#and interviews and all that to make sure I captured details to describe ......

[floret-affini-research]

RESEARCH LOG 007

RESEARCHER M. Florez

AUDIO FILE DETECTED, LOADING TRANSCRIPT...

"Well, let's see if this thing will really work. This is Maria Florez, researcher on the relationships between the Affini and the Terrans they keep as pets. I am here interviewing an Affini on how they treat their florets, difficulties in ensuring sophont safety, and the daily life they lead together. I know I asked you before I began recording, but I need to make sure I get formal consent to record. Do I have consent to record you and include you in my research? This will include giving the details of your name and the names of the florets you have dominion over."

Oh but of course cutie. This is all so very exciting.

"Yes, quite so. In that case, please state your name for the record as well as the names of your florets."

Well, my name is Tritoma Iberis, Fifth Bloom, and these are my darling little pets Coralline Iberis, First Floret, and Blair Iberis, Second Floret.

"Hi! You're really really pretty!"

"I would prefer they not interrupt the interview if possible, I must get all this data collected properly."

I understand completely. Go along now my darlings, have some fun playing with each other~

"Hehe, ok Mistress! C'mon! Let's play some games!"

"Thank you. Now, I would like to start by asking you about what a typical day is like for you with your florets. Don't need too much detail, just wanna get a basis for understanding."

Well, on a normal day, my Florets will ask me to cuddle with them, to have my vines all over them as they squirm and moan~ They're so very cute when they do that~ I like to administer a Class-M for each of them so I can make them my cute little dolls~ Just thinking about it now makes me wish they could be here so I could give you a proper demonstrat-

"That is quite enough please. You have made it clear it is enjoyable for you, but do they truly find it as wonderful as you describe?"

Oh but of course! I would never do anything to harm them or do anything they wouldn't wish for~

"I see. Well, that is rather reassuring for my research then. Now, I'd like to move onto talking abo-

Are you sure it's just your research you're reassured about?~

"I'm unsure what you mean."

You weren't worried that if you decided to give into those wonderful little thoughts of yours that you would be at the complete mercy of a beautiful Affini like Ms. Verdianthos?~

"Wh-what kind of terran do you take me for!? I am here strictly on research, not to end up as some mindless dumbass pet to a damn we-"

What did you just say about my Florets?

"...s-sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want to talk about Verdia- Ms. Ve- the other Affini right now. I'm stressed about it and I don't want to think about her right now."

...I see. I apologize for my outburst, but I do not take kindly to anyone insulting my darling florets. You may continue with your questions.

"Thank you. Only got one question left anyway since I now know how you treat your florets. What can you tell me about the difficulties that come with ensuring a sophont is truly safe and taken care of?"

Well, we first evaluate the risks that the sophonts are in. We check for any dangers they can put themselves in and do our best to remove that risk as soon as possible. We then take the sophonts with us. For them to come willingly is preferable, but as you have seen, there are many instances where we have to use xenodrugs to ensure their safety.

"I see. What about once you have captured them? Is there anything that is normally done to keep them in check then? I can't imagine most are happy after being knocked out cold and waking up somewhere strange."

After they have had a chance to acclimate to their new environment, we simply take care of them with a combination of xenodrugs, our biorhythms, and all the love and affection we can give~

"This is very fascina- Wait, I'm sorry, I don't think I've heard that term before. You said biorhythms?"

Why yes! All Affini produce biorhythms that we follow. I have also heard that they are rather hypnotic to sophonts, particularly to Terrans. It helps in the domestication process and allows our darling Florets know we are always with them~

"...oh. Oh no. No no no no, this can't be it, right? I-it has to be some kinda joke or something."

Are you alright? You seem to be getting rather anxious darling, perhaps I could help you rela-

"Shut up! I can't be here any longer! If what you're saying is true, then I really can't stay anywhere near here any longer. I have to go, I have to- ow!"

Oh my, are you alright? Please, allow me to help you back u-

"Please! I'm fine, just tripped. I need to go, this has given me too much to think about. Take care Ms. Tritoma Iberis, and let your Florets know that I have taken my leave. Terminate audio recording."

[timmie-p]

Ivan Interview translation

Ivan, the Next CF Star

Just two months after his debut, Ivan was selected as an ambassador for the famous luxury brand Q. Ivan is the first non-native 'pet human' to become an ambassador for Q. "Ivan's stoic yet playful visuals are perfect for capturing the diverse appeal of Q," said Q's chief designer.

Ivan, who recently topped the Alien Stage live voting, is being touted as the next big CF star after Luca. He's been inundated with requests from designers all over the world who want to put ads on his outfits. He has already collaborated with nine brands, all of them big brands. The public's attention is focused on how his growing popularity will affect the Alien stage.

Interview

Since the third round aired, it’s become very popular. Are you feeling the buzz?

Alien Stage is growing in popularity every day. Did the crew recognise me during the CF shoot? It's funny because at the beginning of the show, there weren't many people in the world who recognized me, and now there are so many people that I can't get through the streets by myself. (Laughs)

You’re currently ranked #78, at this rate top 20 is possible, isn’t it?

Thank you for your kind words. I'd love to keep the momentum going and make it to the top 20, but I'll leave the choice up to the masses.

You have a lot of titles that describe you, right? Do you have a favourite?

My favorite is "Blocell's #1 Brand Reputation" from a recent article. It makes me feel like all those days of photo shoots and commercials weren't in vain.

What do you think makes you unique?

I can think of more bad things than good (laughs), but, um… I think the thing that fans talk about a lot is my partial fang. I think I have a normal face, but there are many people who remember me for my fang.

What’s your secret to getting the best shots?

The day before my schedule, I study the brand I'm going to shoot for so that I can clearly understand the directions on set. Knowing the brand in detail is fundamental as a model. I also think it's important to make it a habit to take care of my body.

What is your ideal girlfriend? Lots of girls around the world want to know!

I don’t have a specific dream girl, I’ve never really thought about it. If I were to choose one…. No, I don’t have one. (Laughs)

Are you close with Till?

What’s your definition of “close”? (Laughs)

We’re just okay. Mediocre at best.

Let me ask you straight up. Do you think you can beat Till?

I don’t know… If you could perform as wildly as him, you might win too, right?

Say something to Till, your next opponent!

…..Keep it up?

read it for your own here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ivan-interview-99972496

also i’m sure an official english version will be out soon i just like doing these lol

okay!!! i feel like vivinos is dropping red flags here but idk 🥺 ive already been theorising that ivan will be the one to lose and the audience here seems to support him too much..

i translated “힘내” previously as “Come on” in the snippet where till punched ivan but i think it makes more sense here to translate it as “Keep it up” (it’s just generally words of uplifting encouragement)

also for the part about his fang my translator translated that as “false teeth” and boy when i tell you i was confused 💀

also following up the question abt his dream girl immediately with a question about his relationship with till.. real subtle there… kinda makes me go uueeugguh tho

[joannerowling]

I think one of JKR's strongest suits, in both HP and the Strike series, is how she captures real people. All of her characters feel like people I could meet on the street or share a cup of coffee with. I can imagine what our conversation would be like. There's a lot I find admirable about her writing, but this in particular is something I appreciate a lot more now that I'm reading her as an adult. She seems to genuinely care about real people, which translates to her writing.

Yes, i admire that quality of her as well, especially because her characters feel real despite being… not exactly stereotypical but… easy to read, easy to sumrise. You can't call Vernon Dursley stereotypical because the details of him are so specific, but the details are all that's needed.

At the same time her physical descriptions are minimalist, only including what's useful for either plot or characterisation or (this one is more present in Strike) social background and education. If she were a painter she'd be a great portraitist, a fast working one.

And yes, to segue back to that one interview of Le Guin… sometimes those "portraits" of unpleasant imaginary people can seem a bit mean, because they feel so real.

One example is "Hartella" in The Ink Black Heart. Hartella is not the most hateful character in that book, but she is probably one character many tumblr users could see themselves in, as a "superfan" of a show, whose real name is known in the fandom due to being minorly involved with the production. She's an opportunist, neither smart or talented, she's needy and insecure, she's a very bad judge of character, a coward, lets herself be manipulated into hurting other people, easily joins in bullying to fit in, etc. She's also described as white, fat and unattractive, and having an annoying habit of ending all her sentences in a questioning tone even if they're not questions (subtext: because she's so insecure and unwilling to develop her own critical thinking, she can never make statements).

