#or at least not to its full extend which I would love to

[mbohjeezart]

Hermit a Day May: Day 19, Favorite ALT H- WHAT IS HE DOING HERE? YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO- GO! YOU CAN'T BE HERE-

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[blackjackkent]

Me> [struggling to unravel a very annoying UI bug]

My brain, entirely unprompted> H E Y. IF JAHEIRA HAD USED SOME MORE MINOR VERSION OF THAT RITE OF THE TIMELESS BODY ON RASAAD TO EXTEND HIS LIFESPAN, IT WOULD RESOLVE THE MORE FINICKY TIMELINE ISSUES ABOUT RION BEING THEIR KID.

Me> ...ok? I didn't ask right now but thank you for working that out I guess.

[pomefioredove]

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

[cozycottagetarot]

How Will They Pursue

How To Pick A Group:

Typically I recommend going with the image that you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This Reading's Contents:

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

LINKS: Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧

PILE 1

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Two of Cups, King of Cups, Nine of Swords (Bottom Deck: Queen of Swords)

I feel like this is a decision that is well thought out and long pondered on. Your person may come across as slightly intimidating in some manner—  likely due to a label attached to them. They are also someone who is very loving and very giving but guards their heart. A relationship with you or I should say pursuing you is something they acknowledge would have its respective challenges due to your differences, but the pull or attraction they feel towards you is one that they don’t want to miss out on. For them, there’s this sense that they’d endure anything because the reward of solidifying your bond is worth it.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: The High Priestess, Nine of Swords, Three of Cups | Four of Wands, The Chariot, King of Swords rev

Your person's initial approach may have a bit of a faulty start. With the nine of swords here, they may overthink how to get you to like (?) them and come across as a bit of a ‘know it all’ … it’s not intentional, I’m hearing that they’re just trying to come across as a good candidate. That doesn’t feel like it lasts a long time though, it could simply be the first conversation or so… or maybe it happens before they decide they want to actively pursue you. Your person would turn to their intuition or lean on that 'divine guidance' for insights on how to best approach you. They’d approach you as a friend first or at the very least someone who wants the best for you. They want to be there by your side celebrating every accomplishment and cheering you on. I think they may also feel like that’s the most authentic way for them to show up balancing being true to themselves and what they believe in versus how you would be receptive to them.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 2

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Nine of Coins, Five of Coins, Four of Swords

Your person pursues you because they feel abundant with you. I think they’ve been through a lot from a young age and have been 'demonised' throughout their life… seen as someone who just represents destruction. But with you, it’s a new sense of happiness and joy. You’ve offered them comfort and kindness seeing them for who they truly are under the surface (which may be a little rough around the edges). I kind of feel like they hate or resent everyone (not out right but it’s there) but you. They put in the work though and now it’s like ‘okay, I can enjoy life fully’ and in a way, you’re sort of a reward for all the bad things that have happened.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Knight of cups, Two of Laurels, Eight of Laurels | Death, Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups rev

Your person is going to offer you their love right off the bat, but it won’t be inherently romantic. More along the lines of offering themself as a friend or companion. They will work to juggle putting the effort in with you versus their fears and insecurities. I think it could create a little bit of a push and pull between you two… or not quite a push and pull but more so one moment they're easily available and the next they're there for you still but you can sense they’re distant. It’s a new beginning for them (and in so many other areas of their life) so they’re working through those fears as they come to see where things go with you. With the ten of cups, they may also see you as family— found family to be more specific. So where things go from here they don’t know— but they are willing to find out.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 3

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Queen of Cups, The Empress, The Star

Your person may idolise you a little bit.  You have a very feminine energy (regardless of gender as always)— you’re very caring and have a motherly/parental quality to you. Subconsciously this is attractive to them… I don’t know why yet. You’re someone they can turn to when everything feels bleak. On some level, I think there’s that possibility that they could want you to be the parent of their kids (hear me out 🤦‍♀️) or they want someone who can handle kids – What I mean by this last part is that I think there’s a certain level of patience/understanding/compassion that one has to have to 'successfully wrangle' kids lol. I think you’re also just someone who brightens up the world and is so abundant, and they want you to brighten them up too. It’s like that song “Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, Never let it fade away.” But as much as they see these attractive qualities in you, they also want to give you back some of that light that you always give out.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Five of Cups, Page of Wands, Six of Wands | The Waker, The Queen, The Diviner

I kind of feel like your person pursuing you won’t be very difficult for them because I think you’ll be down for it. Spoiler alert, for the other piles it kind of felt like their person was more subtle and those reading the pile were kind of oblivious to it, but with you, it’s like you’re down for them from the start too. Are they aware that you would say yes to them? I’m not fully sure. I haven’t been reading the bottom of deck cards but I ended up looking at the bottom of the deck and you have The Lovers. For me it just all kinds of feels like commitment or the acknowledgement that you too are very important to each other is inevitable… but you guys are open to the journey and seeing how it plays out. There’s a factor of excitement in their pursuit of you also but overall this person feels pretty chill but confident in how they show up.

When it comes to their initial approach, they’re going to put in the effort to pursue you in a way that feels comfortable for you. They’ll learn about your past hurts and do their best to get to know you. I think that’s really what creates success, them getting to know you and learning how you want to be loved/cared for. Even when/if you pull back they’ll be patient. They won’t rush the development of your connection or your readiness.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[ideahat-universe]

It's like Pokemon but mask off.

I like monster catching games and like with most westerners my first taste of the genre was with Pokemon. But it didn't end with Pokemon. A lot of people who fell in love with Pokemon rarely extended their interest to other titles. As a result many other members in the genre languished in obscurity. The most notable ended up being Digimon but Digimon never got a big piece of the pie, but when rpgs were having a monster catcher craze I jumped in.

Monster Rancher, Dragon Quest Monster, Digimon, Azure Dreams, Robopon, and even something completely off the wall.

And after playing that and many more I had my illusion completely shattered on how good Pokemon actually was.

Every game had a little something that Pokemon either dragged their feet on having or never had.

Robopon gives you the ability to customize and change your abilities based on whatever load-out you gave your Robopon. On a surface level this looks like something that makes the identity of your Robopon irrelevant but that's far from the case as items have to be compatible and certain levels of compatibility make moves more or less effective. But the most important part is acknowledging is that when this game came out Pokemon still had sparse, single use TMs and HMs that were permanent. Robopon allowed you to access to basically every move in the game, you just had to discover which combination of items on which Robopon enables it.

Dragon Quest Monsters 1 has a breeding system and mandates that you use it. Not only are bred monsters stronger than wild ones but carefully bred monsters can have unique and very powerful offspring and even if you settle on a specific monster and want it to be your main, the monsters have level caps that are less than 100 meaning that you'll fall off if you insist on holding a monster indefinitely.

Dragon Quest Monsters 1 came out a full year before Pokemon Gold and Silver came out and when that came out and had breeding as well, the differences were brutal. You were expected to wait out the egg hatching (as if running around in a circle was ever going to be a fun game mechanic), then your egg would hatch and the Pokemon would either be the mother in its base form or a not Ditto. But wait, it's even worse. Pokemon have breed compatibility that is obfuscated with vague terms and now instead of mixing and matching at will you have to consult an insane flow chart to divine who can make babies with whom and you just end up using Ditto anyways.

But the worst part is that outside of shiny breeding (and learning a couple of moves from the parents that can't be acquired otherwise) and getting baby forms you don't get anything special from breeding Pokemon because any random Pokemon can have the stats you're looking for meaning that catching Pokemon is going to be better than breeding in almost every regard.

Azure Dreams allowed you to fight with your monsters and your monsters followed you around in the over world. Two years prior Pokemon Yellow came out with the trademark mechanic of having Pikachu following you in the over world. But this feature would not consistently stay in future titles and it took till Arceus for a trainer to be ever slightly more involved in the fight than just standing and giving commands.

Monster Rancher sacrifices a lot of commonly loved mechanics in monster games in order to have the most definitive monster training experience. Monsters have to train via mini games and non-combat related activities.

Monsters get tired, they get sick, they eat, they have favorite and least favorite foods, they can get hurt, they can get angry, they can run away from home, they can cheat their training, and they can fight with or without your guidance. When you play Monster Rancher you will miss out on the exploration and the range of creatures but when you let your Pokemon get one shot because you didn't know the match-up and basically nothing happens to you or them you'll miss how Monster Rancher makes you care about the well being of the Monster and when you're in a cave or a patch of grass or a large body of water, grinding out experience by fighting a small handle of Pokemon over and over again (back then! I know experience gain is really easy now but back then) you'll wish you can just go to a real gym and exercise the experience you want.

Digimon World changes from game to game but the very first one for the PSone is THE game that screwed up how I felt about Pokemon's basic mechanics.

Digimon World 1 gave you only one Digimon to train and raise at a time and a couple dozen transformations but you could feed the Digimon, it has moods and behaviors, you need to discipline it, you can train it in combat or at a gym, you can adjust its stats, it can learn dozens of moves on top of a super move and Digimon are programmable. Intelligence isn't just a magic damage stat. The smarter your Digimon is the better it can comprehend specific commands and complex maneuvers, meaning that with enough training your Digimon can be told to do everything from evade oncoming attacks, go whole hog and do max damage, Defend from all attacks, or even conserve mana spending.

Dragon Quest Monsters had this as well where depending on how they are trained they handle fights and understand commands based on your training or lack thereof.

Nothing like this really exists in Pokemon. When Reverend breaks Pokemon down to "press the button to receive dopamine." It's a joke but in reality, as a trainer you should be expected to actually train your Pokemon well enough to actually do things on their own. In real life every trainer for every sport expects the person they train to be self directing, when you do a coliseum match in Dragon Quest Monsters you can't give monsters specific commands so you have to rely on how you conditioned them to fight well beforehand.

A Pokemon Trainer should be able to be hands off, and have your Pokemon handle it on their own. If you have to tell your Pokemon what to do and when to do it, have you really even trained them anything?

And you might think this is a long diatribe on what is clearly a post about Palworld but my point is that I play the Monster Collector/trainer games and have been finding Pokemon lacking for maybe 15 years. So I look forward to and support the little differences that make other monster collection/training games better than Pokemon and Palworld offers a very unique experience when compared to Pokemon.

Let me break it down.

Pokemon slowly phased out regular real world animals in favor of more Pokemon but they often gloss over how because there are no normal animals and there's just Pokemon for everything, that Pokemon have to be the main product that's consumed and killed and that hundreds of Pokemon more than likely exist to just be butchered and consumed regardless of how sentient and sapient

many of them are. At the very least Pokemon have their own food cycle where they brutally murder each other to stay alive.

In Palworld you don't have that issue! It's a dog eat dog world, whatever you don't feel like capturing or keeping you thrash 'em and scrap 'em. The game has ragdoll physics so when you're done murdering the sheep and stripping it of its assets you can roll its dead body into a river.

Pokemon talks a big game about friendship and love and how you can't just treat Pokemon like emotionless weapons. However, that's exactly what players do. There's no consequence for letting your Pokemon get nuked so there's no particular care for their well being. Nine times out of ten you don't win because you love your Pokemon more. You win because your Pokemon out levels the opponent or they hard counter the opponent.

In Palworld they don't worry about that ethical dilemma. You know what? Your Pals are weapons and if you really want to up the ante, give them a gun! In the Pokemon world most conflicts are resolved with a Pokemon battle but in Palworld killing people is a team effort!

