#yep she will and her set of abilities are good for support

[esouliie]

DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…

– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)

[word count: 3.4k]

Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.

Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…

Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.

Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.

This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.

The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.

As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.

“Hey, Wanda.”

She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.

"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"

“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”

Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”

You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.

Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…

“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”

You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.

“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”

Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.

Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.

"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.

"You’re so much more than him.”

You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.

Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.

“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her admission.

"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.

To keep stroking your hand,

To keep whispering in your ear.

To keep close to you.

“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.

But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.

Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.

“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”

…

A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.

Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.

“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”

With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.

Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.

“Let’s forget it happened.”

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”

“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.

“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”

Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.

But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.

“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.

“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”

She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.

She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”

She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.

“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.

Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.

Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.

Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”

A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”

Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Wanda… please!”

“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”

You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”

“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”

You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.

“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…

But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.

This was your best friend’s mom.

Natasha didn’t deserve this.

“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”

“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”

Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.

“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.

“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”

Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”

Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.

The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.

“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”

A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.

 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.

Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.

Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.

You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.

The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.

Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.

Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”

Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.

You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.

Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.

To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.

Because she didn’t care.

She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.

“Can you look at me, princess?”

Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.

She looks so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…

Natasha.

Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.

You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.

“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”

Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.

“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”

A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.

Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.

Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.

“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”

You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.

Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.

Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.

A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.

Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.

Finally, she had you.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.

And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.

…

After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.

Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.

You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.

Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.

“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”

You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.

You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.

“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”

You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”

Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.

“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”

She guides you out of her neck to look at her.

“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.

“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.

It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”

You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.

“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.

“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.

Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.

“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”

Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.

“Keep saying you love me, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.

“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.

“Come on. Be good for me.”

It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.

She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.

A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”

“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.

“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.

Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I'm pretty sure the Andrew lifestyle was an option for H&M. The BRF also did this for Margaret, particularly in her later years, and to a certain extent the Queen Mother.

In return for a life of privilege and almost permanent holidays, the family made up a few bullshit sinecures and patronages, so Margaret & Andrew could pretend they weren't completely useless. (The more intelligent, less lazy, royals realise of course that they can use their influence to do a lot of good in the world and thus bring meaning to their own lives). In return all they needed to do was support the family when needed, be unquestioningly loyal, keep the privilege of their lifestyles as private as possible, and put up with a lot of criticism about their uselessness from the Press. Unfortunately Meghan wanted none of this. She had the laziness down pat, but in addition to a life of almost permanent holidays, she also wanted the crowds and global adulation (bigger and better than W&K if possible), a fawning press, a massive dress allowance, tiaras, red carpets, invitations and the ability to monetize her royal work. And that has never been and never will be an option.

Yep. She wanted the most reward for the lowest cost. She's always been that way.

Another anon pointed out (I'll post that one next) that Meghan expected she'd get the Kate treatment because it's also what Diana got. As that anon said, Meghan didn't understand what marrying the spare meant - she only understood the BRF in terms of marrying the heir. And maybe that's partially Harry's fault because he's always believed he'd get co-regency with William and no one set him straight unti he was getting married.

Which I think highlights the overall problem the BRF had. The Queen reigned for so long that the much of the family was treated like they were all the heir, in certain respects, throughout the 80s and most of the 90s. To an extent it was understandable - it's the children of the reigning monarch and it was the 80s/90s so some of the excess was worthy. But that really did blur the lines, especially between Charles and Andrew, which in turn caused the lines to blur between not just between Charles's and Andrew's children, but also between Charles's own children.

IMO, it wasn't until around the millennium that the BRF began to adopt the line of succession as a hierarchy for work, but that progress was so slow-moving it didn't really become noticeable until the mid/late-2010s when it became clear that Beatrice and Eugenie weren't getting the same royal privileges that Wiliam and Harry had, and that Harry wasn't getting the same privileges that William had. If the distinction between Charles and Andrew had been clear from the very beginning, we may not be in the same boat we're in now with Harry (and Meghan) expecting equal treatment to William and Andrew.

But the 80s and 90s were very, very different times. It makes sense why things happened the way they did.

[c-is-for-circinate]

As promised: let's talk Hades, and how acts of abuse can create toxic environments for everyone around them, and also how people react to those environments--and to them being disrupted.

(For reference, I have just kicked Theseus's ass for the first time, it was exactly as satisfying as it was intended to be, and then I got predictably slaughtered a couple of chambers into Styx. Spoilers for everything through that point, but please no spoilers in reblogs/comments for anything after that!) Also, TW for a whole lot of discussion of abuse, particularly verbal and emotional abuse, and abusive familyworkplace dynamics.

Okay, so. To start out with, Hades is an abusive parent. He engages in innumerable acts of verbal and emotional abuse towards his son, because yep, that's what you call it when a parent constantly berates and belittles their kid for every perceived failure, including the ones the parent themselves could have prevented. Sometimes especially the ones the parent could have prevented. Zagreus failed at his office clerk job because Hades refused to teach him how to do it and then blamed him for not already knowing how. Cerberus tore up the lounge because Hades, who was actually there, chose not to stop him. Hades created, possibly deliberately, and then took full advantage of every opportunity he saw to insult and demean his kid, and the clerk job flashback shows us that he was doing so even before the escape attempts started. I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here, but: yep, that all constitutes abuse, even if they're gods. Even if Hades has reasons for Being Like That. Even if you think Zagreus seems okay and unharmed by it (which: repeatedly throwing yourself into a gauntlet of violence that inevitably ends in your own pain and death because you're so desperate to escape home, not actually an indicator of someone who's okay). We all good on that?

Cool. Because I'm not really here to talk about how Hades' abuse directly impacts Zagreus right now (although there's for sure an essay in that too). I'm thinking about how it impacts everybody else.

Hades isn't as obviously unreasonable with anybody else in his kingdom the way he is with his kid. When we see him lecture somebody else, it's usually for an actual failure to do their job: Hypnos for literally falling asleep on the job and not doing anything that was assigned to him, Megaera for letting us past her so many time, Orpheus for being a court bard who refuses to sing. His attitude is super confrontational and unpleasant, but on the surface it doesn't necessarily look as fucked-up. Thing is, though, whether any individual act of aggression towards an employee/family member is justified or not (I would generally argue 'not', because aggression towards employees/family members is, y'know, not justifiable)--it's not about the individual acts. It's about the entire cultivated atmosphere of toxicity and abuse.

One of the very first things Meg ever says to us is, "I'd rather be on your bad side than his." Up until that point, we've got no reason to believe Meg has any history whatsoever of fucking up at her job. In fact, we've got plenty of reason to believe she's good at it. She's fiercely proud of it, she's frequently Employee Of The [Time Period], and we've apparently never even met her sisters because she handles her shit herself. But she's still scared of Hades. Dusa, who is an anxious wreck at all times because oh god what if she gets fired what if she gets fired what if she gets fired, in spite of apparently being absolutely exemplary at her job, is scared of Hades. Every single shade in the Hall is clearly terrified of Hades, and it's not because of what he's done to each of them. It's what they've seen him do to other people.

Which is how toxic environments work, whether they're work environments or families. The Court of Hades is of course both, always, with the bonus hell layer of you can't quit even if you DIE. An abuser in authority doesn't have to target you in order to make you feel scared, cowed, and desperate to please them. Humans (and gods who are basically extra-powerful humans) are good at learning by example. The residents of the Court get the picture.

So this Court is a minefield--and everyone except Zagreus is very good at tiptoeing around mines. We see it in Meg, so desperate to do her job well. We see that Hypnos very clearly does not give a shit about anything, but he still makes sure to have a list of excuses ready if/when Hades ever confronts him about failure to do his job, just in case. We see it when Achilles tells us that my ability to help you is constrained by the authority your father gives me, or whatever the line was sixty runs ago when he couldn't let me into locked chambers. The system, such as it is, works, and if Nyx talks to Hades as little as possible, if Thanatos avoids the Court entirely, if Achilles treads very carefully and knows how to keep his head down--well that's just the system, right? That's just how things are.

Even Zagreus seems to have had a role in that system as the court fuckup. He's the kid who didn't have a real job or purpose. He could take the focus of Hades' generalized, day-to-day ire off of everyone else, without triggering some of the more direct and violent ire because the work he was doing didn't really matter (a LOT of Hades' rage-triggers seem to be related to job performance, which means that the people with real jobs are of course the most at risk). And he could do so "safely" (big emphasis on the quotation marks there) because he alone of the court is Hades' actual kid, who's Prince of the Underworld no matter how much he fucks up. If one of Nyx's other kids gets something really really wrong, she might be able to protect them from some consequences, but Hades doesn't have any layer of supposed parental affection holding him back from getting violently furious about it. Zagreus gets a nice bedroom and the abuse is limited to words rather than divine power, and Hades is a dick to everyone but he only occasionally condemns people to eternities of torture, and only for good reasons like refusing to sing when your job is to be court bard, so it's fine, everybody's fine, everything's totally fine, right?

Except it's not fine when everybody is so clearly worried about anything going wrong. And it's especially not fine for Zagreus, who's the person to finally say no. He's leaving, for his own sake, because he deserves better and he's finally convinced he can have it. And that turns the whole system into disarray.

I am endlessly fascinated by the ways this game portrays different characters reacting to this upheaval in their carefully-mapped minefield. It's different for authority figures and peers and servants, different based on how people are positioned in the house under Hades' rule, and it's so spot-on and I love it.

Nyx, for instance, is absolutely calm about the whole thing, because Nyx has power. Hades can't hurt her. Hades can't even really do much against her children, not when Hypnos and Thanatos are gods in their own right. Yes, Hades rules the kingdom, but Nyx owns the land, and she gives no shits about his rages. And it's interesting, too, to see the lines she doesn't draw. The deal seems to be that Hades doesn't fuck with her, and doesn't outright threaten her kids (because Hypnos is bad at his job, demonstrably so, and Hades hasn't ruined him yet), and she doesn't interfere with the way he treats the people around him. She gives Zagreus advice and support and the mirror, but she also doesn't take a direct stand against Hades. He can't hurt her, but he could make life...difficult. She's protected, her position in the minefield is more of a safe viewing platform than slogging through the middle of it, but the mines are still there.

And then we have Achilles, who is one of my favorite characters in the whole game because of how he reacts to this whole situation. Achilles, like Nyx, is so supportive. Every single time you see him he has something encouraging to say. He gives us his Codex, secretly finds us weapons, trained us for years, clearly wants us to succeed. And still he's limited, not necessarily out of fear for himself (though he has to be scared for himself, he knows what Hades does to people who anger him), but out of concern that if he gives Zagreus too much help in one way, he won't be able to provide help at all later. He's still so careful.

Achilles and Nyx are so fucking important to this story because they're the only authority figures Zagreus really has in his life except for his father, and they are so supportive. They're what keep this story from being a nightmare of psychological horror and depression. They can't stop the pressure from Hades and this life in his house being miserable for Zag, but they can give us hope, remind us that Zagreus is still loved. And they have such an incredibly important role when it comes to guilt, which is one of the biggest ways toxic systems maintain themselves.

If Zagreus leaves, what happens to everybody else? Who takes Hades' wrath then? Who becomes court scapegoat if he's not there, and also, who gets punished for his escape? These questions matter, and we see him worry about it! He asks Nyx and Achilles both, is it going to be okay that you're helping me, are you going to be alright, will my father hurt you for this? And they are both so firm about telling him no. No, I will be fine. See, here's the list of reasons about why I'm going to be fine, why my position in this minefield is secure. They make a point of telling us that it's fine, that we do not need to hold ourself back from getting out of this abusive situation for their sake. That is instrumental in Zagreus's ability to keep making these escape attempts without feeling too guilty and worried and selfish to go on. (Another thing that's actually really important in setting up that dynamic--we see that Hades cares about Cerberus, even if he's using him as a pawn against us, and Cerberus seems to be the one figure in court who Hades doesn't get mad at. The dog isn't at risk, and that is really essential in keeping the story from getting too grim.) These people who we care about refuse to let themselves be held hostage to secure our good behavior.

It's also really useful for raising the stakes later in the story--we see Hades arguing with Nyx once or twice, and we see Zagreus feeling guilty about it, but it's also a sign that we're making enough progress to piss him off. After I finally made it out of Elysium on my last run, I came home to find him furious with Achilles in a way that actually makes me nervous, because Achilles does not have nearly as much security in his position as he says he does. (Achilles is such a good teacher/authority figure, because he knows goddamn well what Hades could do to him, and still refuses to let fear for his own situation stop him from helping the abused kid under his care escape his. And no, not everybody has the capacity to do that, but it matters so much coming from the guy who helped raise us. It matters so much. I do not even have the words for how much.)

It's also no mistake that many of the people we find supporting us along our journey are either the people with the most power in their immediate environment, or the least. Sisyphus helps us because what more could they do to me than this? Orpheus is a little wild around the eyes and somewhat disconnected from reality, and he wishes us the best because someone should get what they want and also he no longer gives a single fuck what happens to him. Eurydice has her own cozy little corner of Asphodel, as safe from Hades' rage as anybody anywhere in his realm because she's tucked in such an out-of-the-way middle place she's outside his notice. Dusa is so scared of everything anyway that, crush aside, she isn't any more threatened by us escaping than she is just by her everyday life here. Charon is unfathomable and unstoppable; Skelly literally exists to be a punching bag, and yet he also seems basically immune to pain, no matter what we do to him. There's no threat from Hades there.

So the people most at risk when I flip the world on its ear are the ones who have so much standing that they have something to lose, but not enough to protect them from losing it. Which of course brings us to Than and Meg--who are, of course, the two people who also seem by far the most upset by my attempts to leave.

As authority figures, Nyx and Achilles are constantly reinforcing the message that it's Hades' fault, not ours, if they or anybody else get caught in the crossfire of his wrath. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and it's not my guilt to bear. From Megaera and Thanatos, we get the opposite message--I am fucking with things, I am hurting people, and I need to stop. Zagreus isn't just abandoning them, as a friend or brother or lover or all of the above they're Greek gods who even knows. He's betraying them. They were in this together, as friends or lovers or whatever, but now Zagreus is sending earthquakes through the minefield they both still have to stand in. He is about to capsize this boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, he is fucking with the system, and they're the ones who are going to get most hurt.

I'm so curious how this is going to work for Than, who out of everyone we meet holds the closest role to Nyx's in terms of being sheltered from Hades' wrath. He's the guy who gets to leave, after all, even though he always has to come back. I've seen the least of him out of anybody so far because it took forever for me to get to Elysium, but two things really stand out and I'm so interested to see where they go. One, he really genuinely does care about Zagreus. He wants us safe, he wants us unhurt, the accessory he gives us only grants its bonus if we clear a room without taking injury, he keeps showing up to help. And two, he wants us to give up and go back and recognize how good we had it. Which is SO fucking interesting, considering how miserable Zagreus so clearly was, and how legitimate his reasons for being miserable were.

It makes me wonder so much about Than's standards for comparison. Does he know something we don't about what's waiting for us on the surface, something that might theoretically hurt Zagreus even more than staying down below? Has his life, which apparently allows him more freedom than anybody else in the Court, sucked horribly in ways we haven't seen, and that's why he spends so little time there in the first place? Either of those things is plausible, both of those things are plausible, and yet either one leads to this sense of patronizing, because he refuses to simply tell us. If something terrible is awaiting us, don't give us vague warnings, tell us what it is and let us decide for ourself! If you're fucking jealous because we might get out entirely and you're still stuck coming back here, say so. If you're worried about your mom--and he does bring her up, how could Zagreus turn his back on her like that, does seem to worry for her--then let's have an actual conversation about how many times she has insisted I do this and also how much I love her.

And, right, it's clear that a lot of Thanatos being upset is simply, you were going to leave me without even saying goodbye, you want to leave ME, which is understandable! But, like, he is demonstrably the one god who gets to visit the surface. He's the one person we actually COULD expect to see again. And he is absolutely also upset because there's an Order To Things, and we're fucking it up. We used to be his careless callow reckless friend who could talk back to Hades and get away with it, and now we're not, and everything is changing and we might leave him altogether, and we might leave him alone in that court without us, and he hates it.

Is it a short-sighted, selfish fear on his part? Yes, absolutely. Even if he's not scared of Hades on his own behalf, he is still frightened by what happens if we upset this system--and maybe it's the sanctity of a much bigger system than the Underworld that he's worried about! Maybe it's the whole divine and cosmic order. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect is enabling the abuse Zagreus has been dealing with for however-long he's been alive. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect OUGHT to be overturned, or at least shaken up. But this is what toxic systems DO. They convince the people within them that they have to be maintained, that a broken system that hurts the people within it is far better than no system at all, that changing the world is too scary and too dangerous. And Thanatos wants his whatever-Zagreus-is-to-him to be there, because he loves him and also because that's how the world works, and those things are all tangled up in one another, and that is how relationships are in a messed-up family like this so therefore I love it.

And Meg. Meg, the best for last, my dear, beautiful, furious, bitter, scared angry tired girl. I adore her. I am absolutely never going to date her, because the thing Zagreus needs most in his life hurts her, more directly than anybody else in the story, and that sucks, and it's not Zag's fault but they still shouldn't be together. Meg has taken more injury from this situation than anyone, quite literally as well as metaphorically, and it's not her fault any more than it's ours, but oh boy it has made her lash out and it's awful and it's perfect.

Meg's place in the Court of Hades is unique because she's not dead, not a mortal, not anything other than a god--but she's also not family. Nyx is not her mother. She's very much part of this system, she and her two sisters belong to Hades-the-realm and therefore also Hades-the-king, she can't leave, but she also doesn't have that protection of Nyx watching out for her in the same way. She's not royalty. She and her sisters (if you ask Hesiod instead of Virgil, which seems to be the interpretation the game's going with here) sprang from the blood of maimed Uranus at the same time as Aphrodite, but fuck knows Aphrodite isn't claiming them as siblings. And she can't be fired, exactly, but she sure can be demoted, and she sure can be made miserable in her job. Meg is vulnerable in a way very few people in Hades' employ are. She's a lot harder to do away with than any one random shade, but she's also a lot harder to miss blending in with a crowd.

What's more, she's the one person in this whole mess who is specifically tasked with stopping us from leaving. Hypnos isn't ordered to put us to sleep and keep us in our room. Thanatos can't be compelled or punished if he doesn't hunt us down. Achilles isn't told to lock us up and keep the keys. Meg is the one stationed at the doorway to Tartarus to keep us in. Meg is the one who gets in trouble when we leave. Meg (who Hades knows goddamn well Zagreus cares for, or cared for, who he absolutely knows we used to date) is the one who has to fight us again and again and again. And she's the one who keeps dying.

Again, it's this incredibly fucked-up guilt/hostage situation deliberately designed to keep people from fleeing abusive situations. Meg's insistence on fighting us now puts Zagreus in the position of having to hurt her himself again and again. Now suddenly we're the ones sticking a sword in our ex-girlfriend. Now suddenly someone can point to our desire to leave, to flee, to escape, and say, how selfish. How cruel. How terrible of us to want to go, when we're even willing to hurt the people we love to do it.

Except, right: Hades is the one who demands Meg stand there and stop us. Hades is the one who puts both of us in that position. Meg is also in an abusive situation, and she's willing to hurt us to protect herself. "I'd rather be on your bad side than your father's." It's easy to blame her at the start for being complicit, for being a tool of our father's abuse, for being on his side. It gets harder as the game goes on. I've killed her so many times. There's no way for her to beat me. She knows at this point that she can't beat me. She still fights, every single time, still throws herself upon that spike, not because she thinks she has any chance of stopping me but because she is so damn scared of what will happen if she doesn't try.

In fact, Meg's the one person we have actually seen face consequences for our actions so far, instead of just facing the threat of them. Her sisters are here. Her sisters, who she clearly does not want here, who are wild and violent and who she does not want in her life or anywhere near her, let alone near the job she takes so much pride in. She gets to deal with them now. (Hades doesn't have to deal with them. They're still not allowed in his court. But Meg does.) She gets stabbed, and bludgeoned, and shot, and lightning-struck, and poisoned, and every other thing we do to her. Thanatos doesn't. Nyx and Achilles and Hypnos don't. Bug Meg? Oh yes. Meg pays.

And yes, ok, she is complicit in this system. Everybody is complicit in this system. Zagreus who's trying to escape on his own behalf instead of overthrowing his father for the sake of everyone he'd otherwise be leaving behind is complicit in this system. Pointing fingers and pulling strings of who's more at fault? and who do we blame for this? is exactly how this sort of system perpetuates itself. Your sister always talked back at the dinner table and put everyone in an even worse and more violent mood. Your coworker refuses to work more than forty hours a week so now you have to take overtime to pick up their slack. You're enabling your dad by asking your sister to shut up, you're enabling your employer by working as hard as you do so you don't get fired, everyone's at fault, everyone's to blame, everyone is--

It's not everyone. It's Hades. It's Hades at the root of everything, and probably something big and institutional and fucked-up even beyond him. But even if everyone down in this Underworld does have to be trapped here forever, even if he's trapped here forever, Hades is neither challenging the system that put them here nor trying to make that fate better for anyone else stuck with him. He's just created an entire kingdom of backbiting and misery and people who can either go along with his whims or suffer the consequences.

At this point in the game, Meg is so fucking tired. Every time we run into her in the lounge, hunched over a table, the venom in her voice when she tells us "Do I look like I have anything to say to you?" is so bitter and so exhausted. There was a system, and she knew her place in the system, and it was a system divinely ordered by the gods themselves, and sure it was cruel but that's the literal will of the universe as far as she knows it. She had a role, and her role was vengeance and punishment and violence against those who'd committed the most egregious of sins in life, and there was a point to it, she was the divine deterrent to convince people not to do those things, and that was just, and that was right. The GODS THEMSELVES said so. How do you argue with that? You can't possibly argue with that!

And Zagreus is arguing with that. In trying to leave, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that nothing in the Underworld ever gets to leave it. In disobeying his father to do so, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that what the gods say is LAW. He's breaking everything.

And of course he's not trying to do any of that. He's not trying to destabilize the system at all. He's just trying to get himself out of it, to a place where he feels like he belongs and maybe a parent who's slightly nicer to him than this one. But toxic systems like this one break when the people within them have access to another option. When the kids find a way to actually leave, and not answer the phone, and not come home for holidays, and not deal with it any more. When the employees have the economic freedom to quit. When opportunities granted by education, money, social support, etc etc etc, show up and give people a choice. Even if the option is only ever for Zagreus--he's demonstrating that an option exists. Which is, of course, the one thing the system cannot ever allow.

I really like this game.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (19)

(Hey, everyone!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I was away. It’s good to be back! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 18 / Ch. 20 (ao3)

Chapter 19: A Date with Misery

“Marinette, you are.. an incredible person.”

“You don’t need anyone to validate how amazing you are.”

“You are talented, kind, and capable all on your own.”

Felix’s words from the night before played over in Marinette’s mind again and again, an endless loop that she found herself incapable of escaping, and with each echo, her heart seemed to melt further than she thought possible. The comments were simply too honey-sweet, too sincere. She couldn’t help reveling in them. How long had he thought of her that way? How long had he placed her on such a high pedestal that she wasn’t aware of? Marinette knew that Felix had a tendency to make unexpected comments every now and then, but last night truly caught her off guard.. and perhaps made her just a tad bit love-stricken. Had he always spoken to her in that soft manner, the one that made her believe she could be the very stars in his night sky? Had he always possessed the ability to send her heart fluttering the way it did last night, when he allowed her to pull him onto the dance floor and hold him incredibly close? She had no way of knowing, and certainly not enough nerve to ask aloud. But, oh, how her mind ran rampant with fantasies anyway. Will she ever be able to dance with him like that again? Would he look at her the same way he had then, with eyes that felt soft as a cloud in the moment? Did he go home last night and think about her too, endlessly turning on his bed and glancing at his diary- if he kept one, that is -and thinking maybe just one more entry-

“Marinette?” 

Marinette jumped, nearly falling off of the ladder that she’d been balancing on, and felt a blush explode across her cheeks.

“Nothing! What? I mean-” She flailed her arms a bit to regain balance, then peeked down at the person below, the very boy she’d been fantasizing about “-Did you need something?”

Felix stood at the base of the ladder, his brows furrowed slightly. “..No. I just wanted to know if there was something wrong with your heart.”