I remember a few readers took offense at her being described as fat and unattractive specifically. And yet… does this description not feel like a real person? I know i have met that specific girl online at least once for sure (in fact the resemblance is uncanny, down to the speech mannerism). I've known girls who partially looked or sounded like Hartella. I guess that can sting.

[skyepixels]

The Welcome Home Website!!!!! She is Beautiful~! And She Leaves Us With So Many Questions!

First off, I am absolutely astonished at how beautiful she is!!! Clown, Puzz, and everyone else has worked so hard and they've exceeded everyone's expectations with the site!!! What a wonderful little Home they've made, and I'm excited to experience it as a fan!!!

I know that everyone's combing through the new website update with a fine toothed comb so I won't be sharing anything we've already found. I don't think I've found anything new in the site that others haven't already found, but oh boy!!!! Does everything there only raise more questions!

What I do love is how all the audio files we've been given through the "bugs" has really shown what everyone's personality is like! I love every one of them, and the voice actors captured them perfectly! Oh and the little tidbits of history with the merchandise, the telephone calls, the little skits! Be still my beating heart~!!!

AND THE WALLY LIVE INTERVIEW. I CANT! It's sooo darn cute!! And Nick Nocturne (I know it's him, that interdimentional cat demon) as the interviewer was such a lovely touch! I cannot wait to hear about that from his YT channel!!! And Wally was so coy with the romance question~ and I think that's the perfect way to answer it for everyone who loves him! Keep it vague, let everyone make their own conclusions and be happy! (I know I certainly will for the time being, and will love him no matter what!) I am so curious about the underlying story here: there's so much to think about it's driving me crazy! They gave so much and answered so little! We can only theorize from here! So here's my little thoughts! None of it's cohesive in any way, nor does it really have all the details or tell full story yet, so just take it in sections if you decide to read it! ______

!~OBSERVATION TIME~!

I think that Wally, Home (And maybe everyone else, not sure) are trapped somewhere. Where exactly isn't certain, but very trapped indeed. My first indication of this from this response in the guestbook for Tayla (Page 8):

"eu não sei onde estamos" - I don't know where we are (A bonus for the multi-lingual side of things there, it makes me really happy to see it!)

I have no concept of what happened to everyone else, but from the little drawings he's made on the guestbook, he's constantly telling people things like "Oh, I'll tell Eddie." or "I'll tell Frank." these messages, but we never get a direct response from any other neighbor! It's always him talking! Just him. He tells people their responses, but we never hear anything direct from the other neighbors! The quick reference I can bring up is the hearts PNG in the guestbook for Kazoo:

itoldhim_hesaidhesflattered_idontknowwhatanyoneistalkingabout_.png I feel like those collections of audio clips with all the neighbors (1-14 to 14-14) are a recount of events throughout an entire day that previously happened that may give insight into what happened to Wally. I think this is the case based on the last audio in the list, 14-14 bh audio, when Barnaby notices Wally acting strange:

BARNABY: Yeah, yeah, real funny! A poor little guy like me deserves some sympathy! A clown without a kazoo is like… Like an artist without his paintbrush! Go on kid, tell ‘em! …Hello? Buddy? Pal? …Hey, you stopped paintin’. Everything alright, Wally?

Well, something happened there. Maybe a change in his psyche, how he perceives things - some strange realization that terrified him. Maybe he got angry at something. What it was? I have no clue.

Another addition that I think is interesting! Frank wrote to Wally describing the unusual bug he found. In the beginning of that letter, Frank says this:

"I know you would ask if you are here." Where is he?

The nature of how Wally and everyone communicates is so vague and weird! I think the telephones, the mail, the TVs - all these things are means of communicating, but there's no direct connection to us! Any time a phone call is made, they can't hear us. This I have inferred from the "It's for you!" Talking telephone toy! They can talk to us and we can hear them, but they can't hear us! What's causing this disturbance? That's the real bug here, and I'm clueless on what that means or how to break through the surface!

Most importantly! I think that Wally specifically trying to communicate with that one person on the WHRP team. That person... is experiencing a lot of heavy sh*t, because I think they remember Wally and the show. They're the closest person right now that's able to help him (either willingly or not!)

I also believe he's specifically working with that WHRP member because in the phone audio (the one you click on when interacting with the toy telephone on the merchandise page), he says:

"You have to go too. You have work to do."

From what I can interpret from the live interview, I think that it implies some semblance of back story! Wally did interact with people and the outside world during his prime in the 70s, when the show was really starting to pick up speed. He was calmer, more in tune with his character and fame. He was in character most of all, and I think being in character was a sense of identity for him that he could rely on!

But those secret audio files we hear from him now? He sounds desperate, like he can't breathe. He's practically breaking from his usual character. What did he realize? What does he know? All of those things boil down to this sentence:

"I will help you understand. I will find a way soon, Neighbor."

Wally (and Home?) are working away at a solution wherever they can I think that WHRP member is the key to that! (Although the methods of how they're doing it, i.e the black paint that apparently you shouldn't touch with bare hands, the mind-boggling phone ringing in that person's ears, the complete distortion of reality - definetely implies a few things.)

I also think that the highlighted in invisible ink is Wally's words throughout the email compilations and other documents! The one where he says "Im so sorry." - I feel like that's him showing some remorse for his actions there, but it's like a sorry that says "I'm sorry, I have to do this." kind of deal (which is... oof)

Also - quick note! Wally keep insisting on being let in, rather than being let out. "Let me in." - Let you in to where? Our world? Reality? Oh so many questions!!!

I also am curious about the WHRP staff too, and their interactions with the Question-Answerer, the Marlo company, the Playfellow Workshop! There's two sides to this story; the human side and the puppet one, and it's so multilayered here that at this point, I'm inclined to distrust what anyone on that website says until we know what's going on!

Lastly, I'm not certain how much we as viewers of this story are involved. While I believe that he's working to get that WHRP member to let him in, he does acknowledge us through the guestbook. Although, I don't think truly aware of how much we see him. i.e "idontknowwhatanyoneistalkingabout" line from the heart PNG.

While I want to believe that Wally can see us through our art, specifically when we draw or recreate his eyes, for engagement's sake (audio from this link), I also am inclined to believe he's refering to the eyes that the WHRP team member keeps drawing on those sticky notes and other places throughout the restoration site:

And and and!!! I think that there's got to be something upcoming with this link: https://www.clownillustration.com/error404

You find this link on the staff-only page at the bottom with the text "It's in here." And I think that with any future updates, the next section of the story will be coming from here.

AHH~! I rambled on too long! Hope you enjoyed it!

[amethystfairy1]

Hi I just read all of traveling thieves and it was so so good! Perfect mix of angst and comfort, it hurts so well :) I'm so excited to see where it goes next

I love how pearl and gem are vibing assassinating people together, they really are just girlbossing their way around

also gems sword is really cool

Gem getting bloodthirsty over the missing payment and then the guy offers pearl and she's like fine. I could use a companion I guess. But I will remember this. And then said companion helps her Kill and she's having fun and they're having a good time scandalizing people about an avian acting like a normal person but they can't do anything about bc that's The Slayer, you can't just FIGHT her about it she's got a broadsword dripping with enchants that she wields like it's nothing, and suddenly, oh, when was the last time gem had a friendship like this?