Gary may think he's smarter than you but is he smarter than bullet?

Throughout the games and the movies and the comics and even TV show what you'll notice is that actually Pokemon battles are a low priority for most Pokemon owners. A lot of people treat Pokemon as family members and pets but even more use Pokemon as a utility to solve everyday problems or participate in special contests.

Depending on the Pokemon game you are playing the side content can enable ways for you to treat the Pokemon like a friend and not like a living gun. There are even mini games that allow you to train your Pokemon towards a goal that doesn't involve just fighting the opponent but these things aren't added on top of each other with each title, they're swapped out. Never the same mini games, never the same friendship mechanics and in each game they are very shallow.

In Palworld you are expected to fight with your Pals but the main feature is putting your Pals to work at your base. Building and turning your complex into a well oiled machine. Not every Pal does the same job so you're invited to get many pals for many different tasks.

So in Palworld they are a pet, they are also a gun, and a hammer. But it's all a core feature and not side content and there's no pretense where you pretend that the creatures you control is not just tools to serve you and do what you desire.

Speaking of desire! Pokemon has Winked and nudged at the idea that Pokemon are occasionally more than friends and pets. There are an odd amount of Pokemon that are more human than monster and there's a redacted text log that says Pokemon and humans were mates and got married. It's hard to know just how close Pokemon are to humans without it being kid friendly or just extremely strange.

Palworld doesn't have that issue! In fact.

Here's Lovander! A Pal whose text entry more or less says that it's fucking everything that moves! It has only recently set its sights on humans, but that's not a big deal. After all, humans can be captured in Pal spheres like any other Pal. That's right game theorists! in Palworld humans are just Pals and are subject to the exact same mechanics.

It takes courage to say the quiet part out loud.

Now is Palworld the Monster Catcher game I've been waiting for? Kind of. It's in early access and if it adds more tasks and locations and objectives it could be quite good. Being completely unhinged and unethical is what makes Rimworld great. If this game can be modded easily, for 30 dollars. It's worth your time. Let's just hope that Craftworld was just a stepping stone for this and not an indication of the devs being more idea dogs than developers.

[nerdranttheories]

Okay I’m going to geek out about Toshinori’s costume designs because I’m an English major and analyzing tiny details in text is what we do and also I love??? The designs! And each one tells us so much about All Might and his focus during each costume.

Costume 1 (Young Might):

So first off, despite young All Might’s longtime dream of being a hero, his suit is mostly black. A stark difference from comics books and his later self which tend to be bright primary colors. The few dashes of primary colors he has are desaturated, even in the second instance where we see this costume. This would have likely been the only costume Toshinori designed himself, as David became his designer in college.

Obviously, others have pointed out the similarities to Nana’s suit, just like how Izuku copied AM’s, so I don’t think it will be necessary for me to point that out. But this suit is also very practical. Something the flashy All Might isn’t really known for, but let me point the details out. He has boots, gauntlets, as well as what appears to be protection for his upper torso, and even for his neck. A decent balance between more protection and more weight, which would slow a hero down. Also, unlike Nana’s suit, his extends completely down the arms. The only skin surface available is that of his hands, something that stays the same through all of his costumes and as such, must be something he personally insists on. In media, gloves often represent someone with secrets, or a guarded personality. All Might not wearing gloves shows how open he is, not just with his friends but strangers too. And it’s humble, too. It’s not an unfeeling, covered hand extending to you when you’re in danger, it’s the bare-handed reach of a friend, and I fully believe that’s why Toshi goes without gloves. Also it’s possibly a sensory thing for him as well, which goes with my canon-supported theory that this man has ADHD, but that’s a nerd rant for another time.

The colors are important because while obviously they mimic Nana, you can practically see through the color choice that Toshinori is not in his right mindset here. While later the oversaturation of colors serves to show how his own heroism has made him into something Else, and outside of his own head, leaving the man inside to shrivel away, these muted colors show that Toshinori has not yet blossomed. Also in the brief scenes we see of him when he is younger, Toshinori is very solemn. The one scene we get of him smiling when he’s young is when Izuku is comparing them at the same age, and even then, it’s more of a smirk as opposed to the signature All Might grin we all know and love. Black also is just a reasonable color for something like crime-fighting. Black shows the least grime/dirt, so he could reasonably spend more hours out in this costume without having to come home and wash it/trade it out. (Which is something that I love that this series includes, by the way!)

Costume 2-ish:

Toshinori adds some shoulder pads for the fight with AFO, probably expecting to stand side-by-side with his mentor. I could give a more full-body image but this is really the only difference I could pick out.

Costume 3 (College Might):

This is the first costume of All Might’s that is designed by David Shield.

First off, props to David. He’s an awesome designer. He not only made a new design, but incorporated several choices from AM’s previous suit, and definitely conferred a lot with Toshi on how he wanted his suit to look while still ensuring its functionality.

Black is traded for a dark, unsaturated blue, giving AM a more peaceful look, as navy blue is considered to be a calming color. (Even Endeavor wears it! But maybe copying AM and not wearing it for the same purposes?) All Might’s cape is also changed from red to blue, taking away the dark look and making it the color of the sky, again adding to that Symbol of Peace idea that is Toshinori’s dream. The gauntlets and boots remain, but the chest-piece has been removed, offering up more mobility. The yellow of his belt has been brightened, and added in place of the blues on his gauntlets and boots, giving him an overall more friendly look as opposed to the more subdued one he had before with the blue accents. The red has been removed as well, and by moving it to his body, it gives the impression of veins and the blood that is pumping away through the heart of this hero, which is fantastic for someone who cares as much as Toshinori does. White was also added vertically on the sides of the suit, thinning out the very intimidating form of Toshi and making him more approachable, while adding a more pure look to his overall form. This appears to be in part, a stylistic choice on David’s end that follows through to the other suits, though it’s hard to know if it remains on the Bronze Age Suit as well.

Overall the brighter colors telegraph that Toshinori is doing much better mentally at this point. He now has A Friend, and for the time being, is safer from the troubles at home, until he has to return.

Costume 4 (Bronze Age):

We don’t even get a full look at this suit, indicating that its time in use was likely short-lived. As I’ve seen others suggest, it seems very likely that when All Might returned to Japan, he went straight down to business and began doing vigilante work as he tried to track down AFO. However, possibly due to a combination of not finding him and All Might’s rising popularity, he seems to abandon this track and move on to a different form of heroism, which his suit symbolizes. I’ll briefly point out that Toshinori returns to the primarily black suit he had as a teenager, as well as the shadows of his face that add to the idea that as soon as he got back to Japan, he reverted to the mindset he had when he left.

Costume 5 (Silver Age):

This suit indicates to me that this period was All Might’s prime, despite his later suit being considered the Golden Age of All Might. (And even though it’s my least-favorite design.) He has the typical cape of a hero, and the bright colors are now fully of typical comic book style. The circular design on his chest indicates a target, but with being cast in white and surrounded in red, gives the impression that he himself is not the target, but the villainy around him is. Or at least, that is likely the thought process for this design. Other than the dashes of white here and there, the colors are very solid, possibly indicating a more stable, but single-minded train of thought, something AM is notorious for. No offense to Dr. Shield, but I would have mixed the colors better in here, and the cape connection is too bulky for someone who’s as jacked in the shoulders as Toshinori is. Alas, I am not the designer. We shall move on.

Costume 6 (Golden Age):

I love this suit. Plenty of analysis has been done on it already, but I think it’s a fantastic representation of how Toshinori’s been crushed under the very image he had originally wanted to create. His shadows are darkest and most severe here, reminiscent of how body-builders dehydrate themselves to get the best appearance of their musculature. His posing is also more inward, as opposed to the silver age, with the angles of his elbows being less directly out and more in, and instead of appearing confident, it’s more of how a cat puffs out its hair to make itself appear larger when it’s scared. I had a long bit to go with this but it was eaten by the Tumblr gremlins. Basically I believe this suit was made post AFO-battle. All Might is declaring he’s not finished yet, all while knowing his time is running out. This suit has several callbacks to the original suit David designed for him, with the navy, though more saturated base and the red lines running throughout the form, though the gauntlets and boots from before have been integrated into the suit itself. This could reflect David’s mindset as well, as he reminisces about the days when Toshinori was healthy and happy, when now Toshinori’s health is rapidly fading.

Anyway, here’s my costume analysis! I think it adds a little more insight to Toshinori’s mental state and situations in the years outside of the show as well as in them, and I hope you enjoyed this read! I’d love to hear other ideas too, if anyone has them!

[avianyuh]

Irresponsible | Lee Heeseung

Summary: You're a beloved idol from 3rd gen. Your company is under HYBE, so you meet a lot of other idols just by walking the halls, leaving practice rooms and recording booths, and of course, riding the elevator. So, after a long night of demo making, on your way out of the building during your quiet elevator ride down, Heeseung gets on, also after a long night of recording.

word count:2.7k

“What were you thinking? Let me ask you this…Do you fully comprehend just how much damage this will do to not only your, but his career?”, “Do you know how irresponsible you’ve been?”, one of the chairman yelled. 

I was sitting in a room full of executives. The table extended half of the size of the room. I had at least 30 people staring at me with expressionless faces. All middle aged men, judging me. What exactly do you do in a scenario where everyone has just found out about your love life and is now putting you on blast, like you’re a criminal, like you’ve done something horrendous. I stared out of the huge window to my left, mainly trying to avoid the judging onlookers. My manager sat on one side and my group’s leader was sat on the other. She was squeezing my hand under the table for moral support. My manager, though a little angry that I got caught, which he claims made him look bad, was still trying to defend me and calm the chairmen down. My manager straightened in his chair before clearing his throat. Everyone's eyes averted from me over to him momentarily which helped me calm down.

“I understand that everyone’s a bit on edge, but I think all we need to do is calm down, be reasonable and just release a statement denying the whole thing. This happens all the time…”, my manager was rambling on and on about how to do crisis PR management. I kept my gaze locked on the ground as I fidgeted with my feet. But then, in a matter of seconds, it felt like the world stopped. Everyone looked up and turned to face the large doors that led into the gigantic office. First, a middle aged man walked in, his head held high until he took a slight bow, greeting everyone. The CEO, along with the other minions all nodded back, their form of acknowledgement. After the man, came another manager, younger, someone you had sort of become familiar with over the past few months as you would come in and out of the dorms of your boyfriend. He briefly glanced over at you, but he didn’t smile. Most likely because just like your manager, this dating “slip up”, made him look bad. You gave a very small smile anyways, which was your way of silently apologizing for all of the trouble. After the manager walked in, you felt your heart start to race as you stared intently at the tall figure. In walked Heeseung, he kept his head down as he walked through the doors. But then for a short few seconds, he looked up at you, and this time it was you receiving a small smile. Except, this one wasn’t apologetic, it was reassuring. It was exactly what you needed to see since all of this happened. He bowed, before sitting down at the far end of the table. Jungwon followed in right behind him and took a seat. The fact that both of your group's leaders had to sit in on this meeting made you nervous. It made you think that certain decisions were possibly going to be made that would need the leaders present for. You took a deep breath in as you once again pointed your head down, eyes locked on the floor. It was just then when the CEO, along with his minions stood up. The CEO picked up a stack of papers before straightening them out on the desk. He then handed them to one of his assistants who then proceeded to pass them around the table. 

