genuinely horrified that people are sending you so much hate over minecraft roleplay. i'm so sorry!! to balance it out with something more positive: would you fancy sharing any of your thoughts about owain & kitty's dynamic?
It’s alright, I used to be in the dsmp fandom so I’ve been called way worse over minecraft roleplay. On the bright side, I’ve gotten asks about all three of my favorite (non-angst) Owain dynamics specifically because of that harassment so it’s definitely a win for me
I like Kitty and Owain’s dynamic as both platonic and queer-platonic. I think they love each other, or at least are developing love for each other by the end of the series, but I don’t think they have any romantic feelings for each other. I’m not 100% about my headcanon for Kitty, but I headcanon Owain as aroace, specifically quoiromantic, apothiromantic (for himself, not in general,) and apothisexual (this is in general.) In my opinion, I don’t think Owain would ever be in or want to be in romantic relationship. Them being partners in non-traditional ways is very important to me though. They teach each other, they love each other, and they’re going to be with each for life.
One of my headcanons—maybe my favorite headcanon I have for them—is that Kitty was the first person Owain let touch him without the armor. It wouldn’t be anything much at first, just hand holding or squeezing his shoulder. But eventually that evolves into Kitty constantly touching him and while Owain expects himself to hate it, he doesn’t. He ends up craving any sort of touch Kitty wants to give him. He hasn’t been touched for like a decade for goodness sakes, he’s going to be touched starved. Owain doesn’t tell anyone how much he wants to and enjoys being hugged or patted or whatever, but Kitty slowly picks up on it. They get him to admit it after years of everyone being apprehensive to touch him and she ends up petting his hair with his head in her lap for hours afterwards.
I have many more thoughts about them, but those two things were the main ones that came to mind
Reasons why Maple Taffy's & Schneeball's dynamic/ relationship is extremely well-written.
Maple Taffy Cookie and Schneeball Cookie are both higher-ups at the Relic Management Division, the manager and ace manager of the division respectively.
At first they might seem completely different, but they're actually more like 2 sides of the same coin. The Relic Management Division focuses around 2 things—the preservation of relics and studying relics.
Maple Taffy focuses on preservation. He cleans, collects, stores and displays relics. To the point he'll even ask his co-workers to make him specialised displays.(Like how he asked Croissant to build him a specialised display for his dragon egg fossils, as they all need specific conditions to be preserved correctly.)
Schneeball is oriented more towards the study of relics. To the point of completely breaking them apart to uncover as much as possible. She prides herself most in her research.
Both of them have the same burning passion for relics as the other. They just go about their love for relics differently. But these differences makes them the perfect duo for the division they work in!
They make jokes at the other's expense straight to their face all the time. But they never seem to mind, usually they just return the banter. Neither of them do this with Marble Bread, Dark Fondue or anyone else. They only do this with eachother and it's always towards one another, never behind the other's back.
They're also shown to genuinely care for one another. In one scene Schneeball asks Maple Taffy if he's finished writing the report he had to. She realises she didn't and states she knew he didn't, which is why she came to check. Showing she knows he's a huge procrastinator.(Which, real bro, can't blame him.) She then comes to help him write the report, and then submitting it just before the deadline. Schneeball states how she bets the Director is going to love it. Maple Taffy, who knows Timekeeper, unlike Schneeball, knows dang well Timekeeper doesn't even peep at the reports. But he doesn't tell Schneeball anything, and just let's her have her moment of joy.
In Relic Management Chaos! after Maple Taffy ends up in a relic, Dark Fondue tells Schneeball that if she saves him that would prove she's competent enough to become the manager of the division. Schneeball reluctantly says she will get him for her, but clearly not for the promotion, as she would've been much more excited then. She even ends up calling Maple Taffy multiple times after they realise they can call one another.
Other characters are never alarmed when they argue. Baguette (who can read people really well) even states they seem to be having fun whenever they quabble. Maple Taffy also makes sure to call over Schneeball whenever they get new relics so they go over them together.
(Or none of this was intended by the writers and I'm just going insane due to the lack of TBD updates.)
ramble about your favorite character in twst, or dynamic between characters
Pretty please
hii anon!! i fear this was a tough question for me because if you know me or have lurked around the channel anyw... i tend to just have multitudes in terms "liking" something, so specific favoritism existing in this house?? NAHH, i love variety
*..so decided to just spin a wheel to see who i'll ramble about lmaoo
Wheel winner: Riddle and Trey
First off, I'd like to say that I have crashed out over these two MULTIPLE TIMES because it turned out in Book 7 that their somewhat toxic dynamic had more layers to it then just the "two childhood friends reunited duo"
For context, in Book 7, their pre canon dynamic was revealed through the lens of Leona, Idia, and Cater; mostly Cater's perspective though since he was a first hand witness to how the two interacted, and met each other again in NRC, and let me tell you, it is so, oh so fascinating to realize how toxic these two were.
