#of acting as characters who go against authority (sort of)

[iamthedukeofurl]

Discworld is an interesting beast in the age of ACAB. Like, the city watch books are a story about police and the way in which a good police force can help and protect people. Which would make it copoganda. And I'm not going to say that the City Watch books are completely free of copoganda, but they also do something interesting that fairly few stories about heroic police officers do, and I think it has a lot to do with Samuel Vimes. A lot of copoganda stories like, say, Brooklyn 99, are perfectly capable of portraying cops as cruel, bigoted, and greedy, but our central cast of characters are portrayed as good people who want to help their communities. The result is that the bad cops are portrayed as an aberration, while most cops can be assumed to be good people doing a tough job because they want to help protect people from the nebulous evil forces of "Crime". The police are considered to be naturally heroic. Pratchett does something very interesting, which is provide us with Vimes' perspective, and present us with an Unnaturally heroic police force. In Ahnk-Morpork, the natural state of the watch is a gang with extra paperwork. It's the place for people who, at best, just want a steady paycheck and at worst want an excuse to hit people with a truncheon. Rather than be an army defending people from the forces of Crime, the Watch is described as a sort of sleight-of-hand, big burly watchmen in shiny uniforms don't stand around in-case a Crime happens in their vicinity, they stand around to remind people that The Law exists and has teeth. The Watchmen are people, when danger rears it's head, their instinct is to hide and get out of the way. When faced with authority, their instinct is to bow to it out of fear of what it might do to them if they don't. Carrot is a genuine Hero, but his natural heroism is presented as an aberration. Normal Cops don't act like Carrot does. The fact that the Watch ends up acting like a Heroic Police Force is largely due to the leadership of Sam Vimes, but Vimes himself is a microcosm of the Watch. The base state of Sam Vimes would be an alchoholic bully of an officer, one who beats people until they confess to anything because that makes his job easier. Vimes The Hero is a homunculous, an artificial being created by Sam Vimes fighting back all those instincts and FORCING himself to behave as his conscience dictates. Vimes doesn't take bribes or let his officers do the same because, damnit, that sort of thing shouldn't happen, even if doing so would make things a lot easier. Vimes doesn't run towards sounds of screaming because he WANTS to, he forces himself to do so because somebody needs to. It's best summed up in Thud “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Your Grace.” “I know that one,” said Vimes. “Who watches the watchmen? Me, Mr. Pessimal.” “Ah, but who watches you, Your Grace?” said the inspector with a brief little smile. “I do that, too. All the time,” said Vimes. “Believe me.”

In the hands of another writer, or another series, this exchange would be weirdly dismissive. To whom should the police be accountable to? Themselves, shut up and trust us. But from Vimes, it's a different story. Vimes DOES constantly watch himself, and he doesn't trust that bastard, he's known him his entire life. The Heroic Police are not a natural state, they're an ideal, and ahnk-morpork only gets anywhere close. Vimes is constantly struggling against his own instincts to take shortcuts, to let things slide, but he forces himself to live up to that ideal and the Watch follows his example. Discworld doesn't propose any solutions to the problems with policing in the real world. We don't have a Sam Vimes to run the NYPD and force them to behave. We don't have a Carrot Ironfounderson. But it's at least a story about detectives and police that I can read without feeling like I'm being sold propaganda about the Thin Blue Line.

[jessicalprice]

So I've spent a lot of time untangling Christian exegesis of parables and talking about how the way Christians interpret parables almost always ends up being antisemitic.

But aside from how it makes them think about Jews and Judaism and Jewishness, I also want to talk a bit about how it makes them sympathize more with abusers than with victims.

The easy-to-point-to culprit here is the trilogy of parables that culminates in what most Christians know as the Prodigal Son story.

The common interpretation of these parables is that God does (and therefore Christians should) value a repentant sinner over someone who's never sinned.

The problem here isn't the stories themselves--they're pretty enigmatic as far as their actual meanings--but Luke's gloss:

"Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance."

(Mark says, "So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost," which is very different.

So on its face, in 2023, that's a blatantly dangerous, abuser-supporting belief. What is it like to be a child sexually abused by your youth pastor and to hear that the fact that he hurt you is part of what makes him somehow spiritually "better" than you?

And we can see it play out in the way Kevin M. Young, a popular progressive pastor on Twitter (who describes himself as "post-evangelical" and was the senior pastor at a Quaker congregation) responded to being told one of his tweets was antisemitic, and then jumped in to support a woman who responded by identifying herself as a fan of John Chrysostom (the literal author of "Against the Jews" and the most antisemitic of the Church Fathers, which is saying something).

I'm not going to transcribe the whole thing, because it's not all that important for what I have to say about this, but I am going to call out a few lines:

"The American Christian approach to t'shuvah sees the victim's spirit, character, and speech as equally important to the offenders. I.e. in Christendom, the victim can exceed the sin of the offender simply by their reaction (if it be in sin or acted in a way that is not Spirit led)."

So, to be clear, if someone assaults you, and you don't meekly forgive them in a "Spirit led" way, you're somehow worse than they are.

The uniquely Christian brain rot here is in seeing every sin as an opportunity for forgiveness. After all, if being a repentant sinner gives you a higher spiritual status--if there's more "rejoicing in Heaven" over you--than that of your victim, then you have to sin to get there. It treats other people as props in your salvation journey, not as fellow humans whose suffering matters. (Combine that with the Christian idea that suffering is somehow virtuous in and of itself, and you've got a very toxic recipe. Not only, by abusing others, are you guaranteeing your own value as a repentant sinner, but you're giving your victim the opportunity to ennoble themselves through suffering.)

Of course, a key word here is repentant. Put a pin in that.

These sort of exchanges on Twitter--a Christian being outright genocidal toward Jews, and a supposedly progressive Christian figure jumping in to defend the Christian, with seemingly no ability to comprehend that the Jews in the conversation are human beings who may have their own trauma around violently antisemitic language, with boundless empathy for the Christian abuser and none for the Jewish targets of their abuse--happen frequently and just as frequently leave Jwitter baffled in addition to angry.

Why all this empathy for the abuser and none for the victims?

I think a lot of this comes out of progressive Christian exegesis of parables, which is frequently looking for the radical "twist" to the story.

E.g. in the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, the assumption is that the audience of the time would have empathized with the Pharisee, and thus the twist is to make them empathize with the tax collector. In the story of the Good Samaritan, the assumption is that they would have seen the Samaritan as a threat, and the twist is to make him the hero.

The thinking goes that the audience would have had empathy for certain groups and none for others, so the stories push them to feel that empathy for the latter, and that this was needed to balance the scales, to make sure everyone was receiving love and empathy and care.

Except that this, in modernity, has the effect of simply reversing the roles, not balancing them. The groups that are assumed to be in good social standing get no empathy, even become the implicit villains, and the groups (supposedly, since this is now a Christian-dominant society) traditionally looked down on get all of it.

That might still be a balancing act if the "looked down on" groups were actually marginalized. But in the Christian imagination, that role is filled by sinners in need of Christian grace, not necessarily demographically marginalized groups.

The idea seems to be that the victims are getting sympathy from elsewhere, so it's the Christian's job to make sure the abuser/sinner gets sympathy too.

But I'll point again to that pesky word "repentant."

Ultimately, when it comes to treatment of Jews and Muslims and anyone else who points out that a Christian has in some way harmed them, Christian sympathy goes immediately to the offender before the offender has even expressed any repentance.

The repentant sinner is so much more valuable, at this point, than their victims that they must be preemptively forgiven, that they are more valuable purely because they now have the potential to repent.

And this seems to be lurking under not just how "progressive" pastors act on Twitter, but in a lot of our cultural narratives around, say, college rapists and their futures, around white people who are publicly called out for racist acts, etc.

[cerise-on-top]

i just stumbled across your blog by chance and ohh my god i am in love with it 😻 you write my babygirl war criminals so good <3 anyway i can't stop thinking about how the 141 + graves would be with a fem!reader who has a huge and blindingly obvious crush on them :P BUT ALSO!!! she gets really bratty and annoying because she wants their attention like all the time 😔 anyway yeah ur blog is giving me life i hope both sides of ur pillow are always cold 🙏

Hello! I'm glad to hear you enjoy my silly writings! I try my best to write them as well as I can, thank you :> I'm sorry to say this, but I only write for four characters at once, so I left Graves out this time. But you're more than welcome to send the same request in again a second time with Graves, I don't mind!

TF141 with a Reader who Has a Huge Crush on Them

Price: This guy would know fairly quickly. He’s had a crush here and there as well when he was younger, so he knows how foolish some people can act when they have one. You walking into a pole as he talked to you, your irises as wide as possible, was kind of a dead giveaway. He’d be worried about you, asking you if you’re doing alright, but won’t push you. Price believes that you have a crush on him because he’s an authority figure, although he is also aware that he’s fairly good looking as well. Though, he won’t force you out of your comfort zone and use it against you either. You having stars in your eyes as you listen to him talk to you is sort of cute, though. It does remind him of his youth. Might become a bit more touchy with you as a result, lightly punching your shoulder or putting a hand on it and squeezing it. Nothing big, since he wholeheartedly believes your crush on him will wane eventually. However, as much as he likes you, he wouldn’t really be happy with you needing his attention on you all the time. He’s a captain, he has a lot of work and needs to do organizational things as well when he can, so he can’t really spend too much time with you. When he can, he will, but you will need to tone it down a bit as well. If you keep being a little brat, however, then he will call you out on it and tell you in a gentle tone to calm down a bit. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not taken, so you really have nothing to worry about. If you’re being especially good for him, he might reward you with a hug. It’s a good reward because he’s a very good hugger, very comfortable and strong, and he doesn’t just give his hugs out to anyone. But you need to behave.

Gaz: Will also notice fairly quickly that you’re crushing on him. In his case, the fact you would always be in a good mood whenever you were alone with him was what gave it away. However, he, too, is a sweetheart about it and won’t push you. He’ll give you a few more smiles than usual, give you a few more touches and try to spend more time with you. Many people have had a crush on him, so he’s fairly used to it by now, but it’s still very flattering. You’re cute when you’re stammering around him, leaning into his touch when he puts his hand on your forehead, checking you if you have a fever since you said your face felt hot. The way your irises turn into hearts whenever you look at him doesn’t go unnoticed by him either, it’s always fun to see. However, he might sometimes hold your hand intentionally to fluster you a bit. If you’re particularly close, he might kiss your cheek as well when you give him a gift to show your gratitude. Overall, he’s having fun, but he won’t abuse the power he has over you either. Instead he’ll let it slowly form, let it take a natural shape. You always wanting his attention is also fairly cute to him. Not many people vie for his attention as much as you do, quite a few people tend to dismiss him, but it’s nice to be the center of attention anyway. Will invite you to spend some time with him if you’re being jealous, like taking a walk or cooking together. If you’re especially jealous he might offer to cuddle with you for a bit before he has to go back doing stuff a sergeant needs to do. He may not be the warmest person, but he puts all his heart into cuddling someone. He does want you to feel appreciated as well since he does like you as well. So yeah, feel free to knock on his room and ask him to spend time with you, he likely won’t say no.

Ghost: Another one many people have a crush on. He’s used to being the center of someone’s romantic attention, but he never really cared much for it, never was one to just jump into a relationship without really knowing the person well beforehand, so he never gave anyone a chance. Ghost also knows when you have a crush on him, especially since you’re always trying to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it’s just hanging out while he’s filing reports. Though, in all honesty, Ghost won’t treat you differently from before. He won’t be any more touchy than before, he won’t go out of his way to spend time with you. You’re still you, regardless of how endearing it is that you can’t hide your crush in the slightest. Although it could be argued that you bumping into this behemoth of a man and then falling back onto your butt is borderline careless. He’ll offer a hand to help you up, though. Unlike the Gaz and Price, he might bring you having a crush on him up in a conversation, asking you if it’s true. Regardless of your answer, he’ll go quiet for a bit before patting your back and going about his day again. It’s his way of saying “Thanks. Good luck.” A man of few words even when he’s not speaking. You always wanting his attention does get on his nerves a bit, though. He needs his alone time occasionally, so you sticking to him like a limpet is a bit annoying. Has no qualms about telling you off either, though. He’s a lieutenant, he knows what he wants and he can bluntly convey such. But that’s just his way of speaking, give him a few hours and you can spend some more time with him if he isn’t busy. You can do a puzzle with him, it calms his nerves and his mind gets to stay sharp too.

Soap: He’s also a very observant man, a very smart cookie, so he’ll have it figured out when you made him a pie with a handwritten note, little hearts instead of dots over the i’s. You’ve never done anything like this for anyone else, though, so he knows. Is a bit smug about it. Not too many people have had a crush on him since he’s friend material more so than anything else, but there was one person, maybe two. He’ll grin like a Cheshire cat when he knows you aren’t looking. Becomes far far more touchy than before. In fact, he’ll flirt with you as well. If you’re speechless then he’s won. Gives you side hugs, bear hugs, hugs from the back, you name it. Will also offer to let you nap on his big, broad, manly chest if you complain about being tired. He sort of wants to get you to confess to him. Yes, he has not had many sweethearts throughout his life since he was always busy with soccer and the military, but he thinks someone being this head over heels for him could do him some good. And he also wants to stroke his ego. And yeah, there is a chance he might develop feelings for you as well while he’s being this affectionate with you. He’s affectionate with many people, but he’ll turn it up a notch with you, he’s not immune. Doesn’t mind you being annoying for his attention either. He can be very annoying too when he wants attention, so there’s a chance you’ll annoy each other into spending time with each other. Even if there’s no need to. For some people, Soap can be a bit off putting with his curious nature and how social he is, but he’s glad that’s not the case with you. So yeah, you’re more than welcome to go drink some shots with him at a bar and then snuggle the stinking night away because you’re drunk and he’s almost entirely sober.

[watchtowerindistress]

for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (1/2)

Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.-

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, Jake being an idiot (what else is new?), Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff

Author’s note: Just something fun I wanted to write. I kinda hate myself for not writing for Bradley first, since I love the guy. You know, Jake's fics I love to read, yet I couldn't stand him while watching Maverick. Go figure.

I haven't watched the film enough to distinguish the traits of the characters, so I can't guarantee for accuracy for the side characters. I can only include a handful of people - that's why I don't have people like Reuben in there since their character traits aren't included in the fandom page.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @yourgirlypop (blank blogs can't be tagged)

Read me on AO3 | Series masterlist

“So, tell us all the details. Preferably, the humiliating kind,” Natasha asked with a curious air.

You smiled. “What about?”

“Hangman, of course.”

The Dagger Squad was the perfect company to be around, you decided. Jake, your childhood best friend, who you haven’t seen in years, offered The Hard Deck as the place for you to wait until he arrived. Video calls didn’t hold up to the real thing. Especially, with you two being very busy people and you finally getting out of New York to spend some quality time together.

“I need to get the embarrassing goods, at least before Hangman shows up. I mean, we have the perfect person to interrogate. In the rare instances, when he talks about something other than himself, Hangman keeps mentioning you,” she mused.

“Nat-” Bob interjected, who was sitting next to her in a booth while the rest of their squad were scattered in the bar.

Natasha turned her head. “Aren’t you a little bit curious about the depraved mind of Jake Seresin?”

“Not really.”

You snorted at their torn convictions when Mickey and Javy arrived at their table with bottles of beer.

“What did we miss?” Javy asked.

Natasha’s stubborn gaze didn’t stray from yours for many seconds. “I’m trying to crack Y/N.” Her eyes met Javy’s over her shoulder. “Tell Rooster he needs to stall him until I get to the good bits.”

You looked around speculatively. “Is this some sort of initiation or baptism by fire Jake should’ve warned me about?”

Javy offered a small reprieve. “Don’t mind her. She just wants to pick your brain. How long are you going to stay?”

“About a week. Enough time for Jake to show me around San Diego.”

Mickey took a gulp from his drink. “Good luck with that.”

Warm breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine when someone whispered into your ear, “Did I just hear my name?”

Your body jolted at hearing the unexpected voice. “Oh my God.” You turned and found a cheeky Jake standing behind you. “You little f- Don’t startle me like that!” Clambering out of the booth, you jumped into his arms, while giggling from the shock. “Hey, you,” you said, holding on tightly.

“Hey, yourself. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, darlin’.”

“You’re such a jerk,” you whispered into his neck.

Jake swayed you lightly. “You love when I’m a jerk.”

Leaning back, you pressed your fingers an inch apart. “Just a tad.” You hesitated. “Like about 10%.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Talk about 75%. It’s part of my charm,” he murmured, stroking your lower back.

“Is this what you tell everyone here?” You teased, pointing to his colleagues behind you.

Javy’s scoff was joined by the others.

You looked back to see their reactions. “You know, I’m starting to really like your group of friends.” While turning back, you narrowed your eyes when you saw Jake glowering at the Dagger Squad before his expression turned into an innocent one.

“I’m starting to question your taste in people,” he said.

Someone snickered next to him. “That’s funny, … Hangman.”

Realizing that another person joined their company, you turned towards the man who looked vaguely familiar from the pictures Jake had sent you. Not to mention, you remembered Natasha’s remark from earlier that Jake would show up with someone else.

“Rooster, right?” You stepped away from Jake’s embrace and shook Bradley’s hand in greeting. Jake merely sighed and crossed his arms.

“Bradley’s fine.” He faced the rest of the group. “By the way, am I the only one that felt really awkward just standing here, watching those two?”

Mumbles echoed all around. “No, you’re not.” Still slightly by the display of the too-long-hug.

A sigh left Jake, who placed an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t listen to the others. And the words of the chicken shouldn’t be trusted. I hope those knuckleheads treated you right.”

You shrugged. “It was fun. I was this close to reveal your darkest secrets for a slice of a good ol’ fashioned apple pie made by … Phoenix, was it?”

“There’ll be no revealing. And no pie,” Jake interjected before pointing at Natasha. “You’ve already been in the company of Phoenix and the goon squad for less than an hour and Nat already found out your weakness for sweets,” he whispered against your neck. “At least you didn’t have to be subjected to the likes of Rooster here.” A shiver coursed through his body. “I shudder at the thought of you having to listen to him at first. He’ll probably want to talk about his caterpillar of a moustache.”

