#and being punished for it by having reality collapse around them

[freckledbastard]

i support sonic rights and also sonic wrongs but also sonic did nothing wrong actually

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 24

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Thursday, December 17th; 7:00 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I collapse face down on my bed as soon as I step into my room. All I can think about is being on vacation. It’s about to become reality. To be honest, I’m struggling to grasp that starting tomorrow, I’ll be home for two whole weeks. It feels strange, but it’s definitely going to do me good. These last few weeks have been intense, and I really need a break. I have a splitting headache from all the constant studying. It feels like a hammer pounding in my head without rest. I just got back from Bronze after studying for my last exam, which is tomorrow. I’m relieved to see the end in sight because it was turning into a real disaster. The pressure and anxiety of not succeeding took over, and I started working more than I should have. I felt like the study sessions at Bronze weren’t enough anymore. I became obsessed, to the point of breaking curfew multiple times to study late into the night. The lack of sleep started affecting my behavior. I became unintentionally aggressive, which caught the attention of my supervisor. She noticed the bags under my eyes and figured out what was going on. Let’s just say she gave me a good scolding. Her decision was final, no matter what I said. She took all my study materials out of my room to control my workload. She almost punished me, but she held back when she saw my state. Our relationship has taken another step forward. I think she’s changed since she asked me to call her by her first name outside of school. She’s more open than before. Sometimes, I even call her Lucy when our study sessions run late, and she doesn’t mind. It’s become much more pleasant to spend time with her. She’s reached the point where she can tell what I’m thinking or feeling just by observing me. It’s very unsettling to be read like that. When she realized my problem with studying, she immediately found the right words to reassure me. Ever since she took my things on Friday night, she’s been coming by my room every evening to make sure I get back into a good sleep routine. Still, I’m mentally exhausted. All these exams were too much, and I’m starting to miss my family. I haven’t seen them in a month, hence my eagerness for the holidays.

“Are you done with your revisions at Bronze?”

Alexia snaps me out of my drowsiness. I must have dozed off without realizing it because I didn’t even hear her come in. I groan when she flops down on my back without any consideration. She kisses my cheek before resting her head on mine. Without knowing it, Alexia has started to break down my boundaries around physical contact.

“I came to get you for dinner. You’re coming, right? The others are already there.”

“Yeah,” I mumble into my pillow. “I’m starving. But I’m coming back here afterward.”

“Don’t worry, I was planning on coming back here too.”

“Come on, get off me!” I say, wriggling. “I’m starving!”

I laugh as she teases me by pressing down on me even harder. She finally gets up, but not before giving my butt a playful slap.

“Hey!” I exclaim, feigning indignation.

“Oops,” she says with an innocent look.

I smile and roll my eyes. Without her, I would have probably sunk into a deep depression. I was so angry with Lucy that first night she took my stuff that I was mad at the whole world. Alexia was there that night, and since then, she hasn’t let a single evening pass without making me laugh. She helped me think about other things, and that’s how I came to understand Lucy’s actions. To succeed, I also needed to learn to let go and have some fun. And that’s what I’ve been doing with Alexia. We’ve relaxed a lot, and she even took the opportunity to share new stories from her childhood. I took the chance to tell her about my relationship with Mapi as well. I had promised her a while ago that I would talk about it, so I did. Alexia is someone I really appreciate. She’s strong, and she has such a contagious joy. With those thoughts in mind, we head to the cafeteria in good spirits.

“Have you heard from Mapi these last few days?”

“Not really. She’s also busy studying. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

I don’t press further as we enter the cafeteria. We grab our trays and join our friends who are already seated. I greet the people I haven’t seen yet today. Since our day in the snow, our group sometimes expands at meals with the addition of girls who joined the snowball fight the other day. That’s the case tonight with Ella and Alessia joining us. They’ve taken the usual spots where Ale and I sit, but we don’t mind and take the seats opposite them. Over time, I’ve learned that Alessia is actually Leah’s sister. I figured it wasn’t a coincidence that I get along so well with her. Looking back, I realize they have quite similar personalities. They’re both very calm and thoughtful. Alessia once confided that she thought I had a crush on her sister. I quickly reassured her that we’re just good friends and that it would never go beyond that. I focus on the conversation going around the table. It’s about our upcoming vacation. Everyone is really excited. I get it; I feel the same way. I’m starting to get impatient for tomorrow. I can finally breathe and see my loved ones again.

“Do you already have plans for New Year’s, Ona?” Alba asks me.

“Not really. I guess I’ll spend it with Mapi, but we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“See, I told you she’d already have something planned,” his sister comments.

“Well, technically, nothing’s set yet. Why?”

They exchange a knowing look before Leah decides to speak up.

“To be honest, we usually spend it together here in Manchester. We were hoping you’d join us if you didn’t have any plans.”

“Really? Where do you do it?”

“It’s at our place,” Alessia explains. “We live here, and our parents usually go celebrate New Year’s with their friends.”

“I see. Is this the first time you’ve done this?” I ask curiously.

“No, this will be the third year we’ve done it together,” Ale responds. “It’s the only holiday we can all spend together, so we make the most of it.”

I nod, understanding perfectly. This idea excites me a lot. It would be so cool to finally be able to spend an evening with them outside of school. It’s definitely better than spending a drunken night at Mapi’s friend’s place. Still, I don’t want to leave Mapi behind. We’ve barely spent any time together since I’ve been here. Besides, we’ve always celebrated New Year’s together ever since we met. I know she’s expecting us to spend this one together too. We don’t even need to talk about it to know that.

“I would love to come, but I can’t leave Mapi alone,” I share.

“Why don’t you bring her along?” Alba suggests.

“That’s true, it’s a good idea,” Ale adds. “I really want to meet her after everything you’ve told me about her. Do you think she’d agree?”

“I see why you suddenly asked if I’d heard from her,” I say with an amused smile.

“Yes, well,” she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile. “I wanted to know if you’d already talked about it. Seriously, would it be possible? It’s a bit of a crazy plan, but doable, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be complicated. She has a girlfriend, and I doubt she’d want to celebrate without her,” I grimace. “I’ll ask her and see what she says. Anyway, I want to come, but not without her.”

“She seems important to you,” Lotte comments.

“Well… yeah. She’s my best friend, you know. She’ll always come first.”

“See, I told you she’d say yes,” Patri laughs. “It’ll be awesome if you come. You’re part of the group now.”

I smile sincerely at her. It’s true that I’ve really integrated into their group by now. They’ve been very welcoming from the start, unlike me, who only did things my way. Now, it’s very different. A real friendship has formed between them and me. I was about to respond when someone taps me on the head with an object that echoes above me. I instinctively duck my head to avoid the attack, even though it doesn’t really help. When I try to turn around to see who it is, two large hands on my shoulders stop me.

“What has Mapi done now?”

I relax and lean back against Lucy, recognizing her voice. I expected to see her tonight before curfew.

“Nothing,” I giggle. “We were talking about New Year’s.”

“Oh. I thought you’d heard from her.”

“Briefly this morning, to talk about tomorrow. By the way, she sends her regards,” I say, lifting my head to finally see her.

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah. Did you want something specific?”

“I wanted to return the pen you left on my desk. It would be a shame to take your last exams without it, right?”

I smile as I take it back when she dangles it in front of my nose. What would I do without her? Probably not much. I can’t say it’s my lucky pen because I don’t believe in that sort of thing. However, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to change their habits once I’ve found something that works for me. That’s exactly how it is with this pen. I would have been frustrated to have to use another one for my last exam.

“Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to. Are you also returning my notes?”

“You need to stop taking advantage of my kindness. I’ll give them back tomorrow.”

“What kindness?” I laugh. “I’m old enough to manage my own sleep schedule.”

“No, you’re not. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken your notes.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. Well, I can’t complain too much. It’s true that she’s become nicer than before, even though she still treats me like a kid in some ways. It’s really frustrating, but I guess I’m partly to blame. She knows why she’s keeping my stuff. I would have been tempted to study tonight otherwise.

“Fine, I’ve recovered,” I protest.

“Ona,” she scolds. “I should make you run laps to tire you out tonight.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be fine,” I grimace.

“That’s what I thought. Everything will be fine, anyway. You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” she confirms. “Alright, I’ll come by your room before curfew.”

“Wait,” I quickly try to stop her.

“What? Hurry up, Engen is waiting for me.”

I turn to see that, indeed, she’s waiting at their table. I’m not used to sitting with my back to them. I like being able to see Lucy when we’re eating at the same time.

“Ona?” she calls out.

“Sorry… Um… Actually, I have a headache. I was wondering if you could bring me an aspirin or something?”

“Is it just a headache?” she frowns.

I smile when she instinctively places her hand on my forehead. Since my withdrawal and the flu, she worries about every little thing I might have. Well, it’s true that I’m still a bit fragile, but not to that extent.

“I just have a migraine. It’s probably from the studying.”

“And you dare ask me to give back your notes?”

“Oh, come on,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. “Can you bring me something then?”

“I’m not a walking pharmacy, but I’ll bring you something later.”

“Cool, thanks! And enjoy your meal.”

"Thanks, same to you."

She ruffles my hair before heading back to her table. I place my pen on the tray and watch it for a moment. My smile widens at the thought that she really knows me well.

"Well, you've got quite the bond," Patri chuckles.

"Hmm, if you say so," I shrug.

"It's true," Ella insists. "You're the only student she treats like that."

"We also spend a lot of time together," I shrug again.

"That's for sure," Ale laughs. "You're with her more often than with me!"

"Yeah, anyway, can we get back to the New Year's topic? If you want, we can call Mapi together later," I suggest.

"Oh yeah! That's a great idea, that way we can ask her directly!"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Even from a distance, my best friend manages to be loved. I'll keep to myself the fact that Mapi was jealous of Ale at first. She joked about it, but I know she was genuinely jealous. Still, I have no doubt they would get along. They're both so wild when they want to be, and it could cause some real chaos.

"By the way, how does Bronze know her?" Ale arches an eyebrow.

I freeze at her question. Damn, I hadn’t thought about that. You can’t really say they know each other. They’ve only talked once when I had a rough night. Otherwise, it often happens that Bronze comes to my room when I’m on the phone with her on the weekends. So, they greet each other, and sometimes they even tease each other (usually about me).

"Oh, well, you know, we often talk on the weekends, so Bronze hears me talking to her," I shrug.

"Hmm, hmm," she replies skeptically. "I must be missing out on some interesting stuff on the weekends."

"Not really," I laugh nervously.

Great, Ona. Very convincing. If she knew I often sneak out of school thanks to Bronze, I have no doubt she’d have something to say about it.

"Well, I’m done. I’m going back to the dorm. I can’t stand my headache anymore."

"Yep, I’ll join you soon."

I nod and wish everyone else a good evening before leaving the table. I clear my tray and then head out to face the cold. I hesitate for a moment to take the emergency exit to get there faster, but Bronze would kill me if she found out. So, I force myself to take the main entrance. I regret this choice when I hear the noise coming from the common room. Someone forgot to close the door. It makes me realize how disrespectful students can be. They struggle to understand they’re not alone. I escape the noise by going upstairs to avoid worsening my migraine. When I get to the room, I decide to shower immediately so Ale will have space when she returns. In the meantime, she comes back to tell me that she changed her mind under the influence of the others and is heading back down to the common room for a bit. At least I’ll have some time alone. Or so I thought until I come face to face with Bronze as I’m leaving the bathroom.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry, I was looking for you," she smiles softly.

"No problem..."

"Here, for your migraine."

"Oh, thanks... Wait, let me find a sweater first, I’m cold."

"You’re not getting sick again, are you? You’re trembling like a leaf."

"I don’t think so. I’m just cold," I say as I grab a sweater from the closet.

The shower had warmed me up, but the room is cold compared to the sauna I created in the bathroom. Let’s just say that shorts and a T-shirt aren’t enough in these circumstances.

"Your lack of sleep probably isn’t helping."

"Stop blaming everything on that. Don’t forget I’ve only lived in hot countries."

"Hmm..." she says skeptically.

"Anyway, I’m on vacation starting tomorrow at eleven. I’ll have two long weeks to sleep."

"That’s true."

I first put down my phone and computer before going over to her to take the pillbox and a small bottle of water she thoughtfully brought me. I quickly swallow a pill with a few sips of water.

"Can I keep them?"

"Only the bottle. You know the rules."

She smiles at me sympathetically. It’s clear that it’s not safe to leave a pillbox with a former addict.

"It’s not like I’m going to get high."

"You could be capable of it. Now, give me the box."

I don’t argue and hand it back to her before slipping under my blanket. Without asking her opinion, I turn on my computer. I squint, noticing that Lucy doesn’t seem to want to leave.

"Are you planning to stay here for a while?"

"No."

She grabs my desk chair and places it between the two beds before sitting down. I look at her skeptically.

"I’d like to talk about tomorrow."

I frown, not understanding where she’s going with this. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.

"For two things. First, how do you feel about the exam?"

I sigh and shake my head. She’s not going to let this go. I had a moment of panic, and now she’s back on my case.

"I’m not trying to bother you. I can tell you’re stressed, which is why I’m asking."

"Who wouldn’t be stressed in my position? I’m a little bit, I admit. But it’s not because of the exam. Well, the dice are cast since it’s the last one... I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ve passed or not."