Contrary to initial expectations from myself, and maybe a decent majority of the fandom thought, Riddle DID NOT accept Trey back into his life with warmth or with the childhood reunion tone that most people imagined.
He ignored Trey's warm welcome to the dorm despite the fact that Trey was a senior, cold shouldered him even through simple interactions and kept to himself away from Heartslabyul dorm members, and especially Trey.
On the other hand, Trey was so ecstatic to see Riddle again to the point that he was yapping and talking to his Heartslabyul dorm members about how good of a person Riddle is during the 2nd years ceremony
> also note, Riddle fully crashed out during their ceremony because Floyd GRABBED Riddle's hair and obviously that's rude but Riddle had to be physically restrained by Vargas too; might've been not a good first impression to the other Heartslabyul who didn't believe Trey's gassing up of Riddle.
Eventually driven by self motivation, Riddle takes the crown of Heartslabyul 2 weeks in the school year, and the vice dorm leader is removed as well which prompts Riddle call in an election of the dorm to choose their next vice. Yes. He didn't choose Trey as his vice, he didn't even ask or anything, Riddle just acted alone.
The rest of the dorm, probably scared shitless, votes the one person that could "handle" Riddle (and also technically the one that kept hyping up Riddle anyway) which was Trey.
To be honest, I don't recall any other canon info about what happened during the first year of Riddle's rule (there's probably more hidden in voice lines or vignettes that I just don't know..) so let's move on!
Cut to Prologue and Book 1, Trey and Riddle have clearly settled into their duo position more comfortably than ever. Riddle acknowledges Trey, and the dorm is stable now (I had another analysis of how good Riddle administered/changed Heartslabyul if ever)
A lot of things happened which I'm not gonna narrate again because suddenly my brain ran out of fuel actually...
And then the overblotting happens, and finally it forces to Trey to act because it's not a moment where Riddle just got mad at a student and Trey can just ease both people involved later - it's one where it's a literal "fight or die" scenario.
A metaphysical moment that I think really altered my brain on Trey and Riddle was when Riddle shoots to harm people and then Trey raises his pen and vanishes the lethal spell within seconds, and Riddle has a meltdown.
This could go in two route: for a pragmatic argument to this, I theorize that maybe he viewed Trey as inferior to him and so when Trey "wrote" over his magic that was supposed to be stronger, he got upset at the realization that Trey is possibly more powerful than him
OR, if we wanna go down the more emotional route: Maybe it was more like Riddle was devastated. Ever since he's been in NRC, after meeting Trey again, fulfilling the duties of being a dorm leader, and supervising a chaotic dorm, Trey has been with him for more than a year.
Most likely, he's probably comforted Riddle through a lot of vulnerable moments too and not just through moments where he gets angry.
It's the devastation that someone who you trusted, who helped you in your vulnerable times, someone who's been the shield to your sword, your aid, turned his back against you in your most vulnerable moment possibly.
He's supposed to know Riddle's mother is right, doesn't he? He's seen it himself when they were kids. So, why did he go against him, against her? And why can he do it, when Riddle can't? How can he step away, when Riddle has been bound his entire life? Why can he overwrite his magic so easily, when Riddle spent his entire childhood perfecting it? What did he have, that Riddle doesn't?
Maybe Trey eventually became his shield whether Riddle realized it or not at some point or subconsciously. In a dorm where people slowly but surely started to antagonise Riddle; Trey was technically one of the true ones that was locked in to whatever insanity Riddle had.
But, even a shield can't be your true shield if they technically "lie" to you because they want to "protect" you, because is it really protecting if you won't help the sword sharpen itself for future battles?
Even from the very beginning of their NRC arc, Trey has only looked at Riddle with his past version etched into mind; the one who smiled more, the one who beamed when he won a little harder at croquet and the version that Trey gave a strawberry tart to.
This aspect was actually made so obvious in the manga when Riddle overblots and there's blot tears running down his face, and right next to that panel of Overblot Riddle is child Riddle crying.
In the events of Book 2, I find Riddle immediately jumping to action after Trey was hurt so deeply healing because he wants to protect Trey for once; to show him that he does care and he's trying to change, even if it's slow.
Extra Trey and Riddle moments thoughts:
There's a scene in the TWST Anthology where Ace catches up with Riddle who's worrying about keeping up to standard and Ace tells him something along the lines of "Trey advised you to stop doing that, because what matters is that you try anyway."
