#BECAUSE he thought that boy commited manslaughter

[yameoto]

yam love love love that analysis on cate you just posted and was curious what your thoughts are on queers (lesbians in specific obviously) reading her as a closeted lesbian going through comphet?

tbh i could talk about this for hours but would just like to say that she legitimately had queen maeve posters all over her childhood bedroom lol didn’t believe that soldier boy shit for a SECOND.

comphet reading of cate dunlap ft. mariecate

TLDR so u don’t have to read the whole thing; all of cate’s relationships with men are overall fake and do not revolve around love, rather the forging of an idealised identity formed around media (comphet Classic). cate’s only real raw genuine untainted relationship is with a woman. ft. mariecate

id love to my favourite hobby is looking at characters through a orangepinkwhite tinged lens. cate’s relationship with luke fits the comphet bill almost too well. firstly, cate being locked up her whole childhood means the formation of identity would be entirely based on media. a very heteronormative landscape of media, which aligns with traditional comphet. you could say her relationship with luke—literally golden boy—is comphet based, the ‘gold standard’ for a relationship cate’s drawn from all that she’s consumed in her childhood years. effectually, cate’s entire early life was robbed of her. and here, she achieves her perception’s ‘perfect’ idea of a life through luke, and forms her entire identity around him (hence her desperation to keep him). this is especially evident in the fact she changed her major to ‘hero management’ just to support luke’s career. to fully commit in shadowing him, for the rest of her life.

except, it’s fake. the entire relationship is fake. by the time of the show, cate has erased and changed and warped luke’s memory, his identity to the point where his mind breaks by the pilot. the fauxness and dysfunction of luke/cate’s relationship despite their image of unattainable perfection is probably her largest comphet indicator. maybe she loved him (not enough to remain faithful, however), but it reads as more of a subconscious love of what he represented, and something to anchor her identity to, which she’s never had a chance to form. as well as a means as to gain shetty’s affection and trust, no matter if she thought it was for his own good or not. her relationship with luke was poisoned, for a multitude of reasons.

(sidenote: cate/luke comphet reminds me of jiper comphet down to the false memories piper’s charmspeak and jason as the golden boy who literally explodes so like. there’s that’s free tidbit for anybody who is tapped the fuck in.)

cate has been so deprived of love she seeks it wherever she can find it. hence her stint with andre, which obviously ends in shambles because it’s foundations are already shaky, considering she’s cheating on luke with him, and andre is fucking his best friend’s girlfriend, but is also disingenuous, because cate’s compulsion powers arguably affect andre the secondmost to luke (though, by a wide margin). these are her two only romantic interests, and they suffer the worst consequences of it.

enter.. marie moreau. and cate’s relationship with marie is more genuine than any of her romantic relationships, which i think is the most telling thing. cate and marie serve as foils to each other: both in the manslaughter of their loved ones, the way shetty attempts to use them, and how can you NOT ship two reflections of each other?

in the finale, cate reaches out her hand, and andre can’t take it, because he doesn’t trust her. you can’t blame him. inversely, marie is the one always reaching out to cate, who is constantly defending cate’s intentions and her motivations to the others—when cate doesn’t deserve the benefit of doubt. partly, it’s because marie has known cate the least amount of time, making the betrayal sting the least. but also, cate’s relationship with marie is also the one least tainted by her compulsion powers; marie is the least affected by cate’s manipulations (to love her, to stay with her), and yet, despite marie not being compelled to do so; she still retains her faith in cate. that cate is good. that cate can be good, which is a fact not even cate believes in.

marie actively sees through cate’s compulsion, and later, nulls it. there’s a reason why marie is the one to discover cate’s betryal. there’s also a reason why marie is the one to blow cate’s arm off when saving jordan. in the same episode that cate reaches out and andre draws away, marie reaches out to cate, and cate draws away. that is a very direct comparison. it also speaks to cate’s larger unwillingness to accept love that is untainted, either fear she herself will ruin it, or because she doesn’t think she deserves it.

anyways, all this to say that yes, cate could totally be read as comphet. and mariecate is totally metal as they are, romantically involved or not.

[shazzyv]

Been rereading the Discworld City Watch series coz those books are like crack laced with serotonin and I think Carrot is simultaneously one of the best and most terrifying characters in Discworld.

Best because yes he's the goodest boi and he's got a werewolf gf and he's unfailingly honest and decent to pretty much everyone and is so earnest and sweet people just can't disappointment him. Except...

One thing that sticks in my head is that last scene in Men at Arms

SPOILERS for most of the City Watch books:

When, right at the end Cruces is telling Carrot he's a long lost king and has the documentation to prove. Carrot walks over to it, takes a read and while Cruces is doing his villain monologue, stabs him through the chest. It's quick and clean and Carrot doesn't even bat an eye that he just took a man's life on purpose.

I say on purpose because my boi literally committed manslaughter in the previous book when he threw the Law and Ordinances at Wonse. He didn't seem to miffed then either, aside from the fact he just misunderstood an order from a superior.

Granted it's a funny joke and Wonse was a bastard but Carrot doesn't seem to react to it.

Like, throughout the books Vimes constantly struggles with the urge to just go ham and remove all the people causing the problems. He's constantly faced with the cynicism and cruelty and just the sheer stupidity of the world and always tries to do the moral thing, to do it by the book because as he says, "if you can do it for a good reason, you can do it for a bad reason." He's in the grey between black and white.

Carrot on the other hand doesn't really seem to mind. We never really see what Carrot is thinking (probably because he's so honest he just flat out says it) so it's hard to parcel how he feels about things.

My headcanon is he killed Wonse by accident, never thought about it again and then killed Cruces when he realized Cruces was a greater threat than he realized plus was about to kill Vimes. You could say the same about him skewering a werewolf later on in Fifth Element, but that was a survival situation I feel. Granted he never really kills again but I like to think if Carrot was face to face with Carcer or Stratford it would've been a very short conversation.

I think that's another reason why Vimes keeps a close eye on Carrot. Imagine doing your best to live life by a strict set of moral principles only to have your charismatic, well beloved second-in-command simply kill a man in front of you then tell you without blinking you had a wedding to go to.

Carrot even says "Personal doesn't mean important" which kind of tells me that no matter what his feelings on the subject, he's going to try to do the right thing.

And he killed Cruces for, I feel, a good reason.

He's a good man who'll kill you without a word and Vimes is a good man who'll kill you when there's no other acceptable option.

Vimes is the grey and Carrot is the white that gets dirty.

[wooliguns]

He held his breath and closed his eyes. “Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he mumbled as he slipped the note into the mailbox, and then he was off to uni, just like everyone else.

~

i. and with words unspoken; a silent devotion

Venti scrubs furiously at the dried ketchup smeared on the base of his beloved fiddle, Diaochan, muttering complaints under his breath. He knew he shouldn’t have gone all-in on that burger. Sure, it was delicious, but the price he’s paying now—a ketchup massacre on his prized possession and his pristine white Converse—might not be worth it.

“Ugh, why?” he groans, glaring at the greasy stain like it personally betrayed him. The thought of scrubbing his shoes clean later makes him want to throw a tantrum, but instead, he sniffs and attacks the fiddle again with a wet wipe. Thank the archons he always carries these around. A hero’s weapon, really. Once the stain is vanquished, he tosses the used wipe at the trash can beside the bench. It misses.

Across from him, Xingqiu watches with his usual air of sophistication, wearing an outfit that screams trust fund kid—all crisp embroidery and fancy tailoring. Venti swears Xingqiu was born ready for a royal portrait. Judging by his expression, he’s either holding back laughter or mentally composing a tragic poem about Venti’s plight. Venti isn’t sure which.

“Diaochan deserves better,” he mutters as he tucks the fiddle back into its case with the reverence of a priest sealing a holy relic. He chucks the rest of his trash into the bin with a dramatic flourish, and this time, it lands. Progress.

Xingqiu finally sits beside him, harmonica in hand, fiddling with it absently. Probably stalling until Venti’s done wrangling his bag into submission.

“Venti?” Xingqiu’s voice is soft, almost hesitant, which is weird because Xingqiu is never hesitant. Or timid, for that matter.

“What?” Venti takes a sip of his plain milk tea. And yes, plain. No pearls, no weird jelly chunks—just tea and milk, as nature intended. Who even thought pearls were a good idea, seriously? Chewing something in the middle of drinking is just… wrong. But this is a rant for another day because Xingqiu looks like he’s building up to something, so Venti grudgingly tears his focus away from his Very Valid Opinions. Hmpf.

Xingqiu fidgets with the harmonica again, like he’s nervous about whatever he’s about to say. “Have you… ever been in love, Venti?”

And, there’s that. What?

Venti nearly chokes on his milk tea. “What?” he splutters, eyes wide as he sets the cup down before it becomes another casualty. “Love?” he echoes, blinking at his friend like the boy just asked if the sky is made of jelly. “Why are we having a feelings talk? Did I accidentally trigger a secret heart-to-heart button or something?”

Xingqiu sighs, patiently at least. “Fallen in love, Barbatos. You know, head over heels? Completely whipped? The kind of thing that makes you forget your own name because you’re too busy imagining their smile?”

Oh, archons. Venti feels his cheeks warm, making him smack them lightly with his palms, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering into dangerous territory. “Uh… I guess? Maybe?” He doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself.

Xingqiu rests his chin on his hand, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Hmm. I’ve been feeling that way lately. Like my heart’s too big for my chest, and I’m half convinced it might explode. It’s… unsettling.”

“And potentially fatal,” Venti supplies, lips twitching upward. “So what, your crush is out here committing emotional manslaughter, is that it?”

Xingqiu actually laughs, snapping his fingers like Venti just cracked the code to the universe. “Exactly! That’s what it feels like!”

Hm. Venti folds his arms, leaning back on the bench as he raises an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who’s the poor soul that’s got Xingqiu the untouchable all lovestruck and ready to implode?”

The faintest blush creeps onto Xingqiu’s cheeks, and for a moment, Venti thinks he might literally combust before the confession even leaves his lips. “Well, they’re… special. When I see them, my whole day just flips around. Even if I’ve had the worst week, one smile from them makes everything okay again.”

Huh. That sounds a little too familiar. Venti shifts, awkwardly, trying to brush aside the memory of how his heart does stupid somersaults whenever a certain someone smiles at him. Nope. Not going there.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad, huh?” he teases, nudging Xingqiu with his elbow. “Just make sure you don’t explode all over them when you confess. That’d be messy.”

“Messy but memorable,” Xingqiu counters with a smirk.

Venti snorts, taking another sip of his tea. The mood lightens, but a part of him can’t help wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of affection. The thought is a little terrifying—and yet… thrilling. He sets his cup down with a thunk, fixing his pal with a curious look. “But seriously, who’s got you all flustered? You’ve been rambling about this mystery person forever without actually saying who it is.”

Xingqiu stiffens, the tips of his ears turning a telling shade of red. He averts his gaze, staring at the ground as if it holds the answer to Venti’s question. And so he lets him stew for a moment, kicking at a pebble near his foot, and watching it bounce off the grass. Around them, the campus buzzes with end-of-day activity—students milling about, laughter and chatter drifting on the evening breeze. The sun dips lower, bathing the park in a golden glow.

Finally, Xingqiu clears his throat. “It’s someone I’ve known for a while. Since elementary, actually. We’ve been friends forever. Practically grew up together.”

“Oh? So… How come I’ve never met them?” Venti muses before fixing Xingqiu with a pointed look. “And you haven’t told them you’re in love with them?”

The boy shifts seemingly uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “Yeah, pretty much. And I don’t know, maybe you have met them. We all go to this college, after all.”

Venti grins, leaning forward, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Alright, describe them! Maybe I know who they are.”

Xingqiu snorts. “Please. You know everyone in this godforsaken school. ‘Few people’ is the understatement of the century.”

“Fair point,” Venti concedes, wagging a finger. “But that’s beside the point. Spill it!”

Xingqiu hesitates, clearly choosing his words carefully. “He’s… charming. Quiet. Sensible. Funny. Oh, and he’s got this pastel blue hair. His fashion sense is pretty cool too.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a catch,” Venti says, leaning back with a nod. “Why not just tell him? He’s kind too, right? Bet he’d understand—and who knows, maybe he likes you back!”

Xingqiu’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. Venti fights the urge to cackle. Poor guy’s so whipped. Still, he decides to spare him further teasing. Just this once.

“Uh, I’m not sure about that last part,” Xingqiu mutters. “About him liking me back, I mean.”

Venti tilts his head, a little aghast. “What? Come on, Xingqiu, you’re… well, you’re you! If he doesn’t like you back, that’s his loss.”

Xingqiu smiles but doesn’t look persuaded. “He’s… the kind of person who focuses on other things. Academics, new hobbies, random interests—he’s always caught up in something. I just don’t think he has room for love. Especially not for me, his best friend.”

Venti tenses at that word: best friend. It’s hard not to empathize… since he knows the struggle all too well. But he shakes it off quickly—this isn’t about him. “How would you know if you haven’t even asked him?” he mumbles, kicking at another pebble.

“I suppose you’re right.” Xingqiu sighs. “What do you think I should do?”

Before Venti can answer (not that he has a clue, considering his own crush situation is a hot mess), a sudden flash of light makes him squint.

“Hi, Venti!”

He blinks and finds Ganyu standing there, beaming at him with a DSLR camera in hand. She’s rocking a light pink headband, a matching sweater, and denim pants that scream cozy vibes only. Beside her is Xiao, looking as stoic as ever in his dark green hoodie and jeans, his camera—his most cared for α7R III 35 mm full-frame camera with autofocus, as he’d once reiterated with a grumpy snit—hanging around his neck. The guy’s got his usual ‘don’t mess with me’ deportment, though it’s a tad offset by the black gym bag slung over one shoulder.

“Ganyu! Xiao!” Venti hops off the bench to give Ganyu a bear hug, catching a whiff of her sweet perfume. She giggles as they pull apart.

“Hey, Xingqiu,” Ganyu greets warmly.

“Hey,” Xingqiu replies with a small smile.

Venti waves at Xiao, who responds with a brief nod and a flick of his hand before crossing his arms again.

“You guys heading home?” Venti asks.

“Just about to!” Ganyu chirps. “We were supposed to, but Xiao-ge here insisted we—”

“Yu,” Xiao interrupts, clearing his throat.

Ganyu pauses, visibly stifling a laugh. “Alright, alright. Anyway, Venti, are you coming?”

Venti perks up, brushing off whatever Xiao just stopped Ganyu from saying. If it was important, surely someone would’ve spilled it by now. “Ah, yes! I’m done with today’s lecture too, so I’m good to go. And tired,” he grumbles, slumping his shoulders for effect.

Xiao huffs, rolling his eyes as he turns on his heel. Typical. But then he pauses, looking back over his shoulder at Xingqiu. “What about you? Taking the subway?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. My chauffeur will be here any minute,” Xingqiu says with his usual air of nonchalance.

“Alright then, we’ll get going,” Xiao tells him, already heading off.

Ganyu waits for Venti to grab his bag and fiddle before the two of them turn to Xingqiu to bid him goodbye. Xingqiu smiles, politely, giving a small wave before standing up with his backpack and harmonica. Venti doesn’t miss how his friend ducks his head as he walks away, looking lost in thought.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s on his mind. Venti knows it’s about their earlier conversation—falling in love with his best friend. Not that Venti is one to judge, given his own situation. He makes a mental note to check in with Xingqiu again sometime. If he’s being honest, though, he’s probably the last person who should be giving advice. Handling emotions? Not exactly his strong suit. Sigh.

“Oh! What happened to your shoes, Venti?” Ganyu’s gasp snaps him out of his thoughts, and he glances down at his white Converse. The faint orange stains from the ketchup fiasco are still painfully visible.

He shrugs. “Burger incident. Ketchup everywhere. Some even got on Diaochan.”

“Poor Diaochan,” Ganyu coos, and Venti laughs, leaning over to poke her side. She yelps and bats his hand away.

“Klutz,” Xiao comments idly from a few steps ahead, his tone as flat as the campus pancakes Venti swears are made of pure rubber.

“Hey, I heard that!” Venti grouses, stomping his foot for emphasis.

Ganyu giggles at the exchange. She’s long since gotten used to their bickering, being Xiao’s younger sister and frequent witness to their antics. Whether Xiao is teasing Venti or Venti is mock-snapping back, she knows it’s all harmless. If anything, she finds it amusing how easily her brother gets under Venti’s skin.

“Good,” Xiao quips, calm and collected as always. He doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone.