A languid smirk drew on Bradley’s lips as he stroked his mentioned facial hair. “Very funny. You jealous?”

You tilted your head at their teasing. “You have some weird fixation on Bradley’s facial hair. Didn’t you talk on the phone about-”

Abruptly, Jake took you by the hand and dragged you to the bar counter. “Let’s get some food into you. Your blood sugar’s getting awfully low. Someone’s getting tired already.”

“You’re being such a grump, Jake.”

Jake leaned against the counter. “I’m not. I’m just making sure you’re getting some nachos into you, darlin’.”

“You need to be nicer. We both know you’re more of a sweetheart than this.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold. And don’t let yourself be bribed by the others.” Jake turned to Penny. “A basket of nachos for this one, Penny?” You rolled your eyes at seeing Jake point at the top of your head.

There was something about Penny’s playful glance that warmed you upon first meeting. The woman nudged her head at Jake. “Be careful with this one.”

With mischief in your eyes, you stole a glance at him. “I know. This one … has been trouble for as long as I can remember.”

“Hey!” Jake uttered in mock outrage before he did introductions. “Penny, that’s Y/N. She’s my friend,” he said, placing his hand on your back.

“And here I thought I was your best friend.”

Jake hushed any further confessions, whispering, “But don’t tell Javy.”

You turned to Penny with a smile. “See? He’s such a big softie.”

Penny smirked. “I’m starting to. Where are you from?”

“Moved around a lot as a kid. Dad’s an Air Force pilot.” You waved towards him. “We grew up together in Texas. But I live in New York.”

Penny’s eyes lit up at the mention. “I’ll get you some cheese dip.”

“Thanks.”

Jake watched Penny wander off with a speculative gaze. “Someone’s making friends quickly.”

“It’s okay. I’ll teach you my ways,” you said only half-teasingly and stroked Jake’s arm. Your hand lingered on his muscles. Wait, were they flexing? “Woah, what happened to your arm, dude?”

Jake’s voice turned concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”

There was something akin to awe in your voice. “Your bicep feels like it’s going to rip through your shirt.”

His shoulders were shaking when he chuckled. There was something about Jake turning his head to hide his blushing cheeks that stunned you even to this day. “You’re such a smartass.”

“I’m serious. Someone’s really working out, huh?” You mumbled to yourself, “This could make a girl feel weak in the knees.”

“Okay, you need food,” Jake said with a resolute mindset, before calling over your shoulder, “Thanks, Penny.”

He pushed the basket towards your elbow. “Get some chips into you.” Jake just watched you munch on your crispy snack. “Speaking of food, you want to join me and the group to some Barbecue this weekend?”

You barely lifted your head. “Barbecue? Special occasion?”

“Rooster’s uncle Maverick is celebrating his birthday-”

“Woah, hold your horses, Jake.”

You raised your hands. Either to stop Jake from continuing or to restart your own brain. “Come again? Maverick?” Your hands hovered over your mouth, as you mumbled, “You’re inviting me to Maverick’s birthday barbecue party? I don’t feel prepared for this.”

Jake groaned. “Oh great, I forgot your dad is such a Maverick fanboy. Of course.” He closed his eyes in a mixture of misery and defeat.

“Jake,” you breathed in deeply and covered his shoulders with your hands, mindful of not dropping nacho dust on his shirt. “Jake,” you began again, “I’ve never told you this, but this is the first time when I realized how absolutely invaluable you are to me as a best friend.”

“I’m seriously regretting telling you this.”

You nibbled on your lip. “I think I scared Jake off with my … how do I say it … domineering admiration for Maverick. I’m getting the feeling he’s embarrassed of me. You have no idea how quickly he dashed the moment we arrived here.”

Natasha appeared nonchalant at your worries while she took a bite from her noodle salad on her paper plate. “Not possible. I’ve only met you yesterday and can affirm that man couldn’t be closer to you. Hangman was probably held up by something. Or he’s just elevating his testosterone level with Rooster again. You met the birthday kid already?”

“Nope.” At the mention, your hands tightened around the food container.

A soothing smile tugged on Natasha’s lips. “Deep breaths. You can’t miss him.” She pointed outside to the backyard. “He’s the guy at the grill, in the sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt. If he has a mustache, you’ve gone too far.”

“Got it.” You exhaled quietly and reminded yourself under your breath, “No mustache, Hawaiian shirt.”

“You’ll survive, don’t worry.” Natasha looked behind her. “Rooster, take her with you. She wants to meet the birthday man in question.”

“Sure.” Bradley stepped forward and offered his arm.

Your body acted on pure instinct.

“Holding my hand, alright, that’s fine.”

You only mouthed in gratitude, “Thank you.”

They walked a few steps onto the lawn when Bradley looked around. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Nat told me he was probably wrestling in the mud with you to assert his dominance.” You cleared your throat when you realized something. “And not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say. Just making sure where you two stand if he sees us standing together, holding hands.”

“Jake Seresin is not my dad,” you said absentmindedly when a dark-haired man caught your eye. Your throat felt dry. “Is that him?”

“As everyone keeps telling me.” Bradley approached the man standing behind the grill. “I found someone who wants to send their birthday wishes, Mav.”

Maverick revealed a crooked smirk. “Is that so?” You could feel his curious gaze through his sunglasses. “You’re a new face.”

“Um, yeah. I’m Jake’s friend.”

“Hangman has friends?”

“I know it’s a first for everybody,” you admitted. Knowing that Bradley and Jake were at least on speaking terms, and with Jake inviting you to Maverick’s barbecue party, you elaborated, “He needs some time to let people get close.”

Bradley gasped. “You don’t say.”

You focused on Maverick. “A few days ago, Jake invited me to your birthday. Hope that’s okay. I brought you peach cobbler as a present.”

At the mention, Bradley’s head whipped around. “Jesus, why didn’t you just go with that?”

Maverick moved his glasses until they laid atop his head and his eyes were uncovered. “You had me at cobbler.” He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Bradley, you mind taking over the grill for a bit?”

“Fine. Get me a beer along the way?”

“Sure.” Maverick faced you again when he led you towards the table filled with food. “I didn’t catch your name?”

Just being in Maverick’s company felt surreal. You tried to restrain yourself from appearing too much like a crazy person.

“Um, Y/N … L/N. You’re Maverick?” Nervously, you stroked a curl of hair behind your ear. Even saying that name while standing right in front of him felt out of this world.

“Pete’s just fine.” His expression turned inquisitive. “Did Hangman tell you stories or did I miss something?”

You swallowed thickly. “My dad’s a big fan of yours. He’s a pilot in the Air Force. Told me stories ever since I was a kid. Your flight maneuvers have been legendary.”

He smiled at the devotion in your voice. “Still are.” You adored that playful glint in his eyes still shining through.

“Definitely. You probably get this all the time.”

“Want a beer?” After seeing you nod, he gave you a bottle. “Sometimes. Although, that kind of reverie I’m not used to.”

To calm your nerves, you downed some alcohol. “Really? Okay, I’ll try to control myself. However, Iceman’s skills were far-” Your eyes widened at your blabbing mouth before you covered it. “I’m sorry, too much liquid courage.”

Pete—even thinking that name felt strange—released guffaws of laughter at your gaffe. “Hey, it’s still my birthday!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Ma-Pete.”

~ Jake POV ~

“Hey, Hangboy, I need to have a word with you,” Jake heard Natasha’s hard voice a few feet away from them as he hung out with the boys. Despite that, the concept of strength in numbers didn’t make him feel safe, judging by her vehemence.

He swallowed at the dark glare in Nat’s eyes. “Vernacular?”

Natasha didn’t appreciate the humor and crossed her arms, letting uncomfortable silence fester around them.

Jake pressed his lips together. “Bad timing?”

“Someone ever say you’re a bad friend?”

Without hesitation, he replied dryly, “You. Every morning when I show up to work.”

“I had to send Bradley in Y/N’s direction because she was nervous about meeting Maverick.”

He groaned at the thought, throwing his head back. “Oh, poor Y/N. Being forced onto the company of that dull-stache? Sounds horrible.” Jake checked his surroundings, hoping to pick them up.

There was something about Natasha’s innocent eyes, with murder in her eyes, that unsettled him deeply.

“You make me want to punch you in the gut. And you know I grew up with brothers. I know how to make it look like an accident.”

Jake dropped the drink he was holding on a nearby table. “I have a plan.”

Natasha tilted her head in fascination. “Wow, your brain can actually do that? Could’ve fooled me. What does that even look like?”

He drew nearer at the sound of her challenge. “It’s called giving each other space. Did I miss something or why are you so gung-ho when it comes to Y/N? Do we need to have a talk?”

“Five minutes in her company and I already know how she’s too good for you.”

Something bitter settled in his stomach at the mere mention. As if he didn’t already know. He smiled tensely. “Thanks for the reminder, Phoenix. Do I need to save her from Rooster?”

Natasha waved a hand. “Not to worry. Y/N is having fun with Bob.”

His mind went blank, trying to process her words. Jake pursed his lips, feeling confused. “Wait—w—why—what are you saying? Bob? Bob with the glasses? Or is there another Bob I should know?”

Natasha hummed, analyzing his reaction. She chose to unnerve him further by chuckling maniacally. “Cake stand. Have fun.” And with that she left.

Jake whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. The food area instantly caught his eye. Y/N stood with Bob and was laughing uproariously. It felt X-Files-strange to watch that anomaly. Y/N arched her back and patted Bob’s shoulder, with a plate of cake slice in her hand.

Feeling perturbed by the macabre reality, Jake imagined Y/N being into Bob of all people. He frowned at that scenario, whispering, “Bob?”

~ Y/N POV ~

You held your stomach. Your cheeks were hurting from uncontrollable laughter, as you were trying to breathe. “Oh my God, Bob, that’s so-”

Jake inched closer with a small smile on his face. “What’s so funny?” He draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and reached for her dessert plate, either so she wouldn’t drop it or to have a taste himself. Without looking at him, you placed it into his hands.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Why didn’t you tell me that Bob is so funny?”

Jake swallowed before coughing. “You learn something new every day. Still waters, huh?”

Bob smiled awkwardly.

Upon seeing his reaction, you spoke up, “I always hated that saying. Bob’s an absolute sweetheart.” To reinforce your point to him, you rubbed Bob’s shoulder.

Bob adjusted his glasses while blushing. “I try my best, ma’am.”

“Bob!” You chuckled in mock outrage, swatting lightly against his chest.

He nodded with a small smile. “Yes, Y/N, affirmative.”

“We’re getting to know each other. I just found out that Bob’s from Montana and his momma used to be a Grizzlies mascot. Personally, I’m more of a Saints girl, but to each their own.”

Jake groaned, with his mouth full. “I’m eating here,” he muttered indignantly. Jake swallowed his food. “What did I ever do to you? The last time we did this, we had the Cowboys/Saints-gate.”

You leaned your head back against Jake’s chest, patting his cheek consolingly. “He’s such a big baby.”

Bob pressed his lips together. “Uh, I think I hear my name. I need to say hello to Maverick real quick.”

You reached out with your arm. “Oh, do put your feelers out if the birthday guy is still fine with me after I was blabbing my mouth about g-loc and Iceman’s record stats.”

“He’s probably fine.”

“But still!” You called out against his back as he left.

It was turning out to be a quiet evening, you realized, rubbing your feet.

Jake stepped into the living room, drying his moist hair with a towel. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching you. “Would you look at that.”

You were transfixed on the film playing on Jake’s TV while you snuggled deeper under the towel on the couch. “What’s up?”

Jake decided to join you on the couch and put your feet on his lap. He spread his legs comfortably. Unconsciously, warming your heels. “You know, feels like old times. You sitting on my couch, taking all the blankets.”

You covered your eyes, with a groan, and leaned your head back. “You make me sound like a mooch. I offered to go to a hotel.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Jake chuckled. You felt the warmth of his hand when he reached for yours. Before you could blink, Jake stared deeply into your eyes and interlaced your fingers together. With a smile, he whispered, “I missed this. Feels like old times.”

With blushing cheeks, you felt your skin tingling at sitting so close to him. It was moments like these that made you question the nature of your friendship. You swallowed at seeing Jake’s sage-green eyes sparkle. His soft smile was making it hard to breathe.

You whispered, “Me too.”

“You know what else I miss? And what I can’t stop thinking about?”

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips. Feeling uncertain by his thought process, you slowly asked, “Which is what?”

Jake inched closer. “How I used to do this.” He tilted his head, rubbing his wet hair into the crook of your neck.

“You jerk!” You giggled from his attack. It made him seem more like a dog than a human when he was content in brushing his wet hair against your skin.

He grumbled lowly, as his warm breath puffed against your skin. “But this feels really nice. I could stay like this forever,” he said with a hum.

Your phone emitted a notification sound. “You’re an idiot.” Slapping against his forehead to push him away, deep chuckles followed you while your focus switched to your phone.

“You hungry? I could whip up some chicken teriyaki for us? I think I got some sauce in the cabinet. I know how much you love your teriyaki.” He groaned while standing up.

Giggles left your mouth when you read the incoming messages.

Jake turned his head. “Your girlfriends miss you already?”

You bit your lip. “No, it’s Bob just being sweet.”

Blinking slowly, Jake tried to process the words you just uttered. He cleared his throat. Jake’s voice turned slightly high-pitched. “Come again?” He coughed, placing his hands on his waist. “Are we talking about the same Bob? Bob Bob?”

You hummed in agreement without looking up.

He mumbled, “Didn’t know you guys already exchanged numbers. That’s quick, … right?”

With a curious gaze, you looked up. “What do you mean?”

Jake paused. “What do you mean?” He licked his lips, backtracking a bit. “With, you know, Bob … being a total sweetheart.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of the barbecue. “Well, he is. I really loved talking to him.”

With grumbling breaths, Jake puffed his chest. “Really?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yep, it was fun.”

“As you keep mentioning,” Jake murmured.

“I did some thinking,” you spoke, “and I was wondering, how would you feel about doing karaoke night with your squad?”

At first, Jake had a look of appreciation which took a turn to disappointment. “But karaoke night is our thing,” he said, pointing between them.

“I know, but this could be like a bonding thing. You’d get to know them, I’d get to know them and we could have fun together. Win-win!”

He sighed deeply, letting his shoulders drop. “You’re far too invested in this.”

“I don’t want them to remember me as the friend who didn’t want to bother with them.”

Jake’s voice turned into a soothing murmur. “They wouldn’t dare think that.”

With a whisper, you enunciated, “Not if we do karaoke night. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

[ewingstan]

I. Introduction

A while ago, I wrote on how Jack Slash was a prime example of how Worm approaches metatextual commentary. Wildbow has a general tendency in his first two serials especially to identify common story tropes and give them in-universe justifications. Jack Slash in particular is a response to the tendency for writers to give plot armor to the Joker and similar sorts of popular villain characters. The out-of-story justification of the authors ("we can't have someone just shoot him, that's boring, besides everyone loves this guy look at him go") becomes an in-story aspect of his powers: an ability to subtly influence other capes behavior allowing him to always escape danger. Plot armor transformed into an in-universe mechanic that characters are aware of, react to, and work against.

Notably, this tendency is never used to highlight the status of wildbow's characters as characters— there is no fourth-wall breaking or attempts to undermine the audience's perception of the story as containing essentially a self-contained world running on its own internal logic. But this certainly isn't the only way you could comment on Joker-type charcter's plot armor: Funny Games covers similar ground using the opposite trick, repeatedly having its home-invader villains draw attention to how they're characters in a story, and that whether they win or lose is determined wholly by the author's will. Director Michael Haneke continually draws his audience into the story only to violently and repeatedly pull them out with suspension-of-disbelief-shattering acts on the villains part. It's The Treachery of Images as a horror movie.

Together, Worm and Funny Games showcase two different approach to explaining why the villain gets to live another day. If you can explain their deal using only the internal logic of the story ("Jack has a power that lets them escape consequences"), then the author is giving a diegetic justification for the trope justified by mechanisms of the story's universe. If you can't explain their deal without reference to them being characters in a narrative ("Paul can talk to the audience and rewind time because he's a fictional character and can do whatever the author says he can do") then its a "narrative" or nondiegetic justification for the trope.

These can be combined. Seidlinger's Anybody Home? used them together for awkward effect: serial killers perform acts that get recorded by some mysterious "camera" that produces a log of their events, which through mystical and mysterious means gets distributed to film producers and adapted into horror movies. Killers have fully "narrative" reasons for following horror tropes—they know they have an audience and are behaving for their benefit. But the story suffers from its awkward in-story justification, its "mechanical" framing: the audience the killers are acting for are other people within the story's universe, not the readers of the book. Characters realize they're "victims" in a story, but they're framed not as existing fully for the story but as normal people who got caught within a story, stuck in it like one gets caught in a storm.

In this post I want to highlight some more elegant ways of combining the mechanical and narrative approaches to metafiction, especially in regards to plot armor. I'll be commenting on wildbow's second serial Pact, Homestuck, and Eidolon DISKA, and heavily spoiling all of them. I've divided them into sections so readers can avoid spoilers or skip over works they're uninterested in, though they're not separate essays. I'd maybe recommend checking out DISKA if you haven't. Its great. Alright then.

II.

Pact and the otherverse gives its characters diagetic reasons for following tropes that align with narrative rules though its magic system. Otherverse magic largely involves telling the universe a story and hoping that your behavior has enough symbolic resonance that it believes you. A lot of the magic spells work on a "I dunno, this feels like it would work" logic.

This means that characters need to be aware of how characters in good stories would act, and often need to behave in a way that is believable if they were characters in a story. The result is that Blake Thorburn ends up purposefully trying to emulate a monster from a horror story, purposefully playing into the tropes of such a character. He acts like a specific type of story character, not because he's broken the fourth wall and knows he's in a horror story, but because he knows convincing the universe that he's a horror villain will likely lead to the universe letting him survive just a little bit longer before he collapses into an exsanguinated heap.