And tango and zed! Tango my beloved, poor guy he's doing his best, zed is also doing his best, and zed just running up to him and interviewing him excitedly and tango just being like 'uh. this is happening I guess' as their first meeting? Love it

Also zed flexing his master-smith seal to get them places and also just going 'i do what I want, YOU depend on ME' when he confronts heath about the water incident? 10/10

I'm also excited to see how Scott and Jimmy are doing, maybe he wants to be a free bird!!! I also love the narrative of Scott gets captured, he's in this new place and he immediately goes up to sit next to the only guy in the yard sitting alone, and he tries to escape and his new friend with the gold wings helps and then tries to tell him not to do that bc it'll just make it worse on him and Scott goes fine. I'll do it myself. and he DOES it and Jimmy goes well hell. Alright I'm going with him

And everything happening at the swagon? Oh my god?? Love me some misunderstanding hurt/comfort

Like at the beginning, grians still new to this whole situation with people being Nice to him, mumbo and scar are animatedly discussing a plan and grians in the corner just. Stressing. And now he's gotten more used to this and he's laughing (with bird noises!) and flying and quipping and committing petty revenge on mumbo lol and then something happens and he's Stressing again bc it's only been A Month

I was SO SURE I connected some dots bc of the 'between two books, right where he always left it' plus mumbo putting stuff back after grian hits the bookshelf plus how attached grian is to it (I am Looking at how he's described as treating it like glass Twice) that the going flying paper was going to go missing but apparently I have not connected the dots lol

I also love how grians tiny and then scar and mumbo are So Much Taller than him lol

In conclusion: I think I went a bit feral writing this but I really enjoyed the fic 👍 :)

Oh my goodness, thank you thank you!

I cannot tell you how happy receiving something like this makes me! All the details and thoughts! I love seeing someones thoughts about my AU like this for all the different groups going around! I'm glad the angst and comfort balance out for you, I know it's a dark fantasy AU but I also want it to have that sort of warm fuzzy edge to it, like everyone is being taken care of now, even if things were bad in the past.

Zed is 100% the BEST he knows what he is WORTH my boy look at him go I love him. Tiny tiny birb Grian! He's so sweet and traumatized poor lil guy 😭

Pearl and Gem are MENANCES they are TERRORS and I love them! Yes, yes, Pearl has had a bit more time to get more comfortable with Gem, and her experience navigating the system has also left her less shattered than Jimmy or Grian, for reasons that have been mentioned and will also later be explored in more detail.

Thank you so much for your wonderful words and for sharing them!!! 💖

[bookalooza]

Writing Made Simple: Tips for Effortless Expression

Ever stare at a blank page feeling like your brain has turned to mush? You're not alone. Writing can be intimidating, but guess what? It doesn't have to be.

Here's the truth: we all have stories to tell, ideas to share, and experiences that can resonate with others. This blog is your guide to ditching the fear and finding your voice. Let's break down some simple tips to make writing a breeze.

1. Find Your Why:

Before you dive in, ask yourself: why am I writing this? Are you crafting a heart-wrenching poem, a hilarious blog post, or a persuasive email? Knowing your purpose helps you choose the right tone and keeps you focused.

Think of it like picking an outfit. If you're going to a job interview, you wouldn't wear pajamas, right? Tailor your writing style to fit the situation.

2. Unleash the Brainstorm Beast:

Feeling stuck? Don't fret! Grab a pen and paper (or your favorite note-taking app) and brainstorm. Jot down any and all ideas that come to mind, no matter how silly they seem. This is your chance to be messy and unfiltered.

Imagine you're having a conversation with a friend. What would you say? What details would you share? Capture those thoughts – they'll be the foundation of your writing.

3. Start Somewhere, Anywhere:

The blank page can be daunting. Here's a secret: perfection is the enemy of progress. Don't wait for inspiration to strike. Just start writing, even if it's just a single sentence.

Think of it like building with Legos. You wouldn't try to build a spaceship right off the bat, would you? Start with a small piece, then another, and slowly your masterpiece will emerge.

4. Talk Like You Write (and Write Like You Talk):

The best writing is authentic. Don't try to sound like someone you're not. Use your natural voice, the one you use with your friends. Infuse your personality and let your passion shine through.

Imagine you're explaining something to a good friend. Write in a way that feels comfortable and conversational.

5. Short and Sweet is the Treat:

Keep your sentences clear and concise. Don't get lost in complex sentence structures. Aim for clarity over complexity. Your readers will thank you for it.

Think of it like a hike. Sure, you could take a winding, confusing path, but wouldn't a clear, well-marked trail be easier and more enjoyable?

6. Show, Don't Tell:

Instead of simply saying someone is sad, describe their slumped shoulders and the quiver in their voice. Paint a picture with your words and let your reader experience the emotions firsthand.

This applies to everything, not just emotions. Instead of saying the beach was beautiful, describe the soft sand, the crashing waves, and the scent of salty air.

7. Read Like a Ravenous Reader:

The more you read, the better you'll write. Pay attention to how other authors craft their stories, use language, and develop characters.

Reading exposes you to different writing styles and helps you build your own vocabulary. It's like learning a new language by osmosis!

8. Embrace the Power of Revision:

The first draft is rarely the best draft. Don't be afraid to revise, edit, and rewrite. Take a break, come back with fresh eyes, and polish your work.

Think of it like sculpting. You start with a rough block of stone, but with careful chiseling, you create a masterpiece.

9. Befriend the Delete Button:

Don't be afraid to cut! Sometimes, the most powerful writing is the most concise. Get rid of unnecessary words and phrases that weigh down your sentences.

This might feel ruthless at first, but trust me, your writing will be sharper and more impactful for it.

10. Celebrate the Small Victories:

Writing is a journey, not a destination. Don't get discouraged if you don't become a bestselling author overnight. Celebrate every small win – finishing a draft, getting a positive comment, or simply expressing yourself clearly.

The more you write, the more comfortable and confident you'll become.

Bonus Tip: Find Your Tribe:

Connect with other writers! Join online communities, take writing classes, or find a local writing group. Surrounding yourself with supportive and inspiring people can make a world of difference.

Remember, writing is a skill that takes practice. Don't be afraid to experiment, have fun, and find your own

[billconrad]

I Don’t Want to Write an Autobiography

    Fifteen years ago, my sister introduced me to one of her friends. He was a very creative individual obtaining a music degree at a Chicago community college. (We met in San Diego while he was on vacation.) This guy was fascinating, had a great outlook, and had a fantastic conversation.

    During this time, I learned his college had a significant film department, and he knew the students. One remark has stuck with me. They all had the same goal: to make a movie about their life. The students proudly gave him copies of their scripts (with the hope that he would provide the music for free). His opinion was that the scripts were all boring, depressing, and unworthy of being made into a film.

    After I published my first book, I began interacting with writers through the Facebook group Writers Helping Writers. Many posts discussed basing plots, characters, and scenes on their life.

    Do I do this? In my book Pushed To the Edge of Survival, the main character is an Electrical Engineer. That’s me in disguise. Right? While we share many similarities, the character is not based on me, but the character hit too close to home, which I now understand was a rookie mistake. If you knew me, you could argue this character is autobiographical or a glimpse into my fantasy life.

    Well, why not skip the middleman and write an autobiography? So far, my life has not been noteworthy, but I have enough experience to fill a book. Plus, it would be fun to interview my family and see my life in print. Billy Crystal did a fantastic job capturing his life in the book 700 Sundays. Of course, I’m not a famous comedian, but I am sure I could come up with something great.

   Yeah, no. I have no desire to share my life’s story. As proof, I had difficulty creating the “about the author” page on Amazon.

    Where is this negativity coming from? My core aversion is that I am a private person with no desire to share the details of my life with the world. What about my articles? They indeed contain parts of my life. True, but you do not see me posting pictures of my family, pouring my heart out about my problems, or providing intimate details.

    For example, three weeks ago, I took my daughter to shoot for the first time. She turned out to be a crack shot, and I am proud of her. Yet… I have no desire to share those details. Even that sentence was challenging to write. Why? I prefer to keep my private life private. Why? It’s hard to write. “Hey, world, I failed. Here are my bad decisions and sad feelings. Please send some love my way.” Or, “Hey world, I have a fantastic life. Love me, envy me, learn from my success, try to be like me.”

    Why not openly discuss the matter so I can get feedback? After all, people learn more from failures than successes. Am I afraid of everybody laughing at me or analyzing my mistakes? That’s one part of it. If asked, I would answer, “My failures or successes are my own heartbreaking or triumphant moments. Not yours. This is my life, and I will deal with it in my way. Stay out!”