Venti pouts, gravely, glaring at the back of Xiao’s head. He sulks in silence, already plotting his revenge. Someday, somehow, he’ll get even! Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

After a while, they reach the subway station. Xiao, ever efficient, pulls out his wallet and pays for their beep cards at the counter before Venti can attempt to dig through his bag.

“Hey, I can pay for myself—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Xiao says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Venti fiddles with the strings of his red hoodie, trying to will away the heat rising in his cheeks. It’s nothing, he tells himself firmly. Xiao’s just thoughtful like that. Always has been. No big deal.

They ride the subway in comfortable quiet, and when they reach their stop, Ganyu is the first to step off. Venti follows, hyper-aware of the light pressure of Xiao’s hand against the small of his back, just barely there, but enough to make his breath hitch. Xiao steps off last, his commonly unreadable facial expression in place.

It’s a routine they’ve settled into—heading home together whenever their schedules align. Though they all attend the same university, they’re in different programs. Venti’s studying music, while Xiao and Ganyu, both in their second year, are taking photography.

And yes, in reference to Xingqiu’s earlier jab, Venti does know almost everyone on campus. Between his extroverted nature, his music recitals, and his love of socializing, he’s managed to befriend students, staff, and even some of the locals. Like Zhongli, who grades most of his performances, or Diluc, the owner of Angel’s Share, their go-to spot for unwinding after a particularly brutal week.

“Will you be having dinner with us, Ganyu?” Xiao asks as the three of them reach the dormitory. He’s already fishing out his keys to unlock the door he shares with Venti.

Ah, yes. Their shared dorm. It’s been three months since they decided to move in together, agreeing it was more cost-effective this way.

At first, Venti had been… uncertain. Because, hello? Gay crisis alert! Living with his best friend of nearly four years, who just so happens to be the subject of his ongoing ‘gay episode’? Was he really about to risk combusting into rainbow-colored flames every time they shared a space?

Apparently, yes. And honestly? Venti’s kind of shocked he hasn’t self-destructed yet.

Because, come on. Who wouldn’t fall for Xiao Alatus? The guy’s practically an angel in disguise: handsome, reserved, hardworking, passionate about everything he does. People don’t just admire Xiao—they pine. And by ‘people,’ Venti means nearly everyone in their college… including himself.

When did Venti’s feelings cross the line into full-blown infatuation, anyway? He can’t remember exactly. Maybe it was during one of their late-night study sessions, or when Xiao quietly stitched up a rip in his hoodie like it was nothing. Or maybe it was the time Xiao made him tea when he was sick, fussing over him with that rare, gentle concern that made Venti’s heart feel like it was learning to play hopscotch.

Not that any of it matters. Because as much as Venti would love to confess, he won’t. He can’t.

Confessing means jeopardizing everything: their friendship, their closeness, the easy course they’ve built over the years. No, it’s better this way—Venti keeping his feelings bottled up, Xiao blissfully unaware, and the two of them carrying on as if Venti isn’t secretly drowning in unrequited love.

So, here he is. Living in a dorm with the very person who makes his heart race and his thoughts spiral. It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s fine.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll have dinner with my roommates!” Ganyu chirps, pulling Venti out of his reverie.

Xiao nods and unlocks the door, while Ganyu heads the opposite way. “Night, Venti!”

Venti hops forward to give Ganyu a quick peck on the cheek. “Night, Ganyu!”

“Just Venti?” Xiao muses, his tone light but teasing. “I’ve been nothing but a good brother to you, and you only say goodnight to this squirt?”

And, well, Xiao has a point… He’s probably both the best and the worst brother anyone could have. Best because he treats his sisters like they’re the moon and stars in his orbit; worst because he’s so overprotective he practically turns into a watchdog when it comes to them.

“That’s because she loves me more,” Venti shoots back, sticking his tongue out. That earns him a sharp pinch to his side, making him yelp. “Ack! Hey!”

Ganyu laughs as she heads inside her dorm, shutting the door behind her and leaving Venti and Xiao to their nonsense.

“You suck,” Venti grumbles, rubbing his side.

“I know,” Xiao replies, entirely unbothered.

“Ugh, a proud sucker, aren’t you?”

Before Xiao can retort, Venti slips under the arm Xiao had oh-so-conveniently used to block the doorway, darting into their dorm. Xiao clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn’t stop him.

Straight to the fridge he goes, thinking of grabbing a carton of milk and pouring himself a glass instead of dawdling at the fact that this—sharing a space, having these easy, domestic moments—is the closest he’ll probably ever get to having Xiao.

And that’s fine. Totally fine. No one’s crying over spilled milk—or unspoken feelings—tonight.

The door slams shut from the foyer, and then he hears Xiao call, voice dry as sandpaper, “This is why you keep getting dirt on your stuff. You’re always so clumsy.”

“Yeah, well, that’s none of your business,” Venti retorts, but without a shred of actual bite, of course. Taking the piss out of Xiao is simply his second language.

So then, the guy follows him into the kitchen, gym bag already discarded somewhere. He stops in the doorway, one hand on his hip, watching Venti with the kind of mildly disappointed bearing that screams I told you so. It’s classic Xiao—repose, condescending, and clearly here to shame him. Ugh.

However, Venti ignores the look, hopping onto the kitchen counter and letting his legs dangle as he gulps down the milk he snagged. He finishes in one go, sighing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Ah, that’s good.”

Xiao wrinkles his nose like Venti just committed a mortal sin. ‘Gross,’ his face says it all.

“Listen… If you’re using the detergent bar for that mess of a shoe,” Xiao begins, voice clipped with faux authority, “put it back in its container when you’re done.”

This has Venti rolling his eyes. Because oh, Xiao and his obsession with cleanliness. The guy’s a walking catalog for Proper College Students Who Have Their Shit Together. Straight A’s, always smells like fresh cedarwood, folds his laundry into perfect squares, and somehow thought sharing a dorm with Venti—human chaos incarnate—was a good idea.

“Yeah, yeah,” Venti mutters. “What’s for dinner?”

“My sister’s not eating with us, so don’t expect me to cook for you, you big baby.” Xiao turns on his heel and disappears down the hallway.

Venti sighs. “K.” He hops off the counter and dumps his glass in the sink with a clatter before trudging toward his room.

On the way, he spots Xiao’s gym bag lying in the middle of the floor, which, whoa. Rare for Xiao to leave something out of place. Before Venti can think too much about it, the guy in question reemerges from his room—shirtless, save for his black boxers, the full sleeve tattoo on his arm twisting over his biceps and curling down to a sliver of his back. And—fuck.

Venti’s thoughts short-circuit as he stares—because, gosh, those abs? Those shoulders? That tattoo? The way the light hits his skin? His entire existence? It’s almost criminal, damn it.

Stupid brain, Venti scolds himself, backing up fast before Xiao notices his ogling. But no such luck. Xiao glances his way, smirking as he saunters over to pick up his gym bag.

“Is that saliva I see?” the guy teases, tipping Venti’s chin up with one finger.

Freezing, swallowing every ounce of mortification he feels crawling up his neck, Venti snaps, “Fuck off,” fighting the blush that threatens to betray him.

Xiao laughs—an infuriatingly smug laugh—as he walks off, gym bag slung over one shoulder. And of course, Venti’s traitorous eyes trail after the flex of Xiao’s back.

Seriously. Fuck Xiao and his stupid, stupid muscles!

Fuming, Venti storms into his room, slamming the door so hard the whole dormitory practically shakes.

**

They end up ordering Thai food for dinner, with Venti footing the bill this time. It’s not a big deal—just a couple of boxes—and he’s got enough savings to splurge a little.

They eat in companionable silence, both too drained from the day’s academic grind to bother with small talk. Each of them occupies their usual spot on the beaten brown sofa: Xiao at one end, hoodie-clad and cross-legged, and Venti at the other, sprawled like a content cat.

Xiao finishes first. Tossing his empty box into the kitchen trash, he announces, “I’m going downstairs to check the mail.”

Venti hums in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking to the TV where Alice in Borderland plays. He pauses mid-chew to absorb a particularly intense scene but waves Xiao off without looking.

A few minutes later, Xiao returns. The door clicks shut behind him, and he holds up an envelope. “You’ve got something in the mail,” he says.

That catches Venti’s attention. He whips his head around, an eyebrow raised. “Oh? What does it say? Open it.” His voice is muffled, mouth still half-full.

His roommate obliges, ripping the envelope open where he stands by the door. Venti pauses the show, turning his full attention to Xiao as he pulls out a slip of paper and starts reading.

“‘Dear Venti, I saw you today, and as always, you look pretty…’” Xiao pauses, lifting an eyebrow of his own before shooting Venti a look. “It’s a love letter.”

“Is it, now?” Venti perks up, grinning. He leans forward, resting his chin in his hands. “Who in this day and age sends a love letter? Ohh~” A giggle slips out of him, uncontrollable and silly.

Xiao, meanwhile, furrows his brows and scans the letter again. Just when Venti thinks he’ll read more aloud, the guy bursts into laughter. Full-blown, clutching-his-stomach laughter, and… what? Why?

Venti frowns. “What’s so funny? Give me that! At least someone likes me enough to write me a love letter!” He bolts upright, crossing the room to snatch the letter from Xiao’s hands.

Still laughing, Xiao straightens and wipes at nonexistent tears. “Nothing. It’s just funny, that’s all.”

“What’s so funny about it? I don’t get it!” Venti grumbles, clutching the paper like it’s suddenly become the most precious thing in his possession.

But Xiao doesn’t answer, already turning toward their bedrooms. Venti watches, seething, as Xiao walks away with a smirk.

“Prick…” he mutters under his breath.

Just then, Xiao pauses just long enough to glance over his shoulder, shaking his head while opening his door, before stepping inside, and shutting it behind him.

Left alone, Venti sighs, the letter crumpling in his hand. He sniffs, half-stifling a sneeze as he flops back onto the sofa. “This day sucks.”

**

“Out of the way!” Venti hollers, though he can barely hear himself over the blaring classical music in his earbuds. He’s hurtling down the bridge on his roller skates, a disaster waiting to happen, as startled passersby leap out of his path.

This was such a brilliant idea, he thinks sarcastically. He’d told himself this morning it’d be fun to skate to uni—he hadn’t used them in ages, after all. Now, he’s barreling through crowds, dodging humps in the road, wobbling precariously as he balances Diaochan in one hand, a stuffed backpack on his shoulders, and his phone in his pocket, earbud wires flapping like tiny victory flags.

So far, he’s earned himself a colorful vocabulary of curses from people he’s nearly mowed down, but, oh well, he couldn’t care less. He merely giggles, breezing past their outrage as he flees their grabby hands.

Xiao and Ganyu left long before he woke up, so it’s just him today, skating through dust and pandemonium, praying he makes it to campus on time for once in his life, holy shit.

As the campus building comes into view, he braces to stop. Except—oops—he’s rusty after months of not using these skates. The next thing he knows, he slams full force into someone, and the two of them go crashing to the ground in a heap.

“Ow, what the actual fuck,” groans the girl he’s collided with.

Someone in the background bursts into hysterical laughter. Venti winces as he pushes himself up, his butt smarting from the impact. His earbuds have popped out, letting him hear the obnoxious cackling louder and clearer. “Uh, sorry,” he mumbles, sheepishly, adjusting his helmet to make sure it’s still secure.

“You asshole!” the girl—Mona, he realizes—shouts at the unseen laugher. “You think this is funny? How about giving us a hand?”

“Why would I? I’m not your slave. Besides, once is enough.”

Mona groans, glaring daggers in the direction of the voice. “Just as I fucking thought. You’re an insufferable nuisance.”

Meanwhile, Venti helps Mona to her feet, careful not to jostle Diaochan any more than the crash already did. “Sorry again,” he says with a grin, brushing dirt off his sleeves. He tries to help dust Mona off too, but she smacks his hand away with a scowl.

“And you, Barbatos!” she snaps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Venti whines impishly. He adjusts his fiddle, relieved it doesn’t seem damaged.

“Hey, I know you,” muses the guy who’s been laughing at their expense.

Venti glances over, taking in the stranger’s outfit—a black band shirt, ripped jeans, and purple-and-black Vans—and the short, dark violet-blue hair that matches their sharp eyes. “Me?” he points at himself, startled.

“Yeah. You’re that guy from the music hall the other day. The one who got kicked out for showing up drunk.”

Venti feels his face flush. Oh, that. Right.

That was the day Diluc, bless his bartender’s soul, gave him a cider to calm his nerves before a recital. Things… went downhill. Zhongli had kicked him out—mercifully without expelling him. Venti still likes to think that’s proof the man has a soft spot for him. He chuckles, awkwardly, unbuckling his helmet. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool,” the guy beams, nodding approvingly. “That was hilarious—and your voice was amazing, by the way.”

“Well, thank you,” Venti preens, flashing a bright smile.

“Glad we got that settled,” Mona cuts in, deadpanning.

“So how do you know this hag?” The boy flicks a thumb in Mona’s direction.

“E-excuse me?! Who are you calling a hag?” Mona gasps, incredulously, her eyes narrowing.

The guy shrugs, crossing his arms. “Well, I look young, and this guy”—he jerks his chin toward Venti—“looks like my fifteen-year-old cousin, so? Who else?”

“Heeey!” Venti protests, though he’s not truly offended. Still, he feels obligated to pout.

The boy just winks at him.

“You’re seriously a cunt,” Mona hisses, glaring daggers.

“Mhm. But where’s my thank you?”

Venti blinks. “Thank you? For what?”

Before anyone can clarify, Mona’s face turns bright red—not out of gratitude, but what seems like pure rage. She grabs Venti’s arm and yanks him away. “Whoa!” he stumbles, skates wobbling.

“Let’s go, Venti. We’re leaving this jerk far behind,” she growls, dragging him along.

“Eh? Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here!”

“Wait, Mona!” Venti tries to dig in his heels—well, wheels—but Mona’s resolve is ironclad. “I have class!”

“I know, but help me out here! I need to escape this moron!”

Venti ends up blowing a sigh, letting himself be pulled along. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

“Fine.” And that’s how they end up in a coffee shop two blocks from campus, with Mona treating Venti to a White Chocolate Mocha grande while she nurses a cold foam iced espresso. The girl insists she needs something strong to calm her nerves after dealing with that boy. “I swear to the gods,” she exclaims, fanning herself as if physically exhausted by the memory, “that punk has been following me around all week. And for what? To be a pest, of course!”

Venti has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. It’s rare to see Mona like this, actually—the customarily cool, self-possessed adult in their group, completely undone by some emo-looking kid.

Instead, he grins and soaks in the coffee shop’s cozy vibe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air-conditioned space. His legs dangle under the table, his roller skates rasping softly against the floor. He hasn’t bothered to take off his elbow and knee pads, too lazy to deal with them just yet.

“So,” he starts, going for casual, “who was that anyway? Your secret admirer? Or…” He leans in, mischief taking over his system. “Your boyfriend?”

Mona’s head snaps around so fast it’s a wonder her coffee doesn’t spill. “Don’t even say that,” she hisses. “Venti, that’s disgusting. Have you completely lost your mind? Who would fall for a douchebag like that?”

Venti shrugs, pulling his yellow hat snugly onto his head. “I don’t know… you?”

Her groan is unadulterated agony as she sets her coffee down with a loud thunk. “Ugh! Okay, yeah, he might look like some Disney Channel reject—”

“Wow,” Venti mutters, snickering.

“—but hell to the no!” she presses on, ignoring him. “Over my dead body! Never. I’d rather eat dirt. Literal dirt.”

She feigns a gag for emphasis, and Venti can’t hold back his laughter this time. “Alright, alright,” he allows, grinning. “But seriously, how do you know him? And why’s he following you around?”

Mona takes a deep, long-suffering breath. “Fine. It all started last week. I had a bad week, okay? Stress piling up, professors breathing down my neck. So, I went out to a nightclub to blow off some steam.”

“And?”

“And I got drunk.”

“Obviously.”

She glares at him, and Venti raises his hands innocently.

“Anyway,” Mona continues, “I got way drunker than I planned and… passed out on the street next to the club.”

Venti shakes his head in mock disapproval. “Geez, Mona. And you’re judging me?”

She rolls her eyes but forges ahead. “So, this guy—the emo gremlin—found me. I vaguely remember telling him to go away, but apparently, he didn’t listen. Don’t ask me how, but he somehow dragged my useless, hammered body back to his place. And when I woke up…” She winces, her voice dropping. “…I was wearing his clothes.”

Venti’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. His clothes. And I was in his bed.”

