his best friend, one of the Dreepies in his family that was now a powerful Dragapault

* It wasn’t easy, as he had to learn the language and social etiquette of the people around him (being raised by pokemon would do that to you)

* He even had to resort to stealing in order to survive, which kept him on the run

* Until one day, he met Remus, another kid on the run

* Together, they were an absolute menace. To this day, the two of them have never lost a double battle

* Eventually, they both opened their own gyms, Remus a poison type and Janus a dragon type

* When not busy with the typical duties required of gym leaders, they’re basically inseparable

* Remus is the one person Janus trusts whole-heartedly

* I headcanon them as either really close friends or queer-platonic partners, but I’ll leave it up to you to decide their relationship!

* By the way, Janus’ team consists of:

* - Dragapult

* - Mimikyu

* - Zoroark

* - Arbok

* - Salazzle

* - Kimmo-oh

* So that leaves one side left...

* Ima be honest, I based Virgil heavily on Piers, but bear with me ok?

* Virgil grew up in a very poor town with his mother, as his dad abandoned them when he was very young

* And when I say poor, I mean that there wasn’t even a Pokemon Center

* Even so, he didn’t wish for anything. He didn’t care about traveling or becoming a great pokemon trainer. He just wanted to be with his mom

* (His anxiety made it hard to leave the house, anyway, so he was in no rush to go on some grand adventure)

* His mom had a dream to open a pokemon gym that both 1) incorporated music and 2) was more down to earth than the grand stadiums that were now the norm for gyms

* When she was pregnant with Virgil, she was more than happy to give up that dream for her family

* However, when her husband, their main source of income, abandoned them, her dream became more of a necessity

* The entire town was on her side, knowing that a gym could bring money to their town

* Their “gym” was nothing more than a small, outdoor stadium, but his mother loved it

* The few curious pokemon trainers who decided to challenge the unofficial gym absolutely loved her, and slowly she started to gain a bit of notoriety

* Virgil was terrified. He was afraid that his mom would get hurt by the powerful pokemon that constantly challenged her

* (And he missed her terribly. She still made time for him, but it wasn’t as much as before she took on the role of unofficial gym leader)

* And so, his mom brought him his very first pokemon: an Eevee that always seemed to know exactly how to calm him down

* He loved his Eevee, and he felt a little bit less alone whenever his mom had to leave for work. He was ok.

* Unfortunately, fate had cruel plans for the young boy

* His town was cast into shadow as a maddened Dynamaxed pokemon appeared a few miles away

* His mom, the strongest trainer in town, left to take it down, despite how much Virgil begged her to not go, or to take him with her

* (She had to go. The second-closest city to the dynamaxed pokemon was still very far away. Help wouldn’t come for a while. She was all her small town had.)

* (...She didn’t return)

* The entire town was in mourning, holding a huge ceremony to honor her memory.

* Virgil was inconsolable, barely speaking and refusing to leave his room for almost an entire year

* If it wasn’t for the people in the town, who cared for him as deeply as they did his mother, he probably wouldn’t have eaten.

* The unofficial gym, without a gym leader, was abandoned, and its small glimpse of fame was lost, plunging the town back into a seemingly inescapable pit of poverty and obscurity

* Until one day, a group of thugs came and terrorized the town, letting loose their pokemon and stealing everything they could get their hands on

* Virgil was terrified, but he couldn’t just stand there while people got hurt. With only his Eevee and his only experience being watching his mom in her matches, he challenged the thugs

* He didn’t stand a chance. His poor Eevee was at its knees within moments

* Virgil was distraught, hating his weakness and how he couldn’t protect the town that had become his family. He tried to fight the thugs himself, only to be knocked back by one of their Pokémon’s attacks.

* He got back up and charged again, tears in his eyes and bile rising from how scared he was

* His Eevee, terrified for its master and inspired by his bravery, began to glow...

* ...and in its place stood an Umbreon, body pulsing with newfound power

* This scene rallied the other people in the town, who banded together to drive the thugs away, Virgil and his Umbreon leading the charge

* From then on, Virgil vowed that he would become a strong Dark Type gym leader and create the gym his mother never got the chance to

* He trained hard, swallowing his fear to capture and train more pokemon for his team

* Which consists of...

