#but there must be some kind of happy medium

[siena-sevenwits]

.

[jals-stuff]

hello my love! If you don't mind I would like to request something for Orter. He and reader are still students in Easton and absolutely despise each other (something like academic rivals) and they ended up having to take care for a magical creature together for a class project during a few weeks! sorry if its a bit confusing, english is not my first language 🥹

good evening darling~

First of all, I would like to apologise because I originally wanted to make something short but it ended up being just a little longer than what I expected...

edit: part 2 ← right here

also i am receiving a lot of requests recently for some reason. thank you for your patience.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: f!reader, i hope you aren't scared of snakes (this one is cute tho), bit of swearing, not proofread

Taking care of it!

Group assignments are, and always have been the worst. The extroverts usually left you with the heaviest workload and you'd just end up doing everything by yourself while they took credit for it. However this time, the assignment wasn't like anything you would've expected.

The teacher was going to pick random students and put them into pairs, and each duo would be given a small wooden box with an egg inside of it.

“These boxes contain mandragora snake eggs. This species hatches into different colours depending on how you take care of them and help them grow.”

The teacher explained and brought two different creatures to her desk. The left one had beautiful and healthy dark green, glossy scales and stunning purple flower patterns with big eyes and seemed extremely docile; it was a rather medium-sized specimen and it looked kind of cute. 

But the other one was a completely different creature; an aggressive beast with long, hooked fangs, completely hollow eyes and its scales were an alarmingly fluorescent shade of green with almost no patterns at all. Its scales were in a pitiful state and seemed uncomfortably stony. It kept trying to bite the teacher.

“The left egg has been taken care of perfectly, and is now a healthy, beautiful mandragora snake. The right one however, has absorbed too many negative energies from the ones taking care of it, resulting in… this.”

And just as you started wondering how it was possible to mess a beast up that badly with only negative energy, the teacher called out your name.

“(L/N) (Y/N) and Orter Mádl, come and get your egg as well.”

That couldn't be good, this snake was probably never going to hatch at all. The two of you exchanged an uncomfortable yet similar side eye. Existing in the same classroom as him was already enough of a pain in the neck, and now you had to raise a magical creature together?

Oh boy.

…

You were both sitting in front of this egg now, in absolute silence as none of you knew what to say or do. You had never taken care of a mandragora snake— or any type of pet other than a cat in the past, and surely anyone could guess Orter was not the nurturing type.

“This snake is going to have horrible parents.” You thought out loud, and for the first time, you saw the cold, distant jerk nod. He crossed his arms and looked at it for a while without saying a single word. Just… what was he trying to achieve? Did he think he was going to turn into a mandragora snake expert just by looking at an egg?

The teacher cleared her throat to grab everyone’s attention again and pointed at the blackboard. 

“These creatures usually hatch after approximately one week, and they will gain their patterns after one more week, but an unhealthy egg will take longer than that. You must take good care of them until their colours are completely visible. Your schedules have been cleared accordingly so taking care of the little ones should not be an issue for the next month.”

Orter didn’t quite appreciate the idea of spending a month with the likes of you, nurturing and hatching a pet together as if you were some kind of happy little family. He raised his hand.

“Is joint custody allowed?”

“Absolutely not.” The teacher deadpanned at his question and you almost slammed your own face against the desk at how dumb of him that was. After a while, everyone left except the two of you, still staring at the egg.

“That was dumb of you. I’ll be the one to hatch it since you can’t bear to have responsibilities.” You gently pet the egg with one of your fingers. “Isn’t that right, Rivers?” That last part was mumbled as if you were talking to an actual baby, and Orter rolled his eyes.

“Dumb? Should I remind you that your last two brain cells are fighting for third spot?” He mocked, giving you a condescending side eye. “And why are you giving it a name already? It hasn’t even hatched yet.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes and look at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in existence. He made no commentary about the way you looked at him. 

“Since you don't even care enough to give it a name, Rivers will stay in my room. I’ll take good care of it.” You shrugged and very carefully picked the box up, holding it against your chest like an actual child.

“Isn't it supposed to be a two person assignment? How am I supposed to participate if it stays in your room?” He sighed, visibly growing more and more annoyed at your behaviour.

“You can visit if you want, it's not like I do anything other than going to class. Neither do you, I’m assuming.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up from his chair to follow you as you walked to your dorm room. “You’re really going to ignore what the teacher said about joint custody? The snake-”

“Rivers. Its name is Rivers, don't call it ‘the snake’, Orter.” You shot an angry glare at him and he had to physically hold himself back from punching a wall. 

“Rivers can't only stay with you.” He sighed as he finally used the name you had given it; a small victory but a victory nonetheless, even though he seemed a little angry at you for being so damn annoying.

“Neither can it keep moving between your room and mine, and I’m pretty sure that's what the teacher meant when she said no joint custody, besides...” You trailed off, looking down at the egg. “I doubt you're the nurturing type, I wouldn't even trust you with watering a plant.”

You giggled mockingly and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, but you were also right, as much as he hated to admit it. He muttered something and walked away in the opposite direction, leaving you alone with the mandragora snake egg in your hands. 

You were determined to hatch it, with or without this jerk. Carefully, you placed it upon a cushion on the unoccupied bed in your room that was supposed to belong to your roommate, but she hadn't showed up in literal months, so Rivers was now your priority.

You enveloped the egg in fluffy, soft cloth and looked at it for a bit. Sure, you were the nurturing type… in spirit. How were you supposed to take care of a magical beast you had never even seen before?

None of your books had ever mentioned anything about it and you weren't really studious either unless Orter was about to get better grades, in which case you absolutely had to surpass yourself and crush him completely.

A few hours had passed and you were almost falling asleep, studying how the egg was reacting to sounds and touch. You could feel something move underneath the shell but you couldn't exactly tell what was happening.

It seemed stable, at the very least, but focusing so much and taking notes was draining. However, a knock on your door took you out of your drowsiness. “Come in?”

As you wondered who it could be, you were surprised to see that dear Mr. Mádl had stopped sulking and actually showed up, much to your annoyance. He closed the door and stepped closer to the egg, not even paying attention to you at all, which irritated you slightly.

“What's all this?” You asked as you noticed him holding an uncomfortable amount of handwritten notes. He pushed his glasses back up and finally looked at you.

“I went to the library to research a bit on mandragora snakes.” He stated with his usual emotionless expression. “Unlike you, I can put in some effort.”

Oh, he was getting on your nerves so much after only two minutes spent in your room. It took all of your remaining energy not to kick him out immediately. But for Rivers’ sake, you decided to keep calm.

“Look. I get that you despise me, because in case it wasn't clear, I despise you too. But for the sake of this assignment, can we please quit being passive aggressive?” You sighed softly, trying to calm your bad mood down.

“I’m not the one to blame here.” He shrugged, crossing his arms as he gave you his signature condescending look. “You didn't even research anything about this species, you're not even doing anything right now, and I bet you've been doing nothing for the past hours as well.” 

You exhaled softly, feeling the small creature in the egg get a little agitated and trying to stay calm. “I took some notes on its reactions to sounds and such. I believe it can actually sense negative energy.” You handed him your notes and he raised an eyebrow. 

“Sounds like bullcrap. It didn't say any of this in the books I read.” 

You held your snarky remarks for yourself and shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the authors didn't think it was necessary. But it's clearly reacting. It also reacted when I sang to it.”

He chuckled, his expression unchanged, and you just knew he was about to say something rude, so you decided to talk before he did. “Anyway, it's good that you did some research.”

Orter raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Surely there had to be something snarky at the end of this sentence and that wasn't all.

“Because..?”

“Because I couldn't have done it while checking its reactions, so it's good.”

The room grew silent quickly and the snake within the egg started to calm down a little. Though Orter didn't seem convinced at all, and still thought you were bullshitting him with this whole reaction thing.

“I still don't see it. Why would you sense reactions and not me? Are you just special that way?” He asked in a mocking tone, and you were getting more frustrated by the second. 

“Just touch the egg right now.”

He did. Even without touching it, you could feel the magical beast getting agitated, but it seemed like he didn't. Not one bit. 

“There's nothing. You're full of crap, (Y/N). Just say you haven't done anything the whole time, I won't be surprised.” He mocked, but you decided not to bite back. You knew what you had felt earlier and you wouldn't take his criticism for that.

“Whatever you say, Orter. But you'll have to stop acting like that because whether you want to believe me or not, it is reacting.” You sighed softly, wanting to change topics. “So anyway, was there any advice on how to help it hatch correctly?”

He flipped through his notes with his eyebrows raised in contempt, as if you just couldn't do that without him (you couldn't, let's be realistic here) and he stopped on one of the pages.

“They need company, warmth and lightning. I suppose even you can provide that, correct?” He looked up from his notes and you didn't have to look back at him, you knew exactly what kind of expression he had right now. 

“I suppose I could.” You sigh softly, already fed up with his behaviour, and you felt the snake get agitated again. As if instinctively, you ran your hand against the shell. “It really doesn't like negative energy…” You muttered, not really towards anyone.

“I really think you're making things up here, otherwise it would've been mentioned in those books.” Orter said, putting his notes back against the bed where the egg was resting. You shrugged again, looking at it pensively, and for once, the snarky sandman didn't say anything.

“It's late… I’ll sleep for now.” You rub your face with your hands and sigh softly once more, then stand up and make your way to your bed. He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be moving an inch. It's almost like he's trying to catch up with the egg for some reason… 

“You could directly tell me to leave, you know?” He adjusts his neck tie as he stands up and turns towards you. You wanted to shoo him, send him flying or something, but you needed this mandragora snake to be healthy and you couldn't afford to do such a thing.

“I’m… tired, is all. Really tired. I wasn't kicking you out.” You muttered, sitting on your bed and looking up at him. Even when he isn't insulting you, he still finds ways to be insufferable.

“..right. I will be here tomorrow morning to ensure you won't be doing anything… dumb with this egg.” He cleared his throat and left without another word. What kind of jerk was he anyway? He'd been especially awful today and you had no idea why. 

Maybe tomorrow is going to be better?

You spent most of the night tossing and turning, occasionally glancing at the egg, and it felt like the beast inside of it was mimicking you. Since sleep was evading you, you made your way to the other bed and sat next to the egg, looking at it in exhaustion.

“What's going on in there..?”

As if it was going to reply, yeah. You rubbed your hands against your face and sighed, lazily grabbing Orter’s notes on mandragora snakes and flipping the pages until you found the hatching section.

As insufferable as he was, his notes were flawless and easy to understand. What a pleasant handwriting… you shook your head and kept reading through it until sunrise.

He kept his word and showed up early with a bag full of… something ? He sat on the extra bed close to the egg, and pulled some more cloth out of the bag, as well as cotton and other fluffy materials he placed around it.

“I went and got some more.. warmth for it, since you couldn't do it correctly on your own.” He scoffed, and you just chuckled, not even looking back at it.

“Ahah, thank you, that's really helpful.” You were way too tired to bite back and honestly, he was putting in effort when all you were doing was go with the flow and panic when something happens.

The sn- Rivers seemed pretty stable at the moment, which was surprising considering how agitated it gets whenever… oh.

“I think it likes you,” you looked at Orter, a little amused. “It's been agitated all night and now that you're here, it's just… calm.”

He pushes his glasses back with a neutral expression and looks at it for a bit. “Perhaps it likes me better.”

You groaned slightly at the idea. Even though Orter was the one bringing supplies for it, you were obviously the one caring for it! Making sure it's stable and safe! You stood up and stretched your arms.

“Maybe… since it likes you so much, I’m going to go and get coffee or something, I’m exhausted.” And as soon as you took a step out the door, he called for you.

“Wait, (Y/N), something is wrong, come back.”

You raised an eyebrow and when you stepped back in, you could feel the beast’s agitation, like it was panicking or something. You just sat back and touched it.

“What's happening?”

Nothing. Well, nothing anymore. It just calmed down immediately and went back to being stable. You looked at Orter in confusion and he returned that same look. What was going on with this beast?

“It’s merely a hypothesis, but…” Orter trailed off as he stepped outside of the room and… the beast was still pretty much stable. Sure, it was moving around a little but nothing too critical. 

“I think it likes me more.” You muttered, and heard him chuckle dryly and walk away. Did you upset him? That wasn't your intention at all, for once. Laying down and facing the beast, you wondered what was up with it. Why would anyone get such an assignment anyway? It was so much work!

The door opened again around twenty minutes later when Orter came back with a small bag. More supplies? Again? 

He reached for the inside and then handed you a cardboard cup. “Umm.. what's that?” You asked in a confused tone and he raised an eyebrow at you like you were the stupidest, silliest little thing he'd ever met.

“What do you think it is? It's coffee, you idiot.” Oh. Oh. Ohh. You grabbed the cup and looked up at him, a bit puzzled. This man really was unpredictable.

“You… got me coffee? But… why ?”

“You said you were exhausted, and apparently you can't leave Rivers for too long, so…” He crossed his arms, and you suddenly felt really weird. Was he being nice to you? It was so odd. Right now, you didn't want to rip his head off or throw him out the window.

