HONESTLY ... It’s rlly wild sometimes I am reminded and sit here and think like.
Man. Molly isn’t even like in the main hotel cast roster yk. Like I just kinda walked in and am like: well she’s HERE NOW, BABY!
I remember I used to be very nervous like one would with an OC because it’s like, “am inserting this character who doesn’t belong in the cast into the cast and trying 2 make her relevant”
And yk what. I fucking did it though bitch!
And no matter what I can least be proud of that. And I KNOW I helped spark the relevance of Molly. I caused a damn domino effect, I don’t care what anyone says but there is just a lot of shit that happened when making this blog that just is like. well well well.
But anyway point is.
I’m just like. again just rlly happy with what I managed to create and spark!! and just all the work i put and the amount of change an growth Molly has gotten!
And I think A LOT of how so many muses lives change too with her presence being here!! Like Angel is a BIG AND OBVIOUS ONE and just.. least imo make things a lot more interesting esp when thinkin bout his shit going on w Val so it’s just like.
kill bill sirens.
It puts just so much more stake on Angel too and is like: oh fuck now I REALLY have something to fucking loose now-
and that’s so scary yk!!
Charlie! Having that extra bit of support and someone who is v similar to her and shares the VIBES. Having that extra help and moral support and a shoulder to cry on without the vulnerability and fear of being judged or seen lesser because Molly offers that COMFORT yk??
Vaggie! Has someone in her corner and helps her deal with Angel’s shit and has someone who KNOWS Angel and someone to actually like. Defend her because pilot!charlie sure fucking doesnt but MOLLY SURE FUCKING WILL. And honestly I can imagine Vaggie just having a bit less stress with someone like Molly around.
Husk! Again someone who can help ease the heat of Angel’s stuff and someone who, like with Charlie, offers that sort of chill comfort and just... Vibes. She isn’t a hard ass like Vaggie, she isn’t overly bubbly like Charlie, she isn’t forward and relentless like Angel
She just is chill! Someone to just shoot shit with in the late evenings and wind down and just relax with yk.
LIKE I COULD GO ON. I HAVENT EVEN TOUCHED ON LIKE. CRYMINI, ALASTOR, BAXTER ...
DRUM ROLL PLEASE: brrrrrrdumdumdum - CALL ME 707 (lol, SEVEN’s cool though). I’m your resident …um, something. Anyway, let’s get to the good stuff. I’m a 28 year woman (she/her), who likes to escape the trials and tribulations of her job by writing about different worlds and fantastical characters. Let’s hope Seojun fits in that category. Kidding. Mostly. Lol.
( KIM TAEHYUNG. CIS MALE. ) Everyone in Vivian’s pack knows of ( SEOJUN HYUN,) one of her loyal Leechers. ( HE ) is/are a ( 25 / 427 ) year old lycan known amongst their packmates for being ( EFFICIENT + DUTIFUL ) but also quite ( STEADFAST - CALCULATING ) They’re known for being the ( SOLDIER ) Though they are technically disbanded, they are still dedicated to their cause.
clickety-click below to read more about this child of mine. plz&thnx, friends.
seojun, the past.
>> Seojun Hyun was born in 1567, during the Joseon Dynasty. His family were cattle herders who tried their best to live a simple life. Although there were many lessons taught to Seojun during this time, a majority of fundamental development went exactly as expected - there were no childhood traumas or events that shook his life into a path he couldn’t get out of. No, that would be saved for when he reached adulthood.
