#oh god i'm not tagging all these people

[lylahammar]

IT'S FALIGON DAY BABYYYYYY I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS DAY SINCE 2018 WE'RE POPPIN MASSIVE BOTTLES 🥳🎉🐉🍾🍻🔥

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

[nebuladreamz]

A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN

This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops

But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.

So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D

@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa

@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez

@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid

@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff

@cacaocheri

(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)

AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT

@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn

@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts

@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1

@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide

[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]

[ex-textura]

okay so i've gotten some help and now i've got the power of gif and gay on my side so. Y'all are doomed 😈

[transmechanicus]

Everyone scandalized about Chilchuck being thirsted over, a character who is objectively 29, which is 40+ in human years, who has 3 grown daughters and a divorce, just because of how he's drawn, you have my biggest congratulations. I truly did not think the complex physiological system of a human body could be managed by a creature with not one singular brain cell. How you managed to stagger over to the computer and bash your skull against the keyboard with enough accuracy to post remains a further mystery. I am going to put you in a maze filled with buzzsaw goblins and will use the results to write a second PhD thesis.

[flying-cat]

bakudekus never lose part 752

[introspectivememories]

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out. 

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?" 

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry. 

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up. 

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was. 

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone. 

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands. 

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file. 

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.” 

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

[bedlamsbard]

I have been dealing with how much some people hate Gambit for TEN YEARS and one of these days (not today) I am finally going to snap and pull this story. TEN YEARS. TEN HUMAN YEARS.

[carriesthewind]

.

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[hungerpunch]

stop engaging the person with a huge fanbase and giant platform about rpf ships!!!! stop engaging the person with [checks] almost 40k followers + monstrous amplification power through reposts, reblogs, screencaps, etc. about rpf ships!!! stop it stop it stop it STOP IT!!!!!!

[ts2psp]

big fucking ts2 spreadsheets

i'm clearly a very exciting person so a while ago i compiled three ts2 spreadsheets, listing each premade playable* sim's aspiration (+ hidden tokens although they don't affect statistics at all they're just for fun), along with a hopefully legible table listing the frequency of each aspiration as compared to gender and age group.

this ⬇️ is the largest spreadsheet, which comprises all 206 playable sims, including those from subhoods/unihoods and stealth hoods. this is also, unfortunately, the one which may be most prone to inaccuracies, as i don't play with subhoods/unihoods whatsoever and relied on the sims wiki for my information. the sims wiki, however, is rather incompetent and has been known to incorrectly list aspirations. i apologise for any errors, though ultimately i am lazy and i just didn't feel like manually installing all of the unihoods in a testhood and manually scouring simPE for all of this given that i don't play these hoods in the first place :( i can promise that it'll be mostly accurate though

this ⬇️ next spreadsheet is comprised of all 123 playable sims from the main hoods, including EPs, which is more my wheelhouse. you can trust me with this one i swear </3

and lastly! this ⬇️ right here is for only the base game hoods, and to be honest i find it the most interesting. remember that asterisk? this is for playable sims *and a select few NPCs that are plot-significant in some way, so kaylynn langerak, gordon king, crystal vu, abhijeet cho and meredith lillard. this was the first of the spreadsheets i made so idk i was having fun with it i wanted to include circe's friends for this one.

if there are any errors (there probably are) lmk and i will update it :)

[crow-caller]

good angel turns 7 goddamn years old on the 22nd I'm going to lose my head. did you know bad end is 6.5 years old. Did you know Angel radio is 8.5. Did you know I'm 27. did you know time continues ceaselessly forward and so do i

[recitedemise]

𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗵. That said, when speaking of his paramour with the mention of Mystra, it is not a slight. After all, Mystra, the goddess, wasn't just his lover; she, as she'll remain, controls the Weave.

As a scholar of magic for all his life, Gale is thoroughly enamored with it. He's always had the Weave, casting spells and enchantments for as far as his long memory goes, and there's no power on earth that can pale that devotion. When Gale says Mystra's name, in love, it is never with yearning. When he tells his lover that he forgets his goddess when he stands beside them, he means quite literally that he foregoes his faith. He doesn't mention her like a quality benchmark with which they've somehow surpassed, but to punctuate how wholly he has fallen for them. With a new, honest love, he is turned entirely from Mystra. In fact, so utterly bewitched, he's like a born again man. He isn't besotted by his goddess, held stalwart in her sway and seemingly, abundantly, and frustratingly stubborn. After that disastrous relationship, I promise you, Gale spares not a single thought toward her. She might have control of the Weave, and as such, stands still his only patron deity, but his new, doting lover? They become something of a new religion for him; he is most devoted, taken by, and so loyal to them.

He does not see Mystra. Do not assume he still feels for her.