She nods understandingly. I bite my lip and look down. I feel ridiculous for being so worried over something so minor.

"Hey. No matter the result, you can’t say you didn’t give it your best shot. Okay?" she asks, placing her hand on my leg to get my attention.

"A little bit, maybe. I should have worked harder from the start."

"You were lost back then, and now you have regrets. That’s completely normal, but don’t forget that since then, you’ve pulled yourself together. You’ve made the necessary effort to catch up, so let me tell you... You have nothing to blame yourself for, understand?"

I sigh, nodding slowly. She always has the right words, it’s incredible.

"I get it... I’ll try not to torture myself over it anymore. What’s the second thing?"

"Your return home."

"Lucy," I groan. "I’ll behave, I promise."

"I’m just asking you to be reasonable, OK? Don’t feel obligated to go to parties if you don’t want to, and if there’s any issue—"

"I’ll come talk to you, I promise," I finish for her.

"Good," she sighs. "It’s time for you to sleep."

"No, please. I’d like to call Mapi first. I have something to sort out."

"Alright," she concedes. "You have half an hour. Then you turn everything off."

"OK."

"And in case you’re wondering, I plan to stay here to make sure of it."

"You can’t be serious," I groan. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"You’ll have to deal with it. I want to make sure you sleep on time tonight."

"Who says I won’t have a private conversation with Mapi?"

"Is that the case?"

"Not particularly... The others suggested spending New Year’s here with Mapi. I wanted to ask her about it. It’s a good idea, right?"

"Hmm," she says unconvincingly.

"At least you won’t be far if there’s a problem," I tease.

"I’ll probably have something better to do than look after you during that evening, you know."

"True... I thought you’d be happy about it," I say, opening the FaceTime app. "I’m at least reassured that you won’t be far."

"If you’re reassured, it means you still don’t trust yourself. Anyway, it’s definitely better than a party full of strangers."

"It’s not the best, that’s for sure. I’ve never really liked those kinds of places anyway," I shrug.

"Then why do you go? To put on a show?" she laughs.

"I don’t know. To have fun, I guess. Isn’t that what everyone does when they go to those kinds of places?"

"I guess. I don’t know. I’ve always found those parties stupid."

"Is it just me, or does this topic seem to annoy you?"

"It doesn’t."

I lift my head from my screen to smile at her. It does annoy her for some reason. I know she won’t elaborate, but she could at least be honest.

"You don’t want me going to those kinds of parties, do you?"

"I’d prefer you didn’t, indeed," she admits.

"Alright, you win," I roll my eyes. "If I stay in Barcelona for New Year’s, it’ll be my last party. Is that okay?"

"Wasn’t that already the plan? You promised me you wouldn’t go to any more parties after what happened last time."

Thinking about it, I realize she’s right. I’m not supposed to go to any more parties. I bite my lip, wondering how she managed to get her way. She has such an influence on me that it’s becoming scary. However, with her recent reaction, I can’t tell if it’s because she wants what’s best for me or because she has particular issues with parties. Maybe it’s both.

"I still get New Year’s, though... right?"

She rolls her eyes with a small smile.

"I told you to just be reasonable. Isn’t that clear enough?"

"Thanks..." I exhale. "You scared me for a moment."

"Use these holidays to clear your head and stop thinking about school."

"That’ll be hard. I’ll miss your orders."

"Be glad to be away from my demands. I must be annoying to you," she says, making me laugh. "What’s so funny?" she frowns.

- "I don’t find you annoying. You're just straightforward, and I was serious when I said I'm going to miss you. No one cares about me like you do. By the way, I hope I can write to you during the holidays..."

- "We'll see if I reply," she teases me.

A ringtone interrupts our conversation. I frown as I see an incoming call from my best friend. I was about to call her, but it's surprising that she's calling since we weren’t supposed to talk tonight.

- "Excuse me. I have to take this."

- "Go ahead, you’ve got fifteen minutes left," she reminds me.

I nod, pressing the green button and bringing the phone to my ear. With my other hand, I close my laptop, which is now useless.

- "Hey Maps, I was just about to call you."

- "Hey bonita," she replies in a small voice.

- "Oh! What’s wrong?"

- "Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

- "Don’t lie to me. I know you."

- "There’s nothing wrong."

- "Okay... if you say so..."

I squint as I see Lucy smiling. I nod to silently ask her what’s going on. In response, she just smiles wider.

- "What?" I say at the same time Mapi sighs.

- "Huh?"

- "Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you," I say, which makes Lucy laugh.

- "Are you with someone?"

- "Yeah... with Bronze. She’s playing babysitter."

- "Oh, I’ll let you go then."

- "No!" I quickly respond. "It’s not like she can hear you. Tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s up. I can feel it."

There’s a moment of hesitation where she stays silent. She takes a long breath. This is starting to worry me. Lucy seems to understand the situation from the way she looks at me. I suddenly sit up straight when Mapi bursts into uncontrollable sobs. If she’s crying, then something is really wrong. The only other time I’ve seen her cry was when I told her it was over between us.

- "Hey, Maps... What’s going on?" I say softly, not wanting to upset her.

- "Ana," she says. "She dumped me, Ona... Ana dumped me," she repeats desperately.

I part my lips in surprise. I didn’t see that coming... I regret not being by her side right now. Her sobs get louder, and there’s nothing I can do to calm her down. I can’t believe they’re no longer together. I really thought their relationship would last based on how she talked about her. I never really knew how she felt after I left, but hearing her now, I don’t even want to know. I run my hand over my face, trying to keep my composure.

- "Maps, I- It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll be in Barcelona around eleven PM. You can come with Hector, or you can wait for me at home, okay?"

- "I really thought she was the one, Ona. I finally managed to have a serious relationship again, and she dumped me like trash. Damn it!"

I close my eyes, hearing the loud noise she’s making on the other end. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it doesn’t sound good.

- "Mapi..."

- "What’s going on?" Lucy asks me.

I sigh, covering the phone’s microphone to explain the situation to her. Lucy asks for my phone. I hesitate for a moment before giving it to her.

- "Hey Mapi, it’s Bronze."

I hate myself for doing this, but Lucy is definitely better at handling these situations than I am. I tend to be clumsy with my words and never know what to say. Unlike me, Lucy knows how to handle things. She does it with me, and now she’s doing it with Mapi. She’s calming her anger and reassuring her. It feels like I’m listening to her talk to me when I need her support. Lucy’s words seem to have the desired effect because I can’t hear Mapi yelling from where I’m sitting anymore. She continues talking to her before handing the phone back to me.

- "She wants to talk to you."

I quickly take the phone where I can already hear my best friend calling me.

- "Yeah, it’s me," I reply.

It seems like her crisis has passed. She’s still sniffling a bit, but she’s not crying anymore.

- "I understand why you think she’s so great."

- "I never used those words," I chuckle lightly to ease the situation. "But you’re right."

- "You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious when you talk about her."

- "Let’s not talk about that now. Are you going to be okay?"

- "Hmm," she sighs. "I have to be. I have one of my most important exams tomorrow. I just needed to hear your voice... I’ll come to the airport tomorrow. I want to see you as soon as possible."

- "Alright. I’ll tell Hector to pick you up then."

I see Lucy tapping her watch. She gave me thirty minutes, and I guess they’ve passed.

- "Are you going to stay over?"

- "Of course, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll need your arms, if it’s not too much to ask."

- "Of course not. Go rest now. Bronze wants me to hang up."

- "Bossy, huh?" she giggles slightly, which reassures me about her state. "I thought curfew was at ten PM? It’s only quarter past nine where you are, right?"

- "It’s complicated. I’ll explain when I get back."

- "Don’t tell me you’re having insomnia again?" she questions. "I thought it was over since you hadn’t mentioned it."

- "I was, but not for the reasons you think."

- "Hmm..." she replies skeptically.

Now’s not the time to talk about my problems, especially not in front of Lucy. For now, she’s the one who needs reassurance. I don’t want her to start feeling sorry for herself like I did.

- "I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Maps."

- "Goodnight, Onita. Thank you, and thank your supervisor too."

- "I was planning to. Kiss."

I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand. As for my laptop, I put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and put it in the cupboard.

- "Thanks... I didn’t know how to handle that."

- "It’s no big deal."

I don’t have time to reply as the door opens, revealing Alexia. She’s no longer surprised by Lucy’s regular presence.

- "I’m back," she says before grabbing pajamas from her closet. "Are we calling Mapi again?"

- "I just talked to her on the phone. I didn’t have time to ask her about New Year’s."

- "You can chat tomorrow morning. It’s time to sleep now, Ona," Lucy announces to me.

- "I’ll go take my shower then," Ale says. "Goodnight."

- "Goodnight," I reply.

I lie down in bed, looking at Lucy. I think I’m hallucinating when she takes my laptop and phone.

- "Don’t tell me you’re taking those with you?"

- "Yes. I should have thought of this earlier. Have you used them this week?"

- "Of course not," I groan. "You’ve checked on me every day!"

- "Hmm. Come on, I was serious. It’s time to sleep."

- "Are you planning to stay?" I’m surprised.

- "Yes. I want to make sure you sleep."

- "That’s ridiculous," I mutter. "You’re getting too serious about this."

- "Go to sleep."

I roll my eyes and eventually turn my back to her, wrapping myself in the blanket. The good thing is that my headache has finally gone. The bad thing is that Lucy’s presence is unsettling, even when I close my eyes. Sleeping is impossible. Especially with all the noise I hear when Alexia comes back into the room. She seems to be trying not to make any noise, but it’s not enough. I want to complain, but Lucy beats me to it by asking Ale to go to bed. A few minutes later, the light goes out, plunging us all into darkness. I roll over to the other side now that it’s dark and I can’t see Lucy watching me. I know she’s still there; otherwise, I would have heard the sound of the chair. Time passes, and I can make out Alexia’s steady breathing. My mind is too agitated, and it’s starting to annoy me. I sigh heavily, admitting defeat.

- "I can’t sleep," I mutter, rubbing my eye.

- "And then you wonder why I’m still here," she jokes.

- "It’s not funny," I sigh, sitting up.

- "Stay in bed. Curfew has passed."

- "Am I allowed to go to the bathroom?"

She sighs but lets me go. I make sure not to take too long so she doesn’t get impatient. I wash my hands before returning to bed under her watchful eyes.

- "What are you going to do during your vacation?" I murmur.

- "Talking won’t help you fall asleep," she says, annoyed.

- "It might help."

- "No, it just distracts you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when I take you home tomorrow."

- "You’re taking me to the airport?"

- "Yes, Ona."

- "Cool. I prefer it when it’s you."

- "Don’t get any ideas. It’s just because I’m leaving at the same time as you."

- "Hmm."

I smile even though she can’t see it. Even if it’s the truth, I don’t care about the reasons. I just focus on the fact that she’s the one taking me home, even though she doesn’t have to. I understand now why she wanted to handle my departure reservations. I thought it was to take the burden off me.

- "Thanks," I say.

- "Okay, that’s enough. You’re starting to annoy me by being so awake. If you talk again, I’m really going to make you run laps. Am I clear!?"

- "Oh, come on, calm down," I grumble. "I’ll sleep."

- "I hope so. Goodnight."

- "Goodnight..."

I smile as I finally turn my back to her. I try now to clear my head and pretend she’s not there. This last solution seems to work this time because I finally feel myself drifting off.

[agent-8449]

The Negatives: Masterpost

"Howdy there, to the audience beyond the screen! I'm your host Eris, and this is Late Nights With Disharmonia..."

The Negatives AU was borne, long long ago, by me fucking around with the ancient joke of Soul 2. Mind 2, Heart 2, Whole 2, etcetera. It evolved into something more sophisticated if light-hearted, and now it's psychological horror. Oops!

Firstly; Eris, this Whole, is American. That's the first part of the joke. The second is that he's supposedly everything a normal golden Whole isn't-- loud, confident, in control. The third part is that he's exactly like a normal Whole in those respects anyway. He might have willed away the loop amnesia, but this cold war he's started with himself might be worse.

Total and godlike control of his own Psyche means nothing if he can't stop himself from splitting anyway. His Thirds know what he does, and they're horrible like him too.

Phobos, the Green Heart, is the distillation of what Eris thinks makes him different to other people; acting and ingenuity, sure, but also a casual disregard for their wellbeings and a violent streak. His impulsive, or intrusive, thoughts.

Deimos, an Orange Mind, is what Eris believes the world wants him to be; a pencil-pushing pushover, dull and boring and content with mundanity. Deimos might be calculative, but that's in the literal sense. He's a calculator, with about as much personality.

Nemesis is where it gets interesting. This Teal Soul isn't needed to pretend to be him at all, not really. He's less so Identity, and more... self-hate. Sure, Eris intended for him to be an embodiment of social pressure/"cringe culture", yet all that's done is make his Soul even more viscerally self-aware of the futility of this all. Nemesis was built to hate. To hate what Eris wants to be-- to be critical, never-pleased, and cynical. By god does Nemesis fulfill these criteria. Because-- well-- what is he supposed to do? Not hate this? This insufferable, useless war? These two tumours Linked to his thoughts? The fact that him hating at all is decreed by Eris, and he's playing his role perfectly? So he hates, quietly. The other two overpower him, and Eris uses him again and again and again for the things he himself doesn't want to do.