Book 7 scene where Trey headpats Riddle, and Riddle is genuinely caught off guard by the casual sign of affection - I also see this as Trey finally feeling comfortable around Riddle as well outside of trying to be formal (tbf it was also Malleus disaster confrontation time lol)
Anyway, thanks so much for the ask btw anon!! They have a certain tragedy to them that can't be easily replicated, and adding Chenya to the mix is another thing too (maybe I'll make a Chenya dynamic analysis if someone asks lmaoskdj)
AND I ended up rambling so much oh my god, beware i hate these two from the very molecules of my dissolved tears (个_个)
Pushing my Jiang Cheng Knows agenda, with some sangcheng cause I love them :)
For some reason I think this suits their characters well. Nie Huaisang knows he isn’t a good person. He planned for people to die, both good and bad people. He knows his hands aren’t clean and that some sins he will never be forgiven for, but he did it all for the sake of the people he loves so he cannot find it in himself to regret any of it. Jiang Cheng knows this too. He knows Nie Huaisang has caused, if not done, terrible things. But he has spent so much of his life in the shadows of others, seeking love and affection from people who could only ever give him pieces because they loved someone else more. So when he finally has someone who loves him whole, someone who would do such terrible things for him, he can’t bring himself to turn away from it.
They do not love each other in spite of what they’ve done. They just love each other.
Hamel and Phantom Hamel are ultimately 2 sides of the same coin. Yes, even if Phantom Hamel morphed into "Hamel" for the sake of morphing into... well, Hamel.
An obvious characteristic between the two of them is that they are mentally broken. But, how they show it is very different.
[Note: for pronouns, i'll use they/it, however more of the pronoun "they".]
For Phantom Hamel, as a more stronger corruptor who controls the Carnival's Black Ring aspects, they are someone who will be indifferent to anything and everything to achieve what they desire. Examples of this are how the corruptor's were influenced under their spell, deluding them even further to thinking that they are the actual "Hamel", as well as feeding off the corruptor's love for Hamel with her sweet yet meaningless words to transform into eventually something larger with the intent of destruction.
The white lies and persuasion that seems to have a magnetic pull, given constantly with a facade expressing kindness to the corruptor's of the Carnival who have suffered beyond repair make them easily vulnearble. This information aligns with Phantom Hamel's goals, with the thought of that when done, it will receive contentment and company in return.
Though, this is not the case at all, which crashes into them like a truck.
Despite everything they has done, even after Hamel disappeared, and making the corruptor's fall under its hypnotic trance once more when all of their minds were set in chaos—it still isn't enough.
"What were they doing wrong?" Let us look at her actions. Through numerous times, we see her constantly praising to the corruptor's in the Carnival, telling constantly this specific statement, no matter how different the wording is: "If you follow me—if you love me, I will give you the love and joy you have been soughting out for throughout your miserable lives. I will free you from the endless ticking torment that has haunted you long before you have came here. I will give the mercy that all of you had tried so desperately to receive and hold onto your bare, wallowing hands." (My interpretation). Note this as it ties into the Carnival narrative and its themes. Obvious i know.
Love, joy, freedom from the concept of physical/mental pain; these hold high regard and importance. To the corruptors, those act almost like salvation itself; the gateway to a freeing hevean, able to grant them mercy and clean off their tainted body and burdening guilty, starting anew.
The feeling of insufficiency growing within itself during that painful realisation lies in two specific things: how they executed the actions they has given to the corruptors, and the nature of its mental structure as a corruptor. It wanted to embody what made Hamel—Hamel. The lovable, selfless, kind parts of hers. However, as Hamel and Phantom Hamel are ultimately different, their mental cognitive structure do not align well at all.
Phantom Hamel's intentions were also taken from Hamel. We'd describe as "morally good" on paper, but it was done that included many layers of immorality and havoc added to the result.
From taking her physical form, to taping Hamel's identity to itself, to intentions, just so it could feel what love is; they have failed to do. Why? Because they never took into account the one idea that is the very core of humanity: imperfection.
See, Hamel is imperfect. Before even getting herself involved in The Carnival, she was exploited and abused for her parent's own satisfaction and benefit. She was coerced and alienated. No care came from the voices of the rich. Her mental health had always took a toll.
She went into the Carnival not only for the sake of her brother, Norman, but for others too. She took the burden so that no one will get hurt and get involved in the Black Ring.
She came for the corruptors, during when what only can be seen was immense torture and unforgiving pain. She danced for the corruptors with indifferent kindness, as though they were people too, so their suffering would halt and be forgotten by them, basking in what should be false happiness, even just for a second.
She showed love to the corruptors who have tasted the relentless despair of the world since then and never knew what it means to feel love in the first place. Technically, Hamel and the corruptors are almost the same. In an artistic viewpoint, they share a symbiote + parisitic form of relationship (an analysis for another time.)
All of these that she had done, she never bothered with her own well-being first. She put the corruptors and those living in the bitter reality she once had to endure over herself. She done those impressive feats of human kindness as someone who is not free from flaw and sin.