* - Umbreon

* - Houndoom

* - Galvantula

* - Gothitelle

* - Corviknight

* - Noivern

* The townspeople, much like Team Yell in Pokemon Sw/Sh, would often go to other cities singing Virgil’s praise and unwittingly causing all sorts of problems

* Virgil has no idea that any of this is happening

* Eventually, word gets out again regarding this unofficial Pokemon gym, attracting the attention of the other gym leaders

* Roman is sent to investigate

* He doesn’t expect much, given the general appearance of the town (it doesn’t even have a pokemon center, after all)

* He’s even more put off when he recognizes the outfits of the trainers in the “gym” as the strange people who have been causing trouble all over Galar

* Even so, he has a job to do, so he dons a disguise and plows through all of the trainers, eager to finish the gym so he can go back home

* His desire to leave vanishes faster than a Pikachu with Agility the moment he lays eyes on Virgil

* Just like his mother wanted, Virgil’s battles take place during a rock concert, so Virgil waiting on a makeshift stage with a guitar in hand

* (Virgil feels like he’s going to explode with nerves, just like he does every time a trainer challenges his gym, but the memory of his mother gives him courage)

* As his Umbreon leaps into battle, he begins to sing

* And holy shit Roman is in love

* The small area is filled with spectators cheering and singing along to the song, and despite it being a far cry from any grand stadium Roman has ever battled in, it has more spirit than anything Roman has ever experienced

* It’s the most fun he’s had battling in years

* Virgil is a tough opponent, a testament to his years of pushing himself, but in the end Roman has more experience

* Virgil is devastated at the loss, knowing it would be a blow against the gym’s reputation, but manages to put on a smile and offers Roman a pin: their unofficial gym badge

* Roman smiles, removing his disguise to pin the badge to his clothes and Virgil is like “holy shit that’s Roman the famous fire-type gym leader oh no he’s really hot oh no what have I done I GAVE HIM A HANDMADE PIECE OF SCRAP METAL OH NO”

* And Roman, ignorant to Virgil’s crisis, is like “cmon, we gotta get the paperwork done to establish this place as an official gym!”

* When later asked, Virgil would firmly deny it, but at that moment he had literally burst into tears

* Roman still wears the badge Virgil presented to him to this day, even though Virgil has repeatedly offered him one of the higher-quality badges they now give out as an official gym

* Virgil’s gym is the only one that doesn’t have Dynamax, since he still has some trauma from his mother’s death

* Prinxiety eventually happens because I say so

* And all of the gym leaders are friends also because I say so

I might add more to this AU if people are interested! And feel free to add your own ideas! I’d love to hear what you think!

Sorry for rambling, but if you managed to get this far, thanks for reading! :D

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo (Part 1 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

• • •

Knock-knock.

However common, the sound makes you jolt. You stop everything you're doing to check on your schedule, needing to consult with it first to better establish yourself into reality. It takes a few pages and some seconds of reading for you to determine you don't expect any visitors today.

Knock-knock.

"One moment," you shout; stress spikes as you fail to wrap things up quicker, having to bring the stew into a boil before turning it off.

You're not sure what to anticipate from the one waiting at the door, nor why it's worrying your thoughts as much as it is. A knock was nothing to be afraid of, as wasn't receiving a surprise visit if you were to consider how tidy your home was and how up-to-date you were with your responsibilities. Regardless, the sound of the door opening sends all meditating techniques aside and panic replaces your search for serenity and reasoning. You rush off to the living room and get ready to face whoever's there, though not without letting that alert state show through your posture and the way you hold on tight to the knife you used for cutting the vegetables.

"Who's-"

Warmth leaves your body the second you see who the person is; the knife almost falls, yet the visitor rescues it by its handle and gives it back to you afterwards. Your offensive stance vanishes and you find yourself incapable of storing the weapon away without making yourself seem like an anxious mess. The man stares at you throughout -- making matters worse, no doubt.