What a cheery quartet!!!

The delicate balance of Whole and Thirds was disrupted by their additions to the chat. Entirely sick of <making his Thirds> running Youtube content farms, Eris seeks a way to monetize this supernatural happening. Mixed with his total control of his Psyche <due to being his Psyche>, it's a recipe for something finally interesting. Eris is more of a filmmaker than a songwriter, and to create The Perfect Story is his goal. If only it was that easy. Pretending to be nice and helpful in chat, in order to lure somebody over, did not go very well at all. Neither did exploiting the phenomenon of his self-duplication; the fact that sending constructs from his Psyche is literally sending chunks of his Psyche, i.e., him. If they're in the right shape to walk and talk and think like him, well, they do! Eris clones 3 and 4 both met separate grisly demises.

Why? Long story short, they're filled with assumption goop, and if Reality questions that too hard, it becomes real goop. They melt. This is what happened to 3. 4..... got beheaded. By Nemesis. OOPS! Turns out the breaking of the pattern gave the Whole-adoring Heart and Mind enough grievances for Nemesis to convince them to murder him. And thus ended a doomed attempt at coexistence. The following month unsupervised screwed up Eris' life, too, on his return. Punishment only made them hate him more, and now it's all collapsing...

Now, desperation makes men do terrible things.

This is all a very quick summary of the Negatives, of course. Feel free to ask for clarifications! I might even respond in-character... Toodles for now!

[mollymauk-teafleak]

now we're partners in crime

Some more Huskerdust! I just wanted to write something fluffy and happy for them, huge thanks to @minky-for-short for being a wonderful beta!

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3! <3

-----------

Angel Dust is no stranger to the morning after. In fact, he's pretty much a professional.

And he has to admit, he's had worse in his life when he wakes up with a bitch of a hangover, in a random hotel and next to his boyfriend, Husker.

Though when he puts together the pieces of the night before, he realises they did something very, very stupid.

-----------

With all the things to dislike about living in actual fucking hell, the decor probably shouldn’t have been as high up on Angel Dust’s list as it was. But he’d argue there wasn’t a sin invented that deserved the punishment of opening aching eyes to a hotel room with a white and gold color scheme. 

Starting from his now burning eyes, Angel’s body parts checked in one by one, each one with its own minor disaster to report. His throat felt like sandpaper, his head throbbed like someone was playing the drums on the inside of his skull, his stomach turned over at the mere thought of moving. In short, he had a bitch of a hangover. 

“Fuck…” Angel groaned, screwing up his face and sinking below the surface of the blankets. 

His brain was a fog, making every thought a lurking, malformed danger. He was going to be late to the studio. He’d look a mess, the cameras would pick it up. He couldn’t remember any lines. Valentino would be furious, he’d smell the debauchery on his skin and know he hadn’t caused it, he’d try to drown it out with worse just to prove to Angel that he was the only person allowed to ruin him. He was in so much fucking trouble…

Something brushed his leg under the covers. Angel’s first impulse was to pull away from whatever loser his spiral of self destruction had landed him with, get dressed and get out before he even saw his face, like having it in his memory would be just another reason for Val to hurt him. 

But then that something wound its way around his leg and suddenly Angel remembered. The two years collapsed and he saw the panic rising for what it was, a bad memory. Like the two dimensional backdrop on a soundstage, as soon as he knew where to step he was past it and back in the real world. 

Angel ignored his churning stomach and rolled over, so he could see him. Really the snoring should have been his first clue, no one else Angel had ever shared a bed with snored like that, rattling and rumbling like a clapped out Chevy whose exhaust was barely hanging on. He looked as hungover as Angel felt, whiskers crushed against the pillow, smudges of lipstick in a very familiar color streaked across his face, somehow still wearing his suspenders even though he definitely wasn’t wearing trousers. His tail still looped around Angel’s leg, reaching out for him even while the rest of him slept. 

Husker. Still the loser Angel’s spiral of self destruction landed him with but also the one who’d pulled him out. 

He had a fantasy of leaning in close, smoothing down that wild bedhead and waking him with a kiss. Reality kicked in, however, before he’d gotten more than two seconds in, reminding him about his apocalyptic hangover. 

He took a screeching turn towards the bathroom instead, hoping his legs would get their shit together quick enough to get him there without falling on his face. Despite being clean for two years now, Angel hadn’t lost his touch, he made it in time to vomit what felt like the whole bottom shelf of a bar into the toilet. At least that meant his eyes were shut so he didn’t have to look at the equally tacky bathroom. 

“Fucking hell…” Angel groaned, once his organs had stopped trying to eject themselves from his body, slumping so his forehead rested on the seat.

“Okay, you remember where you are, that’s a good sign.”

Angel opened one eye, scoffing at Husk as he leaned in the doorway, somehow already holding a glass of water for him, “Funny…how the fuck are you able to stand up, I seem to remember you drinking as much as I did?”

“Vegas born and raised, baby,” Husk chuckled roughly, passing him the glass, “I promise, I feel like a corpse, I just know how to keep a poker face..”

Angel washed his mouth out, trying to follow that memory like a thread, figure out what most of last night had involved. It had been a while since he got this drunk, since he’d had a morning after not tinged with the clawing, hollowed out feeling of a come down or a heavy dose of shame. He found it was actually pretty pleasant when the hazy, disjointed memories you sifted through were full of good times with people you cared about. 

If you could ignore the whole feeling like death warmed up thing. 

“I remember drinking a lot,” he rasped, draining the rest of the glass and gaining a little ground on his hangover as he reward, “I remember dancing on tables. I remember karaoke…and not a lot else.”

Husk perched on the edge of the tub, wincing as he did, “Same here. So it sounds like we did exactly what Charlie told us to do, we enjoyed our weekend off. Right up until we woke up, anyway.”

Angel massaged his temples with a couple of hands, “Where even are we? I mean, I know we’re in a hotel but this place ain’t our Charlie’s particular brand of tacky. There’s no banners for a start.”

“We’re on Sinners Strip,” Husk answered without missing a beat, looking around like a detective surveying a crime scene, “Somewhere on the west end by the looks of it…The Fanged Flamingo, I think. You’d have to be fucking blackout drunk to wind up here.”

It was hard not to be impressed. Sinners weren’t allowed to hop from ring to ring, of course, but they brought their vices down to Hell with them, clinging to them like life rafts. The Pride ring they called home had ended up divided into neighborhoods, each an oversized shrine to whatever sin had bought their residents a ticket down below. Sinner’s Strip was the Greed ring in miniature and Las Vegas on crack so of course Husker knew every building along its length in intimate detail, enough to recognise what casino they were in through a blinding hangover. 

In fact, his territory had probably been here, back when he was an Overlord. 

Angel winced, feeling like an idiot as he realized too late that they’d woken up in Husk’s equivalent of Valentino’s studio, “Do you wanna go home? I can get my shit together real fast?”

Husk’s expression softened just at the asking, tapping his claws on the tub’s edge as he thought, “You know…I think I’m okay. Don’t get me wrong, I know there’s tables down there, I can hear them. I’d be lying if I said no part of me wants to go do something real stupid…but then the rest of me says well, if I did, I wouldn’t be here with my man, would I?”

“So instead you’re gonna do stupid things with me?” Angel tried to joke lightly, like that would hide how misty his eyes suddenly were. 

“That’s the plan,” Husk leaned in and kissed his forehead, grinning, “Sap.”

Once Angel Dust would have pulled him down, turned that soft gesture into something heated, something open mouthed and involving teeth. He would have been panicked by the adoring ache in his chest, he would have felt foolish that he couldn’t form it into words and instead turned it into the only language he knew how to speak back then, pushing himself at Husk and begging him to take his body as payment. 

But now he knew better. This wasn’t lust, it was love. And love could be something small and not mean any less. It would fit in any box, gentle gestures and few words. 

“I just love you,” Angel Dust grinned, “That’s all.”

“And I love you too,” Husk smiled, “So take as long as you want. Then we’ll go scrape the girls up, wherever they are, and hit this diner I remember a couple blocks from here. About a thirty percent chance of getting food poisoning but their breakfast sandwiches will have your hangover begging for mercy.”

“I like those odds,” Angel let himself be pulled up, just about managing not to barf again. 

For a moment, with his hands- all four- in Husk’s, standing there in the bathroom with his head spinning, Angel had a flash of a memory. He remembered spinning, lights blurring around them, Husk dipping him and kissing him in that way that drove him wild. He remembered joy bursting in his chest, that kind that was so strong it actually hurt, like his body was struggling to find room for it all. 

Whatever they’d been doing last night, it had been really fucking good. Angel had to smile, his mouth tasted faintly of vomit, his hair was a mess, his head still contained an amateur percussion band that needed a hell of a lot more practice but this morning after still cracked the top ten. 

The room might have been tacky but the bed was soft enough, especially when Angel Dust rolled to pillow his head on Husk’s chest, grinning when he felt him purr and a paw come up to stroke idly down his spine. A hand went searching for his phone, finally snagging it amongst the blankets, along with his panties from the night before, a lipstick that wasn’t even the shade he was wearing and a crumpled piece of paper he ignored. If it was a receipt, he didn’t want to know how much money he’d blown on the food he’d just hurled up.

Angel flicked the screen to life, reassured by a recent text from Charlie that looked like it was trying to say goodnight and that they were in a room on the floor below, once he read around the drunken spelling mistakes and emojis, “Come on then, detective, let’s investigate. What the fuck happened last night…”

Husk made a vague noise, already one foot back in sleep, his purrs starting to blur into snores. Angel rolled his eyes fondly, starting to thumb through the fuckton of unfamiliar photos that had appeared on his phone since yesterday. 

Things started how he remembered, how they usually did. Charlie gave them nights off pretty regularly but it was rare for her and Vaggie to join in. Angel had been wheedling and wearing Charlie down for months, insisting that it wasn’t a real bonding experience until everyone tagged along, that she worked as hard as anyone and deserved a break too. At first he’d been doing it because he’d suspected- and been proven correct- that she’d make a hilarious drunk. But eventually he had to admit it to himself, he just wanted to see her relax once in a while. He saw her literally taking the weight of other people’s souls on her shoulders, putting every sinner in hell ahead of herself. Angel knew he’d never be able to fix everything for her but a margarita and some karaoke every so often could at least take the edge off.

So for the first time, Charlie and Vaggie were there in his photos. They’d started at the Broken Halo, one of the safer nightclubs not too deep into the Debauchery District. Angel smiled as he saw their night in stages, watched him and his friends dissolve into sloppy grins and flushed cheeks. There was Cherri laughing at Charlie’s expression of post-shot disgust and panic, a photo of himself taking full advantage of the pole the bar had, nailing it even though Husk’s thumb was taking up a corner of the screen, a photo of Nifty crawling on the ceiling and somehow not spilling her drink.

As he kept going, the photos lined up with his hazy patchwork of memories, gaps getting filled as pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. Angel could remember the walks in between clubs, cold night air but a pleasant buzz to keep him warm, laughing so hard his ribs ached. And always, Husk’s claws curled around his fingers or his wings stretching out to cover him when he noticed him shivering, grinning when Angel caught him tapping his foot to the music. He could remember sinking gratefully into a blissful, loose limbed oblivion, not because it was his temporary escape but because he felt completely and wholly safe. Husk was his anchor, Husk would look after him. Husk was his way home, a home he actually wanted to go to.

One thing wasn’t adding up though, a tangle as he strung thread between these memories. With the clubs these photos seemed to be taken in- and Angel prided himself on intimate knowledge of every place in the Pride ring that would serve him a drink- they’d stuck to the fringes of the district, in spitting distance of the hotel. The garish hotel they were currently coming back to life in wasn’t even in the same district, they’d gone out of their way to come here and wince at tacky gold accent pieces. Angel just couldn’t figure out why, he didn’t see what had brought them over to the Fanged Flamingo. 

Until he flicked to the next photo. 

Angel sat bolt upright, eyes wide. His stomach would have protested if it was still there, it seemed to have dropped a few rings down. Husk did though, giving a grumpy trill as the spider demon jerked out of his embrace. 

“You gonna barf again?” he mumbled, eyes still closed, “Just stick your head over the side.”

“No,” Angel Dust groaned, though he couldn’t be a hundred percent certain on that, “Husk, we did something really, really stupid last night.”

“What else is new?” he did drag himself upright and force his eyes open, hearing something in Angel’s voice that spoke of more than just a mile long bar tab or joyriding. 

It took him a moment of wincing and groaning to be able to look at the bright phone screen suddenly pressed into his hand, though once Husk realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened, “Oh…oh shit…”

The photo was clear and properly lined up, so it must have been taken by Vaggie who’d stayed relatively sober the whole night. Angel and Husk certainly weren’t, their eyes were glazed, their smiles bright and faces creased with an unrestrained delight that only came when alcohol had dissolved the walls you were used to putting up. Angel was being carried the cat demon’s arms, in serious danger of being dropped but he clearly couldn’t give less of a shit, two of his arms wrapped loosely around Husk’s neck. And the other two holding a handful of limp flowers, probably purchased from a gas station they’d stumbled across, and a piece of paper. Fuck knew where he’d gotten the length of lace he was wearing as a veil (or the one knotted around his thigh), Cherri had probably swiped it from someone’s washing line. Husk was already dressed pretty appropriately, with his hat and bow tie, his smile so wide he looked like he belonged in Wonderland. 

