#he also dresses up every may 4th

[mediumgayitalian]

Do you think Will has a set of Lightsaber chopsticks? Because you can not convince me that he doesn't. Something like this, probably.

oh yah. he has lightsaber Everything 💀 his bedsheets are star wars which is embarrassing for him but mostly endearing

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Fatui Harbingers (Normalized Yandere AU)

Okay so I had a thought for my Normalized Yandere AU for Genshin,in a thread of reblogs (read here) with @writing-genshin-obsession she brought up the idea of in Snezhnaya most if not every relationship steeped into Yandere and that sort of behavior being encouraged there.

This made me think, let me walk you all through my train of thought 

Encouraged yandere behavior in Snezhnaya -> Fatui having darlings with them -> Harbingers having darlings -> Darlings resenting them (especially ones from other regions) -> Darlings running away together and trying to destroy the people and organization that made their life hell

The 11th Harbinger’s Darling

The Childhood Sweetheart

An Anemo Wielder 

Childe’s darling is probably his childhood friend, someone who knows him or at least  she thought she did. After going their separate ways from their childhood and they meet again and she sees who he really is, she questions everything. This isn’t the sweet Ajax she used to play with. Then to add more salt to the wound after their reunion, barely even knowing this new Ajax, he asks her parents to let him marry their daughter. She hears that and wants to throw up, she excuses herself from the room and steps out into the cold landscape of her hometown for some “air”. That air is running as fast as she can until she meets another…

The 9th Harbinger’s Darling

The Shopkeeper 

A Cyro Wielder

Pantalone’s darling is the one she meets. A young shop owner, a bakery, florist, or something along those lines. She invites the other inside the empty shop to hide. When the other darling asks about the lack of business the other reveals that for the last few months the ninth of the Fatui Harbingers have been coming to her shop and the sight of him kept away any other customers. If he didn’t come that day he would have Fatui members stay nearby, scaring away customers. He was driving her broke, all because she refused his marriage proposal.

The two young woman stay together until the missing person posters start popping up for the runaway. With the lack of customers and if they found Childe’s darling hiding here Pantalone’s darling she would be arrested and fall easily into the Regrator’s hands. So the two of them pack up what they can and run away together, leaving Snezhnaya. 

The 8th & 7th Harbingers’ Darlings

The Knight & Ballerina

A Hydro Wielder & an Electro Wielder 

They find themselves going to the city of freedom where they meet two other darlings, La Signora’s darling, a knight, and Sandrone’s darling, a dancer. The two of them have been close friends for a number of years and easily welcome the other darlings into their small apartment once they hear of their situation. It doesn’t take long to notice La Signora’s darling always keeping a close eye on the Fatui on  his patrols, along with the scars on Sandrone’s darling’s joints, almost like a doll. It doesn’t take long after for the two to reveal that they were kidnapped by the Fatui a while ago, separately but ran away together, much like the other two. La SIgnora saw the soul of her deceased lover in the young man’s eyes and called him by the deceased man’s name. Sandrone made her darling into the little perfect doll, she kept the darling drugged up and dressed up. If it wasn’t for the knight rescuing her on his own escape she fears on what may have happened.  

They also revealed that they had other friends around Teyvat that had been victims of the Harbingers and if something happened they would leave to meet up with the others as soon as possible…

And something did happen…

On a walk one day Pantalone’s darling spots the owner of the Goth Grand Hotel talking to a man… her heart sinks, its him…

She runs home and tells the others, they don’t even waste a moment before setting out again…

The 4th Harbinger’s Darling

The “Mother”

A Geo Wielder 

The four of them move onto Fontaine where they meet a young librarian and one of these victims of the harbingers. She’s so incredibly sweet it’s almost hard to believe something happened to her… 

Well almost…

When they were talking outside on the streets of Fontaine, a young man and woman run up to her, calling her “mother” and telling her how worried “father” was about her since she disappeared. There is an apparent look of fear and horror on her face at this. The young duo don’t stay long, saying they’re going to let father know she’s okay. 

The moment they’re out of sight the librarian throws up and is in hysterics, saying how they need to get out of here at once. Once calmed down she reveals to the rest of them that a few years ago she ran away from the 4th harbinger, Arlecchino. The father of the House of the Hearth, and since she was the harbinger’s partner, she was the unwilling mother. 

The 3rd Harbinger’s Darling

The Actress

A Cyro Wielder

After that interaction, the Knave’s darling leads them to a safe house, a theater. There they meet up with Columbina’s darling, an actress. Unlike the others she refused to say what happened to her, just that something left her traumatized before she ran from Snezhnaya. She lets the others stay at the theater, well that is until that place is unsafe. The actress spots Arlecchino visiting the theater one day. The actress tells the others how it’s no longer safe here and she tells them to find their friends in Sumeru…

The actress distracts Arlecchino in conversation while the others escape but not without a price. Arlecchino recognizes her and thinks it may be smart and her best interest to return the wayward darling to Damselette…

I suppose not everyone can run forever…

The 2nd & 1st Harbingers’ darlings

The Medic & Hunter

A Dendro Wielder & Pyro Wielder

In the wilds of Sumeru is where they meet the others, a young lady, a medic, and Dottore’s darling. Traveling with her is a man, a hunter, a ranger, and Capitano’s darling. The two of them have been avoiding cities for a long time, cities mean people, and people could mean Fatui, and Fatui could mean they are trapped all over again. They met a long time ago, the Hunter used to serve in the Fatui under Capitano, until they found out the captain was going to have him go out on a dangerous mission so the hunter would be purposefully injured so he would be discharged and placed in the harbinger’s custody. He already hates the Fatui, only joining because that’s what his parents expected of him. So he ran which lead him into meeting the medic…

She was a graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya, but she did not call Dottore by that name once, always Zandik. She used to know him as a friend, they went to the Akademiya together before he was expelled. She was completely blindsided by his true nature, he was ever so kind to her, always helping her with her research. When he left the Akademiya and joined the Fatui he begged her to come with him, telling her to think of all the great things they could accomplish together, but his true nature disgusted her. She eventually graduated from the Akademiya, moving on to continue her medical research, and she did amazing things. That is until she returned to where she was staying one night and found her equipment destroyed and her research stolen, her life’s work just gone with a note saying if she wanted it back she would go to the spot where they first met, back In Sumeru. On the way there she ran into the Hunter, who convinced her not to go, of the Fatui’s corruption, so with that they traveled together, staying out of two harbingers’ reaches.

The Director’s Darling 

The Historian 

Vision Unknown

Over a campfire they all explain to Childe’s and Pantalone’s darlings how they all know each other. A kind woman, another nomad lead them to one another about a year ago. She apparently escaped with Columbina’s darling a number of years ago, her from Pierro. Unlike the others she never stayed in one region for to long, she couldn’t settle in Mondstadt like the knight and ballerina, nor Fontaine like the mother and actress, she couldn’t even travel the wilds of Sumeru with the medic and the hunter, and just forget about returning to Snezhnaya. 

They rarely heard from her but considering the recent kidnapping of Columbina’s darling they bet on something happening and it happening soon…

[warping-realities]

Part of the Family

Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.

Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.

“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.

“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.

“Alexander, you made it!”

“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.

“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”

Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.

“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.

“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.

“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.

“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.

“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.

“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.

“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.

“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”

“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.

“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.

“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”

“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.

“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”

“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.

“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.

“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.

“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”

“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”

“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”

“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.

“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”

“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.

“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”

The audacity of that hick!

“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.

“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”

Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.

“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.

“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.

“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.

“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”

“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.

“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.

…..

Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.

“The kid’s shitting himself.”

“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”

“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”

“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”

“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”

“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”

“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”

“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”

“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”

“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”

“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.

“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”

“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”

“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”

“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”

“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”

“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”

“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”

“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.

“Let’s have some fun.”

….

“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.

“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”

“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”

“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”

He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.

“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.

“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.

“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, officer.”

“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”

Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.

“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”

“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”

“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”

“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”

Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.

“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”

At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?

“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”

“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.

He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.

“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”

“I just want to find Abby.”

“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”

“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”

Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.

“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”

Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.

“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”

“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.

“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”

“I already told you my name…”

“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.

“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”

Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?

“What… what?”

“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.

“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom’s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.

“Hmmm…”

“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”

“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.

“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”

“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”

“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”

“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”

And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.

“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.

“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”

Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.

“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”

“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”

“Without control, our society falls apart.”

“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”

“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”

“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.

“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”

“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.

“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.

A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.

“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”

For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.

“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”

Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.

“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.

“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.

“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”

“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.

“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”

“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”

“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”

“Abby’s here? Fuck!”

“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”

“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”

“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”

“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”

“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”

Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.

“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.

“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.

“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.

“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.

“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.

“That was a good one, bro.”

“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”

…..

“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.

“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”

“I... I…”

“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”

“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”

“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”

“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”

“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”

In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.

“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.

“You have no idea what that feels like!”

“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.

“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.

“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”

….

After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.

“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.

“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”

"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."

"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."

“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”

“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.

“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”

“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”

“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

  vi. the letters

september 2nd 2008 (age 9)

dear jungkook,

  my mom said i should write you letters. i don’t really know what to say here. you better be visiting marshmallow and be nice to her while i’m gone. i miss her a lot. i guess i miss having you around since i don’t have anyone to play guitar hero with…

p.s. happy late birthday maybe i can visit and come to your party next year if my mom lets me

  from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

january 19th 2009 (age 10)

dear y/n,

  i learned how to skate for the first time. it’s too bad the ice will be gone when you’re back and we won’t get to skate together. i can’t believe we’ll be in middle school soon. are you scared? hoseok and namjoon say it’s not a big deal. also, i saw your grandpa yesterday and he showed me how to use a tapper on a maple tree. so cool!

p.s. you should ask your mom if you can visit earlier this year

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

april 23rd 2009 (age 10)

HEY JUNGKOOK,

  look inside the box, i sent you a book with this letter. i told you in my last letter that i would send you one. it’s astronomy for dummies (because you’re a dummy). you better read it before i come back to grandpa’s, okay?? you have a month and a half loser.

from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

september 30th 2009 (age 10)

hi y/n,

  jimin sprained his ankle during gym class. your grandpa told me to write that because it probably just made your day. i feel a little bit bad for him, the nurse at our school is really mean. also i know it’s a month away but i’m so excited for halloween. my dad got me this really cool goku costume. what are you gonna dress up as?

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

february 4th 2010 (age 11)

jungkook,

  i’m so tired of my parents fighting all the time. all they do is yell. i can’t wait to be back in amber valley so i don’t have to hear them all the time. i wish i had your parents, they’re so nice. also i hate my class. it’s so hard to be friends with the girls that sit next to me, they always leave me out of things. don’t you miss elementary school?

  from y/n

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

may 17th 2010 (age 11)

dear y/n,

  guess what. my dad got me a skateboard!! it’s so cool. if you’re nice to me i’ll let you borrow it. we should see who can do the coolest trick. it’ll be me of course i’m better than you at everything LOL. you better hurry and come back!

  from jungkook

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

november 25th 2010 (age 11)

hi jungkook, 

  i can’t believe i’ll only be living with my dad soon. do you think my mom doesn’t want me? honestly, i’d rather just live with grandpa all the time. then i could see marshmallow everyday all year! or maybe you can convince your mom to take me in. actually, i take that back, i could never live with you. you’re so messy. 

p.s. i got my own skateboard!! it’s cold now but i’m gonna practice and bring it with me next summer

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***

february 18th 2011 (age 12)

y/n,

  i know you’re super sad and stuff. i’m sorry about your parents. we’re gonna have the best summer ever though and maybe you won’t think so much about it. look at the bucket list i made!

eat breakfast for dinner

watch the captain america movie

ride the big kids ride at the midsummer fair (i’m tall enough now so you better be too)

stay up all night

make ice cream

  if you have any ideas, add on! hope you’re doing okay :( 

  from jungkook

  vii. the saloon

when jungkook mentioned the saloon to you, you thought it was a joke poking at the countryside life. 

  “oh, it’s actually called a saloon. like, unironically. that’s what the text said,” you rambled into your phone, edged between your ear and shoulder, as you stood in your kitchen in front of your laptop.

  on the screen, you were assembling an excel sheet of sorts to assist your navigation through the business side of the farm. thankfully, this was exactly the field you had long worked and studied in and knowing this before taking on your new role made the transition far easier. there was hardly any product to be profiting from, as you had just arrived, and you were preparing the document before the time came to deal with vendors and other local businesses.

  “oh, honey, that place has actually been called ‘the saloon’ ever since i was a little girl,” your mom’s voice chimed in from the other end.

  since the turn of your early twenties, your phone calls to your parents were far and few between and you could hear the surprise in her tone when she initially picked up. but, your grandpa’s letter seemed to be growing truer everyday, as your surroundings made drew you to reconnect with what you thought was to be lost.

  eyebrows furrowed, you continued to scroll through your work. “mom, do you think he meant it as a date? i can’t do a date, i literally just got here!”

  “calm down. it’s that amber valley hospitality. but,” your mom paused, “you did have crushes on each other growing up.”

  “mom, no way - “

  she merely laughed. “it was so obvious! you mailed a valentine’s day card to jungkook every year. one time, he punched little jimin because he called you ‘jungkook’s ugly girlfriend.’”

  “and then he screamed that i wasn’t ugly. huh, i do remember that,” you began to think. 

  spending time reminiscing with your mom momentarily distracted you from the anxiety you felt, waiting for the evening to come. jungkook did end up texting you, asking if you were coming down to the saloon for the birthday surprise. you looked away and closed your eyes when you pressed ‘send’ on the confirmation that you would drop by.

  the idea made you nervous only because it had been so long since you went out and met new people. there was no such thing as free time in your old life and you really only maintained surface-level friendships with your coworkers in your last year of the job.  however, knowing amber valley and the tight-knit community, it was only a matter of time before you got acquainted with everyone, whether you liked it or not.

  by the time it was six, you’d forced yourself to get changed and inspected your outfit several times before leaving. the last thing you wanted to do was stand out too much. so, you put on your favourite denim jeans and a plain long sleeve top, putting away your go-to strappy stilettos for the night. 

  making your way into town was quick and soon enough, you found the pub situated in between the flower shop and the hardware store. it definitely looked like it’d been around since your mom was a little girl, the exterior siding showing age with chips here and there. 