However, Pact's approach to the specific mechanics and abilities of Blake and other monstrous entities of his ilk is much more in-line with how wildbow previously approached Jack Slash. Horror-movie style monsters are a grab-bag of entities called "Boogeymen" within the setting, with little in common outside of previously being people who had fallen through the cracks of reality and climbed out of the abyss changed.

The tropes of slasher movies are once again given mechanical justification: the monster drives conflict and acts unpredictably because being feared gives its more of a foothold in reality. It can't stay dead (and keeps returning for sequels) because it can always climb back out of the abyss again, or be summoned by Scourges to be used against their enemies. Some of the ways the in-universe boogieman mechanics reproduce these tropes are explicitly narrative justifications—they're stronger if the universe sees their ends as especially "iconic," and Blake seems to be empowered the most when he leans into character and goes on a rampage— but for the most part, you could explain their deal without having to refer to their roles as characters in a narrative.

III

The same couldn't be said for Homestuck's take on the serial-killer trope, which is explicable pretty much only in non-diagetic terms. Which is interesting insofar as its one of the only parts of Homestuck that doesn't at least provide a diagetic fig-leaf for a character following a cultural script.

Much like Pact's Otherverse, Homestuck also formalizes many narrative tropes as diagetic, in-universe mechanical laws of its setting. However, it doesn't bother giving justifications for why the setting has such mechanics. There's no equivalent to "they're like this because the magic of the abyss;" Homestuck's mechanical rules are almost more in the Funny Games vein of being inexplicable if you don't accept that they're the consequences of this being a story.

But the narrative rules it draws attention to are often all its own. See, in some ways the setting of Homestuck is meant to be an obvious set of fantasy Bildungromane. The characters enter a game world, Sburb, and are each deposited on a planet with almost stock templates: Land of Wind and Shade, Land of Heat and Clockwork, etc. Each are filled with a population of simple game constructs with little personality outside of what's needed to drop lore tidbits, and a slumbering denizen connected to a personal quest tailor-made for the player. This sense of "generic fantasy world made for a generic fantasy quest" is heightened by Homestuck's constant references to other media containing famous lands constructed from fantasy stories: Peter Pan/Hook, the Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Don Quixote, and The Neverending Story. (That last example makes up not only a substantial amount of aesthetic references, but also structural echoes; as Homestuck copies it by having a second half in which reader-stand ins enter the story, characters go from one world to another, and the role of author and audience gets muddled in a world-threatening manner.)

It seems like the game Sburb created the players different worlds to facilitate a typical Bildungroman adventure. Enter the fantasy land, meet the locals, learn the lore, defeat the monster. Unlike Jacob's Bell, The Lands of Homestuck don't make sense as anything besides a game construct, a way to facilitate this narrative arc. And the character's tendency to sidestep the quests set up by the Lands and skip through or break things feels like a subversion of those typical sorts of fantasy stories.

A complicating factor, though, is that the game was set up with the expectation that the players would skip around and break things. The entire game is composed of a series of time loops, including the characters creating themselves, creating the big bad in an attempt to defeat him, etc. Everything that happens in a game session was engineered to happen "by" the game—including the parts that seem to break the intended narrative arc of the Lands. There's plenty of things that seem to be breaking the "intended" experience: Rose taking apart her game world, Vriska reading the mind of her Land's consorts to find out all the lore they have pre-programmed in, Jack Noir killing the Black King before the players could face him as the intended final boss. But all of these turn out to be essential conditions for the game coming to exist in the first place, for the characters to create themselves, for the Lands to be created as game constructs in the first place. The game creates conditions that require the players to "cheat."

In other words, its not just that the comic is subverting a typical fantasy story. Its that Sburb itself is a game that runs on the narrative rules. Not the narrative rules of a fantasy Bildungroman, but the narrative rules of a subversion of a fantasy Bildungroman. The subversion is expected and built-in.

This subversion-as-the-rule is something Hussie enjoys making the narrative conciet of a story: early Problem Sleuth was written with the one rule that the audience could never be right about how the main character's office worked. Its also a feature of Homestuck's general approach to characters and dialogue. I think a good example of this is Eridan and Feferi's early conversations. They get introduced as the primary examples of a form of alien romance the narrative just got done explaining, a pair of moirails that the narrator declares are "made for each other". But of course, the subversion of that is already built in, as before Eridan's full introduction we learned that he wanted to be in a different relationship with Feferi. So when the first few on-screen appearances of these characters turns out to be their break-up texts, its a "subversion" of the destined romance the narrator set-up, but its a sign-posted and expected subversion.

But back in terms of Sburb's mechanics: players of the game who perform a ritual to achieve god-tier status can only die if their death is either Heroic or Just: that is, they can only die if it’s narratively satisfying. If a powerful character dies without it being a satisfying heroic sacrifice or a satisfying end to a villainous rein of destruction—in other words, if the death is uninteresting and narratively pointless, then the character pops right back up. Like in Worm, plot armor is a mechanic of the setting that the characters can find out about and exploit, and like with Pact's boogeymen, characters become whole new types of beings as part of fitting to a character narrative that'd require plot armor. But unlike in wildbow's work, Homestuck's God Tiers have little in the way of diagetic justification. Hussie knows that there are situations where an audience won’t accept the stakes set out before them—they can tell that the bad thing can’t be allowed to happen, because if it did the plot couldn’t continue or the story would suffer, so they know the bad thing won’t happen. Accepting this, they play around with the trope by having it literally impossible for the bad thing to happen if the story would be worse for it.

But where it gets weird is how this plot-armor mechanic gets applied to Gamzee, in one of my favorite sections of Act 6. Gamzee was introduced as a joke character riffing on the juggalo evil clown subculture, who later goes on a murderous rampage for reasons that are never made fully obvious in-text. He then scuttles about the story as a figure who keeps breaking the story’s rules: both the mechanical rules of how Sburb works and the rules of storytelling generally. This ramps up a lot in Act 6, where he puts on a fake god-tier outfit and starts showing up at times and places he should not be able to be based on the established mechanics of Sburb, which up until then had been incredibly strict parameters on the story. Unlike a lot of the items that loop back in time in convoluted ways, we don’t see how Gamzee appeared on Jane’s planet, or went to the future to raise the cherubs, or all the other shit he gets up to. And we aren’t given a reason for why he’s selling blood like an RPG merchant or why he’s raising the big bad or why he’s doing anything at that point. He becomes a deus ex diabolica, a character whose not really a character at all so much as someone who sets up the obstacles in the story and has no reason for doing so besides the fact that the story wouldn’t work if he wasn’t there to set up the stakes.

One especially odd thing about him though is that even though he never actually reached God tier, he seemingly couldn't be killed.

At first this seems weird. Gamzee is breaking a core mechanical rule of Homstuck: he's immortal despite not being God-tier. But then you remember that the mechanical rule of God-tier immortality was already just a formalization of a narrative rule: a character can't die if the story isn't done with them. Homestuck is breaking its diagetic rules, but following the narrative rules they reflect.

This meta-interpretation of Gamzee's immortality is strengthened by the fact that the above conversation is taking place between Andrew Hussie and one of their characters. Furthermore, said character is a fandom stand-in who later transitions into being an author stand-in. This character (Caliborn) is the main villain of Homestuck, and has been interpreted as everything from the chains of narrative inevitability, to the interface of the webcomic itself, to Homestuck readers with an unhealthy relationship to the work, to the viler tendencies of Hussie themself present throughout the comic.

Not the only such stand-in; nearly all the villains of Homestuck assume some authorial role, as Hussie has an ongoing theme of equating the author role to being a manipulator. Thus the most heroic characters generally are reactive rather than proactive, thus Doc Scratch/Vriska/Dirk/etc all trying to author the timeline or claim causal responsibility for events while manipulating other characters, etc. But Caliborn ends up representing some more of Hussie's specific creative tendencies, and is the only character that Hussie's in-comic self has a conversation with.

Notably, this conversation has pretty much the only instance of Hussie presenting all the weird obstacles of Sburb as something they've set up as the author.

Oddly enough, apart from this, the yellow yard, and the Spades Slick sideplot, "Hussie" as a character has all but no role in the story. Which is in keeping with their (possible farcical?) ethos of all their characters existing as their own entities/character types, with Hussie just expressing them. The Entities in Worm actually end up being more direct author figures than Andrew Hussie's own self-insert, since they at least perform the role of authors (control characters in a way that produces dynamic and interesting scenarios).

This is a part of why the Hussie stand-in apparently lacks knowledge of their own story, and gets surprised by it.

Hussie claims even they don't know where Gamzee got things, what he gets up to, or why he's doing what he's doing. The first two things are probably true, honestly. The actual author Hussie may not have an idea in mind for how Gamzee gets to any of the places he does, since its not really relevant to the story. It feels weird that he doesn't, since so much of the rest of Homestuck is tracking how various objects travel from one point in a timeline to another, but when there's no interesting answer to be constructed by the author none really has to be provided. Again, by this point Gamzee is a plot device that Hussie has dressed up as a funny clown for the audience's amusement, he's not really a character.

But if the Hussie stand-in is meant to be taken seriously when they say they don't know why Gamzee has the keys, then there's a disconnect between Hussie the character and Hussie the author. Since the keys do have a plot purpose that's revealed almost immediately, and that Hussie almost certainly had planned.

A weakness in metafiction generally is that having the author be a character in any real capacity lowers they're ability to be a true author figure. If the stand-in is surprised by something the author wrote, then they're not reflecting the author. If the characters kill the author stand-in, but the story keeps on going, then what the hell was the author representing?

IV

The only piece of metafiction I've seen that squared that circle is EIDOLON DISKA, which mostly suceeds because of its structure as an actual-play. It has a GM who serves as a narrator alongside being the voice of almost all the characters, but all the main characters are acted out by other people. So it can pull a lot of the standard metafiction moves in much more convincing ways. The narrator reveals that he's an in-universe character who they actually know, and whose been writing the story they're all in. When the player characters are still able to rebel and fight against the narrator, it works, because the PCs actually are representing other people making decisions apart from the GM. Even a character usurping the author ends up working, since it just means that character's player becomes the GM.

As you'd expect, EIDOLON DISKA is another piece that blends diagetic and narrative rules. Gods currently writing the story (aka the current GM) can't rewrite portions that previous gods wrote, because doing something so narratively unsatisfying would break their own godhood. Breaking the rules of the Eidolon rpg system also risks being usurped, since they're the narrative rules the story runs on, and the diagetic rules of Godhood are just narrative rules.

This gets most interesting when the characters end up dying, as will sometimes happen in an actual-play of a ttrpg where death is a mechanic. The podcast is divided into two time periods, with the first group being the founding members of their school's mystery solvers club. The second group are the members of the same club 20 years later, trying to solve the murder of the founders. Because the first group's death is a set event that the narrator already wrote would happen at a specific time, every time the characters in that first group die before that point, they have to come back. And once it becomes clear that they're characters, they become aware of this, and start abusing it. They take bigger risks, stop freaking out when their friends get hurt or killed in battle, start getting chatty with the increasingly annoyed grim reaper—in other words, they realize they have plot armor and start acting like it. Since they're aware of and secure of their plot armor, they use it more fully than Blake does. And since its an actual play instead of something written by one person, they're actually able to use that plot armor to be more than a villain thrown into heroes way like Jack Slash or Gamzee. DISKA isn't finished yet, but I have the most hope for it going into interesting places with plot armor out of any of these stories.

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (9)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Implied child kidnapping ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 9: Blood Is Thicker Than Water

Another night, another part of the mystery to solve. But first, you had agreed to go into work. Nothing was going to stop you, not even the ‘Prince’s orders’. Something about having a nightly routine kept you sane and grounded you in reality. Not that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, but you didn’t want to lose touch with the living. You didn’t want to become like… Leon?

You heaved a disheartened sigh thinking about it. You’d been giving the man the silent treatment ever since returning from the Spencer Mansion, and you didn’t like it one bit. Hurting people wasn’t something you enjoyed — be it ignoring them out of spite or acting in a way that would lead to someone’s unfair demise. It didn’t help that you were constantly being reminded of how powerless and insignificant you were. Was this the best you could do when taking a stand? Or was there something more?

Working felt like walking. You went through the motions: socializing with your colleagues, pandering to customers, planning out the next month’s events program, making a couple of calls along the way, and your personal favorite — sorting out the cafe’s finances. Even the Redfields showed up, informing you and by extension, Leon, that they were still on the suitor’s case and would have something juicy for you soon.

“Do you ever miss the sun?” you wondered out loud. 

It had barely been a week since you turned, but you were already bemoaning the fact that you wouldn’t be able to live to see it. Although the nights were longer now that the year had entered into its colder period, you had thought ahead, speculating how it would be like when summer returned again. That was depressing.

“Always,” Claire responded, patting your shoulder empathetically.

“Best not to think about it,” Chris chimed in, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You’ll get used to it at some point, and besides, there’s always YouTube.”

“Very helpful, Chris,” his sister huffed in disdain, forcefully backhanding her brother so that he choked on a bit of his beer.

“What the fuck, sis?” he groaned, wiping the beer stains off his clothes with his bare hands in annoyance. “On my nice shirt as well.”

For some reason the constant bickering between the siblings caused you to double over in laughter and they looked at you in amusement. After you recovered from your giggling fit, you pointed to Chris' bottle, asking, “So you can do that thing of actually enjoying what you eat and drink?”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe you can teach me?” you tested the waters. “Leon was supposed to, but—” You stopped yourself in your tracks, realizing that you’d have to share a lot more than you would be comfortable with.

Unfortunately, Claire was perceptive enough. “Trouble in Paradise?” she suggested, only to continue on her train of thought when you didn’t answer, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. He may be a prick who needs a nudge in the right direction, but he’ll come around.”

She pressed her arm against the wall and leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “And I hate to say this, but he’s actually a good guy.”

The expression on your face must’ve given away how you felt when Claire had uttered those last words. She quickly peppered it with, “He must’ve screwed up pretty bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say it’s one screw up after the other,” you finally replied.

Chris gave a low chuckle, “Sounds like him alright.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame the guy for trying though.”

“Alright, I’ll let you in on something,” Claire began, only to be interrupted by her brother.

“Oh man, not again! Can’t ever keep your goddamn mouth shut, can you?” he scolded.

“Shut up, Chris! She’s cool with us, you know that,” she retorted and he conceded, though you could still hear him grumbling in the background.

Turning towards you triumphantly, she continued, “I’ll keep it short. He saved my brother's skin; I owed him a life boon, and Chris probably did too, but he turned it down in the end.”

“Yeah, said something about not wanting to take advantage,” Chris piped up, shaking his head in disbelief. “To this night, it still floors me.”

What they had said gave you some pause. It seemed as though Leon had a bunch of demons to confront, and there was always an internal battle waging. You just hadn’t been able to break through. But did you want to in the end? Or would you just leave him to rot in his own misdoings? You weren’t anyone’s savior and you didn’t want to be. You simply wanted to do what felt right to you.

“Guess there’s a lot more to him that I don’t know about,” you mused.

Chris’ wide palm met your back with a loud thump that reverberated across your chest. “Hey, chin up, kid. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get there. Us Brujahs don’t give up without a fight.” His brown eyes lit up and crinkled, fine lines of crow’s feet fanning out from the corners. “And no matter what anyone says, I still think you’re one at heart.”

“Brujah, huh? I like the sound of that.” A crooked smile played across your lips as you laid your cards out on the table. “I’ve heard you’re fierce fighters. Mind showing me a few tricks? Just so I know how to fend for myself.”

Chris stood taller, eyeing you with curiosity as a sense of pride visibly swelled in his chest.

���I could throw in a supply of beers on the house to sweeten the deal,” you added, pointing at the empty bottle he was clutching at his side.

He barked out a laugh before responding, “Well, now that you put it that way, you’ve got my hands tied.” Placing his bottle down on a table beside him, he agreed, “Sure, I’ll give you some tips, but a word of warning: I don’t go easy.”

The rest of your shift went by without event, until Leon dropped by to pick you up for the next meeting planned that night. Since neither of you had gotten any real leads on the case yet, he thought it best to visit the Bakers first before heading back to NEST, where the Primogens' offices were and where Jill would be waiting impatiently for answers. 

In the jeep, the atmosphere was thick with tension, though along the way, he tried to cut through it with some advice. “I know you’re still upset and don’t want to talk, but I need to prepare you for this.” 

He tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “As Malkavians, the Bakers all suffer from some form of affliction following their Embrace. In this case, they believe a little girl called Eveline is part of the family, except no one else can see her.”

“You mean she’s invisible?”

The car swerved off-center as Leon glanced over at you, startled by your response. It was the first time you had spoken to him in a while. You clung onto the grab handle and yelled, “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”

“Shit, um, sorry!” He focused his attention back to his driving, quickly stabilizing the vehicle before he spoke up again. “And, uh, no. I mean, we don’t think she actually exists.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is that going to be a problem?”

“Not if you pretend she does,” he stated plainly. “Otherwise, they’ll get really provoked if you don’t interact with Eveline.”

“Right, thanks for the heads up.” You nodded curtly. “Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah, well, uh, just be—”

“Careful. Got it,” you finished the sentence for him.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he emphasized. “These folks have always been rather isolated from the Camarilla. Last I heard, they don’t take kindly to strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So, if all hell breaks loose in there, I want you to book it and run, alright?”

You frowned, shifting your gaze in his direction. If his intention was to allay your fears, he had done nothing but heighten them. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He flashed you a reassuring smile, but you could make out the hint of unease in the curl of his lips. “Take the car keys when we reach the place, so you have your escape route if needed.”

You let his words linger in the air as you kept quiet throughout the rest of the ride.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Reaching the outskirts of Raccoon City, you were traveling along Stone-Ville Road, where there was nothing but open land. The trees had been cleared from the forest, and multiple estuaries flowed from the Raccoon Dam. The area was sparsely populated, with only a smattering of houses spread out from each other in the distance. At some point, Leon made a left turn into a side road, heading towards a decrepit-looking estate that was slightly off the beaten track. It appeared to bear some similarities to the Spencer Mansion back in Arklay Forest, causing a spine-tingling shiver to sweep through your body.