“Oh-ho!” Venti leans forward, suddenly all ears. “Go on.”

Mona rubs her temples, her frustration visibly mounting. “I was so confused. I didn’t see him anywhere, but there were Polaroid photos on a table, and a mug of something steaming. He must’ve been around, but I wasn’t about to stick around to find out.”

“What’d you do?”

“I snuck out.”

“Oof.”

“Right?” She groans, slamming her hands on the table hard enough to make Venti jump. “Now he’s bugging me about it. And as if that’s not bad enough, he goes to our school!”

Venti smirks, taking a long sip of his mocha. “Well, I think it’s sweet. I mean, he did take your drunk ass home instead of leaving you on the sidewalk. Kind of thoughtful, don’t you think?”

“Ugh, shut up,” Mona scoffs, shaking her head and looking away.

Venti just grins wider, savoring both his drink and her flustered state.

After a while,

“Do I really look old, Venti?”

“Huh?” He blinks, startled at the sudden query.

Mona frowns, deeply, her lips wobbling. “He called me a hag just now.”

And, “Oh…” His mouth forms a small o. Venti sips his drink instead of answering, because honestly, what does one even say to that? If he didn’t know Mona better, he might think she was on the verge of tears. But no—this is Mona. She doesn’t cry over something as trivial as being called a hag.

Her eyes, however, are practically sparking with rampage, her ears threatening to blow steam. Venti watches, entertained, as her assertion grows darker by the second.

Before she can launch into a full tirade—or grab him by his jumper strap—the shop’s entrance dings open. Xiao strides in, his younger sister Ganyu trailing behind, chattering animatedly to him about something neither Venti nor Mona catches.

Ganyu’s eyes land on them first. “Oh, Venti’s here! And Mona, too!”

“Hiiii,” Venti drags out, beaming as he bolts upright from his seat. It’s a tactical escape from Mona’s piercing glare. Ganyu meets him halfway for a hug.

“You two act like you haven’t seen each other every day,” Xiao drones, dryly.

Venti finally acknowledges him and feels his heart do a series of flips. Xiao’s plain oversized white T-shirt shows hints of his tattoos, his Sony headphones hooked lazily around his neck, paired with black-and-gray cargo pants and pristine Adidas sneakers. He’s a snack, is what he is, and it’s just so… unfair.

“Yeah, well, that’s just how much we love each other. Sue us!” Venti snarks, glaring at Xiao for good measure.

Ganyu giggles. “Right,” she agrees, while Mona blows raspberries at the exchange.

Alas, Xiao narrows his eyes at him. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you say you had practice today?”

Venti stills, caught red-handed. “Ah, about that—”

Mona elbows him hard, cutting him off. “I dragged him here, Xiao. I’m being stalked by some creep.”

“A kind and gentlemanly creep, wouldn’t you say?”

The voice comes from behind them. Mona’s head whips around, her face already twisted into a snarl. “You—! How did you find us—”

“Instinct,” the emo boy from earlier ripostes smoothly, stepping forward and winking. Before Mona can retort, he turns to Xiao, grinning. “Hey, man!”

Xiao steps up, and the two swap a swift one-arm hug with a firm pat on the back. “Hey, Scara,” Xiao greets, his voice low and raspy, that familiar early-morning tone that never fails to send shivers down Venti’s spine, causing him to bite his lip unconsciously.

Okay, focus.

“Wait, so you two know each other?” he points between them, desperate for a distraction.

“Yeah, we’re block mates,” the other guy says easily. He thrusts a hand toward Venti. “Name’s Scaramouche. Didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier, thanks to a certain hag.”

That’s the final straw. Mona explodes. “I’m not a hag! I’m twenty-two, you dumbfuck!”

Scaramouche, unfazed, taps his chin thoughtfully. “Huh. I thought you were younger… but no, I was right. You are a hag.”

His words drag out like a slow-motion scene in a bad movie, each syllable a dagger to Mona’s ego.

Mona’s cheeks puff up, her fists balling at her sides. Her entire body seems to radiate fury. “I’m gonna kill you!” she roars, launching forward.

In a blur, Venti and Xiao step between them. Ganyu, wisely, backs away.

Venti struggles to hold Mona back, wincing when her claw-like nails dig into his arm. “Mona, calm down!” he pleads, all too aware of Xiao pressed against him, their proximity sending his heart racing for an entirely different reason. And…don’t even get him started on the perfume his best friend wears. It’s just—intoxicating, really.

“Hey, you,” Xiao murmurs, addressing him. Venti glances up, finding the guy checking his watch. “You should get back to campus,” he says softly.

“What? And leave you with these two?”

Xiao nods dismissively. “I’ll manage. Just go.”

Reluctantly, Venti yields. “Okay,” he utters. Carefully, he slips out of Mona’s grip, still wincing at the aches in his arm, and grabs his things.

Even as he steps out onto the bustling street, Mona’s shouts and Scaramouche’s laughter reverberate behind him, making him shake his head. “What a day,” he intones, skating off toward campus.

**

He bursts into the practice room, late as usual. The moment his foot crosses the threshold, Zhongli’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“Where have you been?”

The professor stands near the piano, arms crossed and brows furrowed in the kind of disapproving look that could make a lesser student crumble.

Venti ducks his head as he scrambles to his spot, clutching Diaochan’s case to his chest. “Uh, I got caught up with something. Mona—you probably know her, from the Astrological Education department—was being stalked by someone, and they—”

“Never mind I asked,” Zhongli interrupts with a tired wave of his hand, as if deciding he’s too old to deal with the details of Venti’s perpetual havoc. “Just take out Diaochan and play your piece, if you would.”

“Yes! Of course!” Venti salutes, snapping into action.

He flips open his case, carefully lifting Diaochan as if she’s made of glass. His bow follows, and in moments he’s in position, movements precipitate and adept. Chin resting on the violin, he takes a steadying breath as he angles the instrument perfectly against his collarbone.

The room appeases once he begins his chosen piece, In the Palace - Lamentoso. The melancholy strains fill the concert hall, wrapping around the audience like a gentle embrace. Venti can feel the change in the room’s atmosphere, the mass of their attention pressing against him. Some sigh quietly, conceivably hugging themselves to the music.

He risks a peek, cracking one eye open mid-performance. Sure enough, his audience is enraptured. Even Zhongli, who never shows much outward emotion, seems lulled by the piece, swaying as if under a spell.

Venti smiles inwardly, letting their reactions fuel him.

Then his gaze catches on the double doors at the back of the concert hall, creaking open to reveal Xiao and Ganyu.

His bow falters for half a second as heat rushes to his cheeks. Seeing them weaving through the scattered audience like that, with Ganyu leading the way, her eager smile bright enough to light up the dim hall. Xiao, trailing behind, looks as composed as is, hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed ahead.

Zhongli clears his throat, jolting Venti back into pivot. Hastily, he corrects his rhythm and carries on, pouring his emotions into the piece until it crescendos to its final, haunting note.

The room erupts into applause.

Ganyu hops up and down at the front of the stage, grinning as widely as the moon. She flashes Venti a playful thumbs-up. Beside her, her brother stands still, arms folded across his chest, bowed a smidge with his eyes shut.

But it’s the barely-there smile playing at Xiao’s lips that catches Venti’s breath. Xiao doesn’t smile often, but Venti knows exactly what that one means. He’s proud of him.

Venti’s chest swells, warmth spreading through him at the notion.

“Well done,” Zhongli announces once the clapping fades. He gestures for Venti to run through a few more pieces, which Venti does without complaint, buoyed by the lingering energy of Xiao’s quiet approval.

At long last, practice concludes. Zhongli offers a rare, vague smile. “A fine performance, Barbatos. Though I would appreciate your punctuality next time.”

Venti scratches the back of his head, grinning. “I promise. Next time for sure!”

Zhongli hums, clearly unconvinced, but lets it slide as he leaves the hall.

Venti exhales in relief, slinging Diaochan’s case over his shoulder. He glances down at the siblings waiting near the stage, and he can’t help the little grin that creeps onto his face.

Late or not, today didn’t turn out so bad after all.

**

“Ah, I’m knackered, dead, exhausted—the lot,” Venti complains the minute they step into their dorm. He barely waits for Xiao to close the door before collapsing onto the sofa, sprawling across it like a tragic painting of a very tired, very melodramatic college student. Him.

Xiao toes off his sneakers by the door, neatly placing them on the rack. Venti watches out of the corner of his eye as Xiao also aligns them perfectly, contrasting sharply with Venti’s own loafers, which lie haphazardly by the carpet, their heels pointing in opposite directions.

He squeezes his eyes shut and groans against the couch cushions, kicking his legs petulantly. “I feel like I’ve been jetlagged, and we didn’t even travel by plane!”

“Quit it, you drama queen,” Xiao mutters, grabbing one of Venti’s legs mid-kick to stop the flailing.

Venti rolls onto his back to face Xiao, huffing indignantly. He tries to ignore the way his stomach flips at the casual touch. One hopeless sort, his brain berates him, and he agrees with it. “A lot happened to me today, okay? I’m allowed to be a little dramatic about it!”

“‘A little’ is an understatement.” Xiao cocks an eyebrow, then pulls a light green envelope from his pocket and waves it in Venti’s face. “Also, you’ve got another one.”

Venti perks up immediately, sitting upright as his eyes narrow on the letter. His name is written across it in looping cursive. “Oh.” His expression sours just as quickly, and he stands abruptly, walking toward the bathroom. “I don’t have time for that.”

“Really? Didn’t you just gush about getting one yesterday?”

“Yeah, and you just laughed at me, remember?”

Without waiting for a response, Venti shuts the bathroom door, cutting the conversation off. He strips, tossing his clothes onto the sink before stepping into the shower.

The warm spray hits his skin, and he exhales, planting one hand against the wall. Showers after a long day are pure bliss, a small slice of heaven he can cling to after surviving college and the disarray that is his life.

After a while, Xiao’s voice comes through the door. “What do I do with this letter, Venti?”

“I don’t know!” Venti calls back over the sound of water. “Read it, maybe?”

There’s no reply.

By the time he’s done showering, drying off with a towel slung around his neck, the dorm is quiet. He slips into his room to change, opting for a tie-dye shirt and red shorts before padding back into the living room.

Xiao is sitting on the sofa, focused on the letter.

“I wonder who the sender is,” Venti muses aloud, making the other glance up. For a moment, Xiao just stares, his brows creased slightly, amber eyes indistinct.

“What?” Venti asks, putting a hand on his hip.

Xiao looks like he’s about to say something, lips parting briefly—but then he closes them again, rising from the sofa. “I don’t know, Venti,” he mutters, sounding serious for some reason. “But whoever they are, they’re creepy as hell.”

He presses the letter against Venti’s chest—just a little too hard—and breezes past him.

“Hey!” Venti squawks, watching Xiao disappear toward his room. “What’s your problem?”

Xiao slams the door shut before Venti can catch up.

“Don’t you think the letters are sweet?” Venti bangs on the door, his voice muffled by indignation.

From the other side, Xiao’s voice comes back, withered and stony. “Nope. Two letters in two days? Knowing your exact address and room number? That’s creepy.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re an admirer! They’re supposed to know things about me!”

Xiao’s silence feels like judgment.

Venti grumbles and raises his fist to knock again, but the door swings open before he can.

And Xiao stands there, leaning against the doorframe, wearing nothing but his black boxers. His teal-highlighted hair is rumpled, eyes sharp and piercing. The proximity—his face so close that their noses are almost brushing—makes Venti’s breath catch.

The intensity of Xiao’s gaze is paralyzing. No words are exchanged, just the soft sound of their breathing filling the air between them.

What the fuck is happening?

Venti blinks, rapidly, stepping back to put some distance between them. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

Xiao breaks the silence, his voice low and rooted. “All I’m saying is you should be more careful.”

Desperate to defuse the tension, Venti forces a smirk. “Oh? Is that my best friend worrying about me?”

Xiao pauses, considering, then scoffs. “I’ve always cared about you, idiot.”

Venti’s heart does a little flip. His gaze softens without his permission, warmth spreading through him. “I—Xiao—”

“But look at you,” Xiao interrupts, gesturing vaguely in Venti’s direction. “You’re small and gullible. You’re an easy target for this kind of thing.”

And just like that, Venti’s fondness evaporates. His lips twitch into a snarl. “I was about to hug you for saying you care, but now I just want to take it back.”

Xiao chuckles at his wake, but Venti storms back into the living room, muttering under his breath.

Moments later, Xiao joins him on the couch, now wearing a gray sweater, and flops down beside him with a huff. Without warning, he reaches over and smacks the back of Venti’s head.

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing the spot with a pout.

“Stop pouting, pufferfish,” Xiao growls, grabbing Venti’s face with one hand and squishing his cheeks, his grip firm but not painful.

“Mmph! Make me!” Venti hoots, his voice muffled as he tries to glare, but his scrunched-up face is anything but intimidating.

Xiao just smirks, daffodil eyes soft with amusement as he studies Venti’s exaggerated scowl. He doesn’t let go, and Venti sighs in defeat, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Fine, you win,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, resigned to his fate. “Do your worst.”

But instead of teasing him further, Xiao suddenly goes quiet.

Venti feels the shift instantly. Odd. He cracks one eye open, curious, and finds Xiao’s conveyance scrawled. His hand is still on Venti’s face, but his grip loosens, his thumb brushing…lightly against Venti’s cheek before pulling away altogether.

“Whatever,” Xiao mutters, disengaging curtly. His voice is low, almost distant. “I’m calling it a night.”

“What?” Venti blinks, sitting up straighter. His heart—it won’t stop pounding. “We… we haven’t even had supper!”

“Need to be up before sunrise. Lock up after yourself.”

And just like that, Xiao disappears into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Venti stares after him, his hand coming up to his cheek where Xiao’s touch had lingered just moments before.

“…What just happened?” he mutters under his breath, leaning back into the couch. He presses his palms to his face, groaning softly.

The crack in the ceiling catches his eye, and his gaze narrows on it as if it holds the answers to the sudden whirlwind in his chest. Did Xiao almost ki—no. That’s ridiculous.

…Isn’t it?

[myths-tournaments]

Awful Characters Round 1 Part 4 (2/8)

Propaganda under the cut!

VEGAS THEERAPANYAKUL

he's such a polarizing character because there's the group of us who are like Vegas <3!!! and then there's the people that point out his many crimes against humanity and lack of redeemable qualities or actions. he brutally tortures his love interest. he commits lots of crimes against the protagonist including drugging him. he's literally the villain. I love him so much though he's the poorest little meow meow of all time

As the oldest son in the minor mafia family in Thailand, Vegas seeks every opportunity to outdo his cousin from the main family. He hires an assassin to go after him. On another occasion he drugs, kidnaps, and assaults a guy to get at his cousin. He secretly schemes with the Yakuza, plots to frame that same guy as a mole working for the main family, fakes being in love with his cousins ex-boyfriend to the point of getting engaged (and then ditches him), and allegedly has done the same thing with the actual mole working for the main family. The definition of manipulate, manwhore, manslaughter. Vegas has a whole ass Patrick Bateman-style murder coat for torture. Methods of torture used: extracting a man's Cochlear, electrocuting a man's balls, forcefeeding by shoving said man's head into slop, whipping him with his own leather belt, setting a fake escape trap only to chase the hostage down and tase him. Whenever he makes deals he'll slip his hand into the other person's with a firm grip before they've consciously expressed a choice (so it always goes in his favor). He shields himself with other's bodies during shootouts, letting several people die for his sake. He's into BDSM (this isn't one of the bad things, but hoo boy people will act like it is). Listen, he's a piece of work. He cries because his pet hedgehog dies. He falls for his hostage, fucks him, and then continues to be shitty so the guy knocks him out to escape. He gets pathetic about it. He confesses his love and kisses him in a parking garage full of dead bodies in the middle of a mafia coup that he is leading. He's absolutely reprehensible and is treated as the main villain of the show for several reasons. Except I love him and his insanity. He gets a lot of shit that he doesn't deserve (both in canon and in the fandom). Not that I wanna fix him, that wouldn't be fun! Vegas and his partner deserve to serve cunt, be disgustingly in love, and murder to their hearts desires because I said so.

CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON

This is based on vibes and general like…hesitancy in others to agree that Milverton is worth simping over. He's the true evil foil to a necessary evil protag. He is always on a power trip he finds himself smart but can't pivot when things go off script, he's the king of blackmail because he isn't trying to get the money he's trying to make the person come to ruin and really wants to watch. His goon pissed on what they thought was Sherlock Holmes' Stradivarius, simply to humiliate him. He's a wet rat, sexy as hell, and entertaining af.