He's a man of one love, and they will have all of him.

[ortetbones]

Happy belated anniversary to the Lunter episode of all time, Thanks to Them. In honor of Flapjack here's a 6.7k fic that's my personal take on the Harpy Hunter concept. With lots of Lunter fluff because you know me. This is a pretty cozy one, so I hope you enjoy!

"I think Belos is possessing me again."

He said it in such a collected and matter-of-fact way, as though he were giving a formal report on the results of a mission. But even through the darkness and her own exhaustion, Luz could see the terror in Hunter's slightly retroreflective eyes and feel the way his hand trembled against her side as he prodded her awake.

She sat up to face him, doing her best to remain calm and not add to his panic. She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand, tenderly rubbing her thumb across his lower eyelid as she gazed into his blood-red irises. "Well," she whispered, "Your eyes aren't blue, so that's a good sign. What makes you think something's wrong?"

She noted that despite his anxious state, Hunter couldn't help but melt into her touch, his eyes slipping closed as he leaned into her hand. "I just feel...off," he mumbled. "And my skin feels weird, like there's something crawling beneath it trying to get out, and I don't know what it is and..."

"Okay," Luz cut in gently, trying to stop him before he started hyperventilating. "Does it feel like that everywhere, or somewhere specific?"

He paused for a moment to think, then squirmed and rolled his shoulders a bit. "My back."

Luz hummed sympathetically. "Mamá said she thinks you might have some eczema there, remember?" she said. She tried to disguise her relief at having come up with such a plausible explanation so Hunter wouldn't know how concerned she had been. Sure, she had been there to witness Belos's death, but she had originally thought she'd witnessed it on the Day of Unity, and they both knew how that had turned out. "It's been getting kinda chilly lately, so it might be flaring up because of that. But if you want, I could take a look and make sure that's all it is if it would make you feel better."

"If you don't mind," Hunter whispered, scratching at the scar on his right cheek self-consciously. Luz reached over to turn on her lamp while Hunter unbuttoned his pajama shirt a bit so he could slide it down to reveal his upper back.

A gasp escaped from Luz before she could stifle it.

"What?!" Hunter whipped back around to face her, his eyes darting frantically over her face as he tried to read her expression.

Luz was speechless for a moment, her hands reflexively covering her mouth as she stared at what was currently protruding from Hunter's back.

Feathers.

Vibrant scarlet feathers were blooming outwards from his spine and extending across his shoulder blades. They were thin, Hunter's pale skin still visible beneath them, but feather follicles and sheaths dotted the rest of his back, suggesting that more feathers were yet to grow.

"What is it?!" Hunter cried, jolting Luz out of her thoughts.

"It's not Belos," she reassured him quickly, running her fingers through his undercut to soothe him. "Actually, I think it's...Flapjack?"

"Flapjack?" Hunter repeated, now sounding more confused than distressed.

"Here." Luz grabbed her phone off her nightstand and snapped a quick photo. She then passed the phone to Hunter so he could see.

Hunter stared at the screen, his mouth slightly agape. After a long moment's silence, his hand moved to clutch his chest and his lip quivered as tears began to well up in his eyes.

Luz let him cry, making sure to give him space and not overwhelm him as his body was wracked with choking sobs. When he had calmed down a little and managed to catch his breath, she placed a supportive hand on his right shoulder, and he immediately turned back to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "He's still here," he sobbed into the crook of her neck, his voice cracking. "He's...he's here with me. I mean, I knew he was, but..."

"Yeah," Luz whispered, hugging him back. "I get it."

Hunter sniffled and let out a weak laugh. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to go back to sleep tonight."

Luz handed him a tissue, which he accepted gratefully. "You wanna come snuggle with me?" she offered, shuffling to one side of her bed to give him room to lie next to her.

Hunter hesitated for a moment, but nodded bashfully. Luz noticed him wince as he began to readjust his shirt back up onto his shoulders, and he let out a hiss under his breath. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted. "It kind of stings where the feathers are coming through. And my back muscles feel really sore too for some reason."

Luz was at a loss for how to help. The only other person she could think of who had grown feathers like this was Eda, but her transformation had been instantaneous, and the circumstances were a lot different. Not to mention that despite their closeness, Luz knew Eda's curse was a subject she wasn't always open to talking about.

"I have some painkillers you can take," she said. "Why don't you try to get some rest for now and in the morning we can have Mamá take a look? She's worked with birds before at the vet clinic, and she definitely knows more about this stuff than I do. I'm sure she'll have some advice."

Hunter took the painkillers as instructed and slowly eased himself into bed beside her. "We shouldn't bother her with something like this," he murmured, pulling the covers over himself and nestling into his pillow as Luz reached over to turn her lamp off again. "She has more important things to take care of than whatever's happening to me."