And the corruptors in The Carnival? They gave back in return. Praise, love, appreciation—treating Hamel like a goddess, with utmost respect. Her flaws never mattered, how unstable she was; she showed kindness and granted something so salvation-like to them when no one would, and encapsulated them in an illusory space using her power so that they'd have a safe space—a refuge to take into anytime their problems collide onto them the heaviest, to just let those dissolve into ethreal mist.
Simply put, she understood how it felt to be so broken. So broken to never receive a kind experience. And so, she gave the corruptors exactly that, just because—at least they will receive a time where the concept of suffering felt so... Out of reach. So foreign, so surreal. Because they barely/no longer experienced "pain".
Phantom Hamel though had believed that she was someone who was "always perfect". She was someone who effortlessly received love just because she did. She was someone who was constantly never alone just because she wasn't. Beyond that, they never considered Hamel's imperfections, because not only did she always looked so flawless to them, but also because they hate the idea of "being flawed".
Both are flawed and mentally broken. They were never perfect from the start. The thing is, one has come to terms with it. The other decided to evade from it, never acknowledging that part of theirs, wanting to be seen as someone perfect enough to spread and give love.
And now we reach the showing part. Of course, Hamel heals, lets their worries and thoughts dissolve away so they feel at peace. These are shown with kindness, never with the regard on what or who they are. Phantom Hamel, on the other hand, shows indifference... To everything.
They just want love and love only. To feel pleasure. To feel good. To not feel lonely. When it comes to the task of giving love just like Hamel (as its identity is copied to her) they just go... Apathetic.
There is a part in cutscene 8-7 "Ferris Wheel" where they are fufilling the corruptor's desires. They listened to them. Though, no matter how much of a considerate face it tried to put on, the truth is that they do not really care. At all. They just want to immediately receive that company, love, and joy it has been wanting for the entirety it has been awakened in The Carnival. Like a rich kid who has their eyes set on a toy they had once saw through a shopping window, doing any means to getting said toy.
To conclude, their dynamic is something like this: 2 sides of the same coin, however a side more selfless and considerate, and a side which is more selfish and indifferent to everything around them.
mystery inc. but it’s morally grey, emotionally repressed, and a little bit unhinged
okay so i fell down a rabbit hole and now i’m mapping regulus and his lot onto the scooby doo universe and unfortunately it makes too much sense.
like this started as a joke — “haha evan is fred” — and then it spiralled into full character analysis, relationship dynamics, and me realising this group functions exactly like mystery inc. if you took away the bright colours and replaced them with tension, bad coping mechanisms, and the occasional questionable decision.
so here’s the breakdown — who’s who, why it works, and how the dynamics somehow got worse.
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evan rosier as fred jones is the kind of casting choice that makes everything else immediately fall into place.
because on the surface, fred is the “leader.” he’s the one with the plans, the structure, the “gang, split up and look for clues” energy. and evan fits that in the most deceptive way possible — not because he’s the most stable, but because he’s the one most willing to take control of chaos and shape it into something that looks like order.
evan isn’t leading because he’s sensible. he’s leading because he’s fearless in a way that borders on reckless.
fred builds traps. evan would build traps that are slightly too elaborate, slightly too dangerous, and definitely more personal than they need to be. like fred sets up a net and a pulley system; evan rigs something that requires precision timing, a bit of luck, and the implicit understanding that if it goes wrong, oh well.
and the thing is — it usually doesn’t go wrong. which only makes him worse.
he’s got that same hyper-focus too. when fred locks onto a plan, nothing distracts him. when evan locks onto something, it’s game over. he’s not letting it go. he’s not letting you go. he’ll grin through it, joke through it, but there’s something sharp underneath — something that says this was never a game for him in the first place.
also: the aesthetic. fred is clean-cut, all-american golden boy. evan is that same silhouette dragged through something darker — still striking, still magnetic, but with an edge that makes people hesitate for half a second too long. he looks like he knows exactly how things are going to end and is enjoying the process anyway.
and the most important part — the dynamic.
fred is the one who keeps the group moving forward. not because he understands everyone the best, but because he refuses to let them fall apart.
evan does the same thing, just… meaner about it.
he’ll tease, provoke, push — but it’s all in service of keeping everyone engaged, keeping them sharp, keeping them from drifting. he doesn’t do soft encouragement. he does tension. he does challenge. he does that thing where you want to prove him wrong just to shut him up — and somehow, that keeps you going.
he’s the centre of motion, not because he’s safe, but because he’s impossible to ignore.
fred jones, if fred jones had teeth.