  “hey y/n.”

  you jumped, having not paid attention to your surroundings. turning around, it was taehyung holding a box adorned in magenta polka dot wrapping. he wore a similar outfit to the one from the day before, except a different cowboy hat. you wondered if there was a store in town that specialized in selling just these hats.

  “hi taehyung. is this for jin?” you offered a smile, gesturing to the box.

  a pleased grin formed on taehyung’s face. “yup. i’m pretty sure i got him the best gift out of everyone, but don’t tell anyone.”

  he walked ahead of you and opened the door, pausing. you realized he was opening it for you and you quickly thanked him, going right in. small town hospitality. 

  it was saturday evening, but to your surprise, there were hardly any patrons in the bar. taehyung then pointed to a sign by the door, which you missed completely. it read: ‘private event, invite only.’ 

  “oh, wow, am i v.i.p?” you joked, following him to the back of the room, where a stack of presents were grouped on one table. 

  “of course! you’re jungkook’s friend, after all,” he exclaimed, setting his box down with the others. “you guys go way back, huh? how long has it been since you guys since saw each other?”

  you counted in your head. “i think twelve or thirteen years. a while.”

  “what, no facebook back in the day?” he teased.

  “no, he was never nearly fond of that. after i stopped coming for the summers, we lost contact completely.” you couldn’t recall any attempts for continued communication afterwards, other than your grandpa offering updates here and there about him. “we used to write, but i don’t know what happened. . .”

  for a while, you wondered why jungkook never wrote you again after you stopped coming to the valley. admittedly, looking back, it hurt your preteen self that he never tried. but, eventually, you moved on and left jungkook in your childhood.

  taehyung nodded slowly. “so. . .you didn’t know about what happened?”

  you already knew what he was talking about and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “no. i felt really bad about it.”

  “it’s okay. since i moved to town, i’ve really admired jungkook. if there’s any sort of pain, he hides it really well for the sake of others,” he said, leaning on the wall.

  that sounded like the jungkook you remembered. he was always the type to put others before himself, no matter how small the issue. then, you began thinking about jiwon.

  “taehyung, can i ask you something?” you suddenly said. “jiwon. she’s only nine. and jungkook doesn’t have any other family. . .”

  the smile at the corner of taehyung’s lips was sad. “yeah. jungkook is her primary guardian and has been since he was nineteen.”

  the answer seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and you had to take a second to take it all in. there were so many questions that formed, floating around your head and you couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any of them. before you could even try, you jumped again at the sudden appearance of two new individuals, one of them being jungkook himself and forced you to put away your thoughts.

  “we’re behind schedule, did yoongi put the cake in the fridge?” this new person was turned to taehyung, carrying a case of beer. “we need - oh, hi! y/n! i totally remember you, i heard you were back!”

  you’d never seen someone with such energy, exhibiting positivity like a ray of sunshine. it seemed like he was genuinely delighted to see you. taking a closer look at his features, you recognized him to be jung hoseok - jungkook’s next door neighbour. he put down the case in his hands and immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

  “hoseok, hi!” you winced, trying your best to hug him back, but it certainly made you burst into a giggle.

  he was the first person to remember you on the spot, which took you aback. a few years older than you, you weren’t as close with him as you were with jungkook growing up, but he was always around. you remember him as the big brother who showed you and jungkook the cool ‘older kid’ shows and games that your parents would have never let you watch at that young age. 

  “how have you been? you look so grown up! you’re really staying here for good?” the questions were rapid-fire, one after another.

  beside him, jungkook was smiling, but tapped hoseok to bring him back into the main conversation. “hyung. hyung! we’re behind schedule, remember?” he groaned, but grinned wider when you met his eyes. “nice to see you, though, bunny. really glad you came.”

  “oh, right.” hoseok quickly let go and cleared his throat, beginning to point to each of you with authority. “you, taehyung. go help jimin with the slideshow. namjoon has the pinata.”

  pinata? how old was this jin person, was he one of jiwon’s friends?

  “you, jungkook. jin said he’s five minutes away, we need you to distract him for a bit longer.”

  “can i help?” you piped in, feeling a bit out of place. “i mean, i’m here as a last minute guest, i’m happy to help in any way.”

  hoseok clapped his hands together in glee. “thank you, y/n! go help jungkook distract jin, you being there will give him a reason to yap on. let’s go team!” he raised his fist in encouragement and in the blink of an eye, he already dashed off. 

  at this, jungkook seemed unfazed and frankly, so were you. you remember hoseok’s personality to be like this - extremely vigorous and could never sit in one place. on the other hand, taehyung looked perplexed as much as he appeared amused. he only shrugged, picking up the case of beer that hoseok clearly forgot.

  “let’s go team, i guess. i’ll see you guys in a bit!” taehyung chuckled, walking off.

  you were expecting to be asked to move around chairs or help bring out food. this wasn’t quite in your cards. you turned to jungkook in confusion, who chuckled at your expression.

  “come follow me.”

  he led the two of you back out the saloon, hands in his jean pockets. the early summer air was stunningly humid and coming outside was like hitting a muggy and sticky wall. but, there was one thing that couldn’t be replaced.

  you couldn’t help but stare up at the sky, a fixed gaze. “you can really see the stars when you’re in the valley.”

  the stars, dotted across the night, twinkled and smiled down at you. it was a view that others only romanticized and dreamt of in carefully crafted paintings and poems made to move the soul. and now, this dream was your new home. 

  jungkook mimicked the way you tilted your head up, lost with his own gaze. “i’ve lived here all my life and i never get tired of it.”

  “i can’t believe i forgot about this. . .” you trailed off.

  he pointed out to the sky. “that one is ursa major and you can see - “

  “ - the big dipper,” the two of you said in unison, which led to a shared laughter. 

astronomy was one of your biggest interests growing up, having stacks of books and a tapestry of the night sky in your childhood bedroom. your bedroom in the farmhouse also had a shelf full of astronomy books, which your grandpa still kept until his passing. having ignored the task of organizing and arranging your new bedroom, which was the same room you occupied over your summers in amber valley, you made a note to go through this shelf when you arrived home.

  jungkook said, “you’re the one that taught me about that,” he turned back to you. “you actually used to randomly quiz me on constellations, it was really stressful.”

  you could see your younger self sitting on your grandpa’s porch steps with jungkook, who lazied on the hammock across from you. you would compile actual multiple-choice questions and threw pebbles at him whenever he got an answer wrong. eventually, your grandpa scolded you for that, so you changed your weapon of choice to toy balls.

  “i guess my lessons paid off, though,” you bantered.

  following this, you heard a person shout jungkook’s name. you looked over and saw a man walking in your direction. he was tall and handsome and his smile was inviting. a little too handsome, he reminded you of models you’d seen in high fashion ads. his clothes contributed to the image, a patterned short sleeve button down and t-shirt that gave off neat and put-together. he wore jeans like what seemed to be 90 percent of the town, but you noticed the luxury brand belt. 

  “oh, seokjin!” to this, jungkook nudged you, as if signalling for you to be ready for something.

  this was jin? the birthday boy with a pinata? he had to be around hoseok’s age.

  “hey! hoseok told me to meet him here, have you see him?” seokjin began looking around. “he is working tonight, right?”

  “uh, did he?” jungkook’s tone was not convincing and you couldn’t believe the hoseok made such a horrible liar be the distraction. “i think he is, want me to call him?”

  “um, yeah. he said he was returning something he borrowed from me.” seokjin looked at him strangely. “why don’t i just go inside and check? why are you just waiting out here?”

  “this is y/n!” jungkook suddenly blurted out, seemingly having no way around the conversation. his smile was painful and avoided making eye contact.

  your eyes went wide and seokjin turned to you, having not realized there was another person in his presence. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there.”

  “yeah, hi, that’s me. y/n.” this time, it was jungkook looking at you like you were the least convincing person in the world. you cleared your throat and offered a handshake to seokjin.

  seokjin didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness and took your hand. “it’s really nice to meet you. jungkook actually told me a lot about you!” it was subtle, but you could hear jungkook groan. 

  you raised your eyebrows at jungkook. “oh, did he?” 

  “you guys grew up together, right? and you’re taking over the old farm?” 

  although you could tell right off the bat that seokjin wasn’t from amber valley, his deamanour was just as welcoming and friendly. he asked you a few questions about where you’re from and how settling in was. 

  “i’m sure you’ll be a natural. it sounds like you already have a lot of experience!” seokjin exclaimed and his positivity gave you genuine reassurance. “we’re all friends around here, so don’t be shy to reach out if you need anything.”

  “thank you,” you replied.

  jungkook tried to regain his composure. “seokjin runs the bakery down the street.”

  “yeah! my wife and i used to buy eggs from your grandpa all the time, hopefully we can keep doing that,” seokjin winked at you. 

  then, the front door of the saloon cracked open just enough for hoseok to poke his head outside. there was no sign of activity from the inside, with the lights now off and all voices coming to a complete silence. 

  seokjin tilted his head slightly when looking at hoseok. “there you are. are you. . closed? the bar is closed on a saturday night?” he asked.

  “yeah, uh, plumbing issues,” hoseok’s eyes darted over to you and jungkook. “y/n, jungkook! what brings you here around this time of day? you should all come in!”

  despite the growing skepticsm etched on his face, seokjin glanced over to you two and shrugged. he followed his friend’s gesture to come inside. 

  you mumbled to jungkook, “you and your friends are all terrible liars.” to this, jungkook stifled a laugh and playfully jabbed his elbow into your arm. 

  hoseok opened the door wider and seokjin went in first, while you and jungkook trailed after. you were surprised at how well they made the interior appear deserted, with not a single soul in sight. you did noticed that they even stacked the chairs on the tables, as if the establishment was really closed.

  “by the way, hoseok is the manager of the saloon,” jungkook leaned into your ear and whispered. 

  the floorboards creaked with every step, only adding onto the heavy silence in the atmosphere. seokjin looked around, eyebrows furrowed. he cleared his throat, hoping to cut the awkward tension.

  seokjin started, “so, y/n, what happened with you and ju - “

  “surprise!”

  all of the lights flickered on and filled the room. upbeat music turned on suddenly, causing seokjin to jump and yelp. two dozen or so people popped out from random places - underneath the booths, from behind the walls, and from behind the bar. balloons and streamers began spilling out from out of nowhere.

  “happy birthday seokjin!” everyone yelled in unison.

  you awkwardly tried to join in once you caught onto what everyone was saying. despite that, the high energy ended up engulfing you and you couldn’t help but smile. some of the boys started throwing streamers at seokjin, while namjoon appeared from under the bar with a lit chocolate cake and began approaching the birthday boy in question.

  “thanks, y/n!” hoseok nudged you, as everyone began singing to seokjin. “it’s exciting that you’re around again!” 

  as the song concluded and seokjin enthusastically blew out his candles, you cheered along with everyone else. over the cheering, jungkook found his way to you again. he raised his hand, offering a high-five, which you immediately accepted.

  something about the atmosphere unlocked something inside you. within days, you were welcomed into the community and for the first time in a long time, saw people that could become your actual friends. maybe this was what your grandpa was talking about.

  “yeah,” jungkook added, “it is exciting that you’re around again.”

  “real connections. . .” you muttered to yourself, remembering the contents of your grandpa’s letter.

  the yelling got louder, as the partygoers chanted for seokjin to make a speech. “huh, what did you say?” jungkook shouted over the chanting. 

  “nothing!” 

  you weren’t prepared for the next part of grandpa’s wish for you. it was a surprise to you that you were able to ease into the town and become comfortable connecting with the people around you. at the end of the day, though, you had a farm to run and you were about to face the worst of it. 

  viii. the second storm

your grandpa’s last wishes for you were to reconnect with people and nature. nature. you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.

  “oh my god! why does mother nature hate me?!”

  the best thing about living in a big farmhouse by yourself was the fact that you could make as much noise as you wanted. you often found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs, shrieking like a bird when you came across anything frustrating. considering you were learning an entirely new job on your own, it happened quite often.

  you screamed into the void after your first phone call with a vendor, who kept on asking you if you knew what you were doing. you swore you almost broke your vocal cords when you sunk into the mud the first time you checked out the fields after a rainy night. at least you walked away several metres from the coop before you screeched in agony after the chickens gave you a hard morning on time. 

  when a soft knock on your front door interrupted your emotional breakdown, your heart stopped. 

  “fuck!” you whispered to yourself.

  who would be visiting you? what if it was someone important, like mayor kim? maybe they didn’t hear - no, they definitely heard. 

  you tentatively approached the door and took a deep breathe before swinging it open.

  “i didn’t know you started tending to hyenas on the farm.”

  it was jungkook with a lazy, shit-eating grin. it was early in the morning, about 8am, and he wore workout clothes. baggy grey sweatpants and a white nike tank-top, you felt like you were straining to keep your eyes on his face and not anywhere else. 

  “oh, shut it. good morning to you, too,” you shot back. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

  “sorry, i would’ve texted, but i was already passing by on my run,” jungkook said.

  it’d been about a week since you last saw him, though he was nice enough to check in on you every once in a while to see if you were doing okay with the farm. you hardly left home, used to the same routine of working and going right to bed everyday from your old life and the habit was hard to break. 

  he continued, “anyway, i saw your windows hanging from outside and i just wanted to make sure - “

  you opened the front door wider for him to see the state of your front entryway and his jaw dropped. there was water everywhere on the floor. the storm from the night before was aggressive and the age of the house couldn’t stand it. you didn’t anticipate for it to be this bad, having just shoved the windows closed before you went to bed.