“Designed by the same architect from the Trevor & Chamberlain fame,” Leon pointed out, seemingly able to read your mind.

“That guy from New York?” You remembered reading about him in magazine articles and the mystery of his disappearance as people mourned the loss of a genius.

“Yeah, so expect surrealist stuff, including puzzles and secret passageways,” he cautioned.

You balked at the thought of having to enter yet another labyrinth like the one at the Tremere Chantry.

“It’s just for a friendly chat,” he asserted, his calming blue gaze meeting yours. “I doubt there’s any need for us to explore the house, unless they make things difficult.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you muttered, tucking the car keys into your pocket as you stepped in front of a formidable, rusty gate.

It was unlocked, and as Leon pushed it open, it screeched on its hinges like a dead woman's wail, beckoning you towards the crumbling building before you, which was long past its heyday. The refurbished plantation house, where you assumed the Baker family lived, was part of a larger ranch estate, and it looked like something straight out of a slasher flick.

Leon pressed the doorbell, waiting to see if there was any sign of life. A light switched on, its mellow rays filtered through the window shades, and you heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards until the door swung open. An older lady with her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail peered at both of you in confusion. She wore a tattered, sweat-stained button-up blouse and a brown skirt. Her coarse and wrinkled skin still carried an unfaded tan, suggesting a life of manual labor, where she had tended to the animals and fields under the sweltering sun.

“Can I help you, miss, mister?” she asked in a heavy Southern drawl. “We weren’t expecting anyone at this time.”

“Ma’am,” he dipped his head politely in acknowledgement. “Sorry for intruding on you like this, but there wasn’t any other way to contact you.”

“Well, we don’t want no trouble, young man. Just mindin’ our own business, that’s all.” Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she fiddled with the hem of her cotton blouse, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at a blank space behind her.

Your attention was drawn to the area she kept looking at, and as you concentrated on it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had the strangest sense that someone was there, but you couldn’t make out any shape or figure, just an energy. An icy chill gripped your head, as if cold hands were feeling along the grooves of your brain. You shuddered, realizing that whoever it was knew that you were aware of its presence.

“We don’t want any trouble either,” Leon assured, raising his palms slightly to indicate a truce. “We just have some questions we could use your help on, regarding an attack a couple of nights ago.”

The woman still clutched onto the door apprehensively. “Why? Who sent you?”

“The Prince put us on the investigation,” he disclosed warily.

At that moment, a shadowy figure materialized behind the woman, taking a few seconds before you could make out his features in the dim light. He was an older man, around the same age as her, balding and wearing spectacles. Likewise, his yellow striped shirt and beige pants were worn and filthy, as though he hadn’t changed out of it for decades.

“Prince?” he questioned defensively, placing his hand on the small of the woman’s back. “What does the Prince want? We didn’t do nothing wrong, son.”

“No, you didn’t,” Leon agreed, quickly following up with an explanation to assuage the man. “We have the assailants in custody, but it appears they’ve been brainwashed and manipulated through Dementation — a skill that you’re well-versed in.”

The man eyed him like a hawk as Leon continued, treading on thin ice. “We thought we could use your expertise, and if you might’ve picked up on anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity.”

There was a pregnant pause before the man relented, “Fine, you got five minutes to ask us anything you wanna know, son.” Pushing the door wide open, he gestured for you to enter. “Come on in.”

As you stepped into the gloomy premises, he pointed at you, flashing a warning glance in your direction. “And no more snoopin’ around, young lady.”

Oh, right. You must’ve unwittingly activated one of your powers earlier to sense his presence, when he had relied on his Obfuscate Discipline to remain hidden. “Sorry, my bad,” you mumbled. “It was an accident.”

He nodded, turning around to make his way into the living room where a dining table was situated. “You girls can come out now,” he hollered. 

You saw a younger woman with jagged, short hair emerge in a similar fashion to how the man did before, sitting at one of the chairs at the table. Despite that, you greeted two people as Leon had instructed, and he followed suit. A round of introductions followed, where you learnt that the older couple were Jack and Marguerite and their two daughters, Zoe and Eveline, with the latter being the youngest at ten years old.

Marguerite disappeared into the kitchen for a bit, only to return with a tray of crockery. She handed out cups to everyone and poured a red, viscous liquid from a teapot. Jack grumbled in the corner that it was meant to be a short meeting, but at the same time, couldn’t help but appreciate his wife’s hospitality. Bringing the cup to your nose, the liquid smelled musky, like earth, and you wondered where it came from.

“It’s the best I can offer at such last minute notice,” she apologized, wiping her hands on her blouse as she sat herself down. Twisting her head in the direction of the empty seat next to Zoe, she cooed, “But Evie likes it, don’t ya, sweetheart? That’s it, drink up now. Little piggy’s blood is good for you.”

You watched as the cup on the table remained motionless, while Marguerite bombarded the invisible entity with sweet words of encouragement. Trying to ease the awkwardness in such a situation, you took a mouthful of the liquid from your cup. It was the first time you tasted animal blood and as much as you hated to admit it, it was incredibly bland compared to human blood. Like a simple gruel versus a gourmet meal. Then again, neither could bagged blood beat the real thing, though you tried not to dwell on it. You smiled politely over at Zoe, who threw you a sympathetic look.

“You’re new, huh?” she asked shyly, cocking her head as she gazed at you.

“Mm hm, about a week.” You took another sip and pursed your lips, swallowing the liquid like a chore that had to be done.

“Ooh, a baby!” Marguerite interjected, suddenly interested in the conversation between you and Zoe. You imagined she was the social butterfly of the group. “Maybe Evie can show you a few tricks.”

At this, Leon rested his hand over your arm protectively, forcing a strained smile. “Perhaps another time? We really should get down to business.”

“Ah, city boys and their ‘business’,” Jack remarked, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, what can we do for ya?”

You heard Leon speak, but his voice seemed to drone on with the others, and out of nowhere you started to enter a tunnel vision. In your line of sight, you spotted a framed photo of the Baker family, though something was amiss. There was a young man in the picture you hadn’t met yet. He was thin and lanky, and had a hoodie on that obscured part of his face. Leaning back on the couch, he stared directly back at you with a bored look in his hollowed eyes.

It took you a while, but you managed to snap out of it, uttering the first thought that came to your mind, “Is that your son, mister?”

All at once, the mood in the room shifted, taking a dramatic turn for the worse. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you as Jack ordered ominously, “Get the hell out.”

You opened your mouth in protest, but Leon beat you to it, rising up from his seat as he contended, “Look, she didn’t mean anything by it. We’re sorry, alright? Could we just—”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, boy!” Jack bellowed, his command resonating across the room.

Leon’s body grew rigid and he remained mute. Dread seeped into your bones as you observed the previous scene of peace and tranquility descend into an utter nightmare.

“Mama, Evie’s getting upset,” Zoe announced in a tiny voice.

“Argh! See what you’ve done now?” Marguerite shrieked as she stomped around the room in a temper tantrum. “This is your fault!” she accused, glaring at you and Leon.

“You barge into our house and threaten my family? This won’t do!” Jack shook his head menacingly as his eyes glowered. “I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

His eyes changed into an otherworldly shade and Marguerite joined him, speaking in tongues. They gazed at Leon as if engaged in a séance. However, Zoe remained separate from their antics, looking on in fright. You stood rooted to where you were, bracing for the worst, but nothing happened. It was only when you saw Leon sink to the ground on his knees, his face pale as a sheet, that you realized he was bearing the brunt of your transgression.

He was taken back to years ago, at the height of his blood bond, where he would do anything to win Ada’s affection. Her interest in him had begun to wane and he was sure she was seeing another lover. But this time, he would bring her the vessel that would change her mind about him and guarantee her everlasting love.

There he was, at that godforsaken group home, the one linked to the Catholic church he had frequented when he was still alive, and where he would sell his damned soul for a second time to the Devil. All it took was a flash of his police credentials and a charm or two from his arsenal of skills he had honed to entrance the nuns keeping watch over the children.

“Sherry, are you ready to go?” He extended a hand towards her. 

This wasn’t his first rodeo. Ada and him had been noticing the little girl for a while, testing to see if she would be a worthy vessel for the Prince himself. After all, Ventrues were extremely fussy drinkers and Wesker expected a Michelin star meal every single time. The only thing stopping him from delivering the girl over was a vague sense of morality he still had within him. But he was desperate enough now to dash it to the ground for a chance at his sire’s approval again.

The girl had dressed into her school uniform, a hairband holding her blond tresses out of her face as she peered up excitedly at him. “Yes, let’s go!”

She would have done anything to get away from the home where she never slept well and felt alone despite being in a room full of kids around her age. Where Leon was taking her sounded like a glorious fairytale. A palace with a prince, she imagined, a place where she would be treated to all the luxuries her current life could never afford her.

“Oh god, no!” he cried out, doubling over on the grimy floor of the Baker House. 

Sherry was haunting him again. Everywhere he looked, he saw multiple copies of her like a cracked mirror reflecting her ghost on its uneven surface. He heard layer upon layer of her laughter, jumbled and out of sync, mocking and taunting him. Paranoia sank in and he curled himself into a fetal position, pleading for no one in particular to forgive him.

“Sherry, please, we have to go!” he urged. 

This was years later, when he had some sense knocked into him from the time he hung out with the Anarchs. He wanted to right his wrongs, and free the girl who was never meant to be trapped in the underworld in the first place.

But she had changed. She was older and wiser, and knew exactly what she wanted — it was definitely not to leave.

Yanking her hand back, she kicked her feet, stamping on the ground as she yelled, “No! I want to stay!”

He was shocked by her absolute conviction in remaining within the prison where she was held, like a pretty songbird for the rest of the Kindred to gawk at. “But…”

“You can’t make me!” she screamed, red in the face.

Rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to do than stare at the crying child before him with his jaw hanging open. He thought he was saving her, like a knight in shining armor, but she didn’t need any saving. She was perfectly happy where she was.

“One day, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,” he babbled on repeatedly, reduced to nothing but a trembling mess before the Malkavians.

During the entire period when Leon appeared to be suffering from a mental breakdown, you were torn about what to do. He had told you to bolt the minute something like this took place, but you couldn’t leave him to fend for himself in this state. You didn’t understand what he was blabbering on about. Was Sherry his sister? Where was she? What happened to her?

A million thoughts raced through your mind, but you shut them down. You needed to pry Leon away from the family’s cold clutches and keep him safe. Mustering your courage, you approached the one who seemed to be the most reasonable of the lot. She still sat in her chair, gazing upon the scene with a vacant yet troubled expression.

“Zoe?” you called out softly, hoping it wouldn’t escalate the situation. “Please, we don’t mean any harm.”

Her eyes darted towards you.

“I know you’re just trying to protect your family,” you deduced, especially from the way they had been on edge the moment you stepped onto their property and inadvertently brought up one of their own.

“We need the information, but I swear to you we will keep whoever it is you’re trying to protect safe,” you promised.

Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with glassy eyes. In the background, you could hear Leon’s gut-wrenching whines of pain.

“Zoe, please!” you begged, your brows furrowing and tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes. You couldn’t bear to witness him in such agony any longer. It felt like your heart was shattering into pieces, though you couldn’t explain why.

“Eveline, stop,” her calm voice sliced through the air and the buzzing energy died down. 

Her parents came out of their hypnotic state and Leon stopped shaking uncontrollably, though he backed himself into a corner in fear. You rushed to his side, holding him in your arms as you checked his eyes to see if he had fully returned to the present.

“You stayed…” he whispered, reaching out to touch your face, as though he was trying to ascertain if you were real.

In an instant, you pulled him into an embrace, rocking him gently as you stroked his hair. “You’re okay, Leon. You’re safe.”

After a while, he relaxed into your arms and his breathing returned to its normal tempo. The Bakers exchanged worried looks but said nothing as they gave him time to recover. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I-I’m sorry about what happened there, son. Just been a lot going on these days.”

You turned around, deciding to take the reins as you spoke for the two of you, “I understand, and as I promised your daughter, we’ll make sure that, um—”

“Lucas,” Marguerite offered.

“—Lucas won’t get hurt.”

Jack nodded, taking off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “You see, how we work is through what others call premonitions or clairvoyance, and all that mumbo-jumbo.” 

Clearing his throat, he continued, “Well, lately we’ve been sensing a bunch of Sabbat activity in the city. Their symbols are everywhere, like little red hotspots across the center. They’re planning more of these attacks for sure, just heading down along the river.”

“Circular River?” you probed.

“Uh huh, the one closest to town,” he concurred. “And, uh, I’m guessing you were also here about the Cobweb?”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed anxiously as Marguerite took over. “It don’t always speak to us, and sometimes it’s hard to make out what it says. But we heard somethin’ the other night.”

She paused, adjusting her hair restlessly before she divulged, “It was Lucas’ voice, carried like a wave by a thousand voices, saying his name is nobody. That stood out, but we don’t know why.”

Nobody said they were nobody…

You caught a flicker of recognition in Leon’s eyes as you recalled what the man had said during Jill’s interrogation. Was Lucas responsible for all of this?

“Where’s Lucas now?” Leon asked, his voice still a little unsteady.

“He don’t want to be found.” Jack shrugged dejectedly. “My boy’s always been a real firecracker. Left home one day and never came back. We think he’s with them — the Sabbat.”

“But he’s a good boy,” his wife insisted. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“We just want him to come home,” Zoe added. “Evie wants her big brother back.”

The joy and curse of familial bonds. You could get behind that.

“We won’t breathe a word about Lucas,” you pledged, overriding your sire’s authority as you answered on behalf of him as well. “Right, Leon?”

You could see the discomfort in his expression, though he grunted an affirmative reply.

As Jack showed you out of the house, you thanked him and his family for their assistance, though a final question came to your mind. “Can Dementation have long-lasting effects?”

“With the right choice of words, it can.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

To play it safe, you took over the driving on the way back as you and Leon discussed the information you had gleaned from the Bakers.

“You think Lucas is the one?” you asked as you stopped at a red light.

“No, I don’t think he worked alone,” he opined. “It took two of the Bakers to bring me to my knees.”

There was a momentary pause as he clenched his fist at the memory, exhaling another deep breath of air. “I know we are talking about manipulating a group of lesser vampires, but unless he’s a prodigy we’ve never discovered, there were most likely others involved at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” you agreed, easing off on the brake pedal to switch over to the accelerator as the lights went green again.

“You still want to protect the guy, even after what he did?”

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing your knuckles to turn white. A promise was a promise, and there was more than enough bloodshed these nights.

“Yes,” you forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Got a problem with that?”

“I admire you,” he murmured, dispelling your misgivings. “Your compassion.”

You felt your anger dissolve as you followed up with a suggestion. “It’s never too late, you know?”

He gave you a weak smile but remained silent for the ride home.

Back at his apartment, you noticed that he still seemed shaken by the night's events as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, gazing blankly into space. Was he going to doze off in that position? You had already changed into a loose muslin nightdress and gone through the usual bedtime preparations.

Strolling over, you sat down beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “They spooked you real bad, huh?”

He didn’t laugh at your joke, though he acknowledged it. “You can say that again.”

This wasn’t like him at all. You grabbed his shoulder in concern. “Hey, you don't seem okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” he sighed, looking away from you to his lap. “And… thank you for back there.”

“I would never abandon you like that,” you stressed, even if you hadn’t forgiven him for turning you… yet. 

He glanced at you with his watery blue eyes in appreciation, but you could tell that his mind was in a distant place elsewhere. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw his hands quivering, and you hoped that what the Bakers had done wasn’t permanent. You knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but a part of you felt uneasy about leaving him on his own.

“Um, why don’t you sleep next to me today?” you offered hesitantly.

He peered at you quizzically. “You sure?”

“Yeah, just get dressed, alright?” You made your way up the stairs and waited for him by the bed before he could argue any further.

He joined you later, clad in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, keeping a respectable distance as he lay beside you. There was a nervous energy to him.

You drew nearer, caressing his arm tenderly. “We don’t have to talk about whatever you saw in there,” you affirmed. “I’m here if you need me.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear as a stray tear fell onto his face. Wrapping your arms around him, you closed the gap, breathing in his scent as you felt his hands along your waist. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before you released each other. His nose nudged against yours as his warm breath grazed your cheek. When his gaze lowered to your lips, you didn’t have to think or doubt what would come next. 

Leaning in, he placed his soft lips over your own, kissing you intimately as he savored your taste in his mouth. Instinctively, you kissed back, running your fingers through his messy locks as your tongue licked across the seam of his lips. A low moan escaped his throat as he pressed up against you, claiming your lips again and again. It was the last thing you remembered as daysleep enveloped you like a cocoon, lulling you into a temporary hibernation.

[sideprince]

Do you have any thoughts on how Snape would have acted if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin? While I can’t help but feel that there would be a part of him who would want to joyously gloat about James Potter’s son ending up in Slytherin, I can’t help but wonder if he wouldn’t still hold a mountain of resentment that would be incorrectly targeted towards Harry? Do you have any thoughts on this? Thanks!

I think one of the key aspects of Snape and Harry's relationship is that they don't really know each other and don't get a chance to. If you look at how the rest of the staff treat Snape, there seems to be respect for him and while I'm not sure how many of his colleagues actively like him, they certainly don't dislike him. We see this in how the rest of the staff treat teachers they don't like, such as Lockhart and Umbridge:

...Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

-Chamber of Secrets, Ch. 18

The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and the students were heading back to Gryffindor Tower with their bags, Harry saw, with immense satisfaction, a disheveled and soot- blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick’s classroom.  “Thank you so much, Professor!” said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. “I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the authority...”  Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.

Order of the Phoenix, Ch. 28

This leads me to think that since the staff have had some opportunity to get to know Snape, even if it's superficially (given how guarded he is), their treatment of him indicates that he's not as terrible and repugnant as characters like Harry make him out to be. And while it's possible that they were deferential to him because he can be intimidating, I don't really see a bunch of talented, established Hogwarts professors cowering. After all, Umbridge had more authority than Dumbledore and even fired a staff member, but the rest of the teachers didn't seem to be affected by whether or not they were intimidated by her. They also literally took on Voldemort and his army to protect the school.