>> When Seojun was in his early twenties, impending war had started to edge into Korea and by the time Seojun turned 25, the Japanese Invasion began. It was the year 1592 when Toyotomi Hideyoshi lead the Japanese troops to invade Korea. Although his family had insisted that he refrain from enlisting, Seojun ultimately chose to enlist in order to protect his father and grandfather from having to do the duty themselves. However, during this time, Seojun had started to learn who he really was: a solider through and through. Seojun excelled in all of the aspects of being a solider - from the physical abilities to the mentality that came with war, he was a brilliant soldier and should have gone further up the ranks …
>> During the first year of his enlistment, everything had gone swimmingly. At least, it seemed to be going swimmingly. During a planned attack, Seojun had been separated from his squad and chose to hide in a nearby forest for safety. Unbeknownst to him, the war in the darkness of the forest was far worse than the war outside. As he wandered, he had been attacked by something - the darkness made it difficult for him to make out the figure. Although, he couldn’t see it, he could feel the blood lust and while he tried to fight, the creature had strength greater than he could even imagine. Seojun couldn’t remember if the darkness had grown too heavy or if he had blacked out, but the metallic scent of his blood clung in the air as he awoke.
>> Despite having been woken up bloodied, Seojun managed to remain calm. However, he saw a figure come near him, he did what any twenty-five year in the middle of a war would do when a stranger dressed in tatters and drenched in blood would do: he screamed and tried to get up. Unfortunately, whatever had attacked him had left far more injured than he expected - he was able to move two steps forward before hitting the ground again. The stranger hadn’t said anything, rather he walked over to Seojun and turned him on his back. The man claimed to be a “doctor” and had said he could save the fallen soldier. Seojun had been skeptical since the man began a blood transfusion on the forest floor. This seemed neither safe nor sanitary, but the soldier had closed his eyes and decided that if he were to die today, he would hope his parents would be honored that he fought for their country.
>> Sometime during this time, Seojun’s memory continues to grow fuzzy. He’s unsure of the events that had unfolded; he kept asking himself: "Are there werewolves in Korea?“
>> When he awoke, the man was no longer present. Seojun woke with confusion - he was suddenly alright, but something felt wrong. He didn’t feel quite himself. Not exactly. The man who had claimed to be a doctor had transfused blood into him …whose blood? Seojun frantically tried to figure this out but by the time he discovered it, it would be impossible turn back. The unknown doctor had been a Lycan taking cover in Korea.
>> Are there Lycans in Korea? Yes.
>> Seojun had quickly grown to accept his newfound identity. He decided that it would be best for his family to believe he died during the war rather than to know that he had become something other human. After his family was delivered the news that he had died during the war, Seojun began a nomad life - he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, not yet.
>> A pack of wolves in Korea had taken Seojun in - their leader being the “doctor” who had completed the blood transfusion that turned Seojun. They trained him in with their abilities and he quickly excelled in understanding himself. To be able to excel in anything, he needed to master himself beforehand. It took years to fully become as comfortable as he is now - the Seojun in the past would never have imagined he could be as skilled and talented as he is now.
>> Although, he had never gotten over leaving his human family, he had grown to love his new pack. Though Seojun tried to avoid any confrontations against the Vampires, when his pack leader and members had been killed during one of the many fights, Seojun could no longer allow himself to play the role of just an observer. He knew he had to step into the battlefield: a soldier can never rest, after all.
>> He quickly earned a reputation for his efficient methods - the work of a soldier needed to be quick, precise and deadly. Killing wasn’t something new to him. Rather, his Lycan abilities assisted in making him better at it. He’d been a soldier before anything else and since they were in a war, it was impossible not to act.
>> Seojun eventually left Korea in search for others to help with this on-going war against the vampires. He briefly met Vivian almost a hundred years ago and joined her pack. His youthful and softer appearance often allows people to underestimate the monster that hides underneath; the element of surprise has always been one of his favorite things in the world, after all.
>> The Peace Treaty makes him skeptical. He doesn’t believe it. He is a solider and has seen the wars that erupt when peace ends. Although, Seojun knows the public image that needs to displayed, there are plenty of things that go bump in the dark.
seojun, the present.