“That's… thank you.” 

You couldn't say anything else, looking at him with the most disoriented look he'd ever seen before; there was no malice and no anger or frustration in your eyes, just… questions. 

“Don't get me wrong,” he sighed softly, “I’m only doing this because I don't want anything weird to happen to it.” He specified, looking straight at you. Could he just not ruin a moment like this?

“It wasn't completely stable when you were gone.” You said, looking at the egg and taking a sip of your coffee. “It's only stable when both of us are here.” You muttered while adding this to your notes, and he made no commentary. 

“It gets really agitated at night, even when I’m here.” 

Orter cups his chin with his fingers and looks at the egg pensively. “Then I suppose you weren't lying when you said you could… feel it.” He reluctantly admits. “Should I keep it at night and see how it goes?”

You know for sure it's going to be a problem if you try to move the egg, so what to do..?

“I think so… but we can't possibly move it so, I would suggest…” You trailed off, visibly looking for something to say afterwards as you really didn't have a clue what to do, but Orter finished your sentence.

“...for me to sleep in this bed, is that your idea? Really?”

You blinked once. Then twice. Was that your idea? Not really, but after thinking for a while, you would've eventually brought this possibility up.

“Yes, I mean- no. Or, ahh… I guess..? I don't know. I didn't really…”

He sighed loudly and looked down at you with something of a mocking glare, and it suddenly felt really embarrassing. What was embarrassing? The idea of having him sleep in the same room as you, or the fact that he was being so condescending about it and had you stuttering?

“So, you just gave me every possible answer in one sentence…” He mused and crouched to take a closer look at Rivers. “Well, I suppose I can do that. But don't expect me to be nice to you.”

“You don't have to tell me, you ass.” You muttered and his eyes narrowed as he turned towards you. 

“It's merely in case you forgot, since your brain looks a little… dysfunctional.” He taunted.

“Oh, you're taking care of my memory now? That's awfully nice of you, Orter.”

“Don't get too used to it, (Y/N).”

You chuckled as an answer and sighed softly, looking at the egg. “Can you hear that, Rivers? The audacity of that man.” You muttered, making sure he could hear you, and he gently pushed you aside to look at the egg.

“Don't listen to her, Rivers. Even you know I’m right.”

Did he just.. talk directly to it for the first time? And to say such a thing, too? You couldn't hold it in anymore and just burst out laughing, pointing your finger towards him, uncontrollably wheezing and giggling.

He looked very startled at first but then a little embarrassed. He slapped your hand away, pretending to be angry but he was just really flustered and had a very faint blush on his face. “Shut up… Hey, hey! Shut it now… Jeez.”

But you weren't exactly laughing at him. It was just very cute that he suddenly decided that it was fine to talk to this egg as long as it was to discredit you, and honestly, how could you not laugh?

Everytime he slapped your hand away, your finger came back to point at him, as if you were accusing him of something. It was really hard to stop laughing and it took you a good while to calm down, only to be greeted by Orter’s pouty expression, something you never thought you'd see.

“Ahh, I’m sorry Orter, I wasn't making fun of you. It was just really cute.” You said before realising what it implied, and it was your turn to be embarrassed. “I mean- cute as in, you know, you're talking to it now… and it's… you know.”

OHHH MY GOD STOP TALKING, SHUT UP! You internally yelled at yourself, and the way he sighed made it seem like he wasn't mad at you. Or was he? At least his flushed expression was gone, much to your disarray.

“Right…” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sighs once more. “I mean… I suppose you are right and Rivers can feel our emotions..”

“..’so let's try to be good parents’ is what you're about to say, isn't it?” You muse, slightly teasing him. “C’mon, say iiiiit.” 

“So let's try to… to…” He sighs and turns around, his hand on against his hip as he adjusts his glasses again. “...I’ll get some food, since you can't.” And with that, he immediately steps outside of your room, feeling like… like something. He doesn't know, and he hopes you don't either.

You chuckle to yourself, somehow thinking he's cute when he gets embarrassed. But you remind yourself that he despises you, and that you also despise him… or, well, not that much. Maybe despise wasn't the right word. You just weren't so sure anymore.

Orter, on the other hand, was trying to get this awfully embarrassing moment out of his mind as he walked to the Academy's shop to get some things. However… He didn't know what to buy. He then walked to the counter and looked into the store employee’s eyes very seriously.

“What kind of stuff do girls like to eat?”

He should thank the gods that you weren't there because the way he asked this with a completely straight face and flat voice would've put you to your grave. 

While he was at the shop, you were reading his notes and humming slightly to try and soothe the mandragora snake inside the egg. It was working, but it definitely wanted both of you to be here. 

You stopped on one of the pages as something caught your attention: “...mandragora snake eggs will drain a parent’s energy to grow, which is why the other parent usually hunts for the family and is in charge of making the nest more comfortable.”

With this, you almost spit out your coffee. Was this the reason why you were so tired yet restless? And also why it was panicking every time you weren't close to it? Putting more thought into it, you also realised something else.

Orter was the one who brought most of the cloth to keep it warm and he had also brought you sustenance so far. The two of you had taken these roles in very seriously without even knowing it. But since you were the one giving energy to it, perhaps…

You sat up and tried concentrating your mana into your hands before touching the soft shell, as if giving it a part of it… And much to your surprise, it seemed like something happened but you couldn't tell what exactly. 

After an hour or so, Orter came back to your room only to find you laying down in exhaustion next to the egg, completely drained for some reason. You eyed the bag he was carrying and he just put it next to you. 

“I didn't know what you wanted.”

What you wanted? Does that mean..? You sat up and looked inside of it; tons of snacks, candy, pastries and whatnot. You did need sugar right now, and so you immediately grabbed a pack of sweets and opened it.

“You are a lifesaver, Orter.” You sighed as you ate a few sweets, regaining your energy bit by bit. Pointing at the specific paragraph on his notes, you slightly tapped your finger against it.

“That's why I’m so tired, this little rascal has been taking all of my energy.” You muttered, sighing softly as you kept eating more and more sweets. He read the passage, holding his chin.

“And have you tried sending mana directly into the egg?” With your nod, he hummed. “I could try it too.” And so, he put both of his hands against it and tried sending some of his mana into the shell. Neither of you could tell if it worked.

You decided that you needed to take a shower and go to sleep, and as soon as you tried to stand up, your legs gave up from fatigue and you started collapsing, but Orter was quick enough to catch you. “Oh, crap. Are you alright?”

You groaned in frustration and nodded, even though you were completely incapable of standing up again; the sweets were apparently not enough to let you use your legs. 

“You've really outdone yourself, haven't you?” He chuckled, and you looked away. He was being awfully nice and you just didn't know how to respond to that type of behaviour, especially coming from him. 

He gently lifted you up and put you down on your bed. As embarrassing as it was, you couldn't really have managed otherwise. You were thanking him when your brain just shut down and you fell asleep quickly. He made sure to pull the covers up against you and he sat there for a bit, looking at you. 

It was clear he hadn't been very nice at the beginning, and he was now trying his best to atone for that fact. While you rested peacefully, he couldn't help but move some of your hair away from your face and place it gently behind your ear. 

From that moment, this is how most of your days went. You'd spend your day giving mana and energy to the egg and Orter would bring you some coffee, water and food, and whenever he was about to sleep, he'd give Rivers some mana as well.

After six days, the egg had grown quite a lot and you weren't sure what size the “little one” was going to be anymore. All you knew was that it was getting more and more tiring to keep feeding it with your energy. 

You were laying down, exhausted even though it wasn't that late, and Orter was reading a book on the chair next to your bed. No insults, no snarky remarks had been exchanged since last time, and he was rather helpful to you. 

After all, you were the one spending all of your energy on helping Rivers hatch correctly. Most of the time, he had to move you back to your bed because you'd fall asleep while giving it your mana. You could've sworn you felt him touch your face but you could've very well been dreaming… or were you?

The embarrassing question was stuck in your mind now and you couldn't stop thinking about it as you kept giving your mana to the egg. “Should be the last day, right?” You asked quietly, visibly really tired.

Orter closed his book and adjusted his glasses as he looked at you. “Yes. If it's healthy, then it should hatch tomorrow.” His eyes softened just a bit as he looked at you. “Why don't you call it a day? You sound exhausted.”

You sighed softly and moved to the edge of the bed to stand, and he immediately stood up to come and help you. It was… unexpected. You held onto him as if the two of you had never despised each other, ever, and he helped you get to your bed.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was really helpful. And since he had stopped being so condescending, it felt quite comforting to have someone sleep in the same room as you, not that you’d ever let him know about this detail. He was also really thoughtful and good at taking care of Rivers, so that was a plus… 

In fact, he was rather nice overall. He seemed to remember what your favourite snacks were, and also what kind of coffee you liked, all of this just from studying your expressions carefully as you consumed what he had brought. He really was thoughtful, and since you had started taking care of this mandragora snake egg together, he hadn’t been snarky or mean even once.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. When you started wondering why he was concerned with you when you felt his hand slightly squeeze yours. Oh. Ah. Ah. You had unwillingly grabbed his hand when you tried to stand up, and hadn’t let go since then. While you were overthinking, he was just looking at you in confusion because you just… wouldn’t let go of his hand.

“O-oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- uh… I was just-...” Ah, it was no use. Your face was slightly flushed with embarrassment and you were trying to stutter your way out of this situation, but no words seemed to come out. You looked up at him and noticed that he was ignoring you. He had grabbed his book again and crossed his legs, reading it while flipping the pages with his free hand.

When he noticed you were talking to him, he just raised both eyebrows, but the gesture did not change his neutral expression. “I don’t need it right now, I don’t mind you keeping it.” And with this, he immediately went back to his book, as if he really didn’t care. The truth was that he just could not look into your eyes right now.

Orter was trying his absolute hardest to conceal the very faint blush on his face while you actually didn’t let go of his hand. Was it because you just wanted to hold it? Or were you just too embarrassed to do anything about it? Or was it both? 

Even if you weren’t near it, you could feel some kind of weird vibration— or maybe just an emotion coming from the mandragora snake egg. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but it had started as soon as you had grabbed Orter’s hand. Was Rivers absorbing whatever emotion that was too? 

That was just too much thinking for you and you decided that the only reasonable course of action was to collapse in bed and stare at the ceiling. That being said, you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and it didn’t seem like you planned on doing it anytime soon because as soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep. 

He didn’t notice until he closed his book and saw you resting peacefully against the pillow while still holding it. He was about to pull his hand back and let you sleep, but it didn’t look like it was keeping you awake or anything, so he just decided to look at you for a bit, his thumb unconsciously rubbing your palm soothingly. 

Sitting on that chair was rather uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel like letting go of your hand, so he was going to bear it anyway until you’d let go by yourself. 

…which you didn’t do. You were just resting and holding his hand hostage the whole time. 

Approximately two hours after you had fallen asleep, Orter heard a weird noise, something indescribable. As his eyes searched the room for its source, his eyes widened slightly. He turned to you and squeezed your hand. “(Y/N), wake up, hey.” His free hand reached for your shoulder, slightly shaking it. 

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you groaned in frustration. But Orter’s expression looked amused and a little excited, which woke you up immediately. “What’s the matter?” you asked as he chuckled and pointed at the egg.

“It’s hatching!”

Holy shit. You immediately sat up and made your way to the opposite bed as you watched the small snake slowly get out through a hole it had pierced. It then slithered away from the shell and looked at you and Orter, as if it was confused. You couldn’t help but squeal at how cute it looked. It was just a little baby!

You extended a hand and it instinctively moved towards you, then rested in your hand. It was such a precious little creature, you were holding back your tears. “Oh my gods, oh my gods… What are we supposed to do now?” You asked frantically as if in a panic.

Orter immediately flipped through his notes and then reached for a small bag of supplies, taking out a small piece of mandragora root and feeding it to the small snake, watching it greedily bite against it like “chomp!” and swallowing the whole piece. 

“So, according to the notes I’ve taken, we can move him now and it doesn’t have to stay warm anymore. I’m assuming it’ll need to stay with us until its patterns start appearing. It also says it might sleep a lot.” He flips through the pages again to see if he hasn’t missed anything.

You thought for a bit. Maybe you could grab one of your scarves and put some cotton and such into it to make a… snake holder? This way you could walk around the academy with Rivers in your scarf and without worrying about it too much. 

You had literal stars in your eyes and Orter looked completely lost as soon as he laid eyes upon this beautiful expression of yours while you were holding the small snake.

There was still a whole week left to the assignment, and it felt to him that time was flying awfully fast.