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regulus black as daphne blake is the kind of casting that starts as a joke and ends up being painfully accurate.
because everyone thinks they understand daphne.
she’s the pretty one. the composed one. the one who looks like she belongs somewhere softer, safer, more put-together than the chaos she’s constantly standing in.
and that’s exactly what people do with regulus.
they see the poise. the control. the way he holds himself like something carved and careful and intentional. they see the beauty of it — the symmetry, the stillness — and assume that’s all there is.
but daphne isn’t just “the pretty one.”
she’s the one who keeps ending up in the centre of things.
kidnapped, targeted, singled out — not because she’s weak, but because she’s visible. because she draws attention. because she looks like the easiest point of fracture in the group.
and regulus exists like that too.
he’s the one people choose. the one people reach for, test, push, try to break open. not because he’s fragile, but because there’s something about him that feels like if you could just get past the surface, you’d find something important.
and they’re not wrong.
what people forget about daphne — what they always forget — is that she survives everything.
she gets out. she fights back. she adapts.
and sometimes she does it quietly.
sometimes she does it by playing the part they expect long enough to turn it on its head.
that’s regulus.
he understands the role he’s been placed in. he understands exactly how he’s being perceived — delicate, ornamental, controlled — and he uses that. he lets people underestimate him just enough to get close, just enough to miscalculate.
and then he changes the outcome.
also — and this matters — daphne is the emotional hinge of the group in a way people don’t talk about enough.
she notices things. she feels shifts. she picks up on tension before it breaks.
regulus does that too, but where daphne smooths things over, regulus holds it. carries it. lets it sit in his chest until it turns into something heavier, sharper, more decisive.
he’s not the heart in the soft way.
he’s the heart in the way that hurts.
and visually? yeah. obviously.
put him in daphne’s silhouette — the clean lines, the deliberate presentation, the almost too-perfect exterior — and it works immediately.
but it’s the subversion that makes it stick.
because underneath all of that, both of them are far more capable, far more dangerous, and far more aware than anyone ever gives them credit for.
daphne blake, if you stopped mistaking softness for weakness.
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dorcas meadowes as velma dinkley is the kind of casting that feels obvious until you actually look at it properly — and then it becomes perfect.
because velma isn’t just “the smart one.”
she’s the one who sees everything.
patterns, inconsistencies, the tiny details everyone else misses because they’re too busy running, arguing, or pretending they’re not scared. velma is always a step ahead — not louder about it, not showy — just right.
and dorcas has that exact energy.
she’s observant in a way that borders on surgical. she doesn’t just look at a situation, she dissects it. pulls it apart, lays it out, understands how it works and where it’s going to break.
and the thing about velma — the thing people forget — is that she’s not passive intelligence.
she’s sharp. she’s blunt. she will absolutely tell you when you’re being stupid, and she won’t soften it to make you feel better.
that’s dorcas all over.
she’s the one calling things out. the one grounding the group when they start spiralling off into nonsense, dragging them back to what actually matters. not gently — never gently — but effectively.
and she’s always doing more than she lets on.
velma is constantly carrying the investigation. connecting threads, building the bigger picture, holding all the information in her head so the rest of them can keep moving.
dorcas does the same thing, just quieter about it.
she’ll let people think they’ve come to conclusions themselves. she’ll let evan take the lead, let regulus sit in the centre of it, let everything unfold — but behind the scenes, she’s already mapped it out. she already knows where this is going.
she just doesn’t need the credit.
also — the dynamic.
velma and daphne are a pair. not in a loud, obvious way, but in that constant, underlying alignment. they understand each other without needing to explain. velma notices when daphne’s off; daphne trusts velma’s judgment without question.
dorcas and regulus fit into that perfectly.
she’s one of the few people who actually reads him correctly. not the version he presents, not the version everyone else reacts to — him. she sees the strain, the calculation, the way he holds everything in too tightly.
and she adjusts around it.
not to fix him. just… to account for it.
and aesthetically? velma’s whole thing — practical, grounded, slightly understated but unmistakably intentional — translates so well to dorcas. there’s nothing accidental about how she exists in a space. everything is chosen, everything has purpose.
no wasted movement. no wasted thought.
velma dinkley, if you sharpened her edges and let her keep them.
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barty crouch jr as shaggy rogers is the kind of casting that looks like a joke until you realise it’s actually the most unhinged, accurate thing in the entire lineup.
because shaggy isn’t just comic relief.
he’s avoidance.
he’s nerves and deflection and running — not because he’s incapable, but because he feels everything too loudly and too fast and doesn’t have any interest in standing still long enough for it to catch him.
and barty?
barty lives there.
he’s jittery in a different way — not soft anxiety, but something sharper, more volatile. his energy spikes instead of dips. where shaggy goes “nope” and bolts, barty goes “this is a terrible idea” and then does it anyway, laughing like it’s funny when it’s really just too much.
but the core is the same:
he doesn’t sit still with things.
he fills the space. talks, jokes, provokes, does something — anything — to keep from being alone with his own head.
and just like shaggy, people underestimate him because of it.
they see the chaos, the mess, the erratic energy and think that’s all he is. comic relief. background noise. the one who panics.
but shaggy survives everything.
he gets dragged into every nightmare scenario and still makes it out the other side. he adapts. he improvises. he thinks on his feet in a way that looks accidental but isn’t.