Between that, the shower of ripped paper frozen in the air and the blaring neon sign that said ‘chapel’ behind them, it didn’t take someone who wasn’t hungover to work out what happened. 

Angel found it again, the piece of paper he’d tossed aside and thought nothing of. He smoothed out the folds and creases, unsurprised to find a certificate apparently from the Fanged Flamingo 24-7 Wedding Chapel, registered trademark. It didn’t look legally binding, Angel wasn’t sure legal documents used bright pink font or had a crude logo featuring two flamingos going at it. But the rubber stamp across the top said otherwise, proclaiming the two signatures across the bottom legally married. 

His heart gave a reflexive ache at the sight of his signature, making him think of the last time he’d scrawled Anthony on the dotted line, all the misery it had brought him since. This should have felt the same, a reckless decision he’d made when he wasn’t in his right mind, he should feel that familiar acrid burn of regret. 

But he didn’t. Angel looked at his name, at Husks, his own handwriting swooping and flamboyant, Husk’s scrawling and hurried, he looked at this silly, kitschy souvenir certificate and the promise it meant. And all he felt was that memory of joy, except this time he saw where it was supposed to fit and it joined him in the present. He remembered the kiss, how they’d had their first dance on the chapel steps to music that only they could hear, how Husk had swept him up into his arms just as Cherri had thrown a handful of torn up flashpaper as makeshift confetti, that moment now frozen on his phone. 

Angel Dust just felt like he’d come home. 

But a low, guttural moan from Husk poured cold water on his awed smile, “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Angel bit his lip, realizing the cat demon had his face in his hands and shoulders hunched. Where he’d been delighted, Husk looked absolutely devastated. 

Trying not to sound like a black hole was opening up in his chest, Angel tried an airy laugh, “Hey, baby, it’s okay…”

“No,” Husk pinched the bridge of his nose, ears lying flat, “It isn’t, shit…fucking cheap whiskey, always turns me into a goddamn fool.”

Angel swept a hand over his hair, using his years of experience in painting over his emotions and acting like he didn’t care, “Don’t get your tail in a twist, Whiskers, I’m sure we can walk it back. Pretty much everyone who gets hitched there has got to be blotto, they’ll have an impaired judgment clause or some shit. I ain’t gonna slap a ball and chain on you…I mean it’s ridiculous. The idea of me being someone’s missus, what a joke, right? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Wait…” Husk’s head snapped towards him, bloodshot eyes wide, “You think I don’t wanna be married to you?”

“Well…you haven’t seemed so ecstatic since you found out…” Angel said warily, pulling his knees to his chest, “It’s fine, I get it. I’m not marriage material.”

One of the good things about having a boyfriend with ears and a tail was how Husk’s emotions were impossible to hide. Angel was good at reading people, it was part of his job and part of how he’d stayed alive in Hell, people’s faces were like books to him. And Husk was a picture book with those thick cardboard pages and twenty point font, as his ears shot up and his tail dropped in dismay. 

“I am the biggest idiot in the fucking seven rings,” Husk rasped, realisation stark on his face, the expression of someone who’d just realised they were about to drive off a cliff.

Angel couldn’t help a giggle, lifting an eyebrow, “Okay…I mean, I love you anyway…”

“I love you too,” Husk took a deep breath, like he was preparing for that plunge, finding as many of Angel’s hands as he could gather up in his own, “And, fuck, if we were human, if we were back up on the surface, I’d have been down on one knee the second I realised you’d actually have an old hag like me. I’m only…I’m only mad at myself because I didn’t want it to happen like this…”

Angel felt suddenly breathless, “You mean you’d thought about this before? About marrying me?”

It was hard to see under the dark fur but Angel was sure Husk’s cheeks were burning red, squeezing his hands, “Fuck, baby, of course I have. And you deserve a hell of a lot better than a goddamn Vegas wedding where I probably didn’t even propose right or say half the shit I’d wanna say. It just…it just ain’t gentlemanly.”

Angel felt laughter bubble in his chest, swallowing it down hard. It was all just so damn cute, he forgot sometimes that while he was from an earlier time, Husk had spent longer in the past, that he was more of an old fashioned romantic than he’d ever admit. 

“You don’t get treated right by so many assholes, Angel, and I can’t do a damn thing about it, I just…I always dreamed about doing this differently for you.” 

Angel Dust swallowed hard, feeling that ache again, trying to find a place to put the love he didn’t know he’d been built for. He drew Husk gently down, until they were lying nose to nose, limbs tangled comfortably together, finding a way to fit. 

“Well then,” Angel murmured, burying his fingers in soft fur, setting them to stroke delicate feathers, “Ask me.”

Husk finally met his eyes, uncharacteristically shy, “What?”

“Ask me the way you wanted to, say all the things you wanted to say. I’ll give you my answer here and now, Husker, and you’ll know I mean it,” Angel could feel how hard the cat demon’s heart began to beat, his own picking up to match. 

Husk opened and closed his mouth, the words struggling to come at first. Angel Dust understood how he felt, the fear that came with getting something you never even thought to want because it always seemed so out of reach.

But his Husker was braver than even he knew, his voice coming soft and raspy, “Anthony. After I died, I thought I’d finally found a way to be more than the loser nobody I was when I was alive, everything that made me a shitty human suddenly gave me the power and success I thought I’d always wanted. When I lost it all and had to sell my soul, the only way to keep my sanity was to tell myself I didn’t give a fuck anymore and just drink until I believed it. When I met you…I was fucking terrified. Because I wanted you. I wanted you bad, you were bright and brave and so damn strong. I never expected you to let me in but you did and I fell so hard for you, baby. You’re the first thing in hell, fuck, the first thing ever that made me want to be better. After the shit you’ve been through, I have no clue how you trust me when I say I love you and I’ll do right by you but I’ll never break that trust. And to prove it to you…will you marry me, Anthony?”

“Shit…well how the fuck am I supposed to follow that act?” Angel Dust managed to croak out after a long pause, all of his eyes streaming tears, “Feel like my teeth are gonna melt from all that sugar…”

“Shut up,” Husk’s smile was sudden and warm and brilliant, like the sun Angel remembered from up on the surface, tears making silvery tracks on his cheeks, “Just answer me.”

Feeling like words might not be enough, Angel cupped Husk’s face and kissed him deeply, left with barely any breath to whisper, “Yes. Fuck yes. I’m so glad we did it last night cos I wouldn’t want to wait another goddamn second to be your husband.”

“God, I love you…” Husk kissed him again, pressing him close like he couldn’t bear a spare inch of space between them, purring like a chainsaw. 

“I love you too,” Angel sighed contentedly, “Can’t believe I had to die to find the man of my dreams.”

“Even though our wedding was kinda trashy?”

“Oh, sorry, did you not know we were trashy? Hi, my name is Angel Dust, nice to meet you, can I suck your dick?”

He would have been happy to let the words fall away then, to say the rest with their shared laughter, with his tongue and his hands and whatever other parts they had time for. The way Husk was stirring under the blankets, he seemed to agree but there was one thing he wanted to do first. 

Angel found his phone again, flicking through the photos again, unable to resist another look. There were more past the first one too, shots of them dancing, of Husk dipping him in a deep kiss, of Angel throwing his gas station bouquet directly at Vaggie’s head in one of his less subtle moves. Photos of them, of their family, of one of the best nights of their lives. And, as he kept scrolling, ones showing how their hotel room had gotten so wrecked. 

“Woah,” Angel Dust grinned, “You’re definitely stuck with me, baby, annulments off the table for sure. We consummated the fuck out of this marriage.”

“Damn,” Husk purred, kissing his shoulder, “Didn’t know I could still bend that way…”

“And you will again,” Angel smirked, finally opening the camera, “In a minute…”

He held out the phone, pulling Husk into frame, smiling for the camera and smiling even wider when Husk kiss his cheek as he took the photo. As soon as he dropped it into the hotel group chat, along with the message good morning from the happy couple <3 he received a buzz of delighted messages from their friends, all thankfully alive. He’d save them all alongside the photos to look at again and again, over the breakfast they’d all share once they’d dragged themselves out of bed, the next time he had to go back to work and needed to lift his mood, whenever his addictions reared their ugly head. Whenever he needed to remember the best day of his his afterlife. 

There was a lot to dislike about living in literal fucking hell, tacky hotel rooms being one of them. But there was nowhere else Angel Dust would rather be.

[problemnyatic]

mythologizing abuse as this horrible thing that only evil, malicious Abusers do to Innocent Victims is a really, really dangerous way of thinking. You have to recognize that anyone is capable of causing harm, and that it is possible to address it and improve as a person after hurting someone.

This idea that harm is an Evil Act that comes from Bad People, or makes someone a Bad Person is a black and white framing that makes it incredibly difficult to actually address harm, and actually winds up protecting abusers.

Because that's just not how it works. It's not an accurate model of reality. So subscribing to it gives you some dangerous blind spots; you won't be looking for signs of abuse or harm from someone you believe to be a Good Person, and the people around you are very likely to be afraid to actually communicate with you when a line is crossed for fear of being made out to be a Bad Person.

Abuse is something you do, not something you are. It has nothing to do with who the individuals are, it's a description of the impact certain kinds of actions have on someone else. The idea that believing something bad or doing something hurtful defines something intrinsic to the person in question creates an environment where it is impossible to grow or change into someone who no longer does those things or believes those ideas; you've condemned that person as someone Inherently Bad, what's the point of trying to improve if nobody will give them the benefit of the doubt?

And, more to the point of what I want to get across here, thinking like this is unbelievably stressful. It puts you on constant eggshells forever - cross the wrong line, and you mark yourself as A Bad Person, someone deserving of punishment, vitriol, rejection, every and any hostility one might see fit to throw at you. It's fucking terrifying, you wind up believing that any mistake could be your undoing, that you have to do no wrong, have to convince others that you've done no wrong, that you're a Good Person, not someone who hurts others.

But that's the thing. Nobody's perfect, it's impossible to be. You can't know everything before it happens, you'll never have all the context for something before having to make a decision. Inevitably, you will cross a line, violate a boundary, realize something you were taught about the world is actually bigotry, and that you never questioned it until now. And you will have to reconcile with that. You need to be prepared to face that reality, again and again, at any moment, for the rest of your life.

Far more often than anyone wants to admit, abuse isn't a product of malice or hatred, it's a byproduct of someone well-intentioned who for one reason or another has a mental block keeping them from prioritizing someone else's needs and wellbeing as necessary. They behave in ways that hurt and shut down their victim because they can't wrap their head around the fact that that's what's going on, that they're hurting someone. Or if they do, they don't believe that there's a way to avoid it, or fix it, or change.

The mythologized model of the Evil Abuser who hurts the Innocent Victim because they're a Bad Person is more likely to create that exact kind of mental block than it is to protect anyone from harm. It makes every mistake the end, a personal apocalypse that collapses the situation around your feelings rather than addressing the harm done. It's dangerous.

Let go of the idea of Good People and Bad People. We're all just people, and we're gonna hurt each other sometimes. It doesn't need to be anything more than that. You can apologize, and try to change. You can be imperfect and still worth loving. If someone asserts otherwise, that says more about them than it does about you.

[drbased]

godddd I really need to come up with good phrasing to describe how capitalism is ideology made manifest with reality. like someone 'being poor' is both a factual reality but also something entirely metaphorical - a symbolic and ideological category ascribed to them.

the best word I've come up with for this is that capitalism 'naturalises' power structures. women choose lower paying jobs, we're told, because idk the category of woman just includes the neutral facet of having a lower paying jobs. capitalism is obsessed with the idea of competition and those who buy into it believe that competition under capitalism produces the most societal progress, and they refer to competition under nature - but only in the most linguistically simplified metaphorical terms. the whole concept of 'meritocracy' is that idea that power structures are at their most natural and healthiest and best for society when upheld through capitalism. monarchies are enforced by the state, but capitalism is just a reflection of nature, so if anyone 'makes it' then they naturally deserved to make it - they have won the game of life and naturally deserve the spoils.

it's actualy really psychologically bad for all of us that we're encouraged to view the entirety of reality, our selfhood and humanity included, in these bizarrely metaphorical and symbolic terms. we ask someone 'what do you do' when we meet them, under the practical understanding that our jobs make up the majority of our lives, but also the underlying ideological implication that our jobs are our lives - and demonstrably this is not the case. the vast, vast majority of people around the globe view work as something they need to survive - and that survival is also predicated upon this entirely symbolic concept of money. and we're taught not to give people money or resources because that's giving them 'handouts' and 'society would collapse' without competition.

capitalism is an entirely self-referential closed-loop of ideology affecting reality which is then used to enforce ideology. you construct a system where everyone has to do machignabob in order to get fingidoos, and then punish people who do not have enough fingidoos, suddenly machignabobs and fingidoos become 'real' - and as we're a social species, we start valuing people with better machignabobs and more fingidoos, and soon enough these things become a replacement for reality; a metaphorical narrative layer where meaning of fingidoos is more important that the meaning generated through simple human perception of those starving to death. it's an absurdist comedy, beyond parody itself - and so naturally parody can be absorbed within it: congratulations, you made a parody that appeals to the masses! ignore the positive feedback: what ultimately matters to your sense of self worth and social status is that this will get you a lot of fingidoos. making parody of the system is your machignabob now: this is who you are.