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Card: Traits of Your F/S

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If your interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

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Pile 1

Your F/S might wear big clothes. I'm seeing dresses, baggy clothes, or just oversized things. I'm getting somewhat emo vibes or they might just like black clothing. They are great at keeping optimism and picking themselves back up after periods of grief. Your F/S might have a hard time connecting with others or has had a bit of a rough past in terms of relationships. They could be a bit of a rebel as well or just crave more freedom in their lives. Back to their looks, their clothes might stand out in some way. Something about them or their personality is bold, but they don't even mean to be. They might have a very simple look, but it's so different from those around them that it comes off as bold, because I'm picking up on a very quiet and even reserved energy from them so I don't think their looks are a very conscious choice on their part. Either way, I'm still seeing that they're confident in themselves and have a leader like potential.

Pile 2

Clumsy, and colorful. Might wear sweaters or hoodies a lot. Could have an affinity towards churches? Or maybe really likes historic buildings or museums. Likes to travel. Likes the ocean. They are independent and trust their own decisions. They might move homes a lot and don't like living in one area for too long. They might live or be from somewhere with a cold climate. They have a humble upbringing. Could have come from a broken home, divorced parents, low income, or even faced homelessness at some point, but I'm seeing that they're ready to move on from that or have already. All in all, they're a very talented person and they're ready to take their opportunities. They might be from a different country than you.

Pile 3

Clean, smooth, "Must be perfect." Maybe their a Virgo lmao. I'm seeing that they can be the type of person to put up a front. They appear as well put together, mature, clean, and may even be seen as a leader of sorts, but on the inside they're definitely struggling with something. They might be a really naive person, and find themselves often being taken advantage of by those around them. This could also be taken as they're a very emotional person and need to learn how to put up this courageous front so that they stop being taken advantage of. As far as physical appearance goes, I'm seeing someone who's blond, medium length hair. Might like wearing blues and greens, dresses or long shirts. They might like to accessorize themselves. They may also be the type to really dress up when they leave the house, but dress very casual or im hearing 'bummy' behind closed doors lol.

Pile 4

They like hanging out with friends or even partying and drinking. They love to travel. I'm seeing a very happy and positive person hear. Maybe they can be randomly contemplative or have big dreams which is something their friends find odd about them because they usually have a kind of careless and partying type of personality. On the flip side, I can also see this as being someone that does not like to party. Maybe they're surrounding friends have a careless, parting attitude towards life and they want to break free of that and work towards something they find important. They might not be very close with their friends or feel like they've never fit in with their friend group, and again, dream of going somewhere else or leaving to find their people. They might contemplate moving overseas, so they might either be a foreigner to you or maybe you both move to a new country together. For physical traits, they might have curly hair. I'm seeing a lot of the color red. That might be their favorite color, or a color they wear a lot. Maybe their hair is red. I'm also seeing that they might get dressed up often.

[eilorow]

Family Bond - Part 1

Tyler was a 19 year-old teenager who lived alone with his dad in their small home. His mother had passed away in an accident a few years ago, so he and his father stuck close together. They would usually play board games or look at science magazines, spending entire weekend afternoons with quality family time.

However, Tyler was not a happy boy. Standing at 5’7, and very skinny, he attracted the attention of his school’s football team, who enjoyed making his life a living nightmare. As a puny sophomore, there is nothing much he could do to prevent them. What added insult to the injury is the fact that, deep down, Tyler had always wished he could be one of them. He was longing for popularity and friendship, two things he was never able to obtain.

One day, Tyler was walking home after a rough session of bullying. The football team had pushed him inside his locker and locked him in, meaning he had to bang on the door until the janitor went and fetched a metal cutter to set him free from the lock. He was feeling even more down than usual, so when he passed by the local sports supplies store, he couldn’t help but feel sour. He kept thinking “why couldn’t that be me?” As he was about to go past it, he got an idea. He went inside and bought a football; he had never tried before, so how else would he know if he had some kind of potential? Feeling a little ashamed of his spontaneous purchase, he continued walking towards his home.

“Dad, I’m home!” Tyler yelled, while stepping through the front door. No answer; his dad must be out getting errands done. He slumped his way to his room and dumped his bag and football on the floor. He then sat on his bed and held his head in his hands. Still thinking about his day at school, he pouted at the ball next to him; it was a stupid idea to even buy it in the first place, but he might as well do something with it. He decided to take it outside and try it out; he put on a red t-shirt, black sweatpants and his white and red running shoes.

As he was walking towards the back door, his attention was suddenly driven towards the garage. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but he had a sudden urge to go there instead. In the back of the room, he saw his dad’s old workout furniture. There was a stationary bike and a bench with some free weights. Tyler had never wanted to use the weights, but felt like trying something new.

The teenager moved over to the bench, apprehensively, and dropped his football next to it. He then grabbed a couple of weights, got on his back, and started lifting. That was when he started growing. As he was bringing his arms up and down, they were getting slightly bigger, his biceps inflating until he had an easier time keeping the weights up, and his hands enlarging until he could comfortably wrap them around the dumbbells. His chest and pecs puffed up slightly as his shoulders started broadening, filling his once loose t-shirt until it fit him snugly. His back also broadened and stretched, making him grow from 5’7 to 5’9. Then, his legs bulked up slightly, tightening his sweatpants who lightened to a dark grey color.

After dropping the weights next to him, Tyler got up from the bench, not noticing his tighter clothes or increased height. As he headed towards the stationary bike, he grabbed his football from the floor. Once on the bike, he cranked the knob to make it a bit harder for himself. When he started pedaling, he went much faster than he normally would’ve. Then, as his legs were gaining speed, they started growing as well. His thighs and calves swelled bigger and bigger, until his sweatpants were tight enough to ride above his ankles, as they turned a medium shade of grey. His ass started plumping up, slightly raising his vantage point. His feet were twisting in his shoes, lengthening until they took up the whole space, hurting slightly from being constricted. His legs also stretched until he grew two extra inches, bringing him up to 5’11. Then, as if an old habit was coming back, he started throwing the ball up and catching it, while pedaling on the bike.

After stopping the bike and stepping off, the now fit young man went towards the bench again, still not noticing his changes, in spite of the fact he was slightly unbalanced due to his 4 new inches of height. However, after dropping his football next to it, he decided to do some push-ups instead. He walked a few steps over and positioned himself on the hard ground. He did one, two, three in a row, not even stopping to catch his breath in between each one, going up and down easier than ever before in his life. Suddenly, after a few more push-ups, he got a searing pain in his stomach, as if all his abs had cramped at once. He immediately dropped on the ground, writhing in pain all over, and started growing again. He felt as if he was being stretched from all over, groaning as all his muscles grew at the same time.

As the pain started to fade, Tyler felt his cock getting erect, pointing up its fully hard 4 inches. He propped his arms forwards, trying to stabilize himself into getting back up, but was distracted by the feeling of his neck thickening. He pushed out a deeper groan as his face started changing slowly, his nose and chin pushing forwards as his jaw hardened. His hair also lightened from dark brown to a lighter brown as his meager body hair receded back into his skin. He tried to get up again, only to watch his hands grow, his fingers stretching and thickening against the ground, his palms and knuckles broadening. The growth moved up to his forearms, biceps and shoulders, bulking and bulging until both sleeves ripped off of his t-shirt, leaving him in some kind of tank top exposing his muscly arms.

The exhausted and groaning Tyler finally managed to prop himself into a sitting position, only to feel a sharp pain mixed with pleasure coming from his crotch area. He looked down in bewilderment to see his dick poking out further, as it grew from 4 to 5 inches. He then felt a heaving at his chest as his shirt ripped to bloating pecs, broadening shoulders and an expanding torso. He looked down to see his abs chiseling, forming a bulky 6-pack above a muscly pelvis. He then put his buffed arms forwards again, using them to prop his legs up into a kind of push-up position, trying to stand up again. He was interrupted by the feeling of his legs growing again, looking between his arms to watch his thighs and calves bulking up into meaty legs while his ass was puffing out again, causing his pants to ride up to just under his knees, as they turned an even lighter shade of grey. He suddenly let out a moan, as he watched his dick start to grow again in girth and in length, reaching 6 inches, the pleasure causing him to buckle and fall on his knees. Feeling a sharp pain at his feet, he looked back to see them push out from the front of his shoes, until the soles eventually gave out. The destroyed shoes falling on the ground, he could see his white socks tightly stretched across his huge feet. He then felt another wave of pleasure, arching his back and moaning deeply as his dick grew girthier and longer, reaching 7 inches.

Out of breath, and finally feeling the transformation subside, he propped a leg up and stood up. He felt unsteady at first, thrown off due to him reaching 6’1 during his last growth spurt. Pre was leaking from his dick as he made his way back to the bench, wobbling slightly, only to fall forwards onto it, grabbing both sides to steady himself. As he was wincing in apprehension of the coming growth, a rich tan started spreading on his skin as his face changed again, his brows furrowing, forehead pushing forwards with his widening nose and hardening chin, his cheeks and jaw muscling up, his lips plumping up as his now blonde hair receded into his head, giving him a short buzz cut. As his neck started thickening, he pushed out a deepening groan as he started contorting. His hands grew and strengthened his grip on the bench, his arms bulked up, his torso stretched up and expanded, his back pumped up, his pecs and ass blew up, his thighs and calves bulged and stretched out, and his elongating feet arched upwards to support his new height. His pants rode up to his knees, became white and turned into some kind of stretchy material. Ultimately, he cried out a deep moan as his dick girthed up and stretched to an impressive 8 inches, making him cum on the spot.

Tyler remained there for a few seconds, his head down, a dumb, sweaty, panting, 6’3 buffed up jock in white stretchy pants that showed his muscly ass and thighs. After catching his breath for a bit and letting his dick soften up, the athlete lifted his head up, looking down below the bench, not noticing the new white and red wristbands he was wearing, and saw his football and a cap he recognized as his. He picked up the first and put the second on backwards, then leaned on the bench to cool down further. When he was done fully catching his breath, he got up and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

-----

Tyler is now a senior in college. At 21 years old, 6’3 and 240 pounds, the star player of the football team feared no intimidation or bullying. As for friends, he was the one choosing who to decline, as he was one of the most popular guys in school.

[objectheadzine]

WELCOME TO THE 10TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE OBJECT HEAD ZINE!

In celebration, the 2024's edition will be a Grab Bag - draw whatever object head you like (so long as it fits the guidelines, see below). In Lieu of a theme, all submissions MUST HAVE ASHLEY (the megaphone mascot) in the piece! Feel free to make him as large or as small as you want in the composition. He can be hanging out with your characters or he can be on a flyer, just so long he's somewhere in the picture! Reference of all his outfits can be found here. But don't feel like you're restricted to his previous outfits. Feel free to dress him up in anything you'd like. Content is also free for whatever! You want to date the lil man? Go for it! You want to tease or go on the attack? Also fine! Ignore him and let him live his life? Sure thing.

ALL submissions will be accepted as long as they fit guidelines and each person has a limit of up to 3 submissions. Submit your pieces to the zine email objectheadzine(@)hotmail(.)com along with the email/website/name you’d like to be credited as. (Feel free to omit emails if that is more comfortable). When you’ve finished your piece(s), you are allowed to post them to your blogs as long as you link back to the zine blog! This will be a DIGITAL ZINE ONLY and will be available free upon completion (donation optional).

The guidelines are as follow:

Illustration-quality works in either digital or traditional mediums. Both colour and b/w acceptable; background required. *BG can be as simple as a pattern or colour block! Avoid utilizing a camera to submit your images, please use a scanner. 

The default size will be 6″x9″, 300 dpi (1800px x 2700px) but feel free to go larger or smaller, so long as it follows those proportions. Please work in a vertical format.

For consistency’s sake, keep faces to a minimum (You can have eye(s) or you can have mouth(s) but don’t have both in a humanoid arrangement.)

Ashley, the megaphone head mascot, must be included in your piece. He can be small in the picture or a large factor but he must be included. When submitting, if he is not obvious, please point him out to me. References are found here.

Please go for original characters (or fanart of your friend’s characters) and not so much established object heads (e.g. the popcorn and soda heads from No More).

If you want to include humans, that’s fine as well but keep the ratio of people to object heads 1:1.

Content should be at most PG-13: Romance is fine but after-hours business should not be implied, Blood is fine but no gore. In the end, use your common sense.

Feel free to draw a comic or just an illustration! A comic counts as one submission.

Some facts about Ashley that could help with your piece: He's 5'2", he's of Chinese nationality, he's a TV show host, he's a bubbly, happy-go-lucky kind of guy and he has a Samyoed dog named Cotton!

Note that if a submission does not meet the above guidelines, I will either reject your submission or suggest improvements that would help your piece fulfill them. Please email me at objectheadzine(@)hotmail(.)com if you have any further questions and I’ll do my best to reply promptly. If you do not receive a message from me within a few days, please send it again. Final pieces submitted should be either in PNG or a one layer PSD file format.

Want to share your piece as you're working on them? Come on over to the Object Head Zine discord!

THE DUE DATE FOR SUBMISSIONS IS NOVEMBER 9TH.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

One of the more interesting aspects of Stayed Gone is the implication that, prior to his disappearance, Alastor must have been producing some quality programming.