Luz frowned and booped his nose with her finger, giggling at the disgruntled face he pulled. "We weren't gonna put ourselves down like that anymore," she reminded him gently. "Your safety and happiness is something very important. Plus, she, uh, does kinda love you like her own son. You realize that, right? She's been calling you 'mijo' for years now, dude. And even if that weren't already the case..." Luz's face broke into a grin. "You have boyfriend privileges now! She's gotta help her future son-in-law."

Hunter let out a squeak and and pulled the covers up over his face, but his blush was still plainly visible on the tips of his ears. Luz couldn't help the awww that escaped her lips at how adorable he was. He always flustered so easily.

Hunter peeked out from under the covers at the sound of her voice. Upon seeing Luz smirking at him, he scowled and pointedly turned over to face the other way, wincing a bit as he moved his shoulders. "Good night, Luz," he said stiffly. Luz noted that his ears, though flushed, were wiggling up and down slightly, betraying his happiness. "Good night, Hunter," she replied cheerfully.

***

Luz awoke to something tickling her nose. She blinked wearily, a blurry red shape slowly coming into view. She smiled as the events of the previous night began to come back to her. Hunter's feathers!

She rubbed her eyes and let out a yawn, turning to squint at the clock on her nightstand. 8:05. From the soft whistling of Hunter's snores, she could tell he was still sound asleep. He had gradually been getting better about not waking up at 6 AM all the time, but he would still typically only let himself sleep in until 7 at the absolute latest. She was glad he was finally managing to get a decent amount of rest. She wondered if lying next to her had helped him sleep better. She smirked as she imagined the flustered expression he'd make if she suggested that to his face. She glanced back at Hunter and froze as she suddenly got a better look at him now that her brain was awake enough to process what she was seeing.

It seemed that her assumption that the presence of more sheaths on his back meant he would be growing more feathers soon had turned out to be true. What she had not managed to predict, however, were the set of small wings that now extended from Hunter's shoulder blades.

Luz's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at him in awe. True to the wings of a cardinal, they began at their base a brilliant, deep scarlet, fanning out to become almost translucent at the tips. She didn't dare reach out a hand to feel his delicate feathers for herself, lest she wake him from his peaceful slumber, or worse yet, find herself to be the one in a dream.

She at last managed to tear her eyes away and nestled back under the covers beside him. She tended to just get out of bed whenever she woke up, but she didn't want Hunter to awaken to his new transformation alone and start panicking. She scrolled absentmindedly on her phone while she waited for him to wake up, browsing some webpages about birds and feather growth. While interesting, she wasn't really sure how much would apply to Hunter's situation.

Around half an hour had passed before she felt Hunter begin to stir gently beside her. She climbed out of bed as silently as she could and walked around to kneel on the floor in front of his side of the bed so he wouldn't have to roll over onto his wings to look at her. His eyes slowly fluttered open to meet hers, and his face broke into a warm smile at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Goooood morning, Hunter!" Luz chirped in a singsong tone, playfully ruffling his hair.

Hunter chuckled. "Morning," he mumbled in reply, rubbing at his eyes. His voice was raspy from having just woken up. "You're in a good mood."

"I have some exciting news when you're awake enough for it," Luz said, bouncing slightly in place. "How are you feeling?"

"Hmm. I'm not quite sure yet," Hunter said through a yawn. "I don't think the feathers sting anymore, but I'm still pretty sore." He sat up to stretch, lifting his arms to the ceiling as far as they would go. As he did so, the wings on his back stretched in turn, arching into a fiery halo behind his head. Luz must've let out a gasp, as he suddenly froze and gave her a quizzical look. "What?"

"You have wings!" she blurted out, unable to contain herself any longer.

***

Luz hurried on her way home from school, a skip in her step. Hunter had opted to sleep in this morning, so she hadn't gotten to have breakfast with him before she went to school and she couldn't wait to get back and see him.

It had been about a week since Hunter's wings had sprouted. They were small, barely bigger than his head, certainly unable to be used for flying. He had also not figured out how to control the muscles yet, assuming he could, and they tended to get in his way, repeatedly bumping into things whenever he turned around and making it uncomfortable for him to lie on his back or really change his position at all once he lay down.

But Luz had not seen Hunter so effortlessly happy in years. While he had certainly come to terms with his grief over Flapjack and had been doing a lot better for a long time now, in just this past week he'd had an energy and spark to him he had not displayed since his beloved Palisman's death. It seemed like every day Luz would be stopped around five or six times with an insistent "Look, look!" from Hunter as he spun around to show off his new feathers again, his wings bobbing merrily behind him.