Look, the man is pure evil, he blackmails people not for the profit of taking the ransoms but to watch them frantically scramble to gather the ransom and then watch the light die in their eyes as he brings their worst nightmares to life before them. He ordered the death of a disabled child (and i’m still mad about it). He made his boyfriend destroy a violin (as far as he knew, a very expensive violin at that) by pissing on it. He would kick a puppy. But he’s also dramatic and fun about his pure evil, and I’m attached. He tries to make clowns out of my favourite couple, and gets called the whole circus for it. It’s funny. Also, his depiction in the musicals (specifically the fourth musical) dials this drama up to 11, while also giving him a very cute relationship with Ruskin. He’s the literal worst, but he’s fun about it, so it’s all totally okay.

He blackmails people for fun. He isn't after their money, hes already rich, but still he asks amounts of money that are over the limit for the people he blackmails. His greatest joy is to see good people blackmailed into doing bad things.

[innytoes]

"I'm a nice person but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.” Feels like a very Flynn to say.

Julie never expected Flynn to get into teaching. Honestly, they'd always dreamed of being on stage together, touring as Double Trouble. Except their styles of writing clashed so much it never really worked out, and then Julie got a ghost band turned human band turned international sensation. So yeah, while Flynn did make some cool remixes for the bonus track of their album, she decided her future lied elsewhere.

"It's basically the same thing," she'd joked once when they'd been hanging out in Julie's mom's studio, like the Old Days, even though that couch definitely wasn't as kind on 30-something's backs. "You have an audience. I have an audience. But if mine gets lippy, I can send them to time out."

Luke's head had popped up from his song book, but Julie pointed a warning finger at him. "No."

"Aw."

"Besides, I've realised I can achieve my ultimate childhood dream," Flynn had said.

"Become queen of the moon?" Julie asked.

"My other childhood dream: become Ms Frizzle."

And she had. Flynn had awesome, over the top outfits for just about every subject she taught, and Julie loved every selfie she sent while they were on tour. The guys had even turned it into a guessing game, trying to figure out what today's lesson was about.

Between the amazing fashion and the fact that she knew Actual Rock Star Julie Molina, Flynn was clearly the coolest teacher in school. Especially when she got Julie and The Phantoms to play at the school Christmas Charity Drive. The kids loved it. The band loved it. The teachers loved it.

The problem were the parents. Or, certain types of parents.

Julie had lost Alex to a bunch of earnest middle schoolers, Reggie to the Bake Sale, and Luke to a bunch of children who thought an electric guitar was the coolest thing. She'd been making small-talk with the lovely kindergarten teacher when Flynn flopped against the stage beside her, shoving an entire cupcake into her mouth in one go, handing the other one to Julie.

The kindergarten teacher gave them a smile, obviously used to Flynn's antics, and wandered off.

"You okay?" she said as Flynn thankfully at least chewed instead of just washing the whole thing down with soda like some kind of carbonated drink loving cobra. She patiently waited for Flynn to be finished, wincing at the sound nearby of Luke letting one of the kids try out what playing with an amp was like.

"I'm a nice person," Flynn said. "But I'm about to start throwing rocks at people."

"That bad?"

"One of the PTA moms asked me why I couldn't get Trevor Wilson instead," Flynn said. "And then tried to get me to talk to you about playing her kid's birthday party."

"Wow," Julie said.

"Fuck Debra McManning."

That name sounded vaguely familiar. The way it rolled off Flynn's tongue, she was pretty sure she cursed that woman's name a lot. "Wait, wasn't that the lady who complained you put her son in time out because he bit like three kids?"

"Yes," Flynn said, smiling a smile with gritted teeth. "And I'm not allowed to leave this room until we get the amount we need for the fundraiser, and if she talks to me again I am throwing hands. Or rocks. Or knives."

Julie knew that look. It happened right before Flynn did something they usually both regretted (because of course Julie wouldn't let her do the stupid thing alone.)

"Band huddle!" she called, decisively. Three heads popped up from various places in the gym, and her boys made their way to her.

"What's up, boss?" Luke asked, only pouting a little at being pulled away from his favourite thing: talking to people about music who were just as feral as he was. In this case, eight-year-olds who loved loud noises.

"We need to donate..."

"Five hundred twenty-seven dollars," Flynn said.

"Five hundred twenty-seven dollars," Julie repeated. "So Flynn doesn't commit manslaughter."

"Oh it won't be manslaughter," Flynn said. "It will definitely be premeditated."

"I need to taste at least five more things from the bake sale," Reggie said. "But I can start tipping well."

"Get me one of those giant cookies," Luke said, and Reggie shot him a thumbs up.

"There's an art auction in the corner, some kid drew a raccoon furry on a skateboard," Alex said. "I'm getting it for Willie. Think two hundred dollars will help me win it?"

"I'm going to get my nails painted at the booth over there," Julie said. "I'm sure their artistic vision will be worth more than they're asking."

They all looked at Luke expectantly, and he blinked, before grabbing the dinosaur wallet from the chain on his pants and giving Flynn a hundred dollars.

"Or that," Alex sighed.

"Or that," Flynn agreed. "Thank you."

"Of course," Julie said, giving her a hug. "You can't be Ms Frizzle if you're in jail."

[yakool-foolio]

Perhaps 'Andrew' was used as an arrow for a crossbow, the body of which was found earlier in our investigation. Crossbows are badass weapons, so TGAA2 is really hittin' the mark for most rad murder weapons in the whole series, first being the poison-filled pen.

Harebrayne we're trying to save your life, your hypothesis isn't worth it! He's really ride or die on this, we gotta smack some sense into him. Juror Numero Quatro you're not helping. Van Zieks you're not helping either.

So apparently this cage containing Asman was repurposed into a homing missile. Accidentally or intentionally is up for discussion. RIP to whoever happened to be on that balloon at such an unfortunate time; think we might've found someone who beats out Maggey's bad luck.

...Disregard that, Maggey still reigns as most unfortunate. Turns out this whole science experiment was a deadly magician trick! I wouldn't be surprised if Harebrayne actually is deemed the culprit because of all the safety precautions he definitely did not implement. As my friend Mass put it: "[Harebrayne] didn't commit murder, but he sure did commit manslaughter!"

SUSATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I THOUGHT YOU WERE A FLASHBACK FOR A SECOND BUT NO YOU'RE REAL AND HERE SOMEWAY SOMEHOW AND BOY ARE WE GLAD TO HAVE YOU BACK! SHE SHALL BE THE ONE TO SMACK SENSE INTO EVERYONE JUST AS I PRESCRIBED!

Enoch Drebber, hm? Well, at least it's not mystery man cause I got worried and would've been sad if he was the mastermind behind this whole thing when he's only just begun to show his presence, but he definitely doesn't strike me as an engineer heh. I wouldn't put it past him hitting a clean shot with a crossbow, though.

(To Whom It May Concern - @raymondshields)

[padfootagain]

Because We Are Made of Dreams (III)

Chapter 3 : Confessions

Hi everyone! Here I come with a new chapter for this fic! Still setting up stuff, we learn a few new things about my OC, Sirius is growing increasingly fond of her…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairings: Sirius Black x Original Female Character + Jily

Warnings for this chapter: None! Just cute and… nothing particular, really, just setting things into motion.

Warnings for the series: graphic depictions of violence and torture, graphic depiction and mentions of child abuse, mature themes.

Summary: The Marauders come back to Hogwarts to begin their sixth year there, and many things will change for them during these coming months. Outside the safety of their school, the world is growing darker. Inside the Castle, they'll find both new friends and enemies.

Word Count: 5896

Clara was about to commit a murder.

Never before had she thought about ending someone else’s life, but the more time ticked by, the more appealing this idea became.

She checked the time once more, and took her final decision: Lily was a dead woman.

Her and Liam had been together for a mere week, and Clara already wanted to commit manslaughter. But maybe, instead of killing her friend she could kill the boyfriend instead. Yes, that sounded much better to cut his tanned throat… how could she get away with it though?

She heaved a sigh, and rested her forehead on the table. The library was quiet, despite the early hour of the afternoon. There were quite many students around her, studying hard, even if the year was merely beginning. Any other day, Clara would have found the atmosphere soothing, surrounded by books and quiet whispers. But she was too annoyed for that.

In over five years of friendship, Clara had never seen Lily being late. Never. But all of a sudden, she had a boyfriend, and then Clara was forgotten. She closed her eyes, letting out another annoyed sigh.

How typical…

"Usually, libraries are for reading or studying, not napping. You know that, don't you?"

Clara jumped at the sound of a voice right by her table. She looked up to discover Sirius, a smile full of mischief painted on his handsome features.

"I wasn't sleeping, I was waiting," she answered, smiling back, although she couldn’t hide her irritation.

"Waiting? For what?"

"For whom. Lily."

Sirius nodded, clearly amused by now.

"Ah, I see! Now that she’s in a happy relationship with Super-Tan, she leaves you behind, right?"

Clara struggled to laugh discreetly.

"I'm definitely stealing this nickname from you. It fits Liam quite well.”

"Feel free to use it. This guy’s most definitely using some kind of spell to get that tan all year-round.”

“I’m suspecting he’s using some Muggle beauty products, actually.”

“Really? Even better!”

They both laughed, although they remained quiet. In the shy whispers that shook the library, even a breathy laughter was too loud.

“Why did the two of you had to meet here?” Sirius asked her, still standing by her table, pushing a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

"Work on the Transfiguration essay,” she answered with a wince.

"Maybe I can help you with that," Sirius offered with a happy smile, and Clara was quite surprised that he would make her such an offer. He even looked excited about it, that was definitely unexpected…

"Don't worry about me, she'll come, eventually," the girl reassured him. “I don’t want to bother you.”

Sirius merely shrugged.

"It's okay. I'm quite good at Transfiguration. And it wouldn’t bother me at all."

Before she could answer, he was taking the sit opposite her, opening his bag and taking out a quill, a piece of parchment and his Transfiguration textbook.

"It's really nice of you," she thanked him.

He shrugged again, starting to write.

"I'll have to do it sooner or later anyway," he answered nonchalantly.

"Where are the boys?" she asked him as she opened her own book and searched for the right chapter. “Aren’t you expected somewhere?”

"Peter is snoring in the dorms. James is with Remus."

"Is Remus okay?"

He took a careful glance at her before focusing on his book again. But she seemed genuinely worried now. Still, he was cautious with his choice of words when he spoke again.

"Sure. Why wouldn't he be?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Merlin! We all already know, Black!"

He stared intensely at her, and she felt like his grey eyes could pierce right through her.

"What do you think you know exactly?"

"I can read a moon chart. We figured it out almost two years ago."

He propped up an eyebrow, but in a flash his expression had changed and he looked preoccupied, his brow furrowed.

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Of course not. I'm not stupid."

"Who else knows?"

"Only the five of us."

"Merlin! And you're okay with it?"

Clara narrowed her eyes at him, looking almost offended.

"Remus is probably the sweetest guy in this school, Black. Of course, I don't care. None of us cares. As long as he doesn't try to devour us in our sleep, all is fine."

Sirius looked very surprised, but not that worried anymore.

"So, is he okay? The full moon was yesterday, wasn't it?" Clara asked again.

Sirius nodded, heaving a sigh, and he seemed much more worried now, tired as well, as if he had stopped hiding a burden he had to carry.

"It was a rough one, that's why he missed class this morning."

"Poor Remus. Of all people, why did it have to be him? He's so kind."

She heavily sighed, before shaking herself. Sirius kept staring at her, thinking hard, studying her and weighing the risks that her knowing his friend’s secret involved. But then again, if she had known for two years and said nothing, he reckoned that she wasn’t that dangerous, after all.

There was a ray of sunshine coming in from the nearby window falling right onto their table. It shone upon Sirius’s features, photons caught in his dark hair. He had dark bags under his eyes though, a five-hour shadow on his jaw and his eyes were reddened by his lack of sleep. Clara seemed to finally notice how tired he looked.

"You don't seem to have slept a lot yourself," she pointed out.

He smiled mischievously again.

"You don't want to hear about that, Clearwater."

She couldn't refrain a disgusted look, before hiding her reaction behind her book, and Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"What did I say?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Come on. What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

Sirius stayed silent for a while, still staring at her, looking for a reason behind her strange behaviour. He rolled his eyes when he guessed.

"I didn't spend my night shagging anyone if that’s what you've understood."

She looked at him over her book.

"Really?"

"Really."

"It's not like I care, really," she justified herself, clearly embarrassed, her cheeks on fire, "it's just that I find the idea of you shagging someone in the Castle, where I could actually go, really disgusting. One thing is for sure, I could never enter a classroom again if I knew you were spending your nights there with some girl or boy..."

Sirius laughed hard, drawing scowls towards them from several tables. She shushed him, giggling herself.

"Well, you can go to McGonagall's class tomorrow safely," he teased.

"If I finish this essay that is."

"Of course," he chuckled again.

"So, how do you do this spell?"

She showed him a complicated incantation used to turn a howl into a galleon. The sun was hitting the old page, the stained glass on the upper part of the window colouring the parchment in blue and pink.

"This one is not the best to make this transfiguration actually," Sirius answered with a slight frown as he read through the page.

He took her book and looked for the right page, focused and thus paying no attention to his surroundings. Meanwhile, Clara was patiently waiting, but got distracted by the sound of giggles coming from the other side of the shelves set behind her.

"So, are you going to come see the try-outs?" asked one of the girls.

"Of course! The Gryffindor boys are so gorgeous!"

Clara rolled her eyes, now fully focused on the conversation while Sirius struggled with the pages.

"Their captain is so hot!" said another.

"Well, I'll go for Black personally, he's perfect..."

Clara rolled her eyes again, annoyed, and Sirius chose this very moment to look up at her, having finally managed to find the right spell. He frowned hard. She seemed… annoyed…

"Sorry if I'm so boring," he said, quite hurt.

"Sorry, what?" Clara asked, focusing on him again.

"I said: sorry if I'm so boring. You can tell me if you don't want me to stay."

"What?! That's..."

She finally understood.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry. You're not annoying at all. It's the group of girls behind us. They're talking about the Quidditch try-outs. Listen."

They both focused on the girls' conversation.

"Dearborn is handsome too."

"You can't compare him to Black, I mean... This man, is so bloody gorgeous!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh and biting on his lower lip in the process.

"You're right, I'll go for Black, one hundred percent."

"Yeah, but you know how he is with girls..."

"Who cares, really! If I could be thrown in a cupboard with him, sign me up, at any cost."

"She's right, you're mad!"

"I think I still prefer Dearborn."

"Bullshit," Sirius suddenly let out.

He and Clara looked at each other, before bursting into laughter, choking as they struggled to remain quiet.

"Do you think they know you're here?" Clara asked him as she was finally able to breathe again.

He shook his head.

"I don't think so. Are they annoying you?"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not one of your groupies. And I think they're kind of idiots, really."

He grinned at her, his eyes full of mischief.

"All right then, give me a sec!"

Before she could say anything, Sirius had stood up and was heading towards the girls behind Clara. Her eyes wide, the Gryffindor turned on her chair and managed to glimpse at two of the girls, visible between the rows of books. One was from Ravenclaw, the other from Gryffindor, they seemed to be in their fifth year. Sirius approached their table and the girls went completely still as they recognised him. Wearing his most seductive smile, the boy leaned casually against the shelf.

"Hey, girls! Sorry to interrupt, but I'm trying to study right on the other side of this shelf with a friend, and you're talking too loudly for her, she can't focus. Could you lower the volume a bit, please?"

His voice was low and sweet, and the girls literally melted upon their chairs.

"Of course, we're sorry," answered the Gryffindor, barely breathing, her eyes wide.

"No problem, bye!"

"Bye!"

Clara was biting her fist hard to stop herself from laughing too loudly. The second Sirius sat down and caught her amused eyes, he was gone for. They were laughing so much for a while that they couldn't look at each other, or they would burst into laughter again. It lasted long minutes, and several students looked at them with disapproving smiles as they passed by their table.

"You're crazy!" Clara admonished him, wiping the tears from her face.

"That was so funny!" he replied, drying his cheeks with his sleeves too. "Have you seen their faces?!"

They were gone laughing again for a while, holding their painful sides, choking as they tried to be as silent as possible.

Clara’s stomach was so painful… she reckoned she hadn’t laughed that much in months…

"The Transfiguration essay," she finally managed to articulate, clearing her throat, but averting her eyes far away from Sirius, knowing that the mere sight of him would make her explode again.

"Right."