The reason Snape is able to project so much of James onto Harry is because they don't know each other outside of the classroom. This is the same reason why Harry is able to resent Snape so much. We see a chink in both their armors during Occlumency lessons in OoTP, as Harry shows curiosity and Snape encourages it, but before they can start to get a fuller picture of one another as people, Harry wrecks it by invading Snape's privacy when he goes into the pensieve. It's integral to the plot - and the big reveal at the end of DH - that these two characters maintain a resentful distance.

If Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, they would have had more of a chance to get to know each other. The same way Harry was told by other Gryffindors as soon as he started school that Snape was strict, mean, and played favorites, if he'd been sorted in Slytherin he would have been influenced by their bias in the other direction, ie. in favor of Snape (and potentially against McGonagall given the rivalry with Gryffindor). Whatever resentment Snape had against James would have had an opportunity to soften over time as he inevitably got to know Harry better.

By his fifth year Harry would have been sitting down with Snape, not McGonagall, to discuss his career ambitions, and as his head of house Snape would have known Harry enough to advise him. We see throughout the books that heads of house like McGonagall pay attention to students even if they don't interact with them all that much directly. Had Snape had the opportunity to do so with Harry, and had he been motivated by his role as his head of house to defend him where necessary, he would have gotten to know Harry as an individual enough that whatever of James that rested in Harry's facial features would have fallen by the wayside.

That's only one part of how Snape relates to Harry, though. He's vocal about James, his friends, and his hatred of them, but he never mentions Lily once. We know Snape is a guarded man who frowns on wearing your heart on your sleeve:

‘I told you to empty yourself of emotion!’ ‘Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,’ Harry snarled. ‘Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!’ said Snape savagely. ‘Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily - weak people, in other words - they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!’ ‘I am not weak,’ said Harry in a low voice, fury now pumping through him so that he thought he might attack Snape in a moment. ‘Then prove it! Master yourself!’ spat Snape.

-Order of the Phoenix, Ch. 24

So it's no surprise that he doesn't mention Lily. He protected Harry at risk to his own life for the sake of honoring Lily's sacrifice. Clearly their friendship meant the world to him and left an impact, and because it's so tied up in emotion for him, Snape never talks about it. He isn't the kind of man to show emotion willingly, as we know. He smirks, he speaks softly when angry, he hisses, and he only loses the tight grip he has on expressing his feelings when he's triggered. There's a fair bit of information on the page about his relationship with James and how he feels about it, and how much of it he projects onto Harry (though I think that diminishes significantly from OotP on, especially after Sirius' death), but nothing at all about Lily except in his very private moments with Dumbledore.

What's even less straightforward is how much of Lily he sees in Harry. I wonder whether this was intentional on the author's part, but I'm curious whether Snape might get angry when Harry sasses him and talks back because his personality is so much like his mother's. So while there isn't much to go on, I think it's interesting to consider whether if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, Snape might not have seen more of Lily in him given the opportunity to get to know each other a bit, and whether he might not have appreciated that about him.

[acourtofthought]

Sarah telling us in an interview Elain and Lucien are happiest in nature. Writes in her book how they both come alive in nature. Sarah telling us in an interview that her husband is her biggest cheerleader. Writes into her book how Lucien (not Az) gives Elain credit for killing the king. Sarah telling us in an interview that she asks herself questions in regards to mating bonds, is there choice? Is it fate? Or is it both? Writes into her book that there is choice in bonds then has every single main character mated pair end up happy and in love together proving that it's both and gives an explanation for why some secondary characters were not well suited (because the male was cold and vicious - something we don't need to worry about with Lucien). Sarah telling us in an interview that her husband takes care of her, making sure she's fed. Writes Rhys, Cassian, Lucien, expressing concern over their mate not eating enough. Sarah telling us in an interview that she makes sure her FMC's end up with who they need to be with to offer them the most growth. Writes into SF Az trying to hold Elain back from achieving any sort of growth. Sarah telling us in an interview that there is someone special for Lucien down the road and that she did not put Nesta with Lucien as she once thought she might because they'd cause one another more harm. Reveals Elain as Lucien's mate in the series. Sarah telling us in an interview about the issues with toxic male masculinity in regards to how Tamlin treated Feyre. Writes Az going off about how Lucien isn't good enough, that if Graysen is killed good riddance, that he'd defeat Lucien with little effort and seems not at all concerned about risking the peace of their entire lands, that Elain is too pure and trusting for his dirty self and has him speak against her wishes to search for the Trove. Sarah telling us in interviews how Josh has stood by her side through her darkest times. Writes how Az ignored Elain for the first weeks of her depression, even drawing straws to avoid guarding her while Lucien fought across courts without his magic to make it to Elain's side. Once there he spent time in a place he knew he wasn't wanted, knew she was in love with someone else, all to help pull her out of her depression by demanding they get her outside and suggesting they have a healer look her over. Later writes Lucien giving Elain the space to return to Graysen, giving her the space not to have to make a decision about their bond because he believes it's what she wanted (just like Rhys once did for Feyre when it came to Tamlin) all while Az ignores Elain for an entire year because he can't stand that he didn't get a bond.

I'll take the author's words over a random journalist or those on the other side of the fandom any day.

Sarah is a MILLIONAIRE because of her fated mates stories yet some really want act like she doesn't know what she's doing? 😂 I think she and her bank would laugh if they could hear that.

[whumpbby]

Tbh i really hate when ppl act as if Jiang Cheng was "rotten from the start" and never actually cared about Wei Wuxian as a brother. Like, in the latter's case we can see he cares very much but that care is very much mixed in with many negative feelings, it's like when you love someone but they hurt you but you still love them, you want things to go back to the way they were before but they can't and they won't. On the former it's pretty much canon that he was an ok if high strung young man and losing everyone he ever loved in very close proximity to each other is what made him be the way he is today, he's not evil (he'd be hotter if he was) he's just angry and bitter for very valid reasons

I think it takes an extreme case of Protagonist Bias to think that. And not even following the actual protagonist's thought process - just being biased on their account in some sort of a projection. Kids these days got to used to having their bad guys colour-coded.

People are so desperate to cast a villain to the Happy Couple they will grasp at any straw to justify their opinion. They will ignore every piece of text that explains in detail why things are happening and why he's acting the way he is - even to the point of ignoring the protagonist explaining what happened and how. They will literally ignore the protagonist they're wanting to stan just so that they can have their villain. Wei Wuxian needs to be massively nerfed and woobifed for the whole shitshow to start making sense. Literally, a man with no agency! Poor helpless victim! The poorest little baby, no one suffered as he did!:(

Meanwile, Jiang Cheng's biggest sin in the novel?

He's not nice.

That's it. He tried to protect Wei Wuxian from his mother. He did all he could to bring Wei Wuxian home after the war against his best interests. He walked away from Lan Zhan being a dick when he could have easily caused him problems. He only ever fought Wei Wuxian when it was either staged or he was attacked first (in the much brought up ancestral shrine scene that people don't seem to have actually read).

But he's not nice about it. He's not even stoicly stiff like the ever-amazing Lan Wangji (who only ever cared about one thing in his life, and it's the man he wanted to fuck roughly in the bushes-_-).

It was barely a decade from having his whole extended family horrifically murdered, so obviously he should be fine by this point. (We can ignore the main plot of the decade-in the making-revenge-plot, that's not important, that's not a theme at all!) At least he should learn to repress his trauma! Because that ended great for the protagonist, right?:)

You need an intense case of lack of comprehension to miss the fact that, until the very moment of the Core Reveal, every bit of information Jiang Cheng had available to him pointed directly to Wei Wuxian being at fault for the tragedy his life became. The only doubt cast upon that conclusion was the spark of love that he could not kill. JC trusted Wei Wuxian for as long as he could. He trusted him - against a myriad of signs that he maybe shouldn't have - until the man killed his brother in law.

That's where any sane person would stop and reconsider.

And yet he was still willing to be convinced otherwise - until his sister died in his arms.

Like, this is what it took for JC to snap.

If someone says that Jiang Cheng was "rotten from the start" that only tells me they have skipped the whole fourth of the book that tells us in detail why Jiang Cheng wasn't a bad kid and how much he loved his family and Wei Wuxian. It tells me that they are here only for the romance and can't see anything else, certainly not character development (why would they? Wanxian don't develop throughout the story in any impactful way except of "oh, hey, we can be together and not care about anyone else - just like we did it before, but now with fucking included!"). It's like people who don't read books cannot comprehend the fact the author thought about this shit and put it there on purpose. It's not something that just happened to fill the pages between the Romance bits for the word count. That's, like, the actual meat of the story? These people have the critical thought capacity of a fucking tiktoker-_-

The author is telling us: look at these kids that were raised in a broken family and how it affects them as teens and young adults. How it affected their relationships with the people they love and demolished their self-worth. Look how a broken family can leave it's children scarred for life!

The idiots online: one is an innocent angel that never did anything wrong and the other an evil, selfish and hateful brat, got'cha! I am very smart!

-__-

[forestdeath1]

The willpower and resilience of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in canon and fanon

The main conflict in the characterization of these characters or why those who love the canon Sirius and Remus get so irritated by their fanon versions?

The primary difference between the canon and fanon Sirius and Remus is their willpower and resilience. Not masculinity, femininity, intelligence, beauty, or height. But specifically willpower, resilience, psychological strength, and typical coping strategies.

Canon Sirius

Sirius in the canon has remarkable willpower. Even in Azkaban, after a decade, he looks and speaks like a normal person, whereas other prisoners are insane, sitting in darkness, muttering. Dementors patrol Sirius's door around the clock in Azkaban, but it hardly affects him. Yes, he transformed into a dog, but what primarily helped him, why he didn't lose his mind, is the thought that he was innocent. This thought could not be sucked out by the dementors, but it preserved his mind and self-awareness, and he maintained this thought for many years. He had no strength, no wand, but still, when he saw Peter in a photograph years later and recognized him (good attentiveness even after years in Azkaban), he found the strength to finish what he started.

He retained his sanity in Azkaban for 12 years to make the right conclusions and then find the strength to escape from that prison.

Moreover, he didn't recognize authorities, even years later. He opposes Dumbledore in PoA, stands against his family as a 16-year-old teenager. Moreover, he was the first of the Blacks to be sorted into Gryffindor. He didn't even know if he wanted to be there, but on the train, he thought it would be nice to break the tradition. This was a deliberate act.

Tradition for the Blacks is not an empty sound. Constantly going against traditions is not just impulsive rebellion; it's the ability and willingness to withstand backlash, aggression, abuse towards oneself for disobedience.

Sirius didn't stop at being sorted into Gryffindor. He went further - made "wrong" friends, hung up nude posters, refused to accept family traditions, and eventually ran away. In a closed, strict, and dysfunctional family like the Blacks, it's quite difficult to withstand the constantly looming threat - primarily existential - to your life.

Yes, he lived 10 months a year at Hogwarts, but the threat remained always - he was always the one who was "against", they tried to bring him back, teach him, in Slytherin were his family and childhood friends, who surely interacted with him on a closer-farther level, trying to influence him. Sirius still found the strength to resist. This is a very high level of resilience, and most likely, his psyche always mobilizes in conditions of stress and conflicts. It's as if he gets a second wind.

In OotP, he's locked at home and left to fight not a real external enemy, but his memories. This is a different battle, and in it, he indeed becomes noticeably weaker. For such an active and proactive person, actions are needed; he can't just sit back, especially being locked in a house associated with many traumatizing youth memories. He's trapped in a system that formed beliefs in him that he's worthless by himself and only has value as an heir and representative of the Blacks. And now after Azkaban, he:

couldn't kill Peter,

again does nothing, just "chills" in his house, with Snape, Molly, and even the twins pointing this out.

In this situation, his enemy is within himself, and thus, fighting his internal demons is harder than confronting any external adversary.

Sirius's main enemy isn’t the external foe. The main enemy of Sirius is within himself.

Fanon Sirius

Fanon Sirius is considerably weaker. He's depicted as constantly crying in fanfictions, rebelling for the sake of rebellion (with a dash of sarcasm and odd jokes), and exhibiting teenage snarkiness rather than the ability to intentionally stand up to forces far greater than himself. He cries under parental abuse, breaks down, cries on his friends' shoulders, cries after the Prank, and this is labelled as moral growth.

This isn't moral growth. A person like Sirius doesn't develop morally in this way. It's an attempt to break him within the narrative. The silent treatment after the Prank is also an attempt to break his spirit. Firstly, canonical James would never have given Sirius the silent treatment as punishment (this is a literal fact from the canon). Secondly, canonical Sirius would have taken such "punishment" very poorly, exacerbating his childhood trauma and thrusting him into a vicious cycle of reactivating and manifesting his sense of worthlessness and attempts to conceal it. Why do this to him? Why hate Sirius so much? Why break him when there's another way, a real opportunity to help him?

Canon Remus

Meanwhile, Remus in the canon is entirely different. He too harbours a belief that he's not valuable in his own right. This sense of inadequacy. While Sirius chose a coping strategy of action, which is quite productive, Remus opted for avoidance. Remus consistently avoids, agreeing that yes, he's inadequate. Whereas Sirius prefers to prove that he can indeed be useful, valuable, needed, and important (to those he loves).

Remus stays silent during Snape's bullying, though he doesn't particularly like the situation. He doesn't throw a tantrum after the Prank ("you might" - quite a weak self-defence), while in fanon, Remus reacts like a true drama queen, being offended for half a year and punishing bad-bad Sirius. Remus in the canon avoids! In PoA, he avoids telling Dumbledore the truth because Dumbledore's opinion of him matters, though it's a false opinion since Remus essentially betrayed his trust. That is, Remus is prepared to pretend to be someone else just to avoid disappointment—again, avoidance. The situation with Tonks is the same kind of avoidance. And even when he explodes at Harry, he immediately runs away. Where was Remus after James's death? Unknown. He was roaming the world, perhaps struggling with alcohol (which is also avoidance), not trying to contact Harry. In his interactions with Harry, he also constantly maintained a distance, never emotionally opening up to him.

This doesn't make Remus a bad person, but it's his coping strategy. He avoids. He's not prepared to face a real conflict head-on. He often can't accept it, it's hard for him, he lacks strength. He's willing to die, yes (which is also avoidance), but when it comes to relationships and complex moral experiences, he closes off, dims down, and gets lost. He's quite weak (though sincerely kind and empathetic) in terms of willpower and resilience, fitting well into his secondary role within the Marauders. Again, this isn't bad, and such people are needed in any group; they're softer, they smooth some edges, they're often pleasant, Remus has a good sense of humour, and he's a sweetheart overall. But he's not a strong person in his own right; his coping strategy is not to fight but to retreat into his shell.

Fanon Remus

In fanon, however, Remus has a very strong will, readiness for conflicts, punishments, rescuing, finding solutions. In general, his resilience is increased, roughly speaking, from five to nine. As I've already said, in canon Remus reacted very weakly after the prank, but fanon Remus reacts like a true drama queen, being offended for six months and punishing bad-bad Sirius. That is, in addition to becoming the most important "alpha male" of the pack, he's also the main drama character of their pack, who literally throws passive-aggressive fits for several months waiting for Sirius to realize how bad he is. (The way the Prank is represented in fanon is an excellent example of how NOT to do it)

Conclusion

And it's precisely this difference in resilience, moral and psychological fortitude, and strength that causes the main problems in characterisation and people's attitudes. It's not so much whether Sirius is more feminine and Remus masculine. The main difference lies in their resilience. Sirius has become weaker. He could be feminine, short, and anything else, but remain strong and quite tough morally and psychologically. Remus might be tall, handsome, look masculine, but still remain less resilient.

But gender norms permeate everywhere, and if the fandom wants to see a feminine Sirius, they endow him with a conditionally "feminine" character. Though canonically, Sirius and Remus definitely even physically match their stereotypically gendered psychological characteristics—Sirius more masculine, and Remus more feminine, subtle, and short, as if wanting to disappear and blend in.

Many people's favourite characters have completely swapped places. And while this is interesting to develop and explore, providing additional fuel for the fandom fire (masculine resilient Remus + feminine Sirius = new relationship development options), I personally understand why this irritates many.

Because the primary characteristics, the very foundation of these characters, have been swapped.

Essentially, their very essence has been changed.

[thelordofhats]

Murder on the W Express thoughts, heavy spoilers under the cut.

Faust is the easier one to talk about—she’s lost her wifi connection, can no longer access Faustcord or Faustpedia. She’s adrift, and we get to see her cope with that. And it’s very, very good.

I’ve seen people say that her every move is being like, tyrannically dictated by the Gesellschaft, and I don’t really think that’s accurate. At least, not in the sense that she’s some unwilling slave. I would describe it more as… Faust made a (Faustian) bargain (with Faust) to gain knowledge of (Faust) all things. After all—she values knowledge very highly! How could she pass up on this? And I wouldn’t be surprised if the asking price wasn’t even that high.

But what she didn’t really realize is how much she valued the *pursuit* of knowledge, of pushing against her limitations. But now, with all of the information she could possibly ask for at her fingertips, everything is just a matter of entering a couple of search terms, and there you go. It’s all been done before. Sure, there are some blind spots. But given that there are innumerable Fausts, she isn’t really going to be the right Faust for the job of uncovering that. And so, slowly, a lot of who Faust was as a person sort of atrophied. Just follow the wisdom of the collective. If you try and find it out for yourself, you’re just replicating work for no reason—what’s the point? Just follow the path. Embrace the comfort of absolute certainty. Nothing needs to be left to chance.

But the child has, briefly, fallen out of the flask. She doesn’t have that Certainty to fall back on, and it has reminded her of the Thrill of acting on her own initiative. Of not knowing what’s going to happen, and making a gamble. Of actual collaboration with other people, getting different perspectives on available information and sifting the truth out of them. She has, momentarily, returned to the Flask. But a seed has been planted, and is going to grow. A hungry seed, that wants *more* than this gray Certainty. That does not want to be that husk of a self.