[mistralxsoul]

Planned Starter for @bravewolfvesperia

Flynn should have been more prepared. He should have seen the warning signs. Yuri had never liked the vision orbs and even warned him that he would be projected up there one day, for all to see. Flynn, at the time, had quickly requested a change of topic at the time because the idea of Yuri being branded as a criminal was too much for him to handle at the time and he told himself he had more faith in Yuri than that. Yuri was genuinely a good person. He would never ever end up like that. 

But then Captain Aegis from the kingdom of Medegal had been condemned for the crime of trying to run away with the Queen and then murdering her. Flynn knew instantly that it was a false crime. While he didn’t know the circumstances, he knew Aegis. Not on a deep personal level but he had plenty of interactions with the man and had even come to respect him and his convictions. He was loyal through and through and Flynn knew he would never betray the kingdom he served like that. The entire kingdom, from what he had seen, had held Aegis up onto a pedestal as the perfect knight. And within the hour, the entire world had turned their back on him.

If it was that easy for the world to turn their back on someone so cherished by the kingdom, he didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if one of his own appeared on that screen. They wouldn’t stand a chance. The world would gladly condemn a rat from the Lower Quarter with no second thoughts. The idea of it was terrifying.

That idea became reality and it was worse than Flynn had ever imagined. 

Yuri Lowell. Accused of killing an innocent man in his own home in an attempt to rob him. That was the explanation that appeared along with the recording from the vision orb that night. Flynn had been on patrol in another town entirely, having been in the middle of a trip at the time. He remembered his blood running cold when he saw the face of his childhood friend– his best friend– appear on the Vision Central. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away, couldn’t even speak.

The story was spun by the man’s adult son who had come across the killing. He had rambled on about how Yuri had snuck in and had been caught trying to steal from the man’s coffer. When he was caught, he went in for the kill. If there were any protests for Yuri from the recording, Flynn didn’t hear them over the sounds of judgment that soon erupted from the people around him (Had he protested? Had he fought the accusations? Flynn wasn’t sure. Surely he did… he did, right?). 

The Vision Central had never sounded so loud before and then after Yuri had been condemned and the recording showed the Enforcers appear on the screen, the recording died and Flynn wished that he had died along with it. Even after leaving Sodia in charge of the Squad so he could try and get back to Zaphias as fast as possible, when he returned to the Lower Quarter, he was too late. And when he nearly collapsed in the middle of the Lower Quarter, he barely registered the tearful voices of Hanks and the other residents as they helped him back to his feet.

Word was that the transgressor that killed that poor man had managed to escape the enforcers but the common opinion had been that it wouldn’t be long before that dirty criminal was caught and punished. Flynn learned that any move to try and defend Yuri resulted in the people nearly turning against him and the Lower Quarter and they soon learned to keep their mouths shut and keep their heads under the radar. 

That was the hardest part, Flynn believed. At least, right under Yuri just… no longer being there. Yuri being gone and not knowing what truly happened. Not knowing if he was still alive out there but knowing that if he was, he would never be able to come home to him ever again. He knew that Repede had run off with Yuri but the fact that Repede hadn’t come home showed that maybe… maybe Yuri was still out there somewhere. If not… then… it was safe to assume that Repede, too, was… Yeah, Flynn didn’t want to finish that thought either. 

It had been a month since then and the days did not get any easier. Flynn doubted that they would, honestly. He and Yuri had been inseparable since they met and they had been through the worst of it together. They were a part of each other and now, with Yuri gone, that part of Flynn was gone as well. He just… no longer felt like himself. All he had now was that fake mask he had to wear at all times, following the strict protocol he had set up for himself in his head. 

Follow orders, don’t argue. Don’t get angry. Do his best to smile and be polite. Earn favor with the higher ups so he could rise through the ranks and change this rotten system. Never let his true feelings show as the nobles will be sure to latch onto the smallest sign of weakness and tear him to shreds. He had to remember this. Especially knowing that he was all alone now. 

At least, he thought so. But then… he receives a report that catches his eyes, causing him to hold in a breath without realizing it. The Vision Central in the middle of Zaphias had been destroyed. There were very few witnesses but the few who had been around had mentioned seeing a man and a dog leave the scene soon after it had been destroyed and Flynn’s chest held a tiny spark of hope. 

He decided to follow this trail, ordering his knights to keep investigating the broken Vision Central. He knew they would have to investigate a way to repair it but that damned thing could stay broken and could burn for all he cared. 

He knew he shouldn’t just assume that this person was Yuri but if a suspicious individual that was a stranger to Zaphias had wandered into the city and destroyed the Vision Central, he would have been found a lot easier in a city this big. No, whoever had done this had managed to find the best way to not be seen by as many people as possible. And no one knew the backpaths of the city as much as he and Yuri did. 

So, Flynn found himself traversing through the alleys and shortcuts that he and Yuri used to run through when they were kids and teenagers growing up together in the city. The paths weren’t well known so he didn’t have to worry about someone spotting him as he hurried down the pathway, taking random turns that he and Yuri had committed to memory. 

And just as he was about to reach the end, just as he was about to doubt that he was simply chasing after a ghost of a man he would never see again, he turned the corner and was met with the sight of a retreating form of a man with long hair that Flynn would know anywhere. The dog that trotted along his side stopped suddenly and whipped around with a growl but the growl stopped short when he saw who their follower was. 

Repede’s ears lower as he whines and Flynn could only take a deep breath and he hates that his voice cracks just slightly when he calls out to the other, just overwhelmed by… by everything. 

“Yuri. …Were you planning on just leaving Zaphias without even bothering to try and find me?” His voice breaks because there’s no room for doubt anymore. This was Yuri in front of him, clear as day. He was alive. He was alive and Flynn wasn’t sure if he could cry from relief or anger that the man was trying to leave without a single word to him. 

[champagneand-strawberries]

He loved me too (D.M)

Sequel to ‘Thank you for loving him’

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Every memory of him was tainted with betrayal. So why did her heart still stop at the sight of him. And why did she still want to save him?

Warnings: Swear words. Mentions of suicide, death and violence

Words: 2.3k

A/N: The pacing of this is so weird im v sorry. This was so hard to write though, I didn’t know whether to include the battle or time skip idk. She is very description heavy bc I hate writing dialogue but I really wanted to write a reunion so here you go. 

Everything had changed.

She supposed everything had changed that night, as she was staring at the body of Dumbledore struck dead at the foot of the astronomy tower. She supposed it was then that the world started to crumble around them, with their only protector dead and Harry Potter missing it appeared there was nothing left to do but stay alive.

The letter had stayed tucked away in her trunk, far from the prying eyes of anyone who might rifle through her things looking for a reason to crucio her. For once being a Slytherin had its perks; even if the rest of the school still despised the colour green it was the one thing that offered her an ounce of protection against the cruelty of Hogwarts’ new dark professors.

With Snape as Headmaster and the Carrows running free it was a wonder anyone was still choosing to be alive. She awoke every morning, dreading the day to come. The castle was no longer filled with laughter and joy, instead it was filled with pain and anguish. It became an unspoken rule to not mention the tortured cries of the younger students coming from classrooms or staff offices, instead everything went ignored for fear of receiving the same punishment.

Defence against the Dark Arts was the worst. Having since been renamed to Dark Arts, the use of dark magic spells had become almost a daily occurrence and Amycus Carrow believed that they were best practiced on other ‘disobedient’ students in order to teach them a lesson. Eventually the screams of students as they twitched and contorted on the dusty floor faded into background noise and with every unforgivable curse that left her lips and the tip of her wand, she reminded herself of what it would mean if she refused.

Maybe everyone else has it easier.

If a Gryffindor refuses, it’s expected. If a Ravenclaw refuses, who cares. If a Hufflepuff refuses, they are weak anyway. If a Slytherin refuses… They are a traitor. If a Slytherin refuses, they are to be made an example of. If a Slytherin refuses, they should hope death is kind to them for the Death Eaters will not be.

…

“Harry Potter… is dead.” His voice echoed around the broken courtyard, only overpowered by Ginny’s scream as she was held back by her father. In that moment she knew they had lost. He was their last hope, the only one who could have done what so many others had failed to do. Voldemort’s voice faded into white noise and her vision blurred as she staggered slightly, her legs failing her as she collapsed to the ground.

She could feel her chest heaving as she clutched onto her clothes, the fragments of rock around her; anything to ground herself as she felt herself slip further and further away from reality. Then suddenly, a pressure on her shoulder before something black blocked her view and a hand tilted her face upwards.

Draco.

She could see his lips moving, muttering words to her but everything was still ringing in her ear until she felt his lips pressed to hers for a split second before the warmth of him left as quickly as it had appeared.

She watched as he slowly walked across the graveyard of the Hogwarts she once knew, her chest heaving from the battle that had since ceased. Her eyes barely focusing as Voldemort wrapped his arms awkwardly around the boy she once loved.

The boy she still loved…

Their words still rung in her ears, the memory of that night reliving itself over and over again as she watched his mother pull him into her arms, Lucius Malfoy cowering slightly by their side. Her throat burned as tears filled her eyes, blocking her vision once more as she tried to regain any semblance of a reality that wasn’t this one.

The screams and shouts from the students surrounding her, however, were the thing that managed to bring her back to reality. Forcing herself up onto her feet, she looked across the courtyard searching for the head of platinum blond hair she was so desperate to see. But instead, she saw something infinitely better.

Hope.

Hope in the form of Harry Potter darting across the courtyard behind the archways lining the halls, throwing hexes blindly behind him to block the barrage of spells coming from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. She fought against the rush of students heading inside towards the great hall for cover, away from the rage of the battle on the grounds outside. Her eyes finally caught a glimpse of long white hair in the carnage and knowing that Lucius wouldn’t be far away from his son in the midst of the battle, she ran.

Death eaters had begun to disappear the moment Harry rolled out of Harry’s arms, only those closest to and most devoted to Voldemort had stayed by his side, the rest had run far from his perilous clutches to save themselves from him.

Unfortunately, the most devoted were also some of the most experienced and with every step she took there were twice as many curses that the few death eaters left hurled at her with as much venom and power as possible.

Hexes and forbidden spells flung from wands on every side, the threat of death looming closer and more threatening than anything the ministry could conjure up. She ducked and stumbled her way across the courtyard, eyes dancing frantically across the rubble for a glimpse of the platinum hair she had run for before. Only now she had no sight of it. No sight of the Malfoy family. Not Narcissa’s ducked head as she led her only child away from the battleground. Not Lucius’ pitying frame as he stumbled after his wife and son. Not the boy she loved under his mother’s arms as they took themselves away from everything their trust in the mighty Lord Voldemort had led to. 

Suddenly she was flung to the ground, sharp rocks and pieces of debris tearing through her shirt and into her skin as her body tumbled over itself and rolled through the remains of the castle. Then, white hot pain like never before surged through her body. The screams echoed throughout the edge of the courtyard as she twitched and shook on the floor, driving dust and stone further into the gashes on her skin. 

She vaguely saw clashes of green and red light from behind the mound of dirt she lay behind before it suddenly stopped. 

Everything stopped. 

The light. 

The pain.

She thought she was dead. For a split second, she hoped she was dead. That relief would have been easier than coming back into the world she resided in. In the corner of her eye she saw a flash of black as a death eater apparated away; then came the pain again. 

Her body ached as every muscle twitched and relaxed over and over again and her throat felt as though it had been ripped to shreds from the screams. Her jaw and neck covered in spit and bile from dry heaving the moment the gods granted her mercy enough to breath. 

If this is karma, I deserve it tenfold. 

To think, this was the curse she inflicted on children. Innocent children whos only crime was to want something better. To want to live better. To want to live without fear. And yet, she had given them plenty to be scared of. 

Suddenly, the same light as before lit up the remains of the walls of the courtyard above her. Green and red battling before her very eyes. She watched as the green faded into the red and, as before, it disappeared once more. A faint whimper the only indication of anyone behind her. 

“Harry.” Her voice hoarse and quiet.

Rolling over she pulled herself across the floor and between the rocks, enough to peer around to see the victor. Eyes welling up at the sight of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, stood before the body of Voldemort, covered in black cloth, in the centre of the courtyard.

“We won.” She whispered, pushing herself onto her knees, still weak from the effects of the cruciatus curse inflicted on her before. 

“Draco!”

... 

There he was. Finally, after what felt like hours, she had finally found him. Nestled between his parents in the remains of the great hall, the three of them tucked away in the corner away from the harsh glares from those who weren’t tending to the wounded or crying over the loss of loved ones.

She stood, staring at him. Allowing herself to mull over every single thought rushing through her head: angry, then sad, then happy; all before the cycle repeated itself over and over again. Losing herself in her thoughts her eyes closed, flashes of him appearing as memories flooded her thoughts so strongly, she swore she could smell him from across the room. Forcing her eyes open she was fronted with black. Specs of dirt covered the fabric of the suit she lay her eyes upon, the marks smeared into the stitching where someone had tried to dust it off. Travelling upwards she saw the chain of the necklace he always wore peaking underneath the collar and then there he was.

