I feel like everyone on Tumblr is pro Lestat and anti Louis and everyone on Twitter is pro Louis (and Claudia) and anti Lestat 🤕

And I know that’s not necessarily true but god it definitely feels this way.. can’t praise Lestat on Twitter without getting called a white supremacist, and I can’t go three minutes on Tumblr without seeing someone downplay Louis’s trauma… it’s sad for me!

I saw someone on twitter discussing Rhaegar, and other problematic elements of the series, and they basically said GRRM had no idea what trash Rhaegar was in the 90s when he first came up with the character but he probably is now aware of how awful literally everyone (except the targ stans) think Rhaegar is so when/if he ever gets to the part of the series where Martin explains the relationship he will have to do some serious damage control to 'fix' R/L.

They also said, which I fully agree with, that because he's taken 30 years to finish this series, social mores and cultural norms have shifted so much that a lot of plot points and characterizations he was probably planning are now deeply, deeply problematic whereas back in the 90s, the fantasy-reader audience the books were originally marketed towards would not have cared. Like you said, the post-me too era has brought forth a lot more awareness about grooming, age gaps, power imbalances, etc. I definitely think one of the reasons its difficult to finish the series is because GRRM is now aware of certain plot points he has been planning no longer being palatable and knowing he would get crucified for if he went forward with them. Like San/san was definitely something that was meant to be more romantic or sexual but the ages of the characters, lack of five year gap, and knowing people would rage at him if he made San/san canon in anyway means that romantic ship is over imo lol. Sa/ndor's love for Sa/nsa will be a lot more platonic and self-sacrificial going forward as opposed to romantic undertones.

For R/L though, I do wonder if GRRM telling HOTD writers to include the ice and fire prophecy in the show means that he will lean way more heavily into 'Well, ackshually, Rhaegar was saving the world it wasn't about wanting to fuck a teen he became infatuated with. Also, Elia was chill with it because Dornish(tm).' Basically, I can see Martin leaning way more heavily toward Rhaegar doing what he did to save humanity versus him not being able to keep it in his pants. But we'll see if/when the series is ever completed, which is a big if.

Sorry this is so long I'm putting it underneath:

I do agree that Martin came up with this series in the 90s and did not expect it to become such a cultural landmark. I am not sure he agrees Rhaegar is "awful" as Martin has said and done things within his book series that make me believe he does not see much wrong with a 16 year old running off with a 23 year old. I do think he always intended to add the magically bits in the story with Rhaegar and Lyanna but that they were suppose to be look at as the human incarnations of Ice and Fire and Jon being the offspring of that magic.

And even if Martin did realize after much discussion how problematic the Lyanna and Rhaegar situation is I don't think he would change it. The unfortunate truth is they are fundamental to the story. Not in a way where we need to see them, but they are similar to Paris and Helen. Without their actions the story doesn't exist, and without Rhaegar and Lyanna running off the story does not happen. Our world is reset.

And the book has expanded so much, including a list of characters Martin never intended for us to see, that it makes us really resent both Lyanna and Rhaegar as readers. All the while the narrative itself does not seem to be aware of how horrible the actions of them (especially Rhaegar) is. Adding the Aegon storyline in the book and if he doesn't turn out to be a fake and does end up dead and Jon ends up somehow having a "happy" ending it feels super insulting to Elia and the rest of the characters who suffered due to Rhaegar and Lyanna's actions.

The inclusion of the Ice and Fire prophecy in HOTD had nothing to do with Martin and more to do with the HOTD writers wanting to include a reason for why Viserys was choosing Rhaenyra. In the books Viserys is just a shitty king and has no reason at all for not naming Aegon after his birth. In the show it's hinted he believes the Ice and Fire prophecy would only be fulfilled under Rhaenyra's line.

As for what Martin will do with Elia, I really am not sure but he has said he will make it "complicated". I tend to think he wouldn't make Elia "okay" with it but he might have a situation where Elia believes her son is the Prince that was Promised and wants him to have his "Visenya". But I'm not sold on that just because I don't think Rhaegar would use Lyanna to get a Visenya, he would likely assume the child from Lyanna was the Prince that was Promised simply because of the "ice" connection.

But on the topic of why Martin hasn't finished the series. I have several thoughts:

 First, he's written himself into a nightmare. If you read A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons, they are interesting but they expand the plot in a way I've never seen done before. For any type of novel. He has multiple POVs with incredibly complex and interesting storylines, most of which aren't connected to the main plot. I don't know how he's going to handle closing all of those storylines within two books. I love Feast and Dance so much but as a writer I cannot image having to close all of those storylines.

Second, GOT took up so much time. In the first years GOT was airing Martin did a lot of media for the show, cons, and even wrote a whole episode up until season 5. That's a lot of work and it doesn't leave a lot of time to write and complete the story. Also once it became clear Martin wouldn't even complete Winds before the show closed I don't think he had the same motivation to write faster. Why not take his time? Plus D&D had clearly branched out from all the book storylines by season 4.

Third, the reaction to the ending of GOT (which were his intended endings) must have hurt. I cannot image a world where you as the writer of this series see people reacting so poorly to your intended ending (even if D&D butchered it) would not feel at least disappointment. People hated Villain Dany and her death (does matter if I love fallen Dany) and I 100% believe he's going there in the next book. He might be worried or concerned about the reaction. Martin has admitted that seeing fans discuss the series and figuring out things have made him want to change course. And that was back when the series was limited to forum discussions online. He had major news outlets discussing how "awful" Dany's ending was. That likely affected him and his writing.

Welcome To The Madhouse

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: feminisation, propositioning, daddy kink, implied future smut, power imbalance, debts owed/paid, age gap, no power au shrinkyclinks

Relationship: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Art Student!Steve Rogers

A/N: the Stucky content nobody asked me for, but this is what you're getting.

This work has Adult Content. By clicking “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content. My work is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform. I have discontinued my taglist - follow @slothspaghettilibrary to be notified of when I post.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, a shaky sigh rattling his chest. He can feel the other men in the cell staring at him. And he knew their staring was because he's dressed for work - striking eyeliner and sparkly lip gloss making his features look even bigger, more feminine, more vulnerable. Under his jeans and hoodie was the skin tight corset, the ridiculous uniform he wore every night because when you're desperate for cash you don't complain about demeaning work at gentlemen's clubs. You suck it up, tuck your junk, and let handsy, wealthy men stuff twenties in your stockings while you serve them drinks.

He shouldn't have done this today. The protest had been for defunding the police for Christ's sake. That alone should scream to him T-R-O-U-B-L-E, but Nat and Clint had gotten him all fired up about it. He had to make his voice heard, he can't just run from a fight like that. Within in ten minute of them arriving outside the state court house, they were handcuffed and dragged off. And Steve being Steve had resisted, stomped and shoved, and now he stewing.

"Can I get my inhaler please?" He shouted, head falling back against the cement brick wall.

The few officers loitering in the bullpen ignored him, continued their quiet conversation and paper work. Steve pushed his hair off his forehead before he shoved his hand into his pocket. He stared at nothing particular ahead of him, eyes tracing the scribbled and scratched graffiti on the opposite wall.

He shouldn't have called his boss to bail him out. The card had been weighing down the pocket of his jacket for weeks now. It had been his first interaction with James, a tall and ominous man who owned the club and seemed to always be shrouded in darkness when Steve was the server he requested for the night. A request that was becoming more and more frequent. Nat told him Winter's Retreat wasn't a place for good people, but Steve didn't listen, because Steve never really listens to sense and student discounts don't really apply at the pharmacy.

The police station went deadly silent as the elevator opened. Steve had to force his eyes to refocus, blinking hard in hopes it made his contacts burn less. He turned to see what had caused such an scene to silence a whole damn police station and saw James standing next to Captain Wilson. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to think about why his cheeks felt hot.

He's never seen James in the light of day, if you'd asked him five minutes ago he would have said the man was some kinda vampire.

"Oh Stevie, Stevie, Stevie," he tsked, voice ringing out in the large room as he followed the captain to the holding cell. "What am I gonna do with you?"

It's the most cheerful James had ever sounds. His tone dripped with condescension and wickedness. Like he was enjoying this.

"Rogers you're free to go, sorry for the inconvenience." Wilson said, unlocking the gate and waiting for him to shuffle out.

"And it won't happen again, always a pleasure Samuel," James wrapped a ringed hand around the back of Steve's neck and started guiding him towards the elevator.

He could still hear the older man scoffing, shouting for everyone to get the fuck back to work. James's hand didn't leave the back of his neck the whole way to the sleek black town car. Steve felt his breathing pick up, the weight of it only making his skin burn hotter. James pulls something from his pocket and gives it to him. Steve's inhaler, graffiti and initials all there to let everyone in view know what kind of person he was. He took a deep inhale, holding the trigger down as the medicated spray eased the pain in his chest and lungs.

"Thanks," he choked, trying to still hold his breath so it took.

"Oh Stevie, don't thank me yet," James guided, nearly forced, him into the back seat of the car.

He gulped, jail made him a bit nervous sure but this felt like something bigger, like Steve was either gonna live to tell this tale to Natasha the next time they had brunch or he was gonna die. Steve fisted his looses jeans, refused to look where the car was now taking them. Maybe James was talking, he wasn't really sure, hyperfixating on the weave of denim his finger nails were trying to tear apart rather than listening. This happened sometimes, stress taking over Steve and not allowing him to be present. He just needed to calm down and it would all be better.

The car stopped, gliding into a spacious parking spot right outside a massive house in Brooklyn. Steve recognised the neighborhood, a place he sometimes went to for Instagram pics with Natasha when Clint is busy. A cafe a few blocks over does the best vegan donuts Steve's ever had.

"C'mon baby, outta the car."

Steve flushed a deep red under the endearment. This was not a healthy mindset. He needed to collect himself and think rationally. There was clearly a way to get out of this, one that involved no injuries and a payment plan. James was a business man, surely he'd just let Steve pay him back in a reasonable time frame. He followed the older man into the lavish house, opulent wasn't the right word for it but that was what all Steve could grasp on to at the moment.

They entered a study - a large wooden desk, winged back chairs, bookshelves all the way up the high ceilings, art - it all revealed a man with old school values and money. Steve sat gingerly in one of the chairs facing the desk, back ramrod straight.

"I'll pay ya back," Steve rushed the words out, pushing them into this conversation as soon as possible. "Just tell me how much and I'll work until it's all paid off."

James looked at him over his shoulder from where was mixing a drink at the small cart. A smirk settled on his lips before he took a sip of the amber liquid. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, the low lighting catching a glint on one of his many rings, and sat down in his chair. James spread his thick thighs just like he did at the club on nights when he was settling in for a long one. The cut of Steve's uniform, the way it squeezed his ass and dug lines into his hip bones suddenly reminded Steve of how used he was wearing less around James and feeling more covered then. How in this situation he felt nearly stripped bare by the way James looked at him.

Everything about this situation had Steve about to bolt for the door, dye his hair and change his name. It's playing out like a horrible mafia movie, but he couldn't seem to get the lead out of his shoes until James pat his thigh. Then he was able to move, trudging through the muck of his brain and every sense in him telling this was a bad idea. Once he's in arms reach, James pulled right down on to his lap, Steve's knees brushing the inseam of his boss's trousers.

"What if I don't want a trouble maker like you working at my club? What then baby?"

It was like the car ride all over again but this time so much more personal. Steve could smell the whiskey on his breath, could feel the relaxing heat from his body rolling off of James. He took a steadying breath.

"I'll get another job, and give you the cash."

"I'm not sure cash is gonna cut it Stevie, I had to pull some big favours to make sure Captain Wilson didn't charge you with assaulting an officer of the law."

"What else could you possibly want from me?"

Steve was seething, humiliation burning in his belly. He was not going to just do it. Since he'd started working he'd been propositioned enough. Plenty of old men don't always realise he was in fact a man until he told them no. Steve knew what James was asking him to do, hated how much he wanted to do it despite every moral bone in his body telling him not too. Who knows how many of the girls at the club he's done this to? Maybe this was James whole schtick, doing favour for people down on their luck and getting a power trip outta make them return his sexual advances.

Well if he wanted that from Steve, he was gonna have to fucking say it out loud.

"Oh I've got a list things I want from you Stevie, but first," James paused to take a sip of drink, the crystal glass and rings and thick fingers all capturing Steve's attention more than he wanted to admit. James's free hand smoothly rubbed up Steve's back, teases the taught muscles before sliding back to the edge of his sweatshirt, playing with the hem. "I wanna see what those pretty lips of yours can do. Let me cum in that smart mouth of yours, then we can go dinner so I can show just how nice it's gonna be for you from now on."

Steve slipped off his lap before he could really think. He knew he should have said no, nearly every part of his brain was shouting at him that this was a bad idea. But the stupid part, the one that never answers when common sense was knocking at the door, was telling him this was everything he wanted but wouldn't admit to.

The idea of being kept, owned thoroughly by someone capable of taking care of him and his needs. A weight would be lifted off his soul and mind and body. At this point some time on his knees praying and worshipping something would probably do him some good.

"What do you say, baby?"

James's voice was laced with smug condescension, licking the flames of humiliation and arousal burning away all of Steve's good sense. He responded the only way he could think.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  

So he’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah���” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 

“Why do you like me so much?” 

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

“... Alright, I won’t.” 

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 

Heyyy. With all this supposed romantic jealousy and like you said ‘dick measuring’ game that Nick and Rio are playing, I think about the scene in the car after Beth got Rio arrested and Nick got him out. Rio said: “so what do you want to do about [Beth?] and Nick said “not what you want to do.” This scene makes it seem like they have a plan that they’re BOTH in on to deal with Beth. I’m at first I thought they were playing good cop/bad cop (I still think they are) but now Rio is clearly uncomfortable with Nick’s plan. What the fuck is going on because I am confused?

Also do you think the dynamic between Nick and Rio will become clearer by the finale? They seem to have a very complex relationship and wow, who would have thought utilising one of your best and most underused character that LITERALLY DRIVES THE WHOLE MAIN PLOT would make the show interesting again 🤔

Hi, doll! Ok, you’re gonna have to bear with me because my brain is messy at the best of times and I’ve had a non stop headache since yesterday morning, so making sense of my thoughts is hella difficult right now lol. I’m just gonna break this up into sections to help me keep track of everything!

P.s. I’m sorry this got long 🥴

Rio and Nick’s dynamic

So, from what we’ve seen so far, Nick is extremely narcissistic, manipulative, and selfish. In my opinion, he doesn’t really seem to have a very strong sense of self or morality, he just becomes whoever he needs to, in order to achieve the goal at hand. Whether it’s kissing ass at the golf club, playing politics, or having Rio thrown in jail/beaten with a stool. He’s always thinking about the long game, always about the bigger picture, he likes to use every situation/person to his advantage. He seems to have some sort of resentment and/or jealousy towards Rio and that comes out a lot in his desire to take from Rio. He took his dreams of being a boxing a boxer, his freedom, trivial stuff like the burger and the basketball. I also think he wants to take Beth but they’ve not made it clear in what capacity he wants to take her. Whether it’s because he’s clocked that Rio has/had genuine feelings for her, or because he thinks Beth is a business asset. Either way, he sees that Beth is a sore spot and he’s going to keep pushing as a way to exert power and feel like a man.

Rio, on the other hand, likes to see immediate results, and he can be pretty impulsive. He’s also very self-assured, he is who he is and he doesn’t change that for anyone. He literally has a giant tattoo across his throat which he displays proudly because he doesn’t care how anyone else sees him. But he has a natural charm and charisma that he can use when he needs it, without having to become a completely different person. I think he’s a very emotional person, regardless of how much he tries to hide it, which can make him pretty reactive to situations – see: basically every interaction with Beth.

They’re wildly different people and this would cause conflict in itself because they immediately want to handle situations differently, like with Annie being kidnapped. The girls owed him money, Rio was mad about it, and he wanted an immediate resolution to that problem, whereas Nick didn’t care so much about the short-term financial issues, in comparison to the long-term benefit to him of keeping Beth onside. Within their organisation, the structure is still kinda murky because he doesn’t seem to be the boss, but then he does and ehhh. Supposedly Rio handles all the illicit stuff and then Nick pushes through city contracts to shell corporations he owns and also makes money from that, as well as keeping Rio out of jail. The actual power imbalance between them still irks me because Nick is literally a councilman. He has no real clout. There’s no reason for him to have such a hold over Rio, especially when Rio knows exactly what Nick is and he also knows that Nick wouldn’t have dick without him. But I digress.

The conversation in the car

I definitely think that conversation is very relevant to what’s happening with Beth right now. In that moment, I think Rio wanted revenge, plain and simple but he was also thinking long term. I don’t think he was planning on going out to kill her, but that’s where Nick’s mind went because he severely underestimates how much of a “big picture guy” Rio can be hence telling Rio, “not what you want to do”. Presumably, there would’ve been a discussion between them off screen where Nick decided exactly what was going to happen and how they were going to use her. My guess is that going forward they were basically going to play a game of ‘good cop bad cop’. Nick offers himself up as the friendly local councilman, shows concern for Beth, helps her etc, while Rio is more menacing than ever. Rio is reluctantly going along with this plan because of the stupid power imbalance, but I think he’s got something up his sleeve. I think the discomfort we’re seeing from Rio stems from their difference in opinion on how to handle Beth, Rio chafing under Nick’s control and also the resentment Rio holds because of Nick’s constant routine of taking what’s his. I kinda spoke about it in this post.

Last time Beth got Rio arrested, he shot Dean - he’s not shy when it comes to payback. Typically, he’s always quite reactive to situations and that can (has) come to bite him in the ass but he knows this. He was there. He knows that every time he pushes Beth, she pushes back with equal force, so he needs to immobilise her. While Nick just wants to use Beth to benefit himself financially, by using her to push through contracts for shell corporations etc, I think Rio wanted to kill two birds with one stone. He can use Beth as a shield for his business and make money off her, then later on, I think he probably wants to use her to get rid of Nick and potentially let Beth go down with him as payback for her betrayal (at least, I think that was his original plan but he may soften to her and end up forming an alliance once Nick is out of the picture).

Romantic Jealousy?

As for the jealousy, it’s still not the word I’d choose to describe Rio. It probably fits, to a degree, but I always associate it with pettiness and wanting stuff you don’t have - i.e. Nick. With Rio, it feels more possessive over what he already has because he knows Nick wants to take it. This now extends to Beth because she was and is his, at least in a business sense. I don’t think he’s ever been particularly jealous of her in their personal relationship because neither of them ever truly gave into whatever it was. In business, she worked for him, she answered to him, if she needed help – she came to him, and he’s created that dynamic with Beth by keeping her isolated from his wider organisation. He was effectively trying to mentor her and make her in his image. Now, Nick comes along and suddenly Beth’s going to Nick for help, Beth’s doing what Nick says, and she’s looking to Nick as a mentor. So, once again, Nick is taking what belongs to Rio. That’s why I think he reacted the way he did in the strip club. He realised that he was about to lose to Nick again, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen, so he pulled out the ol’ carrot and stick. He took her money away as a punishment, made her think on her feet, and then rewarded her for a job well done. He showed her that she doesn’t need Nick because then Nick has no hold over her. He’s showing Beth that she can get shit done on her own, but also reminding her that he essentially made her what she is. He taught her. He believed in her. He asked her what she gained from being on the city council and doing what Nick tells her, knowing full well she gets fuck all out of it because he knows Nick. Then he gave her a reward to make ‘team Rio’ all the more appealing. Yes, there could well be some romantic feelings under that but I don’t think that’s what’s driving Rio right now. I think this is firmly about him and Nick, while Beth has become another toy for them to fight over.

Can I please request yandere jin where he is like a nerd at school and nobody really notices him until the reader does, so he become real clingy with the reader🥴🤙

The Nerd And His Queen

HighSchool was always hard. Weather it was from the homework, your classes, or the social standing you’re put in, it’s hard. That was no different for Jin, a young man who was just trying to get by with everyone passing his way not realizing he was a class mate.

And that was no difference for (Y/n), a young girl whom everyone seemed to know and like. They were so different, and never would have really even been thought to cross paths. But here they were sitting together in chemistry.

“You’re Seokjin, right?,” She ask with a soft smile. He looks over to her and his eyes are big for a second, before he removes his pencil from his mouth.

“Uh! Um yeah, that’s me,” He says and she smile nodding, “Want to be partners for the projects?,” She ask and he nods, “Yeah...if you really want to,” He says offer a slight smile. “Okay! Here, here’s my number, class is almost over so we should hangout after school and get started,” She says writing her number on his note book.