Despite it's obvious importance in the modern world, TV apparently only started outcompeting radio in Hell after Alastor vanished. Seven whole years ago. And when Al returns, Vox's first response is to freak the fuck out about whether he's gonna keep his audience.

That's fucking crazy.

And we can be pretty sure that people weren't just listening in out of fear, either. Or because Alastor was making any major effort to crush all other forms of media.

If this was purely about which Overlord was the most powerful, then Vox's verses would surely have focused on emphasising his own strength. Instead, they're all about calling radio outdated. Vox is genuinely worried— apparently based on experience— that Alastor is going to outdo him in terms of sheer entertainment value.

Which raises the obvious question: what were Al's shows actually like? (Aside from those early broadcasts guest-starting the screams of the damned, obviously.)

We get kind of a taster in the song:

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air. Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast— Sinners, rejoice!— instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast. Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working? Every day, he's got a new format! Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vees! And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team! I said no, and now he's pissy, that's the tea!”

Obviously he's doing it to music, so there's going to be some difference in the cadence of his voice from that, but still, he's talking noticeably quicker than he does in person. And he gets right to the point.

Compare it to his commercial in episode 1. There's a big difference in terms of both how much respect he's showing his audience (“well hello there, you wayward sinner!” vs “good to be back on the air”), and how much relevant information he delivers.

Alastor is a great character to watch, but most people who interact with him directly seem to find the experience either annoying, awkward, terrifying or all three.

Mainly because Al seems to go out of his way to put people off even when he's actively trying to get them to trust him, by making condescending asides or constantly dropping references to his own power. On air, however, he greets everyone politely and even drops what is almost an apology for being gone so long (“I know it's been a while”), then immediately gets to the information that he knows they're really listening for.

Alastor may not respect Charlie, Adam or Lucifer, but he does respect his audience.

And the content he's producing makes it clear why people are still tuning in. Al has the gossip. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench may not be unbiased exactly, but they're clearly trying to provide sources for their claims and maintain some veneer of professional news reporting.

Al, meanwhile, is quite happy to provide strong opinions and baseless speculation about public figures, content that is less fitting with the professional image that Vox seems so desperate to keep up, but that is likely to attract a bigger audience.

What gets me curious now, however, is wondering what else he used to provide.

Again, radio was apparently the medium for news and entertainment in Hell until Alastor left. Implying that a) radio was at the time fulfilling many of the function that TV now provides, and b) Alastor was involved enough in this that it collapsed/got overthrown the moment he left town.

Did Alastor have an empire similar to the Vees? Did he run a bunch of channels? Did he have DJs and sports commentators and presenters on his payroll?

Given that radio seems to have collapsed completely after he left— did they all go running to Vox when he was presumed dead? Was the Vees new empire in part built on the ruins of Alastor's old one?

Or did he do the whole thing solo and just run like, a bunch of different shows. (In which case, since radio's bread and butter has always been music, Helluva Boss fans can now have fun imagining him interviewing Verosika Mayday about ‘Vacay to Bonetown’.)

[themattress]

Untitled Kairi Post

Y'know what? In a way, Kairi was tragically doomed as a character from the very beginning.

"Oh, because she was a love interest and damsel in distress!"

No. Myths, fairy tales and, well, Disney movies have used those tropes for ages, and if you're doing a story where a huge point is the influence of those things, it's kind of a given that the leading lady be a love interest and damsel in distress. And the writing is smart enough to put a twist on the trope given that Kairi's distress is much less than it appeared to be because she's Sora's love interest and he's her's, and after Sora saves her she saves him right back.

"Oh, because she wasn't a playable character or party member!"

No. It would have been nice to have the playable puzzle solving-based Kairi sequence they initially planned at Hollow Bastion, but I can understand why it was removed given how it would slow down the pace following what is perhaps the signature sequence of the game. And in any case it doesn't have any bearing on how things went for the rest of the series, given that Riku also was not a playable character or party member (he just had a crappy AI when pretending to help you fight Parasite Cage all so that he could kidnap Pinocchio).

"Oh, because she was stuck in a coma the whole game!"

NO! God damn it, how much must the game beat the point into your stupid head!?

And who could forget?

Stop laughing right now.

Kairi. Not just "her heart". KAIRI. Since the heart = the person.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, it exposes some serious sexism if one goes with the "Kairi was in a coma" line for KH1 and yet says "Ventus was inside of Sora" post BBS, since it's literally the exact same situation except that Kairi was always awake within Sora's heart as opposed to Ventus only waking up at the end of 3D. It's why Sora felt things regarding Hollow Bastion, why he experienced the memory of Kairi and her grandfather, and why he saw and heard Kairi multiple times. He wasn't hallucinating; that was always really her.

So, enough beating around the bush. What did I actually mean, then?

Well....let's start at the beginning.

Kairi's arc in the original Kingdom Hearts is not just told through the writing. Utilizing a video game as a visual/audible medium, it is also told through animation, voicework and music. During her introductory cutscene, we see Kairi asked by Sora if she remembers the world she was born in before being sent to Destiny Islands. "I told you before. I don't remember." She answers this sincerely. "Nothing at all?" Sora responds. That's when we see this detail.

"Nothing." Kairi is lying. She doesn't remember everything given the trauma caused by being forced out of her old home, but she does remember just enough to understand why it was traumatic. She had a comfortable life there, and a family. She was happy. And then it was all gone in an instant. Now, on Destiny Islands, she is similarly content ("Well, I'm happy here.") and fears risking that same loss. And yet a small part of her still yearns for the past. She loved what she can recall of her past, as she loves her present. She fears only the future.

Riku's fixation on his existential woes and the mysteries of the universe, while also putting her up on some sort of pedestal like she's something special, is not helping at all. Something about it feels wrong to Kairi...wrong and uncomfortably familiar. It's making her very anxious.

But Kairi has someone to lean on and help her keep up an optimistic, cheerful front, perhaps enough to talk herself into believing it: Sora. And during this scene, we hear the track "Kairi I":

This track reflects Kairi's character in this moment. While there is a subtle undercurrent of worry, her heart is strong enough to not let it get to her and look on the bright side as she looks out to the sun setting over the ocean. With Sora's reassurance, she is able to feel as though her home and friends won't change or go away no matter what happens on her, Sora and Riku's planned voyage, which allows her to feel anticipation for it. All finally feels right.

Of course, things were not right, and Kairi ended up in heart form as her body and soul were lost to darkness along with Destiny Islands. From Kairi's POV, she is now in the Station of Awakening (aka Dive to the Heart) and can do little but watch Sora's adventures as she can see them through his eyes, not fully putting it together why she can and where she truly is.

In the scene at Merlin's House, we get to hear "Kairi II".

While it's similar to "Kairi I", there is now a more somber and mysterious feel to it given the present circumstances. While she doesn't know if Sora can hear her, Kairi wistfully waxes nostalgic over how Merlin's House reminds her of the Secret Place on Destiny Islands. And while Kairi feels sad over missing that place, she's also happy that there are places like it elsewhere in the universe. She's clearly learning as much from Sora's journey as Sora is.

Finally, we hear "Kairi III" in the flashback with little Kairi and her grandmother.

And while it starts out reflecting Kairi's childhood innocence, it ends up turning...almost sad. The reason why being one of the most overlooked details of the scene: at the end of the grandmother's story, she disappears, and little Kairi is shown moving her head all around looking for her. This isn't actually part of the memory, but a reflection of Kairi's heart. She knows that she had a grandmother and that her grandmother isn't here anymore, but she can't remember how her grandmother "left". But she at least still exists...within her heart.

Speaking of which, once Kairi's heart returns to her body and Sora loses his heart in the process, Kairi puts her foot down. She may have learned how to better deal with and accept change and loss, but a line still has to be drawn somewhere and Sora is that line for her.

Thus is she able to save him. Later, we see her worry about the future and things changing again when she questions whether anything can be the same between her, Sora and Riku again after the corruption Riku had underwent. Once again, Sora boosts her optimism.

More importantly, he helps her learn, as he does, that even when separated you can take strength in keeping your loved ones (metaphorically) in your heart, and that even if things change and Kairi is cut off from the people and things she loves, they will always exist within her heart, just as with her grandmother and the story she told her about light and darkness.

This is why, in the end, Kairi is able to let Sora go and yet still feel content.

From "Hikari" (JP):

I'll stop doing pointless things like thinking about the future. Today I'll eat delicious things. The future is always before us, Even if I don't know it.

From "Simple and Clean" (EN):

 Regardless of warnings, the future doesn't scare me at all.  Nothing's like before.

This is a really good, really well done character arc.

It's also a very human character arc.

Yes, there are a lot of fantastical things going on, but when you put all of that aside, what are you left with? A young girl moves away from her old home and everything that she ever knew and loved, which gives her anxiety about the same thing happening with the new home and everything that she's come to know and love from it, which now includes a certain boy. She fears the future; she fears change. In the end, she ends up staying in her new home - but the boy moves away! However, through her time spent with him she's learned to accept this because he'll always be a part of her heart, which is something that won't ever change.

When put that way, it sounds positively mundane, and by and large the KH fandom - and Tetsuya Nomura himself for that matter - don't want or like mundane stuff like that. They want the crazy, the overdramatic, the angsty, the flashy, the anime tropeyness they're familiar with. This is why they were unreceptive to Kairi's arc to the fullest degree, as in many of them are literally unaware it even happened because they were too busy fixating on the archetypal Japanese media-style dick measuring contest between Sora and Riku (which is also far deeper than they tend to give it credit for, btw, but I digress). And if that's the case, then the question gets raised: why bother focusing on or expanding Kairi at all? She doesn't "sell".

THIS is why Kairi was doomed from the start. It's not her fault. But it's sadly the truth.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

( okay, I love playing resident evil 2 and 4 remake and enjoy the dynamic between Leon and Ada due to their complicated romantic history between them and thought of something)

Vil finally got a big break to be a hero, but he being a hero in a survival horror video game as main protagonist,what's more Crewle reader is there with him as acting as a partner as they both have to act and do some movement for the characters to function as the characters they are playing

And at the end product the video game became world wide as number one in best game and getting another contract to be the game protagonist again in the next game, how would Vil be even after the release of games he sees a lot of fanart of them together?

( and what is Neigen perspective when Vil get to act with Crewle reader in the video game after the release? )

I've never played or watched playthroughs of Resident Evil 2 But I guess the acting must have been really good 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Big Break w/ Crewel Daughter | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its natural for all sorts of media to crave the chance to capture your essence and beauty. So no doubt only the biggest studio with motion capture technology finds themselves reaching out to you, especially after Vil Schoenheit and Idia’s Shroud’s proud suggestion. But just as any medium you participate with a friend or acquaintance there’s an opportunity to make something deeper: 

Vil Schoenheit

“I’m so glad a improv’d that line.”

Totally feeds into it 

Giddy the whole time during filming and recording

So when the interviews come he loves using the opening to a flirty dialogue that prompts you naturally

“Why do you spoil them, so? I rather like seeing them gripe with what little content they create.”

“Ah but you often prefer that kind of starved creation, don’t you?”

“Oh Vil you know me too well.”

Neige Leblanche

Is fuming Is so happy for you, two

He’ll no doubt be playing the game

And cringing at your chemistry in game+

He wishes his image wasn’t so pure

He wishes there was a character more like him

“I wanted to congratulate you on you’re performance!”

“Thank you, Neige.”

“I hope we can work together in the future!”

“Perhaps.”

[juniperskye]

Until I Found You

***Potential spoilers of The Rookie***

Pairing: John Nolan x Fem Reader

Sneak Peek: After his breakup with Bailey, John is convinced he will never fall in love again…that is until he found you. (This is taking place pre TO Nolan) Reader owns a Café (food truck).

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2851

Warnings: Reader has kind of spooky vibes, no use of y/n, Implied age gap, mention of food and eating (no explicit details), brief mention of crime (no explicit details), mention of past relationships, mention of unhealthy relationships, mention of getting ready for a date (details are feminine leaning – shaving, makeup, nails, hairstyling), developing strong feelings quickly, one teeny tiny kiss.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

After his breakup with Bailey, John was convinced he wouldn’t find love again. How would it be fair for him to have had love with Sarah, Lucy, Jessica, Grace, Bailey and for him to expect it again. His love with each of those women differed from one another, but they all had played a very important role in his life. For the last few months John had really just been going through the motions; sleep, work, eat, repeat.

Today had been a particularly slow day on the job for John, very unusual for the LAPD. He had been riding alone today which was honestly making the day drag on even more so. He was counting down the minutes until lunch – at least then he would get to socialize with his fellow officers.

Two speeding tickets, one robbery and a stolen car later, it was finally time for lunch. Heading to their usual spot, John notices that there is a new food truck parked, black with orange script on the side spelling out “Hallowed Grounds” alongside little white painted bats. John’s eyes were drawn to this truck not because it is new, or that the line was at least fifteen people long, but because of the beautiful person running the window.

It was Lucy who had ultimately broken John out of the trance he was in.