Once you got yours, you started to feel sick as you read its contents. It was a contract of some sort. Well, more like an NDA. It was asking for all “parties involved” to not discuss anything that went on in the meeting. As you finished skimming the paper, you looked over at Heeseung, who now had a serious look on his face. He looked over at you once he too was finished reading. He subtly shook his head in disappointment, glancing down at the contract. Your group leader squeezed your hand again, she truly did feel bad for you. 

You see, not only was this a dating scandal between two idols. It was a dating scandal between a “senior” and “junior” idol. You were three years older than Heeseung and had debuted 6 years before him. Your group were viewed as legends in the industry. Very well respected. Your group had been acquired by HYBE, which was where you had met Heeseung. You had seen him around that first year after his debut, you didn’t know his name but always felt drawn to him. You would sneak glances at each other if you passed in a hallway or saw him at any event you might have both attended. But nothing had really come of those interactions. It wasn’t until you had been in the same elevator one fateful evening that you finally introduced yourselves. You had stayed late on your company’s floor to work on some music, and coincidentally so had Heeseung. You had finished demos before you had noticed how late it was getting. So you locked your studio door and tiredly waddled toward the elevator, ready to make the trek back to your apartment. You were really sleepy and weren't in the mood to have a conversation with anyone. And to be honest, you didn’t expect to see anyone that late at night anyways. So you stood with your back against the elevator wall, and momentarily closed your eyes. But instead of being met with the sound of the elevator descending, you heard it open, and the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes, now a little annoyed that someone else was in here with you, but tensed up at the sight of who this elevator intruder was. 

“Oh, hello”, Heeseung greeted you, bowing before looking over at the buttons. “Are you going to the ground floor?”, for a second, all you did was look at him before you snapped yourself out of the trance you seemed to put yourself in. But, you had to admit that he was so handsome to look at. He had on glasses, a beanie, and very tired looking eyes. 

“Uh, yes, yeah, I’m leaving”, you tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, you’re Heeseung right?”, you asked, trying to sound casual. He gave you a bright smile as he nodded his head yes. 

“It’s an honor to finally get to talk, I’ve seen you around the building for months.”, he said kindly. His words made your heart flutter. That means he noticed you too, you thought to yourself. “I would’ve introduced myself a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy with something.”, he explained as you now both stood facing each other. 

“Don’t worry about it, because that was my exact thought process too! I wanted to introduce myself but you always seemed like you were in the middle of something…”, you both laughed at the shared hesitancy. “So what were you doing here so late?”, you asked, trying to get more information from him. 

“I could ask you the same question”, he playfully responded. You pursed your lips together and you tried to conceal your growing grin. 

“I asked first.”, you retorted. He laughed as he threw his hands up, giving in. 

“Wow, you're pushy. I was working on a song.”, he explained as he leaned against the elevator wall. “Now…what were you doing here so late?”, he quipped. 

“Same reason, except I got through two songs”, you teased as you threw up two fingers. 

“Impressive”, he responded. You could feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks, so you looked down for a second to compile your composure. When you looked back up, you were met with his eyes staring directly at you. You could sense the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to be scanning your face, almost like he was analyzing you. 

So, you did the same. All conversation stopped for a good 30 seconds until Heeseung started speaking again. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”, he questioned, still staring at you with the same intensity. You decided to be honest with him. You were trying to feel out his intentions. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’ll be here then maybe I will.”you gave him a soft, closed lipped smile. He returned the expression just as the elevator doors opened again this time actually on the ground floor. 

And just as you both ‘planned’, the next day, you paced the hallways, waiting for the perfect moment to run into Heeseung again. So, after multiple vending machine runs and jogs around your company floor, you decided to call it quits for the night since you really didn’t get any work done. You were way too focused on if you’d see Heeseung. You realized that though you came in on the same night as him, you didn’t know what time he was leaving. You told yourself that maybe it was for the best. After all, he was your “junior”, it probably wasn’t a good idea. So, you started to exit out of everything and close down your computer when all of a sudden you heard a light tap on the door. You turned and looked, trying to make out the silhouette on the other side. But, deep down, you suspected that you knew who your late night visitor was, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.You opened the door and there he was. Leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets looking tall and calm and handsome, Heeseung. 

“Hi”, you greeted him as you waved him inside. He gladly accepted as he entered your studio, doing a 360 as he started looking around. “I was actually about to shut everything off for the night. I wasn’t having much luck with music today.”, you explained since you noticed him looking at your dark computer screen. 

“Oh you have writer's block?”, Heeseung questioned, giving you a look of genuine curiosity. “Is it just today, or have you been having a problem for a while?”

You didn’t know what it was about him, but as you watched him sit down and wave you over to the other empty seat, you couldn’t help but feel so at ease around him. Yeah, you were attracted to him, and normally when you found a guy attractive, it made you overthink everything, but around him? Calm, cool and collected. It was strange. 

“No, it just seems to be a problem today, I was fine yesterday. I guess I’m distracted.”, you murmured. He raised his eyebrow, leaning forward in his seat so he was closer to you. 

“What are you distracted by?”, he whispered. You looked at him, first focused on his eyes, then your gaze darted down to his lips. You told yourself over and over in your mind that it was a bad idea, and you didn’t want to get him or yourself in any trouble, but honestly, he was looking very irresistible. 

You took a deep breath in, “I don’t know”, you responded back, also in a whisper. And that was when he leaned in, Heeseung’s lips crashed into yours. You pulled him by his shirt closer into your body. Your eyes were closed, your heart was racing as you sunk deeper and deeper into his affection, into his kisses. You both momentarily halted your makeout, taking a minute to catch your breath before going back in for more. 

And that was the start of your relationship. 

After that, the two of you snuck around quite a lot. Because your group was older than Heeseung’s, you guys didn’t live in dorms anymore and all of your members had their own places. You were no different. And because Heeseung lived in a dorm with many other people, including managers, it made it hard to spend time at his residence. So most nights, if he could sneak away, he’d come over to your place and spend the night. This however, after almost a year of dating, would end up backfiring when you were followed home one night. However you didn’t go home alone, you were returning from a date with Heeseung. Someone was hiding in a bush across the street and snapped as many pictures as they could of the two of you walking into the apartment. Then the next morning, more pictures were taken of Heeseung walking out, with you leaving an hour later. 

So obviously, the media had a field day with the story when the pictures got leaked. And now here you are. Forced to sign a NDA, basically pressured into breaking up your relationship with the man you had fallen in love with. You glanced over at Heeseung again, which is where you locked eyes. His gave off a sense of sadness. Something you hated to see in him. You only ever wanted him to be happy. And you thought that you could make him happy, but now you felt like all you caused Heeseung was pain, due to you being irresponsible. One of the staff for Enhypen stood up, gesturing towards me, “We mean no disrespect, but we feel that if the company confirms this relationship, these reports I should say, we feel that Heeseung’s career would be put in jeopardy. Y/n is not only older in age, but in experience. This should be her problem, her apology to make. We should deny it and all move on.” The man sat back down in his seat, Heeseung shook his head in disapproval and mouthed an I’m so sorry, towards you. You nodded reassuringly at him before looking back over at the CEO. You felt powerless, like no matter what was proposed, you were going to end up as the big loser in this. Your manager stood up just then and started to speak, “I don’t see what the problem is. And matter of fact, I don’t see why you’re shaming Y/n”, he said angrily, “They’re both adults, if they want to date, let them! What’s the point in making her look bad? Just admit it, let people be upset for three days and then watch them move on. Why punish these kids?”, he questioned. The room went quiet for a second before the CEO cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look over at him. 

“This relationship is too high of a risk to take. We will deny it and move on. End of story.”, and with that, the CEO was up and out of his chair, walking out of the room. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, the kind you get when you’re about to cry. But in this case, tears were actually starting to form in your eyes. You tried to discreetly look up at the ceiling to get them to sink back in and not fall, but you were positive that your emotions were easily readable to all the onlookers. Heeseung’s manager ushered him out of the room before you could even say a word to him. But as he was being pushed out, he looked back over at you and gave you a wink. Your group’s leader held your hand under the table as she tried to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But you didn’t need her reassurance. You knew that everything would work out. 

That night, instead of the sound of keys jingling at your front door, you heard a tapping sound coming from your bedroom window. Upon arriving in your bedroom, there was Heeseung standing outside on the small balcony. You laughed and opened the window as you watched him climb in. You stared at each other for a few seconds, no words spoken between you. All he did was pull your body into his own as he smashed his lips onto yours. His kisses were comforting, familiar and reassuring. Which was everything you needed from your boyfriend. As he pulled away, he held your face in his hands as he peered into your eyes, “No one could ever take me away from you”, he whispered. 

“I know”, you responded as you rested your head on his chest. 

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

---

Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

[lineffability]

He grows tomatoes.

Well, he tries to. Crowley does not usually try to grow plants. He decides to grow them, and they obey. It's vendetta ad vengeance at once. But lately, nothing seems to obey his will. It's weak, that will, broken into smithereens just like his heart.

And he can't even take it out on his plants. That's because Crowley has mercy.

So he tries to grow tomatoes.

It's summer (the first summer without him) and he has lodged in an airbnb in the country, and behind an old ramshackle ram-shack he has made himself a little plot of land. Well - it's all God's stupidly green earth, isn't it. But this two by two piece of earth he claims for himself. He could have at least that, right? He looks up at the sky. Frowns.

Let me have at least that.

Aziraphale liked to do things the hard way. (He's still doing that, Crowley supposes, up there. Up there. He's not dead, but it feels like it. He's gone. Gone to Heaven. Not to a better place.) Aziraphale liked to do it properly, the human way, when it pleased him. Which was often, but not always. French. Nom de dieu de merde. Pardon his French.

Pardon his stupid everything.

Crowley inspects his tomato plants. He's trying to grow them the human way. Funny, that. He nurses them like he nurses his heart, and miracles won't do. He's tried.

I think I should not be encouraged to grow tomatoes, he thinks.

Raindrops fall on red and green: the plants and the vines and the tomatoes and his hair. It's August, it shouldn't be raining this much. It's been a shitty August. It's been a shitty year. Thirteen months and two weeks and one day, to be exact. Not like he's keeping count. Why bother?

There's a spot on one of the leaves, and Crowley's heart sinks before it even had the chance to ever rise. It's only one tiny, dark, black spot, but he knows what it means. It means it's too late.

A horrible month. A horrible life. Not the right conditions to thrive. Disease, showing its ugly head, grinning. It's already too late. It's always too late. It would multiply and spread. It has already spread, underneath. Invisible to visible. It won't take long, now.

His soul is a tomato leaf.

Black as grief.

He's tended these seedlings, he's raised them, and planted them, too, and here they are before him tall and proud and still alive, and Crowley knows they are already dying. He can relate.

The sensible thing to do would be to discard it all, be done with them. It's not worth the effort, technically, to keep them alive. But to Crowley it's worth it. It has to be. They are worth it. He is worth it. Stupid stubborn perseverance, stupid stubborn hopeful heart.

He isn't immune to foreshadowing. He looks up again. Angry, this time, bitter. A bit of surrender, too.

The rain drips and drops on his face.