Sirius cleared his throat too, and finally helped her with the spell.

They worked quite quickly together, and less than an hour later, they had both finished their essay. It was still sunny outside when they closed their books and put away their homework, although the sky was turning from bright blue to pale gold.

"Do you have anything else to work on?" Sirius asked her.

"I'm done for tonight,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Thank you for your help! You really are quite good at Transfiguration."

Sirius smirked, and there was something mischievous in his eyes too when he held her stare, but she didn’t get what it meant, and he didn’t say a word.

"You're welcome. It was quite fun!"

They walked out of the library together, joking and laughing and smiling. And it felt nice, exciting.

The more time he spent with her, the more Sirius enjoyed Clara’s company.

"Where are you going now?" she asked once they were in the corridor, leaving whispering behind and speaking with her usual tone again. “To get yourself in trouble, I bet!”

"No, not today,” he chuckled. “I’ll go check on Remus, he must be back in the dorm by now. You?"

"I'll take a walk, I think. It’s not that late, and the weather is nice. Better enjoy it while it lasts. Autumn in Scotland is always a mess!"

Sirius seemed to think for a moment, eyes set onto hers. He tilted his head to the side a little, weighing options, before he would offer her a bright smile.

"Would you mind if I came with you? You’re right, it’s nice outside, I’d love to take a walk too."

She grinned at him.

"No, of course not! Come on! I know just the place!"

They headed towards the grounds, remaining silent until they reached the shores of the lake. Indeed, the sun was still warm enough to make their walk pleasant, and only a shy breeze disturbed the dark waters before them. In the distance, Hagrid’s hut was puffing a white smoke by its chimney. It was slow, leisurely, soothing… With no more sounds than the regular movement of water and wind passing through tall branches.

They sat against a tall oak and enjoyed the sight of the sinking sun setting the sky on fire and lighting up the water with golden shades. Clara took out a notebook and some pencils from her bag, and she started to draw, humming softly to herself.

"I didn't know you liked drawing," Sirius finally said, a small smile playing on his lips that was, perhaps, a little too fond.

"I love drawing, I spend much of my free time surrounded with pencils and paper,” she answered with a chuckle. “Does that bother you if I…”

“No, no! On the contrary, that’s nice! I have no talent whatsoever for it.”

“What about you, then? Any hobby? Besides preparing pranks, I mean…”

He smiled mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows to make her laugh, and he easily succeeded. He was more serious when he answered her question, though.

"Quidditch."

She shook her head, amused.

"I should have known."

"You don't like Quidditch yourself?"

"I do like Quidditch actually. I think I'll come to the try-outs this year."

Sirius propped up an eyebrow.

"Really? Which position?"

"Beater."

Sirius choked, trying to hold back a laugh.

"I can fly, you know?" she replied, failing to hide the hurt expression that came to her face.

"I don’t doubt that but… Are you sure you've got enough strength to be a Beater? You should rather try for Chaser. I bet you're fast."

But Clara shook her head.

"No, I want to play Beater."

"Sure?"

"Yep."

"Well then, we'll see how you do on Saturday, I guess."

"Get ready to be surprised."

"Something tells me that I will be!"

They smiled at each other, and Clara focused on her drawing again. Silence settled around them, but it was comfortable and warm, and none of them minded. They merely enjoyed each other’s company while the sun made the sky redden.

After a while, Clara finally spoke again, her voice quite shy.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I... I know it's probably none of my business, but... Why was your brother so cold with you the other day?"

Sirius shifted, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business," she added quickly as she was noticing his reaction. "Never mind."

He looked at her for a while, trying to decide if he should answer or not. A part of him was choosing the safest option, as always, and ordering him to keep his mouth shut. But another seemed willing to talk, and it was strange, unfamiliar. They didn’t know each other that much, even if they got along. And yet, there was this feeling in his chest, this aura about her… And Sirius wanted to tell her. For once, he did want to open his mouth, and let it all out.

Would she give him that look of pity he often received when he opened up, though? He would hate that. He would hate it if she gave him this look…

But then again, she was blushing now, clearly looking for something to say that would make him feel more comfortable again, and that was incredibly nice of her. He wasn’t used to that. To people being delicate with him and his feelings. It was nice though, it made him answer without really being willing to do so.

"It's quite complicated, with my family."

"Why?" she asked, looking up at him again.

"Many reasons."

She took just a quick glimpse at his expression, at the sudden clenching of his jaw, and the sadness that dulled the grey in his eyes. She nodded, offering him a kind smile.

"You don't have to answer, if you don't want to talk about it,” she reassured him. “I didn't know it was complicated for you to talk about your family. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. It’s none of my business."

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, resting his forearms on his knees and holding his left wrist with his right hand. He lost his gaze on the lake, alit with burning lights.

Damn, that was exactly the right thing to say. And now, he wanted to say it all out loud…

He took a deep breath before diving though. The words were as heavy as lead on his tongue, but it felt good to let them out all the same. He hadn’t talked about all this to anyone but the boys.

"The thing is, I'm not part of the family anymore."

"What do you mean?" Clara asked with a frown, putting down her paper and pencils on the grass, right next to her bag, giving Sirius her full attention.

"I ran away last summer."

She stared at him, her eyes wide.

"You ran away? But... Why? Where did you go?"

"I went to the Potters'. They've always treated me like a son. They took me in without a hesitation, gave me a home..."

"Why did you run away?"

His throat tightened; he chose his words carefully. Because he didn’t want her to run away. Because it was painful, still, to talk about all this.

"I don't share my family's point of view upon many subjects and… one night I had enough. So, I took my things, and walked out."

"You ran away because you disagreed with your family? It must have been about quite important subjects..."

He shifted again. The conversation was heading in a direction he clearly didn't like, but it was too late to go back now. She patiently waited for him to speak again, and he was thankfully for it.

"They're all in the pure-blood mania, you know?” he answered in a breathy tone, looking at her once more. “And I'm not. I don't care that people are muggleborns or half-bloods, or muggles even. They're still people, end of story. I didn't fit in the familial mantra, evidently."

"I see," she answered.

He looked at the lake once more, but Clara guessed that he wasn't seeing it anymore. It was too hard to look into her green eyes though. They were too warm, too welcoming, too reassuring… he wasn’t used to that. It was still a struggle to him, to accept to be looked upon with kindness.

He cleared his throat before speaking once more. And maybe his confession went too far, but he didn’t really mind. That ought to mean something, right?

"I don't want the life they have designed for me," he continued, his gaze still lost upon the burning lake. "I don't want to get married with a cousin to have a pure-blood marriage. I don't want to marry someone because a bunch of pure-blood maniacs have decided that I should, even if I will never love her. I don't believe in the pure-blood supremacy in any way, and I have never accepted to keep my mouth shut about it in front of them all. I've never been the perfect soldier, quite the contrary actually. I'm a stranger to them, really… and my brother is the perfect son next to me. He entered Slytherin like everyone has done in my family since the school opened, and I was sorted into Gryffindor. He bends to all their manners and masks, and I always blow up sooner or later. He has accepted his arranged marriage, and shares the family idea that pure-bloods are worth more than other people; and I rejected the girl they had chosen for me and I'm friends with muggleborns, half-bloods and pure-bloods alike. We're quite different my brother and I, and I think he took the fact that I ran away personally, as if I was leaving him, and not my parents. And then again… I’ve spent many years protecting him from our parents. Now that I’m gone, it must be harder for him. So, you can see why it is quite tensed between us."

He smiled sadly, a pain badly hidden on his features. Meanwhile, Clara was speechless. What could she answer? She had always thought he was a prat and an idiot. She knew he was a pure-blood, and though she had never cared about it, she had always thought he must have been something of a spoiled child, really, with too much money and gifts and worship from his parents to be a good person in the end. But she had been wrong all along. He had evidently suffered a lot, and she could guess, even if he didn’t say it out loud, that he hadn’t been truly loved in his family. She didn’t know to which extent though. She couldn’t have imagined what he had gone through. Still, tears formed on the corners of her eyes.

"I didn't know..."

Her words stayed stuck in her throat. He shook himself, finally setting his eyes away from the burning water, to focus on her again.

"Oh, never mind that, I'm fine,” he offered her a reassuring smile. “Let's change the subject, okay? How is your drawing going on?"

She chuckled, shaking her head, and picked up her notebook once more. She had hardly drawn anything.

"I'm not very productive, actually."

He let out a laugh, that sounded much like a bark, while she picked up a pencil again and drew a colourful line across the white paper.

"I'm talking too much clearly, you can't focus!"

"It's okay, I like talking with you."

He kept on looking at her as she was drawing again.

"You're not as stupid and horrible as I thought you were," she added, narrowing her eyes as she was focusing on her page. "Or maybe you grew up a bit, which helped."

He laughed again.

"I may have grown up, that's true. If it means anything to you, you're not as boring and uptight as I thought you were."

She laughed too.

"Thanks, that's quite nice. But I've always been kind of the reckless one of the girls, you don't have the excuse of any changes on my part for not having noticed it before."

"But I was stupid and horrible before, remember?"

"True!"

She laughed again, and he found her laugh quite beautiful indeed... infectious… it was enough to make him smile.

"I'd better go check on Remus,” he finally added with a sigh. “I was supposed to replace James more than an hour ago, he's going to kill me."

He got up, and threw his bag upon his shoulder.

"I'd love to see this drawing of yours when you're finished, if you don't mind," Sirius added before he would leave.

She looked up at him and grinned.

"Sure, I'll show you."

"Great. See you later, Clearwater."

He started to walk away, but she called him back.

"What if we ate together tonight, Sirius?”

He smiled at the use of his first name. He liked it, the way she said it, it sounded softer when she was the one speaking it out loud.

He turned back towards her, shooting her a wink and a crooked smile, while still walking backwards towards the Castle.

“Sure, that would be nice! See you tonight, Clara!”

He turned towards the Castle again, grinning, heading for the dormitory where James was undoubtedly waiting for him with a death sentence.

Meanwhile, Clara was smiling as she kept on drawing. She quite enjoyed the way he said her name…

"Padfoot, you were supposed to come back more than an hour ago! A bloody, fucking hour ago!"

And here was the expected death sentence. Merlin...

Sirius rolled his eyes, throwing his bag by his bed.

"Where were you?" asked Peter, looking up from the magazine he was reading.

"With Clara," Sirius answered casually. "We were working on the Transfiguration essay.”

Sirius sat on his bed and took off his shoes, ignoring Remus’s raised eyebrow and James’s glare. He untied his tie too and threw it in his trunk.

“You were studying? With Clara? Nothing in this makes any sense…” Remus mumbled, letting his head fall back onto his pillow, exhausted.

“Very funny,” Sirius answered wryly. “Next time you need help in Charms, go fuck yourself.”

“How come you were with Clara?” Peter asked, disregarding his magazine completely now.

“I bumped into her while she was waiting for Lily in the Library. But Lily didn’t show, so I helped her instead. And I also completed my own essay!”

“I’ve been waiting for you for an hour,” James replied through gritted teeth, throwing his pillow at his friend, still mad. “Next time, I’ll turn you into a slug and leave you outside to be eaten by some bird…”

“Thanks, Prongs. I love you too.”

Sirius let himself fall back on his bed before turning towards Remus again.

"By the way, I now have some information that will interest you, Moony. So, you'd better be nice to me if you want me to tell you what I've just learned."

Remus was lying on his bed, his blanket up to his chin, still shaking with fever. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, annoyed.

"Padfoot, I'm really not in the mood for any kind of joke or gossips right now. I'm still terribly sick from last night, in case you hadn't noticed."

But Sirius merely smiled.

"Did you know that they know?"

Remus slowly averted his eyes on Sirius’s, and they grew round as he read in his friend’s grey stare that he had perfectly understood what he meant… He suddenly was even paler than before.

"What do you mean?" the boy asked slowly, needing confirmation anyway.

Meanwhile, James and Peter exchanged a worried glance, standing up from their own beds to get closer to their friends. James leaned against Sirius’s bedframe while Peter took a seat on the edge of Remus’s mattress.

"The girls know you're a werewolf, Clara asked me how you were feeling,” Sirius answered matter-of-factly. “They guessed over two years ago, apparently."

"Shit!"

Remus tightly closed his eyes, while the two other Marauders seemed more than worried now.

"But they’ve never talked about it!" said James, his brow furrowed.

"Nope, clearly they don't care,” Sirius reassured them, lifting his arms to rest his hands behind his head, before he would turn to Remus again. “When I asked Clara what they thought about it, she answered that you, my friend, were the sweetest guy in this school, and that as long as you were not attacking them at night, they didn't give a damn."

The boys looked at each other, before bursting into laughter, although not all traces of worry were gone from their features just yet.

"Merlin! I had no idea they knew," said Remus, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, they do."

The four friends kept on chatting for a while, until it was time for dinner, as Peter’s loud stomach reminded the group.

Sirius sighed, exhausted, and put on his shoes again. James helped Remus to get out of bed.

"Are you sure you don't want us to get you something?" asked Peter.

"No, I'm fine," answered Remus, standing straighter despite his fatigue and painful muscles. "And I reckon I should have a conversation with the girls."

They headed together for the Great Hall, although they took their time to walk there, unwilling to let Remus hurry in his tired state. Many students were already eating, but they did find some empty spots around the Gryffindor table next to Lily, Marlene, Dorcas and Alice. The Hall was busy and loud, the magical sky above their hands matching the starry night outside.

The girls were discussing Lily's date with Liam that had occurred earlier that evening when the Marauders joined them.

"He's such a sweetheart," sighed Marlene dreamily.

"He is," confirmed Lily.

James wisely stopped listening, but the conversation was over anyway, and so he didn't have to suffer more descriptions of Lily's perfect date with Super-Tan.

"Where is Clara?" asked Remus.

He barely touched any of his food, and the mere sight of meat was making him feel nauseous, but he needed to make sure the girls would not say anything to anyone about his secret.

"No idea," answered Alice with a shrug, taking a bite of her potato.

"She must still be at the Lake," answered Sirius, his mouth full with roasted chicken.

Lily furrowed her brow.

"How would you know?"

"I saw her in the library, where she was waiting for you to make her Transfiguration essay."

Lily's eyes grew wide.

"It was tonight?"

"I'm afraid it was," Sirius nodded with an amused smile.

"Oh, no! I totally forgot, I was sure it was tomorrow!"

She buried her head in her hands and closed her eyes.

"I suck as a friend."

"You just have a boyfriend, Lils, it's normal."

The girl jumped while Clara was laughing at her, standing right behind her friend. She smiled at Lily, taking the seat next to her, facing Sirius.

"Oh God, Clara, I'm so sorry!" the redhead apologized again.

"Don't be, it's okay. I got help anyway."

She pointed at Sirius, whom answered with a smile, trying to swallow his mouthful of bread. Lily didn’t seem fully convinced, but she smiled anyway and was about to resume her dinner when Remus cleared his throat. All turned to him. He seemed… uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Nervous, even.

"Girls, Sirius told me you... knew. About me... and… my secret."

The four girls looked at each other at first, but they quickly aimed accusatory glares towards Clara.

"What?" the girl asked innocently.

"You told him we knew?" asked Marlene in disbelief.

"I… not exactly… I told Sirius. Who apparently told Remus…"

"Why?" asked Lily.

"Why not?"

"Shit, Clara," replied Alice, shaking her head.

"What?! We don't even care."

"He shouldn't have learned we knew that way," explained Dorcas.

"Oh, come on, you're making a scene out of nothing right now, really."

"No, we're not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Clara, we should have told him directly!"

"Lils, it doesn't matter really."

Clara turned her attention back to Remus, who’s wide eyes revealed how lost he was. He wasn’t sure if he ought to laugh or be terrified by the whole thing…

"We guessed two years ago,” Clara explained. “We don't care, and won't say anything to anyone. You don't have to worry about that."

"You're sure it's okay?" asked Remus, surprised.

"Of course, it's fine Remus," Lily reassured him, smiling kindly. "We don't care."

Remus sighed heavily, clearly relieved, his tensed shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Right then, I guess it's alright as long as you don't say anything to anyone."

"We won't, don't worry," Alice reassured him too.

"But why didn't you tell me anything?"

"We figured out that it was best if it came from you," explained Lily. "But as Clara can't keep her mouth shut..."

"I'm the one who should be angry tonight, not you Lils," Clara reminded her friend, adding some dramatic tone to her voice that made the Marauders chuckle. "I'm the one who was left abandoned in the library, when her best friend was snogging a boy in a dark corner."

Lily blushed hard and bent her head above her plate.

"We didn't snog."