Marinette sputtered, her blush deepening considerably. She couldn’t have been that obvious, right? What expression was she making before he came over? 

“M-My heart?” She asked- or rather, squeaked.

Felix pointed to a stream of hearts on the wall, the ones she was supposed to be taking down. “You were staring at one of the hearts for quite a while. Is it ripped?”

“Oh.” She said, staring blankly at the wall. The paper hearts. He meant the paper hearts hanging next to her. Not her heart specifically. That made a lot more sense. “No, sorry. The hearts are fine. I was just, uh.. you know.. reminiscing. We had a lot of fun times with these decorations.”

“Ah,” Felix tilted his head up in a slight nod, “my apologies for interrupting you then.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Marinette assured hastily. “It really wasn’t anything important.”

Definitely wasn’t anything important..

She plucked out the pin that held the hearts and started down the ladder to move to the other end of the stream. Felix offered a hand to help her down in the process, and she took it, strongly ignoring the tingling sensation that came from doing so. 

“If you’d like to keep one as a memorial, I’m sure Allegra wouldn’t mind.” He remarked. “I doubt she’s going to keep any of these things herself after all the parties they’ve had.”

Marinette hummed. Keeping a heart streamer as a memorial, huh? That didn’t sound like a bad idea. 

“Thanks. I just might do that.”

Felix gave her the tiniest of smiles, the kind Marinette was used to catching at this point, and slipped his hand out of hers when her feet hit the ground. She clasped her hands together afterwards to compensate, also ignoring the fact that it might have been nice for him to hold her hand just a tad bit longer.

“Would you like help moving the ladder?” He asked, to which she shook her head.

“I’ve got it, but if you could move the box over to the other round table while I move the ladder, I would be grateful.”

Allegra had given her an empty box to put the decorations in as she took them off of the wall. So far, Marinette had exactly.. zero decorations in the box. Gosh, how long had she been staring at that heart? Was she going insane? Why would she even be thinking about Felix this way? He’d just told her last night that he wasn’t interested in romance. Falling for him would be guaranteed heartbreak! It would be completely ridiculous! It would.. It would..

It would probably be inevitable.

Felix was just too sweet to her, too kind. He was always looking out for her and supporting her, always sharing his quiet laughs and amused smiles, and he said too many things that made her head spin for her not to start liking him. There was just no escape! It was going to happen eventually. The only question now was when.

And maybe today was her answer.

Stop it. Marinette scolded herself as she picked up the ladder to walk it over. It’s just some butterflies in your stomach. How many of those did you digest around Adrien?

Marinette froze midstep, an immense sense of horror washing over her. Oh, gosh, this wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation, was it? It couldn’t be. She refused to go through that again. At least not this soon.

Marinette continued walking, if only to avoid Felix’s suspicions, and set up the ladder under the next pin that was holding up her stream. 

When you think about it, this really can’t be another Adrien situation, right? With Adrien, she had no idea whether he liked her or not, but was hopeful despite that and used her friends in an effort to gain his attention. With Felix, she already had her answer. She knew for a fact that he didn’t like her romantically, that he wouldn’t ever like her romantically, and she also hadn’t asked any of her new friends to help her gain Felix’s attention. (Though, in all honesty, she probably wouldn’t need help even if she was looking for his attention, because he already gave it to her willingly on a constant basis, but that thought didn’t exactly help her cause.)

“Is here alright?” Felix asked as he set the box on the end of the round table.

Marinette nodded, scaling the ladder to pluck the next pin. “Yep. That’s great, thank you.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, I’ll be wrapping the candles and putting them in boxes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, pulling a smile. 

No, this wasn’t going to be anything like her crush on Adrien. This time she at least had closure before she began, and although it might be just as heart-shattering in the long run, she won’t be wasting her time wondering “what if” or tripping over herself to become his dream girl in an effort to be ‘chosen’. She’ll simply be his friend, as he’s been to her, and if she’s lucky, this sort-of-tiny-little crush of hers will wither away before it grows into a bigger problem. 

After all, it’s like Felix said: She’ll find someone new who appreciates her eventually. It just.. won’t be him. The sooner she took this lesson to heart, the better.

Marinette plucked the next pin out of the wall, watching the stream of hearts fall into the box below, and started back down the ladder again. That’s one down. Five to go.

She paused at the bottom of the ladder, ready to pull it together so she could pick it up and move it again, when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She quickly shimmied it out to check what the buzzing was for, only to be met with the flashing words “Adrien Agreste - Café”.

It was her alarm clock telling her that it was time to go meet Adrien for lunch. And it couldn’t have picked a worse time. She still had five other heart streamers to take down, and at this rate she was going to have to run half way across town just to make it on time. Ugh- why didn’t she set her alarm clock earlier?

“Hey, guys?” She called out to the group, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but I actually need to get going. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

If she hadn’t stopped every two seconds to daydream about somebody-

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Allegra called back with a smile. “You’ve helped out plenty.”

“Yeah,” Claude agreed. “This was our party anyway.”

“I know, but I only managed to get one of the streamers down.” Marinette sighed.

“But you also helped fold all of the tablecloths and put them away.” Allan reminded her.

“And you swept the room after the trash was taken care of.” Allegra added.

“Go have fun at your appointment thing or whatever. We’ve got everything covered here.” Claude assured, emptying the water from another flower vase.

Marinette smiled as she grabbed her purse from one of the round tables. Her friends were so great, each and every one of them. 

“I’ll see you guys later then.”

“See ya!”

“Bye, Mari!”

“Do you want me to call my driver for you?” Felix asked, briefly setting his candles aside. “It’s quite a walk from here to your house, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I can have Maman and Papa come to pick me up if I start running late.” Or she can transform into Ladybug and swing right over to Adrien herself, which was exactly what she planned on doing. “I’ll text you guys when I get there, though.”

That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he nodded and continued placing his candles in the box. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you then.” 

Marinette pursed her lips and spun towards the door, hoping he didn’t notice the fresh blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Gosh, how was she ever going to survive this boy? Maybe Adrien’s presence will give her a good slap in the face and bring her back to her senses.. She highly doubted it though. With her track record, she’ll probably end up falling for Adrien again too, and then she’ll be stuck between two unrequited crushes! Great!

..Why does she always have to fall for the people who don’t love her back?

~~~~~~~

Wind rushed past Chat Noir’s face as he raced across the rooftops, his grin stretching wide from ear to ear. Today was the day! It was finally the fifteenth! In just a few short blocks, he was going to meet Marinette at their agreed café, and they were going to have a whole lunch together just to themselves! It made him buzz with excitement at the very thought, because finally his plans were progressing. Finally he was gonna have a long, drawn out chat with Marinette as Adrien, and perhaps, if he had gained even the slightest bit of luck from his partner, he would be able to convince her to transfer back to Dupont. Or at least have her consider it. She probably shouldn’t come back right this second. 

Chat Noir landed on a rooftop and slid down the tiles with glee, but before he could leap to the next rooftop, a red and black-spotted figure flew out in front of him. He stumbled back with a yelp, staring at the person with wide eyes as they sailed onto the rooftop across from him. Was that..?

“My Lady?” He called out, pushing himself back onto his feet. What was she doing out at this time of day? It wasn’t like her to be out and about during daylight when no akumas were present.

Unless there is an akuma. Chat realized with horror. He glanced around the city, looking for explosions or destruction of some kind. Please, let there not be an akuma. That would mean he’d have to skip out on his lunch with Marinette! And he’d worked so hard just to get her there!

The spotted figure turned around- proving that it was, in fact, his wonderful Ladybug -and flashed him her signature, Lady-Luck smile. “Oh, Chat Noir! I didn’t realize you would be out today.”

Chat Noir returned her smile and hopped over to her rooftop. “I could say the same to you, Bugaboo. Is an akuma on the loose again?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.” She assured, to his relief. “I just had some free time and thought I would do a small patrol around the city to make sure everything’s still in order.”

Chat Noir chuckled. That’s His Lady for you. Never ceasing to protect Paris. Could she ever become more amazing?

“Sounds like a great idea. I’d be tempted to join you, but I’m actually on my way home already. I’ve been out for a while.” He said, though none of it was true. He hadn’t been out for a while, and he certainly wasn’t running home, but Ladybug was extremely strict on the ‘keeping identities a secret’ policy. If he let something about his civilian life slip- like, say, meeting someone at a cafe about five minutes from now to talk about school transfers -she’d get upset and scold him for divulging too much information. It wasn’t fun lying to the person he was supposed to trust the most, but this was the set up that they’d decided to use. 

“That’s alright. I wasn’t planning on staying out long anyway.” Ladybug replied. “I’ll see you during our next patrol?”

“Or attack.” Chat Noir agreed, giving her a little wink before he took off again. This time he turned to the left of the café, moving in a direction that was somewhat opposite of it. He didn’t want Ladybug seeing where he was going- again, secret identities -but, he also didn’t want to stray too far from his and Marinette’s meeting place, or else he was going to be late. So, he figured he could find a comfortable alleyway about a block or two away from his destination and simply run the rest of the way on foot.

Thank goodness he did, because as soon as he turned left, Ladybug swung off in the exact direction he’d originally been heading. Can you imagine if they’d started going the same way? The explanation for that one would have been awful, he’s sure.

Chat Noir dropped down into an alleyway a few minutes later, just as planned, and detransformed back into Adrien. Running around Paris in his civilian form probably wasn’t going to be any easier than jumping rooftops, but at least he didn’t run into any problems with His Lady. That was a plus, right?

“Ugh,” Plagg groaned as he swirled back into the air, “remind me again why we had to waste my precious energy on a lunch date?”

“Come on, Plagg, you know I hate having Gorilla hover over my shoulder.” Adrien said, offering his kwami a slice of cheese. Gorilla does his best to give Adrien as much space as possible, but still, when you know someone is there specifically to watch you.. “Besides, it’ll give Marinette and I more privacy while we talk.”

Plagg gave a dismissive sigh as he snatched the cheese from Adrien’s hands. “Oh, that’s right. We’re still on pigtails.. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her. It’s not like she died or anything.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m not obsessed. I’m just trying to be a good friend. She’s always been there for all of us. So why shouldn’t I be there for her?”

“Mm.. Does this really count as being there for her, though?” Plagg asked as he shoved the first half of the cheese into his mouth. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to be there for her by bringing her back to Dupont, right? Well, she seems perfectly happy at her new school to me. So why not leave her be? If you want to be there for her, don’t you think you should be supporting her decisions?”

A bit of guilt festered in Adrien’s chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I.. get what you’re saying, but I want her back too. I want to hang out again and talk like we used to.”

“You’re about to talk with her right now.” 

“You know what I mean. I want to talk with her daily, like we do at school.”

“Then, why don’t you transfer schools?”

Adrien let out a small chuckle. “And leave Nino? I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Okay~, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if things don’t work out the way you want them to.” Plagg said. He then shoved the rest of the cheese into his mouth and zipped into Adrien’s shirt pocket.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t reply, instead starting for the cafe. Why would Plagg say something like that? Of course everything was going to work out! Yes, Marinette was happy at her new school, and yes, getting her to come back to Dupont might be a tad tricky (especially since he had to deal with Lila first) but that didn’t mean his plan was going to fail. He simply needed to remind Marinette that she loved being at Dupont too! More so than Rosemary even! It’ll be alright. Plagg will see.

With little time to spare, Adrien booked it to the café, careful to keep his head down and not catch the eyes of the media. Thankfully, he made it there in one piece, albeit five minutes late. It should be fine, though. If anyone were to understand missing the mark for an appointment, it would be her, right?

Adrien slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked inside to check for any new messages from the ravenette, then silenced it when he saw that there were none. He didn’t want this precious time to be interrupted. 

The bell on the café door jingled above him when he entered, reminding him of a certain bakery. He glanced around the room for Marinette hopefully, then lit up when he caught sight of a pair of ravenette pigtails at a table in the middle of the room. Yes! She was here!

Adrien wasted no time strolling over the table, tapping the top of her head to get her attention. She jumped- as she usually does -and whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hey, Marinette.” He greeted with a smile.

“Adrien!” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Y-You’re here.”

“Yeah!” He chirped, slipping into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I ran into a bit of traffic on the way here. How have you been? Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

Marinette settled back into her chair as well, pulling a small, tight smile. “It’s alright.. I’ve been pretty good, and my Valentine’s Day was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Oh, you know,” Adrien shrugged, “same as always. I got some cards from a few fans and did a special photoshoot for my father, but that was about it. I tried to go see Nino or something, but he was with Alya, so..”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I wish it could have worked out better.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly assured. “I’m used to it. Besides, Nino and I have actually been hanging out a lot more during the winter break.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, “That’s good then. You deserve the free time.”

Adrien smiled. What a very ‘Marinette’ thing to say. “Thanks. Have you ordered anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Then let’s go get some food.” He said, standing from the table again. “I’m starving.”

Marinette stood with him, and they made their way over to the line that led to the service counter. It wasn’t long, thankfully, only holding about three people or so. They should be back at the table in no time.

“So, are you enjoying your new school life? I heard you transferred to Rosemary.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time,” Marinette said, a bit too cheerful for Adrien’s liking, “but I do have a question. How did you know I transferred to Rosemary?”

“Oh, uh..” 

Would she accept ‘my good friend Chat Noir’ as a proper answer?

“..Mlle Bustier. She announced to the class that you had transferred, and when I asked about it afterwards, she told me that you went to Rosemary.”

A hum came from Marinette, the corner of her lips tugging downwards. Why was she frowning? Did he say something wrong?

“Is that a problem?” He asked.

“Oh! No.” Marinette replied hastily. “Well.. sort of. I’m just worried that if she told you, then she’d be willing to tell other people.. Like Lila or Alya.”

Ah.. She made a good point. Her whereabouts could be spread around easily if Mlle Bustier was being loose-lipped. Although he doubted that Lila would come after Marinette since she’s not trying to out her anymore, Adrien wouldn’t put it past the girl entirely, especially since she was still spreading rumors about Marinette on a regular basis..

Granted, this only mattered if Mlle Bustier actually told him where Marinette went to school, which she didn’t. So they should be perfectly safe for the time being.

“I’m sure everything will be fine.” He insisted. “I was the only one that asked, anyway, and I made sure we were alone.”

Marinette nodded, but she didn’t look any less unsettled. “You’re sure you were the only one that asked?”

“Positive.”

“.. Okay.” She muttered, fiddling with the tip of her black jacket. Oh, she was getting anxious now! He needed to fix this. Change the subject!

“Anyway, you said your new school was great?” He asked as he stepped forward in line. “That’s good to hear. Have you made any friends there yet?”

Of course, he already knew that she’d made new friends- several, in fact -but hopefully talking about them would help her relax. Plus, it would give him more information on her new environment. So it’s a double bonus.

Marinette took the bait, her hands quickly falling back to her side as she said, “I have. I was fortunate enough to run into a whole group of friends on my first day, and they took me in without hesitation, which was sweet. They even gave me a tour of the school and everything.”

Adrien plastered a tight smile onto his face in an effort to show support. She already had an entire group of new friends? That was gonna be hard to pull her away from.  

“Wow, they sound really nice. You’ll have to introduce me to them sometime.”

“Maybe I can,” Marinette agreed, “but it probably won’t be for a while. We all have schedules and things that we’d need to work out, and I’ve been working on this fashion project lately that I was hoping to get done by the end of next week.”

“No worries. I definitely understand having a busy schedule.” Adrien joked, stepping forward in the line again. “Dupont’s been a little crazy since you left too. We had to pick a new vice president and everything.”

“Yeah, I heard. Lila had to come by and grab the books.” Marinette said bitterly.

Adrien winced. “Really? What did she say?”

“Gosh, I don’t even remember anymore.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I try not to worry over stupid people. I’m sure she just rubbed her ‘victory’ towards me leaving in my face.”

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet.. Lila aside, though, we all miss you. Dupont isn’t the same without you here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as they took another step forward in line. “You all miss me?”

Adrien frowned, partly because she doubted him, but mostly because he knew her skepticism was justified. They didn’t all miss her. Some- if not everyone besides himself -seemed to be happy that she was gone. It was a true tragedy.

“Well.. I miss you.” He said, his heart dropping further when she gave a satisfied nod. She’s already accepted the tragedy as fact, something unchanging, but he was going to work to make things different. 

“Can I take your order?” The cashier cut in, grabbing the pair’s attention.

Adrien and Marinette gave the cashier their order and walked back to their table to wait for their names being called.

“So..” Adrien trailed off as they took their seats. “Do.. you miss us?”

He knew it was a risky question, especially since she’d firmly told Chat Noir a month prior that she did not, in fact, miss Dupont, but maybe her opinion had changed since then?

Marinette shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I.. I’m not sure how to answer that, Adrien. How can I say that I miss the people who treated me like a monster for no other reason than the fact that I decided to stand up against a liar? I get that Lila twisted their views, and that everyone has their own version of a story, but it still hurt for them not to believe me even though most of us have known each other since childhood.”

“Do I miss the fun times and the people they used to be before Lila came along? Sure I do, but they’re not the people they used to be. They’re not the friends I grew up with anymore, and I’m not going to regret leaving a situation that wasn’t good for me.”

Adrien sighed. “Alright.. That’s a fair answer.. But what if they did come back? I mean- like - What if they realized that Lila was lying and came back and apologized and everything went back to normal. Would you come back?”

Marinette frowned. “.. I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is extremely far-fetched, and even if everything did go back to ‘normal’, it still wouldn’t quite be the same. They abandoned me for a foreigner. You can’t really come back from that. Plus, I think Rosemary is a great opportunity for me. It’s a prestigious school with extensive classes on the fashion industry and many other things, and although there can be some snooty, rich students, most of the people I’ve met there are really nice.”

Adrien hummed. Her answer was, once again, disheartening, but he took comfort in the fact that she said ‘I don’t know’ instead of just a straight up ‘no’. That was at least something, right? He could work with an ‘I don’t know’.

“Was this all you wanted to talk with me about?” Marinette asked. “Whether or not I would come back to Dupont?”

Adrien winced. “Well, no-”

Yes.

“-I also just wanted to catch up in general. We haven’t really seen each other in over a month, ya know?”

Although she appeared to be hesitant towards his answer, she gave a small smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a while.”

Adrien chuckled. “You know, I actually tried to go visit you at Rosemary one time before this, but when I asked a student where you were, he said that you didn’t even attend the school. Had you two just not met yet?”

“Uh.. Can you describe him? There’s a lot of people at the school.”

“Sure. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with pale blonde hair and light eyes- I think. He was kind of  just pale in general.”

Marinette snorted. “Do you know the amount of people at the school that could match that description?”

“Okay, okay, uhm.. I think he was wearing dark colors that day. Like, greys or blacks maybe.”

“Wears dark colors, but has light hair and eyes, and is tall. Got it.” Marinette smiled. “Sorry, Adrien, but I’m just not sure. That could be Devin or Caleb or Eliot or any other number of boys. It could have even been someone who’s not in my classes.”

“Right, that’s fine. I was just curious.” He said casually, though it was really eating him alive. He knew that they knew each other. They had to! No one gets that upset during an akuma attack and calls the person their friend without knowing them. The guy even mentioned that their mutual friends were waiting for them! So who could it be? 

“Order for Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Adrien stood. “I’ll get it.”

Honestly, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name. It was a bitter inconvenience, to be sure, but in the end, finding out the blond-haired dude’s name isn’t the objective. The objective was to get rid of Lila, then get Marinette to come back to Dupont. She might be hesitant about it now, which was understandable, but once she sees the changes that he’s gonna make at Dupont, she’ll be more than happy to come back. He simply needed to open her up to the idea again.

Lucky for him, he had a whole lunch date to do just that.

~~~~~~

Lila slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, panting and out of breath. She searched the city streets from left to right, but was only met with the scenery of a regular, Paris afternoon. Where were the screaming fans? The paparazzi? The bodyguards holding everyone back? Did they all disperse already? That post was literally made five minutes ago! How did he run away so fast?

She pulled out her phone to unlock it, watching as her social media popped up again. It was a picture of XY standing next to a downtown café, the very café Lila was standing next to right now.

“Chillin’ at the Café Aroma today!” The post read, but there was no XY in sight. There were hardly even any XY fans here looking for him. Was the post just a ruse to get rid of the paparazzi for a while? Don’t tell her she got up and ran all the way down here for nothing!

Lila let out a groan, slumping against the café. If XY or any of his lackeys bothered to answer their dang cell phones, none of this would’ve happened! Why would they even put out public numbers if they weren’t going to tend to them? It was really a jerk-ish thing to do.

Nevertheless, she still needed to find a way to contact him. XY was the only celebrity in Paris that might be willing to show up at Dupont per her request. Jagged Stone was a close second, but if she brought him to school, Lila was certain Adrien would ask about her stupid, kitten-saving story. Then, Jagged would get all confused and say that he never had a kitten, and Lila would have a lot more explaining to do. That was too much of a hassle for her to deal with. She needed someone she hadn’t lied much about, someone who could also quiet her whining, soul-sucking classmates. Ergo, she needed to find XY.

But where is he? Lila thought, scrolling through her phone for more recent posts. XY clearly wasn’t downtown, meaning he could be just about anywhere in Paris. He could even be outside of Paris. How was she supposed to find him when she had no special contacts to do so? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

And yet.. Marinette managed to find and reign in every celebrity she needed while she was class president. On. Her. Own.

Lila scowled and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Curse that goody-little-two-shoes for making her job harder. Curse her for somehow being perfect at everything and forcing Lila to enhance her lies to compete. Curse her for leaving to another school and making Lila suffer the consequences for it. Why couldn't Marinette have been a normal class president, hm? Why did she have to constantly outdo herself with the grandest of gestures and the most important of people? Why did Lila have to be so stupid as to try and fill an impossible roll? She should have convinced Alya to run for president instead. At least then she wouldn’t be blamed for the sudden budget cuts or the mismatched class trips. She would be able to continue lying in peace and not have to worry about delivering on all of her false promises. In fact, if she weren’t so busy trying to keep up with Marinette’s ‘legacy’, along with her own big mouth, she might have been able to take care of Adrien by now.

Lila heaved a heavy sigh and massaged her temples as she stood up from the café wall. XY wasn’t going to be found anytime soon, so she might as well take a break and grab a coffee before moving forward. Perhaps the caffeine will spark her creativity for a few lies that Adrien can’t dig into should her plan to find XY fail.

She walked over to the café door and pushed it open. The bell attached to the door jingled, reminding her of that incorrigible bakery, but she ignored it and continued inside. A little music toy wasn’t going to get in the way of her espresso.

Her eyes grazed over the room, hoping to find an empty table.

What she found instead, however, made her stomach drop.

There, sitting at a table near the middle of the room, was Adrien Agreste himself, and sitting across from him was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

Lila yelped and ducked back outside, pressing herself firmly against the wall where they couldn’t see her. What were they doing there? What were they doing together?!

Carefully, she crept past the door and slid over to the large window at the front of the café, where she could watch the two from a safe distance. It probably looked suspicious to anyone passing, but she hardly cared at that point. If Adrien and Marinette were getting together like this, Lila was going to have much bigger things to worry about.

She peered through the glass, noting the near-empty plates on their table. They must be having lunch together. Did they do that often? Since when? What could they possibly be talking about?

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adrien’s lips, and Marinette snorted, putting a hand on her mouth to hide her laughter. Ugh, why did she look so cheery! She was supposed to be miserable!

Lila scoffed, digging her fingernails into the brick at the base of the window. What happened to the endless tears and the defeated, sagging posture? What happened to the shriveled up nothing that Lila watched leave the school? Was she really enjoying herself now that she wasn’t attending Dupont? More importantly, how long have Marinette and Adrien been meeting up like this? Was this the reason Adrien suddenly decided to fight back against her? Because he’d rekindled his friendship with Marinette? No wonder the man was out for blood! Marinette probably set him up to the task herself! She must have planned all of this from the very beginning!

No, Lila thought, digging her phone out of her pocket again. She refused to be made a fool of. If they thought they were going to pull one over on her this easily, they were gonna have another thing coming. 

She snapped a photo of them together, making sure to get a moment where they were laughing hard, and tilted the angle of the camera to make it seem like she’d been passing by. Lila then got up and walked back into the café. A picture of Adrien having a grand time with Marinette should be enough of a set up for her to build him a bad reputation, but she needed to know what they were talking about specifically. The more she knew about this meet-up (and previous ones) the better, and if she were anything close to lucky, they would talk about their plans for her while she was there too. That would give her plenty of time to find a way to prepare. 