He looks back down, snaps the sickly leaf off with expert fingers. Continues to tend to the plants, as he will until they inevitably die. He plucks a tiny tomato. It's so small, fragile, one of the first of a doomed harvest: but it tastes sweet.

Determined, Crowley continues his labor of love, patient as with all living things.

He is responsible for these vines.

Maybe, despite everything, just maybe, he can nurture his heart back to health. (And maybe, just maybe, he is not human and does not do things the human way. When it pleases him. He's always been a rebel. Just a little miracle, a little bit of life-giving defiance. So small no one notices, not even us.) Crowley smiles.

He grows tomatoes.

.

This ficlet was inspired by Louise Glück's Vespers. May she rest in peace. "In your extended absence, you permit me use of earth, anticipating some return on investment. I must report failure in my assignment, principally regarding the tomato plants." read the full poem here

[haespoir]

me after you: ldh.

⨯ pairing: general!haechan x princess!reader

⨯ word count:  6.2k

⨯ genre: historical au, secret relationship

⨯ summary: being a royal means that you don't have the luxury of marrying for love. but when your younger sister is set to marry your childhood friend turned secret lover, you have to do something.

⨯ content: a lot of angst, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide, character death, open ending

⨯ playlist: fine, taeyeon / lucid dream, aespa / forgetting you, davichi / if it is you, jung seung hwan / how can i love the heartbreak you’re the only one i love, akmu

⨯ a/n: this comes after watching scarlet heart in one sitting. please be kind, this is the longest thing i've written in a while! feedback is always welcome ♡ . . .

You’re barely 10 years old when you first see him. You’re crouched behind a tree as you watch your brother Jaemin from a distance, an unfamiliar male by his side. You have no idea what they’re speaking about, but frankly, you don’t care much. You just want to know more about the male next to Jaemin. 

You've heard numerous stories of love at first sight. You’ve always believed that your first love would come and sweep you off your feet, that they would come in and whisk you away from the palace. But that’s not what he does. Instead, he fills your mind with fantasies, scenarios you only wish you could pursue with him. You imagine nights under the stars with him, being wrapped in his arms would be a dream come true. All this and you don’t even know his name. 

Suddenly, your muse for art is at its all-time high. You stray away from the usual flowers and bright colors. Dark colors make an appearance, and an unnamed male becomes the star of your paintings. It’s odd how someone you’ve never had a full conversation with occupies your mind. 

There’s this odd hunger that makes a home in your heart. Something that can never be calmed. At least not by you. Not by anyone but your mystery man. 

It’s not until a few weeks later that you get a name to match the face. Lee Donghyuck, the son of Grand General Lee. You know right away that he is destined to do nothing but good in his life. A man who can save countless countries in your eyes. 

You finally formally exchange names with him. It’s a wonder really, the way just a few words have you flying on cloud nine. “Lee Donghyuck,” he had said, voice sweeter than honey. It was sad how quickly you became smitten. 

But it seems you are not the only one because it doesn’t take long for the two of you to click. You’ve got a routine going, a secret shared amongst yourselves. Late nights turn into adventures, hand in hand the two of you explore everything the night skies have to offer. 

Looking into the eyes of Donghyuck you swear that he holds your whole universe there. He is limitless. The stars are not confined to just his eyes; they float in his voice when he whispers sweet words to you, and they dance along from his skin to yours when you touch. They surround him with this celestial warmth that is blinding to you. 

It doesn’t take you long to realize it, but you’ve fallen in love with Lee Donghyuck, desperately in love; it stays that way for years to come. 

And then the letters are sent out.

. . .

You are invited to the royal wedding...

Your attendance is requested at the wedding celebration of PRINCESS YI MIYOUNG and GENERAL LEE DONGHYUCK on the evening of Saturday, the 5th of January in the year of 1540 of King Jaehyun’s rule. 

The celebration will be held in the estate gifted to the prince consort and the princess after the formal wedding ceremony in the royal palace. Guests are required to bring forth a gift that will be presented to the bride and groom as well as the original invitation, which is to be presented on entrance. This invitation is extended to the immediate members of the recipient’s household.

His Majesty, King Jaehyun

Father of the bride.

. . .

Anger is a foreign emotion to you. But soon, you’ll find it’s your best friend. 

The date of the wedding weighs down on your soul. It crushes any hope that you have. Like a harsh wind, it blows out the flickering light of hope you have, and it leaves you covered in a darkness that you are unfamiliar with. Sorrow courses through your veins, but its presence is barely acknowledged. There’s something else there that takes control.

Anger.

It clouds your senses until it's all you see. A white flash of rage. A single swipe of your arm leaves your tea cups broken on the floor. Tears of anger slip down your face, but it makes things worse. You’re weak, so weak. And you’re an emotional mess. 

You wish you could be angry at your father for allowing it to happen. At Donghyuck for making empty promises, or even Miyoung, for just being Miyoung. But you can’t. It’s impossible. Your anger is directed at one person only– yourself. 

You hate yourself. It becomes a cycle of self-loathing. You’re unable to be angry at anyone but yourself. You are too careless with your heart. How could you have been so foolish? You know better than anyone else that there’s no room for love when it comes to the royal family. 

You rip the decorative accessories from your hair and throw them with all the strength you can muster. Even so, they don’t make it far. They land in front of an unfinished painting, the image haunting you. A painting meant for Donghyuck. How could you bring yourself to finish it now? 

A piece of glass catches your attention. How easy would it be to end your suffering? A simple cut would be enough, would it not? You could be free of all the politics, free of the pain. The glass feels heavy in your hand and suddenly, you are weighing out your life options.

But the more you think about it, the more your anger manifests. How could you allow someone to have so much control over your life? You’ve given your heart away so easily, and you aren't sure if you’ll ever get it back. 

Without realizing it, your grip on the shard of glass tightens and soon you’re drawing blood. But with your emotions running so wild, you don't even feel the pain. Scarlet tears stain your clothing, but you don't mind. Not now. 

You’re tired, tired of being walked all over. You’re tired of not having a say in your life. But– at the same time– you’ve lost all care. Bitterness seeps into your heart, and you feel like giving up.

However, you refuse to be weak this time around. You’ve been kicked into the dirt once again, but you won’t allow yourself to be buried. You will grow this time, and this time with more resilience than before. 

You watch as another drop of blood falls from your hand. This time, you’ll care only for yourself. This time, you will only care for your own happiness. You’ll face everyone with a fake smile. You’ll congratulate the married couple. And you won’t reveal your sorrow.

. . .

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off Donghyuck’s chest. There had been a few hiccups, but he had survived greeting his future wife. It’s not like he really wanted to, but he knew he had a role to fill. Miyoung wasn’t at fault; it wasn’t as if she had approached her father and begged to allow her to marry him. 

No, it should have been you to do that. 

But he also knew that you were not in the proper position to make those demands. He sighs softly; what a truly frustrating experience this was. The meetings with Miyoung and the King had been draining, but it was clear that they were to be married for political reasons only. After all, Donghyuck came from a family of generals who were completely loyal to the crown. 

As if the sky was reflecting his exhausted nature, the sun had begun to set. The light was slowly dying, a beautiful pink hue painted across the sky. You would have loved to see this sunset; it was one of your favorite activities, just chatting away under the disappearing sun. 

Had he been more aware, he would have heard you approach him. Standing in front of him was a princess, and he would argue that she was his favorite one. 

His surroundings seemed to be muted in comparison to you. There was nothing as vibrant as his lover, if he dared still call you that. Almost instantly, his heart clenches; it hammers within his chest like the war drums sounding his army’s march. It was almost as if his heart was echoing its intent for you. 

“Princess…” Donghyuck catches himself, addressing you with your proper title before an affectionate nickname can slip past his lips. “I hope you are well.” He bows with a foreign eagerness to place as much distance between the two of you as possible.

As he gazes at you, he begins to wonder if betraying the crown is worth it. If it meant he could hold you in his arms he believes he would forsake the entire country for you. That thought alone is terrifying, and it goes against everything his father has taught him. 

So with as much courage as he can, and it’s not a lot, he speaks again: “I bid you farewell.”

There’s an undeniable feeling that pools in your stomach as you look at him. It’s an ache that squeezes your heart so tightly it’s hard to breathe. There’s no one else that you would want to spend your life with, yet he is the same person who is forbidden to you. 

In your bandaged hand is a piece of fabric, one that holds the love and affection you have for the male in front of you. Intricate stars are laced through the dark fabric, representing the countless nights the two of you had spent together. So many sleepless nights spent on something for a man you could no longer love. A man you could no longer call your own. 

“Donghyuck,” you say, almost choking on the tears that you refuse to let fall. There's a feeling of happiness that blinds your senses when you see him, yet you can also feel your heart break at his cautious nature. How could the affection that once laced his words be completely gone? The words that left his mouth felt foreign, and they left you feeling bitter. 

“Please accept this,” you whisper, nearly begging. You barely manage to grip his sleeve; it seems he is in a rush to leave you. That idea only has your heart hurting even more. Your nights amongst the stars seem so distant now. He seems so distant now.

The way you said his name hurt. Even if he had scars covering his body from war, none would hurt as much as it did hearing you call his name out like that. He did not want to do this, it would be so easy to leave and run away, but when a princess begs, it is in your best interest to act in favor of the princess. 

Duty before self. Crown before duty. Country before the crown. These were words that he was taught since he was just a young boy. It was these same words that now haunt his every decision. Duty to the crown– the king had decreed his partner for life. There should be no space within his heart for you. Yet, you occupy all.

With trembling hands, his heart overriding the screams of protest in his head, he takes the star-laced fabric. Quickly, his eyes dart around, checking to see if the two of you were truly alone. Once that’s confirmed, he doesn’t hold back. Calloused hands cup the delicate face of a princess, your beauty clouded by the tears gathering in his eyes.

“What are you expecting?” He asks.

Maybe hours later, when he’s regained control of his emotions and he’s alone, he’d probably berate himself for giving into his weakness. However, right now, the crown be damned. It nearly broke his heart to see you hurting, especially when he loved you so dearly. All because you wanted him to accept a gift, which he’s sure is a parting gift. Even if he wants to deny it. He could be heartless in his duty to the crown, however, this was too much. “I’m already promised to Miyoung,” he says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You know the king’s decision is final, and I cannot love you. We cannot be seen like this.”

“Leave me.” He whispers, watching as the tears that had pooled in your eyes begin to fall. “And forget me.”

“Forgive me,” he thinks to himself. 

It’s a concept that is foreign to you; the fact that his words hurt more than any physical wound- you’ve never felt anything like this. His words are like needles, and your heart is their resting place. 

Like always, Donghyuck is able to take your breath away. But this time he’s left you with no air, and no words as well. You don’t know what you had expected to become of the two of you– after all, Donghyuck was always someone who chose his country and the crown over anything. 

“I can't accept it,” you sob. And even if you tried, you don’t know how to. There's no one else in the palace who you love as much as you love Donghyuck. And it’s so difficult for you to come to terms with. 

“I can’t leave you, and I can’t forget you,” you recited as if it was a mantra that had been playing in your mind for days. And you had. Your thoughts had been consumed with Donghyuck since you had met him. 

Donghyuck, without much thought, presses his lips to yours. As if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as if he wishes to ease the pain of your breaking hurt. And it works, if only briefly. 