“Hey, you okay? You were spaced out there for a second.” Lucy questioned.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay. What’s with the new truck?” John wanted to see how much Lucy knew without giving away the attraction he was feeling towards this stranger.

“Oh! It is all over social media, Hallowed Grounds, it is mostly coffee, but the pastries are to die for! I mean literally that is their slogan!” Lucy laughed.

“The line is pretty long, so it must be good. Should we check it out?”

“Sounds good to me!”

With that, John and Lucy made their way to the line. Lucy was talking John’s ear off about some new social media drama, but honestly John wasn’t listening, he was far too distracted by your beauty and the honey sweet tone of your voice. You had this way about you that was breathtaking, moving with grace and just so patient and kind to all the patrons who had been waiting in line. They were finally nearing the front of the line, and John had realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Hi there! What can I get for you?” You smiled at him.

“Hi, can I get a medium caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone?” Lucy ordered with no hesitation.

“Of course! And for you?” You looked expectantly at John.

“I um, can I just get a black coffee and, no that’s all.” John stuttered.

Lucy looked over at him confused as she paid, and they walked over to stand near the pickup window. John took note of you disappearing from the window and a young man taking your place.

“Okay, I know that we did not just stand in that long line just for you to order a black coffee. What is up with you?” Lucy questioned John. “OH MY GOD! You think she’s cute, don’t you?”

“Okay, hush! I’d rather not scare the girl off before I even get a chance to talk to her.”

“Okay sorry! I’m just happy for you. You’ve been sulking ever since you and Bailey broke things off.”

“I have not been sulking…okay maybe I have. But I really thought she was it for me.”

“John and Lucy?” You called.

They made their way up to the window to pick up their orders.

“Alright Lucy, a caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone, and for John a black coffee and a chocolate croissant.” I hope you guys have a wonderful day and stay safe!”

“Oh, I didn’t…” John started.

“Thank you so much, you have a wonderful day too!” Lucy cut John off and began to drag him away from the truck.

The two of them went to sit at a table with Tim, Aaron and Nyla for the rest of their lunch. They were all hoping it wouldn’t be cut short by a call coming in.

“Alright Nolan!” Aaron exclaimed as John sat down.

“What? What did I do?”

“The bag. The barista gave you her number!”

John turned the bag around and sure enough your name and phone number had been neatly printed along with a little heart. John looked at Tim, then Nyla and finally to Lucy. He hadn’t been expecting you to give him your number, especially not after he had made a complete fool of himself in front of you just moments before.

Just as Lucy was about to encourage him to text you, a call came ringing in over the radios. Everyone was quick to get up and head to their respective shops. John heard Tim and Lucy radio that they were responding, and that Nyla and Aaron were acting as backup. He figured they had it covered, and he would continue to patrol, but not before adding you into his contacts.

Three days.

It was three days before John had gathered the courage to text you. He hadn’t seen you either, since he’d worked through lunch one of the days, had a pretty big drug bust on the second day, and was assigned to the front desk on the third day. Today though, he had the day off and now was his time to text you and see if you would want to go on a date with him.

John: Hey, this is John. From the other day.

You: Hi! I was beginning to think that maybe I was too forward.

John: Oh, no, not at all! I’m sorry, things have just been really busy with work. I finally have a day off.

You: Okay, good! I’m sorry work has been keeping you busy. Hopefully you’ve been able to stay safe.

John: I have. Nothing too out of the ordinary this week. How have you been?

You: I’ve been good! I have been testing some new recipes and trying to figure out what to swap in for the fall season.

You: Speaking of which…would you like to be a taste tester for me? I could really use a customer’s perspective!

John: I would love to! By the way, that croissant was incredible. I was actually texting you to ask you to dinner.

You: Yeah, dinner and then we can go back to mine to try these desserts?

You: Wow that was also very forward…I’m not usually like this by the way!

John: No worries. I won’t read into it I promise. So tonight, can I pick you up at 7?

You: 7 is perfect, see you then John!

After confirming your plans with John, you kicked it into high gear. It was 10:07 a.m. and you had a lot to do before you’d be ready to go. You really needed to get your nails done, you needed to finish the 6 different pastries you’d been working on, and you’d really need to shower before you could get ready.

After doing some quick math in your head, you figured that you would have just enough time to get everything done provided you shower while some things were baking in the oven. With that, you place the pre-cut cookie dough into the freezer (these would be easy enough to pull out and bake later when you and John go back), you placed the muffins and two different loaves of bread in the oven. That just left the cake that you were actively frosting and the pie that was cooling. Once the cake was thoroughly iced, you threw the dishes in the dishwasher and headed towards the shower, not without checking your timer to make sure you’d have ample time.

You were sure to go through all the steps of what you’d consider a full shower, washing and conditioning your hair, washing your body with your best smelling body wash, and shaving essentially every inch of your body. You weren’t anticipating that anything would happen tonight, but you wanted to be prepared nonetheless and you’d make sure at the very least that you smelled good.

After drying off and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you made way for the kitchen just in time to pull out the muffins and the bread. You set them out on the cooling rack, turned the oven off and then you headed to your favorite nail salon. They were able to get you in right away seeing as it was 12:00 p.m. on a Thursday.

Your nail appointment ended at about 1:30 p.m., which gave you enough time to head over and check on your staff and the truck. Upon arrival you noticed there were a few police cruisers parked along the curb. You knew John was off today, but you still found yourself scanning the crowd for him.  

“He’s not here.” Your staff, Ezra, had called over to you.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You tried to hide your blush, embarrassed about getting caught looking for John. Ezra was the one who had encouraged you to give him your number in the first place, having seen how smitten you were with John when you’d met him the other day. Ezra and you had been friends for years, he could read you better than anyone.

“Mmhmm, sure thing. It was a different group this time around. What are you up to? Aren’t you supposed to be off testing new pastries?” Ezra questioned you.

“I was doing exactly that when John texted me and asked me out! I went and got my nails done and figured I would stop by and see how things were going before I went back home and got ready for my date.”

“OH MY GOD! See I told you that if you gave him your number, he’d ask you out. There were definite vibes the other day, he was so enamored by you that he forgot to look at the menu!” Ezra gushed.

“Okay, fine. You were right. I’m kind of nervous, he’s taking me to dinner, then we’re going back to my place so he can taste the new desserts and give me his opinions on them.”

“Girl, you are going to be fine! He seems nice and you are an amazing person, no reason to be nervous. Plus, what have you got to lose?” Ezra had always been your voice of reason in times of need.

“Okay, yeah. I should probably get going then so I can get ready.”

“Okay babe, have a great night! OH and you should wear the outfit you wore to our opening party, it screams you and its hot!”

“Oh, that was a good outfit, I don’t know where he’s taking me yet, but it should be dressy enough.”

You said your goodbyes to Ezra and made your way back home. It was nearing 3:30 p.m. and you knew you should probably start getting ready. You grabbed a glass of water and then got to styling your hair. You curled your hair and applied some natural looking makeup and went to get dressed. To pair with the faux leather skirt and starry mesh top, you slid on some black tights, comfy socks and your Doc Martens. Looking over at your alarm clock you see 6:45p.m. glowing red and you decide to switch to a smaller purse in the time you have left before your date…your usual everyday tote bag not exactly matching this outfit choice. You’d opted for a small leather handbag, with gold accents, it matched your outfit perfectly and was better suited for the occasion. As soon as you organized everything into the purse a knock sounded at the door. You took a deep breath then walked to answer it.

“Hi!” You greeted John as you opened the door.

“Wow, you look incredible.” John was awestruck, you had such a different style than the women he had previously dated, but he was really loving it. You were so confident in your own skin, and you just had this glow about you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome.”

“Shall we?” John gestured to his truck.

You nodded and the two of you walked around to the passenger side. John opened the door for you then offered his hand to assist you into the truck.

“Such a gentleman.”

John blushed at the compliment, he tried to shake it off as he started the truck and pulled out of your driveway. You made small talk on your way to the restaurant, which ended up being a very nice steakhouse.

John parked and looked over to you, he made note of the way you were inspecting the sign, and immediately panicked.

“I probably should have asked and made sure you weren’t a vegetarian!”

“I’m not! I love a good steak; my dad is a self-proclaimed grill master!” You laughed.

John laughed with you and let out a sigh of relief. He once again opened your door for you and reached to help you out of the truck. He was so different form the men you had dated before, so polite and caring. He listened to what you had to say and even asked you questions to learn more about you. It was so refreshing to be around someone like him. Truth is, you had dated some pretty terrible people in the past and that was the main reason you were single now. You’d decided to take a break from dating and focus on yourself and your career, which is how you’d gotten to the point of owning a very successful food truck. You had explained to John that your end goal is to have a brick-and-mortar location of Hallowed Grounds that was a café/bookstore. You wanted to create a cozy space for people to hangout while they enjoyed good food.

John just sat and smiled, he loved how you lit up when you spoke about it. Seeing you so passionate about something was honestly inspiring. He hadn’t expected the feelings for you to be so immediate, so strong, just crashing to the surface as the night went on. John could feel himself growing concerned about whether or not you were feeling as strongly for him as he was for you. The two of you had just clicked and it was so effortless.

What John didn’t know is you were currently battling the same demons. Was it really possible to be this comfortable with someone after such a short time?

Dinner had passed far too quickly for either of your likings, you were honestly just glad that you had already planned to continue this evening. You weren’t ready to say goodnight to John just yet. As John drove you back to your place, he took a risk by reaching for your hand to hold, you were quick to slide your hand into his and you couldn’t help but blush. John couldn’t believe how soft your hand was and it made him think about how rough his must be from his years as a contractor, he shook the thought away as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

You made it back to your place relatively quickly and John once again made sure to assist you on the passenger side, only this time instead of offering you his hand, he was a little bolder. He’d placed his hands on your waist and slowly helped you out of the truck. You stood there, chest to chest, your breath hitching from the proximity. Your gazes danced over one another’s face, shifting from eyes to lips back to eyes, silently asking for permission. When you slightly tilted your head, John understood and reached his right hand up to cup your jaw as he brought you in for a kiss. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever but ended far too soon. You wanted to exist in this moment infinitely.

You and John held hands once again as you staggered to the door. You made quick work of the lock and invited him in, guiding him to the kitchen.

“You ready to try some desserts?” You asked.

“Absolutely!” John replied.

You blushed, realizing the double entendre and moved to get all the desserts plated up. You explained to John that you’d need to throw the cookies in the oven, but they only took about 10 minutes to cook. He nodded and asked if you needed any help with anything, which you declined and encouraged him to relax.

John watched as you worked in the kitchen, this had been your element and it was like a well-choreographed dance, the way you moved. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, picturing the two of you like this, years down the road. He knew that you had only just met, but after tonight he couldn’t deny the connection. He realized he had been wrong when he said he would never fall in love again. That was true, until he met you.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

Not Like Us

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Request:

Helloo! Could I maybe request a fic where charles is dating a reader who is like medium sized and the fans are like being really mean to her and she overhears comments in the paddock about how he could get with any model etc and he notices she's starting to eat less and he's worried abt her etc . also, I really love your work!

Summary: The development of an eating disorder after you realize Charles wants something you aren’t.

Warnings: TW!!!! EATING DISORDER! Angst, fatphobia, language.

Word Count: 3927

Authors note: I really hope I have done this request justice <3 This is always such a delicate subject and I need anyone and everyone to know, if you even think you could be going down this road, please seek help! Your body needs to be strong and healthy and that is all that matters. It does not matter what you look like, it will never matter what you look like, you just need to be healthy, whatever that could possibly look like for you in your each and individual circumstance! And Mental health is one of the biggest factors of that!! Your value and worth will never ever ever be linked to your weight or how you look. If this is where you are currently, where you are headed or you know someone in this situation, pleas be kind, please be gentle and please please please get help my sweets <3 There is also nothing wrong with slimmer people either! Every body type is different and healthy in their own ways, so please just, the point is to love and respect yourself always because then you do the same for others <3 I hope you enjoy this.

_____

“You know you deserve better Charles, come on, stop playing this stupid little game, she isn’t like us, god, the least she could do is lose some weight to stop embarrassing you so much”

It must have looked so odd, you flat against the side of the motorhome, seemingly eavesdropping on the conversation that was happening behind it, a sinister undertone to it all, and you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, normally trusting Charles completely, except, this time, the girl with him was absolutely sinister. This was Katie and she had wanted Charles for longer than you’d even known him, and she was exactly what you’d expect a woman dating one of the world most eligible bachelors would be, beautiful, rich, one of those go getters, you know the kind, the one’s more than happy to step over whoever they needed in order to get what she wanted, and most relevant to this exact conversation, she was so terrifyingly skinny. The kind of skinny you always told yourself you didn’t admire, that you would never do that to yourself because who would ever want to give up everything good just to look like that?

But the deeper, darker truth was, that you did, that you would. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you so desperately wished you could look like her and that you could have her self-discipline. But you didn’t, and so you just, were so much bigger than she was.