>> Peace and soldiers cannot coexist. At least, not in Seojun’s opinion. Luckily, he knew peace had always just been a mask for the truth - there are monsters in the dark, after all. Publicly, the Leechers had been disbanded but that was never something written in blood. There are people who spend their lives fighting against the nature burned in their blood, but Seojun had inherited the blood and accepted his truth. All he has to do is wait.
>> Seojun has always believe that the pack comes first. He does not care about the lengths he needs to go. It’s been four hundred years, he doesn’t mind if his hands gets a little bit dirtier. Although, he has been feeling antsy lately. Peace is boring to him, after all. Many people may have started to lose their edge due to peace, but if anything, it has made him more alert, more aware and evermore ready to jump as soon as the opportunity arises.
fun facts & other things.
>> Seojun is a connoisseur of steak. His family had been cattle ranchers, so he is very particular about the cuts and cooking methods of steak. He’s very, very specific in how steaks are supposed to be seasoned and cooked. Do not argue with him about either, especially when he’s got that steak knife in his hand.
>> He often changes his hair color as a way to signify that he has aged another year. His appearance has not changed much, but at the very least, he can change his hair color to make it look like time has passed.
>> Seojun likes to run. During his early years as a soldier, the man was talented in running and sprinting; he was the fastest in his squadron. With his lycanthropic abilities, it’s only made him faster. This desire for speed has always made him impatient; whenever his attention trips out, he will start tapping his foot and run off as soon as he is able to.
>> There had been a period of time when Seojun would always carry a sword with him. Despite always having a sword with him, he would always break said sword. It took him a few hundred years to master not breaking a sword.
>> If asked what his family was like, Seojun will say that he was raised by cattle before he ate said cattle. His birth family has never been a topic he liked to discuss. The people he had once loved became ghosts that haunted his memories.
... and I will probs add more but it is nearly midnight. If I keep going, it’s going to get really weird and specific. Like how Seojun always puts his left sock on before he puts his right sock on, but then puts his right shoe on before his left one. Or even how, he can never sleep in a room with an electric fan on - he swears that it could kill him if it’s still on when he closes his eyes. Or even like how when he has decided he will kill someone, he will write their name down in red ink - back in his years, when writing the family registry, a deceased person’s name is written in red ...so, if he has decided you’re going to die, he’ll write your name down with red ink and then burn the paper.
I don’t know. He’s weird enough for me to have a million headcanons.
Anyway, come at me with plots and thangs and headcanons and ideas and ...yes. I’m ready for it.
Thanks for reading down this far. Seojun and I appreciate you very much.
💙 Any OTP in your fandom you’d rather have be a BOTP?
A fair few, to be honest. Some even fall into the ‘romantic NOTP’ category. I’ll put this under a cut; I know that some of you do ship some of these ships, and there are some that I have a little bit of salt about (and one that I have… nothing good to say about), and if you do that’s fine! I’m not here to call anyone out, nor do I want to make anyone feel bad.
So first up, there are the ones that I don’t really have a reason aside from ‘it’s okay but I like them more as friends’. If I see it on my dash, I’m not annoyed or anything, I’m just less likely to look at it. These ships include (and might not be limited to, I’m doing this off the top of my head):
Toma and Bardock, Piccolo and Nail, Bulla and Pan, Raditz and Launch, Yamcha and Tien, and Kale OR Caulifla and Cabba. I’m sure there’s more but that’s all I can think of at the moment.
As for romantic NOTPs… two major ones come to mind. These two I have more reasoning for, but I won’t blame you if you ship one of these (as I said, one of them I have nothing good to say about).
The first one (the one that isn’t necessarily bad) is Broly and Cheelai. Fun fact: the fandom made me NOTP this ship twice. The first time was before the movie came out, and whenever I decided to look for Broly art to put on Fenn’s blog, I saw… a lot of Cheelai porn. I saw a lot of Broly being a creep and Cheelai being blushy and submissive. And I hated it! Thanks fandom! So going into the movie, I was nervous that Cheelai would be portrayed as Broly’s love interest and nothing more.