barty does that too — just meaner, faster, and with way less concern for whether it’s a good idea.
also, the loyalty.
this is the part that actually hurts.
shaggy is ride-or-die. not in a loud, noble way — in a messy, terrified, i’m still here anyway kind of way. he’ll complain, he’ll panic, he’ll say this is the worst idea ever, and then he’ll follow you into it regardless.
barty’s the same.
he’ll mock you while doing it. he’ll make it sound like a joke. but he doesn’t leave.
and then there’s the dynamic with fred.
shaggy and fred don’t make sense on paper — one’s chaos, one’s structure — but they work because fred keeps things moving and shaggy keeps things from becoming too rigid.
evan and barty slot into that perfectly.
evan builds the plan. barty pokes holes in it, laughs at it, stress-tests it just by existing. and somehow, between them, it becomes something that actually functions.
also — let’s be real — shaggy has that slightly dishevelled, offbeat, “is he okay?” energy that barty wears like a second skin. there’s always something a little off, a little too much, and you can’t quite tell if it’s intentional.
it usually is.
shaggy rogers, if the nervous energy bit back.
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pandora rosier as scooby doo — but specifically if scooby were human — is the kind of casting choice that makes the entire group suddenly make sense.
because scooby isn’t just “the dog.”
he’s the emotional gravity of the group.
he’s instinct, chaos, loyalty, and that weird, almost supernatural intuition that always ends up being right, even when it makes no sense at the time.
and pandora fits that in the most unnerving way.
she doesn’t think like the others.
where dorcas analyses and evan plans and regulus calculates, pandora just… knows. she’ll say something completely offhand, something that sounds like nonsense or a joke or a tangent, and then three scenes later it’s the key to everything.
not because she worked it out step by step.
but because her brain moves sideways instead of forward.
and scooby does that too.
he stumbles into clues. he reacts to things no one else notices. he’s driven by instinct — food, fear, affection — but underneath that is this constant, quiet awareness of what’s wrong in a situation.
pandora has that same awareness, just dressed up in curiosity and chaos instead of nerves.
also — the loyalty.
scooby stays.
even when he’s scared, even when he doesn’t understand what’s happening, even when everything in him is saying run — he stays because his people are there.
pandora’s like that, but softer about it. less obvious. she doesn’t cling, doesn’t make a show of it — she just… is there. always somewhere nearby, always orbiting, always returning.
and if something threatens the group?
that’s when it gets interesting.
because scooby can be brave when it counts.
pandora can be dangerous when it counts.
and then there’s the dynamic with shaggy.
scooby and shaggy are inseparable. they feed off each other — fear, humour, comfort, chaos — constantly in sync, constantly pulling each other along.
pandora and barty slot into that perfectly.
they’re on the same wavelength in a way that makes everyone else a little uneasy. the jokes that go too far, the ideas that spiral, the shared look before they do something that’s either going to be brilliant or a complete disaster.
probably both.
and aesthetically? making scooby human doesn’t take away the essence — it just translates it.
the big, expressive reactions. the physicality. the way emotion moves through them so visibly, so immediately. pandora has that same openness, that same lack of restraint in how she exists.
nothing is half-felt. nothing is muted.
everything is alive.
scooby doo, if you gave the instinct a human mind and let it wander wherever it wanted.
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mystery inc. (but it’s them) — dynamic breakdown
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shaggy & daphne (barty & regulus)
this is teeth and tension and something unsaid sitting between them at all times.
because barty pokes. constantly. he circles regulus like he’s trying to get a reaction out of something carved from marble. jokes that go a little too far, comments that land a little too sharp — always testing, always prodding.
and regulus?
regulus doesn’t rise to it.
which only makes barty worse.
there’s something about the way regulus refuses to give him what he wants that hooks him in deeper. like he’s trying to crack something open just to prove he can.
but here’s the thing — regulus sees him.
not the noise, not the performance — him.
and sometimes, very rarely, he’ll respond. dry, cutting, precise enough to stop barty mid-sentence.
and those are the moments barty lives for.
because underneath all of it, there’s a weird, fragile understanding there. not soft, never soft — but real.
—
fred & daphne (evan & regulus)
this is control meeting control and pretending it’s not a power struggle.
evan moves the group forward. regulus decides whether that movement holds.
they don’t clash loudly — they align, and that’s worse.
because when they agree, everything snaps into place. plans sharpen, decisions stick, the whole group falls into orbit around them without even realising it.
but when they don’t?
it’s quiet. tense. deliberate.
a look across the room. a pause before action. the smallest shift in tone that tells everyone something is off.
evan builds the plan.
regulus decides if it’s worth following.
and evan cares about that judgment more than he’ll ever admit.