"G- God, I'm sorry!" you blurt out, frowning. "I thought you were-"

"I've had worse welcomes into strangers' homes," Bubbles says, remaining unfazed. "Though that still doesn't excuse the… oddity of your actions." He greets Frisk -- now closing the door of the living room -- with a nod and a smile. He then takes a small step forward and closer to you, cornering you in place without doing much about it. "Is there something wrong, (L/N)? You appear different from the first time we met."

You gulp tension away and attempt a smile.

"It's been a rough couple of months, so I've grown... worried about bad things happening," you reply, taking a breath. "N- Not even those two months without Frisk were as scary as these new changes. Back then, I had little to lose -- I'd already lost my own child; there wasn't much left around for me to keep living for. No reason for it. Frisk wasn't with me anymore, and… And I destroyed all my other relationships, so -- in the end -- I was alone and I didn't have anywhere to go." You huff and follow it up with a shudder. "But now… Now I've got plenty to lose and barely any ideas on how to prevent that from happening. I don't want to lose the progress I've made until now, and I… I don't want to keep screwing up so much, either."

"You should seek some sort of counseling, if so."

He takes a step back and sits on the couch when Frisk offers him to.

You copy the man's actions, choosing the recliner opposite to his seat to maintain eye contact with him.

"There's a fine line between fear and paranoia, and I believe you're crossing the latter now," he adds, frowning. "Or do you consider it normal to come running all the way from the kitchen to the living room, pointing a knife at me -- and looking as on-edge as you were just a moment ago?" He stops for a minute. "I understand you're being cautious, and that you're worried over Frisk opening the door to anyone who knocks on it, but your reaction just now was much different from the first day we met -- in a few ways positive, but in most ways not."

"I… I'll try to find some help, then," you reply, sighing. You then bring a hand to your forehead and rub at your temples, brow creasing in the process. "But... May I ask what's the reason for your visit? I thought our next meeting would be by the end of the year," you stop yourself at the feeling of being impolite, "...Not that I mind you visiting! I just… I thought I had more time to research more about monsters."

He keeps quiet for what feels like an eternity, heightened by the loud ticktock of the clock hanging nearby. "I can answer, but only if you promise me you'll be true to your word, and if you provide thorough evidence the next occasion we meet -- both with your counseling and research."

"I already have some on my research," you say, smiling. "Could I show it to you?"

"You should," he replies, impassive.

"E- Excuse me for a moment, then."

He nods.

Nodding back, you walk off to your room and clear your throat on the way there in an attempt at gaining some strength. You can feel your resolve debilitating with each second, likely product of the surprise visit, but undoubtedly influenced by factors beyond it. The bunny notepad gifted to you was still a work in progress. You'd barely just managed to cover half of the ten main people Frisk was associated with. Toriel, Papyrus, and Sans were the three you'd learned most about, while Undyne and Alphys had been left behind with the whirlwind you'd been pulled into since the monsters arrived at the Surface. It's difficult to admit you'd rather go back to how things were before Frisk ended up at the Underground, yet -- at the same time -- there's plenty of things that outweigh that desire, varying from the help and friendship both Toriel and Papyrus offered you, to the 'friends with benefits' sort of relationship you shared with the latter's older brother.

You brush those thoughts aside when picking up the notepad; priorities are rearranged as you step out and make way back to the living room.

No matter what, you weren't about to lose your child simply for allowing them to keep spending time with a group known to have hurt them first. Something had to be done, even if it involved you becoming an antagonist. As lovely as the monsters were and are, there are some sacrifices you're not quite ready to make yet -- however selfish some of these make you feel.

The routine of breathing in and out is kept in mind as you arrive at the living room, where -- true to his word -- Bubbles is still at. He's still sitting on the couch, but at a different spot as he leaves space for Frisk, who's showing him the hundred-piece puzzle they're more than halfway through finishing. A smile can be seen on his face, and he doesn't have his sunglasses on anymore, making him appear much more approachable now. That -- however nice of a sight to see -- changes when he looks up from the puzzle and stares down at you, smile changing to a firm line and eyes narrowing when meeting yours.

"Is that all your evidence?" he asks, gaze going further down to stare at the bunny notepad in hand. "Forgive me for saying this, but I'm afraid that doesn't seem like much, at first glance."

It isn't.