…And she wasn’t! She was fantastic! Cheelai was an amazing character, driven, relatable, active, had a strong sense of morals, and I agreed with everything she did! And she and Broly were written first and foremost as friends! And yes, I mean that completely! Cheelai, Broly, and Lemo were written as a trio; Cheelai got most of the focus because she’s pretty (lest we forget the time when Lemo was talking but the shot was him in the background and Cheelai’s butt in the foreground). Like when Broly is first introduced and it’s a close up on Cheelai’s eyes beholding him in awe? Lemo has the same expression before we focus on Chee. When Broly assaults that one guy in the dining room? He’s angry at him for harrassing Cheelai BUT he only attacks him once the guy knocks Lemo to the ground.
Like… for me it’s entirely possible to see Bro/lai as platonic and completely platonic, because they’re two pieces of a trio. They’re a family to me.
But lo and behold, the fandom started flooding the Broly tag with ‘Thirsty Cheelai’ and utterly ruined any chance I had at being okay with the ship being anything more than platonic. I could rant about how ridiculously out of character Thirsty Cheelai is and how it’s the reason why my initial reaction to any Bro/lai art is ‘nope’, but this has gone on long enough and I still haven’t touched on That One Ship.
Trunks and Mai.
Hhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So look. Platonic Future Trunks and Future Mai being close and helping each other survive in a really bad time? Good shit. Trunks dating a woman older than his own mother in every timeline in existence?
Awful.
I have nothing good to say about this ship. It exists because Toriyama wanted to bring back the Pilaf Gang, but not have them do what they did before and consistently fail, so he made Tru/mai a thing and gave Mai half a reason to be there and Pilaf and Shu maybe an eighth of a reason to be there. It makes Bulma look kind of ridiculous; they might have been from several years in her past, but you’d think she’d remember Pilaf at the very least? And Shu and Mai’s names should have rung a bell? Those three were around when Shenron was first summoned and the day Bulma learned that Goku was a weremonkey and the day that she started dating Yamcha it’s a pretty big day and not one she’d just forget.
And they killed off Future Bulma to make Future Mai more relevant. This isn’t a salt post (or it’s not supposed to be) but look. Fuck that. Fuck the hell out of that. Here’s another idea for you:
Goku Black Arc where everything’s the same except Future Bulma comes back in time with Future Trunks instead and gets to see all her old friends again and gets to meet herself and have arguments with herself because of differing values and they create some of the greatest machines together with their combined brilliance, and Future Trunks still wants to go back and help Future Mai because she’s his friend, damn it, and he’s already seen his best friend die because he wasn’t strong enough once before.
Now that’s something I’d rather see. It’s something I might even write myself one day.
But yeah. Trunks and Mai should never have been anything more than friends.
'i should have expected resistance. nothing worthwhile comes easy.' / genesis !!
FROM THE DESK OF THE NIGHT WARDEN: SAINT MAUD. no longer accepting.
her mind reels; swimming - half broken, shattered from clumsy hands and pressing fingers; striking cold and hot and branding her as harshly as an iron brand - vision blurred, eyes burning - the night warden does and does not know where is. was. would be. does not know who she is - she was someone, is someone; could be - was not; and the sounds and colours and sensations bleed into each other - bleed in to her; before quieting all together; and minthara, once so proud, finds her knees weakening - and she hits the floor with a loud groan; palms smacking against the stone; breathing harsh - heavy. she barely recognizes the words that come to her - let alone the face she'd seen what felt like years ago in the goblin camp.
worthwhile. " that is the first sensible thing you have spoken since i met you near that grove. " as weak as the night warden feels in this moment, her wit is still intact; and sharp as ever - teeth grinding as she looks up to the druid with blood-shot, red-rimmed eyes from her undignified position upon the blood-stained stone floors of one of moonrise's many cells. her expression is sharp; sour - brows furrowed into a scowl, teeth bared in a grimace. how quickly things had changed; looking up with such vulnerability where she once had looked down upon genesis with a sneer - for the absolute. but that voice had fallen silent now - blissfully so; and in that silence, minthara finds peace, if only for a moment.