Clara rolled her eyes, but didn't add anything. Facing her, Sirius was fighting his urge to let out a proper laugh. He felt like it was time to change the subject, so he cleared his throat and turned towards James.

"By the way, Clara wants to go to the try-outs on Saturday."

"Really?" asked James, suddenly terribly interested in the conversation.

"Yep! I'm finally coming this year. Marlene too, by the way."

"No, I'm not," replied Marlene, sending a look full of warning to Clara.

"Yes, you are," Lily fought back. "You love Quidditch, Marls! And as Clara is doing it, you should do it too."

“Marls, that would be awesome!” Dorcas nodded, overexcited. “We would play together! That would be amazing! I would finally stop being the only girl on the team… you’ve got to come to the try-outs!”

"Of course, you should!" James encouraged her.

Sirius nodded enthusiastically too.

"Which position will you try? Chaser I guess," added James.

"Marlene yes. I'm trying for Beater," answered Clara.

James propped up an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you're strong enough to be a Beater?" asked Peter.

Clara rolled her eyes.

"I'm not that fragile, I can fly and hit a Bludger with a bat. Yes, I'm strong enough, and yes, I'm sure I want to try for the position of Beater."

James shrugged.

"We'll see how you do on Saturday then."

"We'll see indeed."

It was a little strange still to chat like this with the Marauders, to laugh together and have full conversations with the whole group; strange, but nice all the same. That evening, once again, neither James nor Lily got upset, they even laughed together a couple of times.

After their dinner, they walked back to the Tower together, still chatting. As they entered the Common Room, about to break their large group and head for their dorms, Clara held Sirius back for a second.

"You said you wanted to see my drawing when it was done. Here you go!"

She took a piece of paper out of her bag and handed it to him. He unfolded it, and his mouth fell open as he was looking at a moving drawing of the Lake. A gentle breeze was making the trees sway, the lake and the sky were on fire and burning clouds were drifting slowly across the bright sky. It was beautiful.

"Merlin, Clara! You're really good at this!"

"You think so?" she asked shyly.

"Of course! It's amazing!"

She grinned, and shook her head as he was handing it back to her.

"You can keep it."

"You're sure?"

"Of course, I have hundreds of drawings of the Lake. Keep this one."

"Thank you. Good night, Clara."

"Good night, Sirius!"

They both headed to their dormitories, and Sirius put safely her drawing in his Transfiguration textbook. He was exhausted, and closed his curtains to sleep early, a grin on his face as he peacefully drifted away.

*****************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees

[nineratsinatrenchcoat]

JWCC S5:E3 Thoughts

It’s a good thing my roommate’s out for the night because I’m stimming and happy squeaking like crazy. God I love this show!

Every time I see Brooklynn and Ben alone on screen I start freaking out about them actually having a solo interaction… but then someone else comes in at the last second. I’m really gonna have to invent their dynamic from scratch

They’re holding a fucking intervention omg

Yaz steering Darius and Ben away is the funniest fucking thing lmaooo. Where she come from

Ah damn here comes the Hetero Drama. Wait no it’s about proper communication. Damn I’m getting my assumptions schooled

Stop existing kash oh my god

Kanji’s in his Emo Arc. For good reason, actually. Poor boy.

I’ve got my bumpy figurine with me. She will get me through this emotional pain

I’m literally hissing at Daniel. Piece!!! Of!!! Shit!!!

Oh now *kenji’s* holding the intervention. This drama is top fucking tier

No actually this drama is well done. Like the concerns about communication and trust, coupled with daniel’s manipulation, make for a genuine reason to fracture the group’s bond. I like that. The writers are always serving such good characterization.

“Kenji is loyal and that deserves to be rewarded” ewwwwwwwwww

I am cheering on Daniel exclusively because he is so good at tearing kash down

Ok the controlling of Dinos to be personal entertainment is a much better angle than the fights shit. Still don’t like the whole corporate espionage thing in the sheer excess that it exists here, but the Dino plot got better.

Just a note: the hair texture of the loose-haired campers is less frizzy and greasy compared to previous seasons. God I love the little design details in this show

Did… did ben just commit manslaughter? Well, darius joins him there i guess.

Who exactly is on kash’s “get dead” list?

OH MY GOD HES DEAD HES DEAD HOLY SHIT YOU GO GIRLIE DINOSAURS WHO I FORGOT THE NAMES OF 🥰🥰🥰🥰

“We were just doing what was right” darius you killed three people. Like you’re right but also think of the optics buddy boy

They got Nursery’d

Oh ok so todays the day where my heart gets ripped out of my chest huh. Ok

[ayearwithoutwater]

Twenty-six.

Henry, who would later become my fourth boyfriend, was a Tinder match I didn’t remember making.

Funnily enough, he wasn't the first I "forgot." Six years prior, during the heyday of Tinder in 2015 resultant of the then-novelty of dating apps, I "matched" with a boy named Wayne, an artist who was about to graduate from Parsons School of Design at The New School. I could hardly recall swiping right on him, most likely because dating apps are premised upon flash judgments and first impressions, and I gave prospects minutes of consideration before moving onto the next. Regardless, Wayne went on to be my second boyfriend, and being with him inspired such a wellspring of romanticism from me that my personal journals were flooded with sap. So, when I returned to perusing dating apps in 2021, I approached them with less skepticism because I knew that they could work—my own lived experience was but one such example.

The lead up to Spring of 2021 was fraught. I had finally completed my long, protracted separation from Jun, my third boyfriend; the novel coronavirus had joined forces with airtight apartment leases, conspiring to keep us quarantined to our tiny studio so that our landlord could continue to leech passive income from us as the world around us withered. Post-breakup, I had undergone an emotional Odyssey and fallen in and out of an intense crush on Raul, an unfathomably handsome man who worked at Vogue. (I kid not—he was one of the two most beautiful men I have ever dated.) I myself had just returned to New York from Los Angeles in the wake of my cousin's death, a case of vehicular manslaughter that coincided in timing with the nationwide #StopAsianHate protests (one of which I watched, via Instagram, Raul attend). When my birthday in April rolled around, I was desperate for something in my life to change for the better.

As I prepared to turn twenty-eight, I spent that final week of twenty-seven with Stephen, a man I'd loved since the decade prior because he loved me, who'd flown in from London so that I wouldn't feel alone. I implored him to accompany me to museums so that I could search for lifely inspiration amongst art, looking for something, anything, that would flip the proverbial switch in my brain to motivate me, not mentioning that I was trying to mimic Raul and the idea of him in my head. I dragged him to Silver Apricot, a supposedly lauded nouveau Chinese spot in the West Village that I afterwards derided for its extreme mediocrity (it has since shuttered), and I apologized to him for wasting his stomach space (and cash) on such substandard fare.

I felt the specter of thirty creeping upon me. I wanted to be as mature as I thought my age implied, and I wanted to avoid making any more mistakes. All of these men—Wayne, Jun, Raul, Stephen—were either uninterested in or unable to commit to me, and I just wanted someone of my own. I felt suffocated by ennui, frustrated with my ridiculous banking career and a life that was going nowhere. Thus, by the time Henry entered my life one May day, I was perennially in a bad mood.

I was Henry's first date, and vice versa, immediately after we (individually) were vaccinated against COVID-19. I was hesitant to meet new people at the time because, I confess, I naturally have very little faith in strangers and I wasn't willing to risk infection, but vaccination somewhat ameliorated that concern. We spent over a week making the customary introductory small talk over text messages, and our first date came the day after our first meeting, which was (perhaps predictably) a hookup—under such isolating conditions, I think it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that we were both touch-starved. But, he seemed to be a nice enough guy and he was earnest in pursuing me, so I thought that this might have been the universe's way of answering my pleas for something new. I asked if he wanted to get hot pot with me. Of course, he assented.

Henry had a nice smile and always looked put together, and he was agreeable as we worked our way through the hot pot menu together at 99 Favor Taste in Chinatown. Between bites of simmered ingredients and gulps of watermelon juice, I slowly got to know him. Having grown up in Singapore, he was the eldest of three children and had graduated from a Broome County university, after which he'd moved to New York City to be a consultant. He was a diehard fan of Kelly Clarkson, and I would later, after we broke up, listen with great sadness to the lyrics of her song "magic" from chemistry, her post-divorce album, because I knew that he would see our relationship reflected in her lyricism. But, at the time, he seemed to embody the something new for which I was desperately searching because he stood in such stark contrast from Jun, his predecessor.

Whereas Jun was, in my estimation, ever-hobbled by his Peter Pan syndrome, Henry felt like a breath of fresh air. I helped Henry move into his own apartment and he had a six-figure job, meaning that we didn't experience the same income disparity that had so troubled my relationship with Jun. When I vented to Henry my dissatisfaction with my work, he went out of his way to invite me to his networking events around New York and showed me off to all of his friends. Through his caring diligence, he made me feel more special than any other man had done since Alberto a full decade ago. My relationship with Jun had jaded me, but I could feel Henry chiseling away at the stonework.

I think Henry saw potential in me. "You're so smart," he would encourage me, and he believed that I could accomplish anything I wanted because of my fiery willpower. Equally, in him I saw mulish diligence, a trait I envied—he too could achieve any goal through sheer perseverance, something that I lacked. I felt unmoored by executive dysfunction and burnout, and he was steadfast in comparison.

Nevertheless, I dithered. I put off making him an official boyfriend, a label I take very seriously, because I was scared. Things were going well and mostly felt easy, and I was suspicious of our frictionless relationship. Was that how it would always be? He was wonderful, but I felt no passion, and after what had happened with Jun I wanted to be beyond certain. I traveled more with Henry on vacations than any of my priors, we made plans to move in together and plotted out how many kids we wanted to have, and still I vacillated. How was I supposed to know if he was the one? I told him on numerous occasions that it strongly felt like he was the one I was supposed to marry, but I needed more time. I just wanted to keep getting to know him.

A year later, after our breakup, I eventually returned with my tail between my legs to Tinder and Hinge and all the other apps, which persisted in algorithmically redelivering him to me, each time a mini-heart attack and heartbreak all at once. I scrolled through his profile, newly refreshed with handsome photos of him taken by me, and I felt betrayed: by him, by the universe, by Tinder for having gifted him and clawed him back from me. Whereas they were nothing before, his listed interests were now poor imitations of mine, of everything I'd introduced to him and his life. I told my therapist that Henry was a shadow of me, searching for—yet, unwilling to accept—its source, but it was I who was unwilling to accept reality, that he had left my life and returned it to the bog of listlessness in which I was lost before I ever met him. I grieved, and grieved, and grieved. Once more, I felt stuck.

[amazingspake]

I don't really like self-reblogging but I put a lot of work in this, so I settled on sharing some of my thoughts on their relationship while I'm at it

Disclaimer: English is not my first language and I talk a lot

So, consider this: UR-1 happened about 2 years after Hazakura incident. Diego is more or less free from his inner demons, but is lost and has no purpose — there's nothing for him to live for, he doesn't hate Phoenix anymore, he can't really protect Maya from prison, and we all know what happened the first time he tried to protect her, so he really just, well, exists.

And then Blackquill arrives. Sure, he can be a master of psychology and a prosecutor all he wants, but he's only 21, practically a boy still, who has just been through a very traumatic experience and basically signed his own death sentence. And I really like this thing with Simon that, sure, he's selfless and heroic and risked everything for a better cause, but his reasoning is flawed and the decision of going to prison while the real perpetrator is still around isn't the brightest one. If Metis's killer was the same person who sabotaged the HAT-1 launch, how in the world did Simon believe that Athena killed her mother? And moreover, if he wanted to protect her, why didn't he stay at her side? And I'm not talking about Aura, because Aura's feelings clearly weren't the focus here. There was that psychological profile thing also, I suppose — but I don't think he specifically needed to be in prison to preserve it. I may be wrong, as DD's plotline is a freaking jungle of a mess, but still: Simon's decision isn't perfect, and that's what makes him a better character than he already is. I've actually read a post which explored this idea on PW Kinkmeme, but I don't think I'll be able to find it again. Anyway, this view on Blackquill's character made me like him even more: he did what he thought was best at the time, and was committed to it, like a samurai, until the end. And, to quote Mr. Coffee himself: "To err, is human, to forgive, divine. Humans aren't machines, the have souls, feelings. They live, they die, they love, they hate... and, yes, they even make mistakes".

So, back to prison. Blackquill arrives, and Diego sees this scared kid who, however, has the guts to claim he's a murderer and keep a straight face. It takes him one glance at Simon, and his lawyer instincts tell him that he's innocent. So, as he seeks a new purpose in life so much, he decides to look out for Simon, protect him, if you like. He is a defence attorney at heart, he knows better than most how to bluff, how to smile in the hardest of times, and how to keep a facade that won't falter. So he guides him: carefully, without too much pressure, to have Simon figure out himself what is best for him. He guides him and watches as the Twisted Samurai emerges, dark, stoic, and cold, and no longer sees a lost boy, but a man who is fearless and fearsome, and can stand his ground, and Diego feels at least a little bit proud.

And now that I think of it, let's make it a bit more angsty: Diego, because he is Diego, compares Simon to Mia. He sees someone who is reckless in their desire to avenge someone they cared deeply about (Misty/Metis) by putting the true culprit behind bars (Redd White/the Phantom), while trying to keep safe someone else they care about, but ending up abandoning them (Maya/Athena). Diego sees these parallels, and, although he accepted that he shouldn't blame himself for Mia's death, he still may feel responsible that he didn't protected her from this reckless vengeance. So maybe he becomes afraid that Simon will follow the same path, and thus at least tries to warn him and teach him to be more cautious.

And so, as he's out of prison, earlier than Blackquill (I believe his sentence wasn't too long due to it being a manslaughter rather than murder, and due to health complications; and I just want my guy to have a happy ending, whatever, it's not about him today) and maybe he contacts someone he knows, who was an annoying brat in his youth, but grew up to be a respected man, aiming to be the next Chief Prosecutor. Maybe he says to him, hey, frilly boy, do me a favor and look up that case involving Blackquill in detail for me, will you? And Edgeworth, being a smart man, probably already had his doubts regarding that case, so this is just another confirmation and an incentive to dig deeper.

Godot figures out Blackquill

Aa3 & aa5 spoilers, mild blood ig

If you have seen this no you haven't tumblr did some weird shenanigans and separated the images

I'm not rewriting whatever I said before but I adore their weird prison friendship

[aceredshirt13]

All right, boys, which culprits got executed after TGAA?

Asa Shinn - Very well may have been based on crimes alone, but wouldn’t actually have been because of her apparently magical diplomatic immunity. It doesn’t matter, though, because Menimemo’s poison and knife made that a moot point.

Nikolina Pavlova - Absolutely not. Regardless of which country’s jurisdiction she was tried in, she both didn’t intend to kill Kazuma and didn’t even actually kill Kazuma. If he’d died, she would have had assault and involuntary manslaughter at best, which wouldn’t be executable offenses even if he hadn’t pulled up later in Britain with amnesia. I’m glad they at least told her he wasn’t dead. Poor girl…

Magnus McGilded - Stronghart seemed to imply that he would have hanged had Ryunosuke not taken his case, but his acquittal and Ashley’s later paraffin inferno (parafferno?) made that a moot point.

Joan Garrideb - No. Unfortunately, I don’t believe spousal abuse was grounds for hanging, and negligent assault of poor Olive isn’t, either.

Ashley Graydon - You bet your ass he was. I regret to inform my fellow Egg stans that if anyone in this game is getting the noose, it’s this guy. The man has two counts of murder - one premeditated, one not - and while that almost certainly would have been enough on its own already, he also has countless charges of high treason. I would be genuinely shocked if Ashley wasn’t executed. (Unfortunately, the Skulkins don’t seem to be aware of their old friend’s inevitable demise.)

Raiten Menimemo - It doesn't seem like it? My good friend Yello combined all his various crimes together and figured he'd probably be in prison for 20-30 years rather than being hanged. So our boy Raiten's gonna be put away for quite a while, but probably won't be dead.

William Shamspeare - Probably not? While he was by no means a good person (maybe consider just robbing your neighbor next time instead of trying to chase them off with poisonous gas), and did have a prior criminal record of some kind (though I suspect it was probably just theft and honestly? If it was anything like his gas theft? Valid), there was no actual point where he successfully committed a murder - he killed one man on accident, and failed to kill another man on purpose. It’s true, however, that Quinby hates his guts, and has a lot of influence - so if he had a particularly bad lawyer, it could potentially sway whether or not he was hanged. Ultimately? It could go either way.