    Like most men, I prefer to internalize my failures. I consider lamenting about my past to be detrimental to my success. I also feel that this effort would turn me into a negative person, and my life contains enough difficulties without intentionally focusing on my failures or glorifying my successes.

    Also, my most significant accomplishments are not that amazing. Want one? I was SCUBA diving during an earthquake. I bet less than 20 people have ever done that. What another? I broke bones twice in the same 9th grade gym class. Umm. Wow. Not that amazing. Here is my truly biggest accomplishment. I have a great family and work hard to keep it that way—spoiler alert. So does everybody else!

   A good autobiography describes something epic that readers actively seek out. Of course, that’s never stopped other non-famous people from writing an autobiography. Plus, I could embellish my life’s experiences. Did I tell you about the time I climbed Mount Everest? That is a bold lie; reading that sentence left a bad taste in my mouth. No, my dear readers, I have not been anywhere near Mount Everest.

    Printing lies is not how a gentleman should behave. Yet, I get why others want to embellish; they crave attention.

    I have another fear. I do not want a random person to say, “Wow, you did (insert minor accomplishment).” As stated, my life is for me alone. Side note: writing a famous autobiography would make it difficult to haggle for low prices at the swap meet.

    My books and articles give the world enough of life. My point is that I have control over this information release and omit the big positives, negatives, failures, and family matters.

   If I were to write an autobiography, there would be approximately ten exciting paragraphs. The other 99.9% would be truthful but not worth reading. Being uninteresting is safe, healthy, relaxing, and free. I can go to the supermarket without a care in the world. The only people who recognize me are those I have met in the past.

   Yet… I do have this thing in the back of my head. It would be nice if my books became popular. If that occurred, would they demand a biography? I hope not; that’s for sure.

    You’re the best -Bill

    July 06, 2024

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[nuadox]

Pictures of pain: How a visual chatbot can help people with chronic pain

- By David Ireland , Nicole Emma Andrews , The Conversation -

Chronic or persistent pain is the main reason people seek medical care in Australia. Yet, most chronic pain is incurable and relies on education, exercise and other interventions for management, making it a complex, common and expensive health challenge.

The challenge is more pronounced in the treatment of children and people with diverse needs, such as those with language deficits and varying learning abilities.

Our team of researchers from CSIRO, RECOVER Injury Research Centre, the Tess Cramond Pain and Research Centre and the Queensland Interdisciplinary Paediatric Pain Service are exploring how therapeutic chatbots can help improve communication between people with chronic pain and health professionals.

To do this, we built a chatbot called Dolores, with a unique feature: a canvas for users to describe their pain with drawings, sketches and doodles. We found that in this case, a picture truly is worth a thousand words.

About Dolores

Dolores’s main function is to help users report data on their own pain and provide personalised education. This can be used to enhance communication between users and health professionals and improve pain management.

Dolores is designed to prompt the user for more information, ask follow-up questions, and generally lead the conversation.

The chatbot tailors its responses to the user. It will respond to children with short answers and a limited vocabulary, and responses will gradually increase in complexity with the user’s age.

As the app often captures sensitive data, it was designed with privacy and ethical considerations in mind.

The technology behind Dolores is very different from the large language models behind chatbots such as ChatGPT. It works from a knowledge base and conversation flow built by occupational, speech and physio therapists, based on diverse experience with clients of different ages.

Dolores’s “brain” was built with help from hackathons and industry experts to ensure its responses are always focused on meeting the needs of users. Importantly, it will not give incorrect information or “hallucinate” responses.

Pain history

One thing Dolores is used for is to administer what is called a “pain history interview”.

In this process, Dolores asks questions about the onset, location and duration of the user’s pain. It also asks about the sensations and emotions associated with the pain and its impact on daily life, as well as the user’s understanding of pain and their perceptions of different kinds of treatment.

The user can respond to Dolores by talking, typing or drawing. Dolores then produces a transcript which the user can choose to share with their medical professional.

The transcript below was generated using speech recognition from a conversation with an individual living with chronic pain.

Dolores: Could you describe or draw what your pain physically feels like?

Client: Sometimes it’s different … it’s not all the same … then all the days it’s burning tingling

Dolores: Could you tell me or draw how your pain makes you feel? Physically and mentally.

Client: Shit makes me feel like shit

Dolores: And how long have you been in pain for?

Client: Since I was about 15 years old

Dolores: Can you tell me or draw how your pain began?

Client: I am not sure it just began

Dolores: And how does your pain affect your day-to-day life?

Client: It affects everything even down to driving, shopping, taking my kids to school. Even just making a cup of tea

Dolores: What do you believe is the cause of your pain?

Client: Autoimmune disease and follow on disorders from that

Dolores: What do you believe are the best treatments for managing your pain?

Client: Nothing really helps it’s just a matter of learning to deal with it and manage it

While this example was verbal and detailed, some users – particularly children and adolescents – preferred to doodle. For example, a volcano erupting symbolised a pain flare-up; lightning strikes symbolised sharp, sudden pain; and swirls and waves symbolised cyclic pain.

When asking about the impact of pain on daily life, we received an abundance of stick figures and faces depicting sorrow and loss of identity.

The future

In its present state, Dolores can interpret the colours used in a drawing, but not the drawing itself. Research shows red and black, for example, are commonly used when “painting pain”.

So when soliciting more information about a doodle, Dolores might say things like “That’s a lot of red. What is it?”

The next version of Dolores will have sketch recognition, which we believe will give her more insight and provide extended engagement with clients.

Dolores was received positively in cohorts of patients across different age groups. It will soon be used in the broader chronic pain intervention platform, Pain ROADMAP.

Dolores is a step forward in catering for clients and communities whose language may differ from the clinician and for children and individuals with language disorders, who often have higher rates of chronic pain and have difficulties communicating about their pain.

We believe a chatbot that identifies and conveys the symbols of pain to a clinician can be an effective tool for enhanced communication, leading to more effective pain management.

David Ireland, Senior Research Scientist at the Australian E-Health Research Centre, CSIRO and Nicole Emma Andrews, Research Fellow, The University of Queensland

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

--

Read Also

DocsGPT: A new chatbot for healthcare pros

[comfydev]

Day #2 - I'm not like other the girls

The other girls are better than me, but that's okay! I'll still take inspiration from them. There are a few amazing games that I'm taking inspiration from to create my own whodunit:

1) This one shouldn't really be part of my benchmark, but I can't help to include it. I was a kid when Riddle School games started to come out. These games came with short notes from the creator talking abt his process. As a child, this was when I realized that 1 person could actually put together and create a game by themselves. I sensed so much detail and passion were put behind these small funny games. At the time, I did not have the skills, but the idea of making a silly little game stuck with me. From Riddle School, I hope to capture the nonsensical humor and subtle Easter eggs.

2) Tangle Tower. This girl is definitely the one I have a crush on and want to be the most like. A whodunit with fun, vibrant colors, characters and a light-hearted approach to murder. I enjoy the balance of the point-and-click elements and the puzzles. Their UI is also my dream UI. I could never have such cool animations and character designs (my background is in programming), but this is definitely the vibe I want to go for in terms of aesthetics, storytelling and gameplay.

3) Every creative person needs at least 1 insane-sounding idea. Disco Elysium gave me mine. While the premise involves a detective solving a murder, this game is hardly a whodunit. Still, there are a couple of elements I adored and need to become a genre. 3.1) The character creation of Disco Elysium is similar to DnD's, but I love how it ties into the gameplay. How different personality traits serve as your 'inner dialogue' and pressure you to act in different ways. Will you take the empathetic approach? The aggressive route? The reasonable stance? They also serve as modifiers, like in other tabletop games, and can be influenced by the items you pick up (e.g. nerdy glasses = extra intelligence). I'm not going for such an intricate system, nor am I thinking abt replayability too much (after all, it will always be the same culprit). That said, I do want a character creation mechanic. I want players to pick an approach (logic, empathy or brute force) and pick a couple items to help them solve some puzzles in alternative ways!