  “yeah, they’re wrecked,” you sighed, looking over to what was left of it, considering most of it was on the ground. “actually, that’s why i was screaming.”

  “you know, i take what i said back. totally justified.”

  “thanks,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. he made a gesture as if to come in and you obliged, carefully stepping aside and making sure you weren’t stepping in a puddle. “i’m surprised this hasn’t happened before.”

  he let out a low whistle, as he walked inside and took in the sight of your floors. “honestly, me neither. you would think this would’ve happened already ages ago.”

  you didn’t know what else to do but shrug. “i can handle it.” despite your words, you certainly could not handle it. there were still a million things you had to take care of around the farm and dealing with broken windows and water was an incredible burden that you didn’t know where to start.

  “shit. look, i have to go to work in a bit, but let me help you out,” jungkook said. 

  you instantly shook your head. “jungkook, no. it’s fine, really, i got it.”

  “you’ve never picked up a screwdriver in your life.”

  “hey, you don’t know that!” you wanted to slap him upside the head like from when you were kids, but found the strength to refrain.

  it was only jokes and jungkook’s smirk showed it, but his tone then became serious. “okay, then, at least let me help you fix your windows. dude, you live alone in this big ass house on this big ass farm. just say yes.” 

  at this point, you could tell he was exasperated with your stubborness and you laughed at it. you weren’t one to turn down someone offering to do manual labour for you, but you were hesitant to show any lack of indepdence. though, something told you to say yes and it wasn’t jungkook’s annoyance with your persistence. 

  “okay, fine. you’re real annoying, you know that?” you had to add in the last part, it was only natural. 

  he shook his head. “thank you - oh, how lucky i am for milady to accept my lousy, peasant self to fix your windows!” at that, you shoved him playfully and when he barely moved from your push, jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. 

  “i know you’re perfectly capable of doing things yourself, by the way. you just shouldn’t have to all the time,” he gave you a pointed look. 

  you nodded slowly, looking down at your feet. “thank you, jungkook.” 

  though it was only 8 in the morning, you decided to take a later start in the day, since you usually woke up at the crack of dawn. you had your entire day ahead of you and what felt like a hundred things to do and the last thing you wanted to add was a trip to the hardware store.

  “of course,” he carefully tiptoed around the water, moving back to the front door. “it’s what friends are for. i’ll come by tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”

  this is not what you meant when you decided to “reconnect with nature” at all. with your fluffy indoor slippers soaked in rainwater, you were certainly more than connected with it. you made a mental note to visit the beach and call it a day, hoping that would fulfill your grandpa’s wish for you to be one with mother earth and that the forces of nature would leave you alone after that.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822 @seokoutt @firelcrds @taiwan0618

[osric-giroux-ffxiv]

Looking For Contact - Osric Giroux

Art by @robasarel

×—ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ—×

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Osric Giroux (formerly Slater - for a brief period of time, Cress)

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ / ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪꜰʏ: Male

Ʀᴀᴄᴇ: Midlander // Hyur

ᴀɢᴇ: 32

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: 22nd Sun of  the 4th Umbral Moon

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ: Ishgard

ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Ishgardian

×—ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ—×

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 6’0”

ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ: Athletic/Muscular

ʜᴀɪʀ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: Black

ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: Blue

ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ: 1) A small scar on the right side of his face, along his jawline (difficult to see if he is not clean shaven); 2) In the center of his chest - it appears surgical in nature; 3) Several well healed small scars along his back.

ᴄʟᴇᴀɴʟɪɴᴇꜱꜱ / ɢʀᴏᴏᴍɪɴɢ: Osric keeps himself well groomed and well dressed - growing up in circumstances where appearances were paramount, it was a message that was all but beaten into him. He was to look the part of perfection, even if he was reminded that he was far short of it at every possible opportunity. His only small act of rebellion in that regard may be keeping the stubble - but that started during his time as a mercenary and he found he had a preference for it.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴅᴀʏ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ: Dark blues and blacks - he’s no longer part of the noble class and so he’s perfectly content to dress in more comfortable clothing, but also something appropriate to the climate he’s in. 

ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱᴏʀɪᴇꜱ: A pair of earrings, occasionally a watch - there’s not much extra he wears. He doesn’t feel a need for it. 

×—ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ—×

ᴀʟʟᴇʀɢɪᴇꜱ: None of note

Ɪʟʟɴᴇꜱꜱᴇꜱ: None of note

ᴅɪꜱᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ: None of note

ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟꜱ: Fairly high, and fairly consistent. He has things to get done that have to get done and there’s no one to rely on but himself.

ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ: Food is the first thing to get neglected if he’s busy or distracted. He may only get one meal in if things start to get hectic. It’s an issue he’s aware of - and sometimes he catches it, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does eat, it’s healthy food - he’s a very talented cook - which isn’t something a majority of the people in his life know about him. 

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ: He tends to be up early - that was something that started with his training, but getting to bed early is hit or miss. He’ll ruminate,  that will keep him up, and so sleep can be hit or miss, depending on what’s happening in his life. 

ꜰɪᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ: Very - whether it’s training with the wolves or simply keeping up with the type of training he used to do as a Dragoon - he’s not one to neglect training for long. 

×—ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ—×

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ / ᴇxᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ: Introvert

ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ: Leans Melancholic 

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ: He tends to have a more passive style - a result of growing up in a household where he was not permitted to have a voice and was invalidated at every turn. 

ɢᴏᴀʟꜱ / ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ: To have a family, a place, a purpose. All grand and vague - but as he starts over he’s having to re-establish what his goals are yet again. 

ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜꜱ: Loyal, empathetic, willing to do whatever is necessary or possible for those he cares for, resilient (even if he doesn’t see it)

ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱᴇꜱ: Stubborn, internalizes a good number of things, tends to personalize, loyal to a fault

ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ: Being alone for the rest of his life, his children growing to hate him, being replaced, not being good enough (never being good enough)

Qᴜɪʀᴋꜱ / ᴛɪᴄꜱ: Rubbing the back of his neck when nervous or anxious, rubbing the scar in the center of his chest when overwhelmed

ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ: He was responsible for burning Bleakpoint to the ground after the Ashen Wolves mission to the village. He was also responsible for the death of a captain for the organization Chimera. He's also directly responsible for the death of Kenward Slater - for which he felt no remorse.

Ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜱ: More than one can list on this page. 

×—ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ɪ—×

ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ: Camilla Slater (Deceased)

ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ: Kenward Slater (though this is not the individual listed on his birth certificate) (Deceased)

ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ(ꜱ): Benedict Slater (is the individual listed as his father on his birth certificate) (Deceased)

ꜱɪʙʟɪɴɢ: Edalene Slater

ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ: Idalia and Evran* Cress

×—ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ɪɪ—×

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ / ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Heterosexual

ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Single - recently divorced

ꜱᴘᴏᴜꜱᴇ: N/A

ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ / ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ(ꜱ): N/A

ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ(ꜱ): N/A

Acquaintances: (His ex-wife) Vahalia Cress, Valeria Cress, Carrera Blackheart, Hyaka Taka, Castien Bancroft, Cyrus Black, Nijah Wolff, Dawn Aethwyn

ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴꜱ: Freyja, Tyr, and Vidar - All wolves who are present on his property in the Coerthan Highlands.

×—ʟɪꜰᴇꜱᴛʏʟᴇ—×

ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Former Dragoon, then mercenary - transitioning to training wolves

ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ: Middle

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ: A home in the Coerthan Highlands

ᴠɪᴄᴇꜱ: Alcohol

ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴏʀ ʟᴏɴᴇʀ: More of a loner

ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ / ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ: N/A - he fell away from any type of faith/religion after leaving Ishgard initially several years ago.

×—Hooks—×

Ishgardian Nobility - Osric grew up in and around Ishgard’s nobility. After several years away he returned to the fold and only recently stepped away after his divorce. If you’ve spent some time within those self-same circles you may have come across him from time to time. 

Military Service - As was expected of him, Osric was part of the military force defending Ishgard, a former Dragoon, prior to abruptly leaving under undisclosed circumstances. If one was part of the service during the same time period there’s the off chance that you’ve crossed paths.

Wandering Mercenary - After leaving Ishgard, Osric worked with different mercenary groups without settling with any particular group until the last four years. This led to him meeting a significant number of people, albeit only briefly, as he rarely stayed in one place for more than a few days.

Changing Paths - A recent near death experience, his divorce from his now ex-wife, and the birth of his children (all within a handful of months) have led Osric to re-evaluating and making some changes. He’s moved away from fighting on the front lines and has moved towards a supportive role - in either developing and training troops (which he was assisting with prior to the divorce) and now in breeding and training wolves to assist in battle or simply for protection. 

×—OOC—×

A bit about what I’m looking for:

18+ is a must 

In-game RP or Google docs (or whatever platform one prefers to use rather than Google docs) is preferable - Discord can be utilized as a last resort if necessary.

Active and clear communication (For a variety of different reasons, whether that’s in regards to boundaries and preferences or for scheduling purposes -ie - my work schedule can be a bit hectic and clear communication makes setting things up, especially in game things, much easier.)

To engage and collaborate, with the main goals being character growth, engagement and really…to have fun. 

Any interest in getting to know Osric a bit better feel free to poke me here or in game if you see me, as I’m always open to discussing possibilities.

[water-lemon-alex]

⭐️💡

more of needlestar because i have been clinically insane for them for four years or smth + personal designs

+ hcs i have stuck on my notes app from a year ago (there is a lot i am not sane for them)

they’re both fans of hatsune miku ; upbeat was a fan because of her music, play-yan on the other hand… he may blast miku music from the sky.

follow up ; they have both dressed as miku at least once (in play’s case, people drew him as miku back in the day, and for upbeat is that one ievan polkka custom remix) and probably took a picture with a miku standee together (your interpretation)

they would sometimes watch smash tournaments together, but once they watch a tournament where their favorites/mains are up against each other, that’s a different story.

their first meeting was a chance encounter. upbeat was trying to find a place to calm down at night, which was in an unknown area in a forest, then play found him during a night walk. but little did they know they would be seeing each other way more often since that night

they never skip leg day.

a more obvious one, but once fused together, they could possibly resemble a stepswitcher because of their similarities ; play-yan as the light half and upbeat as the dark half. this also happens if they have a child together

play-yan would sometimes stop by the workplace where the other endless game / rhythm toy characters are. he gets along really well with love-san.

marshal has looked up to the both of them so much that he asked them for advice. he didn’t really mean to steal play-yan’s spotlight , but more on being inspired by him. play thinks otherwise, though.

play does NOT know how things in earth world works (other than basic things like doors and of course, balloons). he once went to the store without any money. upbeat notices this and buys him a snack and some soda out of spite

despite this, play-yan is a tech nerd. why else is he a media player /silly

transmasc upbeat and he/they nonbinary play-yan i don’t make the rules /silly

being miku fans, they also played project sekai before. play’s favorite unit is leo/need while upbeat’s is nightcord

play-yan is definitely a kirby fan. also mr. upbeat is canonically a fan of mr. game and watch

they had a chance encounter at a miku concert before. probably miku expo

upbeat has an apartment on the 4th floor with a balcony that has a good view of the night sky. play-yan makes sure to visit him every night (and when i mean night i mean 3 in the morning. upbeat doesn’t mind this at all.)

whenever play-yan doesn’t visit however, he just leaves those little heart flowers instead. maybe a yellow umbrella on a rainy day

they both have pets! play-yan has a cat (from the old promotional art for the play-yan media player) and upbeat has a bird (from the unused cuckoo clock rhythm test that became a base for the mr. upbeat endless game)

whenever mr. upbeat’s monkey watch is under maintenance, he talks to play-yan instead.

it was play-yan’s idea to give upbeat some pins on his head

little did they know they are gonna be the founders of the stepswitcher species /silly

[rafeinterlude]

𓂃ㅤ⭑. Exterior Gambles

Summery : basically the hunger games with outer banks characters !!

Warnings : none for now

mood board : ⛏️

a/n (1) this is my first time seriously writing a fanfic so be nice, tell me if there’s any grammar errors !!

Words : 567 ( I thought it would be more 😞 )

  CHAPTER 1 : 𓂃. ㅤ Reaping Day : District 12 (JJ MAYBANK)

   It was reaping day, July 4th. A day every 12 to 18-year-olds across the 12 districts dreads, until the day they wishfully turn 19 to finally be free from the horrible tradition that haunts every family. Then the freshly 19-year-old focuses on demanding, mind-numbing work in the districts. 

Like everyone else throughout District 12, Jj Maybank awoke in his ancient unsteady bed with paper-thin covers. Thoughts of what the day would bring clouded everyone's mind. It was quiet in a coal-filled district, normally on a day off he would hear loud children playing outside in sunshine hidden by gray trees and people selling in The Hob, Jj would be there seeing what was for sale so he could feed himself and his dad (if he’s feeling generous). But of course not today when the peacekeepers are on high alert getting ready for the annual reaping.

Jj had to get dressed up nicely with a warn-down suit from his cousin, it was mandatory to dress up for the ‘special’ event as the Capitol put it. Which was his least favorite part of the reaping (other than getting chosen but he didn’t want to think about that possibility, what would his dad do without him? he would sincerely die without his only son taking care of him even though he didn’t appreciate it but what was he supposed to do? it’s his father.)

After he bathed the most he had in months and put on his ‘appealing’ clothes he headed out with the rest of the district getting a sharp sting on the tip of his index finger which turned into a scar after it had been redone for 4 years. Then he went into the line of other 16-year-old boys most of whom he recognized from school and The Hob but noone he was willing to talk to and they were waiting just like the rest of the district to see what 2 people would be torn from their families and closest friends.

Jj looked up at the overdressed woman who walked across the stage and stood behind the microphone in between the 2 fish bowls with everyone’s names from 12-18. She had the weirdest accent he’d ever heard and had the most ridiculous makeup he’d ever seen (before her he had never even seen makeup before) caked onto her face which was especially horrible even more than last year.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor," she called out to everyone anxiously watching her, teens wanting to know if they'll be alive next year and parents in anticipation to see if their children will be safe.