Olive Green - Thankfully, no! It was almost explicitly stated that the fact that she didn’t kill Shamspeare was a blessing, because it meant that her life wasn’t over. So again, probably a hefty prison sentence; but she’ll be free someday.

Enoch Drebber - Nah. He planned the crime, yes, but in the end he only became an accomplice in Asman’s actual murder. A hefty prison sentence, I imagine, but not death - and depending on his behavior, he could potentially get out sooner rather than later.

Courtney Sithe - Apparently not! Until Asman’s murder, I thought anybody who deliberately killed anybody in this universe would be hanged because of Stronghart’s comment about McGilded. However, Maria is far too happy about her mom still being alive during the credits for her death to be impending, so I have to think that Courtney is just going to be in prison for A While - possibly the rest of her life (though as a Sithe lover I can dream that she’ll get something shorter). Perhaps the queen commuted her death sentence because of her many years of work in the criminal justice system, which as far as I can tell was the only way you could evade hanging for murder at the time? Either way, she’d still be alive.

Seishiro Jigoku - Yep. Stronghart and others outright said he would likely never see his homeland again, and given that he committed two murders and organized an attempted assassination, I think he’s getting more than just lifelong prison time. The fact that Stronghart spearheaded all of these crimes and had quite a hand in coercing Jigoku to commit them would probably not be enough to stop him from hanging.

Mael Stronghart- Absofuckinglutely. Because okay, sure, he didn’t directly kill anyone. But there’s no way in hell this guy’s not gonna get executed. He’s ordered so many people’s deaths and committed so many corrupt acts that I don’t think it even matters at this point that he didn’t personally get his hands dirty - and given that Queen Victoria openly hates him now, she’s definitely not going to commute his sentence.

[liyazaki]

BL Tag Game

tagged by @negrowhat, @i-got-the-feels & a couple other peeps but my drafts folder is a hoarder's paradise & I don't feel like scrolling that far. I've done this one 2 or 3 times in the past & most of my answers haven't changed, so I broke the rules & rewrote some of them for funsies.

all time current favorite bl character and why Pete my beloved- make that Vegas and Pete, collectively. every time I think about their personal histories/upbringing, the trajectory of their relationship, who they fundamentally are as people- I uncover some other fascinating angle or food for thought to obsess over. I'm a lost cause & I'm not interested in being saved...just leave me locked up in the safe house room with my damaged, multifaceted blorbos.

one character from a bl you wanted to punt in to the stratosphere no character takes me from 0 to ready to commit manslaughter faster than Mork from FUTS. if I could sue to get back every second I wasted watching his cardboard-cutout, autonomy-what's-that ass, I would.

best music moment from a bl stealing Eboni's answer here: Gav and Cairo singing Ngayon to each other is one of the only music moments in a BL that doesn't make me want to jump out of the nearest window.

a popular heterosexual text you would like to see adapted in to a bl a bl you'd like to see adapted for the stage KinnPorsche- just imagine the drama and ridiculousness of a play version. the second season would need to be completed first, because we need the full story/mystery included. the sets wouldn't be too difficult to create (can already visualize a couple now) & most could be restyled and reused after intermission. maybe it's time to redo my Cherry Magic playbills…

a scene from a bl that always makes you laugh the opening scene for Absolute BL still breaks me every time. the dragging-boo-away is such a classic trope & the expression on Mob's friend's face as he's been whisked away is just- 🤣

biggest bl disappointment 7 Project was such a overly-hyped, disastrous mess. Sammy- all the actors, really- deserved so much better.

what two random bl characters would make hilarious exes two random bl characters who would be besties hear me out: Tankhun (KP) and Shiwoon (LOM). as always-on as Shiwoon is, he'd probably have no idea what to do with/think of Tankhun at first, but once he started to get a feel for Tankhun's unique brand of crazy? hoo boy- watch out, world.

who would be the funniest person to watch a BL in its entirety and which one would you make them watch. no clue. I don't like watching reaction videos of people not familiar with the genre/tropes/etc. either; I'd rather see content from people who are already into it or least acquainted with it.

best wardrobe moment/or character wardrobe from a bl any & all Tankhun ensembles- I cannot (and will not) choose.

no-pressure tagging @guzhu-furen @rainbowcolored7 @ommited-miscellaneously @omarandjohnny @talays-portkey @sunsetandthemoon & anyone else who feels like joining in.

[shiorimakibawrites]

It is one of the best things about fan fiction. The ability to give our beloved characters something they don't have in canon.

This got long so thoughts below the cut.

Holidays and birthdays are not the happiest topic to headcanon for our boys but you can't really dig deep into them without digging into their traumas . . . it's like trying to understand Dean and Sam as characters without looking at their childhood = mom dead, dad badly damaged and hunting things everyone thinks are make-believe, seldom in one spot long enough to form meaningful relationships beyond each other = all that directly impacts how the Winchester boys see the world. I bet Jessica had some interesting questions for Sam sometimes. Because as much as he was trying to live a normal life . . . Sam doesn't really know a normal is . . . Second unrelated headcanon, I firmly believe that Dean regularly poked around Palo Alto to make sure Sam was okay. After all, he knew exactly where Sam was living in episode 1.

Okay, didn't mean to get derailed by talking about the Winchesters.

Matt

In addition to the knowledge that the Nelsons aren't his family, you know it takes Matt a long time to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop (if he ever does stop waiting).

"Sure, they are welcoming me now but I know that wouldn't last. It never does. Soon or later, that will be gone too. So best not to get too used it. That way when I started spending holidays alone again it wouldn't hurt as much."

Frank

Just thinking that part of his brooding is the guilt of how often he wasn't there for those days. That he wasted precious time he could have spending with them. Yes, he didn't know . . . couldn't have known that he wouldn't get more birthdays, more holidays, with them. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel like he should have known.

Lifetime by Three Days Grace invokes Frank's grief for Maria very well. Partially this part of the lyrics:

Never again! Never again, will I look into the only eyes that knew me feels like a bullet right through me Never again! Never again, will I look into the only ones that knew me. You were the one that I wasn't supposed to lose!

Because Maria was civilian. She should have been safe. Frank expected to go first. He had the dangerous job. It should have been her burying him.

I believe that particular mental voice saying that is even louder on days that should have been happy. Like birthdays and holidays.

Side note: It's likely never a good time to get on the Punisher's bad side but if it something like Lisa's birthday . . . that is a really, really bad time for anyone to incur his wrath.

Michael

Yeah, I can see his memories of childhood birthdays and holidays being a mixed bag. And wanting Anna to have a much better and safer childhood than he did.

Think he has a certain amount of guilt for ruining that for her. Anna was supposed to have a safe, happy childhood. Not her mother dead and her father in prison for her mother's death. A lesser version of Frank's guilt for those eight years of not being there . . . but not as intense since Anna wasn't murdered just after he was released (through his nephew who was probably actually his son was . . . )

Given that Mikey was only charged with manslaughter . . . I think there is good evidence that Allison's death wasn't intentional on his part . . . it's not like the Garda aren't aware the Kinsella are involved in crime (even if they can't prove exactly what crimes are being committed or by whom) . . . so not exactly people predisposed to view Michael in a sympathetic light.

If Bren really did take Mikey out to kill someone for his birthday . . . I think we can be certain of psychological abuse. At least. But I wouldn't put it past Bren to have engaged to every form of abuse toward his children.

My suspicious mind that has watched way too many crime documentaries also wonders if Mikey's mother really left. How do we know that Bren didn't kill her and just claimed that she left him, abandoning two of her three children? Granted, we don't much about his mother and her personality . . . but it is a little odd to take only one child when fleeing an abusive partner.

Headcanon: I think all of the boys have complicated relationships with holidays and birthdays. On the one hand, they all have happy memories for those. But on the other hand, they all also suffered tragic losses that makes those memories bittersweet.

Holidays at St. Agnes were celebrated but there was limited resources and Matt was very firmly in his shell. Frank probably experiences a certain guilt for every holiday or birthday he missed with Maria and the kids while serving overseas. And I doubt Michael found much to celebrate about being in prison for the manslaughter of his wife and not contact with his daughter.

I honestly agree with you on this, though I think theses big days tend to be more depressing than anything for them. It's sad to think about, but I bet every year when the big days roll back around, all three men hate it for different reasons. I put my thoughts for each of our boys below the cut for this and I'm sorry it took so long to answer this one!! There's also Kin spoilers in my Mikey answer, FYI.

For Matt, I imagine holidays and birthdays are bittersweet because at the very least, he has the fond memories of celebrating with his father before he passed to help offset his memories from the orphanage. Because I don't doubt for a minute that Jack didn't do the best he could to give young Matt memorable birthdays and holidays despite them not having much to begin with.

I honestly picture Jack making a boxed cake mix for Matt's birthday every year because he wanted Matt to at least have a cake. And I imagine him always doing his best to get Matt something, even if it was a little present just wrapped in newspaper. I also picture Jack making as much of a feast as he could for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners even though they probably mostly celebrated alone and certainly didn't have much money. Maybe Jack made a roast chicken instead of a turkey every year for Thanksgiving. And at Christmas, I picture the focus being more on the pair of them being together and making their own yearly traditions (and for some reason I personally just always picture Jack making blueberry pancakes Christmas morning--don't ask me why).

But after Jack passed, Matt was just one of many at an orphanage while struggling with his heightened senses. I don't imagine they celebrated birthdays at St. Agnes, so I certainly doubt he ever had a birthday cake again after his dad passed. And I'm sure there was never a feast for Thanksgiving (gluttony is a sin after all), but rather a focus on giving thanks and maybe giving back to the community. Holidays like Christmas and Easter would obviously be focused on the religious meaning and not the "fun" aspect that children generally associate with them--so no presents under the tree or fun egg hunts.

I think as an adult, Matt probably treats his birthday as just any other day (and I have long since had plans for FFTD Reader to eventually do something big for when the timeline reaches his birthday again because this idea deeply saddens me). I think he's grateful that Foggy's family took him in for holidays though, and I think that helped Matt to maybe associate happier memories with the holidays in his adulthood at least, but I think he's also still very aware that they're not his family, too. Which I think continues to add to that bittersweet feeling on holidays.

For Frank, I can't say I know much about his childhood (I haven't binged Punisher enough to remember if much was ever said), but I think he hates holidays and birthdays now. Not only did he certainly miss spending his birthdays and holidays with his family when he was in the Marines, but I'm sure he missed many birthdays for Maria and the kids during that time, too.

But it's not just that he missed those days when he was gone, but now they're all gone. And I promise you that man has not forgotten a single birthday for any of them whenever the day rolls around again. Always thinking about how much older Frank Jr. would be or what new thing Lisa might be into. He might be thinking about how he'd have liked to celebrate Maria with the kids on her birthday. He thinks about them all on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Halloween, Easter--hell, I'm sure he thinks about them on the Fourth of July because he probably took the kids to firework shows whenever he was home. But now every single one of those days is just so painfully empty for him, no matter what happy memories he had for them in the past. Now it all just hurts him to think about how things were and just reminds him of how lonely he is now.

So yeah, Frank hates birthdays and holidays.

I think Michael has a lot of mixed feelings over birthdays and holidays, too. We don't know too much about his past, but he was raised by Bren--and Bren is an absolute abusive and disgusting piece of shit (we don't even fully know what all he did to Mikey). So did Mikey get cake and presents on his birthday? Probably, but you can guarantee that cake came from Birdie and not his father. If a party was planned, it certainly wasn't because Bren did anything. I'm almost positive I remember something about Mikey being 16 and Bren taking him to go kill someone for the first time--so no, I don't think Bren was celebrating holidays and birthdays with Michael and Jimmy.

But then Michael had his daughter, Anna. And while we know next to nothing about his deceased wife, we do know that Michael loves Anna and was very active in her life. He damn well celebrated her birthdays and holidays--and we know he certainly had the money to do it. He would've never missed the opportunity to spoil her. Until, of course, he goes to prison and misses 8 years of birthdays and holidays with her. And you know he was sitting in that prison thinking about her for every one of those big days and hating himself for missing it, though I get the feeling he also considered it extra punishment. Because whether he really was responsible for Allison's death or not, he does make a comment that he felt he was responsible and that he deserved to serve that prison time.

This was a very sad topic to think about for all of our boys 😭 But at least fanfiction gives us the opportunity to give them happier memories for these days. Because deep down, I know all three of them just want that familial love that was lost or taken from them for one reason or another, and big moments in your life make you painfully aware of when you don't have those people to celebrate with.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Coincidence?

Pairing: Jensen x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Jensen’s voice, voice porn, dom!Jensen, role playing, phone sex, long distance, Jensen being out to murder every fangirl ever Word Count: 950 Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space | @spndeanbingo - Teasing

A/N: We all know why we’re here. We all know why this has happened. Jensen fucking Ackles and his fucking tank top and his floppy hair and his stupid sexy voice and his freakin’ green ass eyes and the scruff and the shoulders and the lips, I just…… you know.

“Are you trying to commit murder?” I asked jovially when Jensen picked up the phone.

“I’m sorry?” Jensen’s voice timbered down the line, upward lilt indicating his confusion.

“You’re at least going to be sued for manslaughter if you keep posting videos with that voice,” I teased, unable to hold back a giggle at my own joke, despite knowing it wasn’t very funny.

“Oh,” I hear the realisation take place, his voice floating over the syllable, pitch climbing and then plummeting back downwards. “You like my Soldier Boy voice, baby girl?” I felt my chest constrict around my breath as I listened to him change his tone, cadence and sibilance shifting subtly to that deeper place where he kept them buried for special occasions.

Jensen hadn’t told me too much about his role as Soldier Boy. From the sounds of it Amazon had everyone under a pretty tight lock and key as far as what they were allowed to reveal. Obviously Jensen knew anything he told me would stay between us, but I think he was enjoying the tease of keeping things from me. From the sounds of it I, and the rest of the world, had just gotten the first taste of his character’s voice.

“You know, it sounded pretty similar to your Dean voice, Jay. Did you do that just for little old me?” I poked fun. He knew how much I liked his ‘Dean’ voice. His laughter rang down the phone; not his carefree ‘that was really funny’ laugh, his ‘knowing’ laugh – his teasing laugh – but he didn’t oblige me with a comment on the subject, so I carried on. “Come to think of it, it’s also pretty close to your Batman voice,” I mused faux-thoughtfully.

He scoffed loudly, disbelief evident, and I smiled to myself.

“Are you sayin’ I play all my characters the same, little madam,” Jensen rumbled, provoked.

“Why no, sir,” I put on my best Scarlett O’Hara accent, mortally offended. My hand would be clutching my pearls, if I was wearing any. “I’m just saying that voice sounded awfully familiar to me. Was it just a coincidence?” He huffed derisively, wherever he and his phone were located, and I pushed on. “And you know, I can’t help but think all those voices sound just a little like another one of your roles, don’t you think?”

I know he knows what I mean. The good thing about being nowhere near each other is being able to flirt, and tease him like this. I can drag it out if I want to, because he’s not in the same room to topple me to the bed and make me shut up. My loins clenched wantonly at the thought.

“And exactly what role would that be, baby girl?” I had reached my goal, provoking the voice out of its depths to meet me head on, growling and rabid.

“I think you know exactly which role I mean, sir,” I whispered. If he’d been next to me my lips would have been at his neck, my teeth on his stubble, my words breathed against his skin.

“Oh, you mean the one where I get to put my bratty little girl in her place?”

My cunt seized again at his words. Yes, that was the voice. His Dean voice, his Soldier Boy voice, his Batman voice – his Dom voice.

“If I find out that voice has been putting any other brats in their place while you’ve been up there,” I threatened emptily, knowing he never would, but it was still fun to tease. “You and that sexy voice been slutting it up in Canada, sir?”

“Every time it looked like someone wanted to drop to their knees I wished it was you.” My breathing quickened. My hand had made it into my panties a while ago, and when my finger caught lightly on my clit I couldn’t suppress the gasp I made. “You’re on your knees for me now, aren’t you? You nasty little slut,” Jensen growled. I hadn’t been on my knees, but I certainly was now.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, my breast heaving with arousal.

“You like being on your knees for me, don’t you baby?” I started to whimper affirmatively as I touched myself quicker, but his words plowed over me. “Or are you imagining you’re on your knees for Soldier Boy now, hmm? Or Dean? Who do you want to make you cum, baby girl? I’ll let you pick.”