Just then the bell rings, and she stands putting her backpack on, “Remember, message me and we’ll start today!,” She says with a smile before she walks out of the class. Jin just sits there for a second looking at the notebook before, he packs his things up and leaves.

-

-

-

‘What if it’s a trap... is she’s gonna make a joke out of me’ he thinks as he sits on his bed having just gotten out of the shower. The number was already typed into his phone, but he wasn’t sure he should send a message.

“Fuck it,” He says out load as he starts to type out his message. He sends it without looking, and within sends of his sending it there’s a ding, telling him someone has replied.

(Y/n)- JIN, I hope you don’t mind if I call you that. BUT JIN YOU FINALLY MESSAGED ME, I didn’t take you for a busy guy after school. What did you do after school?

Jin- Sure, I don’t mind. I work at my dads company after school, so I don’t really have time for after school stuff on the weekdays, except Friday.

(Y/n)- Ah okay, that’s pretty cool! So would you be okay to hangout and work on the project this Friday then?

Jin- Yeah that’s okay.

(Y/n)- Okay, hey can I get a picture of you for your contact photo?

Jin- um sure, one sec

He moves quickly from his bed to throw on a hoobie to cover up his bare chest before he takes a deep breath, and takes a pose snapping a few pictures.

Jin- Here you go

He watches the three small dots on the screen tell him you’re typing. His heart starts to pick up pace a little as he waits, “Why am I so worried,” He ask before his phone dings.

(Y/n)- Oh~ that hoodie looks comfy. Thank you so much here’s one for me. I’ll leave you alone for the night. See you in class tomorrow, and sweet dreams!

-Image attached

Jin looked down at the photo of her and he smiles slightly at seeing the small grey bags under her eyes. “She must have taken off some makeup, she normally looks so well rested,” He says as he puts it as her ID photo.

-

-

-

“Jin, what is this?,” She ask as she leans over and points at a question on her paper, “It’s a chemical imbalance,” He says, “Yeah, but why... everything looks fine,” She says and he chuckles, “No, here watch,” He says as he starts to explain the answer, and show her how to figure everything out.

“How are you this smart man,” She says with a grumpy face, “I thought chemistry was supposed to be easy!,” She says, “It’s okay, not everyone understands it,” He says with a smile, “Guess that means you’re not like everyone then,” She says and his face turns red for a second causing her to giggle.

“Want to hangout after school today and finish the project? That is if you have time,” She ask, and he nods, “Yeah, we can go to my house after school if that’s okay,” He says and she nods.

-

-

-

“Let’s go there, I’m a bit hungry, aren’t you?,” She ask as her and Jin walk side by side down the street away from the school yard, “Yeah, I could go for a bite,” He says and they start their walk towards the small café just insight of the school.

Once they get their they make their wa towards the front, “Hi could I get one Vanilla bean Frappe, with two shots of hazelnut, and a chocolate drizzle. As well as a chocolate muffin, and a chicken sandwich. Oh and whatever he wants,” She says stepping aside allowing Jin to make his order while she looked for her wallet in her backpack. “Hi um could I get a vanilla ice coffee with a caramel drizzle, and um, a chicken sandwich as well,” He says and the cashier nods.

“That’ll be 17.93$ please,” The cashier says, and (Y/n) nods stepping forward handing the cashier her card. “(Y/n) go ahead and find a seat I’ll wait for our stuff to be done, and then bring it over,” Jin says and she nods stepping away from the counter to find a stop in the corner away from everyone.

Jin watches her with soft eyes, and as she seems to stop paying attention to those around her her smile drops. Her once happy, bright face seems to disappear, only to be replaced with a tired and sad look. Jin looks at her with a sad face before he grabs their stuff and walks over to the table. This is has happened a few times since they’ve hung out.

Upon hearing him walk towards her, her face returns to its normal self all bright and happy. “Hey, you’re back!,” She says all up beat, “Yeah... hey can I ask you something,” He ask sitting down across from her. “Sure, what’s up?,” She ask, “Well I don’t know if it’s okay, I mean we’ve only been talking for about 4 weeks now but... are you okay?,” He ask.

“What?,” She ask looking a little amazed, “Are you okay, I’ve spotted you a few times just... you sometimes just look so tired, so sad...,” He says trailing off a little. Her face drops at hearing him, before she grabs her stuff off the tray and starts to eat her muffin.

“Do you remember elementary school, and some of early middle school?,” She says and he raises any eyebrow, “Um yeah, why?,” He ask, “You and your friends were so cool, it was always the 7 of you that everyone wanted to be like, that I wanted to be like... you guys were just... amazing. I moved here in the 3rd grade, and no one really noticed me, but I knew everyone. I tired to make friends, but no one really wanted to know me. Well no except you... I don’t even know if you remember,” She says with a smile as she shakes her head.

“You were one of the first people to ask me to play with you and your friends at recess. And then everyone just started to like me, everyone wanted to be near me. We hit middle school, and all of your friends moved away. It was just you and me, but you slowly slipped away and for the next few years, and everyone chose me over you,” She says shaking her head, “It was so weird how nice everyone was...when before no one saw me. I’ve heard so many people talk about me behind my back, and then play nice when I’m in front of them,” She says before she sighs and leans back.

“I just don’t understand how you did it. How you managed with all those people that were so nice to you, but so mean when you weren’t around... it just makes me so tired... I’m just so tired of everyone that smiles at me, and that I have to smile back at,”She finishes, and laying her head on the table closing her eyes. Jin looks down at her and then slowly lays his head on the table as well. 

“You know that’s why people stopped liking me. I didn’t smile back at them when they smiled at me,” He says and she opens her eyes, “After all my friends left I didn’t feel well. I could manage to smile, it took less then a month of them being gone for my parents to take me to the doctor, and for them to put me on something in order to help with my depression,” He says as both of them sit up.

“I’m so sorry,” She says, “It’s okay, it was hard at first but after awhile I understood that somethings happen and that you can’t change them. Plus all of us still keep in contact and meet up ever chance we get,” He adds and she smiles nodding, “That’s good... hey, you aren’t gonna tell anyone about how I feel, right?,” She asks, “Why?,” He ask, “My parents go to extreme with stuff like this... my brother said he was sad once and my parents put him in a mental hospital,” She says and he nods.

“Yeah I promise to keep it a secret, as long as you tell me when you feel low,” He says and she smiles nodding, “Will do,” She says. After that they just seemed to talk about everything while they ate. A new relationship started to grow, and the more they talked the stronger that relationship became. They now understood they had someone who they could talk to, someone they could trust.

-

-

-

“(Y/n),” The familiar voice says causing the girl to turn and smile at the person it belonged to, “Good morning Jin, how’d you sleep,” She ask and he nods, “Good, and you?,” He ask, “Amazing, come on we can walk to chemistry together!,” She says and he nods allowing her to take his arm as they walk down the hall.

A few people stop and stare at the 2 unsure of what was going on, but they paid them no mind as they talked about whatever came to mind while they walked. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. My family is headed out of town this weekend to go to a lake house. I didn’t want to go this year, so I was thinking you could come over and we cold chill out and watching some movie,” She says and Jin’s face turn a bit red before he nods.

-

-

-

(Y/n) swings the door open happily and welcomes Jin into her home, “Hey im so happy you could come. Come on in,” She says and he walks into the house holding his bag closely. “Wow your house is really nice,” He says as she lead him upstairs towards her room to his stuff there for now. “Yeah, my dad designed it,” She says as she opens up her bedroom door to reveal a large aesthic room with the main color being (F/c) being everywhere.

“Just put your stuff anywhere, I’m gonna go grab some stuff so us to eat and drink while we watch movies, and stuff,” She states before rushing out of the room off somewhere. Jin places his bag down, and starts to look around. He goes for the dresser first, and very quietly pulls open the top drawer examining the contents inside.

He had been in the room 24 times now, but this was the first time (Y/n) had been awake and knew he was in here. It made him feel tingly inside at the thought of being caught looking into his (Y/n)’ underwear drawer but he enjoyed seeing the colors she had clean, and sometimes got to see new pairs she had bought that exact day. 

He picks up his favorite pair, a pair of black Victoria secret one, that always seemed to smell like her no matter how many times she washed them. Today was no different as he raised them to his nose and took a deep breath. “Jin, come here I need your opinion!,” (Y/n) yells and he jumps quickly, placing them back in their spot before, closing the drawer and waking towards what he assumed was the kitchen.

“So I was thinking M&Ms but- hey are you okay? You looked spooked,” She says and he smiles. “Yeah I was looking at your photo’s when you yelled, nearly gave me a heart attack,” He says and she smiles walking over to him giving him a hug, “Sorry Jin, now come help me,” She says pulling him towards the snacks. He hugs her from behind and listens to what she has to say before giving his thoughts here and there.

-

-

-

The girl sat next to him crying her eyes out. Jin smiled down at her, “You okay?,” He ask moving closer placing his arm around her shoulder. “How could he do that?,” She cries as more tears run down her face. Jin chuckles and pulls her closer, “It’s okay he’s not real anyway,” He says and she sniffs.

“I’m so happy you’re not like that,” She says as Jin wipes her tears. They make eye contact for a second before Jin leans in for a kiss only for her to move away. “What are doing!,” She ask standings from the bed. “I thought you.... I... did you want to kiss?,” He ask and she sign, “No... god I think of you as a brother,” She says walking over to the tv, “So you don’t like me?,” He ask.

“No!,” She reply’s, “Then why did you invite me here?,” He ask getting up as well walking towards her, “You’re always talking about how amazing I am, and how happy you are around me!,” He yells and she turns to face him, “THATS BECAUSE YOURE MY FRIEND JIN!,” She yells and Jin scoffs, “Well I want more then that. I don’t just want to be your friend,” He reply’s.

“Then I guess you’ll have to get over it,” She says putting in another movie, “Or I could just take what I want,” He says, “What-!,” He grabs hold of her throat and squeezes tightly. “Don’t struggle, I’m not trying to kill you just make you pass out,” He says as she’s struggles against his hold, “Ji-,” He squeezes hard, “Shhh, just relax. Everything will be okay,” He says before she passes out do to lack of oxygen.

Her body goes limp, and he picks her up making his way towards the door out of her room.

•MasterList•

I really had to see someone say catra didnt abuse adora bc she "didnt have a position of power" over her. And claimed that i "didnt know what abuse was". Well i guess the abuse that ive been through in relationships (platonic and romantic), that has often been like catra/adoras dynamic, wasnt abuse huh. Guess im not an abuse victim after all by that logic

Dear anon,

Firstly, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for everything you’ve been through. And I’m really sorry that someone tried to invalidate your experiences with abuse. I really hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself.

Secondly, I disagree with the person’s statement of “catra didnt abuse adora bc she "didnt have a position of power" over her.” That’s false. 

Catra admits to manipulating Adora during the show. And this article talks about manipulation in a relationship and how manipulation is all about power and control. I extracted some parts of the article and placed it right below (within the quotation marks): 

“People who manipulate use mental distortion and emotional exploitation to influence and control others. Their intent is to have power and control over others to get what they want.

A manipulators knows what your weaknesses are and will use them against you. This will keep happening unless you actively and assertively put a stop to it. That said, it is not always easy.”

Next, this article is from the perspective of a victim of abuse after leaving an emotionally abusive relationship. The author of the article wanted to better understand their past abusive relationship and shared the insights that they gained from reading the book, ‘Power Games: Confronting Others’ Hurtful Behaviour and Transforming Our Own by Kay Douglas and Dr Kim McGregor’. I feel that the article illustrates in depth the enormous power imbalance between Catra and Adora and I extracted some parts of the article and put it below (within the double quotations): 

“After leaving an emotionally abusive relationship, I found myself needing to understand what had happened. Like most people who leave a volatile situation I was, quite simply, unable to process and articulate what was wrong. Apart from being incredibly vulnerable, I was also just too close to my own situation to see it objectively.

So I decided to read Power Games: Confronting Others’ Hurtful Behaviour and Transforming Our Own by Kay Douglas and Dr Kim McGregor. What I found was a wealth of information confirming what I couldn’t express or even see for myself. Here are some choice insights from the book, as well as some of my own thoughts*:

1. Control is always at the heart of a power game. The need to assert control will usually involve undermining and/or discrediting another to achieve our own ends. For example, we are using power games when we:

bully or intimidate someone into agreeing with our demands;

bait and provoke others through disturbing statements or actions and then claim they’re being over-sensitive/emotional, crazy or irrational (known as gaslighting); 

...

engage in name calling, put-downs, harsh criticism or threats.

2. Manipulators are not concerned with taking responsibility for their decisions/behaviours/feelings. Instead, they create a smokescreen by shifting the focus or blame to others. And consequently, the other party must assume the responsibility for making the situation ‘better’. If the other party is a ‘good’ person, they will comply with whatever demands are issued (peace at any price). As soon as they resist, however, the manipulator is likely to go on the attack.

3. For the receiver, cumulative exposure to such tumult may reduce self-esteem and increase anxiety, resentment and fear. Receivers will experience intense emotional reactions and may end up interpreting these as proof they are selfish, unbalanced, over-sensitive and unreasonable. They may lose their sense of self; either over-compensating to ‘get it right’ and ‘be better’ or even adopting manipulative tactics against others.

...

4. For the receiver, regaining personal power starts with a shift in one’s thinking. More specifically, an acknowledgement that the manipulator must take responsibility for their feelings and behaviours and any future change. It is accepting that the dynamic needs to change and learning to distinguish between real and manufactured guilt. It is constructing and defending boundaries and a willingness to listen to what anger is trying to say. It is the ability to cut through the smokescreen tactics and see the situation clearly. It is the ability to speak one’s truth and articulate one’s feelings. It is honouring the self. And, sometimes, this will mean leaving.

What I learned is that while not everyone who feels inadequate is a manipulator, every manipulator feels inadequate. So do we all, I know. But, what sets manipulators apart is the way they consistently and systematically re-distribute this inadequacy onto others.

...

What I also learned is that by disengaging I was not giving up, but that I was actively saying ‘I am worth more than this’.”

On a personal note, I just wanted to point out some additional reasons I see a huge power imbalance between Catra and Adora:

- The fact that Catra was completely okay with controlling Adora and Catra was not willing to give up her control of Adora.

- The fact that Adora seems to be the one who is constantly scared of Catra. At the present moment, I can only remember two scenes when Catra is scared of Adora: when Adora gets corrupted and attacks Catra at the beginning of White Out (S2E5), and when Adora gives Catra “The Look” at the end of The Portal (S3E6) . In addition, take a look at this scene. Adora honestly believes that Catra is going to kill her:

- The fact that Catra is completely okay with taking away Adora’s power. In the following scene, Catra doesn’t even see Adora as a person but as a tool. Catra literally states that they’ll use the corrupted sword in order to control Adora and use Adora as an advantage for the Horde. Catra even states that she’ll control Adora to kill Adora’s own friends. That is unbelievably sick. Moreover, Catra was completely okay with controlling Adora’s choices and actions. In fact, this scene supports the fact that Catra was completely okay with taking away Adora’s freedom. 

And honestly, there are some stark similarities between the previous scene with Catra and the following scene with Shadow Weaver. Shadow Weaver was ready to take away Adora’s power and use Adora as a tool against the Rebellion. 

I’d also like to point out that what Catra was willing to do to Adora, Horde Prime had actually done to Catra in S5. Catra’s power and freedom was taken away by Horde Prime and Horde Prime controlled Catra to attack Adora. The fact that Horde Prime took away Catra’s power and freedom was cruel and despicable. And the fact that Catra was willing to take away Adora’s power and freedom is cruel and despicable. 

Moreover, Adora ended up with Catra, a person who was perfectly okay with taking away Adora’s freedom and power. 

That is absolutely vile.

Finally I just want to add that my pinned post titled “Catra abused Adora.” has hyperlinks to resources relating to abuse:

- The Emotional Abuse section is reviewed by professionals. 

- The Physical Abuse section is provided by an online mental health service in Australia.

And these resources confirm that Catra emotionally and physically abuses Adora. 

In conclusion, you are right to say that Catra abuses Adora. Again, I’m really sorry that someone tried to invalidate your experiences with abuse. And I really hope you know that your feelings about Catradora are completely valid. 

I genuinely hope you’re talking care of yourself. Seriously, please make sure you check in with yourself and prioritize some self-care. 

Thank you very much for sharing. ✨

~ Self-shipping ask game: Dracika🦇🩸 // Ashika🪓💙 ~

I asked @mutatedcrocuta​ for permission to use her self-ship questions and she very graciously agreed! Thank youuuu ~ 💜💜💜

Overall word count: 7, 664.

Dracula x Erika (Dracika) 🖤🩸🖤

Word count: 3, 179.

Date you got together? We met in September but we didn’t get together until November 14th 2020. I was scared of him until the middle of October and then it took some more time after that for me to work out what I wanted between the two of us. Dracula somehow knew what was going to happen and whenever I asked him to tell me, he would just smirk at me. He never said anything and he waited for me to make my own decisions on everything. Once I realised what I wanted, neither of us really... announced the relationship. It was just a... shall we try this? vibe which we both agreed to and we have yet to change our minds!

Favourite personality trait? His courage. My sweet vampire was terrified for 500 years about something which was never a threat to him in the first place. He spent all that time alone and afraid for no reason because he was always too afraid to test the things he thought he knew. I really admire his bravery, and as someone who’s scared of something very similar, I find that I can be just a little braver in my own fear, knowing that Dracula understands me on that basic level. Our fear brought us together and through that, we found love. He’s afraid of the light and I’m afraid of the dark and I don’t know about you, but that says “soulmates” to me!🥰💗

Favourite physical trait? Ohhhhh.... his eyes. His beautiful eyes which are so dark they’re like black coffee. Onyx, perhaps. They can be so soft when he’s talking to someone or they can be cold and calculating. When he smiles, they melt into pools of warm chocolate and I similarly melt when I look into his eyes. I also love that damned smirk. When he knows he’s five steps ahead of everyone in the room or when he suspects something which later turns out to be true... his smirk makes me feel weak in the knees even when I’m sitting down.

Couple song We don’t have a couple song. There’s not really... anything out there which I’ve found to resonate with the both of us. Like A Vampire by Catrien Maxwell is one I listen to when I want his attention, though, and it works like a charm! “So how does a vampire love, Erika?” was what Dracula said the first time I played it around him. I said, “I don’t know... why don’t you show me?” and... I’ll let his display be up to your imagination.😉

Pet peeves... Mine is when he feeds off someone. And leaves them to bleed out. On the floor. Like??? I just cleaned the carpet out from the last person who bled all over the floor. It’s irritating. Just like when he then flashes me that smirk and he’s got blood all over his chin, lips and lower part of his face like??? That’s your food, close your damn mouth. Are you five hundred or just five? 😂 I find it funny but also annoying; depends on my mood. Will I clean his face off, though, and leave a tender kiss on the tip of his nose? Oh, yeah! My vampire deserves love.🥺

Dracula’s is how jumpy I am. It irritates him to no end. He has long since stopped saying, “sorry, didn’t mean to startle you” and now I tend to get either an eye roll, a patient smirk or a, “you knew I was there, Erika”. It depends on his  mood, but the one time he genuinely made me scared and it upset me, he was quick to apologise to me and he learned very quickly how to avoid doing that in the future. We’ve had to learn many a thing from each other in a short amount of time for things between us to be able to work.

Favourite outfit on them?

Picture source

He just looks... so warm and inviting but also so dangerous. There’s an obvious wall between himself and everyone else and I love the way he carries himself! It makes me want to sit on his lap, curl up and go to sleep asdfghjk🥺 and that hair.... the urge to mess it up is strong skkssk😂 I value my life, though, so I won’t... yet.😏 Dracula’s appearance is just so safe to me and he makes me smile just to see him, no matter what he’s wearing.

Favourite meal? Blood, obviously. Dracula has never drank from me. I’ve said he can many a time but��“No. Not that. Not to you. You’re... too special a flavour, Erika. I wouldn’t dare to sample it. You’re exquisite.” is all I get every time I offer myself up to him. Maybe one day he’ll agree but for now, he’s more than happy to continue feeding off others. He’s careful with what he eats. I’m not, though, which may be why he won’t feed off me.😂

Early bird or night owl? Dracula’s nocturnal so our days and nights are reversed. As I get into bed, my darling vampire is just waking up. This means that I get goodnight cuddles and he gets good morning cuddles at the same time! It works well for us both and if I’m very lucky (or just really clingy or upset), he’ll stay with me for a little longer and eat into his day! He says “I love you” in his own ways and I’ve learned to hear them.