Or, perhaps, strike first.

As casually as possible, Lila slipped into an empty seat near the pair, not too close, but not too far away that she couldn’t hear them. She then snatched the menu on her table and propped it up so her face couldn’t be seen while she listened.

“Okay, wait. So you’re telling me that they threw an entire Valentine’s Day party at the Mandarin Oriental by themselves?” She heard Adrien ask. He sounded immensely impressed. Who were they talking about?

“Yeah!” Marinette replied, the smile clear in her voice. “They’re parents paid for it, of course, but they arranged everything themselves, including the caterers and reservations. We actually made some of the decorations by hand too.”

“Wow, that sounds like a blast. I bet they all looked great.”

“They did! Especially when we finished the lights and stuff. Everyone loved it.”

Lila scrunched up her nose, equally confused and annoyed. Someone threw a party at the Mandarin Oriental for Valentine’s day? Who? Why was Marinette invited? And why did she get to personally help with the decorations? This wasn’t another one of her “chummy celebrity friends”, was it? It better not be.

Adrien chuckled. “If all of those rich kids at Rosemary enjoyed it, I’m sure it was something.”

Lila froze. Did he just say “all” of the rich kids? Meaning multiple? Why was Marinette hanging out with multiple rich kids? How was she hanging out with multiple rich kids? Were they inviting her to the parties they were throwing? Why? What did she have that was so freaking special? 

Wait a minute. 

Her raging thought finally caught up with the rest of Adrien’s comment, specifically the one about Rosemary. Wasn’t that the stuck-up school near the middle of Paris that was famously known for hosting either incredibly rich or incredibly gifted students? The one that barely let you breathe in their direction if you weren’t considered “worthy”? How did Marinette end up wandering around there long enough to catch some rich friends? No one’s allowed inside except for students or staff, and their policies are extremely strict. (she should know, considering she’s tried to weasel her way in there several times.) The only way she would be able to get inside was if-

Lila gasped, nearly dropping her menu in the process.

No.. No, no way Marinette got transferred from Dupont to Rosemary. That would just be absurd! She didn’t have any money! And she certainly didn’t have enough talent to be accepted despite that! 

But as Lila listened to the conversation more and more, she had to endure the horrible realization that Marinette had, in fact, been transferred to Rosemary. Not only that, she was thriving there. She was making new friends who gave her rides in limos. She was going to fancy restaurants that cost more than Lila’s house for an afternoon snack. She was having slumber parties in mansions. Mansions! Entire estates that were apparently just as big- if not bigger! -than Adrien Agreste’s!

Lila had finally gotten rid of Marinette and won Dupont, only for Marinette to gain the new life that Lila had always dreamed of having! How was that fair? How was any of this fair!

Lila drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t blow her top just yet. Marinette may be winning right now, but once Adrien is out of the way, Lila will make sure that Marinette suffers the way she deserves. Rosemary isn’t going to save her for long.

She pulled out her phone to unlock it and clicked on the messaging app, scrolling down until she found her favorite minion: Alya Cessaire. 

~Hey, you’ll never guess what I just saw!!~ 

Lila smiled as she sent the text. With a message like that, Alya won’t be able to help her curiosity, and when Lila sends the picture of Adrien and Marinette together, the journalist will fall headfirst into a pool of rage. 

In other words, that pampered little rich boy won’t know what hit him.

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

(Hey, everyone! This section isn’t quite part of the story, but it’s going to be part of the updates from now on. Two weeks ago, I visited a Bible camp, and the Lord really spoke to my heart through the messages. So, from now on, I want to make Him the center of my life and glorify Him in everything I do. At first, I thought of not writing anymore fics or chapters, since doing so would really take my focus away from Him, but instead, I decide to start writing little devotions at the end of each chapter I post. That way, you all won’t have to suffer through an incomplete story, and I get to share the wonderful gospel with you all!

The first devotion I want to post is the message of salvation and how you can know that you’re going to Heaven when you die. The Bible (King James Version) says in Romans 3:23 “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” and the first part of Romans 6:23 says “For the wages of sin is death”. We have all had a moment in our lives where we know we’re not supposed to do something, but we do it anyway. That breaking of rules is called a sin, and because of that sin, God says that we are not fit to be in His presence, for He is a just and holy God. So, due to this, our souls are condemned to the fiery prison known as Hell, where it is pitch black around you, and the only thing you can hear is wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth. Your soul will be alight with fire, but your body will never actually burn, so you will be faced with that pain for the rest of eternity. Can you imagine that? Being in that kind of torment forever and ever and ever and knowing that it will never end? I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of pain, and I certainly don’t want any of you to have to endure it. So that’s why I’m telling you now that there is a bright side to all of this!

John 3:16 says “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” and the other part of Romans 6:23 says “but the gift of God is eternal life”. Do you realize what this means? It means we don’t have to go to Hell! God has provided a way of escape for us!

2,021 years ago, God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to die for us. He was a perfect man, with no sin about Him, but he became sin for us and sacrificed himself so that we could be saved. People beat him and mauled him to point beyond recognition, then they nailed him to a cross for him to die. The pain he had to endure was excruciating, but he did it for us, because he loves us.

Then, three days after the Son of God passed away, he arose from the grave with new life! and because of that, we now have a way to join Him in heaven! All we have to do is admit that we are a sinner, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as our Lord and Savior. We must believe on Him, and believe that he died on the cross for us, then we won’t have to go to Hell! It’s that easy! And those who believe on the Lord Jesus not only don’t have to go to Hell, but they also find a new home in Heaven with the very person who created us and loves us so much to the point of sacrificing Himself for our benefit. It’s a win-win scenario!

I know this isn’t a normal thing to do for fics, but this is something extremely important that I need all of you to know. So please, if you read through this, I implore you to get saved and accept Jesus as your savior. What do you have to lose? If you don’t, you’ll be doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering that you can never escape, but if you do, you will be guaranteed a place in paradise, where Jesus will be waiting for you with open arms. Please trust Him with your life and your heart. You know he will keep it safe.

Thank you all for listening to this and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

Tag List:  @sasstrashforlike5fandoms  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07  @derbygracie  @pleaseignorejustheretoread 

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

So this is a personal one for me to ask and if you're not comfortable with it don't mind it; how would the tmnt boys (seperate) react when the reader confesses that they're autistic after the boys got curious when she had some peculiar, behavior or stims. The reader would be stressed, because she has a crush on the tmnt boy in question and she didn't want them to find her weird or just stop interacting with her. When she's met with confusion instead, because the boys never heard of it, cue this weird conversation where reader tells them to the best of her ability what it is and the boys just keep asking questions. Also some general headcannons with it maybe?

Okay so I'm actually really happy that you asked me this because I feel like ASD isn't portrayed a lot in any type of media. My ADD and ASD have a lot of overlap so I hope I can capture what you're asking of me!

Now let's get into it!

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to an autistic reader

Leonardo

he wasn't really sure what was happening the first time you reacted

one minute you were standing next to him doing dishes and the next you were attempting to claw your skin off like an angry cat

Leo tried not to look annoyed as he watched you rub your hands against your shirt until your flesh started to turn red

you looked like you were crying but he knew you weren't

but your face was starting to turn purple and your cheeks were puffy from the effort of holding your breath

"Y/N? You need to breathe."

You shot a glare at him, scathing eyes meeting his now very concerned expression

your own softened and you clutched your arms to your chest, heaving oxygen into your lungs until your face became a normal shade again

"Are you okay?"

The words were stuck in your throat and you weren't sure if you should nod or shake your head

so you gave him a half-hearted shrug

he frowned back at you but turned to finish the dishes on his own

when he questioned you about it later he couldn't help but be curious

"Well actually it's uh- it's kinda a sensory type of thing? There are certain textures that I can't stand touching do I avoid them but if I come into contact by accident my brain just kinda explodes and I shut down."

"How exactly does that work though?"

"I don't really understand it much but like- you know that feeling you get when you think there's a bug on you and there's not but it really really feels like it?"

He nodded

"Yeah, it feels like that. And anytime I touch something that triggers that reaction it takes FOREVER to get the feeling off my skin. That's why I usually wear gloves when I do dishes. Guess I just forgot to grab 'em today."

He was sympathetic

and god, you were so embarrassed

lucky for you, Leo's not an asshole

"Well thank you for explaining it to me, you really freaked me out earlier. I'll talk to April and see if we can keep a pair or two at the lair just in case you forget again."

Consider your heart melted

you couldn't even find the words to thank him and holy shit was your face red

"Hey y/n?"

"Yeah Leo?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me- us that you were autistic?"

Did you rip the band aid off now or make something up? Which would ,technically speaking, be less catastrophic in the long run?

"I uh- I really like you and I really didn't want you or the other's to look at me differently..."

wow, you liked him? miss ma'am you have saved this boy a world of anxiety and damn does he thank you for it

"Thanks for telling me... and y/n? I really like you to."

Awh fuck yeah, best possible execution of band aid-ripping-off ever

Donatello

Donnie wished he could act surprised when you finally told him

he really wanted to, it would've made you feel better for sure

but he sucked at lying and he didn't want to make you feel like he thought you were an idiot

because that was so far from the truth

after going through extensive research on Mikey's behalf when he suspected he had ADHD Donnie had stumbled across many different websites that discussed the symptoms and overlaps between both disorders

to make a long story short, Donnie knew that you had ASD and he was waiting for you to tell him

it would probably come off as rude if he brought it up in conversation right?

he didn't want to risk it

but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on you and your behaviors

he was a man of science, of course he was going to analyze you

not in a weird way or anything, just as a curious sort of precaution

but the longer you were involved in the turtle's lives the more noticeable your stims and meltdowns got, Donnie did his best to cover for you without making you suspicious of him

eventually he'd come up with something that he hoped would come across as a friendly gesture and wouldn't set you off or scare you away

it was game night at the lair and you, as always, were perched on the arm of the sofa, a large grin plastered on your face

inside your head was exploding but you were masking it pretty well if you do say so yourself

but Donnie was, well... donnie was donnie

so when he noticed you starting to rock a little more visibly he removed his attention from commentating the game and grabbed a pair of headphones from the side table

you were beyond confused when he passed them to you but your face revealed everything

"They're noise cancelling, try them on."

holy shit it was like putting your head underwater, everything was muffled

not in the way normal headphones did, you quite literally couldn't hear anything at all, just a calm amount of nothing

you nearly started crying when you realized that Donnie had figured you out on his own

but you'd never been more relieved about anything in your life

Raphael

he wouldn't admit that he was mesmerized by your presence

you practically radiated calm

his complete opposite

it was his favorite thing about you, because despite your quiet disposition and calming aura you weren't afraid to call him out or rebut any of his insults

this was not something you expected him to appreciate nor was it something you thought would make you catch feelings

but damn if you didn't

he'd been sitting in on yours and Donnie's little experiment for an hour or so now, watching you both exchange quiet whispers and inside jokes that you always seemed to lag on

then you slipped up

not bad, nothing detrimental to the project, just the same mistake that you'd already made ten times over

you might as well have exploded

"Y'N, you just have to move thi-"

"I KNOW DONATELLO. I FUCKING KNOW AND I JUST CAN'T DO THIS BULLSHIT!"

you set everything down gently enough to avoid breaking it before turning and storming out of the lab, waving your hands like they were on fire

Raph and Donnie exchanged a look that sent the larger red turtle following after you

when you calmed yourself down enough to talk you kept your gaze locked on the wall, explaining that you couldn't make eye contact when you were upset

he might not be the smartest brother, but Raph's no dummy, he put those pieces together pretty quickly after you told him that one small detail

he wasn't upset that you didn't tell him and you'd personally never been more relieved

your heart nearly splattered into the stratosphere when you finally gace him your own explanation

"yeah, I like ya too."

you grinned so wide you were sure your face would split open and your entire body rocked side to side with excitement

he thought that was pretty adorable too

And he did stick around to offer a bit of support when you apologized to Donnie for screaming at him

Michaelangelo

to be frank it probably shouldn't have taken so long for Mikey to realize that you were autistic

the similarities between your own personality and his ADHD were so in sight it was near painful

it was his turn to make dinner that night and you'd made sure that you came over early to help him set up, you knew how side-tracked he'd get and you were the poster child for solid routine

what more perfect matchup existed?

trick question, there isn't one

you were on one side of the counter cutting vegetables and he was on the other throwing said vegetables into the mixing pot

the music was at an ungodly level of loud so your only means of communication were screaming over it

"MIKEY."

"WHA?"

"YOU GOT THE-"

"YEAH."

"AND THE-"

"UH HUH."

"COOL, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-"

"TONGS? NO, THE SKEWERS. YEAH, THEY'RE IN THE OTHER DRAWER."

"THANKS."

the two of you went about your previous tasks, thinking nothing of the conversation that had just taken place

at least until you'd begun washing your knife and cutting board

that's when Casey walked in, looking both perturbed and annoyed at the same time

"Alright, which one of you knows telepathy?"

Mikey exchanged a glance with you and you returned it with a raised eyebrow

"The hell you mean brah?"

he looked at the both of you like you were the ones that had grown four extra heads before speaking again

"You literally just had a conversation with like five words and somehow just knew what the other meant? What's up with that?"

you glanced at Mikey again

"Holy shit, did we?"

"I mean, not really. You used your hands."

now all three of you were confused but it quickly became two when Casey shook his head in defeat and left the room

"You know I think he's right."

he blinked first and your staring contest ended

"But you used your hands-"

"I got autism Mikey, one does not simply not use their hands as forms of speech."

"You're-"

"Yep."

was the silence laughing at you? could it do that? it was kinda rude

"Huh, that actually makes sense, that's not mean is it?"

you shook your head no

"You're just me but fast."

Mikey agreed with that, pestered you with a few more questions, and went back about working, as did you, you saw no reason to address it further

but your cheeks burned red

"Yo- Y/N that actually explains why everyone else thinks we're a thing."

you didn't know if you could choke on air or not but you did it anyways

"Are we?"

he gave you his signature grin

"If we are then Raph owes April a hundred bucks."

you returned his smile

"Oh this oughta be good."

I'd like to preface this by apologizing for my near three week absence. Life got crazy and my writer's block hopped on a train, went through a school zone, killed seven pedestrians, and committed tax fraud before tumbling off a cliff never to be seen again.

But on the bright side- I got my SAT scores back and started some scholarship applications. Super happy with that. School's out in a few weeks so I'll be able to write more (hopefully).

Anyways, I hope I got this one down okay. I may have hyper analyzed the request so I might be a little off. But I really enjoyed doing this one and I hope you like it!

-Mars 🌠

[theparanormalperiodical]

What The Hell Is Satanism? The Backstory, The Beliefs, And The A-To-Z On Devil Worshippers

4 days ago, Nike decided to sue a small indie art collective based in New York.

This isn’t news. This isn’t the first time a profit-mongering fashion-giant has targeted businesses trying to make a name for themselves. And it won’t be the last.

But this time, there’s probably something else influencing the executives reclining on their plush leather seats: they said it was because MSCHF stamped on the Nike Swoosh. But we all know what the real problem was:

These kicks were soaked with Satanic imagery - oh, and a single drop of human blood.

"MSCHF and its unauthorised Satan Shoes are likely to cause confusion and dilution and create an erroneous association between MSCHF's products and Nike”

Translation: no, we don’t want to be associated with devil worshippers.

Satan and his followers have once again hit the press following Lil Nas X’s latest viral YouTube hit and release of his custom footwear. And he does the belief system - and the LGBTQA+ community - justice.

But Satanism goes much deeper than pole dancing your way to hell.

It goes deeper than the fears of your evangelical aunt, it goes deeper than the rumours of a sacrificial ritual that happened in the woods outside of town, and it goes deeper than QAnon conspiracy theories.

Today we explore what Satanism really is. And what it really isn’t.

*twerks towards hell*

What Is Satanism?

Satanism is a group of modern religions that are centred around Satan, an entity in Abrahamic religions (e.g. Christianity and Judaism) that rebelled against God, has power over Hell and demons, and seduces humans into sin. Satan features in a vast number of major religions: he started off in Zoroastrianism, then making his way to Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. But the modern followers of Satanism are inspired by the Christian fallen angel and ruler of hell.

A large proportion of Satanists follow atheistic Satanism - they don’t necessarily believe in an entity but follow a philosophy that focuses on individualism and satisfying the ego, or rebel specifically against the dominance of Christianity in Western society.

Although Satan is typically considered the embodiment of evil, most strands of Satanism are not. However, there are some groups that fit this mould like the Order of the Nine Angles: they’re neo-Nazis.

The actual worship of Satanism only began just over 50 years ago, in 1966. But the use of the term ‘Satanist’ stretches back centuries further. Calling someone a ‘Satanist’ (or something to that effect) was an insult reserved for those that disagreed with a Christian group’s beliefs.

A Not-very-brief-but-look-I-tried-ok History Of Satanism

Here’s the thing about Satanism: at one point in history, every religious group was deemed Satanist. 

You see, that’s how it all started.

Even the term ‘Satan’ originally meant ‘adversary’. It didn’t necessarily refer to a horned, evil ex-angel once scorned by the Almighty. It meant ‘other’; it was just an insult. It wasn’t created by groups of men draped in blood red robes preparing to slaughter a virgin to their ungodly master - Satanism was actually created by Christians.

The word ‘Satanism’ was first recorded in French and English literature back in the 16th century. Against the backdrop of the Reformation (when the Western Christian Church split off into Protestantism, Catholicism, and other more niche shards) rival religious groups would label each other with such terms frequently in various tracts and texts.

It was not to say that Protestants, for example, were actively worshipping Satan but were instead deviating from what Catholics thought was true Christianity. By ‘incorrectly’ serving God, they were supporting Satan’s claim to ruin the world with sin and evil.

*Disney villain laugh*

In the 19th century it broadened to encompass anyone that lived an immoral lifestyle and was thus serving Satan’s will. But in this same century it evolved yet again.

Yep, it’s time to introduce the actual Satanists: texts began to emerge that mention people that revered and worshipped Satan. It took a long 300 years for Satanists to reclaim their title. But the story doesn’t end here: this is a really important theme that runs like blood through the history of Satanism. Or, rather, the history of religious prejudice and persecution.

Throughout, well, all of human history, we have been swept up unto the belief that there is a dark, evil force lurking within our communities. The most recent example claims Joe Biden and his Democrat friends are Satan-worshipping baby-eating America-hating pedophiles. The fears of a discrete force that can hide at will fits the descriptors of the Judeo-Christian devil. And so, it had been applied to persecuted groups for centuries.

The Witch Trials and the Spanish Inquisition are the most famous examples of this. Satanism evolved in the Medieval era to scapegoat certain groups or to reinforce social norms by emphasising the apparently very real fight between good and evil.

Narratives of the French Revolution at the time were contorted with rumours of revolutionaries being part of a secret Satanic conspiracy. This revolution struck a blow to the power of the Catholic church, and some fingers pointed towards the dark lord of hell himself. Some even believed these revolutionaries had amassed supernatural powers to curse people and shape-shift into various creature ‘n’ critters like cats or fleas!

In the 20th century, another historical shift took place. And this time it (supposedly) happened from within the secret societies themselves: non-fiction authors and tabloids began to recount the allegations of people who once claimed to have been part of Satanic groups before converting to Christianity.

Doreen Irvine claimed she was given the ability to levitate amongst other witchy-powers. But Irvine’s claims sent shockwaves across the pond in the US. Much more horrific allegations were about to take centre stage. In the 1980s this would reach its climax with the Satanic Panic:

Also known as the Satanism Scare, the book Michelle Remembers (1980) detailed the alleged repressed memories of a psychiatrist’s patient which claimed they had been abused as a child for Satanic rituals. In these rituals, babies would be sacrificed and Satan would appear.

Reports of sexual child abuse for these rituals - known as Satanic Ritual Abuse - proliferated until the 1983 case made against the McMartin family. The McMartins owned a preschool in California and were allegedly sexually abusing the children in their care for ritualistic purposes. A lengthy trial ensued and the McMartins were eventually cleared of all charges.

But it was too late.

An evangelical anti-Satanism movement emerged claiming no children would lie about such claims and therefore all accused must be guilty. A conspiracy theory similar to those before emerged claiming SRA was rampant across the US, but it lost momentum by the turn of the 90s. Various investigations by the FBI and British government looked into SRA but found no evidence of Satanism or rituals in any cases of child abuse. Some lone cases of pedophiles did involve rituals, but these were isolated events that never involved Satanist groups.

The 7 Types Of Satanism

Satanism is an umbrella term to describe a vast array of religious groups. There’s a swirling sea of beliefs from the philosophical Satanists that don’t actually believe in Satan to the minority groups that are willing to sacrifice humans in the name of worshipping their god.

However, this ocean does share a common focus on individualism, self-perception, and non-conformity - traditional traits associated with the devil.

There are 3 forms of Satanism: reactive (attempts to invert Christianity and celebrates rebellion), rationalist (atheist and materialistic beliefs), and esoteric (actually worships Satan and draws upon religions like Paganism and western Esotericism).

The Church of Satan kick-started modern Satanism. Erected in 1966, Anton LaVey promoted an atheistic philosophy that focused on indulgence and an ‘eye for an eye’ ethical code that celebrated mankind as animals in an amoral world. Hate and aggression were not wrong but were advantageous for one’s survival. Yes, the seven deadly sins were actually beneficial for the individual.

The First Satanic Church was founded on Halloween night in 1999 by the daughter of Anton LaVey after his church was taken over by a new administration that Karla deemed against her father’s work.

The Satanic Temple is an atheist-activist group that stages political ‘pranks’ that rebel against the political and social dominance of Christianity. They aim to showcase religious hypocrisy in stunts such as performing a ‘Pink Mass’ over the grave of a Westboro Baptist Church goer (known for their explicit and offensive signs). They use Satan as a metaphor to rebel against a society that restricts personal autonomy and curiosity.

Luciferianism is a belief system that pivots around the characteristics associated with Lucifer. Followers believe Lucifer is the illuminated aspect of Satan, thus considering themselves Satanists. But some believe he is a more positive force than Satan. They follow the ancient myths of Egypt, Rome, and western Occultism. They consider him the true god - a destroyer but also a ‘light-bringer’ to the world.

The Temple of Set does not necessarily revere Satan by instead a being they call Set. Satan was the corrupted name of set, an entity that is the one true god. It gave humanity intellectual abilities to separate it from animals and they believe in a Setian philosophy with self-deification as the aim of all humanity.

The Order of the Nine Angles was inspired by ancient Pagan groups resident in Shropshire in the late 60s. But the founder of the group, Anton Long, is considered the pseudonym of neo-Nazi David Myatt. They encourage human sacrifice as a part of rituals and several members have joined the police and the military to do this without getting caught. The ONA is linked to several rapes, murders, cases of child abuse, and right-wing terrorism. They are also connected to several neo-nazi terror organisations.

The Joy Of Satan - contrary to its name - ain’t joyful. It’s an Occultist group that combines Satanism, Paganism, and UFO conspiracy theories. Just like the ONA, they’re Nazis. They believe Satan is one of many demonic deities which are powerful humanoid extraterrestrial beings which are equated with ancient gods. They believe Satan created humanity and brought us knowledge.

Reactivism isn’t a form of Satanism that is followed by an organised group but rather practiced on a personal, isolated level. It is considered an anti-social means of rebelling in a society dominated by Christianity. Most reactive Satanists are adolescents, mentally-disturbed, and have taken part in criminal activity associated with Satanic rituals they discovered through personal learning.

For example, in the 1970s two groups of teenagers in LA and Big Sur killed 3 people and ate parts of their corpses as a part of rituals devoted to Satan. Plotted murder and cannibalism are common traits of reactive Satanist crimes.

The A-To-Z Of Devil Worship

Baphomet

A deity that the Knights Templar allegedly worshipped. It is associated with the Sabbatic Goat which represents the equilibrium of opposites (half-man and half-goat, male and female, good and evil).

Black Mass

It is traditionally known as a requiem mass (funeral mass) in the Roman Catholic church from which the celebrants wear black clothes. However, it has been appropriated by Satanic cults. It often involves a naked woman as an altar and is the site of various Satanic magical rituals.