My knees almost gave way beneath me. Jesus Christ I wasn’t prepared for that. We’d talked about it before, role playing, but we’d never taken it further than a casual chat over a bottle of wine. I considered my options for a moment, my fingers picking up pace the slicker their surroundings became. Although Soldier Boy had supposedly been the one to get us into this position, I still didn’t know that much about him. Dean, on the other hand... god, how many times had I imagined Dean? But still–

“Just want you, sir, please,” I finally spoke, voice cracking on the supplative. “Save Dean and whoever else for when you can dress up for me,” I giggled lightly, using the lull to pull myself back from reaching my peak too quickly. “I just need you, Jay,” I chanced using his name, despite the scenario. It felt better, reiterating that Jensen was all I was ever going to need, however much I might fantasise about wanting something else.

“You’ve got me, baby girl,” Jensen spoke softly, his voice flowing into my body like bourbon, warm and sweet and relaxing.

“But sir?”

“Yes, baby girl?” he asked soothingly.

“Can you still use the voice?”

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[guesst]

“ i’ve… made some mistakes. “ those 12 people that izuku manslaughtered but didn't really in world heroes mission? That was rody. It was an accident

“I’ve… made some mistakes.”

Midoriya looks sideways at Rody, shadows flickering across his face from the small fire they’ve set up in the cave. He stays silent, only shifting to make himself slightly more comfortable on the hard stone of the floor.

Rody stares fixedly at his shoes, hunching further into himself. “I don’t… I don’t know why I’m, uh. Why I’m telling you this.”

Pino chirps anxiously from Rody’s hair.

“O-or, I guess, I’ll start with, um. Did you…” Rody takes in a sharp, juddering breath. “Did you ever wonder why I’d ever – why I didn’t, uhm, protest when you… when you told me you were wanted for murder – why I thought it would be okay to come with you? Why I didn’t run away?”

“I thought it was because you were accused of being my accomplice? You’re also wanted, no?”

“I mean, yeah, but, y’know… there were 12 people that, that died, right? How am I supposed to know you-” a convulsive gulp of air - “-that you didn’t really k-kill them?”

Midoriya hums quietly. “Well, I suppose you’ll tell me?”

Rody falls completely silent at Midoriya’s question, eyes widening and breath coming in short, staccato bursts. Pino puffs up, the trembling of his feathers stark against the chocolate brown of Rody’s hair. 

“You don’t have to,” Midoriya says gently. He readjusts his position, reaching out towards the other boy. “Not if you don’t want to. I-”

“I killed them!”

Midoriya’s eyes widen. Whatever he’s about to say is forgotten immediately in the wake of Rody’s confession.

“I killed them,” Rody repeats, shifting his gaze to his hands. They’re shaking. “They were going to kill me first, so I…”

“You got them first,” Midoriya says, “before they got you.”

Rody turns his head to the hero-in-training beside him. Midoriya meets his gaze with complete sincerity.

“You acted in self defense. And that’s okay.”

A pause, then – “No, it’s not! I killed twelve people at once! In what world is that okay!?”

“In my world.”

“...What?”

Midoriya smiles with the innocence of a baby rabbit. “Rody, I’ve been killing people since I was eight. Usually not intentionally –”

“Usually!?”

“– but the point is, you’re not alone.” 

Pino flits nervously around Rody as he scrambles backwards, away from the only other person in the cave. “You’re insane.”

Midoriya has the audacity to look taken aback. “But I – I already told you, most of them were accidents!”

“The word that concerns me is most! What kind of hero commits murder and gets away with it?”

“If I told you the story, would that make you feel better?”

Rody is pressed against the wall of the cave, as far as he can get from Midoriya without actually leaving the cave. His palms are clammy – he really hopes he isn’t leaving, like, sweat stains on the wall (what a strange thought to have, a distant voice in is head notes) – but God, if only he could leave.

But he can’t.

He has to get back to Roro and Lala. They’re waiting for him. And, much as the thought fills him with horror, this boy in front of him, sitting with bloodstained hands at a small campfire – Midoriya is his only way out.

So he cannot say anything but “yes.”

toc | next

[le-poor-writer]

Serve at First Sight (Kageyama Tobio x F!Reader)

"I bet I can..." Hinata mumbled and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Hah?" Kageyama glared back. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not good at setting. BUT I BET I CAN HIT THE LONGEST AND FASTEST SERVE!"

"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"

"YOU WANNA GO NOW?"

"Uh... Kageyama, Hinata, Stop messing around or else you'll get an earful from Daichi-san." Yamaguchi tries to mediate the situation. The last time the idiotic duo did something stupid, all the first years had to run extra laps. And he was not up for that today.

"No use talking to idiots Yamaguchi." Tsukki sneered. "They have an IQ capacity of a teaspoon."

Hinata stood at the line of the court, deciding to go first. Throwing the ball into the air, he jumped as high as he could. As if he were a crow that leaped into the sky. His ball managed to land a good one meter away from line of the opposite side. A loud bang resonating the court and he beamed smugly at his tall opponent. Kageyama had a ball ready in hands as he took Hinata's place. Itching to outperformed the record set by the orange-head. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed Oikawa's diabolical jump serve from their previous practice match. He knew he was a hundred years too early to be able to do that. Doesn't mean he won't try his luck though.

With a deep exhale, he took flight. Blocking out all sounds surrounding him, save that of his squeaking shoes and the volleyball as he slapped it forward. The stinging sensation felt on his hand causing him to grin. Not quite like Oikawa's, but still powerful. This is it, it will definitely plunge further than Hinata's. And it did. The ball flew pass that one meter mark. And hit a person. Kageyama's eyes blinked twice before the situation finally seeped through his thick skull. He had hit someone's head! Suddenly he could hear his surroundings again. Hinata panicked scream. Yamaguchi running towards the unfortunate human being who fell to the ground. Tsukki trying not to laugh at this slapstick comedy.

Kageyama sprinted towards the person. A hundred thoughts running through his mind. Is the person alright? Is he going to get in trouble with Daichi for this? Where are the third years anyway? Most importantly, when was that person there? How is it he did not notice them? What were they doing there in the first place? Surely no one would actually collapsed from that hit, right? He stood behind Yamaguchi who was trying to communicate with the seemingly unconscious person. And that was when Kageyama noticed, the person was a girl. A petite girl. He kneeled beside Yamaguchi. She seemed to be a little pale.

"Hello?" Yamaguchi tapping her shoulder. "Excuse me, can you hear me?"

No reply.

"KAGEYAMA KILLED SOMEONE!" Hinata hollered.

"What are you going to do now Kageyama?" Despite knowing that she only passed out, Tsukki decided to humour Hinata.

"I'll take her to the nurse's office." Immediately he carried her and jogged out of the court. Hoping not to run into anyone. Especially Daichi.

He couldn't help but glance at her face every three seconds. Wondering if she will wake up midway. But she didn't and that worried him more. If it weren't for her soft faint breaths he would have thought that he actually committed manslaughter with his jump serve. Besides, she has such a small frame. He was afraid if he really did break her. Kageyama held her closer to his body. Noticing how she fit snugly in his arms. And when looked closely, she's actually really cute. A blush spread quickly all over his face. What was he thinking? He doesn't even know her.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) blinked slowly. Feeling slightly dazed.

She woke up late today, all because of that stupid extra Japanese literature homework that had to be submitted during first period. And because she woke up late, she skipped breakfast. She wanted to get something during lunch, but had to drop by the school library to return some books that were due today. Well what do you know, apparently everyone needed to return their books today. If she had known she would've asked her friends to at least get her melon bread. She had about 10 minutes left before lunch ended, but she ran into her senior and was reminded to submit the club activities report today.

It was so hard to focus on classes for the rest of the afternoon. She drank lots of water in hopes to delay the impending dizziness. It was somewhat working. She only needed to wait until clubs and activities time. She'll get a sugary drink from the vending machine, then tell the club leader that she's going to head home early. But karma really had to be a bitch today. Her wallet was not in her bag. (Y/n) dreaded the fact that she might have dropped it somewhere. Searching for her wallet with this now nasty migraine is really going to be such a pain. That is until she suddenly remembered she left it in her drawer at home. She had forgotten about it amidst the rush.

(Y/n) crouched in front of the vending machine. What are the gods playing at exactly. Is it really so hard to get a single bite? Is this karma for denying Mr. Snuggles his treat last week? Well it was not her fault that he knocked over her pudding off the table! She was on the verge of tears when she heard the sound of volleyballs. Oh right, the vending machine was sort of close to the volleyball court... Didn't Yachi say she was recently the co-manager for Karasuno's volleyball club along with that beautiful senior Kiyoko. There is hope. She only needed a little money to get that small carton of drink.

She stood up quickly and regretted it. God, this migraine is killing her. With every ounce of determination she had left, she dragged her feet towards the court. Swaying a little every now and then. The sounds were getting louder, The ball hitting the court, shoes squeaking and people yelling? This is a good thing, it meant that she was getting closer. This is also a bad thing, because it's splitting her skull. Everything around her blurred as she entered the hall. Shit, where is Yachi? She took a few more steps before she felt a hard impact on her head. Dear lord that hurts like hell. And she lost all control of her body before everything went black.

"Oi." a gruff voice distracted her thoughts.

She sat up immediately. Hitting her head on the bed post in the process. She has realized by now that she must have passed out and someone from the volleyball club took her to the nurses office. It must have been this boy sitting beside her. But that still didn't mean she wouldn't be caught off guard. She has always been somewhat intimidated by the male species. Especially those tall towering ones that had to bend a little to talk to her. It's one of the unfortunate things one has to endure being 4'10 and having a small frame. People often joked that she could fit in a suitcase. Though seeing her other shorter friends did brought her pleasure, it still doesn't change the fact that a lot of people around her were giants.

"Idiot."

"Excuse me?" she glared. What's the big idea calling her an idiot out of nowhere. He was the one who surprised her. Sitting on a stool at her bedside, ain't that too close for a stranger, sir?  Who is he again? The volleyball club is pretty popular here in Karasuno after they managed to get into the finals of Inter high recently. It was unfortunate that they lost to Aoba Johsai, but everyone acknowledged what a monster the school was. Yachi said everyone felt down but it didn't dampened their spirit, for their next chance will be the Spring Tournament.

"S-sorry." the guy replied.

Dark eyes darting away from her face. She could make out an intimidating look on his face. Eyebrows furrowing sternly. Lips set on a grim line. Yet his cheeks flushed. Or was it because of the orange hue from the setting sun (she couldn't really tell), which also made his black hair glow. It dawned upon (y/n) that if he could just smooth away his frown, he would be handsome (she thinks). And if only he weren't being gruffy. Wait a minute. Tall volleyball player, black hair, intimidating frowning face but yet somehow still good looking?

"I'm Kageyama Tobio-"

"I know."

Silence... Well that was awkward.

She cleared her throat. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n). From Class 5. Um, Yachi's friend."

"Oh." Shoot. He didn't know she was Yachi's friend. What will the manager say about this. "I'm sorry. That my jump serve knocked you out."

"No no no! I was actually a little hypoglycemic. So your uh, jump serve was just the final nail in the coffin." Damn, she knew that getting hit by any ball was going to hurt. But the ball just now, it felt like it could tear her head off. Or maybe that's just an exaggeration of being starved the whole day. She realized his expression went from frowning to horrifying. "N-not that it will literally be the final nail to my coffin! It was just an expression. Maybe not a good one. Sorry I'm just bad with words when it comes to strangers. I mean not that you're an absolute stranger. It's just that- I'm sorry, I'm blabbering too much."

"Not at all!" he yelled. Ah, he got too animated. He didn't understand why. But he just thought everything about this girl is cute. From her petite stature that makes him want to shield her from the wind. To her way of talking that showed just how shy and awkward she was as how it is with him. Trying to reassure him that it was fine. He couldn't understand this sudden grip in his heart and the tingling sensation at his fingertips. Though maybe it was because he hasn't touch the volleyball for a few hours now.

Another awkward silence ensues.

"Anyways," (Y/n) was still a bit shy. She was after all talking to one of the most popular boys at school. But seeing as how he is now, she thought she could loosen up her guard a bit. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"You wear glasses?"

They rushed back together to the volleyball court. Yachi attacked her with a hug as she lamented about the news she heard from her fellow peers. Daichi scolding him to be careful next time whilst Tanaka giving him his infamous gangster glare. Hinata coming forward with his head down as he presented (Y/n)'s broken glasses. He accidently stepped on them when he was panicking, though he only realised it when she was sent to the nurse's office. Her glasses must have fallen off her head when she got hit. That hard huh. Really God, you want to test her that much today. Fine, she'll apologize to Mr. Snuggles when she gets home.

Unbeknownst to her, Kageyama felt even worse than earlier. His ball caused her to knocked out, and now it even knocked off the glasses from her head and broke it. Stuttering on his words, he apologized again. Hands balled into a tight fist. He just felt so bad. Suga noticed how dejected he sounded. But he also noticed how pink his ears were. Oh? Well even if it wasn't what he thought, there was no harm in... light teasing. Besides, they'd looked adorable together, no?

"If you really feel guilty. Then you should walk her home today." slinging his arm over Kageyama's shoulder, Suga tried to keep a neutral expression. Well there was a slight smirk, but he tried. "What if she falls down on her way home? Or run into a pole?"

"I am short-sighted Sugawara-senpai. Not blind." (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. Really these eyesight jokes should be old by now. "Besides, I will need to stop by the optic shop to have new ones made."

"All the more for him to accompany you. It will get dark soon. Might be dangerous to be walking alone with such bad eyesight."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to burden-"

"Let's go." Kageyama interrupted. And when she declined again, he argued back. "Stop being a stubborn idiot. You still haven't eaten, you can't see well and you're so light that people can just easily carry you away."

Did he just called her an idiot for the second time in the short the period they have known each other. How rude! Not that his points were invalid. He was right. But boy does this person lack delicacy. In the end, she agreed to let him accompany her. He bought two cartons of milk from the vending machine. One for each of them, and they set off on their merry way.

~~~~~~~~~~

"No- Okay. Once again. Osmosis only works with solvents. Simple diffusion, both solvents and solutes. So in osmosis, solvents will move from low solute concentration-" (Y/n) stopped explaining when she noticed how Kageyama's brows were almost touching. His lips formed a small pout. "You know what, we have been revising for more than an hour. Let's take 5. Then continue for another hour. It's getting late and although my mum likes you, my dad wouldn't like you being in my room for too long."

Ever since that day where he sent her home, she began hanging out more with Yachi and the volleyball club. Not that she never hung out with her close friend, it's just that (y/n) felt out of place when she mingles with unfamiliar crowds. But now that every member knew her as the girl who got hit by Kageyama's jump serve, that became the basis of her acquaintanceship with the club and she got to hang out with Yachi more. And before she realized it, Kageyama has just been around her circle. Always there. Heck he has been walking her home more often now that even her mother likes him. Then they became just friends. Or she hoped it stayed that way, because she noticed her emotions began crossing unknown territories.

(Y/n) has come to learn a few things about Kageyama Tobio over the course of their friendship. One, he is an obsessed volleyball freak. A prodigy people say. But what (Y/n) sees is a person consumed by passion for the things he loves. And that isn't necessarily bad. Two, he can be quite childish. He fails to control his frustration which later comes off the wrong way whenever he expresses them. But really he means no harm, because when he is happy, he expresses them genuinely. And three, he is quite sensitive. He may want to show that he didn't care, but he actually takes things to heart. He may feel down about a comment, but he will learn to improve from it.

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"For having to teach an idiot like me."

"Oh stop it. Everyone is good and bad at something. We can't all be the perfect prodigy. That's just how things are. You may be bad at studying, but with your volleyball skills I bet you can represent Japan one day." noticing his eyes lit up, she continued. "So in order for you to attend your camp. Let's just try our best okay?"

Kageyama nodded. It was a little embarrassing to have her comforting him like this. But at the same time it brings him immense joy. When he first met her, he would get flutters looking at her cute appearance. Now, he just feels all warm and fuzzy whenever she talks to him. He liked that she didn't judge him or anyone she's ever met. She would scold him sometimes, but at the same time explained her reasoning. And he really appreciated that, how patient she was with him. It does make him guilty, but at the same time he wants to start behaving better. Is this what Suga meant when he said he has a crush on (Y/n)? Kageyama doesn't really know. He will need time to analyze everything.

"(L/n), do you have time during our Spring Tournament?" he tried looking anywhere else but her face.

"You want me to cheer on the club? Sure thing."

"Yes." Hearing her reply made him smile. With a steady gaze he stared straight into her eyes. "Watch me play, (y/n). I'll show you a really strong serve."

(Y/n) could only smile back as she felt butterflies in her stomach. "Then we better get back to studying."