Bile forms in your throat and you're urged to squeeze the notepad tight, too anxious to let your muscles relax and too nauseous not to grow irate. "It's possible it might not be much," you confess, frowning. You then bite on your lower lip to prevent your voice from lowering. "I've had a tough time deciding, and…" You sigh and loosen your shoulders afterwards. "And then other things got in the way, but... Judging by the situation, I should wait until you ask me what these things are, shouldn't I?

"That would be preferable," he replies, gaze and mouth softening. "Care to place that notebook on the table? I'll only need a few minutes to look through it."

"Of course."

With that final agreement, you approach the coffee table and set the evidence down. An instinct to flee from the scene while he reads overcomes your senses, though you remind yourself of the severity of the situation and what lies ahead. You sit back down on the recliner and tap your foot as you wait for him, an action you can't bring control over with how shaky your entire body is. Even so much as keeping yourself in one place feels like a challenge you're not exactly ready to overcome presently. Regardless, you comply and distract yourself by looking at Frisk, who's still finishing with their puzzle.

"It's been months, and yet this is the only information you've found?" Bubbles asks, fixing the sunglasses now resting on his head as he brings the notebook closer to him. "There's hardly ten people on this list, (L/N)," he adds, face scrunching as he reads through the list again. "Just what have you been up to this entire time?"

A combined sense of guilt and embarrassment take over, causing an overall inability to stare at him, already hard to do with the intensity of his gaze. "I've been touring the Underground," you begin, bracing yourself with a breath. "I was also hospitalized for a while, and then there was some... personal trouble with my ex-husband the day after I, well…" Your face burns at the thought. "Spent the night at a hotel with, uh… monster number three."

Bubbles eyes the list again and stops immediately.

"Serif?" he asks, showing you the notebook and pointing at his name. He then looks back to it and skips through a few pages. A subtle curve shows up on his mouth, almost making him appear as if he's smiling. "I assumed as much, judging by how much there's written about him." Sighing, he closes the notepad and stares at you again. "But spent the night in a literal sense, or-"

"Literal!" you exclaim, too stressed to bear listening until the end. "We're not dating, but…"

"You wish you were?"

"Uh… Kinda?"

His neutral expression changes to a subtle frown. "That doesn't answer my question, unfortunately."

"I'm not sure," you elaborate, huffing as you furrow your brow and grimace, headache returning. "We've… We've called each other nicknames a couple of times, and we almost kissed once, but, well…"

"Wasn't he the one troubling you the most?" he asks, frown growing more prominent. "While I do not wish to question you over who you befriend, this is the same man you informed me about a few months ago, who -- quote: 'threatened Frisk with death and did very little to help them out in the Underground'." He stops to breathe in deep, huffing just as loud after. "Can you sincerely admit to me you've developed a crush on him ever since then -- cross your heart?" he adds, forehead wrinkling and hands folding over the notebook. "Has he shown any repentance over his actions for you to be forgiving him so easily?"

"That's exactly why ren's not dating him officially yet!" Frisk intervenes, standing up from their seat like a lawyer would do when defending their client. "They-"

"Please, do not interrupt us. It's for your own good, Frisk (L/N)."

"But it's true," they state, persisting. "I-"

"It's been roughly three months since I last gave this home a visit, and yet I've seen little progress made with the only task I assigned to you, (L/N)," he says, standing up straight. "You were meant to determine and establish which monsters are safe to have around Frisk, and which ones aren't, but -- so far -- the only information you've given me's going stagnant with how long it's taken you to make a decision."

You're the one to stand up next, against letting yourself feel weaker.

"That's what I've been doing, even if it looks like I haven't made any progress," you reply, fists clenching. Your heart races faster with each moment that passes, making you seek some calm through the reminder of how fragile your current physical state is. "I- I've toured half of the Underground with that same man, I've settled an agreement with Toriel as to how much time she's allowed to spend with Frisk, and I'm... I'm trying to understand number three's intentions by-"

"By dating him."

"Please, let me finish."

Bubbles chuckles and crosses his arms, staring down at you afterwards. "Alright." He sighs and loosens up as he massages the bridge of his nose. "Then, would you be kind enough to explain to me what you've learned about him so far? And just why haven't you made a decision yet, if you happen to know him that well?"