You relish the feeling of his lips against yours, a feeling you find yourself not knowing you missed. You never realized how hungry you were for Donghyuck until you got a taste. Like a drug, you’re not sure if you’re able to give him up. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, unable to let go of him. 

But no matter how selfish you wish to be, you can’t.

An internal conflict impossible for you to escape. You pull away from him quickly, tears spilling from your eyes freely now. How could you do this to Miyoung? How could the king do this to you?

Donghyuck had lost to his own weakness; he had lost to his own emotions. Everything always came back to you. Your lips were just as he remembered. You were an addiction to him as well, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to quit. 

He knew you. He knew the meaning of those tears; he could see the conflict brewing within your eyes.

“You're thinking about Miyoung, aren’t you?” He says softly, his hands moving to curl stray hair behind your ear. “You’re unable to betray your sister, as I am unable to betray the king.” 

He’s once again brushing your tears away with his fingers. “So much for being a general,” he bitterly thinks to himself. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to run away with him, but he has a family to think about. He has to think about his duty to the crown and to his family. Unknowingly, tears had also begun to fall from his eyes. “The moment the King announced our marriage it was over. What did you expect coming to see me here?”

His words are once again stabbing at your heart.

“Of course, I'm thinking about your wife,” you say, “My sister. Your wife. A person who gets to spend their nights in your arms.” It hurts even more as you speak, the words leaving your lips in soft breaths. It’s official, Lee Donghyuck has broken you.

The feeling of his fingers on your face brings back nostalgic memories. Instinctively, you lean into his touch. There is nothing that you wouldn’t give up for Donghyuck– you were just that in love with him. But you were just a princess– a princess willing to give up their title and life just for some general. And while you want to say that you’re unsure if Donghyuck would do the same, you know his loyalty to the crown is undying. And that is what tears your heart apart. 

“Do you know how difficult it is?” There are so many nights where you find that sleep doesn’t welcome you with open arms anymore. Instead, it turns its back to you, ignoring your pleas as you spend the night tossing and turning. 

It’s hard for you to speak; you’re choking on tears. You don't know what you expect from Donghyuck anymore. Your situation has become so complicated. It's hard for you to even comprehend. 

“I can't expect the same love I once received, I know I can't,” you say weakly, hating how difficult it was for you to speak. “But I do. Donghyuck– I crave it. I miss you so much.”

“To-be. Wife to-be. We’re not married yet.” He states bitterly, doing his best to draw the line distinctively. “She will not spend her nights with me. I have not touched her hand, her lips, or her.” 

It’s like daggers are embedding themselves into his heart with each word. He does his best to defend himself and calm your anxieties as he speaks. “I will sleep in my own study even if we are wed.”

“To be or is, what difference does it make? You are no longer mine Donghyuck– why can’t I grasp it?” you speak with anger towards yourself now, each word produces a new cloud of darkness in your heart, a feeling you’re becoming used to unfortunately. 

You’ve come to a full circle of blaming yourself. You’re the one to blame, had you not fallen for Donghyuck that fateful day, this wouldn’t be happening. Had you begged the king to allow you to wed Donghyuck instead of Miyoung, maybe you would have gotten your happy ending. 

But it’s too late for that now. Even the thought of Donghyuck spending a night with Miyoung pains you. Though you want nothing best for your siblings– if Donghyuck is Miyoung’s best, you might find yourself changing your mind.

“You are always the last thought that I have before I close my eyes. You were my very last thought when I thought I was on the verge of dying.” His words are earnest as he speaks. “You are the one that kept me strong on the way back home, back to you. I thought about your crying face and fought the reapers who had come to claim me.” 

Donghyuck’s hands drop to your waist as he pulls you into him, holding you close. “The love you’ve once received is still here.” He takes your hand and places it over his chest. “You will always be in my heart until the day I breathe my last breath.”

You grip the fabric that separates your hand and his heart. “You plague my every waking thought, Donghyuck. And even when I think I can be free of you– you appear again. Countless nights I prayed for your safety. I prayed for you to come back. To come back to me.” But that’s not the reality you get. Your father had rewarded the man you loved for winning the war by giving him your younger sister’s hand in marriage. How cruel.

“It is torture to give a man your heart and soul only for it to be rejected because the crown and country are placed higher than you,” you say, hitting his chest with your balled-up fist. “It is truly torture having to hide away from your family because you’re ashamed. Ashamed to face your sister for loving her soon-to-be husband. Ashamed at the fact that I couldn't even be vocal about how much I loved you– how much I do love you.”

You move to cup his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his face in ways that you can only hope to express how much affection you still hold for him. “What are we to do? What am I to do?”

Donghyuck swears this is like a dead game of go, several stones are already stuck. Defeat is imminent. Perhaps he is going soft and becoming vulnerable. He had heard this is what love does to a person. He had warned those who learned from him that placing too much focus on one objective would be their downfall. Yet here he is, doing everything in his power to keep you safe and by his side. 

Even if he meant betraying his loyalty. 

It would be simple; avoid the engagement and wedding as long as he could. Then, when your brother Jaemin takes the throne, he could annul the engagement. It would have to work; it was the only way. For this to work, the King must die.

He could do it in five years, maybe even four. An illness, or a coup. Something like that could work, right? The thought alone makes his heart race. Someone with an undying loyalty to the crown, thinking such treasonous thoughts.  

He looked at you, the love of his life. He could see the pain that flickered in your eyes. Were you worth committing high treason for? To go against the crown and country? To go against everything he had ever known?

The answer was blatantly yes. 

Would your love survive if he was the one to end the life of your father? Even if it was a perfect crime, would his own soul survive dealing with the guilt?

“I love you.” He whispered, pulling you into him once again. Donghyuck closed his eyes, willing away the demons forming in his mind. When someone you love more than life is in pain, it is a very simple decision to make on the spot. 

Donghyuck lies.

“It will all be fine,” he says. “I will find a way for us. Can you wait?”

One look into his eyes, and you know he’s planning something. You can hear the cogwheels turning in his brain. Like a true General, or to-be Grand General– you know he wastes no time in making plans. You know him too well, after all, he was once your Donghyuck. 

Being in his arms was where you belonged, where you would happily spend the rest of your days. But that was not so easy anymore. You could no longer hold the affection you once held for him. 

Logically, it’s not right. You know it’s not. It's your loyalty to your sister that reminds you of this every single day. Miyoung was a princess, and you would not allow your sister’s reputation to be tarnished. There were just some things that were above you. Anyone with a brain knows that this is not just some easy mistake to be fixed. 

But you have always followed your heart. 

So you allow yourself to fall into Donghyuck once more. “I love you as well,” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You can hear his steady heartbeat as you place your head on his chest; it calms your aching soul. Donghyuck is your sun, your moon, and all your stars. You know that he is someone you’re willing to fight for. 

“I will wait for you until the end of time, you know that.” The words slip past your lips effortlessly, a white lie in its purest form. You know that Donghyuck will always be in your heart, but you also know how the world works. It works in cruel and unfortunate ways. 

A princess as soft-spoken as you will never get what you want. You are a pawn to others. You know soon enough that you will be married off– just as your sister was. And when the time comes, will you still be able to put Donghyuck above all else? 

“But are you able to wait for me?”

He leans away from you to look at your face, his hands not leaving your waist. “I fought death for you,” he thinks to himself, feeling his heart swell at the image of you. 

“Is this doubt I hear?” He gazes at you with false anger, a playful smirk decorating his features. “You dare doubt the hero, the Grand General Lee Donghyuck?”

“I will wait for you until the end of time,” He says, leaning in and stealing several small kisses between each word. You allow yourself to be showered in his love, and you enjoy the feeling wholeheartedly. You carve the feeling of his lips against your skin into your mind. You won’t ever allow yourself to forget it; you won’t allow yourself to forget your love. Separating himself from you, Donghyuck takes a step backward, his hands gently holding both of yours.

“I’m not good with words,” he begins, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But since I’ve already broken my own vow to stay away from you, I might as well speak freely now. I had prepared for months to say this, hoping that I would get to say it when I received your hand from the King.”

He takes a breath, his gaze meeting yours. 

“Once, as a young boy, my father told me to never stare at royalty. We should keep our heads bowed. And I took that to heart until you. How could I not look at the most beautiful person in the palace? For the first time in my life, I took a gamble. I asked Jaemin to introduce me to you. I was just his sparring partner then, and I thought I would have been executed for that.” 

Donghyuck thinks back to that day, smiling fondly at the reactions he remembered receiving from Jaemin. Why was his sparring partner interested in his sister? It hadn’t made sense to Jaemin then, and a part of Donghyuck almost wishes he never asked. 

“Jaemin introduced us, and when you smiled at me… I was never able to look away. If not for you, I don’t think I would have ever known a love so deeply in my life. I fell in love with you when I was ten, just a young boy,” he smiles, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m twenty-three now, and I’ve been loving you more and more each and every day since I was ten. I regret not a second of it.”

You know that your end is coming soon. 

But with every word, Donghyuck makes it so much harder for you to give him up. His words cause your mind to run; it runs to a place where the two of you are free to love each other.

However, that place is not here.

You two are but a small chapter in the novel of this country, a small insignificant chapter. And you realize that now.

Yet your heart still races at his words. You know that you are Donghyuck’s weakness. So it leaves you no choice but to be the strong one in your situation. 

“Every second I've spent with you, there is not a single regret that plagues them. You have given me the love I never knew I needed.” You raise your intertwined hands, placing a gentle on the back of his hand.

“And for that, I thank you. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I knew you would be more than just a man to me. I've given you my whole heart, and I can only hope you keep it safe.” Your words pain you. You know this is your goodbye, the last time you will ever see Donghyuck with these feelings of love dancing in your heart. 

So you press one last soft kiss against his lips before you speak again: “I should head back to my quarters, as should you. It's quite late. Be safe.” 

With these last words, you let go of your first love and quickly turn for your room. The farther you get, the more tears fall. You wonder if it’s really better this way.

. . .

It is a good thing that Donghyuck had not spoken of his treasonous thoughts to you because they fall through so quickly. 

The silence in the air becomes a newfound friend to you. Something you once detested before now brings you endless comfort. The day is coming sooner than you hoped. You must congratulate your sister. You must congratulate the love of your life, Lee Donghyuck, for getting married to your dear sister.

It hurts. It hurts like hell. There are so many things you wish you would have done differently. You wish that you didn’t meet Lee Donghyuck– that you never fell in love with him. You shouldn’t have given everything away so easily. Because now, you’ve become a fool, a pawn in this game of chess. All of you have.

You’ll be okay. It's a mantra that repeats in your head like a broken record. He's not worth it. Nobody should have control over your life like Donghyuck does. It’s time for you to let go. 

And so you try.

The moon supplies no light in the dark garden. Yet, you are there. Your canvas is set– Donghyuck’s unfinished painting there. The dark sky is displayed on the once white canvas, small stars littered sparsely amongst the space. Two figures bask in the glow provided by the white paint. Figures that were once Donghyuck and you have been completely remade into Donghyuck and Miyoung.

It ignites anger in your faint heart once again. But the healing scar on the palm of your hand reminds you to never take the anger out on yourself, never again.

So you take your anger out on the painting.

With a heavy grip, you stab your paintbrush into the canvas. Before your eyes, the painting becomes two pieces. Something you wish their marriage would become.