(Dante doesn’t parallel all of that, but they definitely reflect on how easily they fell into Faust Knows, Just Ask Faust, and how dangerous that reliance was).

I like it a lot.

Don Quixote is Don Quixote. Not a lot more to say there—because the character to *really* discuss is, as I will refer to her, Alonso Quixano.

We don’t see all that much of her. But there are a couple of things we can say for certain:

1) She is Crazy Powerful. So let’s take it on faith given what we’ve seen that we’re working on World of Darkness rules here, and the higher your generation number the weaker you are. Don is almost *certainly* at least on par with Elena. “One of the last fights in LoR” Elena. “Star of the City who killed a Color Fixer” powerful. Alonso can straight-up tell a lesser Bloodfiend to fuck off and die, and boom, he is dead.

2) She’s comfortable with authority and hierarchy. I’m pretty sure she has an Arbiter silhouette for a reason—not because she is/was one, but because that is the feeling they are trying to sell. She doesn’t explode the guy because he’s a monster, she exploded him because he transgressed against the hierarchy. Also the way she addresses Dante—others are Beneath Her.

3) Her drip is impeccable. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules.

Those are things we can state for certain. Past this is speculation on my part:

1) She fucking *hates* herself. She is, in her own mind, a horrible monster. And she views her own nature as being basically inescapable. She isn’t chasing redemption here, making up for past acts. She can’t be redeemed. She can’t change. She puts on the boots so that she can Stop Being Alonso Quixano completely. She *needs* to not be herself. Not a different version of herself, she needs to be somebody else entirely. It doesn’t seem like she shares Don’s memories at all. She wants to have nothing to do with herself.

2) She doesn’t actually believe that Fixers are the paragons of virtue that Don does. But she does very much like the *ideal*, all the same. She read a bunch of stories that were maybe children’s stories, maybe just press releases, and what she really loved was the idea of the kind of person who would believe in that, even though she never could. A pure heart believing in heroes, in chivalry, in Justice. So the persona of Don Quixote is carefully crafted to be that.

3) The Dream Ending is probably going to be some level of “sorry, you can’t just wish yourself out of existence like that”. Don isn’t getting full-on replaced by Alonso, but she is probably going to have some level of *awareness* of Alonso, and of her own nature. A gradual synthesis.

4) Alonso is a Blood Fiend. Don is… mostly not. I think Rocinante prevents Don from doing most of that kind of stuff (except, if I am reading this right, eating that one W Corp employee to recover).

5) I don’t think Dante can rewind bloodfiend stiff, judging by how it interacted with the Warp Train—if Alonso did go all out and needed to recharge, she’s gonna have to munch people, there’s no getting around it.

[ctheathy]

Hiii May I request for Nine x Sweet Seedrian Reader? Yandere or not im okay with any! Thank you for all the tails variety content its v much appreciated

Yandere Nine w/ sweet!seedrian!Darling

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author’s note: Good day, Nonnie =))) tried my hardest to get creative with this concept, especially as I headcanon the counterpart foxes [Nine, Mangey and Sails] into sometimes having visions of the memories the original Tails held.

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Delusional mindset • Illusions • Mention of Cosmo’s death • He views the core memories that belonged to Tails as hallucinations • Nine’s isolation

What a complex scenario you're in ... Seedrians are known to be quite the rare and valuable characters, their species being infrequent among the environment as a whole and especially when it comes to Nine’s dimension. It is an absolute miracle you haven't been taken in as a captive yet and even managed to meet Nine in the first place, regarding his hidden agenda and isolated workshop from the community. As soon as you cross paths with the fox, the interaction is going to be quite similar as it would usually go. We have Nine trying to reject any offerings of friendship all while being sarcastic and demanding for answers in the process. He just doesn't understand... He's behaving absolutely intolerable towards you and he knows it. He constantly gives you the cold shoulder and snarky attitude towards the smallest acts of kindness you provide.

But in a way... Your sudden appearance to him sends him in a constant state of deja vu. He might behave coldly towards you, but your kind and optimistic behaviour. It sends him in a complete daze whenever even a few words leave your lips. Almost as if his mind is filled with memories that don't belong to him. You remind him of someone he has seen among his daydreams and fantasies. Thoughts that also seemed to belong to another... Certain visions slipping into his mind of another seedrian he has never even met before in his actual life. One who has died within his own mind literal years ago.

...Cosmo ?

Your arrival starts to freak him out ever so slightly. He's had dreams of a similar creature that looked just like you... And you seem to hold similar characteristics too, as well as your kindness and generosity. He cannot help but compare you to the mere picture of the one pleasant memory he has formed in his own fantasies. Illusions he believes to have created for his own self benefit and to prevent the loss of his sanity due to the isolation he faced. He'll start to question your existence and become hesitant with his behaviour towards you ...almost seeing you as if you were a Godsend created just for him in order to save him from his own loneliness.

Nine tends to assume the information he's seen among his illusions as in truthful to your own history, not getting the fact that you both are two separate seedrians. He's always viewed Cosmo as some sort of angel back in the day when she used to corrupt his dreams. And now he cannot help but expect you and hold you accountable to fill that same void as she used to before her eventual demise. Nine tends to grow more attached to you due to his aspect of the truth between realism and the simple illusions he's had in his past. And despite his desire for a realistic point of view, he is quite frankly just determined to believe that you are in fact that same seedrian as the one he's always considered emotional support, that you came back to life in order to protect him from his dreadful fate.

And he will keep you to fulfill that mere hallucination of his. Even if it's against your will.

[twst-rose-prisms]

Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs

As the title said, I've been wanting to assign some Vocaloid songs for the twst characters as there are quite a lot of songs that specifically fit them! I'll include some lyrics part as of why I think it fits along with a small analysis + song link! I'm letting my Vocaloid braincells taking over this time hehe 🌹❤️

Shout out to my bestie @twst-megane for helping me out a bunch once again!!

Characters: All NRC students Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!

Part 1 | Part 2

🌹 Heartslabyul 🌹

Riddle: Bitter Choco Decoration

Pretty self-explanatory from the lyrics if you remember Riddle’s backstory with his strict, controlling mother. His entire life up until he became a student has been under his mom’s influence and it ended up him being too strict even to himself and his emotions - just like the meaning of the song too.

“Bitter choco decoration I long for the ideal that everyone wishes for Bitter choco decoration I reduce my individuality and my emotions to ashes Bitter choco decoration Kill your desires and ego, and bury them all underground Bitter choco decoration I've finally grown up, mama” “Surely, tomorrow, and the days after This hell will continue on and on. Alas, so please, just for now Let me keep the feelings I had when I was but a child And be the naked me.”

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

Ace: Lost One’s Weeping

Being a rebellious person, I’m thinking this song fits Ace the most as it’s about questioning the flawed system, questioning one’s being and purpose and that if we have to keep living under some sort of authority for the rest of our life. As you can already see how he acts in Book 1 towards Riddle - defying authority, questioning it, and being rebellious about it.

“Can you say the formula for area ratio? Can you say the dreams of your childhood? Who threw those dreams in a ditch? Hey, who was it? You know who it was! When are you going to grow up!? What is a grown-up anyway? Do you know who has the answers? Hey, what should I do? I don't care anymore!”

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Deuce: RAD DOGS

I picked this song for Deuce because of the lyrics, but also the beat and the meaning. The strong, powerful beat with the fast rap part really fit him don’t you think? The lyrics speaks of the struggle of going against the grain and choosing a life of freedom, although it comes with an effort and the ability to face everything life throws at us. We need to take a leap of faith and not settle for anything less than what we truly want, emphasizes the importance of taking a risk and restarting, not worrying about the reason or justifications for doing so, just like how Deuce acts in general with his goal and dream.

"My unseen devotion, sympathy that I don’t feel, and all the things that I can't have What kind of story? Whose story is it? If you don't have something, you'll start to want it, isn’t that right?" "Now, I’ve decided to restart for the first time Just saying “I want to be like you” is all you need, right? Not knowing the reason why, not needing the reason why I'm defying against fate’s rules" "Now, I’ve decided to restart and burst out Just saying “I want to see it” is all you need, right? Let that groovy sound beat, let me hear that heartbeat Since there’s no time to just stand still" "With the tailwind blowing Alright, we keep going forward without looking back"

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Trey: Ai no Material

Trey gives me a melancholic, casual and mature vibe, like an older brother who you can depend on anytime and he would give you his usual smile. That’s why I picked this song for him, although he always helps out everyone but I feel like he can be lonely sometimes, like perhaps he would need a helping hand or maybe some support. When I read the lyrics I think of him! I want to interpret it as Heartslabyul to Trey, who’s been always working hard for the dorm, and it’s the message that he might want to hear the most!

"(Jump into tomorrow!) It seems that the stars will fall down. (Always) You wear a sparkling smile. (With a smile) But even if it's hard, you hide the pain away, (Want to meet you) and without showing it, you just laughed." "I always want to smile, after all. It's not hard, so I'm going to try harder! I wonder if I've been embracing such a lie tightly, And kept walking all this time." "Fly up more, higher and higher. If it's you, you can do it with a smile. But it's okay even if it's just a little bit, It's okay to quietly depend on me too." "Words like "I'm alright" or saying "I'm okay", While showing your usual smile. I understand those lies you utter, And that's why I tug on your hand."

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

Cater: Phony

I know it might sound like it doesn’t fit him but in my opinion, this song sums up Cater as a character. We haven’t seen much of him in actual depth, but I definitely think he has more than he just appears. This song talks about how a person can mask and deceive themselves in lies, they’re aware of it, but they have to put it up in order to meet societal expectations. A constructed image or persona - the “fake” that they created and now they struggle to reconcile with their true self, and I think he is like that as well. (Aniplex please more Cater content for us we're waiting-)

“There’s no flower in this world more beautiful than an artificial one That’s because everything is manufactured from lies Antipathy world” “The rain of despair pelts my umbrella and Dampens my bangs and the hidden side of my heart Oh, it’s all so troublesome” “Before I knew it, the words had already withered The fruit of the truth is ripening within me Painting lies upon the mirror’s reflection, a “makeup” of the loss of oneself” “Before I knew it, the mimicked cries joined the unpleasant chorus Their eyes, leery, are dissolving you I am missing from the mirror’s reflection. There is only a “fake” that everyone mistook for someone else”

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🦁 Savanaclaw 🦁

Leona: Meltdown

The song is about one wanting to disappear, wanting to kill their old self and erase everything as if it’s like falling asleep. Though I think this song can be interpreted as having depression - and from what we see going on with Leona, I feel like he does show signs of it, I wish they would dive deeper into his story in Book 2 though! Other than that, I feel like the lyrics in here suit him a lot, especially the “sleep” part in the lyrics.

“I'm like a lighter out of fluid My insides are on fire Sometimes I wish It was all a lie” “I want to jump into the core My memories would melt into brilliant whiteness and disappear If I could jump into the core I feel like I’d be able to sleep again like I used to” “If I jumped into the core I'd vanish, like I had gone to sleep A morning without me Would be perfect All the gears meshing together That's how the world would be”

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Jack: Night Sky Patrol of Tomorrow

I think this song fits Jack a lot, the vibe is definitely for him but also the lyrics as well. The headstrong vibe, full of uncertainty but also full of hope for tomorrow, despite feeling hopeless at times but what is important is never give up and head forward to the future. The song’s meaning is to convey resilience, independence, and the importance of cherishing the present moment even when you’re uncertain about some things. You could also take this as a JackMC song haha, It just fits him a lot imo!

“I'm a boy who picks out his enemies to fight, Depending on whatever suits my mood. No hopes for the future, I wanted to be drawn in a dream." "And yet I fear the future, Hating tomorrow, wishing towards the past. There's no longer anything I can do, so I shout, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, please, don't come!" "If you want it, then make it come true yourself." Eh... You said that..." "I think about what I want, To go see you again tomorrow night. But I don't know, maybe you won't be there, But even so, we will always be one." "So, see you later, Sky Arrow, let's smile on! I want to be together with you in the future, However short our time may be, so I'll shout out, "Remember this day someday in the future, whoever we are then..."

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

Ruggie: Moonlight

This song fits Ruggie a lot in terms of lyrics, with numerous mentions of rags and junk and collecting them together to the longing of being your own self instead of being in someone else’s shadow and chasing after them. The singer compares themselves to a piece of junk or trash as they think of themselves lowly, just like Ruggie himself. The mention of moonlight here represents the singer’s ideal that they always chase after, like Ruggie’s life goal. Overall, the vibe of the song fit him a lot! (I recommend checking out the Vivid Bad Squad version too!)

“A collection of junk, Covered with a piece of rag, A replica in a hideous shape Words spun by someone else, Tones played by someone else, A fake made by a distorted collage of them” “Even being junks, even a piece of rag In the blood pumped from its heart There was only my own anger In the end, there must be nothing left Love, spun songs, and my name will one day fade away I wonder why? It's stuck in the back of my chest, A loneliness similar to the silence of a winter night” “Whether or not I'm a fake, Looking back now, there was only Those blurred memories” “The irony of being a waste, I'm trying to get out of the cliché, but "Another rehash of someone else’s work?" "Is even your identity a trick?" "Do you want love, even if you have to steal it?" “Even being junks, even a piece of rag After following the never ending dream I'll find my own light, all the way”

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🐚 Octavinelle 🐚

Azul: Delusion Tax

In my opinion, this is the most fitting song I could think of for Azul. As said in the lyrics, we all have desires of our own, and the person (or in this case Miku) in this song is a genie that can grant any wishes, but in the end everything come with a price, anyone who make a wish with her will have to sell a part of themselves. Sounds just like Azul and his contracts don’t you think? But you can also think this reflects Azul’s own desires once you know his backstory too! (and also, check out this amazing art by my bestie! Her art is amazing!!)

“Turning wishes into reality Right now, buy back your future! Afflicted by so badly wanting to do “that”, consumed by desire Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “Existing for your sake alone, mandatory affections and obligated kindness Though you should be satisfied, a voice from within shouts “NO!” We have an idiot on our hands, it seems…” “None of it will come true if you don't pay the price Look, just up and borrow the "desired amount" Reality is a bitter-sweet pill to swallow Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “That which you wish for, the person you think of, The past which you hate as well, they’ll all be as you like. The kind of face and chest you desire, they’ll be granted if you pay. “It’s a promise”

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

Jade: SHANTI

I feel like the song is pretty self-explanatory, as you can see with the lyrics. It just fits Jade’s job and his approach to the “targets” and lure them into signing a contract with Azul, but it’s probably just more than the said goal… But you can never tell with that smile of his as his “kind” words accompany his looks. Until you realized you fell into the trap and become one of Azul’s underlings due to the contract (at least, until post-Book 3, but who knows)

“Hey, young man who’s hanging his head Did something bad happen? If you’re fine with me, do you wanna talk about it? I can help you What in the world happened? That sounds terrible, brother I'll give you this, so cheer up, ok You can pay me back next time” “So you came again tonight Was it to your liking? The fee is this much Huh? Huh? Huh? So you can’t pay Then it can’t be helped I’ve got the perfect job for you, so come and follow me”

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

Floyd: Matryoshka

A chaotic, addictive rock song that is very fitting for Floyd. Why though? According to the wiki “Most of the lyrics are nonsensically vague or ridiculous, with a slight hint of pain or sadness, giving the overall song a crazy and psychotic feeling. Therefore, the lyrics have been interpreted in various ways.” Just like the moody guy himself, don’t you think?

“My headache is singing about a package The clock's hand is stuck at 4 o'clock No one would tell me why But the world has begun to rotate in reverse” “Ah, would you please dance even more? Kalinka? Malinka? Just play the strings" "What should I do with these kinds of emotions? Won't you please tell me? The signal reception is good, 5-2-4! Freud? Keloid? Just hit the keys Let's just laugh everything off Hurry up and dance, you group of fools!" "Together let's clap our childish hands To this intentionally deranged rhythm Surely, I couldn't care less about everything The world's temperature is beginning to melt”

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

[meowzfordayz]

when you’re a survivor — tanjirou, shinobu, tengen

Author’s Note: proceed w/ caution. Read CW (content warnings). You are seen, and you are loved. 🖤

when you’re a survivor — tanjirou, shinobu, tengen

Kamado Tanjirou x Reader, Kocho Shinobu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~1,400

CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, implied sexual *ssault, mild sexual content, PTSD

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Hi i was wonder if you could do a tanjiro x reader where the read gets sa'd and r*ped on a mission? And he finds about it after she comes back from it? I'm so sorry if that made you uncomfortable I'm just looking for comfort.

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Hi T!

Sort of emergency request? Bc the feeling fluctuates.

Deals w sexual trauma so if you're not comfortable taking it, I def understand. But if you can, could I get an Uzui and Shinobu with an f! r*pe survivor reader who just feel...dirty? It happened years ago but to this day I still can't let any of my partners touch me down there bc I just feel filthy, like my upper half is all good and perfect and worthy to be loved by my partners but my lower half is not. I can't even let then touch me let alone have proper sex anymore.

May I get some comforting words/acts from the characters? Thank you so much and once again if this is uncomfortable to you, please feel free to ignore.

Thank you, T ♥️

when you’re a survivor — zenitsu, inosuke

~faqs, image, image~

“You know I adore you, right?” Tanjirou murmurs, words tucked warmly into your shoulder.

You smile faintly, nodding as your fingers curl into the hem of his shirt, body hugged loosely against him, “I know.”

“And I’m happy to do whatever you feel comfortable doing.”

You stiffen, breath catching involuntarily at the sweetness in his tone — his obvious hesitance to approach the past overcome by his desire to reassure and comfort you.

“Y’know,” you’re mumbling now, rigid in his embrace, “We’re just cuddling.”

“And I’m happy to just cuddle,” he says, gentle firmness nearly unbearable, “I don’t ever want you thinking otherwise.”

“Why,” you exhale shakily, unwilling to leave his familiar heat even as your skin prickles unpleasantly, “Why say anything then?”

He frowns at that, unsure how to convey the aching in his heart without pushing you away; unsure how to tell you I see you without being misconstrued I see you, and I love you.

He tries anyway.