3. 2) No thoughts, head empty! This is a tricky one for sure… The Thought Cabinet is a game mechanic that almost drove Disco Elysium's studio to bankruptcy. However, in an interview, one of the creators described it as "a crafting station for thoughts". This sentence made me think how cool it would be to have a crafting mechanic for murder theories/suspects. This would allow players to use testimonies and clues to craft theories at their own pace. Some theories could be wrong, and it would be up to the player to back them up with evidence until they had a sound explanation for all the events. I've drafted three approaches for this mechanic: The Minecraft Table, The Baba is You, and the one I will most likely go for.

[normalwitch]

listen i’m so in love with the owens’ house. the production designer describes it as literally a cauldron, having a whole world in both the house and garden, and that it’s a sanctuary for the family, who are outcasts. they aren’t the only ones. the black cats they collect over the years are all from a shelter on the island. nobody wanted any of them because of superstition, fear of bad luck and wickedness ( black cats historically have been seen as omens of evil, suspected of being familiars of witches ) , so eventually they all gravitate to the owens’ house --- and then the women there accepted and take care of them. i love the symbolism of that alone. it’s just so poetically beautiful, outcasts finding refuge with outcasts !

there aren’t any clocks or mirrors inside the house. in the back there’s a henhouse, a potting shed, a large padlocked greenhouse, and a garden described to be so lush and green it’s dizzying. a gate leads to a bluestone path up to the porch, where the ivy and climbing wisteria grow, and the light is always turned on after midnight. this is the light the desperate townsfolk from jealous house wives to angelic women in the choir go when they want to visit the aunts for something they desire. a charm, a potion, a spell, a tea, a spell. during the daytime they’ll avoid crossing the same side of the street as the women living inside but they’ll still arrive to sit at the table and hand over cash ( though the aunts favor cameos and have a drawer stuffed full of them ).

when you step inside and over the threshold it seems like time moves at an entirely different pace removed from the outside world. even just trying to get  a peek within, there’s a current of discernible energy on the air, but good luck !! the damask curtains are almost always drawn, and the glass is old and thick, tinted with a green that makes everything look watery, almost like a dream. so maybe you’ll doubt what you see, if anything. or maybe you won’t, knowing the rumors swirling around the island and uttered since the 1600s.

the manor is so old that some of the wood used to make the paneling and mantels is extinct. a total of fifteen different types of woods have been used, including pine, golden oak, silver ash, and cherry fruit that gives off the scent of ripe fruit even in the winter. none of the woodwork itself ever gets dusty or needs polishing ( but sally takes it upon herself to dust and polish anyway ). there are three floors, a cellar, and two staircases. the one in the back is chillier, twisting like a puzzle, and the other is elegant and crafted from mahogany, leading all the way up to the turret that is like a single lighthouse tower. above the velvet-cushioned window seat on the landing of the front staircase is a portrait of the beautiful maria owens herself. her hair is pulled back with a satin blue ribbon and she’s wearing her favorite blue dress. sometimes it might feel like her eyes are watching you ( which might make sense, since when she was alive she fearlessly looked people straight in the eye, even if they were older or came from a higher class ).

it’s always cool, like a crisp autumn day. bats live in the attic, mice live in the walls. this changes after michael, sally’s husband, moves in, as i have discussed with @liminalchaos, despite the manor not needing the upkeep, it appreciates the efforts and dedication sally has always put into taking !! care !! of it ! because after michael moves in, the house becomes and stays cheery and warm. the bats move out of the attic and into the garden shed. roses begin to grow along the porch’s railing and choke all of the the weeds. the teardrop chandelier in the parlor tinkles back and forth on its own. through out the night a tranquil sound reminiscent of a flowing river fills the interior, glittering and trickling. it’s so sweet and melodic the mice come out to make sure that the manor is still in one piece, and a meadow hasn’t taken the house’s place.

the house. is. magic. even the bluestone path outside of it, which stops getting cold and icy during the winters after michael and sally get together. speaking of the stones !! maria brought them with her from ireland years ago to form the path in the garden. they’re protective, some would say lucky. extras are stored in the shed, along with maria’s rope. maria owens herself took matters of protection and luck very seriously. that’s why she planted so many things that still remain in the garden to the current day; fruit trees in the dark of the moon, hardy perennials, lavender, lilacs, roses, and strong onions and more. the owens will get down on their knees in the dirt and weed but never have to worry about earwigs. rabbits come to eat the mint, parsley and lettuce. aunt jet and frances are the ones to nail the skull of a horse on the fence to keep out gutsy and hungry neighbouring children.

the grimoire shifts back and forth between the conservatory and greenhouse. it’s a thick, black, tome that is cool to the touch, filled with layered pages that fold in and out; only, it will burn your hand if you touch it  and you’re not an owens. the conservatory has its glass beakers, tubing, vials and rows of potted plants, which is next to the potions room; the greenhouse outside holds bulbs and flowers, waiting to be planted in the autumn, along with those requiring special care. there are no mirrors in the house itself, but there is one hidden behind a black cloth inside of the greenhouse. it’s a curse or blessing ( undeniably magical ), however way you want to look at it. if an owens dares to remove the cloth to take a peek, she will see her reflection, along with shining images of the future to come.

back when maria owens was still alive and not too long after the victorian manor was built, a hurricane damaged all of the houses on magnolia street --- except for hers. not even the laundry hanging out on the line was disturbed. this incident helped fuel fear and rumors of her and her bloodline’s powers. it didn’t help when greenery on the island would brown and wilt and the owens’ garden flourished. any stroke of bad luck or mundane misfortune was swiftly blamed on the women living inside the house. while the garden was gated by a smaller fence, an even larger, black and spiky one circled the vast property. it looked like a snake to any outsiders. folk grew up and passed along superstitions. don’t walk past during nightfall, it’s not safe. only the most foolish would try to peer over the iron gate and into the yard. you risked being hexed or cursed, and being sorry for the rest of your life.

so this is long, and i bet i forgot details, i know i forgot details. like how the roof is a favorite place to go and lay out on to star gaze, look out at the ocean. the house, the property, it’s all spacious and rich with history. it’s a good thing it’s so big so that the women living inside it along with all the black cats that come and go have room to live and be free, even if it doesn’t always feel that way for them. it’s their safe place away from any prejudice or misunderstanding that might await them off their property. the owens women have largely always been envied and misunderstood. barely have any outside of blood dared to step inside the manor, since it's always been seen as too risky to do so !!

[pinkwright]

do u ever daydream about me ? | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — queen panther!shuri x ex!y/n

trope — exes still in love (post-breakup)

inspo — lucidia (egodeath) by ambré + been like this by doja cat

warnings — vv dramatic bc its me, they r lovesick ur honour, reader is hurting like srsly, shuri is hurting like srsly 2, everybody hurting srsly okay, breakup isn’t described, lots of heart/rib metaphors n descriptions lol, the sides r povs, pretty vague contextually (?), no happy ending bc life, shuri has a panic attack but its not overly detailed, shuri’s vv self-destructive (stop thats my baby), no real sense of a timeline, they need each other u guys, its not set who hurt who so u can use ur imagination, literally just angst w a pinch of fluff if u squint.

a/n — thank u for all the love on my first fic. i wanted a fic that hurt so i was tempted to deliver n here it is, i hope u enjoy it !