Snorer or sleep talker? Dracula doesn’t do either of these. If I get into bed too roughly and jostle him, he’ll hiss in his sleep but that’s about it. Me, on the other hand? Certified chainsaw snorer!😂

Do you have any pets together? We don’t! Dracula feeds off animals when there’s no humans around and my worst fear is coming downstairs in the morning to find that he’s fed on my animals in the night because his baser instincts took over and he couldn’t stop himself. I would never forgive him or myself if that happened, so no pets!

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

I call him: Drac, Draccy, Draccy boi (he hates this one so I only do it when I’m deliberately trying to wind him up because those fangs, I - 🥵), my Drac, my vampire, my sweet vampire... my love, honey, Dracula if He’s In Trouble! 

He calls me: luna bella (beautiful moon), my dear, my love, Erika if I’m In Trouble. Dracula’s not really one for pet names. He says what he says and that’s it. 

How often do you fight? Never. We don’t ever fight. If there’s ever a line I’m about to cross, he will say my name very calmly and very quietly and the chill which runs up my spine is enough to keep me from crossing that line. With Dracula, he knows that if I ignore him, he’s close to crossing a line. We have warnings for each other, and that’s it. No fights. I can’t handle it and Dracula’s too old for that.

What starts fights? We don’t fight as I said, but those lines... for Dracula, those lines are insisting he drinks from me and refusing to back down on it (I did it once, in the early days, before I understood who he was properly), or when I won’t take care of myself in the way he thinks I should be. It’ll get me full-named with his chin dipped so that the shadows around him emphasise the lines of his face, and I’ll shiver and I’ll know I’m in trouble... so I’ll rectify it in the ways I know he wants me to, and then a hand will be laid on my shoulder so I know all’s forgiven. All it takes is my name spoken in a certain tone and he’s got me in the palm of his hand. But I’m safe, even then.

For me, I don’t have many lines at all but one of them is when I come home in the middle of the day or when I wake up and just walking through the house and then I trip over a body. Like, for fuck’s sake, Drac, do your dishes.😂 I don’t make a big deal out of it usually but once there were five or six bodies in one room because he’d gorged himself and I got pissed off because they were in my way and obviously I couldn’t get rid of them myself. So when he greeted me that morning I said nothing to him and I continued to say nothing until he’d gotten rid of his victims. He never sees what the big deal is, but I do.

We may not fight but we definitely have our differences!

Who apologizes first? We each apologise when we need to. If Drac crossed a line, he’ll apologise first. If I crossed a line, I’ll apologise first. It depends on who was in the wrong. Sometimes Dracula will give me a certain look and I’ll just instinctively say ‘sorry’. He doesn’t necessarily understand these moments, though, and he’ll ask me why I apologised and I’ll just say that I felt like I needed to because of the look he gave me. Dracula will frown but then he’ll crook a finger at me and I’ll be brought in for a hug. “You silly little thing. You never have to apologise to me. Not for anything. Do you understand?” and I try. I really do try.

Big spoon or little spoon? Dracula’s always the big spoon. If his back is to the door when I come to bed (he’s just waking up), then he will turn so that he’s spooning me because I sleep facing the door so I can see the room around me. Even with my lamp, I’m still wary and scared. I tried to have Drac as the little spoon once and within minutes we switched positions because he couldn’t stop chuckling at the seven inch height difference. I just... get to melt into him and he protects me. No harm will come to me when Dracula’s there and he loves the way he can fold me into him and keep me safe.

Dom or sub? Dracula’s the dom, definitely. The power he has is obvious and we’ll never truly be equal, not really... I mean, he’s five hundred years old and I’m twenty-three... I’ve been alive for the blink of an eye compared to his lengthy existence. I am definitely my own person and I have my own life but there’s an equality imbalance which we’re both aware of. He never plays on it, though. I trust him to not ever do that to me, and Dracula respects me too much for that. Other people are fair game in his eyes, but me? I’m his so that means I’m always under his protection.

What are their kisses like? “The kiss of a vampire is an opiate” as Drac states in episode two. So he can take me anywhere with just one kiss. He can make me feel sleepy, awake, aroused, in control... scared... He can make me feel anything when he kiss and most times he makes me feel relaxed, safe and he makes me feel his love for me. If I have trouble sleeping or if I’ve had a nightmare, he’ll kiss me and the next thing I know it’s morning and I slept solidly. During the times I doubt our relationship, he will kiss me and I feel all of his love for me. His kisses are fire but it’s... like basking in the sunlight. It’s passion, it’s love, it’s security... he kisses me like I’m the only one for him, like I’m the only one who’s ever gotten so close to him. He kisses me like he’ll die if he doesn’t and yet he’s in control the entire time. Whenever he pulls away from me, there’s a smirk on his face and the hands on my waist aren’t just to keep me close, but to hold me up, too... on some occasions he’s had to scoop me up to sit me down somewhere because I’ve gotten lost in the state he put me in. 

What do they smell like? Ohhh... he smells like... Dracula. That’s so cliché, but his name is as good a descriptor as any. He smells like cedarwood, like spiced pear and there’s a metallic tang about him... blood. He smells dark and foreboding, but also safe. I would know his scent anywhere. Sometimes when I’m off doing my own thing during the day, I suddenly catch a scent on the wind and I know he’s with me. 

What are their hugs like? To begin with, I hugged Dracula. I was never held back. I never received one from him. If I wanted one, I had to start it and I would have to finish it, too. He would just stand there and endure it. But then one day I dropped a knife and it landed on my foot and somehow I avoided stabbing myself. I wasn’t injured but Dracula scooped me up and carried me away from the knife... but he didn’t put me down right away. He stood there and he held me in his arms like I was precious cargo (I was, I know now), and when he set me down, he said that he liked “this thing you mortals call a hug” and now when he hugs me it’s with everything he has in that moment. He almost folds himself in half and his scent becomes all I can smell. He doesn’t breathe and he’s got no heartbeat so it’s quiet and it’s still and it’s warm... most often I become sleepy when he hugs me because I just relax. It’s like magic.

Who is more protective? We protect each other. In the day time, I protect him and in the night time, he protects me. We fear opposite ends of the same thing and there’s a lot of understanding and compassion in that. We’re equally protective of each other. In the day, I keep curtains closed especially if it’s sunny outside, I make sure that Dracula has places he can go and I make sure that he has food if he needs it. If anyone dares to disturb his peace within our home, I will step in. Curtains stay shut. Rooms are safe. And then at night... lights are turned on. Shadows are eliminated and Dracula stays close by. We give a part of our days to each other and in this way do we stay close to one emotionally. In our fears are we equal and through this, we found love.

Interested in children? To Dracula, “talk of children sounds like a miracle” but I would rather eat my own foot, toenails included, than have kids and he knows it.

Who needs the most TLC when sick? If either of us gets sick, then the other person gives them every amount of care which we can. Dracula only gets sick if he consumes blood which isn’t good; if someone’s dying or if they’re sick, then he gets sick. It’s very rare but he’ll expel it from his body all at once and then collapse. I clean his face, get him somewhere he can rest, and i stay by his side until he wakes up hours later. I hate it when he gets ill and thankfully it’s very rare because of how carefully he picks his food. When I get sick, which is also rare because, despite having an autoimmune disease I have a very strong immune system (yeah, I can’t work that out either), Dracula’s almost overbearing. He gets me everything I need and he is everything I need until I get better and he stays by my side through it all. Dracula and I do everything we can for each other at all times. It’s a part of our love language.

Who says ‘I love you’ first? This was also me. Dracula knew the entire time, from the day we met, what would happen between us, but he never said anything. He just... he waited. He waited for my nightmares to stop, he waited for me to approach him with increasing frequency, he waited for me to be brave enough to approach him... Dracula waited. About two months after we first met, I realised that I loved him. I invited him into my bed for the first time that night and I asked him to cuddle with me and he chuckled at me. He came into my bed, “well, this is a surprise.” and I grinned because... just wait ‘til I said what I wanted to say. So I did... I told him. He froze and then his entire body relaxed. He said, “finally.” and that was that.

Which of you is more accident prone? Definitely me!!!! I have a shitty centre of balance and honestly a lack of self-preservation so I’m constantly bumping into tables, walking into doors, tripping up or down the stairs... Dracula usually just laughs or smirks or otherwise ignores me because he’s so used to it but very occasionally I’ll actually do something which may well hurt me, and he will catch me with a shake of his head. “Careful, Erika. I won’t always be around to catch you, hm?” He’s lying. He will be. 

Bed hog? Also me! Dracula tends to just lay on his back with his arms by his sides and if there’s not enough room for me beside him, I will lay on top of him and he won’t be able to move me. I sleep like the dead and I wake like them, too. As I go to bed, he’s just waking up so he usually ends up getting up later than he planned to because he had to coax himself out from underneath me.😂 I don’t make it easy on him, and why should I? I want my cuddles and I’ll get them whether he likes it or not. He does, though, he loves the way I love him, and he just pretends he doesn’t because he doesn’t like to admit his own heart. But I can sense it - his love language is a loud one and I quickly became proficient in speaking it.

Who loves the other the most? Me. Without a doubt, I love Dracula far more than he could ever love me. I’ve never been able to work out why he’s with me but I suppose it’s because we’re safe and understood in our fears by the other person and we’re teaching each other to be brave. He is capable of love, I know he is, but I think Dracula’s beyond that. When he loves, it’s beyond description or any kind of labels mortals could come up with. He’s fond of me, incredibly so, and I think that’s as far as it goes. That’s okay, though! It means the world to even know him.

Ash Williams x Erika (Ashika)🪓💙

I’ve used a GIF of young!Ash (mid-twenties) and then a GIF of Ash in 2015 (57-ish) because Bruce Campbell’s aged like a fine wine and omgggg ~ 🥵🥵 I just love him (Ash and Bruce lmao)🧡. 

Word count: 4, 485.

Date you got together? Ash is my newest F/O even though I’ve known him since I was about eleven. We got together on the 10th December 2020. I was watching season two of the TV series and it just slammed into me how badly I wanted to protect him and how much I wanted to love him and give him the life he should have had. I asked Ash “how about it?” and he quirked an eyebrow and said, “let’s go”.🥰💗 I’ve known him for such a long time and I’ve always thought that there was more to him than I was able to understand when I was so young but I’m in a place now where I’m able to better understand him and I’m excited to dive into him and see where we go! I wish I could be with Ash for his whole life; from when he first goes to the cabin, helping him with the trauma after, then everything in the next thirty years and beyond. I love my Ashy🥺💖

Favourite personality trait? I looooooove ~ Ash’s “shoot first think never” motto. It’s his entire mentality and it means to just do it, to be in the moment. It’s also a literal motto, as in to shoot Deadites without thinking about it, but I appreciate the deeper meaning of it, too. I also love his courage and his bravery. He never wanted to be a Deadite killer, he never wanted to have to fight them for the rest of his life, but he does it and it’s honestly the only thing he’s good at. He’s shit at everything except fighting evil and he gives it his all and I love that about him. Ash really inspires me in a lot of ways. He thinks that’s ridiculous but that’s his tough-guy exterior. I know that he’s touched and just doesn’t know how to say it. So he’ll show me, instead, and if I’m not paying attention then I’ll miss it. he has a quiet and subtle love language and I’m quickly learning to speak it.

Favourite physical trait? Can I just say his everything??? I love everything about Ash🥺🥺🥺🥺 I do have a soft spot for his chainsaw hand, though. The noise it makes when he fires it up makes me smile; it’s so familiar to me. I like to kiss the stump of his hand when it’s just the two of us in his trailer; he went through literal hell and the strength it must have taken, physically and otherwise, to saw off his own hand is just... I could never be that brave. I try to be as gentle with him as I can be and I like to love on the parts of him no one else sees because I’m the only one to see them. There’s nothing about Ash I don’t love. Keep this last sentence in mind when you read the pet peeves section!

Couple song Back In Black by ACϟDC ... he plays this song in the Delta and we jam out together. It’s a light-hearted and simple moment between the two of us and let’s be fair, nothing hits like 70/80s metal. He and I don’t really have a set song, we just... listen to whatever’s in his player and make light-hearted memories from that which will get us through the worst of everything. Sometimes I’ll just ask Ash to sing with no music playing. He’s tone deaf but the sound of his voice alone is more melodious and comforting to me than the songs he likes to play.

Pet peeves... 

Mine is that, honestly, Ash is kind of gross and I say that with so much love. He leaves his beer cans everywhere, he leaves his recreational baggies of drugs everywhere and there’s some questionably crusty socks on our floor which I am not picking up no matter how many times he waggles his eyebrows at me. He leaves dishes to pile high up in the sink and then asks me to do them for him “as a favour” while he’s at work (even though I have my own things to do🙄). He’s stuck in the 80s as far as his attitudes go and that does irritate me. He knows it and he thinks it’s hot when I get riled up... I’m 99% sure he says this stuff just to annoy me. I’ll do the dishes no matter what I say in the moment and he knows it. I can’t stand having food left out, especially in summer, and I have a phobia of sickness as well as health anxieties so whenever Ash comes home and I’ve already cleaned the kitchen part of the trailer, made our bed (and left those socks on the floor, thank you. I have limits to what I’ll do),  fed Eli and now I’m at the kitchen table studying or writing, Ash makes sure to say thank you. He feels bad about it because we both know he would have done the dishes if I hadn’t, but I have a guilt complex on top of my fears and if someone asks me to do something I’ll do it even if I don’t want to because I feel bad for saying no. 

“Ah, Erika, you didn’t have to do that, I was gonna do ‘em later on.”

“It’s fine, Ash, they’re done now.”

Ash will kiss the top of my head and then he’ll come and sit beside me, keeping me company while I do whatever I’m doing. I’ll get up automatically and crack him open a beer and I can see that Ash feels bad about the comments he made before he went to work, but he also knows that I would have gotten him a beer anyway. I want to take care of him and he’s been at work all day. In return, Ash will get up and make me a coffee even though I was also about to do that.

“Ash, you don’t need to - “

He’ll just give me a Look while he leans against the counter waiting for the kettle and I understand it’s his apology for what he said this morning (it’ll happen again tomorrow but that’s okay). Ash knows I really don’t mind doing the dishes, and I know that Ash never means for things to come across the way they can. The way I react to them is on me, not Ash. We do things for each other, it’s a part of our love language, and even though sometimes miscommunications like the above can happen, we still carry on with them because my traumas are mine and Ash’s are his and we work through them together.

Ash’s pet peeve is the way I put him before myself all the time. Sometimes he’ll come home and I’ve got a beer can ready in the fridge, dinner’s nearly done (he works late most days), the immediate chores are done and Ash will come in and I’m stressed out from all the work I’ve got to do because I took my time on stuff I did for him and left myself short. I say it’s fine but it’s not and we both know it. Ash will call me out every single time. 

“For god’s sake, Erika, you knew you had to do ___ today, why did’ya focus on me?” He genuinely doesn’t understand why I love him so much and it breaks my heart every single time. He’s had such a horrible life and I just want to soften those edges as best as I can and give him something else to fight for. Ash will sigh, crack open the beer, and then when dinner’s done, he does the dishes while I catch up on my work and even though he doesn’t understand any of what I’m doing, he’ll stay beside me and keep an arm around my shoulders or my waist and make his gratitude, appreciation and concern known.

Favourite outfit on them? His blue shirt/brown trousers combo. It’s the only thing he wears in the franchise and I adore it. I often ‘borrow’ (steal) his shirts to sleep in or otherwise relax in (I’m a baggy shirt and panties only girl) and Ash thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s 6′1 and I’m 5′7 so his shirts swim on me and I love that. So does Ash and it’s the quickest way to get him to... pay attention to me.😂

Favourite meal? Ash will eat anything. Usually tacos - he’d eat them every day of the week if I let him. With me having a wheat and gluten allergy and Ash not having any food allergies at all, the lucky bastard, it can be difficult but I always make Ash’s food first if it contains anything with wheat in it, and then I scrub the kitchen down and make my own. Ash says I should just make mine first and “I can worry about my own damn food”, but I consider that to be rude of me so I always do Ash’s first. It plays into the pet peeve thing and Ash is learning to just...let it go. 

Early bird or night owl? Poor Ash has been through so much trauma in his life that he suffers from PTSD and nightmares. He usually just gets high or blackout drunk (or both, on a really bad night) so that he can grab a few hours of sleep before his own screaming wakes him up. He sleeps when he can and usually just runs on naps around his shifts at S-Mart. He’s up all hours of the day and night and he just sleeps when he can. Ash isn’t an early bird or a night owl... he’s a permanently exhausted pigeon 😂 I’m a night owl, though, and most nights I’ll stay up with Ash for as long as I possibly can. Sometimes I fall asleep in his lap because I’m so tired and I’ll wake up a few hours later and Ash has draped his upper body over me so that I’m caged in and protected while he rests. That hurts his back, though, so I massage it for him when he wakes up because I really don’t wanna wake him up when he’s asleep unless I have to. When I do have to, it’s with lots of guilt and apologies because he sleeps so little as it is. If I could give Ash anything, it’d be the ability to truly sleep with ease. He deserves that at the very least.

Snorer or sleep talker? Ash is a sleep talker. He usually says stuff like, “no, come back”, “I didn’t mean to”, “please, come back - “ after a nightmare it’s usually with a scream or with the name of someone he’s lost on his lips and it’ll wake me up and I’ll do my best to soothe him. I’m a snorer, though. Ash did once rip his chainsaw to life while I was asleep because he was repairing the trailer outside and not only did I stay asleep (I sleep like the dead), but also he could hear me over his chainsaw. So I’m known as the Chainsaw Snorer and when he introduces me to people... that’s the name he uses.😂 Charming, isn’t he? In Elk Grove, Michigan, he’s known (horribly) as Ashy Slashy and it sounds quite fitting with Chainsaw Snorer...I’m not saying we’re meant for each other, buuuut ~ 🥺

Do you have any pets together? I help Ash out with his lizard, Eli, sometimes, but other than that; no pets! There’s not really room for them in the trailer and I have my hands full with Ash anyway.😂 

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

Ash calls me anything - honey bunny (flirting), sweetcheeks (casual), hot piece of ass (that one gets him glared at and he’ll look away because he knows I don’t like being objectified. He’s only teasing but I still don’t like it), sweetheart (comfort), my delicious cookie (when he’s trying to wriggle out of doing the dishes. It makes us both cringe so I don’t know why he uses it), baby (comfort). My name is only used when he’s needing me or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get my attention.

I don’t call Ash much - Ashy (comfort for either of us, depending on who needs it or when I miss him or when I’m super sleepy and therefore I have no filter). I’m unsure how he feels about Ashy because of how he’s known in his hometown but that’s why I call him “Ashy” - I took a name of fear and hate and turned it to love. He deserves that. Honey (casual), my love (casual), jefe (when we’re around Kelly and/or Pablo). I only call him Ashley (his full name) when I need him or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get his attention.

How often do you fight? Rarely, if ever. Ash is very casual and chilled out about lots of things and he’ll just wave things off (though he’s quick to call out bullshit), and I can’t handle conflict of any kind at all. If tension is around, Ash will either go to work, the bar, or maybe even go for a drive in the Delta to give us both some space and I’ll shut myself in the bedroom and do some work. The trailer’s quite small so that can only add to the tension so most often we just go our separate ways until we’re calm enough to talk about anything which lingers. 

What starts fights? Not much. Tension usually arises after an encounter with some Deadites. If Ash got injured, then he needs to sit his ass down and let me tend to those injuries. I can be quite firm when I need to be, especially if I’m worried. Ash doesn’t get what the big deal is, he came home, didn’t he? But I’m so scared of losing him that that can show itself in anger even when I’m relieved that he’s home. It’s the same with Ash - he’s so scared of losing me. Literally everyone he’s ever loved has died right in front of him and he is terrified of losing me. I can and I will throw myself in his way so that I take a hit meant for Ash and nothing pisses him off faster. Both of us know that anger often hides pain, it’s a secondary emotion, so when this happens, we just... we patch each other up, we cuddle and we apologise and we comfort each other and the anger quickly dissipates into what it actually is: tender love and fear of losing each other. Once the anger’s out of the way, we can get to the “good stuff”, as Ash puts it.