Cutter vs Wilkinson

A Supreme Court case which claimed federal funds cannot deny prisoners accommodations that are needed to engage in religious practices. Five residents of an Ohio prison including a member of a white supremacist Christian church, a Wiccan, and a Satanist filed the suit, claiming the officials failed to accommodate their ‘nonmainstream’ religions.

Devil

The personification of evil which shows up in many different religions. It is Satan in Abrahamic texts.

Demon

A supernatural entity often associated with evil. The original Greek word - daimon - did not have negative connotations.

Demonology

The study of demons.

Demonolatry

The worship of demons.

Goats

Satanism is always associated with goats. But why? There are several reasons: Baphomet is half-man, half-goat; the ‘infernal goat’ is depicted in many witches’ sabbats; Pagan traditions involved horned gods Christian forces deemed devilish; and the tarot card depicting the devil is a goat. In 1966, the church of Satan adopted baphomet as the sigil.

Lucifer

The name of mythological and religious figures associated with Venus. It is associated in the Christian tradition with Satan as he supposedly fell from heaven. Often called ‘the morning star’ or described as ‘light bringing’.  

Stanislaw Przybyszewski

The first guy to promote a Satanic philosophy.

What do you think?

Let me know in a comment below! And while you’re there, make sure you like and reblog this article.

Want to read an article on the paranormal every Saturday? And a real ghost story everyday/whenever I’m bothered? Hit follow!

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right?

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Stop the World, I Wanna . . . - Artic Monkeys

Space Song - Beach House

May 16, 2002.

New York City, New York.

“[y/n] . . .” Claire whispered. “Honey, c’mon . . . just, try to sit up.”

You couldn’t. You just, couldn’t. It was as if your entire body was filled to the brink with sand — coarse, wet, heavy sand — and it was weighing you down, keeping you anchored to Claire’s bed. Your head rested in her lap, and your fist gripped, tightly, onto the fabric of her jeans — which were stained with your tears. Her hand ran along your spine, and her arm wrapped around you, protectively. She wanted to shield you, she wanted to keep you safe, happy. She wanted to distract you from your luggage laid out on the floor.

But, the pressure of her body, coddling you, God, it just hurt. Everything hurt, and you couldn’t get it to stop, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, ugly sobbing, snot running down your lips.

“Cl—Claire . . .” you whined. “I . . . I . . .” your hand flew to your mouth, muffling a loud and painful sob that echoed throughout the room.

“I know, I know . . .” she cooed, kissed the top of your head, and ran her hand over your hair. “It’s okay, don’t try to talk, just rest.”

Claire held you, all day and all night on May 16, 2002. She held you until you lost your voice, until you cried yourself to sleep, and after that, she still held you.

Because it was May 16, 2002.

And May 16, 2002 was day one without Matthew Gubler.

After crying yourself to sleep that morning, you awoke alone in Claire’s bedroom that night. You rubbed your tired and sore eyes, and sat up, surprised to see the sun had gone down. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was sore. Claire had left you a bottle of water, and you chugged it in one gulp. You stood from the bed, slowly and groggily, stumbling your way through the boxes of clothes, and decorations that Claire hadn’t even put up yet.

You wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, and switched on the light. You didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Only a faint resemblance of what you looked like that morning, before the airport, before the tears.

You had dressed up. Did your makeup. And now, your clothes were wrinkled, and your face was smeared with mascara. You looked miserable, you felt miserable, you were miserable.

Claire walked in just as another tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at her reflection, and saw she was eyeing you, sadly.

“Hey,” she attempted to smile. She stepped over to you and held onto your shoulders, catching you as you fell back, dramatically, into her arms.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispered. You hiccuped as you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her. “It’s just day one . . .” she said. “It’s just . . . day one.”

And it’s true, what everyone says: one day turns into one month, and one month turns into one year.

And one year turns into one decade.

October 13, 2017.

New York City, New York.

Today, is Friday the thirteenth.

Day 5,629 without Matthew Gubler.

And somehow, someway, you feel just as stuck, and frozen, and scared shitless as you did on day one.

You haven’t felt this way in a very long time, though. And of all the days, of all the nights, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

A knock rings at the dressing room door, startling you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, and found yourself, once again, focused on your reflection.

You know this person. You’ve spent 5,629 days growing into this person. And y’know what? She’s fucking hot.

“[y/n]!” Another knock follows.

“I’m coming!”

“When?”

“Ramona, I will fire you, and trust me, I really need an assistant!” You shout, fixing your dress in the mirror once again.

“Oh, yeah, right. Then who would make your coffee and make sure you’re on time?” she replied. “. . . You’re late!”

“Okay!” You stumbled to the door in your heels, flung it open, putting your hand on your hip.

“Wow . . .” Ramona said, nearly speechless. “You look . . . hot.”

“That is not how you speak to your boss, dude,” you laughed. “You really think I look hot?”

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kind of hot.” She winks.

You chuckle, “Thanks, I needed that. Walk with me.”

“Okay, um,” she starts, walking beside you as you strut down the hall. “Hair and makeup are gonna take care of you in no less than thirty minutes, that gives you, approximately, two minutes to get into the studio.”

“Two minutes?” You stop in your tracks. “That’s it?”

She can’t help but grin, just a little, “Told you you were late.”

You scoffed, “Okay, so are we shooting when I step into the studio?”

“Yep!”

“Great . . .” you sigh, walking over to the cosmetic chair.

“But, hey, you’re the big boss, they can’t film without you.”

“Yeah, except big boss told everyone we’re filming at seven sharp, and big boss probably won’t even be ready at seven sharp!” You ramble.

“Okay . . .” Ramona nods, slowly. “Are ever gonna tell me why you’re so nervous about tonight, or . . ?”

“Uh, why am I nervous about a major, televised, celebrity event that I not only put together myself, but choreographed?” You rambled. “I don’t know, pick a reason!”

“Wow . . .” She says. “As valid as all those reasons are, I think something else is going on and I will find out, so you might as well spill.”

“Can’t talk!” You pip. “Getting my makeup done! Tell them I’ll be in at seven.”

You exhaled deeply the minute Ramona stepped away, closing your eyes. Not opening them until your hair was done perfectly, and the makeup artist added her final touches.

You, once again, came face to face with your reflection.

“[y/n]!”

But you didn’t have time to process it.

“[y/n], cameras are rolling, thirty seconds to seven.”

Of all the days, of all the nights, you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

“[y/n]!”

Because you are the big boss now.

Your purple dress — perfectly matched to the NYU logo — hugs your body tightly as you walk across the floor, the hem splayed over feet, which are covered in tall, silver heels. The clack of your shoes silences everyone as you walk by. Everyone, except for Ramona, who steps in before you can enter the studio.

She clips an NYU pin to your dress, “For good luck,” she smiles.

“3, 2, 1 . . . rolling.”

You enter the studio, and the room fills with a flood of “oooooh!” from each and every one of your students. The camera pans over their faces as you walk across the hardwood floor, smiling at them, laughing at their expressions. Their jaws are dropped, hands clutched over their chests.

“[y/n]! Holy shit!”

“Hey!” You laugh. “Language! We’re rolling!”

“You look great!”

“Thank you, how are you all?” You ask.

“Nervous, thanks for asking.” They all laugh.

“You guys will be fine, I’m an excellent teacher,” you giggle.

“Damn right, but are you sure you can’t hold our hands while we’re on stage? Just for a little bit?”

“Big babies!” You shake your head. “You’re ready. Signals from off camera indicated a time crunch, and you quickly brought the group together for a big hug.

It’s been a long time coming. Tonight. Or, as printed on all invitations and promotional materials:

New York University’s 2017 Celebrity Alumni Event: In Support of the Ballet class of 2017.

Coordinated and Choreographed by [y/n] [y/l/n], executive producer and star of the hit reality show, New York Best and Ballet.

Big boss.

The camera follows you as you exit the studio, walk down the hall, “They’re gonna kill it,” you smile into the lense. “I know it.”

All you can think about is the blatant, gross hypocrisy. The way you’re completely, beyond a shadow of doubt, confident in your students and their ability to pull this off.

And you can’t even say the same thing about yourself.

With the cameras off of you, you put your hand against the wall, and steady yourself. Ramona walks up to you, walking along your side. “Got you a water, you should stay hydrated tonight.”

You give her an appreciative look, taking the bottle of water and standing up straight, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“I guess not, guests are starting to arrive.”

“Holy shit, already?” You gasp.

“You did plan this thing, right?”

“Ugh,” you huff, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“You’re expected in the ballroom, a margarita will be waiting for you at the bar.” Ramona grins.

You continue down the hallway, as she watches you walk away, a crew of people following behind you.

“[y/n]!” Ramona calls.

You turn to her, stopping in your steps.

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kinda hot,” she smiles.

You laugh, out loud, and give her a nod. Then, you continue on your way downstairs.

More people had already arrived than you thought. The ballroom was packed, covered by a sea of people, tables, cameras and crew meandering through the crowd to catch every ounce of footage they could. You were filmed as you walked down the steps, passing the stage and stepping onto the floor with a grand smile.

“Pretty good turn out, huh?” You chuckled, beaming at the camera as you branch out to greet your guests.

This helps.

The smiles, the laughs, the presence of people that support you and your program enough to show up, pay a lot of money, and witness the magic of NYU ballet in all its glory. The light highlights the brightness of your smile, the glow around you in your element. Your chuckle echoing around the room, as you coasted from table to table, person to person, thanking them for coming.

Reconnections were made, stories were told, and retold, and thoughts of college had you blushing on the spot. You’re so lost in the whirlwind of energy, of being the proper hostess, and managing everything in sight, you didn’t notice that an hour had passed.

Until a crew member taps you on the shoulder, and tells you it’s five minutes to show time.

“Excuse me,” you nod, removing yourself from your current conversation and heading backstage.

You blow kisses to the band of nervous students, give them two thumbs up as cameras trailed behind you. “And . . . you’re on, [y/n].”

You stand up straight, hand your margarita off to a crew member, take in a deep breath. And walk. You march up to the podium, the bright lights beating down on you as you stand in front of the large crowd.

“Hello, everybody, welcome!” You announce, bringing the room to a gentle silence. “Thank you all so much for being here. I’m [y/n] [y/l/n], director and head of the ballet department here at New York University.”

You become flustered at the wave of applause, cheering the crowd and backstage. “Thank you, thank you so much. As a NYU alumni, there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to teach this extraordinary class of students. They’re focused, they’re determined, incredibly talented, and the best of the best. So, without further ado, I present to you the NYU ballet class of 2017, presenting a remastered rendition of their first performance in 2014.”

You exited the stage, the curtain behind you shielding the students that were already positioned in place. You stood backstage, watching them on screen, with your hands bound against your chest. The curtain was drawn, the music kicked up, and they went.

They move effortlessly, dare you say it . . . perfectly. In sync, and with a wide range of motion that rolled without a hitch. The crowd watched in awe, and you were right there along with them. Cameras focus on your face as you’re entranced by the class, and so immensely proud.

“They’re incredible,” you beam. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The full set took about half an hour, and when the curtain flies down, closing dramatically, you jump up and down, and run over to the group of kids who couldn’t wait to see you. The joy can be felt through the lense of every camera trained on you.

Their energy and excitement is putting you on cloud nine. Your own adrenaline is rushing, and pumping in your ears.

You let your guard down. You hand out kisses and hugs left and right, and step back in the crowd on a high, head empty, no thoughts. No feelings except for happiness and pride.

“That was incredible, [y/n], absolutely incredible.”

“Wonderful show!”

You were saying thank you faster than you could hear the accolades, caught in a rush of people passing you by.

You turn to see your students trailing behind you, shaking hands as they’re showered in praise. You grin at them, entirely consumed with elation by their looks of satisfaction, of relief, of relaxation and accomplishment.

You let your guard down.

You got comfortable.

“[y/n]!”

You let yourself slip.

“[y/n], [y/n]!” A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn around, a smile still plastered across your face.

“You know Matthew, right?” Your co-producer asked. “You guys graduated the same year?”

You nearly collide with him. You stop on the toe of your heels, and come to a screeching halt. Your eyes connect like magnets, the pull is strong and intense. Your breath catches in your throat, you smile fading along with your breath. You instantly begin to sweat under the light of the cameras, your skin heating up, your hands shaking.

“U—u—uh,” you stutter. “Yes! Hi!”

“Hi, [y/n]!” He exclaims, happily, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

And he smells, so good. He’s grown, and it feels different holding his tall frame in your arms. But the embrace is quick, and brief, and he holds your shoulders in his palms as he speaks to you, “The show was amazing, blew me away!”

You’re expected to talk. You’re expected to breathe. But you’re left speechless by the scruff lining his jaw, the curl atop his head, the suit shaping his body, and topped off with a jet black bow tie.

“Thank you, thank you,” you ramble. “Thanks for coming, um, let’s catch up later,” you nod, to which he politely nods back, and clears a path for you to walk on by.

You let your guard down.

And now you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Your feet were killing you by the end of the night. You didn’t get to take a proper seat — without the cameras, and the crew, and the crowd, until nearly ten o’clock at night. As you were trying to regroup, Ramona found you hiding away in your dressing room, halfway asleep.

“[y/n]?” she taps your shoulder. You groggily lift your head, and look to her, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. It can take you home or to the hotel across the street. What do you think?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Hotel. Hotel is fine.”

The Lillian Hotel had been acquired specifically for tonight’s event. A cozy room, with an even cozier bed was waiting for you, calling your name. And after tonight, after day 5,629, it’s all you can think about.

You give Ramona a quick hug, and thank her for everything before you sneak out of the building. You take the back exit, avoiding an entanglement of people and paparazzi.

The atmosphere of the elegant hotel was much calmer. You were given the key to your room, and you turned on your heels to head to the elevators. Your shoes created an echo against the tile, and the sound suddenly silenced when you saw him. Waiting for the elevator.

“Matthew?” You call, timidly. The courage comes out of nowhere, flies out of your chest before you can catch it in your throat.

He stops in his tracks, and turns to you, holding the strap of his bag. “Hey!” he grins.

You give him a shy smile, as you let out a dry laugh and step closer to him.

His eyes darken, not noticeably, but just a little. He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and all you can say is . . .

“Matthew . . .” you clear your throat. “Thank you for coming tonight, and supporting the program, and for . . . being so professional about everything, I know it . . . couldn’t have been easy, I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrows furrow, only for a second, and his face almost goes blank. He looks down at his shoes, taps his foot as his mind swirls with words to say. But all he can is chuckle. Laugh.

“I knew you were gonna do this,” he says.

You tilt your head, “Do what?”

“This . . . think . . . think that what I did today had anything to do with you.”

“I—“ you stutter. “Okay . . .”

“I came tonight to see friends, to catch up, to visit New York. And I knew I would see you, and I knew . . . I knew you’d, I don’t know, expect me to fall to my knees the second I saw you. I can’t do that . . . I, personally, see no reason to do that. I acted professional, because I am professional, not to cushion your feelings.”

And although, he’s changed, he’s grown, he’s matured, and he’s a completely different person than when you saw him last, Matthew Gubler still knows how to make a dramatic exit.

He turns away from you and continues down the hall, boarding the elevator without looking back at you. You — who’s paralyzed, stuck, scared shitless. Standing in the foyer of the hotel lobby, wondering why you’re unable to move, to breathe, to keep your eyes from misting.

And back to day zero.

You knew for sure that you’d struggle to sleep. That Matthew’s word would eat at your gut and brain like a parasite, haunting you, rattling around your head. But, the second your head hits the pillow, you were out like a light.

And you dreamt of him instead.

The way he was 15 years ago.

The way he made you feel.

Bing, bing, bing!

“Huh!” You jolt awake, spasming out of your sleep violently. Suddenly, the sun had risen again, and it was burning your eyes through the windows.

Bing, bing, bing!

“What the—“ You sit up, rub your face, and anxiously search for your phone, wondering why you were being called so early in the morning.

Ramona’s name flashed upon the screen, and you swiped to accept her call. “Hello?”

“[y/n] . . .”

“Ramona . . .” you slur.

“Have you checked twitter this morning?”

“Tw — no? No, it’s . . . seven in the morning, of course I haven’t checked Twitter.”

“Check it.”

“Ra—“

“Check it!” She shouts.

You groan, and navigate to the Twitter app. “Oh . . . oh, I’m trending . . . that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, check who you’re trending with . . .”

“Okay . . .”

Clicking on your name, you instantly sat forward, your eyes going wide, “NO!”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

[snowlily95]

Aerith in light of healthcare provider

So, I've wanted to write an analysis about Aerith in light of her medical viewpoint for quite a long time but only recently got the chance to complete it. It is well known in the game that Aerith is the healer of the story. She possesses a great MP with a limit break to heal and buff people which greatly affects your gameplay. Of course, you can equip others with Healing and Prayer materias to render them useful for healing as well. But story-wise, no one can take away Aerith's status as the healer. We know in canon that Aerith provided herbs to the Sector 5 slums doctor to create medicine. And if you finished the Corneo Stash side quest in Chapter 14, you can return to the church and see a couple of elderly sitting on the pew praying. And when you come closer to them you'll hear them talking about how they didn't see Aerith around and they're sure she's alright and probably be around healing people. You know, since the Sector 7 plate just fell. (Even though Aerith is not alright actually coz she was kidnapped by Shinra by this time) Point is, we are fed by the NPCs on how much Aerith had helped around as a healer. She had been doing this for years.

While being in denial about who she actually is, being a healer had always been implanted in her. She is used to it. When you're used to being a healer, there's a certain level when you have a different reaction compared to others. The way you think is different. Apart from that, she's also a Cetra. And we knew for a fact Cetra had a certain affinity towards souls who are returning to the Planet. Meaning, as much as she is used to healing others, she's also used to sensing death.

My whole point is that being a Cardiac Anaesthesiologist and Intensivist as I am, I can totally relate my position with Aerith, as we both have constantly helped people and encounter death on daily basis. While I'm pretty confident that the majority of these might be coincidences (because I'm pretty sure there are no doctors in the SE team), I thought the coincidences are pretty cool to ponder upon and I'm amazed at how the subtle differences between Aerith's reaction to events from other characters.

I'm gonna ignore the meta part of Aerith, mainly because I'm not discussing how much Aerith knew, and if there was anything in jeopardy of what she knew whatsoever. So we're gonna focus on the fact that she is used to healing and feeling people's death. People who are used to death on daily basis had a certain unique view on life and death. And that affects how we act upon facing them too. While this is evident throughout Remake, I'm gonna focus on the plate drop event to be more concise. I will also use Tifa as a comparison to make it easier to see the difference between the reaction of the two. Let’s start!

1) Aerith is quick in emergency situations.

When you are used to people dying, you developed a certain immunity and you are able to have a sound mind and composure at the sudden change of event. As healthcare providers, we face stable situations turning into critical real fast. And we have a switch in our minds that turns us from standby mode to rescue mode. This is exactly what happened to Aerith when Don Corneo revealed Shinra's plan to blow up Sector 7's support pillar. Tifa is part of Sector 7. It is her home. Which is why her reaction showed how she was super devastated, she slowly stood up and muttered "They wouldn't..." because she couldn't believe it. Aerith? She had that switch in her mind, and she immediately turned and say "Come on, guys! We gotta go!". She switched into that critical mode in a second. It helps that she's also not personally connected to Sector 7, and thus her judgment was not as impaired. Of course, they both switched into the critical mode in the sewer, but it was at the moment of revelation that made it different. Just like how healthcare providers switched at the moment of revelation that their patients are at the brink of death—you immediately jumped into rescue mode.

2) She plans for the worst.

Remember after they defeated Abzu and Tifa started to question Corneo's information? She didn't want to believe it, because it didn't make sense to destroy your years of efforts building the plate just to get back to a small group like AVALANCHE. Think about the money they put in to build it, they're gonna have to put them all again. In fact, along their way out of the sewer, Tifa voiced out multiple times how this had been bothering her. But I'm intrigued with Aerith's reply "If he's telling the truth, then we should go. And if it turns out he was lying, then so what?". This here is exactly what doctors do. We plan and prepare for the worst. And if the worst didn't happen, then so what? If you ever had life-saving surgery, your doctors would tell you "You need this surgery coz you might die. But if you do the surgery, there's a high chance you'll survive, but there's a small chance you'll die too". And we prepare for that small chance that our patients die. No, we don't let our preparations lacking because we hope they'll survive. We prepare for the worst outcome possible and get all the equipment ready in case they'll die. If they didn't, then so what? It doesn't mean our preparations were futile efforts. It only means we were prepared. And that line of Aerith seriously hits home to me.

3) She hopes for the best.

Before they crossed the water sewer, Tifa once again voiced out how she couldn't stop thinking about what Corneo said, and she was still hoping that he was lying. And then Aerith said, "The future isn't set in stone". (Again, I'm gonna ignore the meta part of Aerith) And then she proceeded to set up that small date with Tifa. Believe it or not, this is actually what we do during bad calls. We'd talk about what we would do after all this ends; we'd go out dining, or playing games/darts, or go drinking, or whatever it is that makes us happy. Just to keep our minds calm and to allow us to hope for the future, even if it's just a few hours away. It gives us hope and courage to go on. We plan for the worst, but we hope for the best. The more critical the situation is, the more you need to be level-headed. And needless to say, after this point onwards, Tifa is much more calmed down from her struggle to keep herself focus.

4) She follows orders.

This might sound weird to some, but the ability to cast away your worry and focus on what you can do, instead of what you should do, is important in emergency situations. You need to know what you don't know. You don't get in the way of your comrades. If you're not good at intubating, you don't insist to intubate in emergency situations just because you wanna help. Seriously, you'll just make things worse. When Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith were attacked before climbing up and out of the sewer, Cloud asked both Tifa and Aerith to keep going. Aerith immediately answers "Okay" and left—without a single but. This is significant because it shows that Aerith knew she'd be better off leaving. She doesn't need to offer help, coz her help was not needed. This is not the place where she could help. The ability to recognize this is very important for healthcare professionals. Tifa was a bit more reluctant to leave, but that's probably because she is a martial artist in-game. Also, the fact that Aerith could still joke "We're not delicious" is just so real lol! Yup, we joke sometimes when we're facing deaths—doesn't mean we lose focus in saving the dying person in front of us, don't worry. And then it happens again when they reached Sector 7 when Cloud asked them to stay with Wedge as he goes up, Aerith immediately answered "sure"—because she can "patch" Wedge up, it's where her abilities lie. This is even more accentuated when an injured Wedge argued that he can still fight when he clearly can't—making this point even more obvious. Aerith is someone with a healthcare mind, Wedge was not.

5) She supports her comrades emotionally even when she’s worried too.

When they reached the surface, they spotted a Shinra helicopter. Cloud assured them they're only on patrol. Aerith turned to Tifa and said, "Don't worry, we'll make it in time". This moment is also very iconic to me. As I mentioned, I'm an anaesthesiologist. We are the support doctors to surgeons and physicians. Those moments when we're operating on AAA surgeries and the patient is losing liters of blood and literally dying, we're pumping bloods in with our hands and get those Level 1 machines operating, and the surgeons would be panicking because it keeps bleeding? Yep, I did say it before. "We'll make it. Just concentrate on the surgery and don't worry about the bleeding", even though I'm sweating and dying here trying to keep the patient alive. But I pretended to be calm in front of my team and cheered them on. Because the whole team needs to keep calm. If one of the team loses hope, then bid your chance farewell. As an anaesthesiologist, we're almost like the anchor in the room. People look at us to know if everything's alright. I need to tell them it's alright, so they need not worry. Aerith knew Tifa is worried. And she tried to keep Tifa calm with reassurance. Even if she probably freaked out herself.

6) She doesn’t discriminate.