You’d never ever thought of yourself as that much bigger than girls like her, you knew you were bigger, but God, not that much? You were what you’d considered a normal, healthy woman? Maybe you were just wrong. Maybe you had an over inflated ego? Maybe she was wrong? Maybe she was just insecure?

“I know”

Did, did Charles just agree with her?

You couldn’t stand there anymore, you had to go. You felt the heat from the embarrassment creep up your neck and onto your face. It was hot, too hot, you had to go.

He agreed.

You moved through the paddock quickly, head ducked low, thankful that this was Charles’ home race, thankful you had your home to run to in order to escape the embarrassment. No. This wasn’t embarrassment, this was, devastation. This was your heart being ripped out of your chest by your boyfriend. The man you loved, who you adored, the man you thought adored you. He had told you enough times that he had. Was he just lying? Had he been lying to you the entire time?

Your throat suddenly felt tight, the lump forming too quickly, tears threatening to start spilling. God why were there so many people here. You ignored everyone as you near ran out of the paddock. Fumbling with your pass as your hands shook.

He agreed.

As you managed to make it onto the streets you knew too well, the streets of your home, making your way mindlessly towards your flat, your mind wandered back to the conversation between Charles and the woman you now knew you hated. She had called you fat, she had called you different, he had called you an embarrassment and he had agreed. You could almost picture his face as she said those words, twisting in disgusting, and then you pictured hers, a smirk as she heard him agree with her, and this replayed over and over again, all the way to your flat, and you willed yourself not to cry.

You had just made it inside your flat before you couldn’t hold it in anymore, you slammed the door shut and had your forehead pressed to the cool wood and the floodgates had opened. You wept. Every fear you didn’t even realize you had come true in a two-sentence conversation you happened to overhear.

HE FUCKING AGREED WITH HER!

You weren’t even sure who you were angry with? Him? Maybe, for agreeing with that woman, the woman he knows wants him all to herself or maybe her? How dare she fucking say that about you, to your boyfriend no less? And he didn’t even defend you?

Or with yourself, because here, all alone, maybe you could admit that they were right.

_____

Katie had caught Charles by surprise, dragging him behind the motorhome before he could even begin to struggle against her, not that it would have been all that much of a struggle, considering she weighed about nothing. Charles didn’t mean to judge her, it was a sense a pride for him that he never thought badly about people no matter what they weighed from an aesthetics point, but her, God, she was so unnaturally skinny, and he had no idea how she even survived day to day? How did she hold her own? Charles never thought he had a type, but lord knows he now knew he loved strong women, women with some meat on their bones, women who he knew could take care of themselves and that were healthy, women like his girlfriend.

In the time Charles had all of these thoughts run through his head, Katie had begun talking to him, and by the time he paid attention he had only caught the tail end of her self-righteous monologue.  

“You know you deserve better Charles, come on, stop playing this stupid little game, she isn’t like us, god, the least she could do is lose some weight to stop embarrassing you so much”

“I know”

He hated the smug look that had crept up onto her face and he couldn’t wait to see it be wiped off in just a moment.

“So then, please explain why you are still with her”She looked like she had won some sort of prize, and Charles hated her for it. He hated that she looked down on you because you weighed more than her, despite the fact that he knew that she wasn’t healthy, he knew from some of his other friends the lengths Katie had gone in order to stay this skinny, and he knew this was definitely an eating disorder.

He hated how she looked down at you and he pitied her for how she hated herself.

“Because you’re right, she isn’t like you and that is the exact reason I love her. She is one of the most phenomenal women I have ever had the privilege of meeting and I will fight tooth and nail to keep her in my life Katie. Jesus, you are so focused on what people fucking look like and it is fucking pathetic at this point. And for the record, Y/n, she is strong and healthy and loves herself and lord knows when she has my children, God willing, she is going to teach my children to love themselves relentlessly and I just can’t believe I am trying to justify my girlfriends looks to you at the moment. I’m done Katie, stay away from me, stay away from Y/n, and please, genuinely, as someone who just cares, please get help, because you’ve lost too much” Charles felt the heat from his rage creep up onto his face as he stormed away from Katie, ignoring her protests and the insults she flung at him, wanting nothing more than to find you and worship every single inch of your body, not caring that he was technically at work, but he needed to ground himself and if that involved the two of you hiding in an abandoned office as he did so, well, he will take what he can get.

He looked for ages before he finally opted to try and phone you, the call being declined almost instantly and a message coming through not long after that.

“Felt sick, went home, good luck for the race” It was all he had gotten from you. He had tried two more times, each being declined as the worry grew in his chest, messaging you that he loved you and hoped you felt better soon, and he’d come by after the race.

There was no reply.

_____

It had been one year since that day, and you were quite literally a different person by this point. You hated to admit it, but you had thrived off of the new comments about your body, ignoring the more concerned ones that littered through the comments on social media, focusing only on those built you up.

“Oh my god look how good she’s looking”

“Charles must be so much happier now that she’s lost all that weight”

“Well done girlie!!!!! You look so much better with all that weight off”

It was comments like that that had made it all absolutely worth it, and Lord knows it had been difficult. Gym twice a day, minimum and majorly restricted eating was tough, but you had done it. You’d finally fit into clothing all those other girls could and you felt so much better looking in the mirror, although, you knew you had a few more kilos to lose, this was an amazing start, and the look on katies face made it even better, because now suddenly you were equals, equally as pretty, equally as disciplined and now equally as skinny, actually, you think you might be even smaller than her now.

What was truly great though, the thing that really made all of this worth it, was whenever Charles would look at you, whenever you got undressed in front him, which you were doing more and more frequently the more and more you lost, his eyes would rake over your figure, his fingers would drag along your skin, you loved the feeling of when he tapped against the bones in your hips, the sound of skin against bone and you knew he loved it.

You weren’t an embarrassment anymore.

You knew he now fully loved you.

And so, you promised yourself you wouldn’t stop, not yet, you needed to be smaller, because if you were smaller, then you weren’t an embarrassment and if you weren’t an embarrassment then Charles would love you.

You would love you.

_____

“Lunch” Lorenzo plopped down next to you, placing the salad in front of you, his own pasta dish in front of him, shoving Arthurs across the table. The two boys immediately tucked into their lunch with their eyes avoiding you while you sat, pushing a strawberry around as you gathered up the courage to eat.

You had already had your allotted calories for the day, Charles insisting on foods that you’d hadn’t had in months for breakfast, and you had felt sick since then. You’d resigned yourself to not eating this salad. Lorenzo and Arthur wouldn’t question you, they were happy that you’d lost the weight too, they were happy for Charles, they were happy for you. They wanted you to lose more. They would understand. They would encourage it.

Yes. Okay, it was decided. You weren’t eating lunch. If you were remembering correctly, you were allowed to have something small this evening and then you wouldn’t be eating until tomorrow afternoon again.

No salad now.

“You not eating?” Arthur asked through a mouth full of food, glancing between you, the salad and Lorenzo.

“Oh no, I ate this morning” you shot him a smile, they’d understand. They’d encourage it.

“Yeah, that’s breakfast, this is lunch?” Lorenzo shot Arthur a look as you laughed, although it sounded more forced than the natural laugh they were used to hearing. Both Charles and Lorenzo had spoken to him about this, nearly trained him on how to talk to you about food and eating, knowing they had to do this delicately lest they do any more damage than had already been done.

“I’ll eat later, don’t worry little Leclerc, I’m gonna go to the bathroom” you kissed Arthur on the head as you made your way around the table and they watched you, like a hawk as you left, neither forgetting the day you had stumbled because you were so dizzy. You put it down to getting up to quickly. They knew it was because you hadn’t eaten in nearly 2 days.

“What the fuck was that?” Lorenzo whispered towards Arthur, ready to climb into his little brother who sat before him, mouth full and eyes wide.

“Isn’t she getting better?” Arthur genuinely thought he had heard Lorenzo and Charles discussion how you had gotten better, he truly thought it was a harmless comment.

“No, we were talking about how she ISN’T getting better, and we may need to get her admitted so she CAN get better you tit!” Lorenzo hated having to deal with this situation, hated constantly having to keep his eye on you and your eating habits and report back to Charles, but he didn’t hate it because it was a burden, he hated it because the situation had gotten this bad at all. The entire family had grown to love you, God, you were family at this point, both Arthur and Lorenzo having sat for hours with Charles going through ring options for the one he was going to eventually propose to you with, but that had all been put on hold as the fear of losing you before that could even happen had gripped the entire family, and if it had a hold on all of them, it had a vice grip on Charles.

“I’ve got to go chat with Charles, just, stay here with her, don’t talk about food or weight or just, talk about, the race, that’s it, that’s all you’re allowed to talk about, the race, I’ll come get you two when I’m done” Arthur nodded as Lorenzo got up and left him there waiting for you.

Arthur hated that this is what your relationship had become with him, planned conversation because you hadn’t even realised you’d gotten so sick, you two used to have so much fun, your inside jokes had even disappeared, your sickness overshadowed everything, and he felt bad for being angry with you about that. He knew you were sick, he had it explained to him enough times to get it, but he was still angry. He was angry that he couldn’t just be himself with you anymore. He was angry that every single little thing had to be planned just because you might get worse. He hated that this had driven his brother into a hole of anxiety at the fear that he might lose you, not because you broke up or anything but because you were withering away to nothing.

He hated that you were willingly killing yourself. Did they not make you happy? Did they not make you feel loved? Were they not enough to stick around for?

_____

“Didn’t touch her salad, said she’d-“ Lorenzo stopped as soon as his eyes landed on Pierre in Charles drivers’ room.

“He knows, it’s okay” Charles urged his brother on, desperately hoping that they had managed to get you to eat today, because if they hadn’t, the Charles was going to make the executive decision to get a psychologist to admit you.

“Kind of hard to miss” Pierre didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but everyone knew what was going on, well, everyone but you it seemed. He was thankful Charles had spoken to him about it first, because if he didn’t, Pierre was going to have to start the awkward conversation with his best friend about the fact that the woman he loved was killing herself, and now that Charles had looped him in on what was going on, it meant there was more he could do to help.

“She didn’t touch her lunch?” Charles had pushed off the wall he was previously leaning on, making his was to the centre of the room to have this discussion with his brother.

“She said she’d eat supper, said she’d eaten breakfast, didn’t want to push her” Lorenzo could feel the fear radiating off of his brother as silence settled between the three men in the driver’s room, both Lorenzo and Pierre waiting for Charles to decide what he was going to do from here on, both knowing that he’d given the deadline till today before he got professionals involved.

What they didn’t expect was the reaction that Charles had given.

The silence was shattered as Charles threw what they could only assume was his phone against the wall, and then there he stood, mouth wide, a scream ripping through the room, face red and a ragged breath was all that followed after a few moments.

The entire garage had gone silent, Lorenzo popping his head out the door just to reassure everyone that Charles was okay. Pierre’s head dropping, staring at the floor, making sure he stayed to help Charles, but making sure he still gave him his privacy.

“I’ll call the psychologist tomorrow” it was all he could get out.

What else was there to say? They had tried. He had tried, but he couldn’t stand there and watch you waste away anymore and clearly what he was doing just wasn’t enough.  

“I’ll talk to her tonight, and I’ll call the psychologist tomorrow” he wasn’t sure who he was telling this plan to, Pierre and Lorenzo or himself.

“It’s for the best” Pierre tried to reassure his friend, oddly grateful that you’d actually be getting the help you need. Finally.

“I know” Why did Charles feel so scared then? Why was he dreading this so much?

_____

“What do you want for supper” Charles was throwing out a hail Mary, praying that you would give him something.

“Oh, I ate a big lunch, don’t stress about me my love, want me to make you something though?” you wished you had felt bad about lying to him, but it had gotten so easy. You had justified it that you didn’t want to bother him with all of this, he could just reap the rewards of it.

“You didn’t though” this was it. He was going to talk to you about this. It was now or never.

“Of course I did baby-“

“Lorenzo told me you didn’t” were you seriously just lying to him?

“Why do you sound upset?” Charles could do nothing other than stare at you, wide eyed.

“Why do I sound upset? WHY DO I SOUND UPSET? MY GIRLFRIEND! THE WOMAN I PLAN ON MARRYING IS STARVING HERSELF TO DEATH” he knew shouting wasn’t the right thing to do, but he had already exhausted every other option,

“I’m calling a psychologist tomorrow” just rip the band aid off.

“What do you mean you’re calling the psychologist tomorrow?” he couldn’t do this to you. Everything you had worked so hard for. He couldn’t do this when this is what he wanted.

“You need help Y/n, you need help and I have tried everything, and it is not working, I don’t know what else to do” he couldn’t look you in the eye, not with how betrayed you looked, “I can’t lose you”.

“Charles! This is what you wanted!” how had he suddenly just changed his mind? How had he just dismissed all the work you had done?

“What I wanted? What the fuck have I done to make you think I could have ever wanted this? I am here, worried out of my mind that you are going to die because you have lost so much weight and you think this is what I wanted? You are the woman I love, you were strong, you were healthy, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen AND YOU HAVE BEEN KILLING YOURSELF!” what had he done, how had he fucked up this badly, “What did I do to ever make you feel less, how do I fix this, please, fuck, I need to fix this!”