briefly, her head tilts back; and her eyes flutter shut; pale neck arched and bared as though welcoming a blade to slit it. it would not be a lie to say that she is - it would be better than this dishonour; this half-life - and her head pounds; thoughts swirling as she attempts to gather them. the night warden cannot pin point exactly what has changed - only that she knows something has; and the shape that it once occupied within her feels hollow. empty. it's a rare moment of vulnerability; the way her hands shake, the way the night warden curls into herself where she had once been commanding; sure - dangerous. she does not feel like herself any more. does not know herself either - but what good would wallowing in this; the self-doubt, the fear; do?
fury burns in her colder than any flame - and minthara's red, red eyes snap open. small as she may be in this moment, the night warden no longer grants herself the luxury of fear - nor the time to recover from what ails her - she can't think. can't breathe. not here - not when - no, no. another breath. and slowly, the night-warden rises - rights herself; no longer that frightened shadow that @faereun had found, cowering and screaming in the cells. minthara baenre, wayward daughter, stands tall - firm; mouth fixed into a hard line as she looks down upon her would be saviour. she'd prayed for one. it looks as if someone had heard her after all.
" we cannot stay here. " an obvious statement said through gritted teeth; struggling to return to the woman she had known herself to be - that she had been for centuries. " you say you have expected resistance - continue to do so. we still have a distance to go until relative safety - and i do not think you have come all this way just to waste time with idle chatter. "
folklore album prompts // ⪻ @daniwrit : eowyn ⪼
↳ ❛ Are there still beautiful things? ❜
suffering an endless tether to the confines of the tower can drive one mad.
for weeks, the overbearing matrons of the Houses refused to acquiesce on even the slightest whim: a simple stroll through the garden? much too dangerous. what if he took a tumble from the high walls, if curiosity persisted he simply “peek” at the goings on of the White City below. any request was often met with very firm, very strict denial; the Wardens simply did not possess the numbers to oversee all their patients, nor could they prevent any mishaps their patients managed to stumble into.
nevertheless, Faramir suspects the sudden reasoning beneath the thin veneer of their refutation: a simple, chaste kiss bequeathed to the White Lady of Rohan for all to see. he does not regret his actions, simply the consequences.
fortuitously, he possesses knowledge of various routes not often patrolled by the ever watchful Wardens - such is how he often meets with her. such is how he is meeting her this very eve...
stars glitter across the expanse of the skies above; the garden is all but silent as he awaits her in the dim.
gray eyes settle upon the plains below, glimpsing all the war has wrought from the land: deadened grass, mass burials for those lost but remembered, and blackened spots of earth were pyres were lit to burn those of Mordor. gaze darkening akin to tumultuous thunderheads, the former captain settles himself against a column - his thoughts pensive as he continues to survey everything below.
his home, forever marred with the mark of the dark lord, is altered. yet, he lives. the black that once enshrouded the borders is gone. he can breathe easy again, for peace is simply on the horizon---
he does not hear her too-quiet arrival. words slip through his reverie, diving beneath the surface and dragging him forth, above the waves. lips part, as if for breath; joy manifests across his mouth. his belovedbeautiful guest dares to grace his presence with her ethereal light: like a pale shaft of sun desiring to break the umbral veil of night, she shines through and directs his gaze upon her equally beaming face.
the query, however, holds a degree of hesitation and apprehension. arms open to her in a charismatic sweep as he steps aside, silently encouraging her to look her fill.