After they defeated the ghost at the haunted maintenance facility, Cloud tried to kill it, and Aerith didn't let him. When Cloud said that thing was dangerous, Aerith said she knows and added "but even so..." she didn't feel right about killing it. (Let's ignore the fact that the Ghoul was a lonely creature for now) It then goes to drop the train wreck which almost killed them had it not been for Cloud. Now this would have been avoided had Aerith let Cloud killed it—maybe. But here's the thing. When you're hyper-aware that people are dying left and right, you value life more. No one deserves to die, even the worst criminal in the world. You're a law-abiding citizen? You're a criminal? It doesn't make a difference to us. I know this is something super hard to comprehend. But technically only when the law subjects the criminal to the death sentence that a person should be left to die. I've been a doctor for eleven years, I was a prison doctor for two. I had the first-hand experience of dealing with criminals. It's not my job to determine whether they deserve to die or not. It's not my call whether they will turn a new leaf had they lived. I know this is something others find difficult to relate to and agree with—happens to my non-medical family and friends. The verdict to us is simple. It's a life. It's worth saving. Period. (Technically the ghosts are dead though but my point still stands)

7) She tries to her best abilities and lets go of what is out of her control.

Tifa's emotions are tampered with again when they confirmed Shinra was going to drop the plate when they overheard the Turks conversation. Her voice shook, we can literally hear it. Aerith's response was "all we can do now is keep moving". And she's right. When they reached Sector 7 and the Whispers were preventing them, she said "we have to get past whatever it takes". And later on, Tifa left to help Cloud and Barret, and Aerith agreed to get to Seventh Heaven to ensure Marlene's safety. Wedge had a short mental breakdown when he realized he was no good to anyone up or down the crime scene. And Aerith told him "We can still save a lot of lives", "That's no excuse to give up", "I need to know I did everything I could". Her encouragement helped Wedge save more people. Some argued, did she not care about the lives that already died? Now here's my point; no, we don't. Sorry if this sounds harsh, but really. What can we do for people who are already dead? Nothing. What can we do for people who are still alive? Everything. And this is the core of being a healthcare provider—we prioritize. Yes, we're also humans. We can get emotional when our own friends and relatives die. (Aerith might not be as calm had it happened at Sector 5) But when we put the healthcare provider cap on, we mean business. That is why when disasters happened, and we triage people with a black tag? That's when we know we couldn't do anything for them. We don't mourn at the black tags. We move on to the other tags instead. So that we know we already did everything in our power to help. And yes, it doesn't matter even if we lost more lives than we saved. It's worth it, even if we only saved one person out of thousands of deaths. Just like how Aerith saved Betty in Sector 7. That one life is worth it.

[willow-tree-writes]

❀Bet {2}❀

JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: The good girl goes on a date with the bad boy and actually enjoys it. So that leads to a few more dates. A few stolen kisses. A few introductions to knew people. The catch? You might realize it sooner than later...

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for all the support you guys gave me on the first part! I did not think it was going to do as well as it did. I got this out a lot sooner than I thought I would.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing

Part 1

!I don’t own this gif!

“I think this is really cute.”

You laughed a little, looking at the sundress. “Of course you’d pick that, Mom.”

She gave you a look. “Tell me it’s ugly and I’ll put it back.” 

“You know I can’t say that.” You smile at her and take the dress. It was a really cute dress, to be honest.

Your smile drops a little and you sigh to yourself. “I don’t know why I’m trying to get all pampered for this.” It wasn’t like you had actually said yes to the date. You just had no choice. Yeah, that’s right.

Your mom watched you for a moment as you played with the fabric of the dress. “Because it’s your first date. Just let yourself have fun.”

“You don’t understand, Mom.” You set the dress down. “This guy’s idea of fun is smoking, drinking, and having sex. Period, end of sentence.”

She nodded, but it didn’t seem like the information was really settling in. “If he’s so out of your line of sight, why don’t you just not go?”

For some reason, that didn’t really occur to you. He seemed so dead set on taking you out, not showing up to the date wasn’t an option.

“There’s some part of you that likes him, Y/N/N. Whether you’ll admit that to Dina or not, you can’t hide it from me.”

She gave you a kiss on the forehead as she picked up the dress and went to go check out.

----

You rubbed your fingers along the case of your phone, flipping it to check the time every minute it seemed.

3:23… 3:24… 3:25…

You were only a couple minutes early. But he still wasn’t here. And you doubt he’d ever show up.

3:26…

It was probably some prank. Him and his friends thought it would be funny to mess with a tipsy Kook.

3:27…

It’s not like you had anything to give him. The Pogues didn’t care too much for what Kooks had, especially when those Kooks can barely get by in life.

3:28…

Pogue and Kook. What stupid terms. Who even came up with those?

3:29…

You felt all the anxiety you tried to fight out come out victorious. This was going to either be a set up, or a stand up. No in between, it was one or the other.

3:30…

You looked down at your sandals as you tried to kick the sand out from between your toes. 

You were overexaggerating. You knew that. Being a minute or two late wasn’t that bad. You’ve been late to important meetings and such. So why were you so upset about this?

“I didn’t think you’d show up.” 

Your head jolted up as you watched the figure of the boy approach you. He was wearing the same stupidly goofy smile as yesterday. His outfit was simple, a grey tank top with shorts, but it looked good on him.

You shrugged a little, holding onto your phone a bit tightly. “I had nothing better to do today.” You tried to cooly answer. You wanted to make up for how he saw you yesterday.

He nodded, just taking the information even though it was clear he didn’t believe it. “Well, I hope you’re wearing a bathing suit, cause we’re heading out on the water.”

“On the water?” You repeated. “Like, on a boat?”

JJ started walking backwards, holding out his hand for you to take. “Yep.”

You were hesitant, but grabbed his hand anyways. By showing up, you agreed to the date. Whether you thought of that or not. The least you could do was go along with what he has planned.

As soon as your hand touched his, he smiled and pulled you along down the beach with him.

Strangely, his hand was soft. Yes, it had a rough undertone to it, but it’s not something you’d notice if you were just shaking it or holding it for a couple seconds. There was no way he could make his hands feel like this in one night for one girl. It had to be something he worked on daily, weekly at the least.

“Say hello to the HMS Pogue.” JJ gently took your senses from your hands back to your eyes.

The boat in question had the words ‘HMS Pogue’ painted on the side of it. It was in fairly decent shape, you made sure to note in your mind.

You glanced at him, noticing he was watching for your reaction to his friends’ prized possession. 

Giving him a smile, you look back at the boat. “She’s really nice.” Usually, you’d just say something like this to get out of the conversation. You couldn’t say anything bad, in case it came back to bite you in the butt. This this, now this was genuine.

The smile he had from before seemed to grow more sincere, though that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but a person who has been watching the teenager for years.

He let go of your hand as he hopped in the boat. Your hand felt weird now, as if you wanted his touch again, even just for a second more.

That want was somewhat fulfilled as he held out his hand to you once again. This time it was to help you on the boat. Which you gladly took.

Now the boat wasn’t huge, but for two people, it was pretty spacious. It looked like it had been recently cleaned to the best of the boy’s ability. But what caught your attention the most was the basket that was down in the middle, a blanket thrown out under it.

You glance at the boy that was driving the boat away from the dock. “A picnic?” You smooth out the back of your dress before sitting yourself down on the blanket and taking off your sandals.

“Is that not a good first date idea?” It was obvious he wasn’t the dating kind of guy. He was used to hooking up, not meeting up. This would be his first real date.

But it was also your first date.

Shrugging, you rub your hand against the softness of the blanket. “I think it’s nice.”

If you were paying attention, you might have seen the smile that cracked onto his face that held more than just the idea of his plan working. If you were paying attention, you might have seen the way he shook off that smile as quick as it came.

“Good, good.” He mutters, nodding. He clears his throat after a while, after you are pretty far out into the water. “I hope you like sandwiches.”

You look over as he sits down on the other side of the basket, opposite of you. “As long as you have turkey.”

Eight sandwiches later, between the two of you, JJ was sitting on the edge of the boat telling stories as you sat in a safer place, listening.

“So, John B actually took the bottle, and it was glued to his hand for the whole day!” 

You smile and shake your head, holding back a laugh. “That’s such a cruel prank. It must’ve hurt to get it off.”

JJ chuckles and kicks his shoes off before standing. “All I know is it was hilarious to watch him try to do the simplest of shit.”

There was a moment of silence between you, giving time for JJ to pull off his shirt out of nowhere.

You quickly redirected your eyes as a blush crept up your neck to your cheeks. “JJ, what are you doing...?”

“What? I told you you better be wearing a bathing suit.” He tossed his shirt over by the empty basket.

Shaking your head, you bring your knees up to your chest. “Well, I’m not.”

“Can’t take no for an answer, sorry.” Without much warning, he jumped down from his spot and picked you up. 

“JJ!” You squealed as he threw you over his shoulder.

He walks up to the edge of the boat. “Last chance; do you wanna take that cute little dress off before I toss you in?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

A furious blush once again covered your cheeks. “I-I am not taking off my dress…”

He shrugs. “Be that way.” Before you could ask him oh so sweetly to not toss you in, he tosses you in.

Another squeal erupts from your throat as your body comes into contact with the cold water. It was an unrefreshing wakeup call for anyone who needed it. 

You gasped for air as you broke the surface. A gasp that took in water from a splash right in front of you. 

“JJ!” You called out again as he resurfaced, laughing his ass off.

He swam over next to you. “Come on, Kookie. Live a little.”

You scoff a little and splash him right in the face. “Not when I just bought this dress earlier today.” You mutter.

He smirked as he got even closer. “‘Bought it earlier today’? As in, just for me?”

You blush yet again and look away. “N-No…”

With one hand he grabs your hips, and the other one places itself on your cheek to make you look at him. “Is Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes lying to me now?”

The tone of his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. The space closing in between the two of you made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

Surely, he wasn’t going to kiss you, right? It was only your first date. Wasn’t that kind of thing left for the end of it? Or maybe even the second? Or third? Definitely not the middle of the first, at least.

But then again, here you were, inches away from your lips touching their first boy. And you weren’t moving away. You weren’t rejecting it. 

It might have been because of the warmth that radiated off him as you both floated in the cold water. It might have been because of the way his touch made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

His lips never moved away, only closer. They didn’t hesitate, when centimeters away, to press themselves to your lips and steal any air that might have occupied your lungs.

His lips, much like his hands, were softer than you imagined. But unlike his hands, there was never a hint of roughness. It didn’t feel like hundreds of other girls have done the same as you; you felt different. Special.

Your lips danced together for what seemed like an hour. His took intricate steps, as your’s tried to follow him to a tee and only slightly tripping over yourself.

When you parted, you felt yourself leaning into him. Any doubts about kissing in the middle of the first date left your mind as you just wanted more.

JJ lightly squeezed your hips, pulling you over with him closer to the boat. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that dress too much.” He says as he slowly lets go of you.

“Yeah, right…” Biting your lip, you try not to make it evident that you craved his touch, if just for a moment more. That the cold water was unbearable without him near.

You said nothing as he climbed out of the water and into the boat. He extended his hand out for you, which you took probably a little too quickly. After he helped you in, you managed to slip on some of the water that dripped from you. You slipped right into him.

He caught you without a problem, laughing a little. “Falling for me already?”

You laughed a little along with him, but didn’t give him an answer or anything like that. “Doesn’t really seem like this was your first date.” You just would change the subject.

Shrugging, he went over to drive the boat back to land. “I’m just full of surprises.”

The rest of the ride was kind of silent. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. At least, after a while it wasn’t. Maybe it was just a little awkward for you.

Once he parked the boat, JJ hopped off, tied it down, and went over to help you get off. He made sure you didn’t slip this time.

You smile at him as you start to walk down the dock. “I actually had a really nice time…”

“What? You thought you weren’t?” He asked, fake offended.

With a shrug, you say, “Well, you’re-”

Before you could finish, JJ’s phone started to ring from in the boat.

“Hold that thought.”

You hadn’t realized the two of you were holding hands until he dropped your’s to run back to the boat and hop inside.

JJ picked up his phone and looked at the name of the caller. He rolled his eyes and answered. “What do you want now?”

“How is everything going?” Gavin’s voice made JJ want to hang up immediately.

He glanced over at you for a split second before looking out over the water and lowering his voice. “Just fine. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait!” Gavin called out before JJ could put his phone down. “Has she mentioned anything about her friend, or me?”

JJ shook his head. “No. Why the fuck would she?”

There was brief talking in the background. “Just wondering. Your money for this date will be given to you after school Monday.”

“Good.” Once again, JJ’s gaze trailed over to the girl who was standing by the end of the dock. The girl who was soaking wet from head to toe. The girl who bought a new dress just for his date. The girl he went on his first date with.

Without saying anything more, he hung up the phone. He was bound to break your heart, but he didn’t know if he wanted to.

____ ____

Tag List -  @outerbanksbabes ♛ @camillemonty ♛ @http-cherries ♛ @lonely-kermit ♛ @iccyyyybitch ♛ @Bearfacesbitch ♛ @itsagurl ♛

[bssaz97]

Based on our previous chat, Ruby meets male!Blake for the first time.

@darksaiyangoku, here you go buddy. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Ruby petal-burst into her room, she had narrowly escaped the gauntlet that was the new “Arc Twins” of Beacon. She needed sound advice, someone who had experience in these types of ordeals, and luckily for Ruby her advisor was here, taking her afternoon nap in her bunk.

Salvation!

Ruby: Blake! You gotta help me! There’s two Jaune’s *breathes* and one of them is a girl, *breathes* like a really pretty girl, *breathes* and now there’s two of them that are all over me, so I ran away and nowIdontknowwhattodosopleasepleaseplease! *breathes* Help me! 😭

*groans* “Could you keep it down... trying to sleep.”

Ruby immediately froze in place, realizing quickly that the person in bed did not sound like her teammate. Actually, no, it did sound like something her teammate would say, the issue being that it was coming from someone else she hasn’t heard from before.

Her wide silver eyes slowly look downwards, where she is now able to look more closely at the person in her teammates bed.

Upon closer examination this person did happen to look a lot like Blake, if she were a boy, even had cat ears. Which is probably why she didn’t notice before that this wasn’t her teammate sleeping. She wasn’t being racist, she swears!

She drifts her gaze across this male’s sleeping form, he was rather tall, more so than her friend. He had a lean form, but could tell even with a blanket cover that those muscles were toned, close to how Ren was, she would say.

Ruby’s gaze begins her way back towards this boy’s face, where she sees amber eyes staring amusedly back at her.

???: You finished?

OH NO! SHE’D BEEN CAUGHT STARING! ABORT! ABORT!

Ruby: A-Ah, Hi! Hello there! I was just looking for my teammate, but I guess I went in the wrong room! Hahaha! I’ll just be on my way-!

To her surprise though, the stranger began to laugh melodically, very reminiscent of how Blake laughs.

???: Ruby, you’re fine I’m not mad.

Ruby: H-How do you know my name?

The boy raised one of his eye brows quizzically, surprised his leader had not figured it out yet.

???: Really Ruby, I’m in our dorm room, which I wouldn’t be able to enter lest I had the scroll clearance. I’m in my bed specially and I’m talking to you like I’ve known you for months.

Ruby: ...Blake?

M!Blake: Yup.

Ruby: B-But how? I thought Jaune was the only one who had a twin. I mean, you were there for the initial testing of the experimental dust but you weren’t hit by any of it.... right?

The Faunus adverts his gaze away.

Ruby: Blake!

M!Blake: Don’t worry, I’m completely fine. Turns out the same thing happens to you no matter how much of the “splicing dust” you take or get on you. Granted it happened much quicker for Jaune while for me it took a bit longer. My sister is currently out to get us something for me to eat while I took the liberty of taking the first nap.

Ruby: This is all so confusing. Now my teammate has a twin, what am I gonna do…

M!Blake: You seem pretty stressed, wanna take a seat? *moves a bit to make a spot for the reaper*

Ruby: Mmhm.

Ruby sat down on Blake’s bed, then let out a sigh.

M!Blake: So you needed advice right? About Jaune and Joan, right?

Ruby: I’m just so confused.

M!Blake: Not sure how to proceed?

Ruby: *nods* I-It’s just… They give me so much attention, like I’m the holy grail at the end of a quest. Jaune is so forward now, Joan even more so, but they're so sincere about it too and I’ve never gotten this much attention directed at me before so now I’m-! I just got overwhelmed I guess. *sad Rose noises*

The Male faunus had his eyes closed, holding his chin in his dominant hand with a pondering expression for a few moments before a thought hit him.

M!Blake: Hm… I think I know what your problem is.

Ruby: That I’m a dork who can’t handle a bit of forward teasing?

M!Blake: *uncrosses his arms* Not that. I think what you’re through is easier to understand. You, Ruby Rose, are coming to terms of being a sub.

Ruby: ...Huh?!

Out of all the things she thought would come from Blake’s mouth, well her twin’s mouth, she did not think that would be one of them.

M!Blake: For all your life you’ve always wanted to be a huntress, a symbol of strength and dominance over the Grimm to many. You’re so used to being the “hero” that when someone else comes in to sweep you off your feet, you’re overwhelmed and shaking like a school girl who just got confessed to.

Ruby: That is what happened Blake!

M!Blake: So you’re agreeing with me?

Ruby: No! Well yes but- Grrr! You’re making me confused!

M!Blake: *laughs* Yep, you’re definitely got it bad.Sorry to say it, but behind closed doors, you’re the sub.

Ruby: Nooo!~ That’s so uncool!

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it’s the truth. But don’t take it as a bad thing. That just means if you decide to accept their offer, they’ll do anything to please you.

Ruby: Eh? They will?

M!Blake: Yep. Anything you want.

The Faunus leans over and places her neatly folded cloak on the desk, the reaper having been so flustered that she didn’t even recall him taking it off her.

M!Blake: Take, for example, pampering.

Ruby: Pampering? But I’m not a baby!

M!Blake: Well not like that… unless you’re into that? *gives a side glance*

Ruby: *frowned* Blake.

M!Blake: Right. What I mean is like, indulge in your wants.

Ruby: *blinks* My wants?

M!Blake: Yeah, like say, if they started to spend more time with you, taking you to the weapon store and that arcade we saw one time in Vale you wanted to go.

Ruby: That… sounds good.

M!Blake: What if they started giving you extra strawberries for lunch because they know you love to eat them.

Ruby: *gasps!* That would be the best.

M!Blake: Bow what if they offered to give you a shoulder massage?

Ruby: Shoulder massage? Why would I wa-aaah...

Whatever words Ruby was about to utter we’re cut off as she felt two hands, his hands, began to slowly massage her shoulders.

While a part of her brain thought that she should have shoved him away, another part did not feel any harm in his movements or his facial features. What struck out to Ruby the most were his amber eyes, in those irises she found no ill will or hidden agendas. Instead she found someone that she could trust, like his counterpart and her teammate.

So Ruby relented, decided not to shove him off, and let Blake continue.

M!Blake: How are we doing?

Ruby: I-It feels ok. I could definitely see myself enjoying this. I-If Jaune or Joan made an offer to do this!

M!Blake: Mm, that’s good to know. You actually seem to be enjoying this, mind if I go a bit further?

Ruby: S-Sure.

Blake gets up momentarily, much to her dismay, but then motions for Ruby to lie down on the bed, which she did without a second thought, after all this was only a massage from a friend.

Ruby laid belly down on the bed and kindly accepted the offer of her teammate’s pillow for head support. She feels the bed shift as her faunus friend’s male counterpart gets back on the bed to kneel above her back and returns to his massaging, much to her delight.

M!Blake: Are you enjoying yourself?

The red reaper hummed in approval.

M!Blake: Excellent, try to relax a bit, I’m going to try something a bit different now.

Ruby wasn’t sure what exactly he meant but her train of thought left her when suddenly she registered feeling something sharp just poking on her back.

Unknownst to her, Blake’s counterpart possessed an ability his sister did not, he could extend his nails to the point that they became claws.

M!Blake: Ok Ruby, you ready?

Ruby: I-Is this safe?

M!Blake: You remember we have Aura, right? I couldn’t hurt you even if I had the intention to do it with these.

Ruby: Oh, right. *nervously laughs*

M!Blake: It’s ok Ruby, you’re in safe hands.

Ruby: Thank gods Yang wasn’t here to hear that.

M!Blake: Starting. Now just relax.

Ruby breathes in, relaxing her back as best as she could and-

Ruby: ‘Oh my goooooooooods!~’

Ruby started to hum sensually as the faunus started to slowly and carefully scratch her back. He wasn’t too rough but it was certainly a satisfying experience. She felt she could get lost in this moment for hours.

M!Blake: I take it I’m doing a good job? *smirking slightly*

Ruby: Mmmm!~

M!Blake: I’ll take that as a yes.

The two continued on like this for a few minutes, that was until the male Blake’s ears heard the sound of shuffling outside the door.

*click!*

Out from the door came the original Blake, a tray of tuna rolls and books in each hand, but almost fell from her grip as she saw the sight before her.

That being of her make twin and her team leader being under her.

F!Blake: What are you doing?!

M!Blake: Oh hello sister, I forgot you were coming back. Thanks for getting us food, and books! How thoughtful. Can you set both down on the desk, please? I’ll get to them in a bit.

F!Blake: FORGET THE TUNA! What are you doing to Ruby?!

M!Blake: ...Giving her a massage, isn’t it obvious?

F!Blake: *breathes* Did she consent?

M!Blake: Course. *blinks* ...Hold on. Did you think-?

F!Blake: *groans* I don’t know. From my point of view, it would have looked like anything. You’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Yang!

M!Blake: *he frowns* You know as well as I do that we’d never take advantage of Ruby in such a way.

F!Blake: I know! I know… Sorry for jumping to conclusions. What are you now anyway?

M!Blake: Giving her legs a massage. She’s really sensitive there, apparently.

Ruby: *pleased mumbles* M-More…

F!Blake: I-I see. Well Jaune and Joan have been asking me if ups had seen her around anywhere so you better wrap this up before we have a major misunderstanding.

M!Blake: Fair. Although you seem upset about something else though.

F!Blake: I have no idea what you mean. *her eyes looked away from him*

M!Blake: No, something is definitely bothering you. I can tell.

His gaze followed to where his sister was staring and he soon realized that she had her eyes locked onto the person that was underneath him.

A lightbulb flicked on.

M!Blake: *smirks* Wow, I wasn’t aware we were capable of jealousy.~

F!Blake: Who said I was jealous?

M!Blake: Oh please, it’s written all over your face. Why are you basically lying to yourself?

F!Blake: …..

M!Blake: Oh I get it. You’re disappointed she let me give her a massage instead of you.

F!Blake: You can’t read my mind…

M!Blake: Like I need to, you and I share a similar mindset.

The male Blake ceases his massage, then gently pats Ruby’s shoulder to grab her attention. Which he had already since he stopped her flow of euphoria.

Ruby: *whimper* W-Why’d you stop?

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it seems like we’re switching for now.

Ruby: Eh..?

He carefully steps off the bed, once he’s off he looked at his sister expectantly.

M!Blake: Well? Gonna keep her waiting?

F!Blake: W-Wait, huh?

Ruby: Blake... I don’t want my massage to be over yet!~

Blake couldn’t believe what she was hearing, her team leader and brother were expecting her to… the former a massage. Her hands rubbing her peers’ skin and muscles, like a masseuse. Her face and brain were heating up as it was taking a bit of time to process.

Ruby: Blaaaake!~ Please…! I want more!

F!Blake: …. ‘Fuck it.’

Without another word, she got on her bed, sat in a kneel over the young reaper waiting for her massage to continue.

She looked at her hands for a brief moment before taking a breath, steeling herself as she took the dive.

Ruby: Mmm!~

F!Blake: ‘Yeah, this is definitely worth it.’ -///-

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

uh, ml bnha au

Yep. Here we go folks. Uh I don’t know much I’ll expand on this but it’s here. The quirks that is. Uhm- here we go I guess? Thank you @ghostatjoes and @symphonic-scream and all y’all for the ideas and inspiration.

Adrien’s will be the only on the nose most obvious one. I wanna try and keep these powers from being just the miraculous powers. So this will be a mix of just original ideas and akuma stuff.

Adrien: “Cataclysm” pretty much it’s Shigaraki’s Decay but a little different. It’s this au’s version of One For All. The Destruction Hero, Plagg, passed this quirk down to him when Adrien proved that he had a good heart to be a hero cause Plagg needs a replacement due to an injury causing Cataclysm to slowly start to kill him. Adrien is aiming to save as many people as possible as a rescue hero. (His outfit has a cat motif in honor of Plagg who has a cat head due to an unrelated mutation like how Tokoyami has a bird head)

Marinette: “Growth” Marinette can amplify the life in a living object. Whether this means taking a small flower and turning it a building tall beanstalk or amplifying the healing of someone’s body. However she can only use this in short bursts or else she risks over growing her body causing chronic pains and possible plants growing from her arms. 