But it hurts you to even think these ill thoughts. You care for your sister so much. And you care for Donghyuck even more. Yet there’s this new evil that rests in your heart. Suddenly, becoming bitter seems easier than letting go. And it definitely looks more attractive with every second that passes.

It takes a few days of peaceful meditation, but you find yourself in the garden again. Your muse this time, a budding flower. A representation of the new relationship that will bud between the two. A representation of the new take on life you have.

The color blue stains your fingers. A color for freedom and peace. This painting is made with Donghyuck in mind. The words “I forgive you," are woven throughout the flower. And you only hope that Donghyuck is able to understand it.

The nights following your breakdown instilled a resolve that you could have never found yourself following. A path laced thoroughly with bitterness and hatred. A path completely unfamiliar to you. But it’s a path you will now call your own. For you have learned that those with a faint heart can’t survive. They won’t survive. And now you will do whatever it takes to survive.

You spend the night before the wedding in the garden again. It is foolish for you to hope that Donghyuck will arrive. You know that it is wishful thinking. As you walk the path engraved in the ground made by the two of you, you know it is the last time.

. . .

The morning brings signs of your new beginning. A new you. This is your chance at a new life. You will create a new path for yourself, a path you will now travel alone. You no longer need Donghyuck. All you need is yourself.

Your resilience is stronger than ever before. But you know that your weakness rests in your heart; you would be foolish to lie to yourself and say it doesn’t. You have always been someone who loves wholeheartedly. From a young age, you gave everything you had to offer to those you love. You had given your heart to Lee Donghyuck, and now you had to give him to your sister. 

You arrive at the wedding on time. But the happiness in the air has no effect on your mood. You’re sad and heartbroken– it’s inevitable. But you don't let it show. 

Sitting through the ceremony hurts. It’s expected, but you begin your healing process quickly. You lower your expectations for Donghyuck. You no longer expect anything from him. Not even a glance.

And so, your eyes stray from him. They only stay on Miyoung. Your heart hurts for the younger princess. You know that she wants nothing more than to not be married to Donghyuck. You know that someone else resides in the heart of your sister. Yet you hope she is able to find happiness. You don't wish for darkness to form in her sister’s heart.

. . .

“Your Highness, your sister comes bearing gifts.”

You stand tall, a soft smile on your lips. “For her highness, an embroidered scroll.” The scroll your maid hands over tells the tale of sorrow you feel for your younger sister. An arrangement of flowers decorates the fabric, a single daisy being the star of the show. A flower to represent hope and innocence. You pray that Miyoung is able to keep her hope throughout this marriage and that her innocence never fades.

“And a painting for you, General Lee.” The bitterness that dances on your tongue makes it hard for you to keep your composure, but you do your best. The blue carnation decorating the canvas is not something that you have ever laid your eyes upon. Rather something you have created for Donghyuck himself. The last thing you will ever create for him.

“I wish you both a prosperous marriage.'' Those are your final words as you bow. Your eyes avoid Donghyuck's as you leave, disappearing from his sight once the door is closed. You only wish that all involved can find happiness. For this is the last time you will allow yourself to be heartbroken like this. 

. . .

King Jaehyun gathers everyone’s attention with a clear voice that rings out clearly in the chilly night air. He motions to the tables set around a fire that blazes in the middle to warm the guests against a biting winter breeze. 

Daughters sit with fathers, quietly gazing away from the king out of politeness. Sons sit with their mothers, quiet and attentive, ready to hang upon the King’s every word.  Here marks the start of a toast: from a father wishing the best to his daughter in her married life, from a king looking proudly on his son in law who’s already achieved so much in such a short amount of time. There is a moment when the mantle of the king is laid down and instead, the wishes of a father ring out into the night.

It's obvious that the princess is unhappy sitting next to her now husband. It's obvious that her husband looks as if he wants to be anywhere else, beaten down already as he is by the rumors and the whispers about his wife and their marriage bed. 

The King can see it all clearly, but to them, he wishes them lifelong happiness. He hopes that in the end, they’ll find it. And he expects that they will. 

No one notices the looks that are shared slyly behind his back between certain members of the court. Everyone is far too interested in the married couple at the head of their table, seated close to the King. They’re far too invested in the King’s words, and the gleam of pride in his eyes when he looks over at the married couple as he is ready to put the cup to his lips. It’s a signal for everyone else to do the same, and so they do.  

It's a shame, really, that no one notices. This all could have been avoided if they had.

The toast ends with a sip of alcohol in the King’s presence, all members of the party turning away from him to drink from their cups. It doesn’t start right away– people put down their cups, and there’s once again a dull chatter that bubbles through the crowd. After all, no one is expecting a red wedding.

It takes a few minutes to settle in the system. Most poisons do. First, it’s the princess who coughs up blood, staining her hanbok a dark shade of crimson. That’s when the panic begins, her coughing not stopping; she continues to cough and bleed, unable to breathe from the poison that’s boiling hot in her system.

It's not just the princess though.

Several members of the court are clutching at their robes, heaving and clawing in fevered desperation to cling to their lives. The poison is fast acting. And it leaves the princess, the Minister of Defense, and a General as cold as the night air.

In the blink of an eye, two sons become the head of their family, forced to take on the mantle of their dead fathers. In the blink of an eye, a princess is stolen from the world. And in the blink of an eye, three families are torn apart and heartbroken. For a long moment, there’s silence. The King is pale. 

And then all you can hear is the wailing of the groom.

[bethanythebogwitch]

There are some animals that, if they didn't exist and somebody made them up, we would say they had an overactive imagination. The bobbit worm is one of those creatures, the closest we have to a real-life Mongolian death worm. So for this Wet Beast Wednesday, I'll tell you about just how weird it is.

(image: a rare full-body shot of a bobbit worm)

Before we start, I want to go on a brief tangent. What exactly is a worm? Well it turns out that like fish, worms aren't real. At least they aren't from a taxonomist's perspective. In common parlance, we refer to any long, skinny, and (usually) legless invertebrate as a worm. In taxonomy, that is far too broad of a category, especially as lots of animal lineages would have started out as something a lot like a worm and you can't stop being what your evolutionary ancestors were. Instead, taxonomists classify worms into multiple distinct phyla that independently converged onto the worm body plan, including the platyhelminths, nematodes, nemerteans, and annelids. The bobbit worm (Eunice aphroditos) is an annelid, which are known for their multiple body segments. More specifically, it is a polychaete or bristle worm, which are known for having a pair of fleshy protrusions called parapodia on each body segment, which have chitinous bristles called chaetae growing from them. There is some debate that the bobbit worm may actually be a species complex, which is when multiple related species are mistakenly classified as a single species.

(image: a bobbit worm found in an aquarium)

Bobbit worms are the largest of the polychaetes, with the largest known specimen being 299 cm (9.81 ft) long. They are also rather skinny, usually reaching no more than 2.5 cm (1 in) wide. Bobbit worms have a wide range of coloration, ranging from brown to black and often with a rainbow of other colors going down their bodies. You might not notice this, however, because they spend most of their time burrowing under the sand in their Indo-Pacific coral reef habitats. This provides protection from predators and is important to their hunting strategy. Bobbit worms will stick their heads out of the sand and wait while their 5 antennae use chemosensitive and light-sensing cells to detect when fish pass by. When a fish comes too close, the worm strikes. They use a set of retractable jaws that are razor sharp and come together like scissors to bite the fish. This bit is strong enough to cut small fish in half. It is rumored that this is the source of their name, from the Lorena Bobbit case. I will not elaborate further, google it if you don't know. Those fish that are not killed immediately will find themselves bleeding out and paralyzed from venom injected through the jaws as they are dragged into the worm's burrow to be eaten. There are some reports that the wom's chaetae are also venomous and that handling them barehanded can cause permenent numbness, but this does not appear to be the scientific consensus. The worms will also feed on seaweed and other algae, making them omnivorous.

(gif: a bobbit worm catching a fish)

The borrows made by bobbit worms are dug out of the sediment and coated with mucus. The worm uses its chaetae to move in and out of the burrow. The mucus if filled with nutrients that bacteria, particularly sulfate-reducing bacteria, absolutely love. This allows iron sulfides to accumulate in the mucus. When exposed to oxygen in the water, usually at the opening of the burrow, the sulfides will become iron hydroxides. These help reinforce the burrow's opening. Bobbit worms rarely leave their burrows and will retreat at the first sign of danger, making it very hard to spot them in the wild. Several fossilized burrows have been found, one dating to 20 million years ago. Another burrow of a similar animal, possibly an ancient relative of the bobbits, was found dating to 400 millions years ago.

(image: a bobbit worm head with jaws extended)

Bobbit worms reproduce externally. At night, a female will emerge from her burrow and release pheromones that attract males. She will then release her eggs into the water. The males will follow by releasing sperm, allowing for fertilizations. The majority of larvae will die before reaching adulthood. There are rumors that females withh bite off the male's genitals to feed to her young, but this is not true. Bobbit worms can also reproduce asexually by splitting. When handles, a bobbit worm can split itself into multiple sections, each of which can grow into another identical worm. This is a common adaptation in polychaetes as it allows them to survive if a part of them is eaten.

(image: a bobbit worm just sitting there, menacingly)

Bobbit worms have become a nuisance species in aquariums. They are usually introduced as tiny larvae clinging to rocks brought in for decoration or shelter. Once in an aquarium, the worms can grow rapidly and will eat any fish in the tank. Removing them can be very difficult due to their size, regenerative abilities, and reclusive nature. One famous case that introduced a lot of the internet to the worms was that of the Newquay aquarium in England. Aquarium staff were confused when a lot of the fish were vanishing from one tank and the coral was damaged. They tried laying traps, but the intruder ate the fishhooks they used and could bite through 20 lb fishing line. Finally, they lured it out with food, finding a 4 foot long bobbit worm that they named Barry. Barry became a hit online and was moved to his own tank. There apparently were plans to put him on exhibit, but I can't find confirmation that this ever happened. Given that this happened in 2009 and the bobbit worm lifespan is 3-5 years, I am sorry to tell you that Barry has passed away. RIP, king.

(image: Barry after being removed from the tank. His drab color is thought to be the result of poor nutrition)

Because of how reclusive they are, bobbit worms are an understudied species. Attempts to raise them in laboratories have mostly failed, so there is a lot we don't know about their reproduction, development, and behavior. We also don't know if they need any conservation efforts.

How many times in this series am I going to be able to use cards from this series? (image: the bobbit worm card from Weird n' Wild Creatures)

[missmonsters2]

—NIGHTHAWK | EIGHT

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: The Poe Cup race has long passed and Wednesday actively tries to ignore the bet she's made. She may have won, but why does it feel like she's been defeated? She may be able to ignore it during the day, but not so much at night.

Warnings: Wednesday laments over planning a date. Enid is exasperated. Thing, our lovely messenger. Xavier gets threatened with jail. Mother!Weems

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: Wednesday: I will threaten you with a horrible time—wait, no not like that.

Part Seven

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighthawk: Noun. A recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks, her voice dull but tinged with a hint of annoyance.

You look at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I know you're trying to write."

Wednesday sighs, letting the ire settle away. After all, this was your room. But Wednesday had taken your words about coming here for some peace and quiet last week seriously and brought her typewriter the next day to your room, and it's been there ever since. 

Wednesday actively doesn't think about what it could mean that she'd been moving her stuff over into your room slowly because, at the very least, she still goes back to her own to sleep at night. 