"Ladies first," the exotic-looking woman said then walking over to the female bowl and swooshing around with her hand over the hundreds of names of innocent children before picking one up taking it over to the microphone, and said,

“Eris Vapser,” The 13-year-old girl with grayish blue eyes that perfectly matched the sky and dark umber hair whom Jj had only seen her a handful of times before, as she gingerly walked towards the stage with everyone staring at her seeing her stood to the right of the announcer close to tears.

“And now for the boys!” she happily shrieked and seemingly snail-walked over to the male bowl of names, she picked one up and shouted..

“Jj Maybank!,’ she yelled across the district.

a/n : (2) i know that cannonitcly Pope is richer then John b but it would just make sense if he was in district 11, also i’ve watched all of obx and read/ watched all of the hunger games so that means… I will probably get so many things wrong so.. don’t expect everything to be perfect. ( also kinda based on Crimson Rivers on a03 by zeppazariel ) ALSO ALSO some direct quoting but that’s only for the reaping. Popes perspective will be next !!

tags : @haven247 @hewwokitti @redhead1180 @rafecameroninterlude @lustnluv @rafesbimbo & thank you for beta reading (i changed it up a bit) @rafecameronsgun

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

Happy 4th December - No, we are not there yet

Sorry in advance, this is a bit of rant, which is not something I usually post. But it's a wet Monday morning and I've had a really frustrating weekend, and today, on this anniversary of maybe the biggest piece of gaylor lore, the pictures and headlines I'm seeing just tipped me over the edge into a rant.

So, on this 4th December 2023 it is 9 years to the day that the world woke up to grainy pictures and videos of Taylor Swift, the world's most famous popstar and America's ultimate good girl, allegedly kissing a woman at a 1975 concert. And the tabloids and social media went crazy over it. And not in a good way. I remember the way I felt, so very nauseated about reading words like 'lesbian affair', 'shocking' and 'fling', not just on Taylor and Karlie's behalf, but the way it made me feel about myself, too. I was brutally reminded that 'lesbian' in 2014 was still seen as a dirty word and society's default was to see sapphic relationships as something scandalous and a fall from grace, rather than something beautiful. To this day I look at this photo and can't help but feel awed by the love and intimacy that their body language exudes, but the world didn't see it that way, they were just obsessing over whether they kissed or not and how to spin that into a dirty story.

That was almost a decade ago. So, have we made progress? Is it all fixed and every queer person (especially artists and celebrities) can live authentically and freely? Well, no, of course not, as was possibly proven again this weekend by Billie Eilish, who confirmed that she is gay (more or less unplanned) in an interview. Nobody should be surprised as she was never subtle about her queerness, yet it cost her over 100,000 social media followers in just 24 hours after explicitly coming out. Being gay, especially for women, is only acceptable when mainstream society don't have to see it. Don't talk about it and God forbid, don't kiss in public. Never mind that straight people do it all the time. The very same tabloid paper that printed kissgate pictures with the word 'shocking' next to them, put Taylor on the cover two years later and described her romance with Tom Hiddleston as 'exciting' and 'sexy'. And on the very morning I see the tweet about Billie, I find this message in my inbox:

Why indeed...? And I was of course expecting Taylor to show up at another football game, but to see her looking somber in a Carol-esque red fur coat, while her partner and all her friends are having a lovely time in LA... it just makes me angry today. Yes, maybe we've made progress in same ways, but we are still so far from where we need to be for everyone to be able to come out without repercussion. In a better world, Taylor would have been in a gorgeous dress next to her wife, rather than sitting next to the girl who would have bullied us in High School.

(And btw, not only was Rebel Wilson blackmailed into coming out by the Sydney Morning Herold, she has lost thousands of followers and has pretty much focused on film making rather than acting since coming out. Maybe this was always her plan, but also, maybe not. Interesting, that film making is also seemingly becoming Taylor's second career leg...)

So, anon who sent me the question above, take this as my answer. Why is the most famous popstar in the world not out in 2023? Most likely because it would cost her so much of what she's worked hard for over the last 17 years. Not withstanding that the answer may also be 🛴 and what he did in 2019 that prevented her from coming out then, the world is just not a very good place for a celebrity to be anything other than straight, white and cisgender. And after 10 years of activism in LGBTQ+ organisations, today I feel a bit deflated by that. But with every single person who feels brave enough to shout their truth from the rooftops, we break down the walls a little more each time. 🌈

[leggerefiore]

Back in your inbox to discuss Cyrus bullshit again lmfao. I am normal. Totally normal.

So media literacy decline aside (no really, the reports are scary, less people can interpret nuance and hints), I blame 1) how young most of us were when we first played the games, 2) the OG Diamond and Pearl characterization (because it was a little different than Platinum's) and 3) the Pokemon Anime.

Largely skipping over the age thing because it speaks for itself. A good number of players were probably too young to catch all of the hints or grasp how irrational and emotionally driven Cyrus really was. Like, a legit Trauma Meter for our age group (20s) would be to ask if Cyrus freaked them out, or if they thought he had a point. Whatever the collective's first impression was would've colored YEARS of discussion and content. And I'm pretty sure I remember his reception being negative. Of course, the theory that he wrote the old notebook and that the old man was his Grandpa (meaning Cyrus was an abuse/neglect survivor) always existed. But before USUM and PokeMas added more implications, they were treated as "Just Theories" or after Platinum, retcons. Likewise, I think a good number of the older players WANTED Cyrus to be evil, so they kinda ignored it. Though there was an equal faction WISHING for a well written Sympathetic Villian. They missed Giovanni and had little hope GameFreak could write a worthwhile sympathetic villian because while Maxie and Archie weren't evil, their plan was just so stupid? Maybe it's because I grew up in a rural area at the start of the Going Green era, but I can remember being taught basic ecosystems in like 3rd or 4th Grade Science and learning that major changes to the environment were bad? And they were supposed to be super smart scientists?

On to game characterization, D/P Cyrus and Platinum Cyrus were portrayed slightly differently and I don't know if it was intentional or not, given how subtle the changes in the overall story were. But it boils down to a matter of A Means to an End, where D/P Cyrus seemed like he was changing the world to become a God, while Platinum Cyrus wanted to change the world and has to become a God to do so. Likewise, I don't think the implications that Cyrus was the abused/neglected grandson of that Old Man and the author of the old notebook were as strong. Also every scene with Cyrus in the Distortion World didn't exist in D/P so you didn't witness his breakdown or him admitting to his own faults. Charon/Pluto also wasn't in D/P, nor was the Rotom Room which was the first thing to give the "Cyrus wrote the Old Notebook Theory" any credibility.

My last reason was the Poke Anime and I talked a bit about it in a comment the other day. I have since looked it up and the D/P Anime aired the same day as the D/P Game Release, in Japan at least. So the 2nd most prevalent and remembered version of Cyrus is an ASS. The Anime did a great job of showing us the double life he was living, smiling and dressing/acting normal, albiet hammy, in front of Cynthia and that one old lady. But for a cold, stoic villian, he was super agressive, loud, short-tempered and dismissive in the anime. In that clip you shared, he wasn't calmly explaining why fighting was useless, he was about to snap on his admins. He yelled at someone else to (Ash I think). So it didn't even do a good job of portraying him as the kind of villian he was supposed to be, though this may have been because the series ended in 2011, so it may have been affected by the Platinum retcons.

But yeah, I'm also kinda sad about how people see Cyrus, but it isn't surprising. For everyone who "grew out of" pokemon or just never played Platinum, USUM, PokeMas or BDSP, they have to go back and relearn everything and not everyone does that. Nor will everyone want to because again, some people wanted Cyrus to be genuinely evil. And even if they do want to learn what changed and are open to it, they have to sift through years of content saying he was actually that bad.

It was a nightmare explaining to two of my homies why I was suddenly trying to write fanfic and draw fanart of him because they didn't get the memo.

Quick correction - It is not a theory that the old man is Cyrus's grandpa. It's confirmed from my understanding. Which it means Cyrus is likely an abuse victim (though, what Cyrus was going through was never entirely specified. Just that it was bad enough to concern his grandfather.)

I will note that his characterisation did change between Diamond-Pearl and Platinum (and now BDSP has introduced younger people to the pre-Platinum story), so I will give them that. But specifically, I was on the USUM battle theme still seeing it. (Interestingly, not at all on the BDSP rendition, though. Maybe because it's just Sinnoh fans who already know everything.) One of the top comments was ironically a joke about him seeing the Rotom Dex and wanting to kill everyone.

I think his character is really just generally misunderstood because of how subtle everything was is what I was originally trying to say. Like you said, some of it is general literacy issues. It just makes me sad to see him so misunderstood... I think Game Freak did a really good job writing him. Though, he does clearly read as emotional in both Diamond-Pearl and Platinum. At least, seeing his little chibi march up to you in BDSP after you ruin his plans really shows how emotional he truly is. While the Rotom Room journal is clearly only a theory, I do truly think he is the only logical character who fills that role so well. (Charon 100% would use Cyrus's childhood trauma journal for its precious Rotom research without a doubt seeing how quick he was to try to take over Team Galactic.)

I am glad that they gave him depth rather than just making him a generic bad guy... Actually, considering that Platinum was just before BW (well, a few years but development wise, I mean), I think it might have been their first steps into more character driven plots. I do hope people end up looking more into Cyrus, but I know he isn't the most popular villain at all. (I believe that crown goes to either Archie or Guzma. Or. Well. Lusamine, actually, probably.)

I convinced my friend by telling her about the Rotom Room stuff, actually. She already liked Cyrus since she is super into Sinnoh, but apparently, learning that he was besties with Rotom when he was a child sold her. Now she bravely helps me write for him sometimes lmao. My other friend, however... She still doesn't believe that he's actually 27.

Granted. Youtube comment section opinions should probably always be discarded.

Except maybe... This one. This is the only good and acceptable one lmao

[hooked-on-elvis]

⚡ONE NIGHT IN ELVIS' LIFE⚡ ELVIS with members of the British fan club in Las Vegas, at the Las Vegas Hilton International Hotel, on September 4, 1972 (before his dinner show that night, 8:15pm) + some other interesting things about that night, including 'Aloha From Hawaii' press conference N.1, the Aug-Sept 1972, Vegas season, and an overview on Elvis' 60s/70s fandom outside U.S.

The Elvis fans: Janet Barker, Alan Trower and Tony Prince, from England, and Gitt Nymand and May Britt Berlind, from Sweden.

Below is a picture of Tony Prince with EP on the same day, September 4, 1972. Tony appears in the movie "Elvis: That's The Way It Is", the original/theatrical version from 1970.

That was Elvis' closing night at the Hilton - I love how he's wearing his 'Aloha' necklace. I call it that way because he wore it on the two 'Aloha from Hawaii' press conferences in 1972. Actually, that's because the first 'Aloha From Hawaii' press conference was held that very night, between Elvis' dinner and midnight concerts, at the Hilton Hotel. Note that EP is seeing at first wearing a black jacket. His fan said he met with the fans then quickly went into his dressing room and came back to talk to them again when he was no longer wearing the black jacket (and we can see he is no loner wearing the necklace too), so he probably was making time to change to his first (dinner) concert while at the same time he was meeting his fans.

That means on September 4, 1972, Elvis schedule included at least: Performing two hour-long concerts, meeting his fans, giving all the attention he was known to give to them, and talking to the press about his upcoming big, historical concert for 1973. I'm tired just talking about it! He is indeed the King.⚡ Also, talk about how Elvis changed his outfit in a single day! My god! All breathtaking outfits tho. ♥

This is Elvis during the first 'Aloha From Hawaii' Press Conference - September 4, 1972 – at the Las Vegas Hilton International Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada. This press conference was held between his dinner and midnight concerts.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AUG 4 - SEPT 4, 1972, VEGAS SEASON

Elvis opened his 7th season in Las Vegas, at the Las Vegas Hilton International Hotel, holding two shows every day for a month, (except for the opening night when he performed only one evening concert) beginning in August 4th. The season ended on September 4th, 1972.

Pictures 1-5: Opening concert, August 4, 1972. EP's wearing his “White two-piece suit with aqua pockets” with the Turquoise Concho suit belt. Pictures 6-7: Closing concert, September 4, 1972. Elvis is wearing his "Lucky Suit" (A.K.A "Blue Swirl/Clover Leaf" jumpsuit) with the Blue Macrame belt.

I love how he begins and closes this engagement wearing blue. ♥

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here are some details of the fan meeting during Elvis' closing night at the Hilton Hotel in Sept 4, 1972, as provided by Rex Martin*:

Todd [one of the European fans] and the others was sitting in Colonel Parker's booth (and the next one), when Parker came and took them thru a side door to the left of the showrooms stage. Just after this Tom Diskin talked to two girls sitting next to the stage (far right of centre); he asked them where I was sitting. I was with Virginia Coons and the girls front row balcony (far right), under the funky angels. Tom [Diskin] waved for me to meet him downstairs. We went through a door between Emelio's office, and the showroom entrance. Into the lounge (behind and below the back of the showrooms stage). I arrived a few minutes after Todd's party. A few minutes later, Elvis walked in. A small B&W TV was monitoring the opening acts, up high in the lounge (no sound); the Sweets Inspirations was on most of the time we were backstage (for about 8 minutes in total). During the meeting Elvis left the room for a very short time (his dressing room was a door almost opposite the lounge). He returned clutching 6 folded Emerald Green Scarfs, and had removed his jacket.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Note: One thing came to my mind. Considering how Elvis was dressed for the 2nd 'Aloha From Hawaii' press conference, held in the Hilton Hawaiian Village at Honolulu, Hawaii, on November 20, 1972, I guess during the fan meeting at the Hilton Hotel he was pretty much dressed up and ready for the first 'Aloha' press conference to be held that same day but last minute he might have decided to change his outfit from the black one to the white one he actually wore for the 1st 'Aloha' press conference. It looks like he 'saved' (?) that one dark suit for the Hawaii press conference because he is dressed that day pretty much the same way he was during the fan meeting on Sept 4, as we can see in the pictures. Or maybe, most likely, he was just trying the outfit options (wardrobe test) for the press conferences before he met the European fans in Vegas that September 4, 1972 evening, and opted for the white one to the 1st 'Aloha' press conference in the end. Those are just my theories, I don't know. Those similar outfits may confuse the fans on the date the pictures were taken, if does for me. 🫠

Aloha From Hawaii Press Conference - November 20, 1972 – Hilton Hawaiian Village, Honolulu, Hawaii.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

⭐ About Rex Martin, Elvis' "super fan" and how he helped disseminating Elvis to the fans outside U.S. in the 60s/70s⭐

Back in the days when internet was not even in people's imaginary, the passionate Elvis fans that got to be closer to their idol were the responsible ones for keeping his other fans outside US updated about what was going on in the King's life/career.