He looked much the same. The sharpness of his jaw, sloping up to his ears. Then the slight roundness of his cheeks, covered in dirt and scratches. The curve of his nose, leading to his piercing eyes. Only now they seemed softer, rougher, and sadder all at the same time. Her hand reached up to trace his hairline, up to his forehead where a hex had caught him, leaving a scratch, following the bloodstains down to his chin where she rubbed her thumb across his faint patch of facial hair. Her eyes never met his, and yet his didn’t leave her, watching her every move and willing her to stay despite his betrayal.

They stood there, ignoring everything. His parents. Her friends. The staring. The silent whispering. Then suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the Great Hall.

People ducked and fell to the floor, unsure whether it was death eaters back for a final round as revenge for killing their Dark Lord. Those who didn’t opened their eyes to see Draco Malfoy on his knees in front of her, clutching his cheek as she stared where his face was in front of her. His father was up in an instant, beginning to storm over to where she stood before Narcissa grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked down at her confused, as she shook her head and gestured over to Draco still on the floor. She ran her hand down his arm, grasping his hand in hers as they watched their son climb to his feet, not even bothering to dust off his trousers as he looked at her.

“I’m sorry.” Those two words were the only ones he could think of to even try and redeem himself from the mess he had put himself in, and they seemed to capture her attention perfectly.

“I’m sorry that I left you. Th-that I didn’t tell you, but it was only to keep you safe. All of it was- everything I did was to keep you safe.” He stuttered over words, pausing mid-sentence to catch his breath before stumbling over his words all over again. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, watching as he flinched slightly in anticipation and closed his eyes.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me because I can’t even find enough words to say I’m sorry but please… please just know I never- had you have stayed in the bloody bed maybe it wouldn’t be like this and for god’s sake will you say something!” His eyes snapped open at her silence. Mouth open ready to counter whatever she was going to throw at him, instead he saw her. The corners of her lips tugged upwards into a small smile; her eyes filled with tears as she reached up her other hand to rest it on his other cheek.

“I don’t know if I could ever forgive you Draco. But I do know that I never stopped loving you.” Draco’s hands reached up to grab her own, brushing his thumbs across the back of her hands down to her wrists as he traced the skin he had not touched in so long.

“That’s all I can ask of you.” He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his face into the crook of her neck as he surrounded himself in her, his nose buried in her hair as he clutched onto the fabric of her clothing.

Not enough time had passed before they were interrupted. Draco opened his eyes to the shadow of his mother stood beside them, her eyes moving between the two of them.

“May I speak with you?” Her gaze looking to the girl stood in Draco’s arms, hands folded in front of her as she waited patiently for a response.

“I- Yes of course.” She began to uncurl herself from Draco’s hold, who seemed reluctant to let her go. “I’ll be back soon my love.”

She followed Narcissa out to the bridge overlooking the valley and Black lake where they stood against what little remaining wall there was left, listening to the wind whistling and pushing small stones across the paving beneath their feet. 

“My family has been through hell these last months. I don’t doubt you have been through something of a similar nature, but I want you to understand that I will do anything for my family. Particularly my son.”

She looked over at Narcissa almost cowered under her intense gaze.

“The love you gave him before... I suspect he will need it now more than ever. But I need to trust that you are willing to give him that.”

She looked back at the scene in front of them, eyes following a bird as it launched from a treetop and flew over the valley.

“You thanked me once, for loving him. But he loved me too. And for me, that is enough.”

[theoutcastrogue]

Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives Episode 7: The Outlaw

Outside the law

“We like to think of the story of the outlaw as a black and white tale of goodies and baddies. The reality was less clear cut. During the Middle Ages the very notion of what an outlaw was changed dramatically and so did the legal system the outlaws sought to avoid.

In Anglo-saxon England, people had been accustomed to administering the law themselves, a sort of neighborhood watch. But with this big difference - you could make money out of it. You see, the Anglo-saxons weren’t particularly bothered about punishments. What interested them was victim compensation.”

“Back then to be declared an outlaw was a fearful thing indeed. People then lived in small, self-regulating communities, and to be excluded was like being sent into exile. Worse, an outlaw was a wolf’s head, someone who could be killed on sight. They were forced to live a life on the run, outside normal society.

But in 1066, England became an occupied nation. A legal system that depended on the cooperation of the conquered with their conquerors was simply not going to work. So the Normans introduced certain legal refinements such as collective punishment and trial by battle.”

“If that was Norman justice, the Normans could keep it. Well, that’s what many Anglo-saxons seemed to think. And they chose to be outlawed rather than stand trial. By 1150 the whole legal system had collapsed so Henry II totally reinvented it, developing a legal process unique to England which put power back in the hands of the local community. Trial by jury.”

“With people rushing to court to sue each other [even] over hedge clippings, more and more people were failing to turn up to trial and consequently being outlawed for non-attendance. By the mid-14th century, almost everybody seems to get outlawed at some point in their lives. It was no big deal. It was a bit like having your credit card refused.”

Into the forest

“A forest was simply wherever Forest Law applied. It was policed by an army of royal officials who ruthlessly enforced the draconian penalties for poaching imposed by the king. Richard I set the penalty for killing deer as removal of eyes and testicles. In lots of ways the deer of the forest had more rights and privileges than the locals who lived around it.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons why the Robin Hood stories were so popular. They celebrated a time before the conquest when the forests were a place of freedom. Since the Normans, the forest has become a place of repression and brutal punishment. But once people had been free to hunt and gather wood here and that was never forgotten.”

“The story of Robin Hood wove together the myth of pre-conquest freedom together with the later myths of chivalry and knighthood. The English actually celebrated being a land of bold robbers.”

The Rogue adds: The episode also tackles: prisons, sanctuary, litigiousness, execution methods, and the complicated relation between gentry, robbers and knights (in any combination). The whole series is hilarious, and mostly accurate. I’m also very fond of the Knight episode.

My only comment is that celebrating your bold robbers is hardly an English peculiarity. And while outlaws’ legends are often influenced by a warrior culture of some sort, said warrior culture need not be chivalry. This is a widespread phenomenon that can be found in all corners of the earth, from China (Water Margin) to Brazil (cangaceiros) to Australia (bushrangers) to the Balkans (hajduks/klephts and so on) to right next door (rapparees).

[sugxrslushy]

ᴅᴀʏ ᴠ || ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ

🩸ᴀ/ɴ: requested by @tardiiart my loveeee!! super excited because I got an excuse to write for Robin and decided to go with my favorite one and write her when she worked for Baroque works, I hope you enjoy this ahhh <33

🩸ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: NSFW MINORS DNI//Robin x gn!reader//warnings: Dom!Robin, edging, pegging, bits of praise, misuse of devil fruit, punishments

“Oh come on, there’s no need to cry dear.” Robin tuts under her breath, petting your hair before tangling her fingers in your locks to pull your head back with a sharp tug. Yelping loudly, you can feel your eyes become more glossy by the second as you squirm against her. Her plump lips ghost over the shell of your ear, the brim of her cowboy hat bumping against you. “It’s not like this isn’t your fault.”

Robin thrusts forward sharply, her strap burying itself inside you and you jolt forward with a gasp. You dig your fingers into the hard wood of the desk, fighting to keep yourself up and standing as your legs shake uncontrollably. “M’ sorry.”

“I know you are sweetheart, I know. But a punishment is a punishment.” She whispers against your skin. You knew she was right and you had never been opposed to these types of “punishments”. She was so pretty and you were grasping at straws for any sort of time around her, any sort of physical touch and this was a dream come true. You tried your luck and didn’t come up empty handed but instead you were struggling to grasp your orgasm.

But your heart was bleeding with joy at the situation you found yourself in. She’d been all you could look at since the very day you’d met her, so elegant and put together. You wondered just how well she could take care of you, what she’d look like underneath all the the steely facade and the pretty purple outfit that showed off all the right parts.

It’d felt like hours had been ticking by, Robin knew entirely too well on how to make you come undone. It was almost like her devil fruit wasn’t sprouting other limbs but instead knowing every spot that had you sobbing out, although her devil fruit was doing an excellent job picking you apart. 

It was almost overwhelming, the feeling of her being everywhere was making goosebumps rise on your skin. Hands stroking over your chest, fondling with the flesh there and taking your sensitive nipples between delicate fingers, rolling them and making you scream as a blinding pleasure builds. Another hand clamps over your mouth and Robin clicks her tongue, stilling her movements. The touches to your more intimate parts have disappeared as if the click of her tongue was a call back to reality, the wet dream slipping through your fingers.

“What did I say earlier?” Her voice is silky smooth, despite its underlying intentions it’s laced with the sweetest sugar you could ever be met with, you could almost taste the sweet nectar of her words on your tongue.

“Robin-” You whine out, your brain mush from how many times your orgasm has escaped you. Her hand comes up to tilt your chin towards her, hypnotically blue eyes boring into your sole. You’re clenching around her tight, heart thrumming in your chest with a nervous excitement. 

“What did I tell you to call me?” She says slowly, lips curling up into a smile.

You could collapse to the floor right there, she had you wrapped around her fingers so nicely. She’d been so sweet to you ever since you had first joined Baroque Works, a higher up who’d taken you under her wings. You adored her and every part of you yearned to follow her command. “Miss.” You whisper. 

Miss All-Sunday. How couldn’t you fall in love with her?

“You’re so good, so smart my dear.” She lets go of your jaw, dipping down to press kisses along your neck as her hips rock back around yours. You let out shuddery sighs, relishing in the sweet ecstasy she gave you. “Now what-” She snaps her hips forward to punctuate her word, strap pressing deep and you swear you saw stars. “Did I tell you earlier?”

It sits on the tip of your tongue but the consistent snapping of her hips keeps knocking it from your mouth, instead whimpering and whining as you cling desperately to the desk and drool slips from your mouth. “Y-you told me I- ah! I can’t cum!” You grit your teeth and whine under her unforgiving pace.

“Until?”

“Until I’m good and y-you say I can.” Your knees buckle and you fall down against the desk, Robin leaning against your back as she finally slows, favoring long and deep strokes instead. You can’t control how loud your moans are, a hand no longer at your mouth to silence them and you can’t imagine how much trouble you both would be in if a certain someone were to overhear this.

Her hair tickles your shoulders when she leans down to kiss your shoulder blade, hands sliding across your arms to interlock her fingers with your own. “Are you going to be good so I can make you feel nice? Because I wouldn’t want to have to start all over again.” 

“Yes!” She could be asking you to do anything, no matter how obscene or absurd and you swear you would’ve listened to her. Maybe your brain was finally becoming mush, the only coherent thought was one of lust with how bad you wanted her to fuck you with all she’s got. It only becomes worse when she laughs and tilts your head again to kiss you on the lips, the threat of you coming completely undone all the more real. 

“You’re just too cute, let me make you feel good then.” You can feel her pick up her speed again and all your resolves are beginning to disappear, letting yourself be pleasured by the women above you. 

[msweebyness]

Class of Heroes AU: Worst Experiences w) Bustier

I know I said I might take a break, but my brain refuses to comply! This is based off an old post by @artzychic27, which they were nice enough to let me use the concept for! These are a lot of the kids’ worst experiences with the “amazing” teacher, Caline Bustier. She is Flora in this AU, the ‘kindest and wisest’ of the good fairies. She believes she is always right and lives in her perfect little bubble world, just like in canon. 🙃 She’s a sh*t teacher there, and being a high-ranking magical authority figure has only made her worse here. She’s a huge reason that around 70% of the royalty and aristocrats at this school believe they can do whatever they want to whoever they want without getting punished! She builds up their egos and gives them special treatment, punishing those who don’t go along with their whims. Feel free to leave thoughts and ideas, as always! (Still thinking of options for Lila and Felix) And credit to the aforementioned artzychic27 and @imsparky2002 as always!

Marinette: Outed the secret that she was never supposed to be at the school in front of everyone while berating her for her clumsiness and lack of social grace, humiliating her.

Adrien: Ridiculed to the point of tears in front of the entire class and forced to change when he came to school with a tiara on, his hair braided with flowers and in a violet flowing long shirt that could resemble a dress at first glance, told to stop acting so feminine.

Alya: Also Reduced to tears from a verbal attack in front if everyone when she came into class late and dissheveled because she had to leave work later and there was heavy traffic, and it was POURING RAIN. Despite the fact that she had called beforehand and gotten clearance.

Max: Yelled at and given two weeks of detention for ‘refusing to help’ his fellow students, which was the story she got from said (royal) students, when in reality they had been beating him up for refusing to do their homework, and the evidence of the violence was CLEARLY visible.

Kim: She’s had him suspended for a week on three different occasions, all originally meant to be expulsion, first for stepping in to defend Max in the aforementioned incident, the second was for damaging school property (He pulled a jammed door off its hinges when a fire broke out in the lab so the students could get out). The last was when he punched a prince who, with a few of his buddies, had cornered HIS princess for refusing his invitation to a ball, forcefully kissing and groping her. (Ondine was upset and crying for hours, but nothing was ever done to punish the boys responsible, despite her being a princess. Misogyny, folks, how ‘bout it?)