She actively doesn't think about anything to do with you during the day.

"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks again, her face unimpressed with how you've shuffled your coffee table, the inside of your closet, and how you've been eyeing your bed as if it was next.

You purse your lips as if debating whether or not to tell Wednesday the reason, but when she pinches her eyebrows at you, her gaze becoming more narrow, you relent. 

"I thought it'd be nice to have more room..." you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck.

"You've already optimized the space to its full potential," Wednesday raises her brow at you. "You won't be getting anything more unless you start throwing away things and you own nothing like the miserable orphan you are."

You can't help but laugh.

"I was thinking of giving away the coffee table," you admit with a smile. "One of the gorgon girls in the woodworking class said she could make me an extendable coffee table that I could fit into my closet."

"Why have you asked her? It is doubtful her skills would be superior to mine."

"Because you're not taking woodworking and it would have to be an extracurricular activity to do outside of class, and I feel like there's more interesting things you could be working on," you point out, giving up on rearranging and sitting on your bed.

"Like what exactly?" Wednesday flatly asks, her gaze studying your fictitious nonchalant face. 

"Do you like horror movies?" You ask instead of answering Wednesday's question, which makes the gothic girl's mouth twitch in annoyance. 

"If you're asking if they scare me, then no," Wednesday answers succinctly, with a tilt of her chin. "But I do enjoy watching them if they're done well."

"Me too," you tell her. "I mean, they do kind of scare me but I also kind of enjoy the feeling because then that means the movie was good."

There's a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lip, too quick for you to see. 

"Which ones have you seen?" Wednesday asks, curious about what your tastes are. "Which ones terrify you the most?" Her eyes are glinting. 

"Not too many," you give her an amused smile. "Remember, I didn't really have access to the internet for entertainment, and I'm not really one for watching it by myself." 

You sit in thought, and Wednesday waits in anticipation. This was the kind of information that Wednesday had been waiting for because it was difficult to gauge what you were afraid of. 

"I think maybe paranormal movies?" You say, your tone lifting at the end like you were unsure.

Wednesday's face fell. "You're scared of ghosts?" She asks, thoroughly unimpressed. 

"Hey," you kick her foot lightly with your own. "How are you supposed to fight something that is already dead? They clearly already have the upperhand."

Wednesday lifts her hands and starts counting on her fingers. "Rituals, spiritual artifacts, using a psychic, destroy whatever is holding their attachment here, become a ghost yourself and—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," you laugh. "I still find them unsettling, though."

"Ridiculous," Wednesday scowls with distaste. "There are far more horrifying and interesting genres."

"Well," you say lightly, and Wednesday looks into your eyes. They gaze into her like they want to draw her in and send a secret message. "Guess you'll have to show me one of these days."

Wednesday wants to ignore the secret message. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You'll have to show me one of these days."

The words kept repeating in Wednesday's mind, torturing her while she tried to sleep. Usually, it'd be lovely, but Wednesday would've preferred that it was her nightly sleep paralysis afflicting her instead. 

Wednesday had successfully ignored the fact she had won the bet of winning the Poe Cup race. It makes her irate that she’s won yet she feels like she’s been defeated. At least during the day, she was able to ignore it. At night, it haunted her and cost her sleep. 

On top of that, Wednesday was still looking into what her vision could possibly mean. During the day, she spent all her time analyzing you, searching for clues that you might turn on her just like Tyler had. It would be just her luck to have it happen to her a second time. 

But while Wednesday could see something lurking underneath your mask you put on to others, and even sometimes to her, you seemed mindful about the pace to be close. It was different from Tyler, who constantly made it known exactly what he wanted from Wednesday and that he wanted it immediately. 

Wednesday had been snooping around, hoping to trigger another vision, but nothing had come; therefore, she was at a dead end. She supposes she could just bring the issue to your attention and hear your thoughts, but for some unknown reason, she was reluctant. 

"You'll have to show me one of these days."

Damn it all, Wednesday sighs with force.

The task at hand was overdue, and Wednesday wonders if you wonder if she'll keep her word and plan this...date. The idea of being thought of as someone who couldn't keep their vows was disconcerting and disgusting.

This was ridiculous, Wednesday thinks as she removes her covers and sits up. So utterly ridiculous.  

Wednesday Addams never backed away from a challenge, and she was most definitely someone who kept all her threats and promises. 

She grabs a piece of paper, neatly scribbling words onto it before she tosses the pen to the side. 

"Thing," she whispers, even though nearly nothing could wake Enid at this hour. The disembodied hand gets up from his resting place and scuttles quietly over to her. 

"Drop this off and bring me a reply," she tells him. 

He looks at the note and starts signing words to her.

"Yes, what's wrong with what I said? It is succinct."

Thing makes a show of being exasperated with her using his fingers but takes the note and scurries off. 

Wednesday doesn't return to bed, waiting impatiently for Thing to return with her arms crossed, her index tapping her inner arm. It's minutes before the hand returns with a note in return.

"Was she awake?" Wednesday asks, and Thing indicates that you were. He passes her the note.

Wednesday grins, but it looks maniacal.

'Are you threatening me with a date? I thought you'd never ask.'

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sounds of Wednesday typing lull you through your headphones. It's a consistent sound, and the only break is when the sound of Wednesday returning the carriage as the page hits the end. 

It was late at night, and it was unlikely for either of you to go out again. Since it's just the two of you in your room, you have your wings out, carefully preening the feathers with your fingers. The scars were healing nicely, but any forceful exertion would make them split open again, and you were not keen on that happening. You're also pretty sure Wednesday would be disgruntled with you if you did as well.

"How are your wings?" Wednesday asks as she takes a break from her writing.

"Sore," you admit, ruffling them lightly. "I can't really stretch them without re-opening the wounds, and they're usually hidden inside my back most days."

"I've been meaning to ask how that works," Wednesday stares at you while you gently massage the sore areas, being very careful of how far your stretch.

"I wish I could explain, but I really can't," you shrug. "It's just innate in faeries to be able to hide their wings. How does it all fit? I'm not sure, really. Most likely evolution and fae magic."

You were really focused, seemingly annoyed with where you couldn't reach. 

"Do you want assistance?" Wednesday offers. 

You freeze for a moment, looking up at Wednesday. The idea of Wednesday's fingers going under the feathers and pressing her fingers carefully against your wing was...a lot.

"Oh, uh," you remove your fingers from your flight appendages. "No, it's okay."

"Why?" Wednesday raises her brow. "You're clearly struggling. Do you not trust me to handle your wings carefully?"

"No, no, it's not that," you correct immediately. You sigh for a moment, feeling the heat rise to your ears. "It's just..." you shift on the bed. "You know my wings are sensitive."

Wednesday nods. "And I will be meticulous."

"It's not that," you mutter, feeling warm. "You massaging them...touching them...like that..." your voice trails, and you feel slightly mortified. This was so embarrassing.

Wednesday seems to catch on immediately, and her back goes straight and rigid. "I see." Her voice is brisk.

"Yeah," you say quickly back. "It's, you know...just ticklish," you say to avoid the awkwardness, but you both know it's not quite that. 

Wednesday just nods, not pushing to offer her help further, but there is a curious look in her eyes. You don't dwell on it as you check your watch.

"Oh, shit," you sigh as you stand, gently brushing the last of your feathers with your fingers. 

"What?" Wednesday asks with a frown, watching your wings disappear. 

"Larissa is leaving for some conference. It's apparently a long trip and she needs to drive out tonight."

Wednesday recalls Weems mentioning her absence for the weekend and a group of teachers being in charge, but there was hardly a need for concern as it was the weekend.

"I have to go see her off," you tell Wednesday. "It'll probably be a couple of minutes. Are you going to stay here writing?"

"I will be finished in a couple of minutes as well," Wednesday says. "I will be returning to my dorm room for the night. I have preparations to finish."

"Preparations, you say?" A sly smile on your lips that Wednesday rolls her eyes at. 

Since that night after the Poe Cup race, there haven't been any kisses. Wednesday's still figuring out what to make of it all. You seem content with how things are, and Wednesday was slowly studying her own desires and how to handle them accordingly. Sometimes, Wednesday thinks it was easier kissing a serial killer.

At least with the serial killer, she didn’t have to do any date planning. But since she was, she was going to do every single part of it correctly and perfectly. Wednesday mindlessly thinks she’s probably been driving Enid insane and feels gleeful at the thought.

The sly smile turns soft, the rarity that only belonged to Wednesday. You lean over and faintly kiss her on the cheek, and your warm lips tinge Wednesday's cool skin. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

You leave Wednesday sitting in your room with a soft click of the door, heading out to the front gates. There are still some students wandering about, and you give them friendly, light smiles with a short wave of your hand as they greet you. 

Inwardly, you sigh. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I'm very serious," Weems gives you a stern look. "If there's anything wrong, you're to go to the nurse immediately. Don't think I've gotten over the last incident you had with the gorgon girls."

"I told you it was an accident!" You sigh almost dramatically. "They're nice girls! They're just...enthused...and strong."

Weems merely rolls her eyes but doesn't comment on it anymore. 

"I will only be gone for the weekend, I should be back Sunday night. It will be a short meeting."

"I know," you say, hiding back your sigh. "It'll be fine. I'm just going to be doing homework over the weekend."

"Right," Weems raised her brow, and an amused and wry smile graced her lips. "And by just doing homework over the weekend, you mean having a date with Miss Addams?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at Weems. "How did you know?"

Weems just makes some noncommittal noise before sighing. "My life seems to be fated to be entwined with the Addams family."

You look at her curiously, but Weems waves you off before she looks at you with a mildly uncomfortable look. "Do I need to give you the talk—"

"No!" You say immediately, cutting the principal off. Heat rises up your chest, burning the tip of your ears, and your cheeks feel hot. "It's—" you clear your throat into your fist—"it's fine. I'm good, I know."

Weems's face is slightly flushed red at the apple of her cheeks, and it makes you feel better. The two of you chuckle, letting it die into a comfortable silence. 

"I'll be home in two days," Weems repeats, softer this time. 

You nod. "Okay," your voice softer as well. It was strange, but you really did like having Weems around, despite Wednesday's grumbling about her. "Have a safe trip."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Saturday passed quickly, and Enid could not be more thankful. If there was one more annoying thing than Wednesday obsessively investigating things, it was Wednesday obsessively trying to plan a date. Her grim roommate was extra unbearable this entire week. 

Thing dropped off a note to you earlier today to meet in Wednesday's room at precisely 7PM with your laptop. While Wednesday executed her plan, Enid kept her company for most of the day. 

"I'm surprised you were able to actually cook dinner here," Enid says dryly. "I can't believe you made your own makeshift stove and didn't burn our entire room down."

"Controlled arson is child's play," Wednesday drawls. She finishes setting up a projector she's borrowed (stolen) from a classroom before setting down a blanket with some cushions. She looks at Enid. "Give me all of your pillows."

"What? Why?" Enid frowns.

"Because only I enjoy sitting on rigid and awkward angles that may give me back or neck pains later," Wednesday explains succinctly while she grabs the one pillow from her bed, tosses it on the floor, and then grabs a black fuzzy blanket.

Enid sighs, reaching for her pillows and tossing them onto the blanket. Normally, she might've denied her roommate the request, but it was clear that Wednesday was trying to make this the perfect date from the way she's been obsessing about it all week, meticulously planning and researching. 