Who apologizes first? It depends on who messed up.  It’s usually Ash, let’s be fair; he’s shit at everything except fighting Deadites and he’d be the first to tell you that. Most people’s apologies are followed by a “I won’t do it again” but this is Ash... he will do it again so apologies are almost redundant. Even so, he’ll say he’s sorry and then he’ll make up for it... letting me hold Eli or cuddling me while we watch some crappy TV together... Once, I messed up hugely by getting myself severely injured after a Deadite encounter and I bought Ash a new TV with all the premium channels - something he once asked a demon for. I also apologised with words and Ash was more than willing to forget it all! He did, however, finally teach me how to use weapons after that point and the both of us worked to help each other out a bit more.

Big spoon or little spoon? Ash’s tough guy exterior demands that he is the big spoon but he doesn’t actually like being the big spoon unless he can take the position into NSFW territory (he calls it “getting down to business”). He usually just wiggles against me, as if he can’t get comfortable, until I get the hint and turn around so that he is the little spoon... and then he melts. He buries his face either in the crook of my neck or my chest (he’s after my heartbeat) and I’ll stroke his hair and if we’re very lucky... Ash will actually go to sleep. Ash is always the little spoon; them’s the rules! If I need comforting or if I can’t sleep etc. then Ash will be the big spoon, but mostly he prefers to be the little one. I love the way I can then literally watch over him and protect him, though, so it works out well for us both!

Dom or sub? Ash and I typically assume whatever role we need to. Sometimes Ash is more in control and sometimes I am. We usually feed off the other person to work out what they need. On the days we both need comfort, then we switch and take care of each other in order to take care of ourselves. We live for each other🥺💗 Generally speaking, Ash is the dom, if only because he’s literally double my age and that’s just the dynamic we fell into.

What are their kisses like? Ash kisses me like it’s the first and the last time he’s ever going to get to kiss me. Any moment he could die, at any moment there could be a Deadite, any moment could something take me away from him and he truly fears losing the people he loves because that’s all he’s ever known. I always know when my Ashy is going to kiss me because he’ll get this... darker look in his eyes and he’ll grab me either by my waist or my shoulders and I’ll get tugged into him. He almost slams his lips into mine and then it softens into tenderness and reverence. His kisses are either slow and he takes his time or they’re fast and rushed because shit, he’s late for work but he can’t pull himself away... No matter where his hands start, they will finish on my face as he holds me to him. I am always left feeling dazed. No one kisses me like Ash.

What do they smell like? In the show Ash wears Pinaud Clubman, which is described as

It makes me feel so safe, though the metallic tang of blood which is practically soaked into Ash’s clothes, even when they’re clean, almost ruins that sense of familiarity and safety. Almost. If Ash is at work or if he’s out with Kelly and Pablo, then I might use some of it and ‘borrow’ one of his shirts just to feel him near me. I’m not saying I’m clingy, but... I do need to have some part of Ash with me during those long periods he’s not there, just to comfort myself and keep me focused on what I’m doing. I also have my own shirt which I bought which looks like Ash; though I rarely wear that now that I know I could have just... asked Ash for one of his shirts🥺

What are their hugs like? Ash hugs the way he kisses... like it’s the first and last time all at once. I don’t ever have to worry that I’m annoying Ash with how often I want to be hugged or held because he melts every single time. He’s touch starved and in a lot of ways so am I. When Ash and I hug we cease to be Erika and Ash. We just become this... human mesh where limbs and such are entangled and you can’t really tell who’s who. Ash is four inches taller than me so I disappear into him, especially if he rests his head on my shoulder, and we clutch each other like we’ll die if we let go. Ash does sometimes feel that way because his fears come straight up to the surface and I’ll stroke his hair and tell him that I’m there, I’m okay and I’m safe and so is he. Ash’s hugs centre me and they remind me of where I am and what I’m doing and Ash never pulls away first. Even if he hugs me first, he won’t let me go until I step away. Truthfully, we both find it hard to step away and sometimes we can stand there for up to thirty minutes, taking and giving comfort and love in equal measures. With one arm around my shoulders and one around my waist, Ash holds me to him. I always have my arms around his middle and my fingers will be knotted into his blue shirts. When we pull away, the middle of Ash’s shirt will be creased; it makes me miss him all the more. He’s been late to work on many an occasion because we both know that this hug could very well be the last and we want to make it count.

Who is more protective? This depends on the situation. 

In general life and if there are Deadites involved, then Ash is the most protective person. To the extent where it’s almost overwhelming. If I go to the bathroom when there’s whispers of Deadites then Ash will literally stand outside the door or, at least, close by, and every thirty seconds or so I’ll hear him asking if I’m all right. I more than understand his concern though so I treat every check-up seriously. It means the world to me to be so important to him. 

In Elk’s Grove, Michigan, when there are whispers of Ashy Slashy and of how he went mad and killed all his friends at the cabin back in 1983, I’m the protective one. I can and I will go head to head with people to put them right about my Ash. I don’t like conflict and I avoid confrontation like the plague, but for one of my loved ones??? Hold my coffee. Ash finds it really hot and that tough guy exterior comes out because Ash doesn’t know how else to handle the situation, but then when it’s just he and I back in the trailer or the Delta, his brown eyes soften and my Ash will thank me with a tight hug, whispers of love and a kiss so powerful I forget why he was kissing me in the first place.

Interested in children? Nope. I’d rather eat my own foot and Ash just... doesn’t want to. He does have a daughter, Brandi, from another relationship and I’m friends with her (she’s seventeen by the time he meets her for the first time), but beyond that, kids are a no-go!

Who needs the most TLC when sick? Both Ash and I work through our sicknesses by ourselves and we don’t bring all that much attention to it, but Ash is, as I’ve said, so scared of losing anyone he loves that when I get sick he almost buys out S-Mart’s pharmaceutical section. He’s almost overbearing when I get sick but the joke’s on him because I get my ‘revenge’ when he inevitably gets sick, too - the dumbass still kisses me when I’m ill so as I recover, he’s coming down with it.😂 I love my slasher himbo so much...

Who says ‘I love you’ first? Ash said it first. We were driving in the Delta to go back to the trailer and he had a cut on his cheek. He had taped it up with duct tape but I had some antiseptic wipes in my bag so I was attempting to patch him up on the way home and Ash just said he loved me without taking his eyes off the road. I said it back without even thinking about it and then Ash almost got us into a crash because he took his eyes off the road to stare at me. Luckily the other car honked just in time before Ash had to slam down on the brakes or his injury would have been so much worse. 😂 In day to day life, either of us will say it first and the other always says it back. Any time could be the last time and we’re both painfully aware of that fact, though Ash knows it far more than I do for obvious reasons .I get upset if an “I love you” isn’t returned because it can lead to insecurities and tears and Ash... likes to avoid waterworks because he never knows what to do.

Which of you is more accident prone? Ashhhhh ~ without a doubt! He’s forever coming back to the trailer with cuts, scrapes, bruises...even just at work in the housewares department, if there’s a way for him to injure himself then he’ll do it. Not on purpose, mind, but he’s as much of a klutz as I am and evil follows him wherever he goes. Many a time I’ve patched him up (sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s got an injury because he’s so used to being covered in blood and gore) and then discovered one of my own and Ash has patched me up to return the gesture. I guess you could say we put each other’s broken pieces back together, though of course there’s nothing to be romanticised about falling apart.

Bed hog? I had to think about this one, but considering Ash rarely actually sleeps, I’d say it’s me. I once managed to fall out of a Queen sized bed because I rolled over too far. I’d been lying in the middle and I have yet to work out how I fell out. But I digress. If there’s a way for me to take up all the space in a bed, then I will whether I intend to or not. Ash usually just... climbs over me if he wants to get into bed or if he wants to get out of bed. I sleep and wake like the dead so he won’t wake me unless he actually wants to wake me. If Ash can’t move me then he’ll just lay on top of me and that soothes him to sleep quite quickly... funny how these things work themselves out...😉

Who loves the other the most? I’d say we’re pretty equal in this one, tbh. Ash has lots of fears which stem around losing someone he loves (again) and that can mean that he shows his love for me almost desperately in some ways, and nothing scares me more than my loved ones feel unloved by me, so in that way I’m quite an intense person, too. We both make sure the other person knows they are loved every second we can and that’s probably why we’ll be a couple which lasts through the ages.

who we are to ourselves and others

oct 31, 2019 - 11:19 am

i've been thinking about what you said the other night. we were talking about the people who were important to us; who means the most to us; who has the capacity to hurt us the most.

i said that no-one was in the same ball-court as you. to which you replied: "you only get as much as you see". you explained saying that "you only know people as much as they show you" and that everyone always perceives themselves to be worse than how others see them because you know all the bad within yourself. this, is true. jokingly you followed with, "maybe i'm just good at putting up a front", "you just don't know all the bad parts of me". this was said jokingly, but it felt like you meant it. and since, i've been thinking about it. i feel like something shifted in me and i don't know what it is or how to explain it. i think it hurt a bit because it is true. i think i am impacted by this inconsequential comment because of my insecurities. i suddenly felt unsure. suddenly i was overcome with a feeling of slight sadness.

the thing is, i care for you so deeply it is not even quantifiable. when i think of your presence in my life; when i think of you as who i know you as, i cannot even begin to express how much emotion i feel from the core of my heart. it is true that i do not know all the bad parts within you because no-one does except for you. but the thing is, i was shaken, because for a sudden second, it felt like this person i cared for like no-one else wasn't real. this feeling was not true in its reality- as in, you are real. but it took me back to what you said about your relationships with people, you need to have the upper hand. you need to be able to read people. but that's a power imbalance. and i know the feeling, i want the same with others. but not with you. the reason the offhand comment hit me different is because of all the people in this world, i want to be on even footing grounds with you. for no other reason than this whole time i thought that it was the case. for no other reason than, out of this whole world, to you i have been my most vulnerable. i have shown you more than i can show most people. there is something about you that makes me uncover parts of myself i would have neglected otherwise in a feat of ignorance. to you am i honest and through which i am completely honest with myself. at least, i am learning to be.

so then i was thinking. how much of yourself do you hide away. it is such a fucking selfish thought for me to have. no-one owes anyone anything. you don't owe any part of yourself to me. you are under no obligation to share yourself in entirety to anyone in this world. but i had this thought because i know there have been instances where the inevitable room for judgement has hindered the truth. and that is my fault. i am sorry for the past where i have criticised you and made you feel less than because of my reactions and comments. i just want you to know, that if there is a time where you do open up even a little bit, if you do share a part of your vulnerability, if some of you that is less than desirable comes out for a bit, i will hear you out- human to human. i understand that you may be afraid of being misunderstood. and that is okay. that is an internal obstacle but, i will try my best to listen to you from where you are. i will try my best to understand. i always say you are one of the best blessings that i have been given in this life. i say that i will love you no matter what. now, i retract that last part. instead, i will love you with human nature considered. i will love you despite your downfalls and misgivings. you are human, and there is no-one that roams this earth free of sin nor without flaws. so, i will love you to the extent of which our human condition permits.

what you said, it resonated with me because this is a thought i have all the time about myself in relation to others. i have this issue that stems from a multitude of insecurities which is that i don't feel as though people love me or care for me or even know me because they don't know all the facets of who i really am. they don't know my bad parts or even simply, the parts that are not presented openly and thus, they merely have an idea of who i am, constructed in their head. but that's bullshit. i know it is. i know that, in reality, that's not how it works. we are complex characters; forever shifting and growing; forever being changed by our experiences day-to-day no matter how impactful or trivial. no-one will ever know anyone completely and fully. not even ourselves. we unravel pieces of ourselves each day, and through that, others around us pick up fragments of those small pieces and learn a little more about who we are. they can choose to keep those novel pieces or they can choose to discard them. no matter what happens, those pieces are out in the open, and whatever happens to them is inevitably out of our grasp. and so, every person we interact with has little bits and pieces of a puzzle that create some semblance of who we define ourselves to be. but it is hard to understand this. it hard having this deeply rooted feeling of wanting to be known. it is easy to love and it is universally accepted to be loved. even if we have issues with loving ourselves. to some extent, although frequently questioned and scrutinised, we understand that people can and do love us. but to be known is a different thing entirely. and it is a much harder thing to come to terms with; that no-one will ever know us completely.

the thing is, how much we do know about others and what they know about us, is enough. the people we value, have experienced us in the truest form we are comfortable with being, around them. they perceive us in the way they have observed and through what they have been shown. and that, is enough for them to care about us regardless. likewise, what we understand about them is enough for us to care about them. so, we may not be known completely, but we are still known and that should be enough.

writing this, i don't know how to tread the line between communicating how i feel openly with you or being a nuisance with my sensitivity and insecurities. i do not even fully know what the point of this letter is, just that i wanted to ease some knot inside. i don't want you to feel like you have to watch what you say around me. i don't want you to censor yourself. i don't want you to be burdened by my presence in your life.

however, i won't discredit your capacity to listen.

that is all for now. forever yours,

faz x

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,480

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

Chapter 45: 21st Century Girl

“Whatever other people say, whatever this world tells you, you’re the best to me just the way you are.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Isn’t it early where you are?”

“No, it’s only nine.”

“You look tired though.”

“A lot’s been going on with my new job.”

“I’ll admit, I was a little worried when you said you were quitting your other job. Is that even allowed with the visa you currently have?”

“It’s fine. I applied for another visa through my new company.”

Anastasia sighed, attempting a smile for Jacob. The Skype call had only been going on for about twenty minutes, but it felt like they were talking for hours. She tried to check in about once a week, but with all the hustle and bustle with the company and the ever-blossoming relationship she was in with Seokjin, it was hard to maintain contact in the way she would have liked. Add on the extreme time zone difference and that was how things wound up.

“Is it harder than working for your old job?”

“No,” she said while shaking her head, “it’s about the same workload. I have more responsibilities because I technically got promoted when they hired me.”

Jacob nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. It was getting a little longer than she was used to. He would have cut it by now, but he seemed set on trying out a new image.

She watched him take a drink of water. “Are you happy, Ana?”

Blinking, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his question. Had she given any indication that she wasn’t happy? She hoped not. She didn’t want him worrying unnecessarily.

Again, she smiled. “Yeah Jake, I’m happy.”

Anastasia watched her brother’s eyes furrow from the computer screen. She knew it wasn’t because he didn’t believe her. He just worried a lot and tended to fuss over her unnecessarily. It was the role Jacob chose to play since he was the second-born. They were only two years apart, but they were thick as thieves and she appreciated how close they were despite her being the oldest of her three siblings. Their baby brother, Phillip, was still just starting college while Elena just graduated from her university. Their parents were still harping on about practicality when it came to their futures, something that both Anastasia and Jacob despised. They should have all been allowed to choose the paths they wanted to live, regardless of the outcomes.

“Well,” he finally said, shrugging one shoulder, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

Relief washed over her and she sank back in her chair a little more, cradling the mug of green tea in her hands. Her hand slid from the handle to press a palm to her stomach, a warmer smile touching her features. She must have looked a little silly because the sound Jacob clearing his throat loudly startled her from her thoughts. When she peered back at the screen, his face was a little closer, as if he was leaning forward to look directly into her eyes.

“So, are you finally dating someone now?”

She coughed loudly, sitting up and quickly setting her mug down on the desk by her keyboard. “W-What?” Anastasia attempted to wrangle the words that were escaping her. “What’s with the interrogation anyway?”

Again, Jacob shrugged. “I know you dated that one guy, but that’s it.” He leaned back in his chair, lounging lazily. “Just figured you were seeing someone new.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm, her hands fidgeting until Anastasia started twirling a few locks between her fingers. It was a nervous tick that she hadn’t been able to break and there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon. She’d be an old woman pulling at her thinning gray strands until they put her in the ground.

Jacob laughed, realizing he’d caught her in his cleverly laid trap. If he was within arms-reach, she would have shaken him like a rag doll. “Your face gives away everything. It’s why you suck at poker.”

“Shut-up,” she muttered.

Another window suddenly popped up, notifying her that she had another call. She stared at the screen as Seokjin’s name and picture appeared in the window. Her eyes lowered to the corner of the monitor, spying the time, and she wondered why he was calling. He’d given her the rest of the week off so she could adjust to all the hormonal imbalances that came with her pregnancy. Talking with her brother was part of the whole routine check-up bit, but she really wanted to talk to him about her being with child.

“Hold on, Jake. I have another call.”

“Sure.”

She put her brother on hold, answering Seokjin’s call. When his face popped up on the screen, Anastasia could only stare at how uncomfortably close his face was to the camera. Neither of them said anything. She was too startled to speak and he apparently was trying to read something about her. He did this often when he was trying to catch her in some kind of lie or if she was secretly up to something.

“Seokjin,” she finally said, blinking, “what are you doing?” Anastasia looked over his shoulder to see if he was in his office. “Shouldn’t you be, oh I dunno, working or something?”

“Why are you on the computer?” he asked suddenly. “I gave you the rest of the week off to rest. Not so you could stare at a monitor.”

Anastasia sighed. “I’m talking to my brother. Why?”

“You can’t talk on the phone?”

“Phone calls are expensive. Skype is free.”

He gave her a dissatisfied look. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious! Why are you calling me on Skype if you’re worried about me being in front of a monitor?”

“Because you won’t answer your phone!”

“My phone’s dead and I’m charging it!” Anastasia puffed out one of her cheeks. “Geez, you’re impossible.”

He frowned, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes before leaning back in his chair. “…are you hungry?”

“Am I hung—what?” She looked back at the clock to make sure of the time. “It’s still early!”

“You should at least eat breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be working? Go back to work!”

Without waiting for his response, she hung up the call and went back to the window her brother was on. Jacob was busying himself with scribbling some notes on a notepad.

“Sorry about that.”

He looked up at the screen, setting his pen down. “Who was that?”

“A potential headache.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just a headache.”

Jacob smirked. “Yeah? Sounds like a boyfriend to me.”

“Jacob Martin!”

He laughed loudly, holding a hand up as he patted the air. “Okay, okay. I get it. Dropping it now.”

Anastasia smiled as she sighed, realizing how much she missed her brother being around. He mentioned coming to visit from time to time, but between working and trying to find his place in the world, she knew that it was almost impossible. Air fare wasn’t cheap and while she could afford to fly him out if he wanted, there was the internal worry about him judging her ties with former gangsters. Their home life wasn’t peaches and cream, but it was far from unsavory. What family was perfect?

Even so, she still wondered what her brother would think of her if she told him she was having a child out of wedlock.

Once the heavy topic of her work environment was no longer the focus, the two of them were able to engage in lighter conversation. Again, Jacob mentioned coming to visit her in South Korea, mostly because he wanted to see the country she’d called home for the last three and a half years. The place was full of beauty and splendor. There were many things about the land that helped heal her from the horrible fall she’d had over her broken dreams. While she may not have been a chef and restaurant owner like she wanted, her current occupation brought her to this place.

The path she walked led her to Seokjin, the man she loved.

Half an hour passed and she realized that it was getting late. She worried that she was keeping Jacob up longer than normal.

“You should probably get some rest,” she said, noting the tired look in Jacob’s eyes, “you have the overnight shift this week, don’t you?”

Jacob stifled a yawn. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I need to make sure that Phillip did his homework.”

“Let Elena worry about that.”

He nodded, waving a hand back and forth to her. Anastasia wished to ruffle his hair like she often did when they were teenagers. A painful wave of nostalgia overtook her and she did her best not to cry, cursing herself for all the pregnancy hormones throwing her out of whack. Jacob didn’t seem to notice as he finished off his bottle of water.

“Mm, alright. I guess I’ll try to get some sleep. G’night, ‘Stasia.”

Anastasia rubbed at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Goodnight, Jake.”

The blip noise sounded after the call ended and Anastasia was left with only silence. She curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as she buried her face into her knees. A weak sob was all she could muster, mourning the lack of family around her to tell her that everything was going to be okay. That her worries would be for nothing and that she would be happy. That she deserved to be happy, despite all of her failures.

For a moment, all she could do was sob quietly to herself. There were so many missed opportunities to empty her soul to her brother. He would have understood and encouraged her. Jacob would have told her that she was strong, that she was one of the strongest people he knew, and that this little bump in the road was just one pothole on the way to glory. Their parents would have told her she was shameful for carrying another man’s child when she hadn’t even so much as been introduced to his family. That it was a disgrace to have a child as an unmarried woman. People did it all the time, but not her family. Not the D’Angelo’s.

Anastasia didn’t know how long she was curled up in her chair. She was pretty sure that she’d drifted off at some point. Her limbs ached from scrunching herself up into a ball and they protested as she tried to straighten herself out. A hand rubbed at her stomach while the other wiped the moisture from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” she whispered, rubbing circles over her belly, “I didn’t mean to cramp you up like that.”