—
velma & daphne (dorcas & regulus)
this is the most stable relationship in the entire group and somehow also the most dangerous.
because dorcas understands regulus completely.
no guesswork. no misreads. she sees the strain, the calculation, the way he holds everything too tightly — and she adjusts without making a thing of it.
she doesn’t push him.
she doesn’t try to fix him.
she just… accounts for him.
and regulus trusts her in a way he doesn’t trust anyone else.
not loudly. not openly. but it’s there — in the way he listens when she speaks, in the way he doesn’t argue certain points, in the way he lets her stand just slightly closer than anyone else.
they don’t need to say it.
that’s what makes it unshakeable.
—
scooby & daphne (pandora & regulus)
this is instinct meeting restraint.
pandora drifts — curious, chaotic, following whatever thread catches her attention — and somehow she always ends up back at regulus.
like orbit. like gravity.
and regulus lets her.
which is saying something.
he doesn’t try to contain her, doesn’t try to direct her — he just watches, adjusts, allows. because he knows she sees things the rest of them don’t.
and pandora, in turn, treats him like something precious.
not fragile — never that — but important.
she’ll say strange, sideways things that land a little too close to the truth, and regulus will go still for half a second before moving on like it didn’t hit.
they understand each other in a way that doesn’t translate to anyone else.
—
fred & velma (evan & dorcas)
this is structure and precision.
evan drives. dorcas refines.
he throws out ideas, plans, directions — and she cuts them down to what actually works. removes the excess, sharpens the edges, makes it real.
they don’t argue much.
not because they always agree, but because they don’t need to.
dorcas will let him run with something if it’s functional. evan will adjust the second she points out a flaw.
it’s efficient. almost seamless.
and slightly terrifying because of it.
—
fred & shaggy (evan & barty)
this is chaos being weaponised.
evan builds the plan.
barty stress-tests it just by existing.
he’ll poke holes, derail things, laugh at the structure of it — but in doing that, he forces evan to make it better.
stronger. tighter. harder to break.
and evan lets him.
complains about it, sure. snaps back, pushes, matches the energy — but he never shuts it down completely.
because he knows barty’s chaos is useful.
and barty knows exactly how far he can push before it stops being a game.
—
fred & scooby (evan & pandora)
this is control meeting unpredictability and deciding to trust it anyway.
pandora doesn’t follow plans.
she follows threads.
things that feel right, look interesting, call to her — and half the time, it leads somewhere evan didn’t account for.
and instead of shutting it down?
he adapts.
he watches where she goes and builds around it, folding her instincts into the structure of the plan like it was always meant to be there.
it shouldn’t work.
it does.
—
shaggy & velma (barty & dorcas)
this is irritation layered over something that looks a lot like care.
dorcas finds barty exhausting.
barty finds that hilarious.
he’ll talk just to fill the silence she prefers. she’ll cut him off the second he crosses into nonsense. it’s a constant back-and-forth of push and shut-down, noise and precision.
but.
she pays attention to him.
not indulgently, not gently — but she notices when something’s off, when the chaos tips into something less controlled.
and he notices that she notices.
neither of them says anything about it.
—
shaggy & scooby (barty & pandora)
this is synced chaos.
shared looks. half-finished thoughts. ideas that spiral into something unhinged and somehow work.
they feed off each other — energy, humour, curiosity — constantly pulling each other further than either of them would go alone.
it’s unpredictable. volatile. occasionally a complete disaster.
and absolutely essential to the group.
—
velma & scooby (dorcas & pandora)
this is logic trying to map instinct.
dorcas doesn’t always understand how pandora gets to her conclusions.
pandora doesn’t always understand how to explain them.
but they meet in the middle.
dorcas translates the instinct into something usable. pandora pulls dorcas out of rigid thinking just enough to see other possibilities.
it’s not neat.
it’s not clean.
but it works in a way nothing else does.
—
and that’s the thing about this version of mystery inc.:
they don’t balance each other by being opposites.
they balance each other by sharpening each other.
every edge is made sharper by the person standing next to it.
-
oh this? this is where it gets mean. because the canon scooby dynamics are already messy, and now you’ve mapped them onto people who are worse about it.
i’m gonna keep it tight to those canon vibes — especially mystery incorporated (because that’s where everything is most dysfunctional) and the films where the relationships actually get explored — and then translate it cleanly onto them.
romance in mystery inc. (but it’s them, and it’s worse)
—
fred & daphne (evan & regulus)
this is obsession disguised as structure colliding with devotion disguised as distance.
because in canon?
fred and daphne are terrible at being in a relationship.
fred is so locked into his thing — traps, plans, the mission — that he doesn’t know how to prioritise daphne in a way that actually feels like love. and daphne, who feels everything loudly and fully, keeps trying to pull more out of him than he knows how to give.
it’s misalignment.
it’s wanting in different languages.
and that maps onto evan and regulus perfectly, just sharpened.
evan doesn’t neglect regulus.
he just… focuses elsewhere.