"He's, uh…" You hesitate with a frown. "He's difficult to understand, but he... He means well, and I trust his intentions better these days."

"This is the same man you were accusing of being a hypocrite the first day you met him."

"And now it's been months, sir." You harrumph when noticing the sudden rise in your tone. "I've learned enough now to know he doesn't mean any harm."

"And to what extent would you say your trust towards him goes?" he asks, uncrossing his arms and softening his gaze. "Is it enough for you to accept his and Toriel's offer of having you and your child in that new school? Or enough to still hesitate when asked about the nature of your relationship with him?" His stern mouth turns to a frown, revealing whole-hearted concern. "How can you trust him enough for one thing, but not the other -- if one is much more weighted than the other?"

You take a second to think and calm down some more. His questions make rounds about your mind as you weigh the pros and cons of not only your relationship with monster number three, but with everyone else, as well. Finding an answer proves difficult the more you stay quiet to reflect on the heaviness of both sides. Either way, consequences would soon follow, and you were required to act fast -- judging by Bubble's words. If you wanted to let Frisk keep their relationship with the monsters and for you to maintain your own, you needed to speed things up more than you would want to, given how much willpower you have left.

"Because even then, they're still different things," you speak up, breaking the silence. "Accepting that job offer and letting Frisk go to Toriel's school isn't the same as opening my heart out to someone new, when I screwed up big time seven years ago with a different guy."

Bubbles takes the notepad and gives it back to you. Then, he fixes his attire and looks at the time. His expression is hard to read with how serious his eyes and mouth have become, though his calm tone reveals he's neutral over the situation when he replies with, "Who you date is none of my concern, so long as it is done with another consenting adult, and so long as it doesn't bring any harm upon Frisk. The same goes for your friendships, but time's running out, and I need you to start making decisions soon." He stops to slip his sunglasses back on, masking his gaze, smoothened by sympathy for what seems like a split second -- if not less. "It's either that, or I'll have to make them for you." He sighs. "And as I'm sure you know, these aren't the best for you or your child. It's what the department requires for the safety of Frisk, above anything else."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Stay tuned for a Pride Month related notice after the next update is out.

As always, take care, stay safe...

...And Happy Pride! 🌈😄

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

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@merak0

[unincised]

Okay, let’s break this down:

We need to sit down and have a discussion about the current lore in the Dream SMP, guys. Especially after today’s stream (w/ Quackity). This doesn’t make any sense ‘cause I’m tired but OH WELL WHO CARES?!

[SPOILER WARNING]

Also, remember this is all roleplaying, and when I discuss this it is in terms of lore. Be respectful during bits and know that no one truly wants to brutally murder the other (hopefully). :D

My predictions for the Factions that will happen (along with those that already are):

I’m definitely missing a lot of people, but these are the main players in the game.

L’manberg

Tubbo

Fundy

Karl

Connor (?)

Ranboo

Mexican L’manberg

Quackity

George

Sapnap

Karl (yes, I put him twice. He’s a bit of a wild card when it comes to picking sides)

Badlands

BBH

Skeppy

Antfrost

Awesamdude

Dream SMP

Dream

Eret

Punz (technically a merc)

Puffy (which might also mean Niki, since... marriage?)

Purpled

Exiled

Tommy (I’m almost guaranteeing this, you can @ me if I’m wrong tomorrow)

Technoblade

Why Tommy and Techno should not team up with Mexican L’manberg or the Badlands:

Techno is anti-government. L’manberg is government, Mexican L’manberg is government, the Badlands are an oligarchy (their land is neutral, but it’s still overseen by Bad and friends). Therefore, Techno has no reason to team with any of them. He is a wanted, exiled man -- not exactly an assassin-for-hire.

Tommy has a personal agenda that doesn’t line up with any of the factions’ endgoals (at the current moment). Taking over the Dream SMP w/ Mexican L’manberg and The Badlands might help him with retrieving his disc -- especially since Skeppy would be on his side during it -- but we aren’t too certain that’s all Tommy has going for him. He loves his discs, yes, but he also cares a lot about Tubbo. Going against Dream could get Tubbo targeted for use of leverage (and that’s a whole can of worms I’d like to open :D).