“I don’t want you to feel alone,” he begins slowly, “But,” arms tightening as his eyes squeeze shut, disappointment—toward himself, no doubt—heavy, “I’m not always sure how to be here for you.”

Your faint smile returns, hands traveling upward to cup his face, “You’re here right now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he agrees weakly But we both know-

“-and maybe it isn’t enough,” you whisper, his unspoken worry digging raw and sharp at his chest, its lines filled in with your admission, “Clearly,” a bitter chuckle forcing itself between you, “It isn’t.”

You pause, nails pressing tiny crescents into Tanjirou’s cheeks, desperate to soothe the wounds you’ve reopened; desperate to put your trauma and his fear into a neat, little box; all the while knowing it’s infinitely harder than simply choosing not to look.

“But I’m going to be okay,” you shrug, “At least, I’m going to continue existing.”

“You better,” he mutters, pulse jumping at the fleeting thought of losing you, “But,” still casted in shadow as he follows the focus of your pupils, “I don’t just want you to exist. I want you to thrive. I want you to be more than okay! I want you to be super okay!”

You laugh at that, a tired, hopeful sound smoothing the furrow of his brow, his lips tender as he kisses your forehead.

“To be honest, my love, I’m far from super okay,” returning his kiss with a small smile, “But with you, that future feels possible.”

Tanjirou wishes he could do more, say more, be more — you feel the intensity and sadness of his wishing every time he holds you. But he refrains from dwelling on the matter, settling instead for another kiss, his devotion sinking quietly along the curve of your jaw, the veins of your wrist, the softness of your mouth.

Sunlight shines dimly through half slanted blinds, comforter resting crumpled at your hips, back turned to Shinobu as you lie still and quiet, body curved into itself, staring dazed and exhausted at the glass of water on your bedside table.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me,” she repeats, sitting in bed beside you, her fingers dancing delicately across your bare shoulder.

“This isn’t something I can just talk about,” you mutter, barely audible.

“You don’t have to talk about anything in particular,” she clarifies softly You just have to talk.

“Fine,” you scowl, “Hi.”

She smiles despite herself, blinking to dispel the tightness in her lungs, permitting herself to feel relieved by your grumpiness, “Hi baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” you retort.

Shinobu pouts playfully, “You like my pet names.”

“Not right now.”

“Alright,” she snorts good naturedly, “Hi not-a-baby.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, resisting the urge to roll over and poke her, “What time is it?”

“Too early for you, I’m guessing,” she responds lightly.

You groan, tugging halfheartedly at the comforter until it touches your chin, “If you won’t even tell me, then it’s definitely too early.”

“Are you going back to sleep?”

“Hold me.”

Shinobu’s eyes widen, fingers freezing at your request, breath held sudden and heavy, mouth opening, closing, and opening again.

“I know I’ve been difficult,” you manage to whisper, slowly, tediously, unraveling, “I-”

“-have nothing to be sorry for,” she cuts you off firmly, palm warm as she cups your now covered shoulder, wiggling her way down the mattress, tentatively wrapping her frame around you, her presence feather light, “You have every right to be protective of yourself,” tone darkening, “Your trust and comfortability with intimacy were violated. Never apologize to me for setting boundaries that keep you safe.”

“But what if I set double edged swords?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that, scared of the greyness between supporting you and influencing you; scared of unwittingly allowing you to sabotage your own processing and healing, but also scared of pushing you too quickly and too far from an irrecoverable height.

“We can figure things out as we go,” she says evenly.

“In other words, I need a professional,” you tease gently, catching the tremor in her voice.

Laughter fills the bedroom as Shinobu finally relaxes into you, arm slung securely around your waist, chest plush and steady against your spine.

“You need to go at whatever pace feels safest,” she murmurs into your sun kissed hair, “And I’m here to hold your hand, carry your bags, the umbrella, whatever you ask of me.”

“Does it bother you?” you ask softly, tracing the lines of Tengen’s upturned palm, unable to meet his gaze, “That only half of me is loveable?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation, but it’s the first time you’ve been so direct and steady — so painfully wrong, yet undeniably true.

“Why do you say that?” he asks carefully, goosebumps raising on his forearm from the tenderness of your touch, “And what if I disagree?”

You chuckle lightly, eyes rolling as you poke the center of his palm, “I know you disagree, but that’s just how I feel.”

And I hate it Tengen thinks as he watches you, heart twisting at the adoration in your ministrations, “Well then, I guess it doesn’t bother me, because it isn’t my truth.”

“But it’s mine,” you push gently, “And clearly, something about it bothers you.”

Tengen raises a stern eyebrow, begging the storm in his sternum to settle, “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“It bothers me that you cherish all of me so deeply, and only half of yourself as fully,” his voice lowers, speaking rapidly, “It bothers me that I understand, to an extent, your self loathing and doubting. It bothers me that you don’t see yourself as I see you, just as I know I’ve seen myself in ways that you never could, because they’re sharp and cruel and untrue, and you’re the opposite. You’re bright, resilient, the warmth in my life, but you acknowledge a mere half of your brilliance,” sucking in a tight breath, nearly growling, “Because of some fucker.”

“Do you wish you could have loved me when I loved all of myself?”

Tengen’s eyes flash, a dangerous quiet underlying his unfaltering, immediate response, “My love is unconditional.”

“You aren’t waiting for me to get better?”

“I get to love you every single day of my entire life. Why the hell would I be waiting for anything else?”

“Tengen-”

“Of course I want you to feel okay,” he continues roughly, “Safe. Confident. That you can trust me with all of you. But I’m not waiting. I love you here, I will love you there, and back then doesn’t change a thing. Given the opportunity? I’d obviously beat that asshole to a pulp, preferably before they even knew you existed, but that opportunity is gone. What I can do now, what I try to do now, is tell you I love you, both halves of you, and fucking hope that that’s enough.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t crying, Tengen’s palm long forgotten as you sob into his chest, his arms flexed and solid around you, shielding you from the world, sealing his determination and declarations with a kiss to the top of your head, kisses to the tips of your ears, pulling away ever so slightly to kiss your tear stained cheeks, your nose, your eyelids.

“I can’t tell you what is enough,” you whisper shakily, muffled by his shirt, “But I can tell you that I’m grateful for you,” hugging yourself as close as possible to his pulse, inhaling the assuredness of his scent, “And I believe you love all of me, just as I know I love all of you.”

[queermania]

hi i recently came across your blog and have been reading a lot of your posts about dean - your analysis is incredible. i was wondering... in your opinion, which arc is the worst when it comes to deancrits misunderstanding/critiquing dean unfairly?

so i'm 50/50 on whether this is genuine or bait. if it's not bait, i'm so sorry. you did nothing wrong. it's just that i get a lot of messages that are so very clearly not in good faith. if it is bait, well, joke's on you because i'm about to say a bunch of words and a bunch of people are gonna read them. so.

i think the most obvious answer to your question is the jack situation but i'm not sure it's the correct one. i think by the time we even get to jack (especially to the soulless!jack part of it all) a lot of people have already sort of lost the plot on why dean is ever behaving the way he is. there's this tendency to view his behavior as if he wants to control the people closest to him, not always because he's inherently malicious but often because he wants to keep them safe and keep them close to him to the detriment of himself and everyone around him (see look! it's not deancrit! we know he's not a bad guy. we're just being objective and he's just an abusive asshole who should burn in hell). and i get it. i see how they got there.

but it's frustrating because how they got there is by 1. taking every single thing the characters say at face value despite all evidence to the contrary 2. viewing every single thing dean does or says in a vacuum, removed from any and all context and 3. forgetting that supernatural is a fantasy show, not a family drama or sitcom.

take the demon blood story line for example. what we actually see is:

sam going on a mission for revenge regardless of the costs or consequences (which he's aware exist even if he doesn't know the exact details)

dean trusting his brother until he finds out his brother's been lying to him

sam being told that what he's doing is wrong on multiple occasions by multiple people

dean offering ruby his gratitude for saving sam's life and an apology for the way he's been treating her since he got back from hell

sam continuing to lie and act shady

dean telling sam that he doesn't care about the demon blood/sam's powers, he just cares about sam's behavior

sam draining an entire nurse and killing her

sam almost killing dean on purpose and telling him he's not strong enough, not like sam is

dean still being the one to offer an apology when all is said and done, twice

but all of that gets rewritten into a narrative that dean's just never trusted sam ever and sam was only doing something he thought was right because all he ever wanted to do was save people. how could he have possibly known something bad would happen? and now, even after the fact, even after sam's said he's sorry, dean still won't let it go and holds it against sam forever and ever.

this narrative persists throughout the fandom. why? because sam threw a few tantrums in which he rewrote what was happening and dean didn't protest and the fandom took it at face value. (1)

on top of that, deancrits treat each of dean's actions like they happened in a vacuum. one of the things deancrits fixate on the most regarding the demon blood plot is dean saying, "You walk out that door, don't you ever come back." in 4x21. they treat it as if dean was being controlling and manipulative; abusive, even. they treat it as if, out of nowhere, dean just decided to throw john's words in sam's face because sam simply wouldn't do what dean wanted him to do.

what actually happened, however, was that sam had been lying to dean for twenty-one episodes about what he was doing, despite the continued warnings not to do what he was doing, and now sam had beaten the shit out of dean, left him bruised and bloodied on the floor, to go do something that dean had been told repeatedly, from a source they all thought was the authority on the subject, that sam absolutely should not do. what actually happened was dean made a last-ditch desperate effort to stop his brother from doing something dangerous that would get himself and possibly a lot of other people killed. (2)

the deancrits also tend to magically forget they're watching a genre show, not a family drama, when it comes to analyzing dean. the source of conflict wasn't that dean just didn't like sam's new girlfriend because sam trusted her more than him. it was that sam's new girlfriend was a demon and dean had just gotten back from forty years in hell being tortured... by demons. it was that dean had angels of the lord, before he really knew that the angels couldn't be trusted, telling him he needed to stop sam. it was that the angel that rescued him from an eternity of torture and becoming a demon himself told him that he needed to stop sam. (3)

so the deancrits frame this conflict between sam and dean as if dean just didn't trust sam, for no reason other than sam was hanging out with somebody else, and dean was being irrational about it. after all, sam was only trying to stop lilith, right? dean was being irrational and controlling. and it sounds reasonable when you look at it from their perspective. but their perspective is not anywhere near the reality of what was actually happening.

and that happens over and over and over again. we see it with the idea that dean is the one who is codependent to a toxic degree, despite all evidence to the contrary*. we see it with the idea that dean thinks all monsters should die and sam wants to save/help them. we see it with the conflict in s6 being framed as dean just being angry that cas dared to do something without his permission. we see it with the fractured relationship between the brothers in s8, both regarding dean's return from purgatory and the trials. we see it with the gadreel arc and then the one with cas leading the angels. we see it with the mark of cain and the darkness. we see it with mary's return. and then we see it with jack, and most especially we see it with soulless!jack.

it's all so exhausting. by the time we get to jack, the deancrit has piled up the same way the narrative circumstances weighing on dean have, and so it feels like deancrits are fundamentally misunderstanding the situation more severely than they have anything else but i think in reality it's just the last straw.

so i guess what i'm trying to say is that the misunderstanding isn't necessarily about the individual arcs but about the way a genre story is told in general. they're not just unfairly critiquing an arc. they're mischaracterizing a whole ass dude and fifteen seasons of a show.

*dean dragged sam back into hunting. how do we know that? because sam said it. what did we actually see? dean bringing sam back to stanford for his interview. sam going back to hunting because of the fire that killed jess. dean wanting to take a break from hunting several times while sam kept pushing them to keep going. dean wanting to split up and stay away from each other for awhile after the demon blood thing. sam leaving amelia before he even knew dean was alive/back from purgatory. dean telling sam to go back to amelia. sam choosing, all on his own, not to go back to amelia. sam basically threatening suicide because dean had other friends. sam unleashing the darkness because he didn't want to be alone. etc. etc. etc.

**also i think there is a conversation to be had about dean's coping mechanisms and trauma responses being less palatable though not anymore harmful than both sam's and castiel's but that's a different conversation for a different day

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Floyd Leech

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Floyd Leech

Supporting Roles: Mrs. Leech, Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Deuce Spade (if you squint)

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort/crack, reader is not amused, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, some Azul slander

Content Warning: Swearing, blood (Floyd)... just Floyd things (I love him, but he comes with his own warning). I don't want to spoil the ending but do read it with caution if it's triggering for you.

Word Count: 5 K

Author's Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I will be writing more parts for this AU, but for other characters; you can guess who based on the hints I left in Azul & Jade's stories. I switch between third and second-person point of view. I struggled writing for four days and then I wrote 4.7K in one sitting, help me; that makes like 15.5K words in like a week. Don't worry, I do touch grass.

Azul's Story & Prologue | Jade's Story

Floyd was a bundle of energy, swimming all over the place, and excitedly talking to anyone and everyone who crossed paths with him. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” He would pull at the fins and limbs. “Tell me about your soul match!!!”

Ever since he was first told the story of soul matches, he has been obsessed, wanting to hear everyone’s story that he happened to swim across. Most merfolk would just quickly swim in the opposite direction of the hyperactive young eel-mer. Others would humour him and tell him what it felt like. But his favourite by far was that of his parents.

“Mommmmmm,” he whined, clutching onto her tail fin so that she couldn’t leave. “Can you tell me the story of what it felt like feeling your soul match for the first time? And what it was like meeting dad?~” He looked at her with his biggest pleading eyes, even though he has heard the story at least a hundred times from both his mom and dad. “Pretty pleaseeeeeee?!~”

Mrs Leech giggled, and sat down on Floyd’s bed, kissing him on the cheek. “Aren’t you tired of hearing it, my little eel?”

Floyd clutched onto her arm, “Nuh-uh!”

She shook her head, amused by his insistence. “Well, for me, the song felt like the heat from the hydrothermal vents at the bottom of the ocean; down there it may seem dark and lifeless, but there was a scorching heat that feeds all life.” She hummed, smoothing over a little nick that she noticed on Floyd’s arm. “And the pull… hmm, it was gentle, like the tugging of a cool current.”

Floyd sighed with contentment, finally settling down for the night. “Mom, what do you think my soul match will be like?”

Mrs. Leech tucked his hair behind his ear, “There’s no way to tell before it happens, my little elver. Only the Sea Witch knows, and she’s very secretive about those sorts of things.” She got a mischievous look on her face and kissed his nose. “But whoever is your soul match, be they mer, fae, beastman, or human, they will be lucky to have you.” 

“Mommmm,” he tried to push her off, but he didn’t mean it, his giggling giving it away. He got serious for a moment and hugged his mom. “No matter who they are, I won’t leave the ocean for them. I love you, mom.”

Mrs. Leech squished her son against her, placing her head on top of his. “I love you more, baby… And whatever decision you make, to stay in the ocean or go live on land, I will always love and support you.” Holding onto him tight, she placed a kiss on his forehead. “And that goes for you too, Jade, I know you’ve been eavesdropping.”

The mass of blankets on the bed on the other side of the room stirred, revealing Jade who was acting like he totally wasn’t listening in on their conversation. “I know, mother. I love you too,” he whispered, letting out a yawn, tired from the day.

“Oh, how did I get so lucky to have not one but two sweet sons?” Mrs Leech, still holding onto Floyd, swam over to Jade’s bed and had him in a tight squeezing hug. “I love my little elvers!”

Both of the boys accepted the squeezes, Jade patting his mom on the shoulder and Floyd giving back his own tight squeeze. Like mother like son, as some would say. “We love you too, mom,” they said in unison. And they all sat there, in a big eel squeeze.

…

…

When he woke up on his sixth birthday he was confused. Why wasn’t there a song in his head? Where is his soul match? 

The good mood that he was bound to be in that day morphed into confusion, hurt, and anger. But not like the anger he was used to, it wasn’t a hot, short, spark, instead, it felt festering, an ember wanting nothing more than to combust. So instead of staying around his brother, who only pissed him off even more because, of course, Jade got his soul match. He swam out to the edge of the reef so that he could be alone.

“ARGH,” he lashed out at a rock, scratching at it with his claws. “WHY?! WHY ME?!” He screamed out into the drop-off, no answer but the dark looking back at him. He felt hot, briny tears start to fall down his face. He had dreamt of this day since he could remember. He wanted someone to not be scared of him. For someone to look at him with joy. For someone to accept him. “WHERE ARE THEY?!”

By the time he got out the initial rage at his situation, he floated down into the sand and looked up to the filtered sunlight coming up from above. He was still angry, but it was something small, and it felt like there was something stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get it out. Sighing, he closed his eyes… I really should go home, mom and dad are probably worried…

Wait, what was tickling him? Ugh, that’s annoying. “Scram off, would ya,” he muttered, opening an eye.

Beside him was a cleaner shrimp, going over the new scrapes he had given himself during his moment of anger.

“Eh? A little shrimp like you is brave,” he chuckled, poking one of its feelers. 

The shrimp ignored the poke, still cleaning the wounds before moving up and going through his hair. Floyd was half tempted to swat it away for bothering him, but he didn’t. For some reason, he found the shrimp’s actions comforting. Like the ocean sent this little cleaning crustacean to help him heal. He was still mad, hurt, and confused, but if some shrimp didn’t mind him, even at his most volatile moment, then maybe not everything is as bad as it seems.

Eventually, though, he had to leave his new little friend and go home, and face his family. He wore a happy mask when he entered the home, trying to hide the festering part of his heart.

“FLOYD!” His mom crashed into him, squeezing him tight. “Where were you?! I was worried sick! Are those scrapes? What happened to you?!”

He squeezed her back, not as strong as he would normally, debating whether or not to tell her the truth. But he saw his dad and Jade whispering to each other, no doubt talking about his soul match. His eye twitched, “I was just curious about where they were,” he whispered. He wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the entire truth. The truth could always come later.

…

…

…

Floyd was walking around campus, bored out of his mind. Azul and Jade were at the entrance ceremony for the new minnows. As was his main source of entertainment. It wasn’t his fault that Riddle was so amusing when he gets all red from anger, just like a goldfish. So he was just going around, a bad mood apparent, so people quickly walked in the opposite direction when they saw him.