Side note: That's so interesting. I remember I saw an interview with Ernst Jorgensen (one of the responsible people, the top one actually, for the Elvis FTD albums. He's an Elvis expert, a long term fan, and he's also a Grammy-nominated reissue producer, dedicated archivist, seasoned researcher and acclaimed author of one of the pivotal books to Elvis Presley's legacy, 'A Life in Music', which is an essencial book on Elvis' whole career, all the recording sessions and every detail you can possibly imagine), and in that one interview, Ernst spoke about the importance of Elvis' musical films, as they were the only way for fans outside the United States to get to know Elvis' music and performance in the 60s, which is very interesting since many people criticize Elvis' movie career.

Without those fans, those passionate fans that willingly took it as a delightful task to keep the fans outside the US updated about EP's career, maybe Elvis wouldn't be so big outside US (oh, that's not possible. No, he would be big regardless of the amount of info people got about him in the 50s-70s, actually, but his fan base maybe would have been considerably smaller during those decades, outside America, considering people wouldn't be 'fed' with news about him so frequently). Rex Martin was this one person who did feed the England/European fans with news about Elvis Presley.

Rex Martin saw Elvis in concert more than 60 times and, as one of the most influential publishers in the Elvis world, he amassed an incredible photo and audio-visual library. Rex Martin and his legendary publication, the Worldwide Elvis News Service Weekly, were an integral part of how fans "got their Elvis news" in the late 1960s and 1970s. The 'Weekly News Service' represented a fundamental shift in both the frequency and currency of fan's access to Elvis news around the world. Source: https://www.elvisinfonet.com/rexmartin_info.html

REX MARTIN'S - ELVIS PRESLEY WEEKLY NEWS SERVICE - August 1971 issues.

Sadly, Rex passed away in 2008. Rest in peace, Rex. I'm sure there's lots of Elvis fans that are profoundly grateful for all you've done. ♥

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.S.:This post begun only with the intention of publishing Elvis meeting with his fans in September 4th, 1972. That was the only thing I wanted to share: the pictures of the fan meeting. Then you read and you read, and one thing led to another and... now the post includes, the fan meeting, Elvis' engagement at the Hilton on Aug to Sept 1972, his European fans and how important Elvis' movies were to the fans outside U.S. and the 'Aloha from Hawaii' press conference N°1. Phew. That is what it means being an Elvis fan. You have endless topics to research and talk about. If I continue digging deeper into it, there's many other things to talk about on each of those subjects. I know it for sure, actually. I simply wrote an overall look on things.

[jortschronicles]

Coronet V: Sheep and Bears

Armiger Runa Bjarki fought for me at Vindheim's fifth coronet tournament, after fighting for me for the first time at Vindheim's fourth coronet tournament.

This will be a bit more of a costuming diary than anything, detailing my process from design, to drafting, to learning new arts, to the finished project, and what I learned along the way.

Our arrangement began prior to Vindheim's 4th coronet tournament, arranged by my wife and Runa's teacher much in the style of an arranged marriage. Runa would fight for me in exchange for me making our coronet garb, giving me an excuse to step up my garb game and enjoy some pomp and circumstance and giving Runa a growing closet of fancier garb. Our arrangement stipulated that I get to make Runa wear Pink, sometimes at least.

Our first outfits were pink and orange with black accents, which is TECHNICALLY Vindheim colors (dark Or, light gules, and sable :P) and includes the pink and orange which I have become associated with in the kingdom. These outfits would not have been possible without Dvorianka Anastasiia and Boiarynia Koia, who loaned me veils and undergowns, gave me instructions on drafting and assembly, and zhuzhed me incessantly day of to make sure the Rus impression was both up to their standards of accuracy and made me feel pretty.

A fun fact about this procession, we were the first ostensibly f/f entrant couple in a Vindheim coronet tournament, we were dressed as lesbian flags, and our procession was riddled with pride flags. Overall, a good day.

I created the following patterns for Runa's and my outfits, respectively:

Our arms:

Time passed, the second coronet tournament was fast approaching, and per our agreement, the next set of outfits would be Vindheim/ Free Company / Runa's own colors. Rather than struggling with pens and sketching over and over and over, this time I simply made "dress up dolls" in GIMP to present design ideas to my fighter, which included the following:

I cannot recommend this process enough. I just sketch outlines of my design on paper, upload into GIMP, adjust levels and brightness, then set the alpha channel to white. Under the lines layer, I make a series of layers in neon colors of each of the "sections" of color I might want to adjust, which allows me to bucket fill to make different designs.

After selecting a design, I obtained stamp carving supplies and sent them to Runa for her to carve my fleece and her bear, the animate charges in our arms, to be applied to the final product.

I commissioned trim by trade from a local to me, Lady Kenda, to accent the borders of the red facings. I only asked for 6 yards. This would prove to be a mistake, although the trim itself was LOVELY

My first attempts to use the stamps were...fraught. Many inappropriate jokes were made about the sheep, in particular. Koia and Anastasiia troubleshooted the problem remotely and provided better paint, respectively, resulting in the superior stamping on the right.

Not a single picture I've taken captures the depth and warmth of the brown in the bears, unfortunately. In natural light, they're clear, vibrant, and a warm coffee brown. In every photo i've taken, they're barely there. With stamping conquered, so began the cutting, serging, and assembly.

I used the crimson and the black linen from OKC fabric market, which are both soft, mid-weight linens with an apparently short staple, but are plenty affordable for my needs. After cutting and labeling all t he pieces with chalk, I ran them through the serger to keep the pieces from fraying while I work. This also let's me be lazy and not do any seam finishing at the end of the proecess, when I may be very pressed for time.

I prefer to attach the two body pieces at the shoulders and apply the neck facing ASAP, as it's easier to cut and turn before the entire tunic is assembled. I also attached the facing to the cuffs before attaching the cuffs. I lay everything flat, attaching gores to the sides of the gown and tunic, then I run one seam each up from the hem to the cuff. The exception to this is the side on which I include my pocket, since I like to have my phone, emergency meds, eye drops, and lip balm on me at events. Runa's tunic does not have this pocket, but her pants have both the cell phone pocket and the Jameson pocket. I should make a post about these pants at some point ;)

I didn't bother turning in the edges on much of the facings of my gown, anticipating applying trim over the top. Then I looked at how much trim I had left, and quickly decided to trim both of our sleeves, the bottom of my skirt, and the neck facing on Runa's tunic.

To the places I did not actually add trim, I embroidered the edge with a tacked herringbone stitch to add visual interest. Luckily, it turns out this particular design delights my fighter, is fairly strong, and has a very pleasant texture to the little hamsters in the brain.

Overall, I'm incredibly satisfied with this result and look forward to wearing so much Rus in the future. I finally feel comfortable enough with the construction of both of these tunics to offer them on commission locally.

Some more glamor shots:

Endless thanks to Dvorianka Anastasiia Dmitrieva Sokolova and Boiarynia Koia Karasova, my Rus Mamas and tolerators of many midnight questions about stamping and styling.

So what am I on to next? Med Fair cotehardies. I'm currently handsewing the supportive underdress for my own impression. Fingers crossed I maintain my sanity!!

[camusscigarette]

Gimmie the Bedelia and Hannibal Headcannons 😈

Hannibal and Bedelia and their life as Parents:

Inspiration :Vous, you, toi, @starlight-nerd

Now, imagine Bedelia didn't have an abortion (reference to God knows what part of the Florence HCs), she would still hide the pregnancy from Hannibal. She's pregnant, she's anxious, he killed two people before her eyes she couldn't help but worry she might be next. So what if he ate her and her unborn child? No Bedelia would go insane.

She hid the pregnancy for two months. Fainted on the 4th,actually, late 4th almost at the beginning of her 5th month of pregnancy. They had an opera. No dress would zip fully. She wore a shape wear and a corset. Silly of her to think she's survive in the corset when her dress already had an imbedded corset as well. She fainted. I mean, to be fair, they had a wedding in plain daylight, everything smelled too floral,the sun was Killing her, and she the glass of champagne she had in hand to make it seem like she's drinking was drowning her poor nostrils. Oh, and she was on an empty stomach.

When he found out he gave her the silent treatment. Even when she cried and explained why she did what she did, he still gave her silence. He needed time to.process things. But don't confuse silence with neglect. Oh no. He was overprotective. He watched over her. Made her more Gelato because she has been eating those. the most during her first four months That disgusting craving of Vanilla ice cream with olive oil and sea salt. (His heart broke every time he combined those three ingredients in a bowl. Also, I think I started the Bedelia and Gelato cult on accident? Slay). Oh and baths. He wouldn't dare touch her stomach though.

She nagged his ear off when he was giving her silence. It lasted five days. She confronted him on the fifth with pure rage (also because he had messed up her favorite soup and she was utterly heartbroken by the change of flavors). He apologized and took her to bed that night. Spending a few hours in-between her legs and tending to her plum breasts. Because..well ..she grew more sensitive. Think smart not hard guys. (He thought both ways. He was hard all the time hearing her moan like that)

When it came to gender reveal, I know we all collectively agree she'd be a girl. She'd name her after a Targaryen. (Wasn't her idea it was Hannibal as her hair was such a bright colour of golden it looked white in the sun. Daenerys. Her name's Daenerys.)

The first thing they agreed to have in the nursery was a Library

The decoration in there is very.. Angelical.

Her labor was.. difficult. Very difficult. She was in Labor for three days. She refused to tell him she was in Labor. She was terrified. The last month she's been having nightmares about him hurting her and she refused to tell him, she refused to let him in, refused to let him take her to a hospital. She gave birth all on her own. At first, her baby didn't cry, but then, after a few gentle spanks she woke up. Her cries filling the room and that's when she allowed the midwife Hannibal had brought in to come and help.

First few nights were absolutely exhausting, he'd wake up with her and soothe Bedelia back to sleep once their daughter would fall back into slumber herself.

Hannibal took responsibility for her meals when she reached the age recommended for her to start with solids.

Bedelia produced a lot of breast milk, and pumping was exhausting and always left her sore. So...he may or may not have volunteered to soothe her on certain nights (certain? mhmm.....)

She discovered once a photo book of her journey, her pregnancy . Filled with pictures from every months. She keeps it in their private Library.

Hannibal does all the hair braiding. A Targaryen deserves Targaryen braids. He'd tell Bedelia.

Hannibal has a dramatic Victorian portrait of them when Daenerys was a baby. He plans on having a few more done when she's 5, when she's 12 and when she's 17-18. His princess deserves princess treatment.

He got her baptized in an Orthodox Church. To him it was symbolic. Bedelia couldn't care less.

Bedelia is a great mother to her child. She understood her so well. Yet she was slightly overprotective over. A tad bit too much. Afraid that her daughter might get taken advantage of, which is why she tossed away every other hobby and told Hannibal she wants her to take self defense. So they started with Boxing, then Muay Thai and Jiu Jiutsu.

Every once in a while (At the end of every month quite literally), Hannibal would get both Bedelia and Daenerys flowers. Peonies for Bedelia and Hibiscus for Daenerys.

Bedelia taught her how to garden. And how to shoot a gun.

Hannibal taught her how to cook. Unfortunately for him, she loves seafood more just like her mother.

They brought her teachers to teach her more languages. Hannibal spoke to her in Lithuanian sometimes and Bedelia in French. (Though he's learning High Valyrian for the sake of her name)

And that's possibly it? Idk, I'm not used to fluff 😭. Hope you liked it!!!!

[toomanyrobins2]

Forgive Me

Summary: An orphan all her life, Y/N is simply too old to remain at The Bowery Home any longer. That is where an anonymous patron has swooped in to send her off to college and all he requires…a monthly letter of her academic progress.

Based off the book and musical “Daddy Long Legs”

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

last part // series masterlist // next part

Notes: I'm finally getting around to updating this fic! If you would like to catch up and get more consistent updates to this story and others I would go to by AO3!

11th April

Dearest Bats,

Will you please forgive me for the letter I wrote you yesterday? After I posted it I was sorry, and tried to get it back, but that beastly mail clerk wouldn't give it back to me.

It's the middle of the night now; I've been awake for hours thinking what a Worm I am—what a Thousand-legged Worm—and that's the worst I can say! I've closed the door very softly into the study so as not to wake Harriet and Barbara, and am sitting up in bed writing to you on paper torn out of my history notebook.

I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry I was so impolite about your cheque. I know you meant it kindly, and I think you're an old dear to take so much trouble for such a silly thing as a hat. I ought to have returned it very much more graciously.

But in any case, I had to return it. It's different with me than with other girls. They can take things naturally from people. They have fathers and brothers and aunts and uncles; but I can't be on any such relations with any one. I like to pretend that you belong to me, just to play with the idea, but of course I know you don't. I'm alone, really—with my back to the wall fighting the world—and I get sort of gaspy when I think about it. I put it out of my mind, and keep on pretending; but don't you see? I can't accept any more money than I have to, because someday I shall be wanting to pay it back, and even as great an author as I intend to be won't be able to face a perfectly tremendous debt.