as she steps towards him, reluctance halts her. she is not cowering at what she will see - no, not at all; for all her victories in the war --glorious as her vanquishment of the Witch King was-- anchor her with residual bitterness. instead, it is lingering dread. he glimpses it within her all too easily, for he, too, suffers such thoughts. all Men of Middle Earth possess it: a sensation of doubt that has them wonder if all things evil are truly gone. Faramir does not let her remain in the dark. his hand encloses about hers, gently pulling her forward until his other arm drapes about her shoulders.
enfolding her between his arms, his words rumble forth - a disturbance shattering the silence between them, but his voice is soft and his breath is warm, ❝ Do not worry, brave maiden. I only wish for you to see for yourself: the war has lashed the land and left its mark. But there are still beautiful things to behold. ❞ briefly, he releases her hand; his fingers curl into his palm save for a solitary digit; pointing to the horizon across the fields and towards the river, he murmurs, ❝ The city of Osgiliath is beneath the banner of the White City again; people flock to reclaim their livelihood. Over yonder--- ❞ he directs her gaze just south, then points to the skies overhead. ❝ ---there is no encroaching darkness; the very stars flare with their brilliance, as does the shieldmaiden betwixt my arms, for there are still beautiful things within our world. ❞
xel metallium is a woman whom hails from a region most won’t expect to hear falling from the mouth of a miqo’te, for after all, most know that miqo’te tend to be nomadic; either singly or in pairs if they’re not part of a tribe of the seekers, or reclusive if they are of the moon. but neither of those structures were part of her life, nay. xel hails from a province of coerthas in truth, close to ishgard, and she names it her home.
but how does a miqo’te of a tribe usually found in the warm arid climes of ul’dah come to call the rich mountains her home? well ... rather simply, in all honesty.
she doesn’t remember which tribe was hers, though her name implies which one she came from; however, despite visiting the x tribe, none of them recognized her when she went back years later as an adult. but she also doesn’t remember her birth mother or her father, whether he was a nunh or a tia. she suspects she’s a nunh’s child, however, but xel truly cannot recall. all she knows is she was but a kitten, no more than three or four summers of age, and alone when her father found her.
a hyur merchant that had been traveling stumbled across her, almost literally, for xel had been traveling along a road and it was but by a miracle alone that she hadn’t been set upon by a monster or a hungry predator. but with no food or water, she collapsed eventually and awoke to a kindly man peering down at her and asking if she was alright. she had no words and just latched onto him, crying, and unable to talk at that point in time. for days afterwards, he took care of her while she struggled with being able to speak until, finally, words began to pour out of her.
she was unable to tell him where she came from for she had no memories of what had happened or how she had gotten to where she was, but she latched onto this man and his kindness without hesitation. when he finally began to move on from selling his wares, he made attempts to pass her onto another tribe of miqo’te, only to be met with fierce resistance from the little girl who would break down into screaming fits. eventually, however, he resigned himself to the fact that she seemed to want to stay with him.
so it was that gillain took her home with him to his wife. sonya immediately took a shine to the little miqo’te girl because she and her husband had a pair of children already, not much older than xel herself. xel was shy at first with her new home and her new family, her name eventually fading from the x’el that she remembered of her name, all she remembered of her name, to the xel she uses now.
while things were initially quite good, xel found herself not feeling like she fit in. she was very close to her mother, though, when still little before things began to change. as xel grew older, she found herself receiving a classical education - along with learning that she had an affinity for magic. their closeness to ishgard left xel being trained first in ishgard for the burgeoning magic that she possessed, but that didn’t last long. xel’s affinity for magic was not that of the preferred white arts but steeped in the source of black magic. while black magic was not exactly illegal in coerthas, it was not widely studied so xel found her studies hampered by a limited range of teachers and study.
the little family grew larger as time passed and xel found herself starting to have friction with her parents as she began to grow older. being a miqo’te in coerthas had ever left xel standing out due to the rarity of her kind in those lands and showing affinity for black magic left her even more isolated from her peers. she was, in sum, a lonely child who lost herself in studies of old and obscure things out of interest. not only that, but as she grew older, sonya began trying to groom xel into being a paragon of a well bred young lady. to make her mother happy, xel tried to learn how to behave in social and political situations, learning such things at her father and mother’s knees. over the years, gillain had earned revenue and personal power alike and thus their family began to grow prominent in their province.