Why George was a “bad” king:

Dream’s one rule for Kingship was for George to stay neutral. He claims this was the case for Eret’s crowning, but Eret technically bought his title in exchange for the betrayal of L’manberg during the First Revolutionary War.

Of course, Eret was dethroned after his siding with Pogtopia during the “Final” War, and the crown was given to George on account of his neutral stance during it all.

But George, immediately after given that little bit of power, went and abused it.

Chopped down the L’mantree

Griefed L’manberg (built a mushroom house in front of Tommy’s) even though he was specifically instructed not to enter the walls on account of safety and diplomacy)

Taunting Tommy during his trial

Became VP of Mexican L’manberg w/ Quackity

Used his role as a protection, subsequently making Sapnap and Dream shields in order to stay alive after getting in trouble.

Why Sapnap is betraying Dream:

Sapnap is hurt. He’s been overlooked many times by both Dream and George. He’s often viewed as more of a grunt than a friend. Their trio dynamic has been off for the past few arcs -- being paired together by mere formality than loyalty -- and it’s finally past the breaking point.

Dream’s speech during the Tommy fiasco seemed to have pushed Sapnap over the edge, thus sparking his whole rebellion arc and general hatred of Dream. Dream does still care for them both, in my personal opinion, but Sapnap is taking Dream’s “I only care about one thing on this Server” to a personal level. It’s completely understandable, and I was actually waiting if it’d ever be addressed, but in practise it is becoming a lot more than just a friendly dispute.

Why the Badlands are asking for so much land:

Simple: They don’t really want to establish borders, per se, but more of a general consensus that the Badlands would be overseen by Bad and Friends as a neutral territory. A wilderness in an otherwise governed Server. As for the amount -- their reasoning is that no one is currently using the land, nor will it ever be used on account of distance. If flying was enabled on the server, there would most definitely be structures further from the mainland, but everyone’s main transportation is walking... so...

What alliances does Dream even have anymore?

To be honest, not much. We can’t rely too much on Techno, since Dream’s loyalties lie on the server’s best interest and Techno’s is to just create chaos.

Dream has Punz (hired), Eret, Purpled, possibly Ponk, and if Techno teamed up with them I wouldn’t be too surprised -- but it would be off character. Along with that is Dream’s access to creative mode (which I’d doubt he’d do just to win a fight, but it’s still an opportunity he has) along with his pride that will give him more of an edge than anything.

Why Tommy is getting the blame:

Tommy has been against Dream for most of the SMP. The only time they paired together was because they had a common enemy: Schlatt. From the beginning, however, it’s been constant squabble. The discs, Spirit, Revolution, Wilbur’s corruption, Manberg’s Last Stand, etc. So, in Dream’s eyes, Tommy is the main man to blame for all of this chaos happening now.

But Tommy is a kid (we’re still talking Lore, don’t forget!) who has lived through nothing but war and betrayal, now with a mindset of “nothing stays, cherish it while you can”. So he’s always trying to be the one coming out on top, to help stem any more of his treasures getting stolen, killed, or hurt. This ends up leading into wars, and going against the peak of the hierarchy -- Dream.

(Dream should know better than to blame children, tut tut.)

------

Also, please send help I’ve been writing this while the Dream SMP is building a wall of cursed George pics. I keep losing my train of thought. This was supposed to be a meta post but I’m literally just crying over G R O G.

So, apologies if this doesn’t end up making sense. It’s 12 AM and I’m tired, haha.

[cacophony-of-notions]

My feelings on a common misconception interpretation of Sam in “Slice Girls”: 

TL;DR Sam did not kill Emma as “revenge” and Dean was not ethically inconsistent in his actions with Emma versus Amy.

I have seen many times people claim that Sam killed Emma as “revenge” for Amy. I have seen both his antis and his hardcore stans say this (the latter as a means of “justifying” a decision Sam made that they traditionally wouldn’t stand behind… regardless of the fact that killing a kid to get revenge on his brother would paint him in a far worse light than taking the situation at face-value). 