Nino: “Bubbles” Okay yeah so obviously Bubbler, but it’s a little cooler? Nino can entrap anything into these bubbles. Sounds, healing packs, explosions, balls of fire, light itself, all condensed into these bubbles ready to be yeeted across the battle field like bombs, med packs, or flash bombs. However they can be a little fragile so he’s working to make them more tough. The bubble solution he uses to make these bubbles are made of his unique sweat. Bakugo style. Don’t ask what it’s made of he isn’t sure either. At least it makes him smell nice.

Alya: “Signal” Not the most offensive quirk, but she can send a signal to every single person in a certain radius that she’s training to grow. Whether this is a message, an image she’s seeing(this can extend to just what she’s seeing in general), etc. She’s also training for this to extent to different signals in the air like WiFi signals so she can send them electrically as well. However she risks heavy migraines with overuse. To make up for her very situational quirk she’s working on upping her physical strength.

Chloe: “Venom/Honeycomb” With Venom she can temporarily paralyze a specific part of an opponent. It’s not as strong as her mother’s Venom or her Aunt/Mentor Pollen’s Venom as it’s a quirk she’s gotten from her family, but she’s working on making sure she’s the most exceptional in the entire class, and making sure no one hears of her other quirk. Honeycomb, which is actually her main quirk and not secondary, gives her the ability to produce a honey like substance that can harden into resin following her will. Chloe refuses to use it for it is unexceptional. She must be like her mother or else..

Sabrina: “Emotional Pulse” Sabrina draws energy from the emotions around her to give her a physical boost. It can go from a strengthened punch to something looking like Detroit Smash. However a draw back can be that the emotions around her can start literally affecting her and somewhat tilting how she may feel. So in an angry environment she herself might start to become angry as well. Hyper empathy basically. And it makes her a little anxious about her identity as an individual.

Nathaniel: “Ink” Nathaniel basically water bends ink into creations he can control, quite literally drawing his creations to life. His limit is how much ink he has. Like that one fuckin Mickey Mouse game.

Alix: “Clockwise” For, at most, thirty seconds, Alix’s speed is super enhanced to an incredible degree, practically breaking time itself. This also enhances her strength and mind, pretty much giving her the spiritual equivalent of that one scene with QuickSilver or that one scene from Over the Hedge. However she can’t go over thirty seconds right now or else her body, mind, and definitely internal organs will begin to face serious damage. To make sure she can track herself, she has a pocket watch that she always has handy to remind her how much time has actually passed.

Kim: “Icarus” Kim can create wings out of a waxy substance from his back that allows him the power of flight. One of the most straightforward power here honestly. Like Icarus however, these wings can melt and can be destroyed. Kim, however, has a small control over the wax which means he could potentially be able to use it for something else, however this requires patience and control, something he lacks. 

Max: “Locker” Pretty much, Max is able to set a “marker” on any enclosed space (of a arm reachable size, spanning from a literal locker or a luggage bag) and from anywhere in a 4 mile radius (that he can train to grow) Max is able to “reach into inside” and grab anything that’s inside there. However this space must exist, it’s not a pocket dimension, and so are the objects inside as well. This quirk is useful for holding emergency equipment or grabbing a quick weapon. However it has to be something he can actually hold and something he has already put in there, so he must calculate what would be useful so he can prioritize space and what he should bring with him. 

Ivan: “Minotaur” Gives him attributes akin to The Minotaur. Though his appearance is mostly human, it does become more and more beastly as his anger or need to use his power rises. 

Mylene: “Fear” Mylene gets a boost of power from the fear around her, which she has the ability to enhance to terrifying levels, leaving her victims in states of trauma and distress if she doesn’t control its degree. This quirk mutates her slightly to be akin in some way to the form of the person she’s using her quirk on’s fear. However she herself is easy to be scared so this backfires most of the time.

Juleka: “Vampire Bat” She can do anything a bat can do! Plus a bloody bonus. She has the power of echolocation which, if trained, can possibly knock down a small target. She doesn’t have wings but is working to incorporate some kind of glider into her hero design. As for that vampiric bonus, she has minor control over blood, able to bend it at will, however at this moment, the best she can do is make someone dizzy through a few edits with their blood stream.

Rose: “Perfume” Rose is able to admit a powerful perfume like gas which, upon inhaling, can reduce the victims into a drowsy state of mind. However she’s the only one immune to it so she must be extremely careful with how she uses it and who's around to possibly inhale it. A strange side effect from this quirk is that there’s a slight green tint to her blush.

Extras-

Luka: “Synesthesia” like the actual condition of synesthesia, he is able to visualize and conceptualize sound on different levels of understanding. With this, his hearing is incredibly sensitive and simply pressing an ear against the wall could help him develop an map of the entire building. He claims to hear the souls of others as well, which is supported by his ability to tell from illusion or reality just by his sense of hearing.

Kagami: “Storm” She has the entire essence of a storm wrapped up inside her. Though it may be confused with Class 1b’s Aurore Beaureal’s quirk “Weather” if you were to mistake those two, you would certainly get a lightning bolt to the stomach. Kagami’s quirk has been part of her family for generations, and as the up coming member of her hero family’s legacy, she is planning for no one to be in her way.

Marc: “Origami” Has complete control over paper and can manipulate them to become any creation they can think of, getting said creation’s attributes. So if Marc made a origami dog it might start barking and it’s teeth might become sharp enough to actually pierce skin, same if Marc made a paper sword. However the limitation is how much paper Marc actually has.

Lila: “Whistle” Lila can manipulate a person’s perception through the power of her whistle, causing possible hallucinations or problems in their sight. However it’s controlled by her whistle and it’s power so breathing exercises are important for her to do. To make things easier, she has taken up using the flute to better enhance her quirk. 

Maybe in a different post I’ll talk about the different pro heroes, vigilantes, and villains.

[madd-information]

Have you watched Kati Morton's new video about Maladaptive Daydreaming? What do you think about it?

[intro]

For years, I believed maladaptive daydreaming to be a form of dissociation, but it could also be added to the DSM as its own diagnosis, since it does have its own set of unique symptoms. Either way, at this time maladaptive daydreaming is not listed in the DSM as a diagnosable mental illness.

I was concerned because her last couple videos on the topic were very confusing to watch and seemed to conflate MD with the inner-worlds of DID.  It looks like she has done some more research on it and is going to make a more informed video. This is great and I deeply appreciate that she’s taking the time to do a proper dive into this. 

The closest diagnosis would be DPDR, or depersonalization derealization disorder. And this is the diagnosis given to those of us who struggle with dissociation. [explanation of DPDR]

Gonna need you to source that Katie, I’ve never heard an MD researcher say something like this.  When they talk about MD they call it a behavioral addiction with OCD features which is related to dissociative absorption (different from derealization and depersonalization, these two dissociative experiences are not particularly significant in MD, though they can happen.)

These experiences are extremely common. It's estimated that half of all adults have had at least one episode of DPDR. 50% of people. That is a huge amount of people.

Cool but not sure it’s at all relevant to the video topic. 

Also, it's important to mention that in 2016, four researchers put together the Maladaptive Daydreaming Scale, or MDS. This is a 14-item self-reported scale, meaning that you as the patient answers 14 questions based on your own maladaptive daydreaming experience.

It’s a 16 item scale now, it was changed very early on and has been 16 for years.  This is a very small and forgivable knitpick, just fyi. 

The MDS focuses on the content of our daydreams, how intense the urge to continue daydreaming is, and how much it impairs our ability to function in our lives, and the benefits and costs of our daydreaming. I am not personally familiar with this scale, nor have I used it in my practice, but I've linked the research article in the description if you wanna learn more about it.

A good description, and here’s that link again for anyone who wants to read about the finer details of this scale. 

When it comes to maladaptive daydreaming, it isn't just feeling out of body or environment. We can create very intense and detailed daydreams with plots, characters, and very lifelike issues and storylines. Some people will get the plots for their daydreams from their real lives, while others can create a utopian place unlike their current experience.

Yep, decent overview of content, though content doesn’t matter that much.  Also, use of “we”.  Is Katie Morton an MDer or was this a creative choice?  I don’t know, just a passing thought. 

We can find ourselves staying in these daydreams for various amounts of time. And some of my patients have reported staying in them for hours. And many of you have let me know that you struggle to get out of them at all, spending days in this other life that we've created.

Yep, good overview, but more importantly she’s listening to her patients and the feedback of MDers in her audience.

...there are many causes for this, and the first I wanna address is trauma triggers. If we've experienced a trauma in our life, things that remind us of that time or situation can pull us into a flashback, cause us to dissociate, or in many cases push us into our maladaptive daydreams.

When our brain and the rest of our nervous system feels overwhelmed and unable to deal with what's going on in the moment, it can pull us out of our current situation through dissociation. I always talk about that, like our brain pulling the ripcord. And it can also utilize maladaptive daydreaming. It's a way to cope or get through an overwhelming situation when we don't have other skills to help calm our nervous system down. So we just rely on what we know, and that can be daydreaming or dissociating. It's almost like this coping skill protects us from having to feel traumatized again and so it takes us away, you know, drops us into a much safer and happier place.

Trauma is always talked about first when people do overviews of MD.  She’s not wrong but just to add more information;  about a quarter of MDers report trauma, the other 75(ish)% don’t.  It’s a significant number but trauma is not the only pathway to MD.  Sometimes people walk away from these videos feeling like “well, I don’t have any trauma, maybe I don’t really have MD”.  That’s not a comment on what Katie has presented, she does go into other things below, just adding on.

Another cause or trigger can be high levels of stress or anxiety. We can slowly feel ourselves become more and more overwhelmed until our brain pulls us out of our reality and into a new one, aka our maladaptive daydreams. In short, we can want to stay in these daydreams to feel better and safer, but it can get in the way of us functioning in our life.

Yep

[audience anecdotes]

...Which is why even the term maladaptive daydreaming is used. Maladaptive means it's not providing adequate or appropriate adjustment to the environment or situation. So the daydreaming is only holding off the bad things. It's not actually making anything better or helping us process any of the upset. It's really just a temporary check-out, which can be helpful sometimes, but if it's happening all the time or making it hard for us to focus at work, school, or with our friends and family, we should find other, better ways to cope.

Exactly.

Which moves us into how we can better cope so that we don't get sucked into our daydreams for hours, days, or even weeks. And first up is mindfulness. Now, I know that term is overused now and super annoying but in order for us to know when we even need to use other coping skills, we have to know when the daydreaming urges are happening. So often we aren't aware of what we were feeling or thinking until it's too late and we're already pulled into our daydream. And at that point it's more difficult or even impossible for us to pull ourselves out. Therefore, we have to start being more aware of what we're going through.

[continues explanation]

Perfection.

And so next is figuring out ways to calm our system down. This can take the form of a distraction technique like going for a walk or organizing a part of our home, coloring, watching a show, playing a video game, you name it. These calming things could also be more process-based, things like journaling or talking to your therapist or a friend about it, or even using an impulse log. [Continues with calming things]

Good examples, MD researchers specifically recommend keeping a log.

We're also going to have to find some coping skills that we can use when we're starting to feel overwhelmed and wanting to go back into the daydream. Maybe we hold an ice cube in our hands, clap our hands, count the number of things in the room that are blue, brown, black… whatever works for you, do it.

Good stuff. 

And it's okay for something not to work. We just have to try it to know and then move on to something else.

Important point to make, happy to see this. 

Once we have a few things that work, write them down in your phone or on a post-it note so that you can see it and be reminded when you need it. We will also need to come up with some ways to pull ourselves out of the daydream. And I know this is gonna be harder and we may even wanna call upon helpful and supportive people in our lives to assist us.

Good advise. 

We could, because it's our daydream, right, we could put a big door in our daydream and we can choose to go through it and pull ourselves out, or have people in the daydream that remind us of our real life and tell us to go back.

A good suggestion.  Q, on the Parallel Lives Podcast (I can’t remember which episode off the top of my head), did something like this by turning to his characters and saying “ok, take 5 guys, we’ll pick it up at xtime”, and many people have found that to be a clever and helpful method. 

Now, I know this is really, really hard… which rolls into my final tip, which is to work with a therapist to heal from the trauma or to learn how to better cope with the anxiety or stress we're feeling. Working to heal or process through the reason our maladaptive daydreaming exists in the first place will ensure that we don't need it anymore.

Absolutely seek professional support if you can. 

... if we heal the issue we're struggling to cope with, the urge to use those unhelpful coping skills will go away altogether.

[outro]

I think this last point will frighten a lot of MDers.  It’s probably the brevity of the video that didn’t allow her to really expand on this, and I certainly don’t want to put words into her mouth that she may not have intended.  Don’t be afraid of losing your MD.  “Curing” Maladaptive Daydreaming does not mean “I’ll never see my world again.”  You’ll always have the capacity to daydream like this, you were born this way, but it *doesn’t* have to be maladaptive. Like overeating, you will never not eat, you will fix your relationship with food. 

Good video overall, brief but accurate and includes the standard helpful advise. 

[uhhhhyandere]

halloween special!

hi everyone!!!! 

for halloween this year, inspiration struck and i decided to craft this halloween special demon/angel light au! i had so so much fun writing this and hope yall enjoy it!!!

no matter where you are in the world, if you celebrate halloween or not, i hope you all are doing amazing and know that you are so so loved (by me) and thank you all for the love and support you give! i love every single one of y’all and let’s finish out the year the best we can!!!! 

word count: 7.2k 

And He will bring hell with him. 

The grass will gray, and the trees will blanket with ash as all life is left withered, limp, and colorless in his wake. He takes, and takes, and takes with the full red moon on his back and the stars glittering on his lips in golden lies. Should his, Kira's eyes, red with ire from his unattained vision, seek you out, you are bound to the pits of hell itself for eternity. 

"Well, that's what the tale says," Misa said. "If you believe in that kinda stuff." She flipped the book over to display the illustrations. You leaned over to get a closer look. "They really have to make evil people this beautiful, huh?" You looked at her incredulously. "What? You're thinking the same thing! I just said it…" Her eyes trailed down to the pages again. 

"He was a mortal once?" Misa nodded her head and adjusted herself on the sofa for you to scootch closer. Her red manicured nails slipped the page over to the next. 

"Who tried to be a god." You squinted down at the new page and pointed. 

"She kinda looks like you." She laughed. 

"Just wait," Misa replied. "Anyway, he was young, a few years below us, when he came across the power to make him a god. He was not chosen nor special. The power was left to be picked up by any traveler. It just so handed to be dropped outside of his family's farm, and he just so happened to be who he was. An ambitious genius with the same hunger for power the poor have for food. He used this power to rise above all others and to kill any who dared step in his way." Tragic art painted the pages as Misa continued to flip through them. 

"How?" Misa shook her head. 

"They don't know. We don't know. A creature crueler than Kira. A bored god looking to stir trouble. A blessing that was used as a curse. Perhaps all. Perhaps none." She giggled. "Exciting, isn't it?" You scoffed. 

"Yeah, yeah. Keep going." 

"But he had enemies. No mortal man should wield what Kira wielded. Those who wanted to strip him of his power and deliver justice to those he had ridden of, not grasp the power, the golden throne, he sought. They played games with one another. Cruel, cunning games of who would outsmart the other. He who was supposed to condemn his power and he who had it used the same means to win.

"Us. Regular people used and thrown away to further their game. There was one," she pointed at the girl who resembled herself, "who picked up the same power as he. It was her who tried to love him, that bent at his word, that carried out his will." Misa swallowed, "but he had lost his ability to love, or that's what was thought until..." Misa cut herself off. 

"Kira and his nemesis continued to use, to manipulate the very ground the other walked on. All until he finally stood at the foot of the throne of the world he thirsted for. Pristine and shining, it stood above the clouds themselves. This is where he was slain, where his blood stained the stone, the rug, the throne, infecting and cursing them. The throne cracked, contorted, twisted, and fell. Down, down it fell until he and the now blackened throne were in hell. 

"One day, when the full moon shines on the bleeding night, he will rise, and he will bring hell with him. He will claim what he has lost to reign over the world of men. The grass will gray, and the trees will blanket with ash as all life is left withered, limp, and—,"

"I know that much," you interrupted, "but I'm confused. Did you leave a part out? Where you cut yourself off, I mean." White teeth dragged across her lip. 

"After," she started to rapidly flip the pages, "after he was banished to hell, they found…" Her flipping stopped at the very last page, "this." 

On the page was a cage with gnarled black metal and a large gash across the bars. A human whose arms crosses on their chest in an 'X.' Their feet were bound together and tied with rope to the middle's central support pole. Blood trickled down their face, torso, and legs. Beautiful, broken, ripped wings crumpled at their back. "He had stolen an angel. Broken them. Claimed them. Upon their back, scars from where he had failed to rip them off their back." She hummed. "Kinda looks like you." 

You laughed nervously then scoffed, trying to get the haunted picture out of your brain. "Should his eyes, red with ire from his unattained vision, seek you out, you are bound to the pits of hell itself for eternity because you are who he has lost, and he will not fail again.

"But that's just how it goes!" Misa laughed good-naturedly and shut the book harshly. "Pretty scary, right?" You shook your head.

"Absolutely not. First, it's actually pretty disturbing. Secondly, it's so vague! No details on how he died, if the other guy killed him. You'd think after eons of repetition, they'd make stuff up." Misa shook her head. 

"Yeah, if you ask a bard, but do you really want to hear a romanticization of it in a song where they talk about how he loved whom he locked away and claimed? They do not sing about the reality, for it is far too gruesome for even documentation, much less for song. At least, that's what Rem told me. Being vague is the only option to make it tolerable, but I think she actually knows the truth and won't spill." You laughed and rose from the library's sofa. "So? It's my favorite story." 

"That's because that girl looks like you." 

"And?" You clicked your tongue. 

"I dunno. I did say it was disturbing, but you don't really believe in this kinda stuff, right?" You scratched the back of your head. 

"Of course, I do!" She giggled. "Ever since Rem took me in and taught me to read, it's been my favorite book." How could you forget what an oddball Misa was? You sighed. 

"Alright, believe what you want. Halloween is the day after tomorrow, after all. Be as spooky as you want." Misa rose and slipped the leather-bound book back into her bag. "Are you stealing that?" You harshly whispered. She shook her head. 

"Nope! It's Rem's." Oh, gee.

"I'd rather steal from the library—which has free books—a concept I just remembered for some reason than Rem. Do you have a death wish? Nevermind, don't answer that. Why did you make me come to the library again?" 

"Isn't this where people read?

"...You're right. I got nothing. Come on. I need to get back to the market. I promised my parents I would pick up the pumpkins Mello grew and carved. Apparently, people are putting lights in them to make the faces glow at night."  

Your village was reasonably large, set on the misty hillside of the mountain. Though the nearest city where the Earl of the region lived was a few miles down the path and knights on horses frequented here on their patrols, your village felt world's away from society. It was also relatively famous for the chapel, so travelers often stopped to visit, especially with the holiday season. 

It rested closest to where the cliff dropped into nothingness. Flowers surrounded it, and moss grew up its stone walls. Vivid glass windows decorated all sides and around the wooden doors. A tower ascended from the front to where a millennial old bell sat still for just as long, for it was only to ring when the world was set to end.

Within, pews lined the plush red rug. The rug ran straight to the golden altar, where a large statue stood behind. The stained glass filtered color light upon its flawless, stone complexion. Water poured from the few holes in the body down into the small pond around it. 

"Are we going to meet on Halloween?" Misa asked. "You know it's my favorite holiday! Everyone will be on the square dancing and dressed up!" You smiled. 

"Of course. You know my parents would not miss a party. We can meet on my porch since it's closer?" She nodded enthusiastically,

"Yes! That sounds perfect! See you then!" The blonde blew you a kiss and skipped in the direction of her house. You smiled before turning on your heel and approaching the square. 

Of course, the market would be busy with both locals and travelers. It was mid-day, and each stand had its unique, limited-time holiday goods. You had to squeeze your way to make it to Mello's stand. The blonde grimaced as you approached. Ah. He's in a good mood! 

"Afternoon, Mello." 

"Y/N," he regarded you. "You're really going to buy a pumpkin with a scary face? Would it really go with your garden?" You scoffed. 

"It's my parents, actually, and yes! I can be scary and festive! Not as good as you, Mello. I heard that you carved lots of pumpkins for the village." He hummed and motioned to those on the wooden stand. 

"Not for the village," he replied. "You still have to pay, got it?" You rose your hands. 

"Of course, of course." You began to browse the selection. "Will you be attending the festivities night of?" He scoffed. 

"No. Now pick your poison or leave." You smiled and reached for one with a broad crooked smile. "Terrible taste." You furrowed your brows. 

"...But you're the one who made it?" Mello's eyes widened for a second before narrowing once more. 

"It's one of my worse ones. I guess it'll go well with you, then." You laughed and rubbed the carved circle around the stem with your hand. 

"Yep! Sounds good, Mello." You reached into your pockets and dropped a few coins in front of him. "Keep the change. Happy Halloween!" Mello snatched the coins from the table and shooed you off. You morphed back into the crowd, maneuvering your way through the group back to your house.

An abrupt, intense headache wracked your skull, causing you to suddenly stop amid the crowd and wince, nearly dropping the pumpkin under your arm. With your free hand, you grasped your forehead, but the pain only escalated and pulsed down your body. Two particularly intense strands of pain erupted on your back.

Peeking up, the crowd blurred around you, but your eyes on a figure at the corner of the inn. He was too far to make out the intimate details besides his lithe frame and brown hair. For moments you locked eyes before he disappeared behind the inn. 

The pain stopped as if it was an illusion. You snapped back into reality, chest heaving in relief. A few eyes looked at you in concern, but no one stopped to ask. Thankfully so. You wouldn't know what to tell them if they asked what happened. 

Shaking your head, you safely made it to your small house hidden behind a large oak tree. 

"Oh! You got the pumpkin! How was Mello?" 

"Charming as ever, of course. I was just with Misa at the library before that. She told me the story about Kira and his fall to hell." Your mom nodded her head and took the pumpkin from your arm. 

"Ah, that's an old one. I guess she's always been the type to be into that stuff. It freaks me out, personally." You followed your mom to the kitchen. 

"Yeah, me too. I try to remind myself it's not real, but there's also the small tick in the back of my brain that tells me it may be, you know?" She nodded again. 

"Oh, I like this carving! Nice choice, Y/N, but yes, I do that too. Especially since Halloween, this year, is on the full blood moon. An ill omen in all tales. Luckily the town's party rids my mind of such horrors, as should yours. Anything else happen today?" You paused.

"N-no. Nothing comes to mind. I think I'm going to go find father then wash up before dinner. Is he still in the forest?" Your mom nodded. 

"Yep. He's been hunting that same deer for weeks now. Apparently, it has a rack of the like he has never seen before. Something of beauty. I think he doesn't even want to kill it as much as he wants to see it again." Your dad was somewhat of a conundrum. As much as he awed and loved nature, he was a hunter who made income on the sale of its pelts and horns. "I'm sure he hasn't found it yet. Maybe you can help."

Unlikely, but you liked to explore the misty pines surrounding your village. They were too safe and had a few secret spots where hollowed logs led to hidden clear ponds. Wishing your mom farewell, you entered the pines and inhaled their thick scent. 

Your dad's job was handy in that you knew the backwoods like the back of your hand. He taught you the ways to track and navigate through the seemingly identical trunks. 

He also unknowingly taught you to sense when something was off with the forest. After ten minutes of traversing, you finally had the feeling of dread. The mist was inches too low, the grass droplets too wet, and the temperature degrees too low. You held your breath and glanced at your surroundings. 

A silhouette. A deer's head with a rack so vertically high you thought your eyesight was failing you. Except, as you stepped closer, this deer had the body of a man standing upon his two legs. Large hollow eyes oozed mist. 

"..." something was whispered into the air. You continued to hold your breath. "...—/N." The deer-man gave no indication of moving, and you could not bring your feet to even wiggle the frost from your toes. "Y/N."

Your name. Crystal clear. Your breath hitched. His hand with long, natural claws extended forwards towards you. "Y/N," it repeated. "You mus—....—ere. No t—." You could not make out his words. 