It was endearing to watch, but Enid wouldn't say it out loud.        

"You will change the pillowcases and wash the old ones when I'm back tomorrow," Enid warns her roommate, who noncommittally nods.

Then Wednesday freezes. "You're not returning tonight?"

Enid smirks. "Nope. I'm having a sleepover with Yoko tonight." She then gives Wednesday a look. "I won't do it too often, especially since Fae has her own bedroom you guys can be doing your dates at."

"It's smaller," Wednesday mutters, even though she knows it would've been fine to do it at your place. But Wednesday chose to do it in their own room so that she could rely on Enid returning in the worst-case scenario where the date was a failure.

Wednesday checks the time on her wrist and finds she has no time to make adjustments now. It was 6:55PM, and you'd be arriving soon. 

"Leave," Wednesday dismisses Enid, who sighs at her roommate's callousness but still wishes her good luck as she goes to find her vampire best friend along with Thing.

Time ticks slowly as Wednesday checks to ensure the sea witch paella she made is still warm. She does a final review of all her preparations and stands near the door. 

Wednesday wouldn't describe herself as nervous, but she does feel an uncomfortable pressure in her chest and something twisting in her stomach.

It's nauseating and exhilarating.

7:00PM. 

Wednesday waits, telling herself that while it's annoying that people are not customarily on time, it's not abnormal. 

7:05PM.

You were late, but Wednesday isn't worried. You aren't typically late to things, but there's been an occasional time she'll catch you out of breath running to class or to their nightly meet-up.

7:15PM.

Irritated.

Now Wednesday is irritated with how inconsiderate you were being and plans to make you reiterate what you were doing every single minute to be late. She knows you know the time to meet was 7PM. When Thing dropped off her note to you, you also provided a note back saying, 'You have such a way with words. See you at 7PM sharp then.'

A liar is what you are, Wednesday thinks with a downward curl of her lips. Wednesday pinches the bridge of her nose, annoyed at the fact that she has a stupid phone that is utterly useless. She wanted to throttle both Xaiver and Enid for endlessly praising how useful it was to have one. 

7:30PM.

Wednesday clenches her jaw as she blows out the candles and turns off her makeshift stove. She's vexed, but a larger part of her doesn't believe you'd not show up. The vision Wednesday had during the Poe Cup race appears, and she briskly strides out of her room.

Not in your room.

Not in any of the classrooms.

Not in the garden.

Not in the cafeteria.

Not in the library.

"Addams," Bianca greets with a raise of her brow. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

Wednesday stops as Bianca approaches her. "You knew?" Her eyes narrow.

Bianca rolls her eyes, her blue eyeshadow accentuating her eyes. "Of course. Fae briefly mentioned it in the afternoon with a sickeningly happy look on her face. Can't say I see the charm of being on a date with you, but I digress."

"So you did see her earlier then?" Wednesday asks pointedly, ignoring everything else the siren said. 

Bianca raises a brow slowly at Wednesday's behavior. "I did, but she left for her studio about two hours ago. Why?"

Wednesday doesn't bother answering, walking past Bianca with haste.

There was only one place left to check, and Wednesday expected you to be there. You had better be sitting in your studio, having lost track of time, and Wednesday would berate you. But you'd be there to apologize, and they could salvage what was left of their date, and Wednesday would pointedly remind you that it was your fault their food was cold. They'd watch their horror movie as planned, and it wouldn't matter if it'd be late into the night because Enid wasn't coming back anyway.

Because if you weren't there, Wednesday would certainly kill someone. 

"Wednesday!" Bianca calls as she strides to catch up to Wednesday as they pass the Quad, grabbing the attention of Enid, Yoko, Xavier, and Eugene. 

"Wednesday!" Enid calls after her best friend, but she ignores it, walking with a distinct purpose to your studio. Enid and everyone else get up with haste to follow after their friend. "Wednesday, where's Fae?"

The familiar tree trunk comes into view, and she does the same sequence of action she always does to enter, not caring that she looks insane.

"What are you doin—where'd she go?" Eugene asks, his eyes narrowing as if that would allow him to see Wednesday again.

"It must be a fae realm," Bianca deducts, thinking back to her conversations with you. "Sirens have something similar. She must've created one out of her studio. Just follow what Wednesday did."

One by one, they repeat the actions, and Enid is the last to go through. And when she enters, she finds Wednesday a few feet away from her, eyes narrowed with her jaw clenched.

They don't have time to take in the space and view, as amazing as it is. 

"This isn't right," Wednesday grits out, her hands forming into fists. "This isn't the studio."

It looks perfect—neat and tidy. 

Untouched.

"What do you mean?" Bianca asks as she looks around. "This has to be Fae's studio, I can see her belongings. Look—these are the vases and pots she made in pottery class."

Wednesday's eyes move to look at the three pottery pieces Bianca is pointing at sitting in a cluster on the coffee table. They weren't perfect, a little wobbly, and you had laughed when Wednesday pointed out every imperfection and questioned why you even let them go into the bisque firing to set. 

But you said you liked how they were very clearly flawed and still worked without a hitch. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary, and they were most definitely yours. 

The only problem was that earlier today, Wednesday had come into your studio while you were studying. You had given Wednesday a strange look but asked no questions as she grabbed the soft, fuzzy black blanket you favored. You bought it in town recently after Wednesday started to help you apply the salve, picking black specifically because you hadn't known Wednesday like you do now and heard she was allergic to color. 

It was for the cooler nights, not that the cold ever bothered Wednesday, but it didn't stop you from carefully draping the blanket over her. Now, it was in preparation for tonight's date when they were watching horror movies.

Yet, the soft black, fuzzy blanket in her room was also folded neatly on a shelf inside a trunk-turned rack. Which also wasn't where Wednesday had taken it from earlier today.

"This is weird, though," Enid mutters, inhaling deeply through her nose.

"What?" Yoko asks as she takes off her glasses and looks around. 

"Wednesday, you said you and Fae are here pretty frequently, right? I thought you came here earlier."

Wednesday nods rigidly. 

"That's weird," Enid ponders, tilting her head. "I can barely smell you and Fae in this place. It's like...very stale. Months old, at least."

"Wait," Eugene furrows his brows. "How is that even possible?"

Xavier looks in deep thought, holding his chin as he thinks, but Wednesday already knows. Especially after Enid confirmed the scent. 

It all leads to one conclusion. 

This wasn't your studio, or more accurately—you and Wednesday haven't been in your real studio for some time.

"Is there anyone in this school that has Fae's number?" Xavier asks, and it makes the room tense. "Does she have Snapchat or anything that could show her location?

Bianca shakes her head. "No, she doesn't have any social media and she hasn't even given me her number, not that I think it would be useful, anyway. She's never on her phone except to watch her shows or read. Half the time, I'm convinced she probably just leaves it lying around."

"We...we should contact Weems, right?" Eugene asks as he looks at everyone. 

"Even if we do, Weems won't make it back until the morning, at least," Xavier points out. "But we should."

You were missing.

No, you've been taken.

The thought felt hollow, like Wednesday couldn't believe it. It only lasted a second before pure, unadulterated fury filled her. It was like a hot white ball forming in her chest, making her clench her jaw, barely able to contain the noise she wanted to let out. 

Wednesday hadn't been watching for you just half a day, planning this ridiculous date that you had been so stupidly excited for, and you were taken.

Wednesday can only blame herself. 

She blames herself for so many things. 

Indulging you.

Indulging herself.

She should've never agreed to this date—she should've never agreed to you. 

Why couldn't she just have dismissed you as another passing curiosity? Why couldn't she have just gotten what she needed to know and left you? You should've been nothing more than a passing, disturbing thought.

It would have saved her from feeling so wretched now. 

"Wednesday," Enid says softly. She lifts her hand to gently touch her roommate but thinks better of it when she practically smells the anger radiating off the grim-looking girl. "Wednesday," Enid repeats instead, "We need to find her."

"Of course," Wednesday snaps, unable to even comprehend that she was snapping at the wrong person. "Spread out and start searching every corner of this inane institute."

Xavier looks upset. "Wednesday, you shouldn't look alone—" 

"Go, or I will unapologetically send you to jail for a second time," Wednesday cuts off, threatening the tall, lanky boy with a glare. 

Bianca grabs the sleeve at his elbow, dragging him out while the others follow. 

Thing is the only one left with Wednesday, and he stands on top of the table, waiting for Wednesday to say something. 

Wednesday's jaw is clenched, and her hands are closed in tight fists. 

The problem was that Wednesday did indulge herself, and now you were hers, even if she refused to say it out loud. 

You. Are. Hers. 

You were hers to make pay for making her feel so wretched over you. 

"Thing," Wednesday bites out. "Bring anything personal of hers. Bring me anything that looks out of place."

The mystery brought her obsessive personality up to the front, and she would solve it.

Wednesday was going to find you—because you were hers—and she would slowly maim whoever had taken you.

PART 9

[revive-the-fandom]

Please tell us more about the dragon hunters idea as I have had several of my own thoughts about how to attempt to make them make sense and would love to hear someone else's :)

done! full thing here

after thinking about it they make a little more sense than i thought but Johann's twist still puts a spanner in the works sometimes. Edge of Disaster doesn't make sense if he only joined up between s4 and s5. but Dire Straits and Last Auction Heroes don't make sense if he joins up before that.

theres a couple of things that people have pointed out i didnt address, like there being no women. but i honestly think that's a sexism thing from the creators - they couldnt be bothered to go back and make new female models, then later realised that theyd made wayyy too many male ones so panicked and made the wingmaidens.

it's a problem thats existed since rob aired bc neither the Berserkers or the Outcasts have women among their ranks. (we see some women on Berserker Island in Somethings rotten on berserker island, but theyre not a part of the army).

berserkers, outcasts and hunters being all male ↑

this even extends into httyd 2 as there's no women in erets crew or drago's army

there are basically only npc women on Berk, the Defenders of the Wing (and thats only because they recycled the "hiccup and heather in disguise" models) and Wingmaiden Island lmao.

like i dont even count the warlord lady because wow we got 1 woman. like i dont even see other women in their armies

which is a weird fucking decision since there were warrior women on berk this whole time

like theres less than id like but they are there, its a trend not an exception.

but for the in canon explanation tho, i think that maybe Dagur attempted to take the Berserkers backwards a bit, and maybe put all their women on defense instead of aggressive positions. he undid 50 years worth of peace with Berk because he felt that the berserkers had lost their edge, so he probably reversed some of the laws his dad made too.

I guess since the Outcasts are all criminals or descendants of criminals they might have some kind of civil war between the genders? or civil agreement to not live together. because i imagine theres quite a few assholes living there and generally historically women have been the target of said assholes??

as for like eret and drago and the warlords i guess the Archipelago is more isolated and has more progressive rules about women than the rest of the world.

the Hunters might have a more traditional view on women. i think that they have various settlements (ports, farming villages, etc) and thats where their women are. one of the biggest jobs for viking women irl was making the sails of the ships, so i think that probably took up most of the Hunter women's time.

Heather joining them might have been forced by Dagur, who at least recognises that Berk has produced a lot of formidable women warriors and possibly had to reassess some views after getting his ass handed to him by Heather and Astrid.

but again, the more likely reason is that the creators are just sexist.

i hope that was interesting at least lol