In the same way that Dean killed Amy because he legitimately thought it was the right call, Sam killed Emma because he legitimately thought it was the right call. That’s it. Hate both of their decisions, agree with one but not the other, agree with neither… no matter what, I don’t think wanting “revenge” and taking that out on a child had anything to do with Sam’s actions. There are a few reasons why.

First, looking at the context of the season as a whole, Sam has been worried about Dean’s mental state for most of the season in much the same way that Dean has been worried about his, and accordingly, they didn't trust each other’s judgment fully. 

Dean killing Amy was to some extent, about not trusting Sam’s judgement due to his attachment to Amy and the metal state Sam had been in that season. Sam had been hallucinating and had also lied about it. So on top of not being sure if Sam could accurately grasp reality at any given time, him hiding it also made it very difficult for Dean to trust Sam to be honest if he was hallucinating, needed help, or needed to take a step back.

Sam’s decision to kill Emma was, likewise, to some extent, about not trusting Dean’s judgement due to his natural attachment to Emma as a father and Dean’s mental state that season. We see, on several occasions in season 7, Sam noting that Dean is drinking more alcohol than usual (which is saying something). Several times in the season, Sam expresses concern over this, to Bobby as well as to Dean directly. Sam’s lack of confidence in Dean is actually enough that, when Dean begins to notice things moving from where he left them and starts to suspect that Bobby is haunting them, Sam repeatedly and flippantly dismisses his observations and chalks all of it up to Dean drinking too much and grieving too hard and being an unreliable witness. 

Second, Sam and Dean came to an understanding about Amy in “The Mentalist”, and Sam ended up saying at the end of the episode that Dean’s actions made sense, and that he was right that Sam’s judgement couldn’t be trusted because he was too close to the situation emotionally. 

Season 7’s “The Mentalist” covers the confrontation between Sam and Dean over Amy, and Sam’s decision to work side by side with Dean again. There are two scenes—the initial blow up from Sam and Dean’s rebuttal, and then the resolution at the end of the episode. 

First the initial blow up and Dean’s rebuttal: 

Dean: We agreed to work the case. We didn’t agree for you to be a dick the whole time. 

Sam: What?

Dean: You’re pissed. Okay? And you’ve got a right. 

Sam: Yeah, damn straight. 

Dean: But enough’s enough. 

Sam: Says who? Look, I’ll work this damn case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend. 

Dean:  No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn’t know her, you’d have done the same thing. 

Sam: I did know her, Dean.

Dean: Yeah, which is why you couldn’t do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can’t. 

Sam: Don’t pull that card! That’s bull! Look, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that if something feels wrong, it probably is!

Dean: Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn’t do it, so I did. That’s what family does—the dirty work. And I would have told you eventually, once I knew that this whole “waving a gun at Satan” thing was a one-time show. I think it’s reasonable to want to know that you’re off the friggin’ high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed. So you can be pissed all you want, but quite being a bitch. 

Then there was the resolution at the end of the episode: 

Sam: Look, you know what... you were right—about Amy. If she was just any monster, I’m not sure I could have let her walk away. I dunno. I mean, I’ll never know. 

Dean: What are you saying?

Sam: What I’m saying is… I get why you did it. You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here’s the thing: you can’t just look me in the face and tell me you’re fine. I mean, you’re not sleeping, you drink for the record-

Dean: Oh here we go…

Sam: Look, whatever. Last one to preach. I know. But… just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?

Dean: You want me to be honest?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: I went with my gut. And that felt right. I didn’t trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I’m having trouble trusting anybody. And as far as how I’ve been acting… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t like lying to you. You know, it doesn’t feel right. So yeah, you got me there. I’ve been climbing the walls. 

Third, in context, when Sam brings up Amy in the car, it is to say Dean choked with Emma in the same way that Sam choked with Amy and it could have gotten him killed—not that killing Emma was somehow vengeance for Amy. See the conversation at the end of “Slice Girls”:

Sam: What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? “You said you kill the monster”!

Dean: I was going to!

Sam: Oh, like hell you were! You think I’m an idiot? 

Dean: What you think I am?!

Sam: Dean, you were gonna let her walk! 

Dean: No I wasn’t. That’s ridiculous! 

Sam: Look, man, she was not yours. Not really. 