“Katie”

“What the fuck does Katie have to do with this? She’s been out of our lives for the last year?”

“Yeah, about a year ago, I heard you two talking, and she said I was embarrassing you and you deserved better, and I wasn’t one of you guys and I was fat and then you said ‘I know’” the memory was still so vivid, for both of you.

“How long did you stick around for that conversation?” Shit, this might have been his fault.

“I left as soon as I heard you say you agreed with her” you had to sit down, a combination of not eating and the stress of this conversation getting too much for you.

“Okay, so you completely missed me telling her that I know that you’re different from her and that’s why I love you and think you’re beautiful? You missed me telling her to fuck off and stay the hell away from me and you? You missed all of that, chose not to talk to me about it and then decide to literally kill yourself via starvation?” he watched as the realization dawned on you, he watched your face drop, and he thought he would feel better once you had finally gotten it, but he didn’t he still felt sick, he was still scared, “I just want you back.”

“Charles, please, I didn’t realize, I’m sorry” you weren’t sure if you were sorry though, you liked how this all had made you feel and you knew he knew it too.

“Okay, then I’m calling the psychologist tomorrow and you’ll get help”

“Charles-“

“No, that’s the only option here” he was going to throw up, “I can’t sit here and watch you wither away”

“What do you mean?” you felt bile rise up into your throat, surely he couldn’t be insinuating,

“You either are going to go and get help or I have to leave” This isn’t how he wanted things to go, this was cruel, and he knew it, but if this is what it took, then he’ll be the bad guy, he would happily be the bad guy, you could hate him till he died for all he cared, all that mattered was that you got better.

The silence went on for too long, he was so sure you would choose him, but suddenly that confidence started to waver, the longer you sat staring at the table, the less he was sure you would choose him.

“I’m scared” you whispered out.

“You aren’t going to be doing this alone, I’m here, and as long as you’re fighting, so am I, please, my love, please, I can’t watch you do this to yourself, not anymore” Charles was one more ‘please’ away from getting on his knees and begging.

“Call them” he let out a breath was didn’t even know he was holding, making his way to you, needing to hold you, thanking every god out there that he hadn’t lost you just yet.

“Thank you, thank you baby, I love you” and for the first time he let himself cry, the relief and fear both coursing through him and this was the outlet, he knew you were still there, the you he had fallen in love with, the confident you, the you he knew that loved yourself, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as you both stayed silent, the evident battle ahead of you becoming more and more real the longer you sat there, but before you both started on that journey you sat there, in silence, thankful for the love that existed in this space, the love that was brave enough to do whatever it took to make sure you got better.

“Thank you for still loving you”

_____

Taglist:

ricsaigaslec

amulhermaisfelizdomundo

miniminescapist

0-atmilk-latte

d0ntjudgemy50shades

[sylenth-l]

Im sure you answered this question but I cant find it on the ask tab as theres a lot.

What kind of ink do you use or recommend as a starter?

I use a lot of different inks and have no specific brand recommendations, only that all of them are fountain pen inks. Maybe only for waterproof inks - I use Tramol inks for linework all the time, and I'm quite happy with them. It's not easy to find nice waterproof inks and in a wide range of colors too.

(Also I got a similar question just now too, so here's a link to that post as well)

If you just wanna try out inks as a medium and see some of its unique qualities, I think I can safely recommend one of these 4, whatever colour seems more appealing to you. All of them are very well-behaved, easy to get, have some great chromatography and reaction to bleach. The ornament on top is done with a bleach (any household liquid bleach will do) and the paper here is Baohong S8 grain satin.

If I had to pick a personal favorite, that would be Parker Quink Black hands down, it's my favorite ink of all time. I use it absolutely always, either in mixes or on its own.

BUT I must warn you, because I barely see it mentioned anywhere - Quink Black also has a washable version. It's written on the packaging with a small font. Washable Black is also a gorgeous color, but it's significantly lighter and warmer than the regular Quink Black, almost olive in tone.

And the regular ink also seems to have some little variation in colour - this is my second bottle of Quink Black, and the first one, which I bought a few years ago, is a bit bluer and has a little less chromatography. The difference isn't too drastic, but still noticeable. 

Inks are also extremely sensitive to the paper used, much more than the watercolour or other similar mediums. Paper can change the ink's tone and behavior quite drastically. Here's an example of the very same ink swatched on 4 different papers:

So my suggestion is to test whatever paper you have in your possession to see what works the best for you. 

I'm so cheering for you to play with some inks, it's fun even if you don't draw anything in particular. Just wet the paper, add a few drops of ink on it and see the magic happen!

[nightgoodomens]

I am very sorry but this was in the back of my mind and i just have to say it. It'll never be not funny to me how he talked about egg and chips with more passion than the mother of his children💀 (let alone David who clearly has his own place, the difference is so sky high it's unfair to compare.)

It's really disappointing how some decide to neglect and deny themselves the joy, from one of the most loving relationships out there just for the reason that it doesn't fit into society's norm boxes. Instead they drag the standards embarrassingly low, because they refuse to let go of the perfect image they crafted out of thin air or any modicum of truth.

Sometimes it makes me scarred to live in a society where "goals" for a healthy, happy relationship is reduced to diplomatic answers, we didn't want this but you meet who you meet ( uncanny resemblance to another couple iirc), unhappy content due to cameras being pushed into your face or tasteless insults in a medium you know they can't (or won't,due to dignity) get back at you. How can you say "love" when the man went out of his way to say "because of how we felt about each other" instead of simply saying now we love each other.

I think when he talked about that arrangement it was the only time there was no light in his eyes… With David he was shining, other questions you could see he was having fun too.

We know this fandom was in much denial for a while, but we have reached the point where they even pretend things aren’t there (Neil saying David and Michael are in love) yet saying they can see Michael and Anna are in love (a word Michael refuses to use for her yet easily gives to David, multiple times). They have created their own fantasy. And it’s extra funny because “shippers” are the bad guys basing their views on actual things that are said and the body language etc, whereas “real fans” now actually need to ignore things and put words in Michael’s mouth to keep their fantasy going. They don’t see how weird it is that AL is spending her day on social media looking for validation from strangers either. They don’t see how depressed David is looking and how GT is giving them break up songs. They don’t see DT growing more and more annoyed with GT acting more and more like a paparazzi. They don’t see GT blatantly undermining David’s accomplishments, or insulting him. They don’t see Michael looking sad in the selfies with just AL. They don’t see that it’s a different world if you switch to MS/DT instead. They ignore that it was said that the men are boyfriends. They ignore that Neil told them the men are still in love. They have an excuse for everything. Yet we are the ones making stuff up?

I do think there is some sort of irony in Michael and David starting their relationships with women in a very similar way. And I wonder if this is why David dislikes Anna so much, because seeing this shit playing out in front of him, with someone he deeply cares about, must sting.

Sometimes when I watch this fandom and their choice to use denial so bluntly… it kind of puts in perspective why so many people are in unhappy relationships and why so many people have relationships/marriages falling apart… A lot of people struggle with seeing what’s right in front of them. A bit extra, but you know how politicians can get people to believe lies so easily? Because they know people are gullible. A lot of people struggle to think for themselves and will join collective, sheep thinking to be part of the group. A lot of people are scared to say “actually…”. It’s easier to be part of a group. And some people simply are not capable of analysis. Especially when you give them what they want to see - Brexit is such a fantastic evidence on how you fool half of the country because majority of people do not think for themselves or check evidence. And if you give them what they want to hear? You’re in.

[katieskarlette]

Long time, no ramble

I read The Calling, the new short story about Anduin. It was heart wrenching, emotional and poignant...but I couldn't stop thinking about how much I disliked the plot that sent him on this trajectory.

No matter how well-handled Anduin's PTSD and guilt are handled, I can't forget that they stem from the train wreck of Shadowlands. He should never have been put in this position in the first place.

Just as Anduin was literally yoinked into the sky by the Jailer's minions to start the expansion, he was also yoinked out of his plot arc. He was starting to come into his own as a king, moving beyond his father's shadow bit by bit, finding the balance between his own peace-loving tendencies and the grim necessity of some violence in a world such as Azeroth. There were hints that he was struggling with the balance of Light and Shadow, as well. All of that character development came to a screeching halt when he got kidnapped and turned into Zovaal's puppet.

What made pre-Shadowlands Anduin unique was his stubborn insistence on empathy in a world full of bloodthirsty warmongers. The siege of Undercity at the start of BFA was the perfect microcosm of that: he set down Shalamayne and used the Light to heal/rez his soldiers instead. He was finding ways to lead that were effective but which allowed him to be true to his ideals.

There was nothing wrong with the way Varian led his people (or at least nothing that I want to get into right now), but that doesn't mean his style is the right choice for Anduin. I've always had a soft spot for characters who are like, "Yeah, I know the world is a cruel place. I'm not naïve. But that's all the more reason to spread hope and kindness."

I would have been fine with a plot where Anduin struggles to find a happy medium between "We must strive for peace" and "We need to mercilessly obliterate our enemies to protect innocent lives," and errs too much on the side of violence. He could feel the same remorse and lack of trust in himself as he does in the current canon, feel unworthy of the Light, think back on how Varian atoned for some of his misdeeds, and grow as a person. It would mean more if he was actually making choices and working through the consequences.

As it stands, Anduin is beating himself up over something that isn't his fault, even a little bit. I sympathize with him up to a point, but by the end of the short story I was frustrated and even a little annoyed with his stubborn self-hatred. He's not stupid, and it's not like being controlled by evil forces is a new concept for an Azerothian. He comes across as obtuse when he insists that he's indelibly tainted by what happened to him, when he personally knows people who have been in similar situations and did not become pariahs.

(Yes, I know trauma responses aren't logical. Irrational guilt and survivor's guilt exist. But realism doesn't necessarily translate into a satisfying narrative. And yes, characters need to change and face challenges, but when those challenges were born from atrocious writing it leaves a bad taste in the audience's mouth.)

Is there dramatic irony in the kind, altruistic character not being able to extend the same grace to himself? Of course. But is Blizzard's storytelling capable of that level of nuance? Forgive me for being skeptical. I'm sure he will find himself again and heal through the coming expansions, but, again, I'm not optimistic that it will be handled well.

I'm probably judging the story too harshly because my patience for WoW's story ran out during Shadowlands and I'm still bitter. If they had to try to salvage a halfway decent character arc from the bullshit of that expansion, this is probably the best way to go about it.

The new short story was well-written and tugged at the heartstrings. It just didn't win me back. I didn't expect it to, though. Instead I continue to mourn a franchise that captivated me for many years before its trip to the realm of Death meant the demise of my devotion. :(

Disclaimer: I didn't hate everything about Shadowlands. Sire Denathrius can read off a list of my sins anytime. Aww yeah. The rest can be retconned to oblivion, though. ;)

[objectheadzine]

WELCOME TO THE 10TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE OBJECT HEAD ZINE!

2 months left!

In celebration, the 2024's edition will be a Grab Bag - draw whatever object head you like (so long as it fits the guidelines, see below). In Lieu of a theme, all submissions MUST HAVE ASHLEY (the megaphone mascot) in the piece! Feel free to make him as large or as small as you want in the composition. He can be hanging out with your characters or he can be on a flyer, just so long he's somewhere in the picture! Reference of all his outfits can be found here. But don't feel like you're restricted to his previous outfits. Feel free to dress him up in anything you'd like. Content is also free for whatever! You want to date the lil man? Go for it! You want to tease or go on the attack? Also fine! Ignore him and let him live his life? Sure thing.

ALL submissions will be accepted as long as they fit guidelines and each person has a limit of up to 3 submissions. Submit your pieces to the zine email objectheadzine(@)hotmail(.)com along with the email/website/name you’d like to be credited as. (Feel free to omit emails if that is more comfortable). When you’ve finished your piece(s), you are allowed to post them to your blogs as long as you link back to the zine blog! This will be a DIGITAL ZINE ONLY and will be available free upon completion (donation optional).

The guidelines are as follow:

Illustration-quality works in either digital or traditional mediums. Both colour and b/w acceptable; background required. *BG can be as simple as a pattern or colour block! Avoid utilizing a camera to submit your images, please use a scanner. 

The default size will be 6″x9″, 300 dpi (1800px x 2700px) but feel free to go larger or smaller, so long as it follows those proportions. Please work in a vertical format.

For consistency’s sake, keep faces to a minimum (You can have eye(s) or you can have mouth(s) but don’t have both in a humanoid arrangement.)

Ashley, the megaphone head mascot, must be included in your piece. He can be small in the picture or a large factor but he must be included. When submitting, if he is not obvious, please point him out to me. References are found here.

Please go for original characters (or fanart of your friend’s characters) and not so much established object heads (e.g. the popcorn and soda heads from No More).

If you want to include humans, that’s fine as well but keep the ratio of people to object heads 1:1.