It had given him inspiration for a new sewing project, too. The wings were cumbersome when it came to wearing a shirt, so he had taken to wearing his button-downs backward for the time being, but he had been excitedly rambling to Luz all week about his plans to modify his shirts to have snaps at the back. He had even shown some of his designs to Camila for review, and Luz felt a swell of affection in her chest when she saw how much more comfortable he was around her now.

He had not experienced any other transformations as of yet, though his feathers had at this point grown in so thick she could not even see the skin beneath them anymore. He looked so incredibly fluffy and soft, and whenever she was around him it took all of Luz's restraint to not shove her hand or her entire face between his wings to feel his beautiful scarlet down for herself.

Luz hummed to herself as she rounded the corner to her backyard, eager to see her boyfriend. A flash of scarlet caught her eye, and she turned, expecting to find him. What she instead discovered was a clump of red feathers stuck in the bark of a tree she had just passed. She frowned in confusion, glancing at the other trees nearby, and found them in a similar state. "Hunter?" she called out. There was no response.

She tore through her backyard, following the trail of befeathered trees. She could feel panic starting to set in. Had there been a struggle? Was he hurt? She stopped in the center of the clearing, looking around wildly, tears starting to cloud her vision.

She suddenly heard Hunter swear loudly, and she immediately rushed toward the sound of his voice. At last, she found him, and she was relieved to see that he did not appear to be injured. The main thing that caught her attention, however, was the fact that Hunter was currently rubbing his back against one of the trees with desperate urgency.

Luz couldn't help but stare. He had pulled his wings forward over his shoulders, clutching the tip of each wing in each hand, and was grinding the bark into the space between them. His face was contorted in a grimace, his nose scrunched up and his eyes screwed firmly shut. He huffed repeatedly in aggravation, letting out the occasional curse as he adjusted his stance to get a better angle. Autumn leaves crunched audibly beneath Luz's feet as she hesitantly approached him, but Hunter made no indication that he had noticed her at all.

"Uh, Hunter?"

He jumped and froze, finally realizing she was there. His face quickly began to resemble his feathers in color. "Luz," he squeaked. "You're home." He leaned back against the tree nonchalantly, clinging to his last shred of dignity as he acted as though that was all he had been doing. "S-So, how was school?" he asked with a strained grin. As he did so, he continued to squirm slightly against the bark, trying to make it look like he was just shifting his posture.

Now that she was getting a better look at his face, Luz noticed that he looked utterly drained, his lips chapped and his cheeks displaying a sallow tint that was visible even through his blush. And despite how long he had slept in that morning, his dark circles had returned almost to their Golden Guard severity, and his eyes themselves looked glassy and unfocused.

"Hunter, are you okay?" she asked worriedly. "Are you sick?"

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly anxious to end the conversation. "I'm good! Don't worry about me. Hey, why don't you go tell Camila you're home?" His voice was shaky and weak.

Luz hummed, unimpressed with his attempt to deflect her concerns. "Why don't we both go see her, and she can take a look at you and figure out why you're so exhausted and itchy all of a sudden?" she said pointedly, coming closer to him.

To her dismay, her boyfriend shrank away from her, fear evident in his eyes. "Please don't tell Camila about this," he begged. "She's been working at the vet clinic all day. I'm not going to disturb her when she should be taking a break."

Luz held back a sigh at how frequently they had to have this conversation. As frustrating as it was that Hunter simply could not get it in his head that she and her mom didn't see him as a burden, Luz knew his fear of being seen as such was deep-seated from his years in the Emperor's Coven, and she imagined his experiences with Belos made that fear even stronger when it pertained to someone he saw as an authority figure.

"It's not going to bother her to make sure you're okay," Luz said patiently. "It'd make her way more worried if you didn't tell her. And she's been pretty excited to study your wings. I mean, she's dedicated her entire life to being a vet. This is the sort of thing she enjoys and takes pride in doing!"

Hunter frowned, clearly unconvinced but unable to think of a good counterargument. Luz took this opportunity to gently extend her hand for him to take. "Come on."

His eyes locked onto her nails, his ears perking up in sudden interest. He fidgeted slightly, a light flush creeping back onto his cheeks.

"Luz," Hunter burst out, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Could you scratch my back?" As he said this, he finally abandoned his position against the tree and turned his back to her expectantly.

Luz gasped as she saw the state his wings were in. A matted tangle of dull and broken feathers sat at the bases of his wings, and prominent, crumbling feather sheaths stuck out across his back. His plumage had thinned out considerably, revealing his inflamed skin beneath, and his wings themselves looked ragged.

As much as it pained her to turn him down when this was the first time he'd ever managed to ask her for help, she didn't know what was wrong with his wings and was terrified of making matters worse and causing any further damage to his feathers. "Sorry, but I'm taking you to see Mamá," she said firmly, taking his hand and starting to pull him toward the house. Her heart broke as Hunter visibly wilted, a crushed expression on his face as he reluctantly trudged after her.