the clashes between xel and her parents, however, did not truly begin to occur until she was older. xel was a miqo’te in a hyur family and miqo’te are often creatures of instinct, especially the seekers. those instincts were not something that sonya and gillain were truly prepared to deal with, and xel was forced to learn to constrain such things within herself. however, such rules from one’s parents can lead to rebellion in teenagers and xel began to push back against her parent’s influence. she threw herself into what studies she could make of her time. it was hard to say how well things worked out but xel did learn how to be a proper young noblewoman in those years.
it was not, however, until her parents began to talk about marriage that her relationship with them truly fractured. xel was of marrying age by then, sonya had decided, and while she had not thought to be one of the children considered for such things, given that gillain and sonya had seven natural children by then as well as xel, she was their second daughter, though, as they had decided, and sonya had wished to see her happy. however, it was not until she began to talk to xel about the possibility of forming a relationship with a young man of another noble family that xel began to truly buck against the constraints of her parents. what began as an argument ended in fire as xel’s magical affinity left her accidentally setting the drapes of the room aflame with a burst of temper.
it was at that point that gillain decided it was time to send xel to the thaumaturges’ guild in ul’dah, knowing that he would not see his daughter for a long time once that occurred. her father had always been a quiet fixture in her life, teaching xel the magic of numbers as she would often help him with his ledgers and encouraging her in her choices. it was him she said goodbye to on the day she finished packing her bags and she promised that she would write them. it was gillain that saw her off as did her closer siblings. so it was that xel departed with a caravan heading towards mor dhona, planning to travel from there to ul’dah.
Hey, do you think you could run me through the basics of Ozcinder? I've never thought about it before and I'm curious what draws you to it.
oh boy. *cracks knuckles*
to start, enemies to friends to lovers is a cliche that i die for every time the opportunity pops up for it. with ozpin and cinder on opposing sides, the potential for enemies to begrudgingly working together allies to mutual respect between said allies to friends to closer friends/maybe i’m in love to oh shit i’m in love
it just writes itself tbh. that being said, most of the alternative ways i see ozcinder are in canon divergent scenarios, non-rwbyverse aus, and so on.
i really like the idea of how they’re also opposites yet also really similar at the same time. they’re opposite in their color scheme (ozpin’s green clothing & white hair to cinder’s red clothing and black hair) as well as their sides & motivations, but personality wise, they stay similar. ozpin and cinder both keep things close to their chest, only allowing a select few to know what they’re doing. (oz; qrow & glynda [james mentions feeling like ozpin is keeping him in the dark about things; that’s most likely true]. cinder; mercury & emerald [keeping roman in the dark about her plans. ‘you’ll know what you need when you need to know.]). they’re also in stark contrast to each other in that ozpin owns the fact he’s made many mistakes and tries to be a good mentor towards future generations of huntsmen and huntresses. he doesn’t want to get anymore people involved in his plans unless he has no choice to. cinder, on the other hand, is so self absorbed in her egomania and desire for power, she either doesn’t think about possible mistakes she’ll make/has made and doesn’t learn from them, and didn’t care who she brought along into her plan to bring about beacon’s fall, so long as they were someone who could help her reach her ultimate goal in the end.
there’s honestly a lot i could go off of, but the biggest reason i shipped it is because it started out as a crack ship that when i took a step back, actually kinda made a little sense to me, especially when you add in that enemies to friends to lovers trope.
trust me, i could go on and on about this ship, but since i’m just running though the basics on why i like it so much, i’m going to try to keep it short here. if you want to know more though, don’t be afraid to ask because i haven’t even talked about the countless aus i have for them