She stretched her legs out, then her arms, before standing. Grabbing the mug, she made her way downstairs. She’d barely made it into the kitchen before the front door burst open and in walked Seokjin, looking flustered and haggard. The mug slipped from her hands and fell into the sink with a loud clatter as she spun around the moment he stalked into the kitchen.

“W-What are you doing?!” Anastasia managed to stammer out, taking a step back as Seokjin quickly closed the distance between them. “You’re supposed to be at work!”

“You hung up on me!”

“That’s because you were acting crazy!”

Anastasia peered around him, hoping that Jimin had the wherewithal to at least follow so she could drag Seokjin back to the office. She frowned, ducking under his arm and bolting from into the living room. He was practically on her heels.

This was insane!

Stopping short, she whirled on her heels and Seokjin had to raise himself up onto the balls of his feet to keep from crashing into her. She stuck her hand out.

“Phone. Now.”

He blinked down at her. “What? No!”

“Gimme the phone, Seokjin!”

His eyes narrowed, issuing his silent refusal. Anastasia didn’t care as she took a step forward, her hands lunging out to reach into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way and her fingers quickly found the item. When he tried to snatch it back from her, she twirled so that her back was facing him.

Her thumb slid over the dots to form the pattern needed to unlock his phone and she immediately dialed Jimin. As the phone rang, Seokjin tried to take the phone back but Anastasia was already half running, half jumping up the stairs toward the loft. Jimin answered before the second ring could finish.

“Hyung! Where did you go?!”

“Jimin-ah, you tell your boss to take his ass back to work!”

“A-Ana Noona? What are you—?”

“Do you hear me?” Her feet landed on the top step and she turned around to stick her foot out, her heel planting itself against Seokjin’s chest to keep him from moving any closer to her. “He has fivemeetings today and one of them is in twenty minutes. How could you let him leave the office in the first place?!”

“I’m sorry, Noona. I tried! But Seokjin Hyung hit me. He hit me in the chest and I was horrified!”

She shot him a glare. “He did what now?”

“He’s never hit me. I didn’t know what to do! I was caught off guard! I’m sorry. I’ll come over right now.”

Anastasia hung up the phone and tossed it back to Seokjin. She then pointed downstairs. “Out.”

He pouted. “Anastasia, come on…”

“Go back to work!” Her eyes narrowed. “If I end up having to take you backto the office, I’m going to work and I’m gonna make every second of your life a living hell while I’m there. Do you understand me?”

Seokjin gave her the once over, as if trying to surmise if she really would do it. He knew better. At least she hoped he knew better. She was as stubborn as a mule and if he thought, for even one second, that she was playing around, then he’d rue the day he ever hired her. She wasn’t going to back down from this and an angry pregnant woman was not a variable that Kim Seokjin would be in a hurry to deal with.

After a moment, he sighed and leaned against the wall. “…alright, you win.” He held his hands up, turning to head downstairs. “I’ll go.”

She stayed upstairs, waiting to hear him put on his shoes and open the door. When she didn’t hear it close, however, Anastasia smiled and shook her head. “I’ll see you tonight,” she called down to him, “have a good day.”

“…love you.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly and she walked down a few steps so she could see his pitiful face.

She laughed.

“I love you too.”

Congratulations, NAY! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE LOVERS with the faceclaim of ASHLEY MOORE. Admin Cas: I think we can all agree that The Lovers is a difficult concept to pin down. It’s a task in itself to balance the devotion they have for The World, her world, while not sacrificing who they are at their core. But, Nay, you were certainly up to the task. There’s something so lovely about Prudence, so beautiful and admirable, but something hungry. So much of her life revolves around The World, but that does not mean that Prudence doesn’t have a story of her own to live out. I particularly enjoyed the way you likened her story unfolding to a caterpillar grows into its chrysalis; to become a butterfly or moth, either is possible. I can’t wait to see what you do with her!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

Out-of-Character.

NAME: nay 

PRONOUNS: she / her

AGE: twenty-two

TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: gmt + 5 ; and i’d say my activity ( especially with quarantine, still ) is at a 7/10. lately, i have been trying to write every day, and that means at least a reply every day – even if posted through queue after being written on a better writing day. 

ANYTHING ELSE?: i wrote this way too quickly, because i suck at being patient and didn’t want to wait a week to turn in an app, so forgive me for the sinful typos committed in my haste! this definitely isn’t as polished as i wish it were. also? there are possibly too many insect-facts in this and if that shit squicks you, i am so sorry.

In-Character.

SKELETON: the lovers

K E Y W O R D S 

UPRIGHT: love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices

REVERSED: self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

| source: x

NAME: prudence “prue” luna lockhart

→ ETYMOLOGY ;

P R U D E N C E / “intelligence; discretion, foresight; wisdom to see what is suitable or profitable;” also one of the four cardinal virtues, "wisdom to see what is virtuous;" from Old French prudence (13th Century) and directly from Latin prudentia “a foreseeing, foresight, sagacity, practical judgment,” contraction of providentia “foresight” (see providence). Secondary sense of “wisdom” (late 14th Century) is preserved in jurisprudence.

L U N A / “the moon,” especially personified in the Roman goddess answered to Greek Selene; also, an alchemical name for “silver”; from Latin luna “moon, goddess of the moon,” from PIE *leuksna- (source, also: of Old Church Slavonic luna “moon,” Old Prussian lauxnos “stars,” Middle Irish luan “light, moon”), suffixed form of root *leuk- “light, brightness.” The luna moth (1841, American English) so-called for the crescent-shaped eye-spots on its wings.

L O C K H A R T / Scottish: of uncertain origin, probably from a Germanic personal name composed of the elements loc 'lock', 'bolt' + hard 'hardy', 'brave', 'strong'. English: occupational name for a herdsman in charge of a sheep or cattlefold, from Old English loc 'enclosure', 'fold' + hierde 'herd(er)'.

| sources: x & x

FACECLAIM: zendaya coleman ( or ashley moore or natali litvinova — in order of preference! )

AGE: three-&-twenty for zendaya / four-&-twenty for ashley or natali

→ BIRTHDATE: fantasy-equivalent of july 8th; the most cancer baby there ever was!

DETAILS: it took me forever to find a skeleton that made me feel the enduring love i’ve been searching for beyond the ability to see a story, and as it always, unfailingly, tends to happen for the rare occasion where i opt for a softer character, it caught me completely off-guard. initially, surveying the tags, i was leaning towards the skeletons of the wheel of fortune, the hierophant, the devil, the hermit – all of whom, in my opinion, are characters who have been shaped by a darkness, be it inherent or inflicted, that’s rendered them with shadows or edges. with the lovers, that’s not the case. they are tender: like a paramour’s kiss, or a bruise, or an overripe peach you can sink your fingers into. and maybe it’s my unflinching desire to subvert the stereotypical presumption of what it is to be soft, the fragility noted in their skeleton does not translate to weakness or meekness to me; i enjoy that they are both tender, and possess the ability to be chaotic, and manipulative, and impulsive and desperate and vindictive and defensive. what i love most about this particular skeleton is the sheer humanness of them.

that, and their love for THE WORLD. for a moment there, that was definitely what drew me to them; this idea of love as religion had my mind reeling like a siken poem, rhapsodising about a love so powerful, it can alter a person. this is partially because i am the most hopeful and shameless of romantics, and partially because love, its nuances, and its powers and vulnerabilities genuinely, deeply interest me. however, working my way deeper into this application-form, that changed.

it is the love that the lovers — or prue, to me, now — holds for THE WORLD is one that attracted me. it is her own potential for growth that’s kept me in her clutches, besotted, wishing to tell her story. hers is a tale, i believe, of metamorphosis: a question i posed in a later section, as well as what lurks in my mind, is whether that metamorphosis is one that leads to a moth or a butterfly. did you know it is moths who come from cocoons, but butterflies who come from a chrysalis? moths, who are drawn to light. butterflies, who drink nectar, also help spread the seeds to grow more of the flowers. both which come from a caterpillar, whose first meal is typically the egg they come from. what i enjoy is the ambivalence that presents itself — or, as i like to call it: potential. there are several directions that prue’s story could go in, several choices that could define her, and it’s all up in the air until it isn’t anymore.

i wish i could tell you that my EUREKA! moment wasn’t insect-research, but i can’t, because that would be a lie. i’m not even sorry. 

BACKGROUND: 

☉ CONTENT WARNING(s): infant death, stillbirth, body horror imagery, insects

come, dear reader, won’t you settle in? let me spin you a tale—a tangled web of one, indeed—about a girl who smells sweet as white roses and is as satiny to touch as her gossamer-thin garments. this girl is just a girl; she has never been the girl. even so, this story is her story, and though she is not equipped to be the heroine of a story, or so she believes, she is the heart of this one. like a heart, she is swollen with the fullness of blood: thus, let me etch this tale into parchment with the blood of love, in crimson-ink of metallic-reek. 

it comes in three parts: a beginning, a middle, an ending; it is for you, dear reader, to decide which is which. 

let us anoint this tale the title of METAMORPHOSIS –

✧✧✧

i. THE EGG ;

before there is the girl, there is a man and a woman who live in faerûn by the sahrnian sea, bound together by a contract that is decidedly not the forest-fire love faerie-tales herald. yet that is not to say that love never comes, just because love comes after. when it does, it is a calm love, a steady one; a love that has never cost one to lose one’s mind, and has been grown, meticulously, over the passage of time and the trials and tribulations have littered the path of a match made by those who are older and have witnessed so much more life than them. it is not for years that the woman feels nature stirring within her body’s vessel, and when it does, it is with the undying bestowing upon her a gift that makes up lost time. 

when the girl comes, she comes from a belly more full than most. it makes sense that it is so, for there were meant to be two of them: a boy, and a girl. one might suppose that, in the end, there still were, yet only one in the way it mattered. 

( you decide, dear reader: which is which? ) 

she is born — and it is days, and days, before her time. no matter, a name still awaits her. prudence, they call her. pierce, he would have been.

from the beginning, she emerges from the ruddy cave of her mother’s womb incomplete. a greyish pallor remains where life ought to be warming her skin; it is as if he leeched enough life from her for him to choke on, and she siphoned her brother’s death through the connection only womb-mates share – and this is what she will hear in later years, when she asks about him. 

she will wish she hadn’t.

✧✧✧

ii. THE CATERPILLAR ;

( when you feel unforgiving, dear reader, remember: it is a caterpillar’s job to eat; without an abundance of consumption, it cannot survive. it is this abundance of consumption that allows for the production of silk. it is this same abundance of consumption that is its undoing. )

years do not care if one is ready to bear them; they come, when they must, as they must. and so comes to pass the childhood that tries to swallow prudence lockhart whole, over and over and over –

as an infant, blood is filtered out of her body and fresh blood poured into her veins. it helps, some. it does not help enough, yet there is nothing more to be done; her parents must take her home, and pray to the undying god for the rest. they pray, and pray, and pray, as two people of noble blood and lucrative business-dealings rarely stoop to, for lack of need to need it.

as a child, prue is still a frail slip of a thing, with bones jutting out against taut bronze flesh in protest. fill yourself up, her mother pleads. you must survive, beloved. she offers her savory meals and sweet decadence twice, and anything she takes a suggestion of a liking to just as many times more — and it works; it takes time, but work it does, and prue’s cheeks round some and at times flush rosily, some weakness giving way to the minute miracles that are her tardy signs of life. it is not much, but it is enough, isn’t it? it is to the mother who has warred for her existence. who still combats for prue’s survival. 

when does the girl begin to feel that it might be her that her mother is fighting, when every frustration about her lessness, her inherent lessness, begins to steal the breath from prue’s lungs – for is it not her who is all poetry & rot, wisp-thin & about as flimsy? her heart fills with hot, vital blood then: it beats loud and clear as a belltower’s toll, cutting through all else with the potency of its truth. this is as much as i am, she beseeches in turn, as her mother had once done, except not, for graceless tears roll down her cheeks in impassioned rivulets and the voice that thickens with feeling.

how will you survive the world, beloved? her mother implores.

i might not, prue knows. i might not, she accepts.

it is the caterpillar’s destiny to unbecome –

✧✧✧

iii. THE CHRYSALIS ;

– unbecoming takes time.

it takes long enough that both mother and daughter grow used to it, initially, and then around it, ultimately. 

there is, after-all, the distraction of warfare engrained in the backbone of their precious faerûn. there is the journey to tyrholm, the settling into the dregs of hightown – not quite lowtown-bound, and not-quite-not. it fazes her parents to not be profound upper-echelons of society; her father, a man used to running the business inherited by the men in the lockhart family, and her mother, who had spent all of her time worrying for prudence and never had to about wealth. but prue, for her part, is accustomed to the notion of not-quite-right / not-quite-enough; the feeling might not be home, per se, and yet she recognises the walls of the house all the same – could walk its rooms in the dark, if she had to.

it is circumstance that calls the lockharts to castle tyrholm. 

it tears at her parents: her father believes in not squandering opportunity, and her mother would rather squander anything but prudence. even THE EMPRESS sees it, does she not, when she cants prudence’s head and observes her fragility? the king’s reputation precedes itself; would a heart as true and innocent as hers survive a court like his? within minutes, it is too late to ponder it any longer. within minutes, it is no longer a choice, but a deal already struck. just like a match: it cannot be unstruck. one can endeavour to douse a fire, but it is not the same as un-starting it.

for a time, the castle is one more place prue does not feel she belongs; it is alright, she tells herself. you are alright, she says – because her mother is no longer by her side telling her anymore, is she? silken thread ensnares the girl when THE WORLD knocks on her door one evening; it is lilly-white, the radiance of their smile. prue does not understand why, then; she is nothing exceptional, she flounders for the right thing to do, and even then, she gets it wrong so much more often than she ever gets it right. perhaps, she will never understand why – why they are so kind, why they make her feel seen, why… 

and still, this once, there is no question of whether it is enough. they are more than enough.

for the first time in her life, prue discovers what it is to be warm.

✧✧✧

tell me, dear reader – is this a butterfly’s or moth’s metamorphosis?

PLOT IDEAS: 

❂ “love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like religion. it’s terrifying.” – richard siken  

see, i told you: siken’s poetry reeling through my mind. religion is a really interesting ideology to link the notion of love to, because there are so many boundaries one crosses in the name of faith. at times, we call it the lesser evil. other times, we say it’s letting the end justify the means. we’re all trying to be holy. 

this is where i want to start discussing potential plots for prue — but i want to, first, preface it by saying that though THE WORLD is very much at the centre of her story, it is because prue’s unparalleled love for them is central to her life-story; i treat it like an experiment, where prue is the dependent variable and her love for THE WORLD is the independent variable that incites action & reaction, placed in different situations. it is, that said, the most potent of variables, and can hardly be called controlled, despite how desperately prue herself attempts to keep it to the corner-alcove they hide the truth of their love in. this love is not a selfish love; it is strong, and all-consuming, and maddening – more than a soldier’s swearing fealty to a kingdom, it is the most devout of prophets bowing their head at the altar of the divine deity they put their faith in. that’s pretty intense stuff, right? i want to see what it elicits.

this can be a double-edged sword, and in fact, i’d be rooting for it to be. on one hand, i want to explore how this love has made prue strong. i want to see how it has made her braver, and more resilient. i want to explore that she took THE EMPRESS deeming her fragile-seeming, and how she’s donned it as armour, because it is that same delicacy that has made THE WORLD love them. i want to explore it through interactions with the royal family foremost — THE WORLD, of course, but THE EMPRESS, THE EMPEROR, THE CHARIOT, and if it works out, maybe even septimus himself. it’s rare for prue to not let things slip, and roll off her back, but that is when it comes to her. her love for THE WORLD makes her want to protect them, fiercely; it lights a fire in her soul that has never been lit before. and fire? yes, it warms – but oh, it burns, too, doesn’t it? it has the power to ruin. and i don’t want to limit that exploration to just the royal family; i want to explore it with the animosity-potential between her and TEMPERANCE as well, but that’s one plot i’ll talk more about further down. 

there are little ideas floating around in my head that i would love to explore with the respective players, but i could imagine a friendship between prue ( probably due to her sweet-tooth luring her, too often, to the kitchens ) with THE HANGED MAN – and to explore a bond, that could further be complicated, potentially, by prue not being able to talk about what she and THE WORLD share. or, more chaotically: for her to share it, and for THE HANGED MAN to let it slip to THE DEVIL? how far would prue go to protect this? and would she, if it presented the opportunity for the future where she and her love get to be together is pushed closer by it? how selfless is her love? how powerful would fear be against it?

i’m honestly just a firm believer that, when our backs are against the wall, that’s when we find out who we really are. and that’s the main storyline i want to explore with prue, more than anything else, because i think that she has never been pushed to that edge and, because of it, she’s never copped up to her own identity. she met and fell in love with THE WORLD at such a young age, so quickly and wholly, that it has shaped so much of what her ideal self is. i want to see how her ideal self would differ from the reality of her. and i want to see her confront it.

❂ “you are going to break your promise. i understand. and i hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that i will not hate you.” – catherynne m. valente

very recently, someone put forth an idea to me: love is a promise. that’s what i want to talk about here. there’s a sense i got — both from the lovers’ skeleton, and THE WORLD’s — that both of them know that there is a time-limit on their relationship. or, at the very least, whatever room there is for prue in their future, it isn’t a room where they share the bed. but i also get a sense that they know it, and neither of them talk about it. i think a part of prue feels like the amount of good that THE WORLD has brought her will last her a lifetime, and i think that isn’t true, so much as she’s hoping it is? i want to see the two of them talk about it. i want to see prue wanting them to fight her love. i want prue to admit she wants to be chosen over duty, or a marriage with someone who isn’t her, or fear, and i want to see what something like that would do to their relationship. or hell, i want someone who has power over THE WORLD, like THE EMPEROR, or THE EMPRESS, or THE CHARIOT or THE HIGH PRIESTESS to find out about the true nature of their relationship and force that choice once they even start talking about, so the situation can force their hands even if they don’t force one another’s.

there’s so much between the two of them i want to dissect and play with, it apparently needed to separate quotations. oops?

❂ “all things truly wicked start from innocence.” – ernest hemingway 

we all have the occasional ( or perhaps more, no judgement! ) propensity for wickedness. i feel really passionately about softer people not being safe from cravings for chaotic behaviour, even if they might, in prue’s case, justify it through the innocence of intention. a lot of her initial effusion is of a heady amalgamation of sweetness and delicacy; i want to see her display a dash of something that takes leave from that, and surprises even herself. now, though not at all set-in-stone and totally up to be discussed with the respective player, i could easily see it rearing its head in the dynamic between herself and TEMPERANCE. how many times will she be shooed away from a room with a beautiful woman and the love of prue’s life? it terrifies prue, the idea that THE WORLD will slip out of her fingers like the sands of time, so much sooner than she is ready for. i’m curious: would there be a moment where she would not leave? where she would make the nature of their relationship known? would she ever snap back, or continue to smile tenderly, bow her head, and listen?

i’m also dying to explore the potential plot brewing between the lovers and DEATH. part of this is a total shot in the dark, so bear with me, but – imagine this: there is a darkness in them that tugs at the darkness in her; they are hungry, and she is a starving-thing, and what a pairing they could make. imagine prue venturing into lowtown with them, and for the alternative reality DEATH’s hunger dangles that could open a door to an actual future with THE WORLD? i want there to be temptation — towards darkness and chaos, yes, because i am a sucker for moral ambiguity, but also for the loyalist that prue is to be lured by the revolt. 

❂ “you cut up a thing that’s alive and beautiful to find out how it’s alive and why it’s beautiful, and before you know it, it’s neither of those things, and you’re standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.” – clive barker

it is difficult for even me, as i delve into prue’s psyche, to be a wordsmith adept enough to encapsulate the sheer magnitude of her love for her lover. let me tell you this, though: it is love that is devout enough that prue would sacrifice herself before it. she would shirk what she believes she knows of herself to fight for THE WORLD. but there is little in the universe free of the shackles of consequence. it feels inevitable to me that, at some point, sooner or later, prue will commit an action or reaction in the name of love — and then, she will have to live with it. it’s even better to me for her to go beyond her limits for this love that is everything to her, and then find herself turning to them to sacrifice for her as freely as she does them… and for them to, perhaps, not be able to. or perhaps, for it to turn prue into a person she herself can no longer recognise. there was a part of me that wanted to already cook something up, and to toss it into the writing sample portion, but i decided otherwise. if i get to write this character, i want to start in a place that is different, and develop my way towards a darker pasture, so to speak.

a darker pasture, however, is where i want her to at least visit. in a setting such as this one, i don’t think it can be helped, truthfully.