Camila turned out to have been out at the grocery store, but she was hurrying back home after Luz had called her to explain what was going on. As they waited for her to return, Luz had sat Hunter in a chair at the dining table, having turned the chair backwards to make it easier for Camila to inspect his wings. He had pointedly refused to speak or even look at Luz since she'd brought him in, opting to spend his time sulking with his back to her. Luz knew how miserable he must be, so she felt slightly bad for finding it adorable how grumpy he was.

"Mamá says she should be home in a minute," she informed him. His ears flattened irritably but he otherwise ignored her.

He groaned suddenly, reaching his hand to his back. Luz opened her mouth to tell him not to scratch, but she needn't have worried. It appeared as though Hunter had still not managed to gain total control over his wings, as they simply copied the movements of his arms and seemed to get directly in his way no matter what angle he tried to reach from. Luz couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped her at this endearing predicament of his.

He shot her a resentful glare and she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

Hunter fidgeted with his hands. "No, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know you're trying to help. I shouldn't take it out on you."

Luz walked over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking care not to touch his sensitive feathers. "Aww, it's okay," she whispered, resting her chin on his head. "I know it's really uncomfortable. I don't blame you for being a little on edge." Hunter hugged her back, gripping the back of her shirt with shaking fingers.

"I love you, Luz," he mumbled. She could hear the tears in his voice, a mixture of frustration at his itching wings and guilt from being cold to her.

"I love you too," she said, planting a kiss atop his head.

"Hijos, I'm home!" Camila's voice called out, muffled through the closed door. She had taken to announcing her presence before coming in so as to not startle Hunter by opening the door unexpectedly.

"Mamá!" Luz rushed to greet her and practically dragged her over to where Hunter was sitting. "Can you figure out what's wrong with Hunter? Please? His feathers look like they're falling out and they're all itchy and he's super exhausted and sick-looking and..."

"Mija," Camila interrupted gently upon seeing Hunter's wings. "I think he is just molting. Cardinals molt when it starts getting colder so they have thicker plumage for the winter."

Luz suddenly felt very silly. "Oh." That did explain a lot. She looked at Hunter to gauge his reaction, and he seemed quite relieved, too.

Camila smiled at the two of them. She took Hunter's temperature just to be sure, and he did not appear to have a fever. "Growing a whole new set of feathers is a lot of work for your body," she told him kindly. "You'll probably feel very tired for a while. Make sure you get lots of sleep tonight, okay, mijo?"

"Yes, ma'am--er, Camila," Hunter murmured shyly.

Camila beckoned Luz over to take a closer look at his feathers. "These are pin feathers," she explained. "The sheaths covering them will eventually break apart, and they'll unfurl into Hunter's new feathers. Pin feathers are very itchy, but it's important they don't get damaged by scratching them when they're black like these ones." She pointed out a particular patch of sheaths between Hunter's shoulder blades which indeed were much darker than the ones on the majority of his back. "They're this color because they are so new that blood is still flowing to them. If you break them before the blood recedes, they will bleed."

Her forehead creased in concern as she parted his feathers to reveal a section that appeared to have met such a fate. She clucked her tongue in sympathy. "This looks like it hurts," she said. "I will need to disinfect this just in case. It looks like he has some plant material stuck in his feathers here, too. Maybe tree bark?"

Luz noticed Hunter's ears suddenly grow very red. "We were sitting against a tree earlier," she quickly cut in, trying to save him from the embarrassment of having to explain to her mom that he'd been using her backyard as a scratching post. "That's probably where he got that. So, how long 'til the sheaths don't have blood anymore?" She received a grateful look from Hunter, who was clearly glad to change the subject.

Camila hummed pensively. "Well, cardinals generally take around a month to finish molting--"

"A month?!" Hunter cried.

Luz and Camila jumped a little in surprise at his sudden outburst. He shrank in on himself, his ears drooping. "My apologies," he said, eyes fixed on the ground.

"Oh, mijo, it's okay," Camila reassured him. "A lot of your sheaths are already white, which means there's no more blood flow and they're ready to come off. That happens at the end of the molting period, so it looks like your molt is going to go a lot faster. You will probably have all your new feathers in a day or so."

Luz took one of Hunter's hands in her own and began stroking her thumb across the back of it to calm him. "Is there anything we can do for him?" she asked her mom. "It's really bothering him."

Camila nodded. "Adding more protein to his diet should make his feathers healthier. And the sheaths will come off more easily and be less itchy if they're not so dry." She began to head out of the room. "I will be right back. I'm going to prepare a spray bottle so we can mist his wings." She turned back and spoke to Hunter. "You won't be able to tell which feathers have blood flow without being able to see them, so make sure you do not scratch at them while I'm gone, okay, mijo? I don't want you hurting yourself." She caught Luz's eye. "Vigílalo."