Alix: Taken out of class by police and accused of numerous counts of theft, got threatened with charges and jail time despite being a minor with diagnosed kleptomania, who RETURNED WHAT SHE TOOK.

Ivan: Insisted that he carry all the class’ luggage for a grade-level trip into the bus as punishment for ‘threatening’ his peers (He was defending some younger students from some older (royal) bullies.), when (as he and Mylene told her) his back pain was on the far more severe side due to his medication pending a refill, and he ended up collapsing outside the school. (No, she didn’t call for help. She also refused to let Denise or Kim help him despite both offering multiple times.)

Mylene: Forced her to sit through a ‘Parent’s Day’ event that included one-on-one time with her stepmother. Yes, THE WOMAN WHO TRIED TO KILL HER MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE PAST. Insisted that Mylene needed to ‘stop being petty’ and that ‘family means love and forgiveness’.

Juleka: SHE HAD A FREAKING MUZZLE PUT ON HER WHEN SHE WAS HAVING A PANIC ATTACK. She claimed it was ‘for the safety of the other students’ as Juleka was ‘behaving aggressively’.

Sabrina: Gaslighted and guilt-tripped her into singing the song from her old puppet show (the one she still has nightmares about when she was a part of) for a school event, and told her to stop being ‘dramatic’ when she had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the performance.

Nathaniel: Magically erased his entire sketchbook as punishment for him repeatedly falling asleep in class, despite it being a side effect of his curse, which she of all people should know.

Marc: Actively tries to keep him from using and improving his magic, always ‘gently’ reminding him of how dangerous ice magic is, just look at what happened to his poor little brother. We wouldn’t want that again, now would we? She’s also had him locked in a room alone as punishment for losing control. (She DOES NOT care about trauma.)

Zoe: Stood up to Chloe and told her to do her own chores in the main hall, taken aside and harshly scolded for not adhering to and ‘being kind’ to her sister.

Ondine: Refused to allow her to leave class when she was literally SUFFOCATING because a spell-gone-haywire (A spell that reversed any magic-induced physical changes. It also affected Sabrinocchio.) by a disgruntled student temporarily restored her gills and SHE COULDN’T BREATHE, stating that it was ‘improper’, because she couldn’t communicate what was wrong and Bustier wouldn’t listen when the class tried frantically to tell her.

Kagami: Refused to let her enroll in any of the battle or heroism courses due to her being a princess, and humiliated her in front of an entire courtyard of people by berating for not conducting herself ‘as a princess should.’

Reshma: Said and did nothing as her grandmother scolded and even STRUCK her for ‘shaming the family with her behavior’ and daring to defend her giftless younger sister from the woman’s verbal attacks.

Jean: Yelled at in front of the entire school for being a ‘spoiled brat’ and a ‘poor excuse for a ruler’ when he was focusing on a show he was putting together and forgot a small royal gathering.

Denise: Has been suspended multiple times for (accidental and inevitable, with their abilities and strength) destruction of school property, but the worst was when Bustier got them expelled for accidentally breaking Adrien’s arm and collarbone, in the process of SAVING him from a falling oak tree during a nature class outing for their grade level. She claimed they were far too destructive, violent, and dangerous to remain in the school. (*Cough*”Bad Guy” Bias*Cough*) (The decision was reversed due to Adrien insisting that they had saved him, proved though a memory display spell on multiple students, and the fact he was able to heal himself almost immediately after.)

Cosette: Publicly and harshly berated for ‘holding up the rest of the class’ when some fans wanted autographs and pictures during a school field trip. It was only a few people and Cosette had tried to make it as quick as possible without being rude.

Ismael: Had a pair of magical shackles placed on him when his power was flaring up rather badly**, completely ignoring the PTSD from previous finders of his lamp that this gave him. He had to wear them for a week.

* She forces Nino, Aurore and Lacey to fold their wings down so they don’t ‘Distract’ other students, despite it being IMMENSELY painful for younger fairies to do this as those joints aren’t developed yet.

*She actively talks down to any students who are not human or fae like herself, acting as if they are intellectually inferior and require extra guidance and redirection.

**Genie magic is incredibly strong, especially when it’s not restrained. Be careful not to say the word ‘wish’ within earshot of Ismael unless you’re a friend, directly speaking to him for that reason. It triggers his magic and if he didn’t hear you correctly, things could get…weird.

Basically…Bustier sucks.

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: BioShock (infinite I guess? Idk some time during Atlas was around)

Character: Atlas, Irish twat

Pairing: Romantic for Atlas, altho darling would theoretically not like them.

Type of Fic: a short. Plot being, darling tries to escape Atlas again (who wouldn't the dude is nuts) and he cements his craziness by giving her a lobotomy (like in the game) as punishment. Whether he finishes the surgery or not is up to you, all I know is that you can theoretically survive a lobotomy. Or not, idk I ain't a doctor

I'd love to! I watched the cutscenes with Atlas in them for Infinite and I'd love to write something similar to that!

I had to do lobotomy research for this fic-

Change In Mindset

Yandere! Atlas Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Manipulation, Failed escape attempt, Kidnapping, Lobotomy attempt/Punishment, Forced relationship, Sadism, Violence, Torture mention, Murder, Sexism if you squint ig, Blood, I kept the Lobotomy scene vague and not detailed because I hate the idea of it and I was cringing the entire time, Put the image under the read more as it could be a triggering gif.

Traversing Rapture alone was a dangerous feat. Splicers roamed everywhere and actively hunted each other down. Rapture was a collapsing city consumed with conflict.

To you, the idea of hiding from Splicers like some street rat in a sunken city was better than going back to Atlas.

Ah, Atlas... a revolutionary leader against Andrew Ryan's tyranny. In reality, the two weren't all that different. If anything you found Atlas a bit more sadistic and cruel than Ryan.

Atlas was also your lover. You wish you could say he wasn't... but he was never too keen on the idea of letting you go. You had become an item with him on a whim, he's charismatic and has such a way with convincing people.

When you got closer to him you realized the truth of who Atlas was. He wasn't a charming leader, it was an act. He's cruel, manipulative, and willing to kill and torture to get what he wants.

That very same Atlas tried to be sickeningly sweet with you. He called you his girl, his doll, his lovely lady.... The very same mouth that hurled insults and threats towards others... kissed you with passion and complimented you.

He's a charming monster. One who metaphorically chained you to him to keep you as his. You had no doubts he killed and tortured for you... just so he can keep his claws in your flesh.

There was a certain point you couldn't handle being beside him anymore. His kisses and hold were always too rough. He made you do what he wanted, regardless on how you felt.

That look in his eyes screamed possessive. He always looked at you with hunger as he held you. He scared you... sometimes you feared he'd kill you.

You escaped... you ran the moment you sensed danger within the man who claimed to love you. The Splicers were not much better but with some stealth you could probably survive, right? In all honesty... you had no idea where you were going to go after this.

Escaping Atlas was simply a dream. Ever since his whole crew had been sunk by Ryan, you have been stuck here. It's like you were in a cage, really.

He'd find you at some point... there was no doubt he was looking for you now. You knew he'd never let you go willingly. In fact, many of his thugs swarmed this area.

You felt like everyone was your enemy. Think of your situation, a young women lost in a city that's falling apart. Her lover being a cruel tyrant for "the people"....

Being caught was inevitable. You could only run for so long. As much as you wanted to ignore the truth, the truth would slam back into your face.

Just like the wrench that collided with the back of your head.

...

By the time you're able to regain your bearings, you're strapped to a chair in a familiar room. The lights blind you and your head throbs painfully like a rhythmic drum

This looks a lot like... the room you and Atlas would frequently stay in? You can't think much without the back of your head ringing in pain. You shake in your restraints, trying to pull them off.

Only to stop when the shape of a hand grips your chin.

"Don't move, doll, it'll only make it all hurt a lot worse."

The tyrant rears his deceptively charming head.

"Atlas...."

"Now where were you running off to, little lady? Needed some fresh air? You know it's dangerous without me around...."

You stay silent, what were you thinking....

"It hurts, really. To think you'd run away from the one I thought you held so dear. Luckily I had one of my men carry you in..." Atlas then leans forward, grinning. "Of course, he hit you rather hard, so I had to correct that by slitting his throat. You aren't getting off easy either, love."

"You really are going to kill me, aren't you-"

"Kill you? I could never. I love you too much for that..." Atlas leans forward to kiss your lips teasingly before pulling away. "I would never kill my doll... however, a man has to correct his lady's behavior, right?"

Your heart drops to you stomach when Atlas turns away only to come back with two tools. A metal spike, and a mallet. Your eyes shakily trail from the tools to his disappointed face.

"I thought you'd be a good girl and listen to me. I guess not... which is where these come in. Normally a doctor would do this but I'd rather do it on you myself, my love."

He pushes your head back and aims the pointed tool near your eye socket. You shake and tell him 'no'. He doesn't listen.

"This is a lobotomy, my dear." Atlas hums, pushing the tool closer.

"You could say it will correct your behavior. I always felt you've been a bit too rebellious for my liking."

You feel the tool starting to prod its way into your skull. Atlas grabs the mallet and grins while blood flows down from your eye.

"How about we change your mindset, love? I promise to be gentle...."

You scream for him to stop... he ignores you and taps the mallet on the tool lodged in your skull.

----

You felt like you lost a part of yourself after Atlas took you in. In fact, you literally did. Atlas had removed a part of your brain. Some memories from your past were replaced with what felt like blank holes.

Your emotions... were nearly non-existent. Apathy was all you ever felt. Actually... you felt quite hollow.

Atlas didn't seem too upset about it. In fact, he felt it was deserved. Running away deserved punishment... now you wouldn't run away. Now you had to stay by him.

Atlas still kissed you and said he loved you. Even though he mutilated your mind beyond repair, he simply used it to his advantage. Now you were just like he had wanted you.

You were like a doll that listened to his every word. You never showed much emotion afterwards. That only allowed Atlas more control, which kept him happy.

"It's such a shame I had to change you like this, doll...." Atlas murmurs, kissing you once again while holding your cheek. "But if I'm being honest... I like that you no longer fight me with anything now."

He pulls you closer, combing his hands down your back.

"Now you won't run... you won't even rebel..."

Atlas holds your chin upwards and meets your distant gaze.

"You can just be my girl... with none of the added fuss, right, love?"

He kisses you once again, but you don't react.

[fantasyinvader]

I think there's something to how Houses deals with trauma that bears discussing. It's not just that a character's trauma serves as a justification for their actions, more an explanation, but there also seems to be something about how dealing with other peoples' trauma is addressed.

There's Edelgard's trauma, and the implications that it's been used to manipulate her into rejecting the teachings of the Church and starting a war by her abusers. There's Dimitri's trauma dealing with Duscur and the injustices he's seen. Claude's trauma stems from being othered his entire life and Fodlan not being the enlightened land he hoped it was, with killing his brother added to Hopes to push him over the edge.

But the game doesn't present their actions in a good light. Edelgard is still the villain while Dimitri, while seen as a folk hero for his actions, is suicidal while Claude's prejudice lead to the collapse of the Alliance if left unchecked. Ferdinand says this following the Gronder battle, with extra dialogue added for Verdant Wind.

Ferdinand: Dimitri, the late prince of Faerghus. He despised the Empire with all his heart. He should not have tried leading an army while his emotions were holding him captive. (Byleth's responses are "leaders are people too" and "Leaders can't be emotional?") No. If a leader's emotions overcome them, others must step in to prevent poor decision-making. Why did his followers not intervene? His attendants? I used to call Edelgard my leader, and now she is running amok. I am duty-bound to stop her.

It really calls to mind that the people around the leaders need to challenge the leaders on their decisions, not blindly follow. It was people that blindly followed Dimitri in his emotional state that led to the fall of the Kingdom, with Ferdinand's comment putting Edelgard on the same level. And when you think about the recruitment mechanics, how characters will abandon their countries and leaders to follow Byleth, recruiting characters could be seen as an extension of that. Conversely, look at how unrecruited characters act fighting Byleth. In most routes, it upsets them whereas in Safflower they're angry at Byleth for joining Edelgard. They're calling out Byleth's decision and try to stop them.

But going back to the recruitment of the other characters, with the Black Eagles's they can't bring themselves to support Edelgard after the events of White Clouds so they leave the country, the Kingdom has no clear leadership in Azure Moon so they end up joining with the Church's resistance forces, while Claude's dislike of the Church has him attempting to remain neutral in light of what the Empire has done which includes recently starting to attack the Alliance. So while they all can abandon their countries, the reasons for doing so are understandable. Especially when staying with their countries and following their leaders results in their deaths at Gronder or becoming villains themselves. Golden Wildfire shows that Claude is not exempt from this, while I think the game was trying to make Dimitri continuing the war to punish the Empire after Azure Gleam was meant to be his failing.

The lords don't need enabling. Dimitri needed to be confronted on his beliefs that people died for him rather than for what they believed in, and how Dimitri needs to live for himself rather than living for the dead. Claude needed to work with those he hated and blamed Fodlan's issues on, letting go of his misconceptions and truly getting to know them in the process. Edelgard's issues makes it so that she only listens to and empowers those who support her, viewing everyone who doesn't bend the knee to her as an enemy while turning her head away from the reality she doesn't want to see. It's You can't help Edelgard because of it, it's why her path is meant to represent the opposite of enlightenment in the Japanese script, the best thing you can do is stop her. Just going along with the lord isn't going to help them, just look at Shez, instead they need to be confronted on their various levels of shittiness.