❂ “each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” – anaïs nin

while i was trying to knit this application together into one whole piece, a recurring concern for me has been that i want this character to have its own story, and the lines of that can get awfully blurry when the character is one the feels as intensely as prue lockhart does. she is such a hypersensitive creature; more than anything, it is her interactions that penetrate her, and alter her, and cause the discord between the sides that are wont to tug at her, who stands in the most Lawful Neutral of spots. i’ve decided to lean into it, though, because i genuinely believe that it poses an intriguing dichotomy between her inherent nature and the nurture that moulds it beyond the obvious, magnitudinal parental hand in it. that said, there are actual several different potential connections i want to toy with here. ( one of which is THE HANGED MAN, but i already mentioned that above, and didn’t want to be repetitive! )

THE MAGICIAN / listen, prue is so used to being the Softest. but this little baby is even softer than her, and every time they flinch, she just wants to help. she tries, at every turn, to be kind and i really want to see her become a friend / confidant for them? maybe learn about their magic. to maybe give them a secret of her own back ;) gal pals, gimme. i need something wholesome; it can’t all be agony & ecstasy, god damn it.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE / it is pure coincidence that throws the two of them together as often as it does. but prue is the sort to believe the best in people, and is never too arrogant to admit where she’s been wrong. this bond is where her feelings towards magic first begins to see development, and i am so, so, so interested in toying with it. even more so when you throw in their bond with THE EMPEROR — does faze prue a little — and his relationship with THE WORLD in there. such potential for growth and drama.

DEVIL / for years, every time prue has seen them, she has walked in the other direction. otherworldliness is unnatural enough as it is, but the proof of what they can do scars them with evidence of it – and so, out of genuine fear, she’s evaded them. and yet, coincidental interactions with the WHEEL OF FORTUNE has made prue think twice. a look at the haunting in their eyes has made her think thrice. i want to play with that dynamic!!!

THE MOON / hers is the only magic that does not scare prue, i think. it is the only one she is not too intimidated to ask questions about, because she truly is extremely curious when she takes an interest in something, and a lifetime of listening in the background has given prue a taste for stories. i feel like she could bring out something adventurous and wild within prue? a part which prue never got to explore, because she grew up with a very, very cautious mother who kept a very close eye on her and treated her like glass because prue really does look fragile. i want a bond to make her feel stronger!

THE STAR / if there is one thing that prue has grown up to be, it is a true romantic. it makes him something of a kindred spirit; something in her could reach out to something in him, creating a kindred bond that makes her feel seen in a way that only THE WORLD has ever given her.

THE TOWER / because she was raised right by it, the sea is where prue feels most at home, and she always has. i could see there being something about THE TOWER’s stories making her feel warm inside, and thus, her braving a friendship with them. i think she could use the wisdom of someone older? and there’s just something about them that made prue shyly scuff her toe at the ground, like – an oliver twist moment of, “can i have more, please?”

THE FOOL / stories talk about princes and princesses. the dragon’s fire, the nobel steed. prue looks at him, and she wonders: where are the stories about them? the princess’ lover, and the king’s soldier – those who fight for the crown, without wearing it. it could make for such an unlikely bond, but such an intriguing one, i think? i got the idea, and i just could not shake it. humour me!

and 0f course, there is potential with literally every other character, too, but i honestly ran out of time before i could come up with something for them too. i’m down to flesh it out~

❂ “we grow. it hurts at first.” – sylvia plath 

at the start of her story, prue starts off as a fragile underdog. she turns blossoms into a lover, and it turns her fiercer – which is not the same thing as being fierce, but it’s a start. what i want for her — what any writer wants for their muses, i reckon — is growth. i want prue, who has grown up sheltered and protected, to experience pain and hardship. i want her experiences to call into question what she thinks she knows, flip it on its head, and make her think. i want her to think, and to change her mind, and to change it again. i want her to confront her fears, and her uncomfortable truths, and to experience all the tempestuous emotions she’s spent her entire life keeping at bay, having convinced herself they could shatter her. i want her to unearth her endurance, to test its limits. i want to explore her undoings and remakings. what i enjoy most about her is the volatility of her that most would not see coming, because volatile and tempestuous and emotional is what she is. she is all heart, all the time, everywhere. can you imagine how visceral that has to make every experience?

imagine the potential for growth if she let herself just feel all of it. if she opened herself up, and let the universe rush in, instead of walking on eggshells as she does. just imagine. that’s what i want for her.

CHARACTER DEATH: i could, of course, see prue meeting an end. in fact, there are a couple of circumstances that could make it deliciously poetic, even.

Writing Sample.

They match each other: step for step; right, then left –

Hardly anyone turns to look at the two of them anymore. The two of them, making their way down the hall, with their dark heads leaned close together, like two plants growing towards one another when the sun leaves them for too long. It might be more peculiar to see them apart. There is a strange pride that twists a corner of Prue’s mouth at the unshakeable knowledge of the fact – a hint of tremendous pride at the small, precious claim THE WORLD makes with the statement of their proximity. It is everything to her, and perhaps it is what lends to the smoothness of her gait as they move past the portrait-eyes that scrutinise it, as if they await another of the many stumbles they’ve already witnessed. Prue floats beside them.

Her heart is gone, long-since pressed into the palm of their hand. Does it weigh them down? She could pretend it is why she keeps their fingers curled into the crook of her elbow, helping them carry the heaviness of the heart she’s given away to them; Prue holds fast to that touch with her own hand covering their fingers, unwilling to give up those four pressure-points that burn her flesh through the silk of her sleeve for anything, enough to shield it with the dome of her palm.

“ – Prudence?”

Their hand flinches at the same time as Prue’s grip on their fingers tightens. As if a chill blew in, and froze the marrow in her bones, the girl stills in place. It is not because she recognises the voice. It is because she ought to have done, for what the cant of her head finds is a woman whose gaze mirrors her own: amber-warm, almond-shaped. It is her same mouth that speaks the syllables of a variation of her names that does not belong to her, not as Prue does.

“Mama –” she says, her voice so quiet, she fears it might not reach her.

She is too far away now. Even mere footsteps away, she is too far.   

Extras.

✦ INSPIRATIONS → anne shirley cuthbert – from anne of green gables; tiana – from princess & the frog; missandei of naath – from game of thrones; margaery tyrell / house tyrell – from a song of ice & fire;  madame lebedeva – from deathless; effie trinket – from the hunger games series; jack pearson – from this is us; patroclus – from the song of achilles; 

✦ INSPIRATION TAG → here;

✦ PINTEREST BOARD → here.

The Never Tilting World Review

4/5 stars Recommended for people who like: fantasy, multiple POVs, goddesses, magic, demons, LGBTQ+ romance, strong female leads, kick-ass women, women engineers, disability representation, mental illness representation, characters of color, complex morality I will say that for the most part I really enjoyed this book. The concept is fascinating and the characters and world were splendid. I took off a star because, as nice as it is sometimes to not have every detail of a world explained, with something like magic, it does have to be explained to a certain extent. By-and-large I understand how the 'gates' work, but we're dropped right into the terminology within the first couple of pages without explanation and it was a little confusing and took me a few tries to get at it. Then, I just wasn't a huge fan of Odessa and it does take away from the book a little when you just don't like one of the MCs or narrators, but I'll explain more about Odessa when I get to her. Lan, Tianlan, is the first narrator, so I'm starting with her. She's what's called a Catseye (also something whose we had to figure out figure out ourselves), which means she can heal people or inflict sickness upon them in a form of dual magic. Two sides to every coin, right? I really, really love this idea and think it's a fantastic spin on the typical 'healer' character you see in fantasy. I suppose, theoretically, healers could always turn their magic to use by harming people, in fantasy books healers are relegated to only healing, save for here and in Leigh Bardugo's Grisha and Six of Crows trilogy, where healing and harming are seen as two sides of the same magic, though a person typically has more strength in one than the other, so it doesn't come out quite like it does here. I enjoyed being in Lan's POV because she's caught between wanting to do the right thing by the world that's been plunged into eternal night and also wanting to keep Odessa, her lover, safe. I also thought that Chupeco writing Lan has having PTSD after a pre-book incident was refreshing considering the number of books that just skip over the psychological effects events have on characters. This was also an area where Chupeco turned the 'healer' trope on its head a little, as Catseyes can work with physical illnesses and injuries, but also mental ones, taking on the role of healer and therapist (though obviously not for themselves), so not only do we get to see Lan experiencing PTSD, but we also see her coming to terms with it and seeking therapy-like treatment for it, which is pretty unusual in most novels. Despite being in the 'healer' role and having magic that can infect and destroy if she wishes, Lan is also skilled with a blade and hand-to-hand combat and has something of a quick temper. She's definitely the 'protector' type more than anything else and is striving to make sure everyone comes out alright in the end. Odessa comes next, because I'm grouping the characters based on where they're from and Lan and Odessa are both from Aranth. Odessa is one of the daughter-goddesses in the novel who is unaware her twin is alive. She has some kind of chronic illness that prevents her from being very active without tiring out and that Catseyes have been able to treat but not cure. In the beginning Odessa seems like she'll be a pretty good character, a little too doe-eyed and teary for my tastes, but has plenty of potential. Then she starts to get bratty and doesn't seem to have the ability to logically think things through. From a writing standpoint I really appreciate how complex Chupeco makes Odessa and I think within the plot it's super fascinating. It's even explained to us toward the end why Odessa made the sudden turn from teary-but-okay-princess to brat-with-little-rationale, so I appreciate the cleverness of how the reason was woven throughout Lan and Odessa's chapters for us to find but maybe not pinpoint exactly. However, the great reasoning behind it doesn't stop me from not liking Odessa. The weird power-imbalance Odessa has going on with Lan and their relationship that I'm not a huge favor of. They love each other, great, fantastic, I believe that and I actually think they make a great couple in the beginning of the novel. They certainly have a better set-up for a romance than Arjun and Haidee do, though their 'love' is only marginally slower moving, but I'm just a teeny bit uncomfortable with the power imbalance of Odessa being a goddess/princess and Lan being the person assigned to guard and protect her. It's one thing when Lan is serving the crown in some general 'technical' sense and the two of them are in a relationship and it's another thing entirely when Lan is serving Odessa and her mother directly. It would be better, I think, if Lan wasn't serving directly under Odessa or it was like Lan's previous relationship where both girls were rangers. While Lan has no issues disregarding Odessa's commands, the imbalance is still there and becomes a bit of a problem later, but is never fully addressed, so I'm not sure how I feel about that or about some of the scenes with Lan and dark!Odessa. The relationship has the potential in the beginning and it is, for the most part good, but then once the difference in rank and power becomes clearer and Odessa becomes darker I get just a little uncomfortable with it. Haidee is the other daughter-goddess and she lives in the Golden City on the always-day side of the planet. She's what's called a 'mechanika' in the world, but what we would classify as an engineer. She's quick on her feet, fiery, stubborn, and extremely empathetic. In one of her very first scenes she's crying over a days-dead whale, if that's any indication. As much as I love her determination, smarts, and stubbornness, her ignorance of the world and optimistic attitude do grate on my nerves at times. She's just a bit too happy-go-lucky in some instances, though it largely works out for her. I will be fair, Haidee is one of my favorites, but I feel like Chupeco set things up so that Haidee would always have things work out for her and it seems a bit too obvious at times. Despite my dislike of Odessa, things go wrong for her, sometimes very wrong, and while things do occasionally go wrong for Haidee and seem like they'll be bad, I don't ever really get the full-on sense of dread like I do with Odessa. Arjun and Haidee meet by the whale and their first scene involves them trying to kill each other. Naturally, he becomes her love interest. Arjun is, hands down, the funniest person in the entire book. He has a very dry sense of humor and can be extremely sarcastic. He follows along with the idea of prophecies and with Haidee's ideas a little to mellowly for what I'd been expecting given our introduction to him, which I think says more about the whole 'everything works out for Haidee' but than about him. I also enjoy that Arjun decided to go with a prosthetic magical rifle after he lost his hand (not a spoiler, it happened pre-book). I don't know how they engineer the things they do in the desert, but I just found it amusing that instead of engineering a hand or hook or knife or something they went with a rifle that could channel his fire magic. It really fits his personality, honestly. While Arjun's and Haidee's romance is definitely more power-balanced than Lan's and Odessa's, there are still some holes in it. Mainly that they meet and fall in love within the span of the book, which I'm pretty sure takes place over, like, a month. I love fantasy and dystopian, and sci-fi, but oh my god I am getting sick of the quick romances. Chupeco did a decent job of showing why they fell in love and how they respected each other and became friends before they fell in love, but it's still only been a month. Sorry, but I know 19-year-olds, being one and being in college, and I'm just really not certain that your 'month to love' romance is gonna last. There are different depths to love and you can love more than once, but the insta-true-love, will-survive-anything has just, for some reason, been getting on my nerves lately. Maybe in a couple months or years I'll be fine with it again, but right now I'm just not a fan, even if I do like the characters together. The mythology and general world-building in the book is also something I enjoyed. Chupeco keeps the ideas of duality, sacrifice, and "a demoness is what they call a goddess that men cannot control" going throughout the book. It centers around two young goddesses whose mother(s) are goddesses and a world that somehow stopped spinning and split into only-night and only-day, so there's obviously a lot of mythology and magic going into the base of this book. Since the 'Breaking,' as they call it, neither mother-goddess has really told the twins much about previous generations of goddesses. Odessa gets more of an education about it than Haidee does, but both are still largely left in the dark about their world's mythology, which allows Chupeco to reveal it to the reader in a way that feels natural without info-dumping. There's a lot to do with goddesses, prophecies, and rituals that starts to get unpacked in this one, but which mainly sets up for the sequel. I'm super interested in learning more about the goddesses and rituals in the next book and have plenty of theories regarding them. The duality piece of things is interesting, because you don't necessarily recognize it in the beginning or even halfway through the book. It was more toward the end that I began to see what Chupeco was doing with the night-day, ill-healthy, healer-'plague-giver' sort of balance. The goddesses are twins, as all goddesses before them have been, and that set-up is a fantastic literary device for setting up dualities. You can have the good twin vs. the evil twin, the knowledgeable vs. the ignorant, and so many other varieties, and Chupeco plays with a bit of each in each twin. Odessa knows more about their past from the start, but it's Haidee who learns more about it and their world on the way. Odessa starts out as the chronically-ill sister, but Haidee ends up drained and exhausted. Odessa becomes more and more morally complex and dark but still has soft spots, Haidee is blindingly optimistic but has moments of destructive rage. They're set up to mirror and foil one another, yet each still comes together in the end and finds strength in knowing their twin. The girls are quite similar even though the book sets up a lot of their differences. Without giving too many spoilers I can say that this is 100% reflected in where the plot takes us and the things that are revealed. In terms of world-building I thought Chupeco gave us very distinct settings, creatures, and peoples. The night-side of the world is described as very rainy and cold, with threats of storms, kraken, and icebergs. Though Lan and Odessa are only in the city for a short period of time, I remember the impression I got of it. Old bookstores, tall buildings, dreary because of the rain. This is set against the next setting Lan and Odessa experience, which is the borderlands near the Abyss. While these lands are still dark, there's more foliage described as well as eerie lakes, currents made of air that are strong enough to hold ships, and creatures of darkness and shadow. It is also here where the sky begins to lighten as they move closer to the Abyss and the always-day side of the world. This is even more different from the settings Arjun and Haidee encounter. The desert is vast and deadly, full of dangerous scorpions, an acid sea, and a sea of sand complete with sand-dolphins and sand-sea creatures. The desert is full of raiders and nomadic clans instead of shadow people, but the former can be just as deadly. The Golden City is more steampunk than the night city, Aranth, is described to be. It also seems to be full of snootier people than Aranth does, and all-in-all, despite it being a city run by a twin goddess with a twin goddess daughter, Haidee's city is a very different city from the one Lan and Odessa left. Then there's Inanna's Temple and the Abyss itself, which remind me of dawn and pure darkness, respectively, but still have their own distinct feelings and descriptions. It's very easy to get immersed in the world Chupeco has created here and it's one of those rare world-building experiences that makes me wish I could see it artistically rendered. The Never Tilting World is a good book with unique, distinct characters each with their own strengths and weaknesses that are explored throughout the book. Chupeco writes the characters relatively realistically, meaning they deal with physical and mental trauma as well as tough decisions they sometimes respond to poorly. The Arjun-Haidee romance felt kind of rushed and the Lan-Odessa romance felt like it had a power-imbalance I wasn't 100% comfortable with. Since there is another book, however, and since the Lan-Odessa romance had a lot more promise in the beginning than the middle and end, I'm hoping it'll get itself sorted out. I also dinged the book's score because of terminology that we're left to figure out for ourselves that really would've been better if it had just been explained outright. Definitely think it's a good read, though and would recommend picking it up if you enjoy fantasy.

i’ve been really coming to terms the past few months about my relationship with gender identity and i want to put some of my thoughts on paper. this is is very steam of consciousness so it’ll probably be repetitive or incoherent, but i want to talk about it openly. I PROMISE I’M OK LMAO i just wanna chat to myself

anyone who knows me knows i love dolls. hell, i’m dollkin, of course. and a big part of why i identify with dolls so much is because of physical reasons. a doll can be physically neutral without any sexual characteristics, yet perceived as leaning more towards a certain gender based on how they’re dressed. a ‘girl’ doll may wear dresses and bows and such, but has no true physical gender. if that ‘girl’ doll wanted to, they could be dressed more like a ‘boy’, or stay completely neutral perception-wise. hell, they could wear dresses and bows and skirts and be identified as a boy or as having no gender, in spite of traditionally ‘feminine’ clothing.

i LOVE that. that’s like... an ideal situation to me.

i think another reason i identify so much with the lack of physical gender/sexual traits the vast majority of dolls possess is because i’m asexual and quite sex-repulsed. the thought of ever being around a naked person makes me sick, because i just reeeally don’t want to see any of those parts. i don’t even like seeing my own parts most of the time. i just want to be... nothing.

a lot of my hatred for parts of my body likely relates to my struggles with disordered eating and chronic illness, but that’s an issue for another time.

i would love to have the ability to be neutrally gendered by default. i technically can be if i want to! but because i have ‘female’ physical characteristics, people will pretty much always automatically assume that i am female. i understand it’s an issue to say something like... “having a chest and hips = female!” because that’s absolutely not true, i understand that. but to someone who desires to fit society’s view of what is female, having those characteristics is valuable. yknow?? so it’s not like... an entirely bad concept, if it helps someone be more comfortable and happy with who they are.

by that same token, i bind (safely!) every now and then because i want to be lacking in those physical characteristics, and therefore hopefully perceived as more neutral. hell, i’ve crossdressed before and presented as male for historical reenactment purposes, and i LOVE IT. i love having the freedom to control my gender. it feels so good.

it was easier when i was younger, when i wasn’t curvy. when i kept my hair very short due to abuse, and could easily pass as ‘male’.

these days i spend a lot of time dressed as a stormtrooper or a tie fighter pilot, neutral costumes with helmets with conceal my gender. i cherish the moments i have in those sorts of costumes, largely in part because in those moments it’s not my gender that matters but instead the children i bring joy to, but i digress. there’s certainly a theme with my feelings, though.

i end up feeling most comfortable cosplaying characters of unconventional gender presentation, i’ve noticed.

i had my phase around middle school where i hated the color pink, i hated traditionally feminine things, i never wore skirts or dresses, i wanted the color blue, i wanted pants. i felt weird and out of place trying to fit into ‘girly’ roles. it’s weird to think i was ever in that place, considering my interests now, but it sure did happen. i think a lot of this time might relate to me coming to terms with my sexuality--being asexual, and the struggles of having sexual characteristics--and also realizing i really REALLY like girls. my subconscious thought process might’ve been something like, “boys like girls, and i like girls, so maybe i should be more like a boy?”

i grew up, thank god, in a household that didn’t force me into playing house, playing with dolls, all that stuff. i was welcome to play with whatever toys i wanted, watch whatever shows appealed to me, listen to whatever music i liked. so, i had both barbies and transformers, i had bratz and star wars, i had a mix of ‘girly’ and ‘boyish’ music and movies i enjoyed. i was certainly bullied for this, harshly so, but i’m eternally thankful that my parents have been accepting of me ever since day 1.