Luz nodded in agreement to watch him, and Camila exited the room.

The instant she was gone, Luz turned back to Hunter. "So, where do you want me to scratch?"

Hunter gaped at her. "Huh?"

"Tell me where it itches, and I'll scratch it for you," Luz repeated, trying to disguise her excitement. Now that she knew nothing was wrong with him and she wouldn't be hurting him, her desire to touch his feathers had come back to her in full force. While another person might have been put off by the raggedness of his matted plumage, Luz's fascination with the gross and macabre just made his ratty, bloodied feathers all the more irresistible.

"Th-Th--" Hunter stammered, his eyes wide. "Th-That would be in direct opposition to Camila's orders." Despite the disapproving tone of his words, Luz noticed that his ears had perked up and were wiggling slightly. She decided to tease him a bit.

"Well," she said with a melodramatic shrug, drawing out her words, "I suppose if you don't want me to--"

"No!" Hunter said, a little too loudly.

"I mean, I wouldn't want to pressure you or anything," she continued. "I'm sure you can tolerate it just fine. It's not like it itches so bad you can't stand it, right?"

"Luz!" he whined.

"What?" she asked innocently. "Did you want something, cardenalito?"

She was delighted to find that the nickname earned exactly the flustered squeak from Hunter she was expecting. If he didn't want to be called her cute little cardinal, then maybe he should've thought about that before being such a cute little cardinal.

Hunter took a moment to reply. "You don't...think she'll be upset...?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Nope, not really," Luz said with an easy smile. "Plus, she only said you couldn't scratch. She didn't say anything about me doing it for you." She made a show of tapping the side of her head wisely and managed to get a small chuckle out of Hunter. "Besides," she added, "She showed me what feathers to avoid, so I know I won't hurt you."

Hunter let out a deep breath. "Then...yes. Please. Please, help me." He reached up and pulled his wings over his shoulders again to give her access to his newfound acnestis.

Luz's hands hovered over his feathers in anticipation. She decided to start by running her fingers through the thicker sections of his plumage, avoiding the sheaths for now so she could just experience the feel of the feathers themselves. Upon making contact with them she found them to be even softer than she'd imagined, from his silky outer feathers to his fluffy downy feathers. "Wow," she breathed, dragging her fingers through his plumage haphazardly as she relished the sensation on her skin.

Hunter, on the other hand, did not appear to be enjoying it as much. He leaned forward with a shudder, trying to escape her fingers. "Ugh, Luz!" he complained. "That tickles! You're making it worse."

Luz started. "Whoops, sorry. Got distracted." She finally moved her hands to the center of his back where the molting was most severe and began parting his feathers to reach his skin, gently removing some of the old feathers and picking out bits of crumbling sheaths and tree bark as she did so. She spotted a fully white sheath that was still attached to his skin, and she couldn't help but give it an experimental tug.

The sheath did not budge, but Hunter gasped and immediately leaned into her touch, practically shoving his back against her hand. "Do that again," he begged.

Happy to have gotten a positive reaction, Luz obliged him, trying once again to remove the stubborn sheath. When it still did not come off, she opted to try picking at it with one of her nails, and it at last began to flake apart, revealing a stunningly vibrant feather beneath. She stared for a moment, captivated, though admittedly more so by the loud purr that erupted from Hunter, who had absolutely melted into the chair he was sitting on the instant she started scratching.

"Does that feel better now?" she asked with a grin.

He nodded. "Could you go a little to the left?" he asked, his voice muffled against the back of the chair.

"You bet!" Luz replied brightly. She followed his instruction, slowly moving her hand across his other feathers and gently prodding each one she passed to find which was bothering him.

She stopped when she heard a gasp from Hunter. "That one, that one," he said desperately. Luz briskly scratched off the offending feather sheath, her smile widening at the audible sigh of relief she received from him in response.

She quickly got into a rhythm, and before she knew it she had removed a significant number of sheaths. He was already looking much better with so many more of his feathers unfurled, and the color of his fresh plumage was simply breathtaking.

"Are you good for now?" Luz asked. "Mamá should be back any time now with more stuff to help."

Hunter rolled his shoulders. "Would you mind getting one more? It's near the middle."

"Sure," Luz responded, parting his feathers to look for it. She frowned as she failed to find any more of the white sheaths she'd been removing in that area. She was about to ask him for more specific directions when she suddenly caught sight of a sheath that was black in color, difficult to see among the dark red bases of his other feathers. Hoping she was wrong, she poked it gently. "This one?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

"Hunter, that one's got blood flow."