“Ugh! There’s nothin’ interestin’ hereeeee,” he muttered to himself. Even getting lectured by Beakfish is better than utter boredom. He rolled his eyes, thinking about Azul giving his stuffy formal speech to the new minnows in their dorm. “Tch, boring.”

Hmm, the sun did sure feel nice though. Maybe he would take a nap like Sea Lion did. So he found somewhere where he wouldn’t be disturbed, stretched out, and closed his eyes, dreaming about the Coral Sea. 

In his dream, he was back near the drop-off, by the rock he nearly destroyed during his outburst when he first realized he didn’t have a soul match. Over the years, he wasn’t nearly as bitter as he once was, but it still stung. But he was alone, his little shrimp friend was nowhere to be seen. “Little shrimp,” he called out, but his crustacean friend didn’t appear. Maybe they too got tired of Floyd and left. Or maybe they were… maybe a predator finally caught up with his little friend, as he always thought they were too brave for their own good.  “Little shrimp?” He called again, but still nothing. But then a net came down from above, catching Floyd in its wake. He struggled, but something else was there. A faint song.

Floyd gasped awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding and racing. “It was just a dream, snap out of it,” he hissed to himself, shaking his head. Ugh, why did it feel like he was still caught in that net though? And that song was still stuck in his head. Stupid dreams.

Oh, the sun is setting, Azul and Jade have got to be done with sorting out the freshmen by now. Heh, wonder if there are any interestin’ minnows around? Eh, Azul is bound to bring some entertainment by getting some chump in a contract. That at least would bring in some fun. 

Groaning, he stretched out and got up, making his way back to Octavinelle, still not quite in a good mood but not in a bad one. He was just floating in between.

Azul and Jade were conversing among themselves when he entered the room, Azul looking more agitated than he would normally. Huh, that’s intriguing. 

“Somethin’ has all your tentacles in a bunch, Azul.~” He leaned against the house warden’s chair, getting into his personal bubble. Ugh, he still felt weird, and that song was still there.

Azul shot him an annoyed look but ignored him trespassing in on his space. “It has nothing to concern you with, Floyd,” he huffed, massaging his temple. 

If even mentioning that it has nothing to do with him, it just puts Floyd on a mission to discover exactly what it was.

Jade chuckled, mirth in his eyes. “He will just keep on pestering you if you don’t tell him, Azul” his smile was sharp and he looked over to his brother, his smile widening. Floyd also smiled, getting further into Azul’s bubble.

“Fine,” Azul snipped, “if you must know the ceremony didn’t go exactly as planned.” This didn’t satisfy Floyd, as he just got further into the bubble, prodding. Azul sighed, knowing it would just be better to get it over with so he didn’t have to put up with the eel’s antics. “I had to clean up someone’s mess, chasing their wayward familiar throughout campus. They also sent the mirror into a tizzy. Satisfied?”

Well, that wasn’t all that interesting. “Awwww, and I thought you’d finally met your cuttlefish, Azullll,” he whined but got out of his personal bubble.

Azul’s eye twitched at the nickname Floyd had dubbed his soul match but didn’t say anything, knowing that if he did, it would just end up with him lying in bed with a splitting migraine. “No,” he dusted off his chest, “we have no control over when we meet our soul matches, and you know that.”

Oh, Floyd knew that very well, he didn’t need Azul subtly shoving it in his face either. Even if the other man wasn’t privy that Floyd didn’t have a soul match.

…

…

It’s been about three weeks since Floyd had that dream, still feeling like he was stuck in a net, and that infernal hum of a song hasn’t left his mind. By now, everyone on campus was aware that it was better to avoid him than risk getting on his bad side. Ugh, is this what it feels like to have a soul match? 

He squinted his eyes, and stopped dead in his tracks, pausing in the middle of the hall. Is this what it feels like to have a soul match? His eyes went wide, still frozen in the hallway. IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE A SOUL MATCH?! After all this time, was there finally someone?

He started running, letting the pulling sensation guide him. Feeling the ebb and flow of it, the only kind shared with soul matches. The dream! Maybe the Sea Witch sent it to him? Finally gifted him the blessing that she has given others? He tested the waters by messing with the volume of the song in their head and he felt it falter like they were surprised by it. Where are you? But as soon as he started giving chase he stopped. People gave him weird looks, but he paid no mind to them.

His hands turned into fists, and he shook slightly, his joy and excitement shifted into bitterness and anger. WHERE ARE YOU?! He shouted at them through the song, letting out over a decade of bottled-up emotions into the open. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! But all he got in return was the gentle hum that had started it all.

“Floyd, are you alright? You seem out of sorts,” Jade hummed, eyes boring into his soul, searching for what could have possibly caused the sudden running. Calculating.

Floyd frowned back at his brother, but he knew that he couldn’t just outright tell him, as he hadn’t told anyone about his soul match situation. So instead he bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw a bit of blood to distract himself. “Eh, thought I just saw Goldfishie, but it was just someone else.”

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?!

…

…

You were enjoying some lunch with your friends — if you can call Ace and Grim your friends. At least Deuce was considerate enough to make up for it… most of the time. The four of you were chatting, mainly Grim and Ace complaining about homework and the professors, but your mind was elsewhere. In the three short weeks that you’ve found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, they have somehow squeezed their way into your heart, even though they make you question your life decisions on more than a daily basis. On some days it was an hourly basis.

But something else has also been on your mind than just being in some sort of dimension themed on a beloved yet problematic movie studio. There’s been a song playing in your head since you arrived. It hasn’t been very loud, but it seemed to change in its emotion frequently. You could tell when it was excited, bored, frustrated, and you had no idea why. It was fine the first day, as you just chalked it up to inter-dimension technicalities, but it has persisted.

So, there you were, sitting with your friends, enjoying your lunch. Or you were until you were rudely interrupted by the song in your head screaming at you. “Shit,” you hissed, dropping your fork, and covering your ears even though it did nothing to help with the sudden onslaught.

Ace, Deuce and Grim all gave you looks but turned back to the conversation they were having. Not thinking anything of it. But someone else noticed, pushing up his glasses before leaving. You paid no attention though, as your attention was elsewhere.

Inside your mind was a voice, it had started quiet, and full of wonder. Where are you? But then it turned venomous, bitter, sharp, and screaming. WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! You didn’t really know what to make of it, and it’s not like Crowley in all of his ‘kindness’ and ‘generosity’ gave you an encyclopedia to explain any of this stuff.

Deuce shook your shoulder gently, pulling you from out of your thoughts. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been staring at your food for a while…”

You shook your head, ignoring the screaming in your head, and gave him a reassuring smile. “Ah, I’m okay, just was thinking is all. Nothing to worry about,” you shoot him a smile as reassurance. Deuce still didn’t look convinced but he trusted you and dropped the subject.

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?! The voice seemed to scream through the melody. WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!

…

…

…

Floyd’s mood has only been worse since finding out that he had a soul match. Even with the amount of obsessive screaming he sent their way, all they sent back was that gentle hum. Ugh, it was really annoying. He was half tempted to just hunt them down so at least he knew who he was mentally screaming at. But he would always clench his fists and stop himself. As much as he would like nothing more than to see their face as they saw him running at them, he wanted a good reason to do so. 

Yes, even though he was harassing them through the song, he wanted a reason why he should seek them out. He was just… hurt. He didn’t know how long he would feel like that, but it was something that was difficult to shove aside, even if they were the person that was supposed to make him happy. He couldn’t just forget about it.

Sighing, he clutched his shrimp plush to his chest, inspired by his shrimp friend from his childhood. “Eh, little shrimp, what should I do? Should I seek them out, or should they find me?”

The shrimp plush just looked back with its unblinking eyes. If it were his actual cleaner shrimp, they would have shuffled around in his hair, looking for scraps and reassuring him in their silent manner. Even though the plush was silent, it was still reassuring in its own way.

He heard Jade shuffling around in his sheets, but Floyd knew that Jade slept like a rock. He shook his head and walked to the Octavinelle lounge area, plopping down onto a sofa by the aquarium, criss-cross apple sauce style, still holding on to his shrimp plush. His reflection looked back out at him, eyes searching, but there were no answers. Just his own conflicted thoughts, the gentle humming of his soul match, and the snores coming from some dorms.

The gentle pitter-patter of footsteps took him away from just staring into the aquarium. “Azul?”

The footsteps and intruder on Floyd’s pondering and staring at the aquarium time was none other than Azul, wearing his house robe, matching slippers, and a hair bonnet. Azul squinted his eyes, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Floyd,” he sounded just as equally confused to find someone else awake at this un-Sevenly-like hour. “What are you doing up?”

“Eh, couldn’t sleep,” he wasn’t in the mood to tease Azul for his sleep get up. “You?”

Azul sighed, “You and I are in the same boat then… don’t you dare utter a word about this to Jade.”

Floyd looked down at his shrimp plush and looked back up, “Don’t mention it.” He looked back into the aquarium, most of the fish were hidden away for the night, but other sea creatures were swimming and scuttling about.

Azul cleared his throat and continued on with his business, whatever that might be at this hour, leaving the eel to his thoughts. Perhaps he could solve not just Floyd’s current down mood but also answer someone’s burning questions.

…

…

…

By some cruel twist of fate, you found yourself in the Mostro Lounge VIP room against your will, having been carried there by none other than Jade Leech. You would have put up a fight, but in all honesty, you would rather be carried bridal style than like a sack of potatoes. You don’t even know how you ended up in this situation, last time you checked, you hadn’t made a deal with the scheming house warden of Octavinelle. So why did he seek you out?

“Prefect, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve been… troubled,” he said in his overly nice business voice.

You squinted your eyes at him, knowing better than to trust anything he says at face value. “And what exactly have you heard,” you countered. 

Azul looked at Jade and he exited the room. That doesn’t seem like a good sign. He waited for a few moments before continuing. “That you’ve been distracted, not all there. Oh, don’t give me that look, I don’t want a contract with you,” he rolled his eyes upon seeing the stink eye you were giving him.

“Then what do you want, Azul? Last time I checked you only did things for others if you got more out of the deal than them.” Yeah, you were being sassy, but he tricked your friends, your dumb friends, so he deserved the attitude.

Azul sputtered at the comment before pulling himself together. “I’m just looking out for others in the same boat as us.”

You raised your brow, “Us?”

“Yes, us, Prefect,” he pinched his brow. “I take it that you have a song in your head?” You nodded and he took it as a sign to continue with his monologue. “Much as I suspected then. You have a soul match, which I take wherever you’re from doesn’t have. You have a bond with a mer. It can be familial, platonic and or romantic, a match made by the Sea Witch herself.”

You blinked, letting all of that sink in. “Uh, but why?” Literally, why? Why would the Sea Witch match you with a merperson?

Azul just gave you a look, “Why not? It is not for us to question why the Sea Witch chooses our matches.”

“We should question it though,” you snap at him. “We should question everything! Like why? Who is it to determine our fate?” The stress of the past few weeks had finally caught up, and you were scared, stretched too thin, and tired, so damn tired. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” You smacked your hands against the desk. You were going to say more but shut your mouth. You were talking to Azul Ashengrotto, who was known for using others' weaknesses against them. Why were you letting this all out into the open with him of all people?

Azul sat there, with a small shocked expression. “Just let me know if you want help finding them,” he slid you a piece of paper. Despite your better judgement, you take it, shoved it into your bag and left without saying anything else. “Hope to speak with you soon, Pre-”

You slam the door in his face before he could say anything else, shaking slightly. Sighing to yourself, you take out the piece of paper, now crumpled and creased.

“A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.” That is what the Sea Witch told us. I know what you think of me, Prefect, but all I want is for you two to meet. If you wish to seek them out please feel free to see me. - Azul Ashengrotto

…

…

Floyd sat in the Octavinelle pool, still festering over everything. Even though he was still in his human form, he didn’t want to leave the pool. Everything was quiet until he hissed in pain. Ah, so after all this time his soul match decides to make a commotion? Damn, they sounded pissed, their anger clear in the song… but also tired, so tired. Huh, so maybe they weren’t too different from him.

Where are you? He sang, reaching out softly this time. He didn’t like this feeling, at least not from them.

Surprisingly the song snapped back at him, much like his shrimp friend would when he came to them all banged up. Why do you want to know?!

Well, that gave him pause. Heh, maybe this Shrimpy was more gutsy than he gave them credit for. Heh!~ I want to findddd youuuuu!~ He sang, a giggle escaping his lips.

I don’t want you to find me! Leave me alone! I didn’t ask for this! I don’t know you! Stranger danger! STRANGER DANGER! 

Floyd could imagine a shrimp scuttling back and forth, snapping their pinchers at him and it made him laugh even more. Awww, Shrimpy!~ I’mma hunt your ass down nowwww!~

The song rang sharp, oh yeah, he would be hearing a ringing in his ears for a few hours due to that. GO AWAY!

I’m comin’ for yo ass, here I comeeeeee~ He laughed one more time before pulling himself from the pool, excited for what was about to come. You kept me waitin’ for this long, only fair for me to find you!~

Azul could hear Floyd’s laughter from his office. This wasn’t exactly how he was imagining on helping Floyd find his soul match, but oh well, it’s best for them to meet on their own terms anyway. Hey, you could have done it the calm way, but with Floyd as your soul match, he should have expected the eel to do things the… well, the Floyd way.

So Floyd went running down the hallway, still soaking wet and dripping water everywhere, laughing like a madman. Some other mers looking for their soul matches gave him weird looks, but they minded their own business. “Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyyyy!~ Where are youuuuu?~” He sang out, still laughing.

Meanwhile, you were on the way back to Ramshackle, eyes shifting everywhere since your soul match seemed to change their tune all of a sudden. I’m coming to get your ass, Shrimpy!~ Kept on being sung in the song, so yeah, you were rightfully scared shitless by this entire situation. Who the hell wouldn’t be if they were in your shoes?! So you were trying to make a beeline back to the safety of your dorm. Maybe you should have made that contract with Azul after all… instead of being hunted for sport by someone that some octopus lady decided was your match. And why did they insist on calling you Shrimpy? Weren’t shrimps like the cockroaches of the ocean? What the hell my guy?

“SHRIMPY WHERE ARE YOU?!~” A loud voice rang down the hall.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You chanted to yourself. Should you try to make a last-ditch effort to make it to the safety of your dorm, or should you hide in the broom closet until they leave? Run? Hide? The increasingly fast footsteps made the decision for you. It was a dumb decision, yes…

...You booked it.

I HEAR YOU RUNNING SHRIMPY!~ They sang in your head with glee. Heh, cute that you think you can escape me!~ Best hope you’re a fast runner Shrimpy!~

What was their issue?! LEAVE ME ALONE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!

They pouted. They had the audacity to pout?! But Shrimpyyyy, you’re my soul match! Stop runnin’ so I can catch you! My ‘problem’ is that I don’t have you!

Oh Sevens, you can hear them catching up with you. You would never make it to Ramshackle at this point. Shit. Maybe you should have hidden in that broom closet… THERE! An open door! You got in and quietly shut the door, holding your breath.

“Shrimpyyyyyyy! Marco!” They called out, running past the door. “Come on, Shrimpy! It’s not nice to hide!~”

Once you couldn’t hear their footsteps or their horrifying version of Marco-Pollo, you took in some much-needed air. Silently thanking your lucky stars that they went by your hiding spot. Yeah, maybe you would sleep in here for the night since they would still be able to get you until the sun rises… if you could even sleep.

SHRIMPYYYYYY, WHERE ARE YOU?~ OH SHRIMPYYYYYYY!~ Yeah, definitely not sleeping. So you sat in the closet until you saw the rays of sunlight seep beneath the cracks.

Yeah, you’re taking Azul up on his offer, since this is starting to feel like a horror movie and not something from fanfiction you would read back at home.

…

You looked everywhere before setting foot into the Octavinelle pool room since your soul match was definitely in there somewhere. “Pst, Azul?” You called out, hoping that he would answer.

His head popped up from the pool, a faint glow coming from beneath the water. “Ah, Prefect. Did you change your mind?” 

If by change your mind you mean be scared shitless, then yes. But you held the comment back. Eugh, it felt like you were being dragged into the water, but you stayed on land, the song deafening. If it was this loud for you, then it was probably the same for them. “Help me,” you pleaded with the merman.

“How so,” he said, smug.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, “They are hunting me, Azul. Hunting me!” You hissed. The water rippled, but nothing emerged. “So help me, Ashengrotto!”

But the air of helpfulness he had earlier was gone, this bitch. “I could just go get him for you-”

“NO!” You shouted, realizing your mistake last minute. No, no, no! NO!

Oh? Shrimpy came to me instead? Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyy?~

You tried to get away from the edge of the pool, but you weren’t fast enough; a clawed, webbed hand latched itself onto your ankle. And a familiar face smiled at you with a wide grin. “Found ya, Shrimpy!~”

You gave Floyd a sheepish smile, “Heyyyyyy, can we talk about this? Hahaha…”

Floyd just giggled before dragging you into the water with him, “Nope!~”

Ah, shit-

Bonus!

Azul and Jade looked at you and Floyd, Floyd still curled around you like an extra-large living feather boa.

“You know, not even I would be so cruel to the Prefect,” Jade looked at Azul, giving him a side-eye. But there was a large sadistic smile on his face.

Azul rolled his eyes, “I gave them the chance to meet him peacefully, and they chose not to. It’s not my fault. And you are a horrible liar, Jade.”

Jade just chuckled before looking back at his brother. “Hmm, it’s Floyd, so we both know it would most likely end in something… chaotic.”

Azul sighed, but he was happy for Floyd… and glad that his bad mood was gone, dealing with that for the past few weeks has been hell.

“AZUL! JADE!” You yelled, trying to pry off the eel, “HELP ME!”

But the two just looked on and didn’t interfere.

Fin!

I'm really happy with how all of Octavinelle's parts came out, and I had a lot of fun writing the characters. I have 7 more characters for the Soul Match AU planned for the future; no promises of when those will come out though, mainly waiting for more lore... since SOMEBODY seems to get the most traffic.

Hoped you enjoyed reading!

Link to Masterlist