And there's just something to this I can't help but feel is rooted in the Japanese mindset. The stories you hear about how employees have to work to make their bosses and companies look good, adhering to the hierarchy in place and treating those above you with differance in spite of their shortcomings. Or just how the generational gap is really bad there because the young are expected to follow their elders despite the elders mistakes, a reason why there's a slew of media like Gundam about entrusting the future to the next generation. This feels rooted in the Silver Snow route, where Edelgard is the pawn of some really old fucks, but then there's Azure Moon and Verdant Wind, showing how helping other rather than leaving them to deal with their problems themselves (another staple of Japanese society and a barrier to getting mental help) can help them improve not just as a leader but as a person as well. Both these are messages people in the West tend to believe are universal.

So, yeah. This was just something that popped into my mind when I wanted to explore the effects of trauma on each lord and how it can turn them into a monster, in addition to how others can stop them from doing so or accelerate the process.

[achillesoul]

I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy at all, stop viewing me as the center of madness! Look around, finally open your hazy eyes! We are not alone here. Just because you've never heard the cries of bodies suffering under your shoes before, doesn't mean someone hasn't just lost a family member. Look, you are bringing destruction! Just by inhaling or by making a small movement you deprive the breath of a certain substance. With your thoughts and sins you create chaos in the souls who look at you from your unreachability. All existence infuses everything beyond our reach with destruction. The only thing you can boast about is selfishness and destruction. Your discoveries, more and newer and more extensive, lead to the destruction of frightened angels and distort the beautiful world and the laws of nature downwards, instead of pulling them upwards. How could you use free will so evilly? Convert, for heaven's sake! Beg while you can for Thanatos to spare your cold and dead skin with his kindest touch of death, beg and cry for the venerable Eleos to direct your further fate. Keep throwing your belief in mist, spit out doubts and pride, and swallow my prophecies as insults. Continue this journey of hell, cruelly disrespect what your wise mouths give you, until all creations of nature punish you. Until the deities you worship so badly will spit your prayers back at you, creating only gasoline and arson for your ignorant steppes. See what you've done? You create stems of decadent melancholy to grow flowers of pure and unbridled evil, even for the Creator, and even for the ruler of Thunder and the sky. Aren't you ashamed, thieves of freedom? How you must hate yourselves with such burning hatred and disgust that you are taking away your own privilege and wisdom. And yet you still assume i'm insane? Oh, of course you will. You will repeat it, call me crazy and throw my hopes into hateful flames, but you won't even dare to look deep into your own soul. Do you think I am blind to your passionate fear? I am also filled to the brim with bitterness as I gaze with alluring eyes at the decline of humanity. You lack the science to see what responsibility really is. Pretend that this is foreign to you and that you are only guests here, until your only living walls collapse in destruction, until the brutal claws of hell tear out your spirit, if you even still have one. Delay and delay further until there is no turning back, and when we all meet in the pearly springs of the crystal gates, you will repeat my words like a bead. This is how my name will be engraved in your thoughts, actions and neglect. By being afraid to know what is unknown, afraid to even look into the corners of your own existence, you reject the cognitive bond with the entire universe. This is how you transform reality into a daydream, and you will wake up only when Demeter falls into a peaceful forever dream.

I'm not insane. You are the ones who are insane. All I did was offer meager love and a helping hand for your troubled spirits.

[uroboros-if]

Hi, I'm the anon who asked this and I'm here to scream about my MC I am so sorry for how long this is gonna be

Okay, so I call my MC Pandora, I have a reason for it Now, the reason why I named my little MC Pandora was because of this line in the synopsis:

"Your investigations into a strange occurrence will lead you to know far more than you ever intended to, unravelling what may be the precursor to the collapse of the reign of gods…"

Which, to me, sounded a lot like the MC is opening Pandora’s box. Then I was like, “Wow, it would be silly If I named my MC Pandora, and throughout the story and her investigations, it’s like she’s slowly unlocking the box… wait-” 

Ok characterization, in the myth “Pandora’s Box,” Pandora has various characterizations, sometimes being seen as clueless and letting her curiosity get the better of her and opening the box. Other times being seen as cunning, knowing exactly what is in the box yet opening it anyways. I wanted both of these for my baby, a happy middle with a leaning towards innocent curiosity, knowing what's in the box and the consequences of looking into it but letting the curiosity win and then realizing just how grave the consequences actually are partway through, yet instead of giving up and closing the “box” she keeps going because of all that pent up and hidden feelings she’s had about the way she’s been treated her whole life. Because oftentimes, when we do something that has consequences that we know of, we aren’t exactly aware of how bad those consequences are for us and others around us due to our innocence and lack of experience along with the feelings he had at the moment, especially if they are negative ones. In the case of the game, the “Box” would be the investigation and the downfall of the deities; this is what I strive for in how I play as her in later chapters btw.

In chapter one though she’s still in that innocence, she has negative feelings about the other gods, but it’s not to the point where if she was given the option to bring down the gods or leave things the way they were, she would pick bring down the gods, no she would turn her head and choose to keep the things the way they were. Most of her negative feelings are directed towards Salvatore, she really doesn't want to dislike them, but they are everything she isn't, and that pisses her off in a way she can't describe, and it pisses her off when other older gods call them "childhood friends" when in reality they know nothing of each other and in childhood she was just tolerating their presence because their mom is quite literally the Queen of the gods and she'd rather not get whatever punishment is given when you upset her child or whatever. With Luciel, on the other hand, it seems to be a completely different story. She is extremely fond of them, being the god of the only thing that ever be considered something that can last for eternity, death. (unless I missed something and there is a reincarnation system that you plan to add later or something) And also the fact that they gave her a purpose and their generally calming presence (and ofc they're pretty, which helps a great deal with likability) She was always a little curious about Ciocana, always feeling a little... drawn to them in a weird way, maybe it's the similarity of them being outcasts, but she wants to get closer to them, especially after that dance they had. Oh yes, that dance. She had always been fond of dancing; however, she'd never had that much fun doing it before, and the timing was even greater when she remembers bumping into that other god and that nasty numbness she felt afterward. She wouldn't mind dancing with them again. She has always adored humans in a weird way; they basically stood against her whole being, with how short their lifespans were, yet... they made her feel needed in their afterlife, and she has always been happy to help with whatever issue they ask of and the fact that they went to her about it too (even though she's the only option) it makes her feel all warm inside, and I imagine they're the ones who introduced her to dancing in the first place. I don't really want to write much about her opinions on Alessi because they haven't met yet💀

Pandora typically dresses in a mix of all the human-era fashion because her job is so tightly associated with humans it's impossible for them to not influence her in some way. She usually wears Greek and regency-era-inspired clothing, light and airy yet beautiful.

Thank you for reading about my silly I love them, and they can and probably will change quite a bit throughout the chapters, and I genuinely cannot wait to see where the story goes, but yeah, all of this is just based off of the first chapter 💀

My reply in the read more 💕💕

Pandora is such an amazing name and works so well symbolically/narrative-wise!! 😭 Especially in a setting that starts out once peaceful and then thrown into disarray when the "Box" is then opened, unleashing unto the world everything bad... but also Hope! You don't know much about Alessi yet, but I feel this also defines their character arc as well! Perhaps you'll see 💕

Oh, and I love how thoughtful you are with how you feel about the ROs! I was definitely trying to emphasize how completely different people view Salvatore versus the MC, which makes for super interesting character foils to one another! Salvatore, the golden child, and MC, "everything they are not." Even with that description, they are defined in relation to Salvatore, rather than evaluated independently. To add salt to wound, people assume you are friends...

Haha, I don't think reincarnation is part of the plan--resurrection or rebirth is against the order of the world! I am glad Pandora has someone she likes, in spite of her negative feelings towards other deities. Luciel is just as fond of her. (... And thinks Pandora is quite lovely, too!)

But 👀 they're also a little curious about Ciocana? Maybe loners just drift to each other!

So interesting to have an MC who is inclined towards mortals and a little against deities, although she would still choose to keep things as they are! I imagined that's actually how I'd feel in MC's situation 😭 begrudging against anyone who mistreats, happy to be of service, and yet not so extreme as to want to participate in overthrowing the gods... for now! 👀

Ahh, and I love the bit about the fashion! 🫶 Those two styles are so lovely, you should send some images of what you think she'd wear!!

But thank you so much for going into such detail and being so so thoughtful about your MC! I am astounded by the level of thought you put into Pandora, and in just one chapter!! I am starting to think I have the most amazing readers 😭😭 everyone has such deep thoughts about the story and I want to meet all those expectations!!

You inspired me so much with your ask to give more depth to the choices in the future! So again, thank you so so much for telling me about Pandora, I adore her!!!! 🥺🥺✨✨ Please let me know more of your thoughts if you ever come up with more, or if things change, or... anything!! 💕 I would be so so excited to know!

[ragingstillness]

BUNGO SPOILERS

ok so I have Thoughts.

First of all, the anime going ahead of the manga I have seen before in other fandoms. Sometimes it meant that the plotline had been neatly wrapped up for the anime and the manga would diverge. Take that as you will

Fyodor is not dead. Come on. An arm? I’ve watched anime for too long to think he’s dead without a full body. Not to mention that an arm is particularly suspicious considering Gogol’s ability. Remember when he convincingly cut himself in half? He could very easily have transported Fyodor out of the helicopter and cut off his arm because he knew it’d convince Dazai

Speaking of Gogol, if Fyodor is dead I am robbed of seeing Gogol kill (or at least try to) Fyodor and that isn’t fair. To me.

Chuuya being a fake vampire? Checks out, sounds like some shit Mori would do. Sad we didn’t get to see him act directly in this episode but eh.

Chuuya’s teeth being glued in and him unable to get them out? I have literally had this exact experience trying to glue in vampire teeth for a Halloween costume once. I was picking glue out of my gums for a week it was awful

Tecchou and Kenji being alive? What I expected.

Jouno and Tachihara are still up in the air I guess

Poe’s book. Can it suspend death? Is Fukuzawa somehow not still bleeding out from being stabbed through the heart? Bsd hates medical science. Also does Poe’s book write stuff on command? I thought he had to deliberately write the story which would mean he was working with Fukuchi? I’m confused.

Ranpo being alive and healed? Makes sense but I wanted to see Yosano do it so I knew she was alive.

Akutagawa no longer being a vampire and being alive? THAT’S MY FUCKING BOY! Also his new medieval knight outfit is fucking brilliant and I want him to know it makes him look very sexy

Bram saving Aya. We all knew it but were glad to see it.

Bram having his whole body back when it got mentioned (at least in the manga) that he’d die if the sword was pulled out? I mean I support it but that feels like a plothole

Bram being Aya’s knight? Adorable, I want to see him adopt her. I want the adventures of the weirdly old adult who knows nothing of the modern world and the reckless kid with a good heart and an iphone

Whoever Atsushi and Aku are fighting? Unclear but it looks like it’s holding Fukuchi’s sword so maybe it’s the sword itself? He did say smtg about a legendary sword maker. I’d guess it was Crime and Punishment but it doesn’t look Russian enough

Fyodor’s Hebrew: excellent, we love to see it, last words of Jesus, that’s the good shit. Also irl Fyodor getting out of prison and living a better life vs bsd Fyodor getting out of prison and dying…idk where I was going with this anyway irony

The bullet not piercing the skull trick. Frankly was one of the ideas I thought of, not surprised Dazai’s a fucking cockroach.

Fukuchi’s plan. Naive at best but relatively good intentioned. I’m not ready to like him as a character and probably never will. Killing 500 people, how the hell could he keep it so precise? It’s also an interesting debate about the life of an individual vs the life of the collective, almost a trolley problem thing, curious to see how Fukuzawa decides about it

Not a fan of Fukuzawa crying. If I do not see it, it cannot make me sad

Fukuchi’s plan cont. changing reality with the book is the only way I can think of to make this plan even somewhat feasible. Without it the plan would collapse. Do you know how many wars would be fought just over who controlled One Order? Why can’t the original ability user use it? So many questions

One Order’s design: Soul-Eater-Kishin-ass-looking-thing

Can One Order even still control armies without them under control of the vampire ability? What about the seal on Fukuchi’s wrist that made him control Bram? The sword being coded to Fukuzawa’s voice? How???? There are so many questions around that alone

How does Bram undo the vampirism I want to see it?! Is Aku still injured when he is de-vamped?

Fukuchi said it was a U.N. ordinance about One Order. Is he aware not every country is in the U.N.? Also, if someone manages to launch and nuclear missile before One Order is activated it can’t exactly be deactivated. There are so many issues with this plan it’s like Thanos’

Where is the book???? I want to know????

So Sigma is just dead then? Fuck. And we still don’t get to lean what Fyodor’s ability does

Fyodor having vampire spies among the Mersault guards is such a cop-out, give me something cool like Dazai’s communication strategy

Strongest opponent after /that man/. WHO IS FYODOR TALKING ABOUT I NEED TO KNOW GIVE ME TOLSTOY OR GIVE ME DEATH!

I’ll probably add more thoughts as I have them but these are my preliminary ones