Dean: Actually, she, uh, she was, really. She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But uh, hey-

Sam: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head’s not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now... 

Dean: Now what? Oh what, you’re dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal. You’re just as screwed up as I am! You’re just... bigger. 

Sam: What?!

Dean: I don't know!

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... it almost got you killed. Now, I don’t care how you deal. I really, really don’t. But just don’t...  don’t get killed. 

In no way does Sam suggest here that Dean “deserved” to have his kid shot in front of him as some kind of “payback”. In fact, that doesn't really make sense 

In the context of the conversation in “The Mentalist, where Sam said he understood why Dean felt the way he did about Amy. 

It also doesn’t make sense in the context fo Sam’s comment that Emma “wasn’t really yours”. If he did it to hurt Dean, he would have pressed into that relationship, not dismissed it. 

He lectured Dean because he was scared Dean wouldn't have been able to pull the trigger and would have gotten himself killed. It’s the same “are you off the high-dive?” lecture Dean gave him, it’s the same “I did the dirty work for you because you couldn’t”. The shot Sam took wasn’t hesitant, but it also wasn’t emotional. It was calculated and ruthless. It was a choice Sam made, that Emma could not be trusted. He made that call. And maybe he was right—maybe the brainwashing went too deep, and Emma would have come after Dean again if they let her go (which is probably what Sam was really worried about—that she would have gone after Dean again and gotten the drop on him or he wouldn’t have shot her), or maybe she would have come after someone else. Maybe Sam was wrong, and Emma could have been persuaded away from life in a cult. We can say the same about Dean killing Amy. All they had was her word that she wouldn't kill again. And yet, if her son got sick again, it seems reasonable to assume she’d go on another killing spree. Maybe Dean was right to kill her, maybe he was wrong.

Other notes: 

[1] Sam misses a certain detail when he compares Dean’s actions with Emma to his own situation with Amy. Sam only compares the two situation by virtue of him or Dean choking due to an attachment to the “monster” in question. However, there’s a distinction between the two kills that is important within Dean’s personal ethical framework, while it’s not necessarily important within Sam’s... to the point that Sam doesn't really see this distinction at all (in fact, he may not know about it). Namely, Emma had never killed anyone before while Amy had killed four people. Dean’s actions in both situations are actually ethically consistent—which is another misconception in fandom. From Dean’s framework, Emma and Amy are not the same. Emma and Amy’s son are the same. We see the distinction Dean draws between Amy and her son in “The Girl Next Door”: Dean kills Amy but lets her son go because he’s never killed anyone. He doesn’t rescind that even after Amy’s son tells Dean he’s going to come after him eventually and kill him. Dean treats Emma in the exact same way. He tells her he would let her walk away because she’s never killed anyone, and he doesn’t rescind the offer even if it seems like she still might try to come after him again. This is also consistent with how Dean treated Bobby John in Season 6 “Two and a Half Men”, Jack in Season 4 “Metamorphosis”, and Madison in Season 2 “Heart”. 

[2] When he kills Amy, Dean is notedly dealing with trust issues that he himself acknowledges, after what happened with Cas. He trusted Cas implicitly even when Bobby and Sam doubted him, and he got burned, and it shook his ability to trust in anyone (see Sam’s “wobbly” talk above”). Killing Amy is a part of that, according to Dean’s own perceptions. 

[3] To a certain extent, it might even be said that Sam and Dean aren't just wary of trusting each other’s judgement, but also wary of trusting themselves. For example, “You kill the monster” is a hardline stance that’s unusual for Sam and that is rejected by both brothers as early as Season 2 “Bloodlust”. But because Sam doesn’t trust himself at that point in time, and also does not trust Dean’s judgement either, he does what he thinks is “safe” when his own mind is half shredded and he has a depressed and alcoholic brother who he’s afraid is going to let a monster kid murder him one day (be it Emma or Amy’s son). If he were to let Emma go and worse came to worse, Sam doesn’t feel he can rely on Dean to defend himself from her, and he doesn’t know what his own mind state is going to be like in the future. So he does what’s “safe” for them both. In the same way, Dean’s actions with Amy could be viewed as him choosing what’s “safe”.