I'd love pretty hats and things, but I mustn't mortgage the future to pay for them.

You'll forgive me, won't you, for being so rude? I have an awful habit of writing impulsively when I first think things and then posting the letter beyond recall. But if I sometimes seem thoughtless and ungrateful, I never mean it. In my heart, I thank you always for the life freedom and independence that you have given me. My childhood was just a long, sullen stretch of revolt, and now I am so happy every moment of the day that I can't believe it's true. I feel like a made-up heroine in a storybook.

It's a quarter past two. I'm going to tiptoe out to post this off now. You'll receive it in the next mail after the other; so you won't have a very long time to think bad of me.

Good night, Batman,

I love you always,

Y/N

21st April

Mr. Batman Smith

I received your second letter and I confess I do not know what to do. The proud part of me wants to demand you take this cheque back, but the side of me that knows you are doing it out of the kindness of your heart is holding me back. You have never failed me in your support! I am no different than any other of your sponsees and you have never been remiss in your care. I will keep the cheque this one time but please do not make this a habit for I feel I will be unable to cope with such generosity.

Yours in immense gratitude,

Y/N

 

4th May

Dear Batman,

Field Day last Saturday. It was a very spectacular occasion. First we had a parade of all the classes, with everybody dressed in white linen, the Seniors carrying blue and gold Japanese umbrellas, and the juniors white and yellow banners. Our class had crimson balloons—very fetching, especially as they were always getting loose and floating off—and the Freshmen wore green tissue-paper hats with long streamers. Also we had a band in blue uniforms hired from town. Also, about a dozen funny people, like clowns in a circus, to keep the spectators entertained between events.

Barbara and I weren't in the parade because we were entered for the events. And what do you think? We both won! At least in something. We tried for the running broad jump and lost; but Barbara won the pole vaulting (seven feet three inches) and I won the fifty-yard sprint (eight seconds).

I was pretty panting at the end, but it was great fun, with the whole class waving balloons and cheering and yelling:

What's the matter with Y/N Abbott? She's all right. Who's all right? Y/NAb-bott!

That is true fame. Then trotting back to the dressing tent and being rubbed down with alcohol and having a lemon to suck. You see we're very professional. It's a fine thing to win an event for your class because the class that wins the most gets the athletic cup for the year. The Seniors won it this year, with seven events to their credit.

The athletic association gave a dinner in the gymnasium to all of the winners. We had fried soft-shell crabs, and chocolate ice cream moulded in the shape of basketballs.

I sat up half of last night reading Jane Eyre. Are you old enough to remember sixty years ago? And, if so, did people talk that way? There's something about those Brontes that fascinates me. Their books, their lives, their spirit. Where did they get it? When I was reading about little Jane's troubles in the charity school, I got so angry that I had to go out and take a walk. I understood exactly how she felt. Having known the matron, I could see Mr. Brocklehurst.

Don't be outraged, Bats. I am not intimating that the Bowery Home was like the Lowood Institute. We had plenty to eat and plenty to wear, sufficient water to wash in, and a furnace in the cellar. But there was one deadly likeness. Our lives were absolutely monotonous and uneventful. Nothing nice ever happened, except ice cream on Sundays, and even that was regular. In all the eighteen years I was there I only had one adventure—when the woodshed burned. We had to get up in the night and dress so as to be ready in case the house should catch. But it didn't catch and we went back to bed.

Everybody likes a few surprises; it's a perfectly natural human craving. But I never had one until I was called to the office to tell me that Mr. John Smith was going to send me to college. And then she broke the news so gradually that it just barely shocked me.

You know, I think that the most necessary quality for any person to have is imagination. It makes people able to put themselves in other people's places. It makes them kind and sympathetic and understanding. It ought to be cultivated in children. But the Bowery Home instantly stamped out the slightest flicker that appeared. Duty was the one quality that was encouraged. I don't think children ought to know the meaning of the word; it's odious, detestable. They ought to do everything from love.

Wait until you see the orphan asylum that I am going to be the head of! It's my favourite play at night before I go to sleep. I plan it out to the littlest detail—the meals and clothes and study and amusements and punishments; for even my superior orphans are sometimes bad.

But anyway, they are going to be happy. I think that everyone, no matter how many troubles he may have when he grows up, ought to have a happy childhood to look back upon. And if I “ever have any children of my own, no matter how unhappy I may be, I am not going to let them have any cares until they grow up.

(There goes the chapel bell—I'll finish this letter sometime).

 

Saturday morning

Perhaps you think, last night being Friday, with no classes today, that I passed a nice quiet, readable evening with the set of Stevenson that I bought with my prize money? But if so, you've never attended a girls' college, dear. Six friends dropped in to make fudge, and one of them dropped the fudge—while it was still liquid—right in the middle of our best rug. We shall never be able to clean up the mess.

I haven't mentioned any lessons of late; but we are still having them every day. It's sort of a relief though, to get away from them and discuss life in the large—rather one-sided discussions that you and I hold, but that's your own fault. You are welcome to answer back any time you choose.

I've been writing this letter off and on for three days, and I fear by now vous etes bien bored!

Goodbye, nice Mr. Man,

Y/N

 

2nd June

Dear Batman,

You will never guess the nice thing that has happened.

The Gordons have asked me to spend the summer at their camp in the Adirondacks! They belong to a sort of club on a lovely little lake in the middle of the woods. The different members have houses made of logs dotted about among the trees, and they go canoeing on the lake, and take long walks through trails to other camps, and have dances once a week in the clubhouse—Jimmie Gordon is going to have a college friend visiting him part of the summer, so you see we shall have plenty of men to dance with.

Wasn't it sweet of Mrs. Gordon to ask me? It appears that she liked me when I was there for Christmas.

Please excuse this being short. It isn't a real letter; it's just to let you know that I'm disposed of for the summer.

Yours, In a very contented frame of mind,

Y/N

 The atmosphere in the gentlemen's club was subdued, with low lighting and the occasional murmur of hushed conversations. Bruce and Clark sat in a quiet corner, their focus on the matter at hand - the summer plans for Y/N.

Bruce took a sip of his scotch before broaching the subject. "Clark, I've been thinking about Y/N's summer arrangements. I believe it would be best for her to spend it at Kent Farm, rather than with the Gordons."

Clark raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And why is that, Bruce?"

Bruce hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "It's a safer environment, more secluded. Away from the city, and she seemed to thrive there last year.”

Clark studied Bruce's expression, sensing an underlying motive that went beyond concern for Y/N's well-being. "Bruce, I know you well enough to sense when something else is at play. What's the real reason you want her with my parents?"

Bruce sighed, realizing he couldn't keep his true feelings hidden from someone as perceptive as Clark. "I just don’t think that the Adirondacks with the Gordons is the most appropriate of choices.”

Clark leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Bruce, are you telling me that you want to keep Y/N away from Jimmie?"

Bruce's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I just... I think it would be in her best interest. She's vulnerable, and I don't want her getting involved with someone who might not have her best interests at heart."

Clark leaned forward, his expression serious. "Bruce, you can't control every aspect of her life. Y/N is not a child, and she deserves the freedom to make her own choices. If you're concerned, finally speak with her. Don't make decisions for her."

Bruce sighed, a mix of frustration and concern etched on his face. "I just want to protect her, Clark. I don't want her getting hurt."

Clark placed a reassuring hand on Bruce's shoulder. "I understand, Bruce. But remember, protecting someone doesn't mean controlling their every move. Y/N is strong, and she can handle herself. Trust her to make the right choices and be there to support her when she needs it."

“I’ve already sent the letter saying that she may not attend.”

Clark snorted and rubbed the spot between his eyes, “I’m sure this will go well.”

5th June

Dear Batman,

Your secretary man has just written to me saying that Mr. Smith prefers that I should not accept Mrs. Gordon's invitation, but should return to Kent Farm the same as last summer.

Why, why, why?

You don't understand about it. Mrs. Gordon does want me, really and truly. I'm not the least bit of trouble in the house. I'm a help. They don't take up many servants, and Barbara and I can do lots of useful things. It's a fine chance for me to learn housekeeping. Every woman ought to understand it, and I only know asylum-keeping.

There aren't any girls our age at the camp, and Mrs. Gordon wants me for a companion for Barbara. We are planning to do a lot of reading together. We are going to read all of the books for next year's English and sociology. The Professor said it would be a great help if we would get our reading finished in the summer; and it's so much easier to remember it if we read together and talk it over

Just to live in the same house as Barbara's mother is an education. She's the most interesting, entertaining, companionable, charming woman in the world; she knows everything. Think how many summers I've spent at the Bowery Home and how I'll appreciate the contrast. You needn't be afraid that I'll be crowding them, for their house is made of rubber. When they have a lot of company, they just sprinkle tents about in the woods and turn the boys outside. It's going to be such a nice, healthy summer exercising out of doors every minute. Jimmie Gordon is going to teach me how to ride horseback and paddle a canoe, and how to shoot and—oh, lots of things I ought to know. It's the kind of nice, jolly, carefree time that I've never had; and I think every girl deserves it once in her life. Of course, I'll do exactly as you say, but please, please let me go. I've never wanted anything so much.

This isn't Y/N Abbott, the future great author, writing to you.

It's just Y/N—a girl.

 

9th June

Mr. John Smith,

Sir: Yours of the 7th inst. at hand.

In compliance with the instructions received through your secretary, I leave on Friday next to spend the summer at Kent Farm.

I hope always to remain, 

(Miss) Y/N Abbott

[maxverstepponme]

Let’s breakdown the timeline of these last few weeks or so. (I’m not lazy anon but I am lazy so sorry if I get some dates wrong)

- Sometime the week of the Azerbaijan GP Marina Bay anon and Lens anon show up. This starts a chain of lots of “insider anons” showing up. Some are definitely fake but some seem real

- Kelly posts a video of her and P in New York on the 28th but Steppy finds an ask form the 26th that’s says Kelly’s in New York(days before she ever posted she was there)

- Also on the 28th the Daily Mail released the article and the fake pap pics and are hinting Kelly is attending the Met Gala(Side note: Her bag and shoes are form her friends company and dress from a brand that has affiliate codes with the DM)

- Also sometime around here Deuxmoi posted anon asking if any insiders had anything on Max and Kelly

- Black and White anon makes two appearance on the 28th too. Once to confirm what Marina Bay anon is saying and later to say it was weird how quickly someone wrote into Deuxmoi. (I’m going to be honest I looked through all of Deux’s stories from April and can’t find the actual anon and I don’t remember what it said. Sorry

- I forgot to mention this earlier but a week before the Azerbaijan Gp Kelly was trying to make it seem like her and Max were on a weekend get away but he actually went to Holland for his Heineken sponsorship

- Back to the 29th. Kelly posted her and P in NYC again. This time P is pictured on a faceless man’s shoulder and in a stroller. Lots of discussion about both but K only addresses the stroller thing

- On the 30th an anon is sent saying Victoria unfollowed and re-followed Kelly

- Just Another disappears

- Max comes second in the Azerbaijan GP and Kelly doesn’t make a congrats post

- Max immediately flies back to Monaco after the GP instead of Miami or NYC like people had been speculating

- Black and White anon shows up again this day(Also take these with a gran of salt because who know if it’s the real one. Same of the other one too)

- Lens Anon up again to answer questions.(Lens Anon we need you to come back and give us Miami tea please🙏🏻)

- Yasmin and Nelson Jr both confirm they are going to Miami

- May 1st, Met Monday, lots of discussion on if Kelly is going is she not?

- Sophie comments “💗💗” on Kelly’s post after only 15 minutes

- People say she’s overcompensating for Vic unfollowing Kelly and to shut down rumors

- Kelly goes in a blocking spree after a bunch of comments asking if she cheated on Max

-She deletes all the ones asking if she cheated and if Max broke up with her but leaves the comments asking if she broke up with him(Side note: Steppy also noticed that Kelly had unblocked her but reblocked her even though she never commented or anything)

- Met Gala happens and of course she wasn’t there

- This is where I’m having trouble. I have no clue when Kelly announced the “meet and greet” with PatBo but It seems like it was announced on the 1st(I can’t say for sure)

- On the 2nd Steppy confirms that Marina Bay anon has sent her proof and seems to be real

- Max leaves for Miami and doesn’t land till around 7:00 EST

- Disco Anon shows up and sends proof to confirm that they are real. (Check the #disco anon to see all that was talked about)

- Kelly, Dafne, and Patrica host a PatBo influencers lunch event on the 3rd

- Everyone is talking about how Kelly looks completely different in every picture and how the botox and filters are getting out of hand

- There’s also lots of discussion about how Kelly looks very unhappy and tired and everyone hopes she doing ok

- On the 4th Max gets pap leaving his hotel and it’s the same agency that pap’d him and Kelly in Miami last year and St. Barths the second time

- An anon sends an ask saying they saw Max and Kelly the night before and took pictures with Max but Kelly ignored them. In a later anon they send in two pictures as proof.(Side note: Max and Kelly aren’t interacting in these pictures. The first on is Kelly a few feet in front of him getting in the car and the second is him standing outside of the car and he appears to be talking to a guy I’m pretty sure was Raymond)

- The Kelly meet and greet happened and is seen in a video just awkward standing in the back

- She also only posted 1 or 2 stories from the meet and greet.