⟢˚ taglist: @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @saintwrld

ஜ

side a

let’s make sure its reel, baby can we film it? now you got me here, stuck up in my feelings.

longing buries itself within your chest, the weight is settling in the cage of your ribs, and they seem to tighten at the steady chuckle that falls from her pretty lips, only amplified by the surround sound in your barren apartment. your subconscious berates you for the continuous empty promises made to yourself, empty promises that only contribute to the depths of your very own despair – but can anyone truly blame you for missing all that love?

the short film – a lovers’ moment of perfection, an ode to what was and what could have been, what should have been – captures your love at the height of pure joy and contentment. it was a homemade film taken in your kitchen; the camera held up by you — the interviewer to shuri's interviewee. your giggles ring in the background working in tandem with the soft beat of your favourite track to produce, as shuri had said, 'the symphony to the rhythm of her heart.'

shuri’s gazing just over the lens of the camera and into your eyes, the love spilling from the gaze makes you giddy and shy, so you clear your throat. “so, miss ‘i’m the queen of wakanda, i do what i want’,” you gently mock. your soft laugh coercing a giggle out of shuri’s lips, “to what do i owe the pleasure of her majesty’s great presence?”

she rolls her eyes, her lips dropping into a soft, fond smirk, “i can’t come to visit my wife, to whom my heart resides with? i do need to come to check in on her from time to time, s'thandwa.” she smiles. her eyes are boring into yours when her face comes to rest in the palms of her hands, her elbows placed on your kitchen counter as she regards you with the renowned intensity of the black panther.

your breath catches behind the camera and the viewer watches as shuri’s smirk grows over the stammers of your speech, “you’ve never even asked me to marry you,” you splutter flustered. “and your heart’s still your own…” your sentence trails off at shuri’s contemplative but amused expression. the queen is rising to her feet and making her way towards you, the camera’s gaze lowers to the floor but remains recording stagnantly between your bodies. slowly, she takes your hand in both of hers and lifts your knuckles to her lips, kissing them gently, unseen by the lens but scorched into your very being — every memory with her was.

the exhale that leaves your lips is soft, as words begin to trail out of her, brushing against the heated skin of your hands; words that heal wounds that have yet to manifest, settle the unsteady rhythm of your heart, caress the traumas of your youth, and continue to soothe the restlessness of your soul – washing away the boundaries between separate but familiar souls, guiding them to become one under the false veil of “forever”.

a sharp wail breaks through the atmosphere of your room, your trembling form curling pathetically like a baby in the womb – trying desperately to garner some semblance of comfort for the shattered shell of desolation you had become. the pulse of your heart is desperate, throbbing for the calm existence of life before pain, before her.

your lungs burn for oxygen as you use the heel of your palm to repeat firm, solid thumps against the pain in your chest. no one tells you that the heart you use to preserve the realisation of your love and nurture innocent youth, the one that overflows steadily with tenderness is the same heart that uses the pain of separation to fuel its anger, the caged animal raging with vengeance, screeching against the jagged bones of its cell.

no one told you that it would be like this.

i gave you all this time, gave you my everything. can’t put my trauma to the side; when you told me i was lying, had me feeling like i died, baby.

side b

i know that you miss all this love. maybe we should get back in touch. maybe you could make me over shiny and new.

shuri sits up with a gasp, the ringing in her ears deafening as she swings her feet over the edge of her bed to attempt to ground herself. the ache in her stomach is expanding, the anxiety crawling its way to her throat and she’s struggling to breathe, “my queen, it seems you are experiencing a severe panic attack, may i call for assistance?” griot sounds, vaguely registering from between the screams of her turbulent mind.

she’s gasping so hard that her ribs begin to ache, gripping the sheets beneath her to keep from crying out from the sheer force of the jagged claws that plunge into the cause of her sorrows over and over again. the dreamless heavy state of her short rest can only quell her broken state for so long.

all she can think about is you; your tenderness, your patience, your strength – her need for you. the tears are gathering on the lashes of her shut eyes, the force causing her head to pound rapidly, colours dancing behind the lids of her eyes, and she’s clenching her jaw to calm the storm breaking through her form.

she counts to ten until her world is eerily still, and everything is silent.

shuri forcefully exhales a deep breath and her senses tune back into the real world where she can hear the heavy knocks on the doors to her chambers, “'mkanikazi wam'... are you all right, mama?” aneka’s whispers are rapid, fearful, but firm, with an undertone of gentleness shuri thinks she doesn’t deserve.

“i’m fine, aneka, just a bad dream.” the lie falls from her mouth too easily, reflexively, but her voice is straining wetly, and her emotions are quickly rising to break her facade. she doesn’t wait for a response but hears the hesitant retreating footsteps of the dora when she's shakily exhaling, then she breaks.

her tears are falling mercilessly as her shoulders shake, and again, she is tempted to put on her suit to use the panther's claws to rip the organ out of her chest. the bothersome vessel only seems to mock her, steadily drawing on its hinges to taunt her with temporary relief just to rear its true animosity.

and for a split second, a second quickly washed away by the instantaneous remorse and shame, she wishes she had left her heart buried with her mother.

but she also knows she doesn’t deserve that kind of relief – she needs it to hurt, to remind her how she hurt you, she craves it almost. she’s sobbing into the walls around her, surrounded by a strong nation weighed down by the excruciating pain of their mother, their protector. shuri’s voice is unrecognisable as the words uncontrollably dig their way out of her aching throat, calling out to you, echoing painfully through the only medium she knows.

“bast, please.”

lucid dreaming i dream about you, do you ever dare dream about me? when i talk to god i ask about you.

ஜ

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Could you give some examples of the misinformation in the English fandom? I speak almost no Japanese and even I've noticed times where the translation didn't quite seem to match up with what little I know but it seemed to me to just be adding a joke where there was none. I'd like to know lore I have wrong though.

[Referencing this post!]

A disclaimer before I properly respond to this ask; in sharing some examples and my thoughts, I am not faulting any fan translators or localizers that work on the TWST EN team. Translation and localization are very valued yet difficult tasks; there isn’t always an easy equivalent between languages, and it can be so challenging to capture linguistic nuances. I’m sure that everyone is just doing their best at what they are passionate about and/or being paid to do.

Again, I speak about this not with any malicious intent, but to elaborate on a point mentioned in my original post about differences between JP and EN fandoms (that being that misinformation readily spreads in EN compared to JP due to a significant language barrier).

It would be impossible to list off every single mistranslation or odd localization choice (both for fan translations and for the official TWST EN) 💦 They can also range in severity of mistranslation, from minor word choices which affect understanding of characters to generally confusing sentences to completely incorrect notes, lore, or story beats.

For a few detailed examples and explanations, please check out these posts:

Incorrect subject (Jade’s line on his character page on the official Twisted Wonderland EN website; all of the character lines on the website have been changed into something else now, so if you were to go check you wouldn’t find the initial error.)

Selected word does not fit the context (A phrase is used by a NPC to describe Sebek; this parricular fan translated equivalent does not quite suit the scenario/other words used.)

Misunderstanding of character’s intent (Jade explaining Floyd’s reason for the sea creature nicknames in episode 4 of the main story.)

This is a far more egregious example, but there was also this case in which an interview was translated in such a way that led to an extended period of unrest and conflict within the English-speaking part of the fandom.

Some more humorous mistranslations I’ve seen are:

“Jade drinks cannabis tea” (Jade Broom Bloom Birthday vignettes; he mentions that he uses some of the weeds (not cannabis) he picks up on his mountain hikes to brew tea. Japan still considers cannabis an illicit substance, and possession of it is illegal + punishable by a minimum sentence of 5 years in jail. Rough mistranslation aside, it’s unlikely Disney would allow for their highly marketable characters to be portrayed as using “weed”.)

“Team Puta” (main story, episode 6; the correct translation is “Team Hepta”, as Hepta is a Greek word meaning “seven”. Each of S.T.Y.X.’s teams is named similarly using other Greek words. “Puta” doesn’t make sense for S.T.Y.X.; it’s the Spanish word for a profanity. Why would one of their divisions be named that?)

“Jester Judge” (Glorious Masquerade; the title is used in reference to Frollo, the “Just Judge” of the City of Flowers. However, the adjective prior to judge has been mistranslated as “Jester”. Given Frollo’s personality and how his self-righteous actions are described, “just” makes much more sense than “jester”, which would imply that he is a fun-loving person.)

The disappearance of Cater’s sisters (main story, episode 1; when Cater introduces his unique magic to Yuu and co., he specifies that his clones aren’t his siblings. More specifically, Cater claims he “has no siblings”, which is incorrect. He canonically has two older sisters (which is even brought up in the localized version of Cater’s Labwear vignettes.) The vanishing sisters in the main story likely occurs due to a mistranslation of the Japanese phrase for siblings and relies on context to assign gender to said siblings. ***Note: the localization in general tends to add jokes that weren’t there in the original or it axes certain lines altogether.***

“The episode 6 plot twist is…?” (this is a personal anecdote; I once spoke to a fellow TWST fan who hadn’t yet read episode 6 (which was entirely out at the time) and they told me they had heard from other people that Idia’s unique magic was associated with his hair. They had also heard that he Overblots when the flames are put out and that this was what originally killed Ortho. I thought they were joking at first, but they genuinely believed it to be true 💦 when none of that is…)

I believe a lot of these mistranslations occurred due to the differences between Japanese and English. There are four separate alphabets for Japanese, whereas English only has one, and this can complicate translation. Furthermore, Japanese has certain nuances (such as omission of the subject and/or the same phrase meaning multiple different things depending on the context in which the phrase is used) which can lead to wonky translations.