"What?!" He craned his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to look at his back, his brow furrowed in dismay and a pout on his lips. "But it's itchy."

Luz sighed. She couldn't help but take pity on him when he was this unintentionally cute. "I'll try to scratch it without pulling it off, okay? Just let me know if I'm hurting you." She gently dragged a single nail against his skin in a circular motion around the base of that feather, and she felt Hunter relax immediately beneath her hand. Relieved that this seemed to be enough for him, she tentatively began to scratch a bit harder, which was met with an appreciative hum from Hunter.

Luz heard a sudden cooing behind her that was not drowned out even by the loud rumble of Hunter's purring. She turned to find her mom standing in the doorway, holding a spray bottle in one hand and rubbing alcohol in the other and looking at the young couple with an amused fondness. She was leaning against the doorframe slightly, as though she had been standing there for a while.

"Mamá!" Luz protested, feeling her face grow hot. "Why didn't you say anything?" She'd gotten so wrapped up in helping Hunter molt that she hadn't realized how long it had been. A glance at the clock told her she'd been preening his feathers for almost fifteen minutes now.

Camila laughed, cupping her cheek with her hand. "Ay, but you two looked so adorable I couldn't bear to interrupt. You have been doing a very good job handling his feathers correctly."

She walked over to where Hunter was sitting and poured a bit of rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. "It will sting a little, but I need to disinfect where your feathers got hurt, okay, mijo?" she told him gently. He nodded silently and held still as she quickly cleaned out his injury.

"There we go." Camila said, setting the cotton ball aside. She passed Luz the spray bottle she had brought. "Removing the sheaths will be a lot less work once they're slightly damp," Camila explained to her. "You should try to make sure the mist reaches his skin, too, since that will help soothe the irritation."

"All right," Luz responded. She chose a section of Hunter's feathers at random and, after parting them, gave the area a quick spritz.

Hunter jumped slightly as the cool water hit his skin. "Oh!" he squeaked. "That is a lot better." His wings suddenly began flapping of their own accord, his feathers ruffling instinctively to move the droplets around his plumage.

Luz gasped in delight. "You're like a little bird taking a bath!" she exclaimed, her hands flapping excitedly.

Hunter let out a laugh. "Flapjack always liked bathing," he said brightly. "Sometimes, I would sneak him into the bathrooms at the castle, and I would cup my hands as I ran the tap so he could sit there and splash around. He looked so cute with his feathers fluffed up!" Hunter gestured animatedly as he spoke, and he rocked back and forth in his seat as though overwhelmed by his own enthusiasm.

Affection rose in Luz's chest as she listened to more of his rambling while she continued her work with the spray bottle. She always loved it when he shared his interests with her like this, and she was glad that he was at the point where he could talk about his late Palisman so readily and with such happiness.

After a few minutes, she had at last misted all of Hunter's feathers. She set the spray bottle down on the table and ran her fingers through his hair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He let out a comfortable sigh and nuzzled into her arm. "Much better," he said. "Thank you, Luz. You really didn't have to do all this for me."

Luz messed up his hair good-naturedly. "Hey, don't worry about it. I wasn't just gonna leave you to suffer! You want me to see if I can get more of the sheaths off now? There were a few that wouldn't come off before."

"That would be great," he said shyly.

Luz began picking at his remaining white pin feathers and was pleased to find that their coatings did indeed come off much more easily now they weren't so dry. Hunter nestled back down in the chair as she worked, his eyes slipping closed.

"Did Flapjack go through molting, too?" Luz asked him curiously.

Hunter hummed in contemplation. "I don't think so. Not to this extent, at least. Palismen do for the most part reflect the animal in whose image they're made, but since the Palistrom wood takes the place of keratin for them, I wouldn't be surprised if their skin and feathers work a bit different. Flap did have me preen him a few times, though." A fond chuckle escaped his lips at the memory. "I think he was glad to have someone with fingers to help him. He was always really bossy about what feathers he wanted scratched. He would--Oh! Wait, wait, go back, that was a good spot." Hunter squirmed, trying to chase her fingers. "No, up a little. Down a little. Yeah, right there." Luz rolled her eyes.

"That was very kind of you to help Flapjack preen, Hunter," Camila said to him as Luz continued to scratch his back a bit. "Birds can't reach all of their feathers by themselves, so if there's not another bird to preen them, they will need their owner to help them. In the wild, most birds will get preened by their mates if they have them."

"Huh. Good thing he's got one of those, eh?" Luz said, nudging Hunter.

He blinked at her, taking a minute to digest her words. His eyes suddenly widened and an intense blush spread across his entire face. "Luz!" he choked.

Luz clasped his hands in hers and looked him intently in the eye. "Hunter," she said, putting on a dramatic air. "From this day forward, I, Luz Noceda, hereby vow to preen your feathers for you whenever you need, and to aid you in every molt you have, in all our years to come."