on the plan, the movement, the next step — always forward, always building something. and he assumes regulus will follow, will understand, will be there without needing to be asked.
and regulus?
regulus does follow.
but not blindly.
he watches. measures. waits.
because he needs something evan doesn’t naturally give — acknowledgment, attention that isn’t incidental, something that says you matter outside of the function you serve.
and evan thinks he’s already showing that.
that’s the problem.
so you get that same push-pull as canon — daphne wanting to be chosen, fred not realising he’s failing to choose her properly — except here it’s quieter, more controlled, more dangerous.
regulus won’t beg for it.
he’ll just… withdraw.
slightly. subtly. enough that evan feels it without being able to name it.
and that’s when it flips.
because once evan notices, it becomes a fixation.
suddenly the attention is there — sharp, intense, almost overwhelming — like he’s correcting an error in real time.
like he’s making up for something he didn’t realise he’d done wrong.
and regulus?
regulus lets him.
but he never forgets that it had to be noticed first.
it’s not soft.
it’s not easy.
it’s that same canon dynamic — just stripped of its innocence and left with all the edges exposed.
—
velma & shaggy (dorcas & barty)
and this is where you take canon and let it break.
because velma and shaggy in mystery incorporated?
they don’t work.
not because they don’t care about each other — but because they want different things from the relationship.
he deflects, jokes, prioritises comfort (and scooby) over confrontation, and ends up hurting her by never fully choosing the relationship in the way she needs.
it’s miscommunication. it’s incompatibility.
and dorcas and barty would be that dynamic turned up to eleven.
because dorcas doesn’t do ambiguity.
she wants things to make sense. to be named. to be understood.
and barty?
barty lives in refusal.
refusal to sit still, to define things, to let anything pin him down long enough to be examined.
so if they ever tried?
it would go exactly like canon — just faster, sharper, and with less room for pretending it might work.
dorcas would push for clarity.
barty would dodge, joke, twist it into something unserious.
she’d get frustrated — not loudly, but coldly, precisely — because to her, this is a problem to solve, and he’s refusing to engage with it properly.
and he’d feel that shift.
and instead of meeting her there?
he’d push back harder.
make it more chaotic, more unserious, more impossible to pin down.
until eventually, it snaps.
not dramatically.
just… cleanly.
because dorcas knows when something isn’t functional.
and barty was never going to let it be.
so they don’t date.
not really.
they orbit. they clash. they almost.
and that’s worse.
—
and the thing about both of these relationships?
is that they fail or falter for the same core reason:
misalignment in how they give and receive attention.
fred/evan loves through action, through movement, through building something around the person.
daphne/regulus loves through awareness, through being seen, through deliberate attention.
velma/dorcas loves through understanding, through clarity, through naming things as they are.
shaggy/barty loves through presence, through staying, through being there even when everything else is a mess.
none of those are inherently wrong.
they just don’t line up cleanly.
and when they don’t?
that’s where things start to crack.
-
also just to be very clear before anyone starts getting ideas — dorcas and barty are not, have never been, and will never be a thing romantically.
like yes, that whole velma/shaggy comparison works on a structural level, but that’s just me mapping canon dynamics for the sake of analysis, not actual relationship endgame.
because dorcas is a lesbian.
full stop.
and barty is… barty.
which already cancels out anything remotely romantic before it even gets off the ground.
so what they actually are is friends — in that specific, slightly combative way where they spend half their time bickering and the other half existing in a weird, unspoken understanding.
she finds him irritating.
he finds that entertaining.
she keeps him grounded (whether he admits it or not).
he keeps her from becoming too rigid.
there’s no tension there in a romantic sense — no almost, no what-if — just a very functional, very sharp friendship that works because it doesn’t try to be anything else.
the velma/shaggy thing is just for the parallel, not the outcome.
Small analysis on the “true” names of the characters The Doctor & The Master:
Recently I saw a post about how Theta means death, and I thought why the hell not look up what Koschei means (outside of the villain archetype) and he means deathless. It had me thinking - these names that the fandom seems to have chosen from hints and archetypes are scarily accurate.
Theta; the meaning of death, the hero where we are constantly shown as the hero, is a morally gray character. They are never at the hands of death, they are death’s hands. They never welcome death, and may never die. But they welcome upon the deaths of others even unintentionally. To the point where they murder another child to protect their other half.
Koschei; the deathless, the villain which the hero can never rid of. They have “died” several times, and we are led to believe they’re really dead every time. But like a cancer that our hero can’t get rid of, they come back again and again. They are the hands of the universe, driven with a madness so pure sometimes it can be seen as beautiful.
These two are unable to be without each other, The Doctor, our Theta, cannot exist without the Master, our Koschei. To exist without the deathless brings the universe pure fury and destruction. They are two sides of the same coin, and I wonder if the fandom is even aware of how these names represent their characters so well.