"Y/N!" Another yell. This time you recognized it as your father. Eyes blown open, you wretched your eyes from the deer-man and sprinted towards the voice of your father. 

"I'm...sorry." 

…

"You're not telling us everything." Your father accused. After you ran head-first into your father, petrified and stumbling over every word, he urged you home and waited for you to take the bath you begged them to allow you to have before sitting you in the sitting room, the fire roaring under the holiday wreath behind you. 

'It just scared me. I've never seen a bear of its size." Why are you lying? You had no idea. As soon as your mom asked the first questions, lies flowed out of your mouth like the truth. Stories you naturally never could have conjured on the spot. Stories you would never because you did not lie, which is why your parents, despite their dubious expressions, did believe you. "I swear. I just got freaked out. I think it's because of the story Misa told me today."

"That girl," your dad muttered. 

"She told them the story of the man who fell to hell. Kira." Your dad nodded and rubbed his chin with his hand. 

"Ah, I see. That would do it. Y/N, I know the full blood moon is coming, but there's no need to fret. Stories are just stories, alright? Leave your candlelight on tonight should you be scared of the dark, alright? Me and your mom are in the room over, alright?" You nodded. "Good. Now, what's for dinner?"

…

You lit the candle that night. In your nightwear, you sat on the edge of the bed. Muffled moonlight streamed through the frosted window and reflected off the full-length mirror in the corner. You inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled through your mouth.

"They're just stories. Just stories." Like a mantra, you repeated this under your breath as you ducked under the covers. Opening your eyes, though, you were met with a flash of shadow in the mirror. You jumped and stared at it with eyes open enough to feel the cold air. You waited for something in the still room to move, for it to flash again, but nothing did. Thankfully.

Still, you threw the blanket off of yourself and approached to assure yourself that yes, it was nothing, and yes, there was nothing: just your reflection and the room behind you.

Until you blinked. 

For a second, blood poured down your body and wetted down your clothes against your figure—wings broken and limp behind your back. 

You screamed and smashed the mirror with your fist on impulse. Along with the shards, your body fell to the ground, and actual bloodied hands kept you from collapsing entirely. However, the features in the fragments were not yours. The man, the one from the square, stared back, but at this closer view, you can see his eyes. 

Red. 

You threw yourself back against the wall and screamed. Your door busted open, and your parents barged in. Your mother ran to your side and took your hand in hers while your father took in the big picture around him. 

"I-I thought I saw something in the mirror. Misa told me once the m-mirror is the passage to the other world. I-I know it's stupid for me to react like this, but I just… I don't know. Do you think it's the blood moon?" Your parents were quiet. 

'It could be," your mother said. "The blood moon is supposed to come with magic. It enables beings to crossover from other worlds, from other planes. It is the ill omen, but crossing over is all they can do. They can't touch you or hurt you. That, I promise." You nodded. 

Your parents stayed with you, and, for the first time since you were literally a toddler, you slept in their room, blankets wrapped around you on their floor. Relief flooded your system when sunlight broke through the window. Though your sleep was haunted by vague images and muddled whispers, you slept through the night after the incident. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Your dad asked. "You can skip your daily chores if you don't want to do them. Tomorrow too. Aren't I generous?" You laughed but shook your head no. 

"That's alright. I think if I stay home, I'll just keep thinking about it. I need to get my mind off of it. Doing chores will put my mind at ease. Some normalcy, I think." Your dad nodded, though you can tell your parents weren't eager to just forget the events of last night.

You knew someone, though, that would be eager to learn about them. 

"Misa, can you keep a secret?" She bit into an apple. 

"No," she replied simply. "I tell Rem everything, but that's it. I don't really talk to many other people here besides you and her, so no one else to tell, but I know Rem will mind her business. She talks to fewer people than I do." That was true. You could count the number of times you talked to Rem on a single hand, and Misa said she liked you. 

"Okay, don't freak out, but…" 

She freaked out.

"And they were red?" You nodded. 

"Glowing. A sinister smirk on his face. His hands in the reflection, touching my own through the glass. It was the same as the one I saw in the square right after we met." Misa's eyes widened in enthusiasm and jubilation.

"It's him! It has to be! Kira!" You shook your head. 

"No, my mom explained it to me. It's a spirit from the other plane playing a joke on me. She told me that after I stopped crying and fled to their room before I passed out. That story isn't real. It… can't be." Misa shook her head and leaned forward. 

"It is! It's not that you don't believe it's real; it's that you don't want to believe it's real! Y/N, you have to believe me." You grimaced and backed away to create some breathing room.

"Why would I want it to be real?" You whispered solemnly. "Why would I want that to happen to me? I can't believe it's real. It can't be real. I'm terrified if it is real, okay? If my parents think it's real because I do, they'll tell the church, and if the church finds out? You know how they deal with spiritual trespassers and those they possess. I'd basically be dead. My soul stripped from my being to ensure I do not bring harm to anyone else. I would be a hollow body, Misa! Don't you get that!?" You inhaled a ragged breath. 

"...Has anything happened today?" You shook your head. "It's already almost sunset, so that's a good sign, at least. Sorry, I got too excited. Your feelings and safety are important. Okay, I promise I won't tell a soul about this." You breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Thank you. I just… don't know what to do." 

"Have you gone to the chapel? The water from the statue is supposed to cure any possession." You shook your head. "Okay! I think I know your next steps, then. Come on!" She stood abruptly from the bench and held out her hands. "Let's go!" 

She dragged you across the diameter of town until your footsteps echoed across the chamber. A few holy people greeted you as they did their duties. Some travelers prayed at the pews for good luck and well-being. A single man stood next to the pond where the statue stood. 

"Greetings," he welcomed. "I recognize you two from town, but I don't believe we've met. My name is Soichiro. Are you here to drink from the spring?" Misa nudged you forward. 

"Y-yes. Oh, I'm Y/N." He nodded. 

"I see. Does the blood moon have you nervous? Don't worry. Lots of people come to do the same before a blood moon. Come and cup your hands and drink the water. Any disease in your soul shall be healed." You lowered yourself down to your knees and cupped the crisp water between your palms. You lowered yourself to sip, and you swallowed. 

But it would not go down. 

You began to cough, and your body convulsed with coughs. Liquid did come from your mouth, but the drops upon the ground were not clear, but a vicious red. Soichiro yelled for the other holy people as your body shook and twisted. Ropes bound your wrists, and hands steadied your head—arms wrapped around your waist to keep you as still as possible. A man placed his palm on your forehead and whispered incomprehensible words. When he finished, he ripped his hand away, and your breath was restored. You were unable to fall with the tight grip they still had on you. 

"W-what happened?" You asked, feeling the tears on your cheeks continuing to inch down and the blood drying on your chin. "I-I don't know. I'm sorry." 

"Take them to the purification chamber."

"No! Please, no! Help me! Someone, please help!" It was a joint effort between numerous holy people to lift your struggling form from the ground. "Misa! Mom! Dad!" you called out for, yet, in the chapel, none of them were there. However, your screaming did not stop for them until you were placed on a large chair and gagged. Your legs were bound to the bottom of the chair, and arms rebound to the arms. Holy people circled around you. 

The chair you were in was much less a chair and more so a throne. Pure white metal was attached directly to the ground. Red cushioning provided comfort to your rear and back. With ragged breaths, you looked waited until one of them spoke or did anything besides watch you. It was the man who sentenced you here that approached. 

"Soichiro," someone called, but he ignored them and angled his head down towards you.

"I am going to undo your gag. Do not scream. I just want you to tell us the truth if you know anything. Sometimes… they do things without signaling a mortal." Large calloused hands undid the gag, and you inhaled greedily. "Now, tell us."

"A-are you going to take my soul?" 

"Speak first. I cannot make promises I do not know if I can keep." You swallowed and explained what you could to them. Your eyes were focused on the ground. The terror you would feel if his reaction was bad was too grand for you to meet his eyes. The silence after you ended your experience was deafening. "I see." He looked to a holy person nearby. "We need twenty-four-hours to prepare for the ritual. It leaves us with little room before the blood moon rises. If we do not store their soul… go now. It is much worse than any of us could have imagined." Your heart plummeted. 

"W-what? No! Please! Tell me what's going on! D-don't take my soul, please! I-I want to live! I'll run away! You'll never see me again!" Soichiro stared at you with what you hoped was empathy. The bags under his eyes spoke of his wisdom and his exhaustion. He motioned for the rest of the holy people to leave, so it was just him standing over you. 

"I'm sorry, child." He spoke softly, knuckles wiping the tears flowing down your face. "No matter how far you run, no matter how fast, no matter how well you hide, no matter how you continue on: alive or dead, he will come for you. The moment you locked eyes in the mirror, you were bound to him, just as you always have been." You shook your head, vehemently. 

"It's not true, is it? Kira... is he…?" Soichiro smiled sadly. "It can't be… it can't be me. It's impossible." You sobbed. "How? Please, at least tell me before… before…" You couldn't even make the words out. 

"My son," he began, "was always destined for greatness, but then greatness found him, and he became too great. The power he found was a single, black notebook. Write someone's name, and they would pass. It originally is from a Shinigami, a god of death, that possessed him while he owned it, but… there are forces more potent than Shinigami in the universe. He and his opponent, the one who sought to bring the mysterious killer Kira, my son, that plagued the land to justice, who we called L, always were at a battle of wits, of plans, but, in the end, my son won.

"But this victory angered others. It was they who killed him at the throne of the world. It was they who watched him plummet to hell. It was they who built the statue in this chapel and sealed him in hell so he could never return, but they have long passed. Their magic fading in time. I could do nothing in all this time except pray to angels to keep my son at bay." He paused and looked up solemnly. "You must be wondering how I am alive," He looked down at his pale hands. 

"The notebook is gone now. The Shinigami that dropped it fled back to his world when Lig- Kira, was cast down to hell. I, too, touched the notebook. A scheme my son created to get ahead. The curse of it never went away, and I am now stuck to live eternity until my son ends it." He clenched his fist. "I did not know you were so close. I did not know it was you. If I did… I would have taken your soul long before you could have known life without it." You shook your head. 

"I don't understand. What is my part? The book… the book only showed a cage with… someone in it. The story has no word of them. Just the girl… the weapon that served him." Soichiro sighed. 

"Back then, the plane between the mortal realm and other words was thinner when angels and spirits would roam mortal lands. You were an angel. A new one. Young. Wide-eyed and drawing silver linings wherever you walked. Someone he set to ruin. Someone with a soul so pure that he can take and twist to his own liking. No one should see you except him, so he locked you away and bound his soul to yours and your soul to his. As long as he lived, whether here or hell, you would too. 

"But just your soul. Unlike me, whose mortal body is stuck, it is solely your soul that has been recycled for eons. His part, the part of his soul within you, could only be awakened should your eyes meet his. Then, with his entire soul active and with the power of the red blood moon, he will be able to break the barrier that seals him tomorrow night. We must lock away part of his power, so he cannot walk this land again. 

"Should he, then he will seek to claim all that was taken from him. The mortal world will fall as we know it. Those he inevitably tricked in hell to follow him will breakthrough behind him. What the world deserves for not seeing him as the god he sees himself as." Tears pooled in Soichiro's eyes. "I still love my son. The bright-eyed boy, but he cannot love. What he feels for you is something far darker, something twisted. I do not know what he will do if he finds you. You will be better off soulless." You sobbed. 

"B-but the deer-man in the woods. Do you - I mean…" He furrowed his brows and shook his head. 

"I don't know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry my son came upon you. No one deserves this fate." You wretched in your bindings, ragged breaths, and eery whines escaping your mouth. "Some will be around to feed you later, and someone… someone will explain everything to your parents. 

"Let me see them!" You yelled out. "Please! One last time! They don't know anything! I just want to… please, I… I get it. Why you have to do this, but please let me say goodbye. Please. I just," you bit your bottom lip to prevent another wail, "please." Soichiro shook his head. The man could no longer maintain eye contact with you.

"I can't. We cannot risk you talking to anyone lest risk his jealousy. As far as we are concerned, you are not you. You are his." You pulled against the ropes once more. "I'm… so sorry. It is best for everyone that he does not see you with others while he is powerful enough to watch this world. I hope you never forgive me." Crestfallen, he turned his back and approached the door. 

"No! Come back! Please! Don't leave me alone here! P-please! S-Soichiro!" Only the slam and locking of the door met your calls. 

You don't know how long you howled and wailed, how many times it echoed back in the circular chamber to your ear. There came the point where your body could make no more tears, so you were left with pathetic dry heaves. It was then that a voice whispered in your head. 

"Y/N…" It was different than the voice in the woods. It was sinister, deep, evil. You focused on anything, the floor's intricate patterns, the ceiling, the running water behind the chair, the plants around the circumference of the room, anything to not acknowledge it. "Oh, aren't you a gift wrapped up for me? Clearly my father's work. Don't ignore me, Y/N. I know your every move. I know you can hear my every word" 

"F-fuck you!" You cried, and he laughed. Then, he clicked his tongue.

"Such dirty words. You're not the angel I remember, fresh out of the clouds. Ah, but there wasn't much angel left, from what I can recall. Do you feel it, Y/N? It shouldn't be long now…" For a long time, nothing happened, then, like two knives down your back, you screamed. "Ah, there it is. Those screams, I do remember. I don't care if it hurts." Blood soaked the cushion behind you and flowed down to your rear. "You brought this on yourself. This is what you deserve." 

"I didn't do anything!" You writhed. 

"Is that what my father told you? Is that what the story says? Oh, they couldn't be more wrong, love. You denied me what I deserve. You could have fallen to hell right with me, where you can be where you belong, but you stayed. I couldn't have you running back to the angels to live your days without me. I wouldn't allow it. If I hadn't had Mikami lock you in that cage, if I hadn't bound our souls, your grave would be in the flower fields above the clouds, but you got conceited. 

"Let me remind you of something, love. You are mine. Your body, your mind, your heart, your soul, what's between your legs, it's all mine. We are bound for eternity, Y/N. There is nothing you can do about it." He got quiet just as the immediate pain receded, leaving you with intense throbs. 

"You… won't get the chance," you spoke through tears. "Big talk for someone who isn't even going to breach this plane." A flash of pain sparked in your skull. He chuckled. 

"Oh, Y/N. Perhaps you are just as green as you were when we met. I can't wait to feel you again. To have you watch me burn the world." Silence. 

Despite your exhaustion, you could not sleep. You might as well have melted into the chair in how your body did not move a single inch, too scared to bother your wounds, and have the pain come back that is still aching. You did not want to spend your last hours unconscious. No one came to feed you.

"They're coming," he said. "They'd better be quick, then. The moon is almost up out there, after all." He groaned, and you jolted at the feeling of a cold hand on your neck. 

Soichiro and a train of holy people entered the room and surrounded you. He approached your limp body and undid your bounds. You did not miss him tense, and his eyes widen at the pool of blood in the seat from your back. 

'We must hurry. Any minute he will come through." Soichiro enlisted others to help him carry you back up the stairs to the altar. "Twenty four hours in the chamber has amplified their soul. It explains the marks on their back from their past life. Quick, on the altar!" The cloth was smooth against your skin as they placed you. 

Movement flurried around you as different scents were sprayed, various objects were placed on the ground and on the altar around you, and foreign words were spoken around you. Fatigue racked your body. There was not a single inch of your body that you could to move. 

Soichiro stood over your body. Your eyes, dead and clouded, stared up at him. In his hand was a singular, transparent, glass object. Quickly, he lifted his hand, ready to plunge it down. 

A loud bang resounded in the chapel, and the glass fell with a splatter of blood. You rolled your head to the side and watched two bodies approach from the entrance. All of the holy people around you were blown limply against the walls around you. It was only when they were right above you that you recognize it was Misa and Rem. 

"Rem, can you carry them? Do you still have your strength?" 

"Do not worry, Misa," she replied. Long arms lifted you while Misa skipped ahead and smiled reassuringly back at you. Music filled the crisp air. Lights hanging from the trees and other ornaments swept by your visual field. You groaned and lulled your head to face Misa. 

"M-Misa, no." You groaned. "He's coming." She giggled and turned around. Skipping backward, her smile widened. Behind her, the crowd gathered in the village square. Their vivid garments stuck out under the lights. 

"Of course I know, silly! Rem is a Shinigami just as the one who gave Kira his power. Just like he had a notebook, I had Rem's, but it was destroyed eons ago. Still, it binds me to live eternally, just like Soichiro. Luckily, Rem's cloaking magic covered me when I've met him, or he would have spoiled it all for us!

"When I saw you, I knew it was you. No matter how you may physically change, your heart and soul are always the same. Now, he's going to return to us. He's going to spearhead the new world." She twirled her hair around her finger. "Isn't that exciting?" 

You had no strength to fight in Rem's hold. Even if you did, you were unsure if you would be able to beat a Shinigami. 

Eyes were drawn to you as your bloodied and weak form was carried by an almost unidentifiable figure. Gasps echoed across the crowd, the music stopping as you presumably reached the square. 

"They watch helplessly," he spoke. "They know you are not theirs to touch. Soon, they will all know my power. They will all know who you belong to. Keep your eyes open, love."  

"Y/N! Y/N! Move! That's our child! Move! Y/N! The desperate calls of your parents broke through the crowd, but Rem presumably pushed them far back just the holy people, scaring the public to still and part for your funeral march. You heard the sick smack of bodies against a surface. Misa hummed to herself in front of you. Your head rolling back, you met Mello's wide and helpless eyes as he stood in the crowd. 

Misa led you away from the crowd and stopped at the flagpole at the village's entrance gates with the group following. Rem retied you to the base of the flagpole; your arms crossed over your chest in a familiar 'X,' legs and waist bound to the pole. Misa's settled herself next to you.

"All!" She called. "Watch as the blood moon rises behind the chapel! He who fell to hell is rising again to take what is rightfully his!" She pointed to the moon as it brilliantly glowed crimson above the chapel. Murmurs rose from the crowd, suspicious and fearful. "Watch as our god returns to the mortal realm!" 

The church bell rang. Its deathly reverberations echoing in your ear. The crowd fell to silence. 

"Have you missed me, love?" He spoke. "Because I have missed you." 

A red beam of light erupted from the chapel, followed quickly by multiple explosions. The statue, the roof, the infrastructure all crumbling by the expanding beam of light that touched the sky, screams erupted from the crowd, and they began to scramble. You pulled with what little strength you had left, but the pole against your back seized you in pain to cease your movements.

A silhouette could be made out of the beam. Large black wings spread from his back, sharp and jagged. Hands rose above his head before he dropped down in front of the chapel submerged in flames. His shadow enraptured you, and though his shadow was mostly unclear from a distance, you could make out his eyes even from here. Slowly, he took his first step forwards. 

Every needle and leaf in the trees around him fell. The grass withered all around him. Ash from the sky and littered the ground. With each step, the radius expanded until more and more life died around him. Your eyes trailed to the unconscious bodies of your parents against a tree. His zone of death stretched farther than them. 

"Eyes on me." 

"You're going to kill them!" You screeched. "Stop this madness at once!" You shook in your bonds. Misa was frozen next to you, eyes wide in anticipation as he approached. 

"Ordering me around? Perhaps you still are conceited. I think killing them will remind you of your place, hm?" Unfortunate humans were reduced to ash in his radius. The wind blew the ashes all around him, gently lifting his brown tufts of hair. "These mortals are nothing compared to you and I. Accept me as your mate. Accept the part of your soul that is my own, and the pain will all go away. You'll be dragged down to hell, and I'll bring you right back up." 

Your parent's ashes were a different color than the rest. 

"You know, it's been an eternity since I've heard you call my name. Do you even remember it?" You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. The thick scent of smoke, of ash, of death, permeated the air. "Eyes on me." He was almost here. Arms extended to the side, he approached from the other side of the square now. 

"Misa, we need to leave." 

"No! He's here! He's finally here, Rem!" 

"His aura will kill you, Misa." 

"No, I won't! He won't!" Rem, at lightning speed, grabbed Misa and flew in the other direction. "No! Put me down! I'll never forgive you! Stop!" Her voice echoed until it was out of range. Your head lashed back and forth, looking for any sign of life, but there was none: just ash, dying grass, and gnarled, graying trees. 

Dressed in all black, eyes blazing, teeth sharp, wings stretched, he now stood before you with the moon on his back. You pushed yourself against the pole despite the shock of pain. The grass around you died, the bugs vanishing, but you remained fine. You stared at his feet. 

"Oh, love," soft fingers reached down and tilted your head up. "You're as beautiful as I remember." Black wings encircled you, so you could only see him. "Do you remember my name?" You shook your head, and he gripped your chin harder. "Do not lie to me. Say my name, Y/N. Sew the wounds of your forsaken wings and accept your place with me." His voice resounded in you. "You feel it. I know you do. I feel your pain. Your fear. I've felt every emotion your reincarnations have ever felt. Say my name." He leaned in close.

"Kira." He clicked his tongue. 

"Stop resisting," he hissed. "Say my name, Y/N." His breath glided against your cheek. His hand moved to cup your jaw, and the other trailed down your waist.

"Light." It came off your lips quickly, easily, and he smiled, eyes widening with pleasure. Immediately, relief filled your physical body, your back's pain dissolving. Your head tilted back in bliss. 

"Y/N," he whispered against your neck. "Finally." He inhaled your scent deeply, hand tilting your head to give him more access. He placed a small kiss against your skin. His kisses trailed upwards, along your jaw, frantic against your cheeks, nose, until he captured your lips and stole your breath. 

"Oh, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. "I love you."  

[tiny-smallest]

day one - pride

Rating: G Characters: Henry and Bendy Warnings: none Description: Henry reflects on the definition of labels and belonging in certain spaces.

Also on AO3!

---

WHO'S READY FOR THE INK DEMONTH 2021 I SURE ONCE AGAIN TOTALLY WAS YEP DEFINITELY NO LAST MINUTE ANYTHING HERE LET'S GO

Doing writing prompts again because this year has been A Lifetime and I just don't possess the ability to draw this time so let's go let's get stupid get weird enjoy the misadventures of a specific au of of Bendy and the Ink Machine where the toons are their own people in a world they still don't entirely understand and the people who love them who try to help them navigate it.

---

Henry was used to a surprising amount of things to interrupt his day first thing in the morning. Easily numbered in the hundreds. His children were toons; there was no end to the amount of crazy nonsense that they could get into when he was asleep, and that was disregarding the fact that Bendy usually slept until noon.

Sure, he was the Troublemaker In Chief. That did not mean the other two were paragons of holiness, no matter how much Alice tried glowing her halo at him while she and her brother gave him the saddest, biggest, shiniest puppy eyes. And that didn't even take into account how much trouble they could find, no mischief intended.

He'd seen smoldering breakfasts, pancakes on the ceiling, saran wrap around the kitchen archway, demonic rubber chicken noises from a saxophone that had a part replaced with the noisemaker from the novelty prank toy...

(He still didn't regret letting Boris chase Bendy for that one without intervening.)

With all that, being immediately accosted by three toons hanging off his legs the second he came down the stairs and all trying to talk to him at the same time did not magically get any easier to withstand.

"Whatever it is, it's a no until I get my coffee," he drawled as he attempted to walk with them hanging off him, the three of them dragged along with him. It was with quite some difficulty that he got to the kitchen counter.

"But Henry!" Bendy whined, "we only got a few hours to get ready if ya say yes! We need every second!"

"For what?" he yawned, pouring a cup from the machine.

"You don't know what day it is?" Alice was surprised enough to actually let go, and she dusted herself off like the lady she was before standing up.

Instantly something cold grabbed Henry's heart and squeezed. "Uh- no I...?"

Had he forgotten someone's birthday? No, it was summertime; Bendy was a winter 'birth' and Boris and Alice were spring and fall. An anniversary of some kind? Quick think what are you forgetting you useless-

"How!?" Bendy gaped at him from down below. "It's been all over the news fer weeks!"

Well okay now he was just thoroughly confused. "I um-"

"The parade, Henry!" Boris's tail was thumping gently against the floor; he was not trying one tiny ounce to hide his eagerness. "The parade that's today!"

"Parade-?" It took just one more nanosecond of thought before it clicked.

"Oh you mean the-!" And they wanted to go to it.

Well, he shouldn't be surprised. This would be the first parade they'd get to see, wouldn't it? And it was nice weather out. And it would be bursting with color, which the toons were darn near obsessed with.