By this point, Hunter looked like he was going to absolutely pass out from embarrassment, so she elected to spare him from more of her teasing, but not before giving him a chivalrous kiss on the hand for good measure. He whined and buried his head in her shoulder, unable to help the bashful grin that had made its way to his face.

"Thank you," he laughed, lifting his head to place a soft kiss on her lips.

***

Luz groaned, staring at the ceiling. It felt like every time she tried to go back to sleep, thousands of glowing blue eyes would flood her vision and her ears would ring with cacophonous, overlapping voices and the sickening crunch of bones. She sighed, giving up, and went to find Hunter.

Years ago, when they had gotten stuck in the Human Realm after the Day of Unity, they'd made an agreement that if one of them couldn't sleep, they would wake the other up for support. It certainly happened a lot less frequently now, but every once in a while they would both still have nights where the memories of Belos were too much to face alone.

Luz shivered as she walked across the basement floor, her socks not stopping the winter chill from reaching her feet. She paused a few steps from his bed and called out to him softly, hoping she wouldn't startle him. "Hunter?"

One of his ears swiveled in her direction, and soon a pair of red eyes were glowing at her through the darkness. "Luz?" he said groggily. "What's wrong?"

"Can't sleep," she replied.

He yawned and shifted to one side of the bed to make room for her, silently holding his arms out to invite her to cuddle with him. She accepted gratefully, nestling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he murmured.

She shrugged with a dismissive shake of her head. "Just...Belos. Again." Her fists clenched. "I don't know why I still let him affect me like this. He's been dead for years and I still see him every day. I don't know what's wrong with me."

She yelped in surprise as one of Hunter's wings darted out to tickle the side of her neck. Her face unintentionally broke into a smile and laughter began to bubble out of her as his feathers brushed against her skin. He had been an absolute menace since he'd figured out how to control his wings. "Hey!" she protested through a fit of giggles, giving him a playful shove.

Hunter smirked and withdrew his wing. "There is nothing wrong with you," he told her firmly, his voice taking a more serious tone. "It...it doesn't really go away. No matter how long it's been. There's nothing that can make up for what he did." His hand moved to clutch his chest. "But...we have a chance now to live on. For all those before us who didn't get that chance. Even if it feels hard sometimes, I think it's worth doing. For them and for us."

Luz laid her hand next to his to feel his heart beating steadily beneath his chest. "Yeah," she whispered. "It is."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while. Luz noticed that Hunter's inhales and exhales felt a bit more intentional than normal, as though he were concentrating on breathing deeply in hopes that she would synchronize her breathing with his. She did so, and a feeling of calm began to wash over her.

"Hunter?" she murmured. "Can I pet you?"

He snorted. "You never have to ask to do that."

She smiled and draped an arm over him so she could lazily drag her fingers through his feathers. His winter plumage was so thick her fingers were almost completely buried in his fluffy down before they reached his skin. The softness of his feathers against her hand was instantly soothing and she could feel her eyes struggling to stay open.

The gentle trill of Hunter's purring began to fill the room, and the two of them quickly drifted off to sleep.

[tavina-writes]

currently trying to think if I remember any situations in Jin Yong wuxia where a family preferred sons over daughters (especially as like, a socially mandated thing) and coming up short.

Like I think there are plenty of situations where powerful men/families/sects only have one child and that child is a daughter. And this is neither weird, highly remarked upon, or considered odd in any way. Nor is anyone feeling pressed to come up with a son in the future.

Ren Yingying from XAJH, Yue Lingshan from XAJH, Huang Rong from LOCH, Guo Fu (from ROCH) for a good portion of her life (16 years of it, also Guo Fu wasn't displaced bc one of the twins was a boy, NOR were her parents trying to have more children on purpose), Yang Guo and XLN's daughter from ROCH/HSDS, Gongsun Lu'e from ROCH, etc.

Also their status range from like 'extremely important and visible family in the jianghu' to 'actually not all that well known' so it's not just a "well our family is powerful so who gives a fuck" kind of situation.

Like these are male dominated books, there are more men than there are women in Jin Yong's books (there are really cool women in his books though), but there's almost none 'oh no how will a girl inherit!' left beef. The girl will learn martial arts, like it's hard?

I think this is also relatively true of Gu Long books too, so at some points I'm left ??? at the discourse re: inheritance and gender in MDZS fandom bc I don't think it's actively stated anywhere that women aren't supposed to inherit? Or aren't allowed? or are less capable? or that there's a strong societal prejudice against it? Just. It's a danmei so most of these positions are occupied by men. Like, there are maybe five whole women and even less among the juniors. Who and how and why will they inherit if they don't exist.