for many years i’ve had trouble identifying with being afab, with being a girl, because of my body. i have a hormone imbalance of some sort that does fucked up things to my mind and body, and i suspect i have some sort of issue with, well, the girly internal hardware too, but i’ve been horrified to go to a specialist about that sort of thing because i HATE talking about... those parts, it’s making me feel sick right now. i don’t want anyone looking around down there, EVER.

anyways, my hair grows in absurdly fast and absurdly thick, everywhere, even before i felt pressured to start shaving as a kid. my legs, arms, pits,eyebrows, just everywhere. even my face, i do have to shave my face. it’s... invalidating, i guess, of my supposed ‘womanhood’, so i find myself having trouble calling myself a real girl. i know hair is a natural thing, and i NEVER ever judge other people for it, but i do judge myself.

i’ve often described my feelings as... i want to be a girl, i know on some level that i am a girl. but i’m physically NOT a girl, and i only want to strive for feminine physical traits in some ways, not in others.

it’s a very weird, depersonalizing feeling, considering i’m afab.

there’s also the fact i’m like 6 feet tall, that’s certainly not a ‘girl’ trait. “no one will dance with a tall girl”, the saying goes. i’m leggy and gangly and weird. and somehow curvy at the same time. i look like a joke lol

i wanna mention that i had a phase in high school where if any of my friends asked me what my gender was, i’d just pull up a clip of a la cucaracha horn. that’s still such a huge mood.

ever since i was a kid, i’ve found myself drawn to characters who are androgynous or don’t conform to typical gender presentation, and i’ve never really known why. i figured, maybe that’s my idea of beauty or something? i hate to word it like this but i like... really found myself attached to male characters that presented femininely, or dressed as such, or wear lots of makeup, and i still feel that way? that just feels so safe, so comfortable, so real to me. that’s reflected in my IDs/kintypes too, i really really relate to gender neutral characters, or characters who are ‘supposed to’ be masculine but are feminine instead, or any combination, just... nontypical displays of gender.

it feels so suitable to what i want in life, i think. the same feeling i want to achieve.

funny that pretty much every single character i identify with is a doll/puppet or related to them in some way, too, huh? it all sorta connects, i guess. i value the nonhuman trait of having no definitive physical gender, i guess?

i’ve had people suggest to me before that i’m a demigirl, maybe, but that never felt right. i’ve had people say “hey, sounds like you’re nonbinary” but i just... don’t feel right with that term? just for me personally.

it’s almost like i don’t want to label my gender. it feels so vague, so indistinguishable.

girl a little bit to the left. girl flavored la croix. the tape outline of a corpse at a crime scene, and the corpse happened to be a girl. hint of hint of girl. i don’t feel that all the time, though. sometimes i just feel.. an absence of gender. no gender but with vaguely feminine traits.

at the same time, i worry myself about identifying as a lesbian. i’m only interested in dating people who identify as female, that’s who i end up attracted to. i want a girlfriend, i want a wife.

but if i’m not entirely a girl myself, can i still call myself a lesbian?

well, i’ve never judged or policed other people, so why the fuck am i judging myself? we really are our own worst critics.

anyways, within my close circle of friend-family, i’ve been going by they/them for a while and also neutral terms, for the most part. it feels good, it feels comfortable. it’s not something i’m gonna want 24/7, but sometimes that’s how i’m feeling so that’s the terminology i should use. makes sense, feels good.

i can still be a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend. but i can be a sibling, a datefriend, too. i can use she/her and they/them at the same time, or whenever i’m feeling one over the other

the closest word i’ve found for how i feel is gender nonconforming, but i still don’t want to put a label on myself in this case.

i just wanted to get this off my chest. or... get my chest off. it’s complicated.

you can call me sarah, you can call me medi, you can call me a person who is a girl, a person who’s sort of a girl but sorta not. i dunno. i’m just me.

i thought i had all my identify stuff figured out but these past few months have been Whew

shoutout to my friends for always being so supportive and loving, yall are the best. 

and uhhhhhh thanks for reading, sorry for getting so real all of a sudden.

this may have been brought on because i have a new doll kintype whose gender is a fuck and i was like shit, that’s me, huh!

An @aphsecretsanta gift for @52px !! Sorry about the late submission! Happy New Year!

Pairing: Ancient Rome x China (romechu)

Prompt: Long distance relationship, modern au

I do not celebrate Christmas, but I have an online friend who does.

Warmth seeped through his porcelain mug. Tired, lithe fingers curled around its smooth surface. A gentle press of lips, a small careful sip and the warmth spread through his chest. The morning fog rolled over the cluttered streets of San Francisco. His window presented him a view of Chinatown rising. Mr. Huang sweeping the front of his herbal shop, Ms. Zhou flicking on a neon light reading “welcome” and a “Merry Christmas” in English and pinyin for her bakery. Around them, the Christmas lights, candy canes and snowflakes signaled the end of another year.

He sighed heavily after the sensation passed, shuffling in his slippers towards the desk stationed in front of his window. Picture frames and assorted souvenir figurines decorated the corners of the mahogany desk. One frame pulled a little closer to his laptop than the rest. Wrinkled brown eyes flickered towards that wide spread of lips, those impossibly straight teeth, that youthful glint of mischief in his eyes. He sat back of the chair and took another sip. Jasmine green tea. The warm herbal scent carried many memories. He set the mug down carefully next to the frame and opened the laptop. He’ll enjoy the view better here. It must be nighttime in Italy.

***

He is the festive sort, that does not surprise me. He finds comfort in the company of others. He would send me photographs, selfies, of his travels and home in Italy. His apartment was so little, such home would be filled with many guests, neighbors, young and old. And he, the center of it all. I wonder if he would enjoy celebrating Lunar New Year with me. He’d enjoy the noise. It would be nice to see him happy.

***

He was half expecting it, Romulo wasn’t online. They did stay up particularly late last night chatting about Christmas plans in broken english and the occasional Italian. Yao briefly looked over last night’s exchange.

RV: nd you? you would be spending Christmas alone?

WY: Alone, yes, i’ll vidchat with Chen and his family...you? You would be throwing a ball

RV: Haha not this year. Decided to keep it small Just me nd my boys and my boys boys’ nd my little girl

WY: very small party so unlike you, i’m Concerned

RV: now you know how i feel!! Im always concerned when i hear you spend holidays alone

WY: i’m alright

RV: i know, i jus wish i can go over there nd spend it with you :(

I haven’t felt my heart pulse an ache in a long while. I do wish that could happen, but there is a half a world between us.

***

My name is Wang Yao, I have seen 48 springs pass me by. 48 years of hardships, blessings and everything in between. I have one son, of which I am very proud. Chen is his name, stayed in China and started his life there. He has his mother’s adventurous spirit, he attended San Francisco State. I admit, he was part of the reason why I came to California at all, but I suppose fathers are mostly protective of their children. While he studied, I was the roommate that cooked for him. But I understood fully that sons needed to make life without their fathers. When time and he graduated with a degree in Travel and Tourism, he and his then girlfriend moved back to the mainland.

So mostly, I was alone. I was too old to fully appreciate the costal nightlife and too young to play mahjong with the elders in the afternoons. An unfortunate generational circumstance of a part-time professor whose social life revolved around attending tai chi group in the mornings, afternoon chats with storefront owners and a dull lecture or two in Mandarin in the evenings.

My son worried for me. He does not see as old, he wanted me to find a friend, a “someone” as he put it, with whom to share interests and hobbies with. To attend events and explore San Francisco for no reason other than to have carefree fun.

***

“It sounds like you want me to find you another mother,” Yao joked over video chat one night.

His eldest son, Chen, laughed heartily. On his lap, an 8 month old daughter gurgling happily and wiggled closer towards the phone lens. Yao was very happy he managed a screenshot of her rosy cheeked face.

“Any partner will do,” Chen teased back. “Your children know you were never particular to any sort.”

Yao let out a frustrated sound, his hand twitched as if he could really swat his son a Pacific Ocean away. “You speak without saying anything!” he reprimanded, holding a glint in his eye.

“We just have your best interests in mind,” Chen smiled. “Ay baba, there are how many people in this world and you cannot befriend one?”

“Well, give me a phonebook of all the people in this world and I shall start inquiring,” Yao half-scoffed.

Chen pursed his lips, his baby babbling, “Yi yi yi!”. Yao cooed and sang at her, wanting so much to reach out and hold her.

“How about a forum instead?”

***

And that was how I met him. The world forum website. Chen had discovered its existence through one boring weekend spent on his school campus. It was a language learning forum but it was no secret that it also served as a dating site as it had the option to state that one was looking for a romantic relationship.

Of course what I had to offer was Mandarin, a fluent grasp on English, and some Cantonese. Yet, I did not feel like connecting with people from the mainland or the United States. The forum listed many, even unheard of languages, but none that held my interest for long. I wanted something simple yet unique, something uncommon but had a significant influence throughout human history.

I remember reading “Italian” and remembering how at one point in my life was enamored with the history of the small Mediterranean peninsula. Of all its accomplishments and failures, the dialects, the influence on art and politics. Of all the love and admiration for Italy as a whole.

It felt childish at first, but I was soon focused solely on the Italian threads, trying to start conversations with others within my age range. It was frustrating to find that it was never as easy as it sounded. Some seemed unreachable or plain dull and there was a great imbalance sent to my inbox from men than women. At first it was amusing, sending them off with an “Thank you for your kind compliments, as a man, I am very flattered” but as I was weeding out the active few with other intentions, there was not much left. I was soon logging in less and ignoring the few notifications I receive over the span of the week.

Until a “ciao bella ;)” reached me.

I do not know what intrigued me, it was not much different from the others that were sent and ignored. Perhaps I was in a good mood, perhaps I was in fact in a very bad one. Perhaps his profile did lure me in, as he claims to this day, but I responded:

“Wrong gender, it would be ‘bello’ not ‘bella’”.

Not even a minute passed before my computer alerted me of a new message.

“ciao bello ;)”

***

His name is Romolo Vargas and he is 4 years my junior. He wants to see the world, and he has been in half of it. He has 3 children, two sons and one daughter of which he is very proud. Unlike me, he is divorced and was spending his free time going to places he had longed to go as a child. He has been to Greece and Thailand, France and Estonia, countries whose name I cannot begin to pronounce. At first, I had thought I was an outlet for him to brag about his travels, about the women he wooed, but then he was always asking about what I done, how my day went, and how I felt. As if I was the most interesting man in the world.

Then the first Christmas came and he was insistent on sending me a gift.

***

“Baba, we are glad you found that friend,” Chen said over the phone. “But you never know this man’s true intentions. How do we even know a Romolo Vargas exists?”

“I’m well aware,” Yao muttered, feeling a tinge of annoyance course through him. “I’ll admit he’s a little flirty, but he never gave me reason to doubt his sincerity.”

“It hurts me to say this, truly it does,” Chen muttered. “But what if Romolo is just leading you on? What if this is a game that he plays?”

“On older men and women? Yes, I know,” Yao frowned, his tone a little harsher than intended. “Thought you had said I wasn’t that old to begin with.”

***

They would never understand the late-night conversations I had, of philosophy and bao recipes. While he was rising, I was preparing for sleep. We managed a balance of work and chat. We began to send each other pictures, photographs of our homes, what we see throughout our day and ourselves. There was never pressure or qualm to keep our discussions going, we just carried on naturally.

Then Chen suggested I should get a P.O. box instead. Bright boy.

His first Christmas gift was a small painted black rooster from Portugal, a few collected postcards from previous travels and a 3 page handwritten letter explaining the story of the little rooster, of his New Year plans and his gratitude of meeting me. I never felt so close and intimate to him before. I felt young again.

We carried on, occasionally sending each other trinkets and tokens of a blossoming friendship. I sent him tea leaves, recipes, inkstones and brushes, a book on tai chi and bonsai training. Soon my bamboo plant and bonsai pot was inhabited with little figurines from the entirety of Europe and western Asia.

The next Christmas we gifted each other the trust of each other’s phone numbers. The first video chat on our phones. When we saw each other on our screens, we laughed.

***

“I’m telling you, you look younger than you say you are! Are you sure you 46?” Romolo grinned. His backdrop was his gardens overlooking the coast. His curls, touched with glints of silver and gold lightly kissed his flushed cheeks from a chilled breeze.

“The sunlight suits you,” Yao admitted without another thought.

A soft, silent smile. Yao felt his heart caught in his throat.

“And I bet you capture it beautifully with your eyes,” Romolo muttered.

Yao wanted to hide behind his sleeve like a flustered schoolgirl. It was a sincere compliment, nothing that implied a growing love for him, no matter how he wished for it to be true.

***

This Christmas would be no different. We had agreed on only sending each other a letter as we haven’t been writing to each other lately. Yet, I had sent his favorite box of tea along with a translated poem I wrote in simplified pinyin. A silly little poem about the love of two birds on seperate nests with a grand river in between, using the strengths of their songs to communicate in new echoing melodies. He always expressed his admiration for Chinese calligraphy. I wonder what he will think of the poem. I wonder if he’ll attempt to read the characters himself before reading the translated bits.

I wasn’t so sure Romolo was going to send me something as well but I did not want to anticipate a gift. I’d prefer to be pleasantly surprised.

***

Yao opened another tab on his computer to check on his email, the local news and weather. Another chilly day as expected in San Francisco Bay. He silently debated going out to pick up groceries at the local market. He already gave himself a bread by sleeping in and missing his Tai Chi session. He stretched his lower back until he felt relieving pops. He sighed heavily, eyeing the little black Portuguese rooster. He reached out to grab it from its place between a figurine of the Roman Colosseum and a windmill figurine from the Netherlands. Yao smiled, running his thumb over the painted wing. The shine was mostly gone, but the sentimental par of him will forever remember the first intimate contact they had with one another. Gingerly, he placed “Little Romolo” back in its place, and stood up to make a light breakfast.

The lone click of chopsticks and the drone of a Chinese reporter from a streamed video on his phone were the only sounds disturbing the calm silence of his studio apartment. The cloud filtered sunlight bled through the curtains, casting greyer shadows in the dimly lit corner of his dining area. Yao rested his head on the heel of his palm, his leg crossed over the other, softly flapping his slipper against his heel. It would be nice to share the silence with Romolo. The reporter’s voice would be replaced with that of his low rumbling chuckles and gentle teases.

Yao’s lips curled up in a soft smile. Christmas would be lonelier this year.

He perked up to the sound of his phone buzzing to life. He turned his attention back to his phone and felt his heart leap. It was a message from Romolo.

RV: check yor PO box >:)

His lips spread into a wider grin. Of course the fool sent him something anyway.

Yao lightly brushed his hair and slipped into a light jacket, scarf and boots. He locked the door behind him with a an eager well-meaning click.

He strode down the hills with purpose. Simple, passing thoughts went through him. What if he gotten him a much larger present? A more expensive one? A painting? Yao chuckled at the thought. Romolo was more than capable for pulling such a stunt.

As expected, the post office was moderately busy. People in hoodies, beanies, scarves and the like made lines to send last minute gifts. Yao made his way towards his box, a small sized thing yet perfect for letters and small paintings.

Something caught his eye. His P.O. box had a note on it. Yao furrowed his brow and neared it. The note was in flowy cursive so he took some time to decipher what it said.

Look behind you <3

Yao’s eyes widened, turning around slowly before his gaze focused on a man that no longer blended with the crowd. That spread of lips revealing impossibly straight teeth and a youthful glint of mischief in his eyes. His brown curls stuffed under a beanie, still showing glints of gold and silver. A spread of lips so handsome, it made joyous wrinkles appear around his eyes.

“Romolo?” Yao whispered.

Romolo nodded.

Yao rushed into the man’s open arms, earning the stares of a few curious strangers.

It was him, physically, it was his scent, his arms, his hair, his breath. His voice. “Merry Christmas,” he muttered, wrapping his arms tightly around him in turn.

He must be dreaming.

***

“So I have my hotel room and everything, don’t worry!” Romolo explained quickly, his arms moving about the more he got excited. Yao found it endearing. They had stopped by a bakery to grab a sweet bread to commemorate the moment.

“I realize how it might have been an inconvenience for you, or perhaps,” Romolo chuckled nervously. Yao noted he looked a little older than he last saw him on video chat. He must be jet lagged. “A little strange since I did not tell you beforehand, er, outright.”

“It is a surprise,” Yao said. “But a welcomed one.”

Romolo nodded, his shoulders laxing in relief.

“How long will you be staying for?” Yao asked.

“A week,” Romolo sighed, placing his hands on the table. “I cannot stay out for too long during the holidays.”

Yao felt a hint of disappointment. There was no possible way Romolo will be back in time for Lunar New Year.

Yao eyed his hands and made the first hesitant slow reach for Romolo. Perhaps if he did not stretch it too far, he could pretend he was stretching his arm.

But he felt his fingers get caught. Pale, longer fingers were soon in between darker, thicker ones. They did not say a word, their touch molded around each other, feeling every callous and muscle. The strength of their knuckles and the softness of their pads. Romolo smiled softly at Yao, it wasn’t flirty nor teasing. Sincere. Like they have done this before.

“I’m glad,” Yao muttered.

He’ll save up to surprise him for next Christmas.

the cost of forgiveness

Rating: T Relationship(s): Past Dazai Osamu/Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, some present DazAtsu Tags: Denial, Unrequited Love, One-sided Love, Rejection, References to Unhealthy Relationships Summary:

Atsushi and Dazai go on a date. Akutagawa is the fallout of their happiness. 

for day 7 of @dazaimultishipweek2019​!

-

They’d never gone on dates. The idea seems absurd, anyway.

He told himself that they weren’t that kind of couple. That the hungry kisses that left his lips bruised, the cool, indifferent smirk that was always thrown his way when he was the only one left flushed and panting, the game of power that they’d always play, and that he’d always lose—that was just par for the course. It was just what was normal for them. He knew what their relationship looked like to other people, but it never mattered because he didn’t need approval from other people.

Only one person’s opinion had ever mattered. There’s only one person who’s back he’s forever chasing, only one person that can decide his fate.

He’s staring at that person, right now, and it feels like his fate is that of trash on the side of the road. Like newspaper floating in the sewer, soggy and disintegrating.

He watches through the window in disbelief, as Dazai smiles and laughs.

It looks like a genuine laugh. Dazai is a good actor if he wants to be, but there had always been an edge to him. A coolness, a distance. This warmth that Akutagawa sees in the picturesque little cafe isn’t at all like the Dazai he knows. It’s something that Akutagawa knows can’t really be faked.

You are either part of that world, or you aren’t.

Dazai isn’t. Wasn’t. Couldn’t be.

Nakajima is laughing too, hunched over across from Dazai, lowering his head so that his fringe covers his face a little. Dazai reaches over, placing his fingers under his chin to nudge it up, so that they’re looking in each other’s eyes.

He has a soft expression on his face. He pinches the weretiger’s cheeks and stretches them, his amusement and fondness glowing as Nakajima flounders and pouts.

It’s touching, really.

If it didn’t make him feel so sick.

He stands outside the cafe, in the cold, and watches.

I’ll wait until they leave, he decides. Until Dazai is alone, and then I’ll speak to him.

So he waits.

The streets of Yokohama are apathetic. The people bustle by, unfeeling, not bothering to stop and look at those that they pass by. It’s an apathy that Akutagawa knows well, from his time in the slums. The self-absorbed need to only care about oneself, to ignore the misery around you.

Cruelty isn’t a lack of feeling—it’s a survival tactic.

Maybe that’s why Akutagawa strives to be the most cruel of all. Maybe that’s why Dazai is so strong, so untouchable—his cruelty knows no bounds. He wields emotions like a scythe with an inviolable hand, steel doors locked around his heart so that he can safely juggle others’.

That must be what he’s doing with Nakajima.

It has to be.

As if on cue, the door to the cafe opens, and they walk out together. Dazai’s arm is slung casually around Nakajima’s shoulders. The tips of Nakajima’s ears are pink, the curl of Dazai’s mouth gentle.

And then it happens.

Dazai leans down and Nakajima rises to his tiptoes, fingers curling around the lapel of Dazai’s coat. Their lips meet, and Akutagawa stares, eyes wide.

It’s nothing, really. The barest brush, just a gentle press of their lips together. It’s short, sweet.

Tender.

They’re slow to part, noses brushing as they smile at each other, laughing together for no discernible reason, for no reason other than that they are happy.

It’s not hungry, it’s not possessive. It’s not a battle where one loses and the other wins, there’s no power imbalance at all. It just is.