He took a contemplative sip. They weren't human; god even knew if they had any sort of sexuality at all. Could they even feel that stuff? The urge to- do anything like that? Wouldn't that technically make them asexual? That was the word, right?

Well, human or not, that would solidly mean they belonged there. Queer was queer, regardless of species, right? Hell, even if they'd just started asking themselves those questions, or wanted to support the fans of theirs who fell under that giant umbrella, they were valid for being there.

"Sure, I can take you."

Both boys cheered, lifting their arms to do so and releasing his legs. He quickly took a step away from them, but their joy had them leaping to their feet anyway and he watched as they bounced around the kitchen, slowly draining his coffee and trying to curb his smile when he was actively drinking.

It was a hard task.

Their excited chatter melted pleasantly into the background as he took the time to drink and try to shake his brain awake the rest of the way awake like shaking out an old blanket to coax out the wrinkles. Their enthusiasm always made for the perfect background noise.

"What colors do you want?"

"I dunno! There's so many! I don' even know what label I fit in-"

"I saw you checkin' out that guy the other day don't think I didn't!" The wink and nudge from Bendy sent Boris blushing so hard the poor wolf's face turned nearly as black as his fur.

"I was hopin' you hadn't-"

They were all quick to consume breakfast, and Henry retreated upstairs after telling the toons to come get him when they wanted to leave.

He settled comfortably in the limitless, timeless space of art before reality came knocking with Bendy's distinctive tapping at the door, pulling Henry from the space inbetween something and nothing as he set his pen aside. "Come in, kiddo."

When Bendy stepped in with what was unmistakably a rainbow flag on his cheek and extra face paint he knew he was in for a time.

"Oh uh- what's that for-"

"For you!" Bendy said with a giant grin. "Who'd ya think?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah well- I uh-"

Bendy didn't slow down. "Anyway the others are about ready to go but they sent me up here to get your flag on while they finish up- now why they trusted me with the paint I got about as much an idea as you but hey I'm not gonna complain-"

"Aw that's- that's sweet kiddo but I sorta figured I'd just be-" How to say this. "Dropping you off...?"

Immediate confusion. "What? Why?"

"Uh well- I mean-" He fiddled with the pen- when had that ended up back in his hands? "You guys- you have a space there, you know? I'm not sure if I-"

There was now a puckered frown on the little devil's face. "Not sure if you what?"

"Well I mean- I don't exactly- belong, now do I?"

The frown multiplied its intensity by about five. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Aw jeez. He really did not want to discuss this with his kid, as much of an adult as Bendy was. For many reasons. "Uh well- you know-" He gestured, as if hoping that would somehow pluck the answer from the air and implant it in Bendy's brain without having to give voice to it, setting the pen down in the process so he’d stop playing with it. "I'm not exactly- I mean-"

"You like guys." Bendy's voice was so sure that Henry knew making any sort of denial was futile. And also kind of stupid. Why would he deny that to his own son? No of course he wouldn't.

"Well I mean- I married a woman, didn't I?" he finally blurted out.

Unimpressed blinking as he drew closer to stand beside the desk. "Yeah they got a word for that. Several actually. Most popular ones are bi and pan, so which colors is it gonna be?"

"No no I mean-" God he was probably blushing. His face definitely felt way too hot. "I uh- I mean I- I like guys, yes-" great brain thanks a ton totally needed that heart rate spiking why are you acting like that's scary this is our kid- "but I- I married a woman- I like women- more often?"

The blinking was now confused.

"Uh-" How to phrase this. "If- if we split it into a pie chart- it's probably like... thirty-seventy in favor of women?" He ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck again. "I'm- not that I'm any great catch but like, if I was in any way qualified to be in the dating pool again, I'd be way more likely to end up with a lady."

The unimpressed look was back. "And?"

It was Henry's look to be surprised. "And- and that means that, you know- I'm not really-"

"You like guys."

"I- yeah?"

"And you're a guy."

"Kind of a given at this point."

"So you're a guy, and you like guys, and just also happen to like girls too. We got names for that." He gave Henry's shirt an appraising look. "Gotta say the bi colors would complement your clothes best. If you want pan colors I'm gonna have to ask you to change. As your official fashion consultant."

Henry snorted. "My what?"

"Listen Dad I love you but I ain't about to let you walk into that parade wearing like, a pineapple hawaiian shirt or nothin'."

Henry banged a fist lightly on the table and pointed at him. "Liar! You wore the exact same thing just the other day!"

"Yeah but that was to the beach, not a parade."

"Literally when have you ever cared about not being a fashion disaster."

"This time, when Alice'll actually kill me otherwise."

"... Okay you got me there."

Bendy grinned. "So, bi colors or pan colors! Or somethin' else? I think there's other ones too."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then opened it. What the hell. "... Bi colors, I guess."

"Yesssssss I was hopin' you'd say that." He hopped over onto the table like he'd suddenly become a bunny.

"Oh you were, huh?"

"Listen, the pan folks got pretty colors, but I'm always a sucker for a sunset," he said as he pulled out the pallet he needed. Henry sighed and shook his head, the smile ruining his effort to look exasperated.

"Well. Sunset me then, I guess."

"You got it boss!" Bendy said in maybe the worst mafia minion accent known to mankind.

It was barely five minutes of Bendy painting lines carefully on his cheek before he whipped out a mirror.

"Tah-dah!"

Henry blinked at himself in the mirror. He tilted his head, something shifting inside his heart that he had no name for, no way to voice.

The once proud look on Bendy's face was swiftly dropping. "... I didn't mess it up, did I...?"

"No- no, no." Henry tilted his head. "I uh..."

Bendy's worried browlines screamed anxiety to him.

"... I guess I just look good in a sunset," he said quietly, seeing the little corner of his reflection's mouth turn up as if in some sort of hazy dream.

Better than I thought.

[wangisking]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL    NAME  :  Augustus Alexander Wang  NICKNAME  :  August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat  ( by Jack ),  NAME    MEANINGS  : Augustus is  Latin for  the great / the magnificent.  Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king.  HISTORICAL    CONNECTION ?  : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy.   AGE  :  22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way.    BIRTHDAY  :  5th  April ETHNIC    GROUP  :   Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian.  NATIONALITY  :   British LANGUAGES  :   fluent  in  English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP    STATUS  :   Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019.  CLASS  :  Upper  class,  Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy.  HOME    TOWN  /  AREA  :  London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT    HOME  :  Los  Angeles PROFESSION  :   Drummer, songwriter, model, and student.    PHYSICAL. HAIR  :  long  and  wavy.  Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length.    EYES  :  piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses.  NOSE  :   a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE  :  Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example.  LIPS  :  not  full  nor  thin, heart shaped.     COMPLEXION  :  pretty pale. Example is same as the face section.  SCARS  :  one on his chest. TATTOOS  :  a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib.   PIERCINGS:  earlobes HEIGHT  :  6′5″  or  195cm.   BUILD  :  Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two   USUAL  HAIR  STYLE  :  he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe.  USUAL  FACE  LOOK  :  He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes.   USUAL    CLOTHING  :  prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe.      PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS  :  claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone.  ASPIRATIONS  :   he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy.  POSITIVE    TRAITS  :  extremely charismatic, intelligent,  academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful.    NEGATIVE    TRAITS  :  egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it.   MBTI  :  ENTP  (  Ne  dominant,  Ti  auxiliary,  Fe  tertiary,  and  Si  inferior  —  this  means  she  can’t  use  Ni,  Se,  Te,  and  especially  can’t  use  Fi). He  perceives  the  world  by  connecting  dots,  thinking  of  never-ending  possibilities,  looking  for  pieces  of  a  puzzle,  and  finding  meaning  in  abstract.  He  makes  judgments  on  if  what  he  perceives  fits  his  internal  logic.          ZODIAC  :  Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon.  TEMPERAMENT  :  sanguine choleric  ANIMALS  :  parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell.  VICE  :   it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH  :  currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though.     GHOSTS  ?  :  yep.. AFTERLIFE  ?  :   yep REINCARNATION  ?  :  he guesses so. Went  through  it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS  ?  :  hell yeah. POLITICAL    ALIGNMENT  :  liberal. ECONOMIC    PREFERENCE  :   upper class or upper middle class is good with him.  EDUCATION    LEVEL  :   MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER  :  Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants  MOTHER  :  Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased  STEP MOTHER :  Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer.  SIBLINGS  :  Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED    FAMILY  :  he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him.  FAVOURITES. BOOK  :   Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE  :  Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5    SONGS :  All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra     DEITY  :  none.  Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY  :  Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH  :   October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON  :  spring  and  summer. PLACE  :  he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture.  WEATHER  :  cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND  :  drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry.  SCENTS  :  sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES  :  chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food.       FEELS  :   the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair.   ANIMALS  :  cats and dogs. NUMBER  :   8 COLORS  :  white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS  :  he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas.  BAD  AT  :   cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader.  TURN    ONS  :  this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else.  TURN    OFFS  :  literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES  :  playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people.      AESTHETIC  :  crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets.      Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore,   QUOTES  :   it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him.  FC  INFO. MAIN    FC  :  victor han  ALT    FC  :  n/a. OLDER    FC  :  he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER    FC  :  none  yet. VOICE    CLAIM  :  both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN  QUESTIONS. Q1  :    If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what    would  it  be  called ,  what  style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ?    A1 :  The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one.  His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll  expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies.       Q2  :   What would their soundtrack / score sound like  ?     A2  :   He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ?    Q3  :      Why did you start writing this character  ? A3  :    I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head.   Q4  :    What  first  attracted  you  to  this  character  ? A4  :   Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down.  His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful.   Q5  :      Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.  ? A5  :  Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6  :      What    do    you    have    in    common    with    your    muse  ?   A6  :    Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share.  Q7  :      How  does your muse feel about you  ?   A7  :  Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way.  Q8  :      What    characters    does    your    muse    have    interesting    interactions  with  ? A8  :    Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other.  Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone.  Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways  He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida.   Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9  :      What    gives    you    inspiration    to    write    your    muse  ? A9  :  Music  helps  me  imagine  scenes  with  perfect  visual  details.  Any  scenes  from  shows  that  remind  me  of  my  storylines. Q10  :      How    long    did    this    take    you    to    complete  ?   A10  :  I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

[nightshade-minho]

3021: Starless

-(3)-

Warnings: hyunjin being a pervert + shirtless, again. suggestiveness, mentions of knives and weapons.

Word Count: 3k

You woke up in the morning, your eyes opening slowly as your phone rang loudly.

Wait...

For a second, you were confused and scared as you realized you were wrapped in the arms of a half-naked man, who was currently completely still. As last night's events flooded into your brain, you wriggled out of his grasp, sighing when you noticed the way his blinker was red.

You tried to pull Hyunjin up, but it was difficult. Somehow, you managed to drag him into your bed room, throwing him on the bed before plugging him into your bedside charger. It definitely didn't have the ability to power him up completely...but it would do for now. You couldn't afford a proper charger, which is why you usually went to Jisung's workshop. Soon, you reminded yourself.

The phone was still ringing as you went back into the living room. You grabbed it and lifted it to your ear, without looking at the caller ID.

"Who is this?" You asked crankily, rubbing your forehead.

"It's Jisung. Y/n, where are you? I've been looking everywhere."

"What are you talking abou-" You stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening a little as they shot to the clock on the wall. Fuck.

"Oh shit- I completely forgot to set an alarm last night. I'll be there in a few minutes, Sung-"

You heard a sigh on the other side of the phone as you cut the call, rushing into your room to pull the wardrobe open, pulling off your shirt and bra as you dug through the drawer to find clothes that would be suitable for combat.

"I like your bra~"

You yelped, covering your chest with both hands as you turned to see Hyunjin, eyes half-open as he lazily fixed his gaze on your pink bra that lay on the floor.

"The fuck- did they program you to be a perv?" You snapped. "Close your fucking eyes."

He shrugged, doing so as he turned over to face the wall.

You made sure he wasn't looking before quickly pulling on your clothes.

After that, you went over to your bedside drawer to take your knives, tucking them into your boot and sleeves. "Listen, don't open the door for anyone while I'm gone, okay? We really can't afford to get caught. It would be fucking disastrous."

He nodded, snuggling into your pillow. "Yeah, yeah. I know all that."

You sighed. "Okay, I'm going to leave now. I'll be back soon."

He turned around a little, smiling. "Remember, becoming a Phantom would actually be really helpful as far as our mission goes. You have to be your best today, or the whole plan could fall through."

"So, no pressure then." You rolled your eyes. "We don't even have a plan yet."

"Well, I'm kind of making one in my head. Remember, we have to have a talk once you get home. Now, good luck!~"

You let yourself give him a small smile, shaking your head. "Bye."

The big grey building loomed ahead of you. You felt your heart beat fast as you walked towards it, knowing the events that were about to transpire would change your life as you knew it.

As you walked closer, you narrowed your eyes in slight confusion. There were a few people milling about in front of the doors, and a man in a black suit who seemed to be collecting signatures and letting them in, one by one.

You'd been expecting crowds and crowds of people, not this. You sighed, reminding yourself that this was a good thing. This meant the chance of you getting in was more likely, as were the chances of you avoiding embarrassment in front of a huge crowd.

As you reached, your eyes quickly picked up on Jisung's form. The boy was standing near the door, biting his nails as he repeatedly scanned the small crowd for you. In a second, Jisung's eyes fell on you, and he let out a visible sigh of relief.

"There you are!" He groaned as you came closer, grabbing your wrist. "Come on, we have to sign up. Have you got everything?"

"Yep. Don't worry." You regarded the other people with disinterest. "I've got this in the bag."

"Hmm, I'm sure. You're the last one to arrive, Y/n." He said, his expression disgruntled as he glanced around quickly before leaning in slightly closer. "How's pretty boy? Or should I say pretty bot?" He hissed in your ear.

You winced, glaring at him as you moved forward. "He's fine. Sleeping." You explained, as the suited man held up the clipboard and a pen. You raised an eyebrow as you took it, signing your name on the paper. Paper. You hadn't seen paper since...well, since you were born.

As he let you in, Jisung moved to follow you but was stopped by the man, who held an arm out.

"Are you participating in the Phantom trials today?" He asked in a low voice.

"Um, well no- but I'm with her," Jisung explained, causing the man to shake his head firmly.

"You can wait out here. She'll be back soon."

"But- I want to be there for moral support!" He protested, annoyance rising in him as the man refused to budge.

"She won't be needing that." He assured, turning to you and flicking his thumb. 

You paused, shooting an apologetic smile at Jisung, who sighed and backed away, but not before sending one last glare at the man.

He turned to look at you, handing you a small slip of pink paper from a nearby table. "Here. Give this to your trialtaker. Down the hall, third room on the left." He said.

You nodded, muttering a thank you before taking the slip and walking down the clean hallway as you made your way to the room. You caught a whiff of seafoam as you inhaled deeply, the scent calming you slightly.

You stopped in front of the door, psyching yourself up. This was it. Slowly, you brought your hand up to knock.

A minute later, the door slowly creaked open, and you were greeted with the sight of a robot. It was way shorter than you, and reminded you of that character from that ancient movie that was somehow still popular- Wall-E. You smiled slightly as you remembered watching the classic with Jisung, on a small neodisk his father had saved up to buy.

The robot made a sound like it was clearing its throat, snapping you back to attention.

"Are you Ms. L/n Y/n?"

"Uh, yes. That's me."

"Registration number?"

"Uh..." You unfolded the pink paper, reading out the long number to the robot, whose eyes turned green as it processed and recorded your information.

"Please wait here, Ms L/n. Your supervisor will be here shortly."

You nodded as the robot rolled away, sighing as you went over to take a seat on one of the chairs. You absently fiddled with the knives tucked in your belt as you tapped your foot.

You hated waiting. Letting out a grunt of frustration, you stood up and started pacing the room, your heart beating as you went over all you had learnt in your brain. You mentally rehearsed every fighting technique as you heard the robotic whirring again.

The robot dropped a few papers on the table. "Please fill out this questionnaire."

You frowned slowly, sitting down and lifting up a page. "Wow...this is long. Um, I thought these were physical trials, not a written test-"

"The physical part of the trial will commence once your supervisor arrives. For now, please answer each question accurately, miss. When you're done, please press the green button."

You looked back down at the papers as the robot left again, sighing as you scanned the questions.

Some of the questions made sense- like "Are you physically trained in martial arts?" and "How long have you been training?". However, some others, like "Have you abstained from sexual activities thus far?" definitely didn't. You scoffed as you began filling it out, wondering why the government wanted to know if you were a virgin or not.

The darn thing was way too long. By the time you were finally done, you groaned and sat up, pressing the button embedded on the table after taking a split second to make sure your name was spelled right.

You sat back, waiting for your supervisor to show up. A few too many moments later, the door finally swung open.

"Good morning, miss- Y/n!?"

You looked up, eyes widening as you saw none other than Minho, standing in the doorway with his clipboard in hand. Wait- he was your supervisor?

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyebrow raised as he shut the door behind him.

"I'm trying out to be a Phantom. I thought I told you this. The real question here is, what are you doing here?"

"I'm your supervisor." He explained, his surprised expression slowly melting away as he let out a small chuckle.

"You? You work for the government?" You asked incredulously. In all the time you'd known him, you realized you'd never once asked him what he did for a living. In fact, you didn't really know much about his background in general.

"Yeah...you could say that. Why's that so hard to believe?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I...don't know." Minho had never exactly been a law-abiding citizen, (the two of you usually met way after curfew) which is why his choice of profession had admittedly shocked you a little bit.

"Hm. Anyway." He shook his head, moving past you. "Let’s get to business. Follow me."

You nodded and followed him as he opened the door, walking back out into the hallway. He went further down until the two of you reached a big grey door, stopping abruptly and turning to you.

"Here we are." Minho used one hand to shove the door open, and you cautiously stepped in after him.

The room was smaller than you'd expected. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted grey- despite the lightbulb hanging above you, the space was pretty dim. You had to squint to see Minho as he sat down on a lone chair in the corner of the room, clicking his pen and positioning it over his clipboard.

"See that target over on the other side of the room? Hit the bullseye. You may choose your preferred weapon of choice from that table." He gestured to said table, an array of weapons spread out on top. You grimaced, slipping out a knife from your boot and twirling it.

"I brought my own."

"Oh...that's actually not allowed." Minho said nonchalantly. " I know neither of us are big on rules though, so I'll let it pass."

You grinned, turning around and facing the target. Lifting your arm, you quickly swung it at the target, hitting it dead center.

Minho looked up, grinning as he saw your knife, stuck in the center. "Good, you passed the Precision Test." He opened his mouth to say more, stopping as his earpiece spoke. Holding a finger up, Minho frowned as he nodded, sighing.

He sat up, shaking his head. "Actually, that's about it. Now you just need to sign some documents, and we'll give you your badge a-"

"Wait-" you frowned, confusion filling you up as you stared at him. "That's it? All I had to do was hit a target? I could do that with my eyes closed!" You'd been expecting so much more than this. A crowd watching as you demonstrated your skill set, maybe some raucous cheers as you defeated simulated opponents and truly proved yourself to be worthy. This was extremely underwhelming.

"Well, what can I say." He shrugged. "A lot less people showed up than we expected, so we had to cut short the trials. I think we’re going to have to hire everyone who came, actually." He stretched, getting up and walking up to you.

He thrust the clipboard in front of you, pointing to a dotted line. "Sign here."

You sighed and took the pen from him, scribbling your name onto it. Briefly, you wondered why they were using so much paper. Maybe because written documents can't be hacked...

Minho walked you out the building. "Be here tomorrow morning at 9 am. We'll equip you with a badge, your uniform and weapons of your choice." He smiled. "Welcome to the Phantoms."

"The Phantoms? That lowkey sounds like a lame pseudo-punk band from 2090." You wrinkled your nose, but you were unable to keep the happiness from flooding your voice. "When...when do we collect our first cheque?"

"For each Zenx you kill, there's a certain amount of crescents you'll earn. It's a generous amount." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Sounds good." You smiled. There was an awkward silence for a bit as the two of you thought of what to say next. This was the weirdest interaction you’d had with him till now. He hadn’t flirted once. Who was this Minho?

"Anyway...I'll be off now. Thanks, Minho."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Bye! See you tomorrow."

You nodded, pressing your lips together as you waved at him, turning to walk away.

You stopped in your tracks as you heard him call out. "Hey...Y/n?"

You turned around. "Yes?"

"Um...I was actually wondering if you would..." He cleared his throat. "...go on a date with me." He blurted out, cheeks pinking slightly.

Your eyes widened as you processed his question. For a minute, you thought about it. He was attractive, witty and seemed to be a genuine guy. What did you really have to lose?

"Sure."

"Wait- really?" Minho said in disbelief, before he felt the giddiness slowly rising in him. "You won't regret it, I promise."

You giggled softly as he uttered the words, his tone laced with excitement. It was actually kinda cute to see his cool frontier crashing in front of you. You found yourself wanting to see more of this Minho.

Rain. Your fucking arch-nemesis.

You groaned as you ran a hand through your slightly damp hair, unlocking the keys to your apartment in a hurry as you held your neodisk with the other, Jisung's voice still loudly talking through it.

"That's why I left, I remembered Dad was alone and didn't have anyone to feed him so I-"

"Yeah, I understand, Sung. I was just a little worried when I couldn't find you anywhere near the building." You paused, finally managing to get the door open.

"Also, you'll never believe what happened.." As you walked in, you noted Hyunjin was nowhere to be found. Worry growing in you, you peeked into your bedroom, eyes falling on your rumpled, but empty bed.

Confused, you turned around- only to find yourself face to face (or rather face to chest) with a shirtless Hyunjin. Again. There were water droplets running down his pecs, disappearing into his sweatpants- which you noticed he had stolen from your drawers. They were way too tight for him. Way. Too. Tight.

"Um, Sung, I'll have to call you back." You gulped, cutting the call and tucking the neodisk into your pocket.

"Hey, Y/n. How'd it go?"

"I-I got accepted." You cleared your throat, unable to tear your eyes away from his body. "Did- did you take a shower?"

His eyes widened as he grabbed onto both your shoulders, a grin breaking out on his face as he ignored your last question. "Woah, really? That's great!"

"Aren't showers supposed to-"

"I'm waterproof, babe. You forget that I'm the most advanced android on this planet. I'm no different from you humans, really. Now, tell me how it went!"

"It was actually very uneventful." You grimaced, as Hyunjin looked you up and down.

He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed how wet your hair was. "Wow. Is it raining outside? I didn't even notice." His eyes travelled downwards, resting on your chest.

"Wow. That top is really see-through."

You turned red, glaring and shoving past him as you covered your chest with an arm.

"Fuck off, you lecherous shit." You glanced at him. "I'm going to take a shower. Sit your ass down on the couch and entertain yourself however you like. I'll be back."

He smirked, tilting his head. "Sure you don't want me to join you? I certainly wouldn't mind getting...wet again, if you know what I mean."

You let out an incredulous snort, slamming the door in his face. Hyunjin laughed inwardly, walking away and flopping onto the couch.

There was something about you...he just couldn't help himself. All he knew was, life at your apartment was proving to be extremely enjoyable thus far. He hummed as he stared at your wallscreen, mentally changing the channel to find one he liked. 

“Buy the best neodisks on sale at-”

“No, don’t leave me, Kevin! I have loved you for-”

“Dr. Shirai Isamu expresses severe regret as the royal-”

“The weather reports for-”

Wait. 

Hyunjin frowned, switching the channel back to the news.

His face was onscreen as the reporter rambled away. He hadn’t expected them to find out so soon. Fuck, this was bad. He jolted back to attention as he saw the prince’s face on the screen.

“...the dead driver was likely murdered, and the royal android kidnapped. Experts are still working at the scene, and a team of our highest androids have been put on the case.” He assured. “Civilian tips will be highly appreciated. Please don’t hesitate to contact the palace.” 

Hyunjin looked down at his lap, frowning. He made a sound of frustration and went over to your tiny balcony, his arms on the railing as he stared at the night sky. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed a flash of red and purple. His eyes shot towards it...but there was nothing there. Frowning, he shook his head. The sudden stress was probably making him go crazy. I just got my freedom. I’m not losing it anytime soon.

Shaking his head, he went back inside...completely unaware that he was being watched.