- That night the Piquets go out for Sylvia’s birthday and Max isn’t there

- The day after Kelly reportedly ignored a fan multiple people post pictures with them and a “fan” even wrote about how Kelly was really sweet but they say they didn’t want to interrupt her so they waited till she was leaving to ask for pictures but end the message with “and then she went back to get dinner”

- Yesterday the 6th nothing really happened except Kelly went out with Patrica and Dafne and Max wasn’t there again

- Also somewhere in there an anon noticed that Verstappen.com deleted their last post with Kelly

- FINALLY!!! Today the 7th. Max and Kelly didn’t walk in together but Max does walk in with Nelson Jr

- Kelly posts a picture from the RB garage and a weird distorted picture of Max

- Max wins the GP and hugs all of his team and Martin but doesn’t hug Kelly back

-He talks to Martin instead of Kelly and people are saying they’re giving ChaCha in Abu Dhabi vibes

- Kelly posts now 14 stories from the GP when she usually only posts a couple

- Everyone is discussing how it seems like she’s really milking it

Oof Steppy this took me forever. Sorry it’s soooo long and sorry if I messed up any of the dates. I just thought since these last couple of week have been so messy that we need a recap. Imo the vibes for the last few week have been off and the vibes today were off the charts wacky and weird. Definitely still think thinks aren’t right with them and that Kelly is trying to get all she’s can before it’s too late. Anyway have a good night Steppy and Nonnie I’m going to sleep

👀.

Do you want me to tag this?

[fatherfigurefusion]

Introducing you to the cast of Downfall of the Uprising (1/4):

(You might already know the first two characters from my drawings of them, but I have since mentally updated them. If anyone could draw them, I would be so happy!)

***********************************

Arata Kocho

Talent: Ultimate (Criminal) Reformer

Birthday: June 28th (Cancer)

Gender: FTM (he/him)

Sexuality: pansexual

Height: 5 FT 9 IN (175 cm)

Likes: butterflies and gardening

Dislikes: sharp objects and stairs

Appearance: An average build, shaggy dark grey hair that goes past his shoulders and is tied into a side plait (with an ahoge that curves to the left), icy blue eyes with the left one hidden behind an off-white eyepatch, a light grey sweater vest with a darker grey argyle pattern over an off-white dress shirt, dark grey pants, off-black socks, and bluish-grey loafers, an almost-black sidebag with navy blue butterfly designs stitched into it.

Arata gained his title from starting and managing an organization dedicated to the rehabilitation of teenage delinquents. As his title and profession would attest to, Arata is optimistic and a firm believer in the idea that people can always change for the better. This vehement belief of his leads to his dislike for people that are too black-and-white in their mindsets, which leads to Arata treating those that adhere to such beliefs with a more condescending tone. In spite of his beliefs coloring his views on others, Arata always tries to be as polite and kind as possible to everyone, and is willing to give everyone the benefit of doubt, no matter how much they may irk him. According to others, he is noted for having a "calming presence".

***********************************

Seiji Igarashi

Talent: Ultimate Whistleblower

Birthday: February 4th (Aquarius)

Gender: male (he/him)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 3 IN (160 cm)

Likes: punk music and kiwis

Dislikes: cosmetics and politicians

Appearance: An average yet scrawny build, surprisingly-smooth chestnut brown hair with a thin ahoge in the center, green eyes with noticeable bags that appear to glow when emotional, a black blazer with a red logo on the back over an unzipped green hoodie, which is also over a white dress shirt, black and red fingerless gloves, black pants, red and white sneakers.

Famous for his work in exposing various corrupt business owners over the internet, Seiji (also known by his internet handle of JUSTORM) garnered a massive online following of people determined to follow his every move and carry out "justice". Unfortunately, this bold and determined online personality hardly matches Seiji's real life personality. In reality, thanks to spending most of his days holed up in his room, he is rather socially inept and gullible. Because of that, he gets lead by the nose rather often and is easily susceptible to flattery, for, in spite of his awkward personality, he holds his talent with great pride. There are some allegations that Seiji's perception of justice is "childish", "naive", or too "black-and-white", but these allegations hardly hold any water.

***********************************

Hatsue Furukawa

Talent: Ultimate Museum Curator

Birthday: August 10th (Leo)

Gender: female (she/her)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 5 IN (165 cm)

Likes: antique shops and coffee

Dislikes: windy weather and frosting

Appearance: A thin and dainty build, waist-length orange hair that curls into ringlets near the ends, a brown beret on top of her head, brown eyes framed by thin round glasses, a black vest with orange buttons and edges over a white dress shirt and a red tie, black gloves, an orange skirt, black leggings, and brown loafers.

The Furukawa family runs one of the oldest and most popular museums in Japan, with Hatsue functioning as their primary curator, being in charge of both researching and maintaining the museum's many artifacts and exhibits. Because the Furukawas are very close-knit, Hatsue holds family very close to her heart, with that attitude even extending to those she considers friends. But considering her socially-awkward personality, the circle of people she considers to be friends are rather limited, and the leadership that comes with that talent doesn't really extend beyond the museum. Because of her talent, she is highly knowledgable in just about every aspect of history, and would readily jump at the chance to explain all she knows to you. 

***********************************

Hikari Takamine

Talent: Ultimate Athletic Trainer

Birthday: September 1st (Virgo)

Gender: MTF (she/her)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5 FT 6 IN (167 cm)

Likes: steak and bees

Dislikes: smoke and swimming pools

Appearance: A surprisingly scrawny build, midback-length black hair with yellow streaks resembling lightning bolts dyed into it and tied into a high ponytail, golden eyes, a yellow track jacket with black stripes on the sleeves and some additional white and red details over a black sports bra with a simple yellow lightning bolt logo on the front, black athletic shorts, black and yellow sneakers, bandages wrapped around both her arms and legs, has white knee and arm braces.

Garnering fame for her skills in educating and training prospective athletes several years her senior, Hikari is all about the grind and working hard to achieve your dreams, even if she has to be a bit harsh or loud to accomplish this. During tense situations, Hikari takes it upon herself to be the leader and keep everybody else from getting hurt or killed, which means she can be quite overbearing at times. Her strong sense of responsibility means that she takes failure hard and can have difficulty recovering when it seems like she's failed someone. In spite of what her talent would suggest, Hikari is noticeably uncomfortable with undertaking strenuous exercises herself, and would much rather help other people achieve the dreams that she can't. 

***********************************

I'd love to hear your thoughts so far on them!

[cherebun]

[Character Profile - Cheren Viauxcour]

A wonderful template by @alannah-corvaine I saw @snarkyelf do it and wanted to fill it out!

×—ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ—×

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Cherén Viauxcour*

*Cheren's Doman name is currently being reworked. His Eorzean name DOES have the dash above the "e", but im too lazy to do it every time. lol.

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(ꜱ): Cheré, Cherri, Cherechere

ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ(ꜱ): N/A

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ / ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪꜰʏ: Cismale, He/Him

ʀᴀᴄᴇ: Viera (Half Viera, Half Au'ra)

ᴀɢᴇ: 38

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: The 4th Sun Second Umbral Moon (April 4th)

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ: Doma

ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ ꜱɪɢɴ: Menphina, The Lover

ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Previously Doman (...Now Eorzean?)

×—ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ—×

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5"11

ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ: Thin

ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ: He has more feminine proportions than is typical, especially in his thighs and hips, but is overall very thin, almost scrawny. Cheren is regularly mistaken for a woman at first glance!

ʜᴀɪʀ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: Snow white, with hints of pink on the tips.

ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: A bright pink. ((No, not pink eye!!))

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ: Cheren has albinism, lending to extremely pale and sensitive skin. He bruises and blemishes easily, not to mention sunburns.

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴍᴀʀᴋꜱ: White magical star patterns across his skin. They glow brighter and dimmer with the flux of the moon.

ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ: None notable.

ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏꜱ: None.

ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ 🇺​​🇳​​🇮​​🇶​​🇺​​🇪 ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ: Albinism: Extremely Pale, Sun Sensitive, Nystagmus. All of Cheren's hair is white, including his eyebrows and lashes. His hair is also extraordinarily long, touching the ground if he doesn't tie it up or braid it.

ᴄʟᴇᴀɴʟɪɴᴇꜱꜱ / ɢʀᴏᴏᴍɪɴɢ: Body-wise, Cheren is extremely diligent in waxing any hair that is not on his head, although he claims not to have much anyway.

His everyday cleanliness varies. In his daily life, he is an extremely tidy bun that likes to clean up for not only himself but his loves. He will be extremely fussy about doing the laundry and drying it, so much so that he dislikes modern drying machines that wrinkle the clothing.

However, he does not dislike nature and dirt. He will happily become covered in dirt while gardening, sleep in nature, dive into lakes and ponds... but he will make sure to appropriately clean himself up as much as he can.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴅᴀʏ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ: Cherén dresses extremely feminine the vast majority of the time. He prefers skirts and dresses to pants. His choice of fashion varies between a more club-like style he has developed from his work, and a soft cottage-core sort of fashion.

ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱᴏʀɪᴇꜱ: A pink leather collar and pink crystal engagement ring.

×—ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ—×

ᴀʟʟᴇʀɢɪᴇꜱ: None that he is aware of, unless you count the sun sensitivity.

ɪʟʟɴᴇꜱꜱᴇꜱ: Cheren doesn't talk about it often, but he has been chronically ill since birth. He was not expected to survive past infancy, then past childhood, then to adulthood. His mother developed a medication that helped him survive, which he now makes himself. It keeps him stable, so long as he does not overexert himself. His illness causes him to be extremely physically weak, compromises his immune system, and makes him prone to recurrent infection.

ᴅɪꜱᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ: Cheren has a light case of nystagmus as a symptom of his albinism. Although he is relatively unbothered indoors or at night, he struggles to see distances clearly during the day. If he is in direct sunlight, he may struggle to see much more than what is directly in front of his face. He often compensates for this by having his familiar, Chichan, act as a seeing-eye bunny.

ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟꜱ: Cheren consistently has high levels of social or emotional energy, he is bright and cheerful most days. However, he is easily taxed by anything physical, as well as usage of strong magic. He can go from perfectly chipper to exhausted very quickly. He is horrendous when it comes to stamina, and cannot maintain levels of physical activity for long at all. This is due to his chronic illness.

ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ: Cheren chooses a vegetarian diet, as did his mother. His tribe was previously vegetarian, but also held the belief that it was worse to waste food than to eat meat. Thus, if he is offered non-vegetarian food, he will gratefully accept it. He will also permit himself to eat meat in times of necessity.

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ: Cheren, as a devotee of Menphina, often participates in night rituals. Left to his own devices, he will stay awake deeply into the night. However, he does enjoy waking up early when he can, as the birdsong of the early sky soothes his soul.

ꜰɪᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ: Due to his condition, Cheren is relatively unfit. He is unable to build healthy stamina as most people may be able to, but he does keep up healthy stretches and yoga, as well as practices pole dancing. He is able to train his body, but his stamina and general strength doesn't improve much.

×—ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ—×

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ / ᴇxᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ: Cheren comes across to others as extroverted. He is a spunky, social ball of sunshine who happily greets others when he is working. He loves making new friends and acquaintances, even if only for that moment. He is secretly more shy than he behaves, and had little to no friends growing up. Eorzea has brought out the best in him and allowed him to bloom into his new extroverted self!

ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ: A ball of sunshine? Cheren is usually bright and cheerful, a little mischievous, in proper company. He is always smiling and giggling, and happy to share that joy with others. He has a soft demeanor in general, somewhat like a mother. He behaves much younger than his age outwardly, but attributes this to his long vieran lifespan. Despite his cheerfulness, he is very mature. He just doesn't see any value in presenting himself as too-serious unless the specific event calls for it. He says life is too short to behave like a boring grump. No matter how dire the circumstances, his sweetness and determination to be kind never withers.

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ: I'm not sure how to describe his communication style... Cheren finds very little value in lying, and tends to be rather open with people. He is happy and friendly, sweet and kind, but doesn't mind telling you the truth if it will benefit you in the long run, but will do his best not to hurt you for no reason.

ɢᴏᴀʟꜱ / ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ: Cheren's current goal is to settle down and marry his loves, and ressurect his deceased fiancee... or at minimum, put his soul back together.

Overall, he simply desires a happy life with the ones he loves.

ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴇꜱ: Cheren believes strongly in the good of people. He trusts and loves easily, and is always looking to help others. Even those he dislikes, he affords mercy and a chance at redemption. He will go far out of his way to assist others, to the point that it gets him in trouble. He is also willing to heal and defend those who have wronged him.

ꜰʟᴀᴡꜱ: Cheren believes TOO MUCH in the good of people. He will often disregard his own gut feelings based on the belief that he is being judgemental in order to help or trust someone. Unfortunately, his gut feeling is usually right and he should not have trusted so easily. It's rather easy to take advantage of Cheren's kindness. He is also careless based on this, he believes that if people are kind they will help each other. Additionally, although he will defend and those who have wronged him, he is quick to abandon his own principles and seek revenge on those who have wronged the ones he loves. When it comes to the ones he loves, he will throw away every moral guideline or principal he has in order to protect them and keep them safe, consequences be damned.

Additionally, although Cheren comes across to others as bright and confident, he has very little love for himself. It has improved since moving to Eorzea, but it is still difficult not to view himself as "bad luck" or an anomaly. Different. Wrong.

ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜꜱ: Cheren is kind, supportive, determined, and loyal.

ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱᴇꜱ: Cheren is reckless, stubborn, and loyal to a fault.

ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ: Losing the ones he loves. Being unable to protect them and himself. Being unable to be loved, and unable to love openly.

ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ: His loves. Reviving Elatha.

Qᴜɪʀᴋꜱ / ᴛɪᴄꜱ: Cheren is particular about many things. He is quite superstitious. You MUST take your shoes off when coming into his house, for example. He often prays to Menphina at night, and partakes in rituals on the night of the full moon. He doesn't cut his long hair as it goes against tradition, and only trims the ends on the night of the new moon. Much of his superstitious behavior and quirks revolve around Menphina.

ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ: Cheren is a Necromancer and his specialty is soul magic. He believes that necromancy is, in essence, a form of "late healing". He doesn't wish to make armies of the dead or anything like that, but seeks the truth of true resurrection. To pursue this, he studies the undead and... yes, has made some of them before.

ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜱ: Cheren regrets being powerless to save Elatha, and subsequently failing his spell to revive him. If he could go back, he would not have tried to perform necromancy on him at all.

×—ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ɪ—×

((Note: Cheren's family is Chinese but I do not speak Chinese IRL... i'm so sorry if these are botched. They are written last name, first name.))

ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ: Xue Yingyue

Cheren was extremely close with his mother growing up. She supported him in all the ways she was able and allowed him room to discover himself. Although she was very protective of him, she often allowed him to make mistakes if it meant he would learn a valuable lesson. She never scorned his more feminine or soft ways, and focused her efforts on teaching him ethics. She passed away around the time his family fled from Doma.

ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ: Wu Zhao

Cheren and his father are not close. Although his father loves him dearly, he does not approve of Cheren's feminine ways. His adherence to tradition and continuation of their lineage leaves no room for Cheren's preference for men, and he has tried of several occasions to arrange a marriage for him. His father desired for Cheren to be a strong, masculine son who would continue his name... he was in every way a disappointment to this expectation. Wu Zhao was very overprotective of Cheren growing up, preventing him from doing many activities out of fear that his frail son would not survive. As a result, Cheren grew up extremely secluded within their estate, and never pursued a romantic partner of his own choosing until they fled Doma.

ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ(ꜱ):

Step Mother: Qiu Zhilan Cheren and his step-mother have little to no relationship. Actually, they have a downright hostile one. He has no dislike of her related to her position; It's common in Doma to have multiple wives, and she has been a present figure since he was a child. He dislikes her because she has always hoped that he would fall to some "tragic accident" to be replaced with her daughter, Xishi, as the heir to the family. He is fairly certain she has tried to poison him on multiple occasions, but would never voice this. Despite her schemes towards him, he fears Xishi as well as her mother would be exiled from their family if the truth came to light. As such, he bears her hatred in silence. Cheren calls her by her first name, and is polite to her, but not friendly.

ꜱɪʙʟɪɴɢ(ꜱ):

Sister: Wu Xishi In stark contrast to his relationship with her mother, Chere adores Xishi. He would give her the world in an instant, anything she asked for. He has said before that if she asked for his life, she could have it. He affectionately refers to his little sister as "meimei", and dotes on her. He views her as everything he could never be; strong, confident, and bearing the features of their father's line.

ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ: ---

ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ: ---

ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ: ---

×—ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ɪɪ—×

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ / ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Panromantic, Homosexual lean

ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Widowed Engaged!

ꜱᴘᴏᴜꜱᴇ: ---

ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ/ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ(ꜱ):

Fiance: Elatha Clockworker (Deceased) Once upon a time, Cheren was engaged to a lovely au'ra man named Elatha. He was a widowed artisan and craftsman, and also worshipped Menphina. Elatha was murdered when Cheren was deceived by Elatha's ex-brother-in-law, Irin Clockworker. Irin blamed Elatha for the death of his sister, Elatha's previous wife, and decided to gift that same agony to Elatha's current partner. Cheren watched him die before his eyes, but was neither strong enough to defeat Irin, defend Elatha, or heal the fatal wound.

Fiances: Laure Sombremont & Codex Locke Cheren is currently deeply in love with an engaged as a throuple to Laure and Codex! They are planning to move in together soon to a home in Ishgard close to Laure's family.

ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ(ꜱ):

Ex Girlfriend: Adelia d'Anton Adelia was Cheren's first romantic partner in Eorzea: AKA... his first romantic partner of choice, ever! While they very much enjoyed each other's company and had a nice romance, Adelia quickly helped Cheren discover that his... demeaner... in the bedroom was not exactly ideal. She suspected he preferred the company of men, and helped him uncover that for himself. To this day they are close friends, and for a time she helped him spin a lie that they were engaged to ward off his father's attempt to arrange a marriage. They sent him fake starlight cards for quite a few years.

Ex Boyfriend: Audric d'Anton After being told in no uncertain terms by his lovely girlfriend Adelia that he had "no business dating women", she suggested a date with her younger brother, Audric. Cheren would learn through this endeavor that he quite plainly enjoyed the company and comfort of men. Audric and Cheren would eventually determine that their relationship was too messy and amicably broke up, but all of them remain close friends to this day.

ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ: Perhaps his loves, Laure and Codex, are currently his closest friends. He maintains a similarly close relationship with his exes, Adelia and Audric.

(he also has a lot of friends on ffxiv that don't have blogs I know of lmao)

ᴀᴄQᴜᴀɪɴᴛᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ: Cheren would consider most of his friends further than "close", but closer than acquaintances. Only a few of his friends know his true specialties in magic and... fields of study.

ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀꜱ/ᴄᴏᴍʀᴀᴅᴇꜱ: Cheren is very friendly with his fellow femboys at Femboy Hooters, and tends to make fast friends wherever he works.

ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ: ---

ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ: Qiu, Zhilan, Irin Clockworker

×—ʟɪꜰᴇꜱᴛʏʟᴇ—×

ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: "Entertainer", Healer

ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ: Cheren's previous social class was exceptionally high as he was born to Doman nobility. However, after they fled the Doman occupation, he found himself not quite fitting in anywhere in the world. His father still has extensive funds that Cheren can access upon request, but he prefers to survive by his own means. He makes enough money as an "entertainer" to be comfortable, but it's hard to say exactly what social sphere he is in. Perhaps one could consider him now middle-class?

ᴇᴅᴜᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Although Cheren can act ditzy at times as a feature of his personality, his education was also extensive. He is the only (male) heir of his father and was given advanced education according to Doman high society. This included calligraphy, history, politics, music, and much more. He has the proper education of a highborne heir. Additionally, he loves reading and most of his magical ability was taught to him by his mother or his own extensive studies.

Moving to Eorzea introduced gaps in his education that weren't there before-such as new holidays, traditions, historical conflicts. He has lived in Eorzea for many cycles now, but occasionally he will be forced to inquire as to something he's missed. He speaks and writes common, but has not learned the other Eorzean tongues like Ishgardian.

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ: Although his father currently lives in Kugane, Cheren lives on his own in a small house in Gridania. Soon, he plans to move with his loves to Ishgard to be near Laure's family.

ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ: Cheren loves domestic hobbies. He was discouraged from feminine hobbies by his father, but secretly encouraged by his mother. He adores drawing, knitting, crocheting, sewing, cooking, gardening... any domestic housewife/househusband activity, you name it!

He is however absolutely dreadful with any kind of technology. If you give him a toaster, he will break it.

ᴠɪᴄᴇꜱ: Cheren enjoys drinking from time to time, but has little to no tolerance for alcohol. This can lead to him getting sloppy in public.

One of his vices is to often pretend that he is fine or overexert himself for others and disregard the constraints of his physical illness.

ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ: None (yet!)

ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ: Cheren spends money on his friends and loves quite flippantly, which can leave him in some trouble!

ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴏʀ ʟᴏɴᴇʀ: Cheren is very social! He loves spending time with others, making new friends, and even just hearing the tales and stories of customers who come to see him. He is genuinely interested in what they have to say.

ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ / ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ: Cherén worships the Moon Mother Menphina, as is a tradition in his tribe. He champions love and lunar magic.

×—ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ & ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇꜱ—×

ꜰᴏᴏᴅꜱ: Cheren loves fruits and vegetables... and carrots! A stereotypical bunny boy indeed. He also enjoys treats from his homeland, and pastries. He has a sweet tooth for sure!

He can't tolerate alcohol hardly at all! Although he is from the east, he can't tolerate spice much at all.

His tribe had a practice of being vegetarian in order to respect the life of animals, so he doesn't enjoy eating meat much.

ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ: Cheren prefers pastel colors for his own color palette, but there are few colors he dislikes in general, he can usually find a situation where all of them are beautiful. His favorites are white, pastel pink, and pastel blue.

ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇꜱ: His favorite places are out in nature, or somewhere that feels like home. He doesn't mind which of his or his love's places they go to, as long as they are all together. He considers this "feeling" to be home more than anything.

Although he enjoys most places, he dislikes clubs or parties that are extremely packed. When there are so many people that there isn't even space to dance, he somewhat short-circuits and isn't sure what to do with himself! He also dislikes tense places wherein everyone is meant to remain silent, he finds it awkward and the pressure suffocating.

Perhaps surprising to his companions, although he likes Doma abstractly, he finds the politics and bureaucracy of the east to be suffocating in a similar manner.

ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ: His favorite sounds are the sounds of a happy household, the sounds of nature and the forest, and his love's voices. He also has a soft spot for music boxes and music in general. He likes softer music, but if you play him something on any instrument he will be excited to listen.

Cheren dislikes the sounds of loud machinery, such as noisy cars or workshops, the banging of hammers on metal. He finds it grating to his sensitive ears. The sound of gunfire also scares him.

ꜱᴍᴇʟʟꜱ: Cheren loves the smells of nature: Flowers, wet dirt, fresh air. He also likes the perfumes they make in Eorzea and is often wearing them, usually in a sweet floral scent.

He dislikes the smells of industrial machinery, such as oil and grease. He also doesn't especially like the smell of stinky men... most of the time. If his lovers come to him smelling of the workshop and sweat, they are likely to be sent away to wash.

...but sometimes the smell of man is okay. What can he say? He's a horny bunny!

ᴛᴇxᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ: Cheren doesn't have too much of a preference for texture. He finds a use for almost all textures and feelings in this world... but he doesn't particularly like to be sticky... Well. Except for one activity.

ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ: Cheren enjoys the cool air of spring and fall, and the winter if it grants him fluffy snow.

Summer, however, is his worst enemy! NO he can't go swimming on the beach, he'll burn! His sensitive skin is intolerant of even NORMAL daily sunlight, so summer is a nightmare for this poor bunny.

ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ:

×—ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ—×

ᴊᴏʙ / ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ: Scholar (Cleric) / Reaper, Black Mage

Cheren typically functions as a healer.

In-game this is usually Scholar, though he has other healers leveled as well. When he plays an offensive class it is usually Reaper or Black Mage.

Canonically, Cheren is more of a general mix of magical abilities than strictly one "class" or the other. He studies healing the body as a physician and doctor, as well as magically. He wields a scythe, but is not an in-canon "reaper". He's just... a dude with a scythe. He studies thaumaturgy canonically, but not through any guild. These are his own private studies through various tomes.

ᴀʀᴍᴏʀ ᴛʏᴘᴇ: Caster

ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(ꜱ): Magic, Scythe, Grimoire

ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ: Cheren is extremely physically weak. He fights almost exclusively at a distance with magic, or with his scythe in an attempt to keep enemies from coming close to him. He excels with shielding his allies and healing injuries. In an emergency he can cast thaumaturgic spells for defense, and primarily relies on ice magic.

Chichan, his celestial familiar, also backs him up in battle with support in the form of healing or ice magic attacks. It's uncommon for Chichan to get involved beyond that, but in an emergency... his fangs might come out.

ᴍᴇʟᴇᴇ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ: Cheren has little melee combat skills. He uses his scythe in larges swings to keep enemies at a distance from him as a means of offense and defense, but doesn't have the physical stamina to keep this up long.

ʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ: ---

ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ: Cheren excels in magical healing, but he has some manner of offensive magic. He can wield multiple elemental types of magic, but his go-to affinity is ice magic thanks to his tie to Menphina. This is his most powerful asset.

ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ: Cheren is known to use shields to protect and heal his allies, and he is also quite creative in his use of ice magic. With it he can form protective ice walls or treacherous paths to block his enemies. He can use other elements of magic in similar ways, but fire magic is perhaps the most difficult for him to use as it directly opposes his natural affinity.

ꜱɪɢɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ: Cheren's greatest ability is healing magic, hands down. He is an exceptional healer, with or without magic. He has knowledge of the common species anatomy and physician's skills.

Offensively, his signature ability is his capability with ice magic, and his familiar, Chichan!

×—ᴍɪꜱᴄᴇʟʟᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ—×

ᴘᴇᴛꜱ / ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴꜱ:

Chichan The Destroyer: A celestial familiar which takes the form of an albino bunny! He claims to have destroyed dalamud.

ᴘʀɪᴢᴇᴅ / ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ: His collar, His engagement ring, Elatha's musicbox, Various remaining things belonging to Elatha and his Mother. Cheren is rather sentimental, but he tries to keep the number of precious items low so that he can keep them in an emergency. They had to leave many things behind when they fled Doma, so now he has an emergency selection ready for tragedy to strike.

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ: Doman (Chinese), Hingan (Japanese), Common

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛꜱ: Does Necromancy count? Cheren is skilled at playing several Doman instruments, such as the guzheng and pipa. He is also extremely good at doman calligraphy, as it was drilled into him since childhood.

Cheren can see and speak with the spirits and ghosts naturally. He's not sure why, but his mother held the same ability. He doesn't see every spirit or ghost however, and isn't sure of the rhyme or reason for which ones he sees. Some have stayed around by choice, some are stuck as vengeful ghosts. Spirits are able to hide themselves from him as well if they realize he can see them. He may see ghosts as clearly as an ordinary person, or in various strange forms. There are even times where he will speak to ghost without realizing what they are until others inform him that no one is there.

Due to this ability, however, it is extremely easy for him to be harmed or possessed by spirits and ghosts.

Cheren's specialties are healing, soul magic, and thaumaturgy.

His magical ability builds and falls with the phases of the moon. On the night of the new moon, he is entirely powerless and Chichan cannot be summoned. On the night of the full moon, he is more powerful than usual.

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ: Cheren is extremely quick to get motion sick. He abhors travel by mechanical means, and especially travel by sea. He prefers to use aetherytes, or travel on foot. He is fond of chcoobos, but mostly because he feels he has a degree of control and trust in the animal.

ɴᴏᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ: Cheren's greatest necromatic accomplishment is reviving a stray cat that had been dead for a few hours. The cat is now alive and well, living with his ex-boyfriend Audric. The cat's name is "Furbs" short for "refurbished."

ᴀɴ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ: The loss of Elatha greatly wounded Cheren and spurred his advancements into Necromancy. What was before a slight curiosity bloomed into obsession, and he has recklessly pursued the field ever since with the determination of bringing his dead fiancee back.

Even though he has been able to find love again, he is unable to let go of Elatha. This has affected his current relationship in a few ways, often leading to hesitance or confusion on his part of what to do, how to try to move on... without really moving on.

He just can't let him go. He can't.