Dazai never kissed Akutagawa like that.

 .

This is… wrong. This is blasphemy.

Dazai isn’t capable of that kind of feeling. He isn’t capable of that kind of gentle love.

And if he was, the weretiger isn’t the one who deserves it. He isn’t the one that spent years, his entire life practically, chasing after Dazai. He isn’t the one that ripped himself apart, over and over, time and time again, out of yearning. He did nothing to deserve this. Nothing.

So why him?

Akutagawa is shaking, fraying at the seams. Rashoumon prickles against his skin, reacting to his distress.

So he turns to the only salvation left to him.

Anger.

He keeps it bottled up like a solid chunk of metal in his chest, and trails after them, keeping a distance between them and ducking into the shadowy corners of the buildings.

Not that it matters.

Dazai must know he’s there already.

“I have something I need to take care of. Atsushi-kun, you go on ahead.” Dazai says. Nakajima frowns, but relents.

“Okay. See you later, Dazai-san.”

Dazai tsks.

“What did I tell you to call me, Atsushi-kun?”

Nakajima blushes.

“See you later…Osamu-san.”

Dazai gives their linked hands a swing and a squeeze, then lets go. It’s obvious from the way they both linger that they’re reluctant to part, but eventually Atsushi crosses the street and Dazai stands at the corner, watching him go. Then he turns in the opposite direction and casually strolls past the various storefronts, until he arrives at a discreet alcove, a nook between buildings.

Akutagawa follows, brushing past other pedestrians, eyes intent on his goal.

And then he’s there. He has him in front of him, and they’re alone. Together.

“So? What did you want?”

He—

Suddenly, Akutagawa is left wordless, bereft. Why had he come here? What did he want to accomplish? Why, why did—

“Why did you do it?”

Dazai looks past him. Akutagawa hates that.

Look at me, he wants to say. Watch me. Everything I do is for you.

“Why did I do what?”

“Why did you…kiss him.”

Dazai sighs, stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Because I like him. Because we’re dating.”

Something in Akutagawa stops working. He goes blank.

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“It has to be a lie. You’d never. You wouldn’t, not with—not with someone like that.”

In an instant Dazai’s eyes are flashing.

“Someone like what, Akutagawa-kun?”

This, he knows how to deal with. Akutagawa instinctively takes up a defensive stance, familiar with the steel in Dazai’s tone.

This, is the Dazai he knows.

“Someone like him. Someone who’s weak.”

Someone…soft.

Someone from the light.

Someone like Nakajima...with someone like Dazai?

If this is what Dazai wanted, then…what has Akutagawa been doing all this time? Has everything—is everything he is—is it all wrong? It can’t be.

It can’t be.

“Atsushi-kun isn’t weak,” Dazai says. “And I think you know that. He’s stronger than anyone gives him credit for. And it’s the very thing that you despise in him that makes him strong.”

Akutagawa doesn’t understand. None of this makes sense.

Dazai sighs.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry, Akutagawa-kun.”

…What for? This is all the weretiger’s fault. Dazai has done nothing wrong. It has to be Nakajima’s, because if it isn’t—if it isn’t Nakajima’s fault then—it must be his. Akutagawa’s.

For not being good enough. For failing.

But even so, he can’t just give up. He has to continue trying.

He refuses to let go.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you. For how I treated you,” Dazai continues.

The words are like a shock of cold water. He doesn’t understand how to respond, so he chooses to ignore it and say what he came here to say.

“Dazai-san, I can do better,” he says, taking a step forward, voice rasping in his throat. “Just give me a chance. I can do better! I can be better than him. I’ll do—anything. Anything you want.”

Dazai sighs, something in his eyes dimming.

“And that’s exactly why it will never work, Akutagawa-kun.”

He almost sounds...forlorn. Regretful. Like it hurts him to have hurt Akutagawa.

This is wrong. This is wrong. This is all, all wrong.

Dazai is not kind. He is not gentle, or caring, or forgiving.

He is skin rubbed raw, blood underneath your nails, a stern command that you must throw your entire being into fulfilling. Dazai is the unreachable, the untouchable. Being with Dazai is closer to worship than anything else.

And yet, he recalls the way Dazai had carded his fingers gently through Nakajima’s hair, pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Akutagawa-kun,” Dazai says again. “But I have to be going now. Take care.”

No. Wait.

He stumbles forward, hand outreached.

You can’t leave me like this. Not like this.

Dazai’s feet come to a stop.

“Akutagawa-kun,” he says. “Allow me to tell you one last thing. Think of it as a parting gift, from your senpai.”

He turns to look over his shoulder and pins Akutagawa with a gaze so open it’s terrifying.

“Self-worth doesn’t come from the outside. It comes from within.”

The breath in Akutagawa’s chest hitches.

“Goodbye.”

Makoto and Hajime, since it's the week ? :D

Thank you, Chloe~ Sorry I took so long to reply!

I’m really sad the week’s at an end TTvTT It was honestly a rewarding experience, and I’m really pleased with how it turned out (so far... I know some people still with WIPs or said they were wanting to join, but didn’t have time to start, and I hope they submit it later rather than give up!)

Anyways, on with the ask!

From here:  A MORE DETAILED CHARACTER MEME!

Makoto Naegi:

What I like about them

How he had been in the first game was really endearing! Yeah, there wasn’t a whole lot of confidence in himself, but he was still one to try to be optimistic and see the best in people. He’s truly kind and pretty selfless, although a bit of a goof as well XD I think that he was alright of a protagonist! And even in DR3, he had good moments. I liked how he was able to piece together what had been going on using Kirigiri’s clues, and his suspicion of Mitarai as well (from what I remember, that was his own way of connecting the dots?) And while I’m not sure I’ll ever be satisfied with the ending of any conflict, Naegi in DR3 could think fast. He sets up traps for Munakata and made it impossible for him to escape while the wristband was on. I thought that part was clever (even if the following conversation didn’t convince me much)

What I dislike about them

Ehhh, after DR3, my opinion of him lowered. A lot. He ended DR3 played off as the hero when he really, really didn’t do much. And honestly, he couldn’t. The writers wrote that he couldn’t run. That’s a good idea on paper, maybe, but not in execution. Especially considering how he is the protagonist. He ends up relying a lot on Asahina to save him from situations, and even when he does come across situations where he is supposed to be good at, talking to people, it comes off a lot less realistic… kind of forced. I’m wondering if that is a fault on the animation studio’s end, or whoever wrote the final script. Not to mention, when it comes to the very end, Togami giveshima whole squad to get to Mitarai, endangering them all… for Makoto to leave it to Hinata and company in the end lol. And then he gets to be the figurehead of Future Foundation for supposedly defeating the Remnants of Despair… yeah, that doesn’t sit well with me at all XD

Favorite moment:

It’s hard to choose! I think, though, I was most hyped when he showed up as a silhouette in the Investigation part of SDR2 Chapter 6? Him avoiding his execution was really cool, too, though!!! Oh yeah, and my Hi/Naegi heart fangirls over that one scene where they nod at each other XD

Least favorite moment

Mostly DR3 moments, lol. Especially the last episode! Like I said, Naegi was made to be the hero after failing to get there to Mitarai. He just hardly does that much in the grand scheme of things. In DR1, even if he leaned a little heavy on Kirigiri, it is him who was targeted a lot by the mastermind, and him who broke everyone’s despair away. In DR3, he kind of does it with Munakata, and then no one else. Just the way the game was designed made it so that he hardly knew most of the victims, and he was split away from even Kirigiri, who really did most of the work for him.

As for a non-DR3 moment… the bathhouse scene lol. The fan-service scene is really out of character. My first time with DR1 was with the anime, so such a scene was skipped, thankfully.

A situation with this character that I want to see explored more

I want to see how he gathered up the remnants, and all the things he had to do while watching DR2′s killing game. I’m really curious about how he confronted Kamukura specifically, and why it is he had no clue this Hajime Hinata wasn’t Izuru Kamukura. I mean, sure, Remnants of Despair may have changed themselves drastically, but Hajime was even more so, and it was not necessarily changes due to Despair. Also, meet up with Komaru please???? Interactions with Hinata???? His parents were just forgotten????

An interesting AU for this character

I’m so bad at this because all I’ll ever come up with is a fantasy AU XD He’d be the gardener or something that somehow is able to save the princess from a raid by an enemy kingdom and they somehow gather up morale and he ends up leading the rebellion and saves the day without having ever lifted his sword. Something like that XD

A crossover

…. The only thing besides Danganronpa that I care about is Kingdom Hearts ^^;;; He’d be Ventus in my crossover, rather than Sora!

OTP (or OT3+ etc…. just… favourite ship)

I like Nae///giri and Hin//aegi both!!! Nae///giri is something that develops rather well in DR1, and Hin///aegi is just such a warming and soft ship to me! Like, I just feel like they’d complement each other pretty well? They have a ton in common, and could teach each other different things.

Other ships?

Nae///zono! It’s a ship that I don’t talk a lot about, but I really liked his relationship with Maizono a lot. I truly miss her :( I really want to know what their relationship was like in the pre-DR1 year that they were in the same class together. 

BROTP

Pretty much all of the survivors of DR1, and Sayaka, and of course his sister! Also Hinata!!! I feel like they could really help each other!

NOTP

Well, I don’t really have one that really irks me, honestly? I’m not the most comfortable with Kom///aegi and Nae///gami all the time, though. Kom////aegi tends to be weirdly balanced, where Komaeda overpraises Naegi, but may till manipulate him and have some kind of power that way. It’s not my favorite interaction. As for Nae///gami, It’s also got that imbalance issue. In either case, if you portray it in a way that they are or become equals (without any messed up stuff happening mind you) then I’m really okay with them.

An assortment of headcanons!

Makoto does eventually find his parents, however even though they are physically unharmed, they are catatonic. They don’t respond to much of anything anymore, and it’s a mystery how they were able to live by the time Future Foundation got to them

Makoto holds grudges for very few people. They are not always bad people, but while outwardly he tries to be optimistic, inside, he’s wishing he was anywhere but near those people, or talking about those people.

Makoto and Sayaka, during their year in Hope’s Peak, grew very close, but never brought up dating each other. They were attracted to each other before they knew each other, and while they still are romantically attracted by the end of the year, it’s different, a little more sure, now that they do know each other. The apocalypse comes, and it never feels like a good time to brig it up anyways.

Makoto doesn’t realise he is the target of romantic attraction for quite a few people. Within the school year, he takes it as people just being naturally shy or standoffish. After the killing game, he assumes it is because of his supposed title of Ultimate Hope that he never actually called himself. (The exception to this is Kirigiri... he’s gotten to know her well enough to get that they like each other).

Hajime Hinata

What I like about them

Hinata was, and remains, DR’s best protagonist. He has development throughout DR, and I was really rooting with him slowly. He’s really funny in how blunt he is, and that sarcastic nature of his is great. But, probably most importantly to me, is that he is ever so relatable. He’s actually really sweet and caring, and he’s not one to resort to violence first. If there is something he thinks he can do for a friend, he’ll try to do it. And he’s imperfect.... He doesn’t have any talent whatsoever, he’s insecure about himself, he pushes people away and tries to run away and find easier solutions. Those are good things. It makes him feel more real.

What I dislike about them

Hinata’s a really good character... but well, the ending of DR2, I feel like he could have snapped out on his own. Nanami being there... I would like to believe that the one that was talking to him in that mindscape was not the real Nanami, not even really the AI Nanami. She’s a figment of his imagination that represents the gentle side of courage. Still, I wish that it wasn’t her exactly, or it was more clear that this was Hinata convincing himself that he doesn’t need to run away from hard choices.

I also gotta say that while I am entertained by post-canon Hinata’s potential... he lacks a lot of what I liked in Hinata in the first place. He’s now too perfect, even more so than Izuru who’s fault is the inability to empathize. I guess if he was shown to struggle at least a bit between feeling and not, not always being able to consciously use a talent, but in other situation it happens consciously, or really showing any kind of repercussion than being so clearly rewarded for having taken part in the Hope Cultivation Plan instead of chosing to be himself, I’d feel more satisfied. I also just am not a fan of how much they center Nanami in the end of DR3. At DR2′s ending, it was clearer to me that his decision was also for the sake of everyone else. Now that they are all awake, it’s almost like it’s all for her sake now. Like, how Mitarai should join them because it is what Nanami would have wanted... that’s just weird.

Favourite moment

I complained about Nanami’s part in the very end of SDR2, but honestly, besides her, I genuinely loved to see Hinata and his transformation! I don’t mean just in his “Awakened” form, but more like how broken he had been by the knowledge that he was the one who destroyed  himself, in just about the worst ways possible, and the consequences of which had driven the world mad and eventually came to destroy the lives of people he had been calling friends, and then how he’d come to accept that, yes, this was his responsibility, no one else’s, and he was going to live with it, move forward, and through as much sheer willpower as possible, survive as himself. Hinata’s truly grown a lot from how he had been in the beginning.

Least favourite moment

I’ve already discussed this kind of, but that confrontation with Mitarai at the end was so weak. What a let down it had been. Like, yeah, DR3 was a mess for a long while before, but you could at least somewhat enjoy it were it not for such a weak ending. Hinata saves the day by offering Mitarai to become a figitive alongside other people who have caused the end of the world, and then after saving the world from the lamest threat ever, he takes the blame for the event and lets Naegi be the hero he never was (in this situation at least... seriously SC, stop treating Naegi as the hero when you didn’t even let him do much in this part of the series)

A situation with this character that I want to see explored more

Oh, like I’ve said before, that struggle of acceptance of being Izuru kamukura at the same time as being Hinata! Like honestly, he shouldn’t be completely rewarded for choosing talent over everything else- that goes against what his story tells. If talent is not the most important thing about Hinata, then why is it the way he solves everything in the end, pretty much?

We also really needed some more background on Hinata: There are a lot of speculations that Hinata’s parents may be abusive or Neglectful for letting Hinata take a part in the HCP. Is that really how it had been? And how did he come across HPA? What was it like growing up talentless in a world that idolizes talent? Just some basic backstory of things that pushed him into the belief that Talent meant more than his own sense of Self.

And we get a hint of it, but what really happened while Hinata was in the HCP? Like, what was he doing for the months between Episode 3 and him going into the pod?

And on an aside, I want to know what he did to wake the others up? I am 99% certain that Komaeda’s case was completely unique... Komaeda always makes things harder, and AI Kamukura really had to dig deep and go to extremes to wake Komaeda up. I think that AI Kamukura would have had to do less drastic things to wake the others up. How did Hinata choose the design for AI Kamukura anyways? Was this something he worked together on with Alter Ego?

An interesting AU for this character

I suppose one AU I’m curious about is what would happen if he did not lose his memories and emotions in the HCP? Like, he’d find it hard to emote, but at the same time, he still felt empathy, if that makes sense? I wonder if Junko would still be able to use him, if e’d actually end up joining class 77, or whatever else could change.

A crossover

Kingdom Hearts Just kidding XD So actually, I read a fic that I really loved a lot, and it was a TWEWY crossover! Hinata took place of Neku, Komaeda took place of Joshua, Nanami took place of Shiki, and the Kuzuryuus took place of Beat and Rhyme. It was awesome!

OTP (or OT3+ etc…. just… favourite ship)

I’m a really die-hard Koma//Hina///Nami shipper! I mean, for me, it’s more like HinaKomaNami (so centered around Komaeda instead). I feel like I talk way too much about how great I think it is, though, lol. I’ll try to make this shorter? I feel like all of them can provide support to each other in different ways! I like the idea that they still have conflict among themselves, but work together to come to a certain point of understanding. I guess I’ve always liked poly ships more, though. I’m not completely sure why that is, lol.

Other ships?

Koma///Hina will always be my favorite Hinata ship. There is so much complexity to their relationship because of how they met, and because Hinata did like Komaeda, at the very least in a platonic manner. Hinata wanted to trust Komaeda as a friend. The relationship they had in the beginning made it that much harder for Hinata to accept the Komaeda post CH1′s trial... and I do believe that Komaeda’s FTEs could be taken as canon. They were written in such a way that they make sense to happen in canon. And people are always calling it abusive or unhealthy when honestly, it’s not. Komaeda had a reason to act as he did. Was it right? No, but the clues are there that he has difficulty understanding things the way other people do, and his traumatic experiences simply reinforced such thinking.

Hin////aegi and Hinat///sumi are tied for the second Hinata pairings I care a lot about. Hin////aegi, as I’ve said before, just makes me feel really warm inside... it’s a comfort ship. Hin////atsumi I really love a lot because of just how similar him and Natsumi are! Though Hinata keeps to himself much more than Natsumi and doesn’t try to publically antagonize people, Natsumi and him both sare that admiration for people with talent, and instead of accepting themselves as talentless, try their best to be more. They see the system they are in and accept it, but decide they wanted to be on the better side of it. inata in DR3 was only ever allowed to act like how he did in DR2 with Natsumi... he saw her as equal. All of the other students who had given up the desperation to be better, he really did picture them as not worth his time for not understanding how he felt. He was less upfront about it than Natsumi, who openly admits her disdain for those who blindly follow the rules of the Status Quo. Like, these two bring out the truth in each other... and I just simply loved their interactions in Episode 3. Really, it was because of Natsumi and her relationship with Hinata that DR3 had at least one enjoyable episode that I can call my favorite.

BROTP

Hinataxeveryone he knows, pretty much XD Hinata is just such a sweet and loving guy, and he gets along well with most people given time. I love his interactions with his classmates because he can at least be blunt about how weird they are while still entertaining what they do or say. To pick a few that I’d list high, him, Nanami, and Komaeda are still my favorite OT3. Nanami is like his quite cheerleader and Komaeda is the one who pushes him out of his comfort zone a lot. I also really loved his interactions with Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi- They make such a funny trio! All the survivors do, really (but Akane and Sonia don’t get to talk to him quite as much, I think?) Also, I obviously BrOTP him with Naegi and Natsumi! Above reasons for shipping them romantically apply to frienship as well. And for not-survivors, Ibuki and the Ultimate Imposter!!!

NOTP

I’ve sid it previously when talking about kamu///Koma, but I’m also not fond of Hina///Nami. At the very least, I can’t ship these two toggether without Komaeda. Nanami is his courage, but also just as much his escape. DR3 really proved that- she could tell him all about how useless talent really was, and he’d hold on to it and repeat after her simply wishing it was true, but in his mind, he still staunchly rejects what she says because everything else in the world is telling him otherwise. AI Nanami, meanwhile, is better, as in she at least has flaws, but they aren’t obvious to him. She’s pretty much always nice or teasing to him. And then, of course, the ending where she turns up again.... why was she allowed to be his escape? A healthy relationship does not mean constant positive reinforcement... it means actually listening to the problems. You can’t fix every problem by saying that it will get better.

Other ships: I’m not really fond of Hina///miki, but it’s not like I would shirk from it if I saw it. Mikan acts innocent and sweet, but she is willing to hurt  people to et them t stay with her, and willing to hurt herself for the attention. Hinata in her FTEs and island Mode kind of just... accepts it all. Teruteru and Hinata... no thanks, either. Teruteru literally drugs Hinata, even if it was maybe some kind of joke. He was kind of condescending as well in their interactions, so it was just not my cup of tea.

An assortment of headcanons!

Hinata has trouble sleeping sometimes because the memories he has as Izuru, and as the Hajime before the project, and as the Hajime Hinata during the simulation all feel as different as they do as himself. His memories often mix together into uncomfortable messes. He begins logging them to sort himself out sometimes.

Hinata actually does enjoy riding in boas: there are occasional patter changes that aren’t so easily calculated in his head, and especially so i he closes hi seyes. I f he is feeling particularly apathetic and bored, he’ll lock himself in his cabin and try to lose himself to it until he’s able to work with everyone again.

He doesn’t actually like taking lead of the class. He only takes over when needed to show face that he is the leader of Ultimate Despair, or in desperate situations. Otherwise, he tries to make things as equal as possible, splitting up the group in teams in charge of different things (like gathering info on other remnants that linger the world, coming up with confrontations plans, making technology to keep the group safe and capture assailants, finding a way to rehabilize, or in worse-case scenarios, put down remnants.

The change in eye color is not actually real. The red eyes of kamukura and the black hair are merely visuals to us, the player, that something about Hajime is different. Red eyes are a sign of power, black for despair, white for hope. That beautiful heterochromia he has in Hope Arc is more of a sign that he has accepted his past as Ultimate Despair, but holds himself with confidence and will make decisions based on what he, as Hajime Hinata, deems is right.