Inputting certain phrases into Google translate or looking it up in a dictionary if you don’t know it may give only the most commonly used translation which doesn’t take the context of the rest of the sentence into consideration (which could entirely change the translation of the word). For example, やばい (yabai) is typically translated as “terrible” or “this is bad”; it has a generally negative connotation. However, it can actually have several meanings, with many of them actually being positive depending on the context.

Something that I’ve noticed is very popular in the English-speaking fandom are live reactions; they’re quick and snappy ways to get summaries of new TWST content as soon as it drops. These can sometimes be difficult for readers (who likely rely on the threads to understand what is going on) to discern what has legitimately happened in the story and what is just the fan translator having fun/saying something silly or exaggerating for effect (because they’re just as excited about new TWST content as we are to read about it!). It admittedly leads to some people taking the exaggerated parts/jokes/the fan translator goofing around as legitimate story beats. It’s understandable that the average fan would do this, as they do not understand Japanese to the point of being able to discern what is true vs what is false; of course they would put their trust in someone who does understand the language. In this case, it’s not a mistranslation so much as it is a misunderstanding. I believe this may be what Anon means when they say “the translation didn't quite seem to match up with what little [they] know but it seemed to [them] to just be adding a joke where there was none”.

A recent example of this occurred during Glorious Masquerade. In canon, Malleus outright declares that he is mad and wants to kill Rollo for deceiving him with a fake invitation. However, many excited Malleus fans added (in their initial personal reactions to the event) that it was cute that he was getting emotional because he was “mad at Rollo for trying to hurt Yuu” which… isn’t necessarily true. But since this was mixed in with legitimate summary/translations for the event, this led some readers to assume that this information was, indeed, not a joke but true while also completely overlooking the actual canon reason provided by Malleus himself for seeking devastating revenge against Rollo.

I hope that clarifies a few things!

[celestialspecial]

The Sin of Desire ( Part 8)

Werewolf!BillyRusso x Female Reader

Warnings:  Violence, Graphic Descriptions, 18+ spicy content etc.

Writers notes: Thanks for being patient with me as I upload this part and work on Suspended Moments pt 2, coming back from vacation has been hard!

Billy had taken you to small café a few towns over that you’d never been to before. Apparently, he had some friends in the area and was familiar with all the best hidden gem spots. The cappuccino was perfect and being a girl who couldn’t deny a chocolate croissant, indulged happily. He’d remark about something silly that had previously happened to you both, an inside joke from work or an encounter that made you two laugh. His whole body seemed to relax into his seat and you were grateful for it. Even though you were the one that had been attacked several days ago you could tell it was wearing on him much harder than you. Walking on eggshells might be how you’d describe it, even though you knew you weren’t about to throw in the towel just yet.

You were unfamiliar with his type, his pack, he’d once called it. What was involved, all the details of being a werewolf. To this day it still felt weird to wrap your mind around. You had read the books, watched the movies and then put it aside and gone to bed almost your whole life not believing such things actually existed. And it might’ve stayed that way too if you hadn’t been hired by this specific company, with this specific CEO, if you hadn’t been taking a shortcut to your parking garage at that specific time…

“Babe?” Billy questioned, noticing your eyes glazing over as you stared across the street, where nothing remotely interesting was going on to capture your attention. Shaking your head slightly you smiled back at him. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, hesitant to speak to him, let alone shake his hand during your interview. Tall, lean, but sturdy. He’d towered over your frame and if this was an intimidation tactic he used during negotiations you knew why his company was so successful. You’d hear guys by the watercooler snicker and make snide remarks, ‘Pretty boy’, about him after a scathing performance review or if their slacking off didn’t go unnoticed. They said it like it was an insult. One of the men had sneered at you and asked if you agreed, that your pompous leader was a just that, a pretty boy.

You had rolled your eyes refilling your coffee cup and responded that that was a better alternative to ‘an Ugly Ass Lowlife.’ And that at least they had that going for them, God forbid anyone confuse them for being ‘pretty.’ That had shut them up pretty quickly and maybe made a few enemies in the meantime. Grabbing a second cup of coffee you’d moved back to the other side of the break room wall where Billy’s office was and knocked before opening the door when he called out.

You still remember his face, twitching almost trying to suppress the biggest smirk you’d ever seen him make. Hand propping his chin up, an amused shine to his eyes as you walked over to place the mug in front of him. Had he heard the conversation one wall over? No, there was no way, the walls were too thick. He’d made sure the building was built that way, thick reinforced walls to mute sounds and muffle conversations held in separate areas.

He sure as hell was acting like someone who might’ve heard, but you ignored it and asked if he needed anything else.  When he had said no you left the office almost feeling a sense of giddiness, it didn’t feel like your own emotions bubbling through you, but the sensation was pleasant, warm and who were you to turn down feeling happy?

Looking back at the same man seated across from you as he sipped his coffee, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes as the radiant beams of early afternoon enfolded the table you were sitting at, you couldn’t help but wonder if that instance had had something to do with his true self. Was it even his true self? A wolf? When tensions weren’t so high you’d ask more questions, because right now you damn well deserved them.

“So groceries.” He had said, waking you from your stupor.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking we could pick those up then maybe spend the night at my place in the city? Get a bite to eat and have some…privacy. Ya know, away from prying eyes of contractors.” He mused, looking over his glasses at you and wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion. You had laughed and took his hand across the table.

“That sounds great.”

Grocery shopping was the bane of your existence, but doing it with your boyfriend made it go by so much easier. What’s the term, a spoonful of sugar? You weren’t far from the city but you could tell Billy enjoyed being dressed more casually, grabbing jars of peanut butter off the shelves and not being recognized by clients, work associates and everything in between. Here he could just- be.

Grabbing ingredients that you knew were for him to cook you something at a later date, and teasingly grabbing the more expensive official brand of items and tossing them into the cart laughing at the grimace you’d make. He’d always pay, and you were still learning how to receive that without feeling too uncomfortable, but you could tell it made him happy. To have someone to pamper, take care of, who was actually grateful for it.

Sure, he had tons of clients and people he worked with that he made happy, but this was different. Sweet, loving, domestic. Things he didn’t expect himself ever getting to experience and he was making sure he damn well enjoyed every moment. Seeing you try to switch out the kraft mac n’ cheese for a cheaper alternative before he noticed would have him pinching your side and kissing your forehead before replacing those items back on the shelf and grabbing the name brand once again. He hadn’t grown up having anyone to dote on him, let alone defend him, even in his past relationships he’d never felt like this. Home. You were his home, and there was no better feeling.

A sour tang of regret shot through him, thinking about the flash of memory he had from the other night, thrashing and clawing into the pantry. He’d handle it, he’d figure something out. Anything for her. After paying for the groceries and the drawn-out process of putting them away, the sun was beginning to set.

“You ready to go?” You asked, hoisting your overnight duffle onto your shoulder and moving towards the front door.

“Sure thing.” Billy responded, kissing your forehead and snatching the heavy bag off of you, unlocking his car from the front door. You got into the passenger side as he tossed the bag into the trunk and in the last glimmers of sunlight as you took off, back into the city.

Billy had a large penthouse apartment overlooking the water and a few nearby parks, because of course he did. You remember the first time you’d seen his place and how difficult it was to pick your jaw up off the floor. You were used to the view now, but still couldn’t believe how opulent the space was, and the square footage was far larger than your little house. Setting your bag down on his bed, Billy half turned to you, phone out and scrolling.

“So there are a few good places open but they’re gonna be closing soon, so we could head out or if we’re feeling lazy order in some-“ He let out an ‘oof’ sound as you tackled him to the bed, laughing at finally getting a surprised look out of him. You climbed on top, kicking your duffle off onto the ground in the process.

