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Summary
William meets a interesting ballet dancer named Clara.
When he opens his eyes, the stage is empty and the room is filled with pointless chatter once more. The dancing gave way to only a temporary placation, as his usual feelings of emptiness and volatility returned.
It made him wish he’d always have a dancer around. Someone to distract him from the endless abyss of his thoughts.
Why don’t I? The words surface in his mind, materializing as an impulse he wants to act on.
William Afton, after all, is a man who has always reached for the impossible.
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Radagon searches for his own purpose, first in crime, then in figure skating, then in politics, then in jail; until he does it all over again. A spiral and a rebirth all at once.
Looking at Radagon is like looking into a fire from which there is no escape. All-consuming and warm, undeniable in its impact; its intensity.
His skin is the marble from which statues are sculpted from, something forged in fire, something golden-brown under the heat of the molten sun. Perhaps that is why he is an inferno of red hair, gifted with eyes of piercing gold paired with lips of rust.
(He is gold and fire incarnate. So he is rust and ashes incarnate.)
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Zoey is a famous popstar, Mira is a famous model. Seemingly made each other, they court each other for years—until they don't.
She took out her phone again, the action feeling like a relapse. She decides to check Zoey's profile one last time; only to see she updated her story. She clicks on it, only to see an anonymous question that read: 'What do you think about Mira Kang?', to which her eyes flew down to see what she replied with, the text reading: 'i dont, shes just a dumb, dolled up model.'
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Inspired by a tweet (@mirasgirlfriend) where Rumi and Mira go to a meet and greet.
A meet and greet. They've done this countless times, Rumi and Mira. It's simple.
Rumi was prepared. She made her glossy violet strands into her iconic long braid, did her make-up, dusted her face with blush and framed her eyes with eyeliner; dressed herself in the yellow jacket and white crop-top she always wore. Mira was less so. She did her make-up as well, though in comparison her cheeks were over-powdered and her eyeliner was messy. She quickly draped herself in a black branded shirt, a silver belt with chains and fishnets she last wore three years ago.
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Rumi feels unloved despite all the support she's given, and as she drifts away from Zoey and Rumi, a certain demon seems to appear at just the perfect time. Too perfect, in fact.
Jinu had planned it, in a way; he wanted his band to outshine HUNTR/X, and having Rumi as his girlfriend to the public was an easy ticket. Rumi was aware, the way he wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her closer in front of their fans was no coincidence; yet, he was the only person who made her feel like life could have some kind of joy beyond surviving, meaning beyond suffering. Was she naive for wanting that? Possibly, but that didn't stop her regardless, even knowing it was wrong.