Content should be at most PG-13: Romance is fine but after-hours business should not be implied, Blood is fine but no gore. In the end, use your common sense.

Feel free to draw a comic or just an illustration! A comic counts as one submission.

Some facts about Ashley that could help with your piece: He's 5'2", he's of Chinese nationality, he's a TV show host, he's a bubbly, happy-go-lucky kind of guy and he has a Samyoed dog named Cotton!

Note that if a submission does not meet the above guidelines, I will either reject your submission or suggest improvements that would help your piece fulfill them. Please email me at objectheadzine(@)hotmail(.)com if you have any further questions and I’ll do my best to reply promptly. If you do not receive a message from me within a few days, please send it again. Final pieces submitted should be either in PNG or a one layer PSD file format.

Want to share your piece as you're working on them? Come on over to the Object Head Zine discord!

THE DUE DATE FOR SUBMISSIONS IS NOVEMBER 9TH.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Guess who’s back to spoiling her own story? It’s me! 

So, I was going to keep this a secret until I got to it naturally in Lucky Break and have been omitting it from all stories happening post Little Garden, but I have finally caved because reading about Ace adopting Kotatsu in Ace’s Story got me thinking “aww this would be such a good bonding point between him and Lucky” so let’s talk about Magnolia!

Magnolia (Maggie for short) is a sabertooth tiger cub that Lucky stumbles across in Little Garden and adopts after seeing that her mother is dead and she’s been left alone. This leads into Lucky finally getting an official title as the Straw Hat’s animal tamer. Magnolia is Lucky’s main means of defense (plus a weapon she gets in literally the next chapter). Granted, Magnolia doesn’t become a huge threat until after the timeskip when she’s much bigger, but even as a cub she’s the size of a medium sized dog so an attack from her still feels like being mauled by an angry german shepard with huge teeth.

Magnolia has a big scar on her left hind leg that happened when her mother was killed by a triceratops. She was launched during the attack and tore her leg open on a tree branch she flew into. After doing some research on what noises sabertooth tigers would have made, I have settled on her sounding similar to a clouded leopard since that’s their closest relative and there aren’t any conclusive studies on their vocalizations. She makes a lot of meowing sounds, screams instead of roars, and chuffs.

As much as I wanted to keep her a surprise until her official debut, I was starting to feel bad about leaving her out of everything.

Now that the explanation is over, here’s a short drabble of Little Lucky and Ace bonding over this. This takes place immediately before What’cha Got There

Ace crouched down and chuckled at the affectionate cub rubbing up against his legs. He extended his arm and scratched behind her ears, eliciting some contented chuffs. The heat that he was constantly giving off was always a big hit with cats, and that appeared to apply to sabertooth tigers as well.

“So this one is yours, huh? What’s her name?” Ace looked up from the feline to see your happy face.

“I named her Magnolia, but I usually just call her Maggie,” you explained proudly, patting Magnolia enthusiastically. 

“Oh yeah? That’s a nice name. She looks awfully happy, you must be taking good care of her.”

You nodded aggressively, “Yeah! I’ve always wanted a kitty and now I’m gonna be the best at keeping her!” Magnolia leaned into your pets happily, chuffing more as she pushed her face into yours, “Isn’t she the sweetest little kitty?”

“Little? She’s almost as big as you!” Ace pinched your cheek as he teased you.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna get way bigger! Maggie’s mama was huge!” Your grin dropped, “I found her next to her mama after she got attacked by something. That’s how she got this, too.” You pointed to the patch of bandages on Magnolia’s thigh. Your arms locked around the feline’s neck, and you brought her in for a hug, “I helped Maggie, but her mama was already dead, so I decided to take her with me.”

Ace smiled fondly as he remembered rescuing a cat himself back in his days as captain of the Spade Pirates. An idea came to mind all of a sudden, “You know, Lucky, I’ve got a cat that I rescued, too.”

Your head snapped in his direction instantly, eyes wide with surprise, “You do?! Where?!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm, “Easy there, he’s not here right now.”

“Aww,” your shoulders sulked and your lips formed a pout, but it was short lived. Immediately after, you perked back up with a sparkle in your eyes, “Well where is he? Can I meet him? What’s his name? Is he also a sabertooth?”

The rapid fire questions only made him laugh more, “Whoa, whoa, give me a chance to answer! He’s a kind of lynx, I think, and his name is Kotatsu. He’s living it up on my Pop’s ship now, so you’ll have to come visit if you want to meet him.”

“Can Maggie come, too? They could be friends!”

“I don’t see why not. Do you wanna go right now?” A very small part of Ace felt bad for essentially baiting you into coming with him, but was it so bad to want to introduce his newfound niece to his brothers?

His grin widened upon seeing you nod, only for it to stop abruptly. You paused and looked at your feet, “That does sound fun, but I don’t think everyone would let me. They don’t like it when I’m not with them.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ll be with me!” Ace tried to convince you, but you still looked unsure. “How about this: what if I sneak you off the ship so you can visit?”

You weren’t fully on board yet, but you were looking at him inquisitively, “How?”

That was a good question. Ace scratched the back of his head in thought until he got an idea. He stood up and went over to his backpack and rifled through it before pulling out a bunched up piece of cloth. With a flourish, he threw on the cloak and held out his arms to you expectantly.

All you did was tilt your head at him, clearly not understanding what he was getting at.

“Come here! I can hide you in this and we’ll go!”

You stared back at him for a beat, before dissolving into giggles, “That won’t work! You’re being silly!” Magnolia flinched from the sudden outburst, leaping back onto her feet from the sitting position she was in and looking around the room wildly.

“Hey, give it a chance!” Ace clutched at his chest, deeply wounded from being mocked by a little kid.

“Where would Maggie go?”

That did pose a problem. There’s no way he can fit both you and Maggie in his cloak. “Uh. W-Well… she can just walk with us? The others are only worried about you leaving, right? They won’t care if it’s just Maggie,” he offers.

You only continued to mercilessly laugh in his face, “You’re not very good at coming up with plans, Uncle Ace!” 

“Okay, come here you,” Ace stormed forward and scooped you up. As soon as you were secured to his chest, he wrapped the cloak tight around you. 

You squirmed and thrashed in his grip, “Quit it, you’re too hot! I’m gonna get all sweaty!”

“All the more reason for us to hurry!” Ace slipped his backpack over his shoulder and looked down at Magnolia, who was now at his feet and pawing at his cloak, “Alright, let’s go Maggie, follow me.”

“This isn’t gonna work,” you chimed in, muffled from the cloth and having your face squished into his chest. 

Ace paid it no mind and hurried towards the door to the deck. He knew this was far from his best idea, but he was desperate to show you off to his family. All he could do was pray that no one else was on deck.

[96percentdone]

Every time my old post expressing bafflement at 'anti player theory' undertale and deltarune fans gets a note, I go through the war again. Maybe some of them are normal, but like every post from these people that I have ever seen is never content to just have a strictly in universe read of the text. They gotta assert that believing a video game has meta elements spits in the face of craft and storytelling, and no video game could ever draw attention to it being a video game as part of it's thematic identity. They have to debunk the concept of metafiction just to be right, which is hilarious because they end up overwriting the thematic craft they claim to be the only real supporters of.

Undertale is about war, and violence, and hate and how we respond to it. Most monsters don't really want to fight, half of them are just hanging out, so they're happy to be friends if you are, but the memory of the war between monsters and humans lingers. Whether they don't entirely understand the war's true essence because of their purehearted natures make them antithetical to it (Papyrus, Monster Kid), or use the narrative around it as a prop for their personal goals and are forced to contend themselves (Alphys, Mettaton), or try to teach its horrors with its methods (Toriel), or are convinced that the only way to escape the shadow of the war is to win it (Undyne) even if they don't really want to wage war at all (Asgore), the history of that war informs it all. Flowey is who he is because that violence ravaged Asriel, a small child, SO hard his grief and anger are now everyone's problems. He cannot feel love because the cycle of violence stole his ability to believe in it. Every genocide boss only fights you to stop you from carrying out your own. They know that if the entire underground is so easily destroyed, there is no reason humanity wouldn't face the same fate, and this cycle must end, even if they are powerless. The ending is determined by whether you perpetuate war. The genocide run is a grueling, unfulfilling, deliberately difficult challenge as punishment for enacting war for nebulous gain, while pacifist ending brings about the best future, where everyone including Asriel is saved, and it is the most fun to play, because is one where you commit to kindness and understanding. They both are in service to the thesis statement that "love and compassion are good and the key to rectifying all wrongs."

Hbomberguy and NezumiVA have made videos on the same lines, but Undertale's meta because it's about how we engage with video games as a medium. It's about completionism. It asks whether mining a story for every possible scrap of information is worthwhile. Chara's true name is literally a derivative of player character, you are meant to name them after yourself, and project onto them and Frisk until the game seperates them from you because you are a real human being, not a character in a video game. You only learn Frisk's name by the end of pacifist, the best possible ending that you should be satisfied with as a means of separating your ties, and you only meet Chara when you go way the fuck out of your way to get the worst possible ending because of vague hints that there is one. Undertale uses the vibe and aesthetic of old turn-based rpgs to draw you in, get you comfortable, only to use it's characters to ask why are you doing any of this? Is this why you like stories? Are video games merely arrangements of lore to be logged into a wiki until you run out of data to sort, or did you like Undertale and other video games because its characters and ideas resonated with you emotionally? The text has a lot of compassion for Alphys and her fan hobbies, and it only criticizes her when she treats the real world as a self insert fanfic, and it's meta thesis for you is similar. It's fine and good that you love your favorite games, but what are you getting out of engaging with the medium in this way? "Don't you have anything better to do?"

But Deltarune is where they really start to lose me. It is not finished, things could change with later installments, but from what little we have, it follows up on Undertale's commentary about the cycle of violence, and brings it back to suburbia. Violence here is interpersonal abuse and neglect. It is adults caught up in the myriad problems of adult life they do not notice, or fail to support, or do not care about the children suffering under those same systems. Kris is a child who lives in the shadow of their older brother. They befriend Susie, who eats garbage and doesn't seem to have parents (or at least not any that give a shit), and they have a childhood bond with Noelle, who has lost her sister, her father is in the hospital, and her mother is absent and otherwise not great. Even Berdley has a whole complex about needing to be smart thanks to his upbringing. Kris opens this portal themself, literally escaping into a fantasy land where they, children, are the most important and powerful, unbeholden to adults and their baggage. They get to be agents, not subjects, and yet the dark world still has those same anxieties. Lancer is afraid of his father, Queen is an overbearing mother, Rouxls is an opportunist most concerned with himself, King struggles in vain to liberate himself from being a subject while forcing his subjects to adhere to his agenda, Spamton wants to escape his chains and is the incarnation of a spambot, Seam gives up, and Jevil escapes into his imagination. Kris can abuse Noelle into the snowgrave route, and Susie and Berdley are bullies because kids are just as capable of hurting one another as adults are. Darkners may say shit about not wanting to fight anyway, and Ralsei might regurgitate Undertale's lesson as truth like it's his full time job, but even he re-evaluates by the end of chapter one. In the real world things cannot be as simple they were in Undertale.

Agency obviously relates back to the meta, as Kris' is literally overwritten by the red soul you are asked to give your own name in a dialogue that once again separates you from your fictional vessel, a player character, then goes even harder when they slam dunk that little guy you made into the trash because "No one can choose who they are in this world." You can't either. You can get Kris to abuse Noelle into killing people, carry out the abuses that made these kids desperate to escape in the first place, even if they don't want that, but understanding the player solely as a force that strips agency, much like understanding Undertale's player as a comment on real world morality, is incomplete.

If Undertale critiques completionism and datamining as a valuable ways to understand art, then Deltarune reuses its cast and critiques is thesis as part of a its meta to showcase the it's real value. It is a story that even in universe is about fiction. The dark world and its inhabitants are palatable reflections of Hometown. Kris and Susie keep going back because it is freeing, and allows them to grapple with the their complicated feelings about their world. They can come out more confident in themselves, with a healthier mindset, or Berdley can fucking die! Violence in the dark world comes back out of it because the dark world is a mirror. Video games aren't real, you don't actually kill monsters or darkners, but war is real, and violence is real, and abuse is real, aren't they? Isn't that why you get sad when characters you like die? How often do we use analogies and metaphors to explain our feelings, or complicated ideas? Fiction is just a tool to understand the world. What are the stories you love saying to you?

If the meta doesn't compel you, it's not what you find value in, or how you interpret the text, I don't care, even if I think it's strange. What you get out of these games belongs to you, and you deserve to have your reading as much as I or any meta proponent does. But anyone making claims about what fiction must be, just to deny the a meta angle is possible? That's anti-intellectual bullshit. It denies metafiction exists as a tool altogether. It shits on not just Undertale and Deltarune, or meta video games, but stories written across every medium that have ever used their work to comment on itself, its genre, its medium, or art as a whole. If you denigrate a whole artistic convention and the work of countless artists just to validate your hot take? You don't deserve any respect.