“I want to pick up where we left off.” You said diving down to claim a kiss from him. He hummed an appreciative response as his hands gripped your waist tighter. He ran hot, you could always feel it sleeping next to him but his hands right now were searing into your flesh, even over your shirt. You ground into him, involuntarily moaning at the feeling of friction between your legs. You don’t know how but he did things to you, made you feel things that you’d never felt before and this was by far one of your favorites. You kept up the motion feeling him going hard beneath you, his own eyes closing and he sucked in a shallow breath.

Your thighs ached a little as your momentum picked up, his hands sliding down to the sides of your skirt and pushing it up and out of the way so he could see your underwear, which was almost soaked through. “Mmmm look at you.” He murmured running his hands along your thighs now, fingers tracing upwards, teasingly. Pulling aside your panties he let a finger brush against you insistently making you cry out. You couldn’t take it, you wanted more, fingers fisted in his shirt you began plucking at the buttons, revealing more and more of his chest. When you were distracted with a particularly frustrating button Billy arched upwards, his hips grinding into you suddenly. He moaned, seizing your wrists and flipping you down beneath him, the last button of his shirt gone and stripped away.

He bent down to unzip the side of your skirt, pulling it down ever so slowly and letting his tongue lave over the newly freed bits of skin showing. A ragged breath heaved from your chest, feeling that building ache between your legs grow stronger as he pulled the rest of the offending garment off, tossing it across the room.

Billy kissed freely along your upper thighs, onto your stomach, purposefully missing the spot you truly wanted to feel him. Tongue dancing around your belly button and up to your breasts. He unclasped your bra freeing your chest to him openly and the growl than emanated in his throat felt unholy. Face pressed to your soft skin, breathing it in and sucking a nipple into his mouth, letting the tip of his tongue tease your mercilessly. His other hand caressing, kneading, worshipping your other breast. Maybe if he stayed like this with you forever your smell would envelope him completely and he would finally know peace.

Your pleading moans were like music to his ears as he sat back to undo the buttons of his pants, discarding them as well. He was fully outlined within his boxers, dying to bury himself into your molten heat, but he wanted to move slower, savoring each delicious stroke and movement. He let his hands brush a few stray strands from your face before letting them run down along your body before settling right in the center of your thighs. Tearing your panties off and letting out a long groan, running his own hand over the ever more prominent bulge just barely being contained.

“Billy, please.” You breathed, bucking up, hoping to get some kind of contact, some friction to satiate your need.

“Please what?”

“Please, I- I need you.” A corner of his lips twisted upwards as he drew a finger through your folds letting it dip into you, forcing you to gasp at the contact. It sent an electric zing through you but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

“You need me to what?” You whined, pitifully, hoping to be shown a little sympathy for your plight.

“Fuck me.”

“Ahhh there she is.” He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. He slid off his boxers, his erection no longer encumbered by the thin fabric. Billy ran a hand along it from base to tip, hissing as he hit the overly eager tip. He peppered a few quick pecks along your hipbones, then placed one long lasting one to the bundle of nerves between your legs, his tongue dipping out to taste the wetness that had started to drip out onto the sheets beneath. Air left your lungs rapidly as he then started to gently suck, groaning as he pushed his face deeper and letting the tantalizing vibrations from his mouth reverberate to your very core.

He reluctantly pulled back, lips coated in your juices and his tongue drew a lazy line along his bottom lip before he lined up with you and in a bliss coated pulse, pushed inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut, reveling in the sensation of the length of him, running along all the delicious edges inside of you that yearned to be touched. He started a rhythm that had you grasping at the bedsheets. His cock stretching you open and each slide of friction sending searing stars into your vision.

You felt another moan turn into a grunt in your throat. “Let me hear it baby, no one’s around to watch this time. Or maybe you’d like that huh?” He snaps his hips into you and you let loose a loud unfiltered moan. He bends to kiss the column of your neck, sucking marks onto your collar bone, reveling in the soft pants you’re making.  “You feel so fuckin’ good.” As he turns to flurry more kisses onto your other side you let your teeth graze along his neck feeling the pulse beneath you and he snarls. “That’s cheating.”

You huff out a soft laugh, feeling the wall within you beginning to break, to crumble into nothingness. “Billy… I’m so close.” He is too and you feel him pick up speed, your hands gripping along his back, legs pulling him into you more forcefully with every pump. The final drag against you obliterated any sense of control, and you orgasm overcame you in wave after wave. Your body shook at the intensity and eyes squeezed shut, mouth half open, unsure if any actual sound came out, too lost in the sensations.

Billy thrust into you a few more times, hands gripping you tightly and the dam within him broke as well. “Fuck.” He groaned into your shoulder, burying his face as he rode out his release as well. When you both felt yourselves coming down from the high he loosened his grip, pushing back enough to fall to your side, drawing you close to him and planting a tender kiss to your lips. You could feel bruises starting to form where he had gripped you and thought slightly painful you couldn’t help but grin at the thought of wearing an outfit to work tomorrow that put those marks on display.

He caught you grinning and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, his dark eyes blissed out and something else more that you couldn’t quite pin point.

“I love you.”

Your eyes that had been sleepily closing shot open, staring back at him, mouth parted. He saw your shock and started to anxiously back track. “ I’m sorry…is it too soon? It’s too soon right..” You smiled sweetly, running your fingers through his hair and leaning over to kiss him once more. If it had been any other man, any other situation, maybe you wouldn’t blanched, put up a wall, withdrew completely, but this time-

“I love you too.” Grabbing his face between your two hands, his expression softened, eyes wide, a dark night sky, the color of coffee, endless. Grabbing your wrists, he surged forward to kiss you, again and again and again.

You did end up ordering food in, but the night was anything but lazy.

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,196

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, George Foyet, Multiple Unsubs and Victims

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' story line.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) remebers her first day in the job and recounts all the cases and events that led to the downfall of George Foyet. 

A/N: I decided to say fuck the anxiety of posting and put up my Aaron fanfiction. It’s been gathering dust in my documents folder and I love writing too much to keep it to myself. I’m not sure how many chapters this will have but there’s already 8 chapters all finished up. Soon I’ll be posting ff of all the fanfictions I enjoy also! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

“Good morning, BAU!” I said as I walked through the doors of the elevator and entered the bullpen. I could still remember how it felt the first time I got here.

I walked out of the elevator and made my way to the first office on the left. I was to meet

SSA Aaron Hotchner for an interview to join the BAU. My hands were shaking, and my body was getting warmer by the second. But I remembered my father’s encouraging words. “You’re gonna do great, mia bella.”

Not only was I extremely young, but I also had a lot to live up to. Being the daughter of SSA David Stephen Rossi was no easy task. He was an amazing agent, mentor, and father. He always pushed me to be the best at everything I did. When I started high school, I decided to get a head start on my college studies and applied to dual enrollment. When I graduated I did so with a Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Then, I worked my way to a Master’s in Psychology and Social Work, and a Doctorate in Criminal Justice. At the same time, my father trained me as a profiler. All my life I knew I wanted to be in the FBI, just like him. I was always impressed at all he did and wanted to be just like my hero. The day I told him I had been recruited by the FBI and was set to work in the BAU he said it had been the greatest day of his life.

Now my shaking hand raised to softly knock on the door before me.

“Come in,” someone said from inside. The door softly creaked as I opened and was met by a tall man with dark hair and a shorter blonde woman. “Agent Rossi, welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here.” I smiled and shook Aaron Hotchner’s and Erin Strauss’ hands.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Rossi,” Erin smiled. “Have to say, you have a very impressive curriculum and your disinvolvement in our past interviews and tests have been outstanding.”

I smiled and turned the bracelet on my wrist for comfort.

“I must concur with Chief Strauss,” said Hotch. “I believe you will be a great addition to the BAU team.”

After sharing a few pleasantries and being handed my badge and gun, I was following Hotch to the briefing room to meet the rest of the team. Formally, at least. I had heard everything about them when I spoke with my father. He left no detail out.

“Morning, everyone,” Hotchner started. “I called you all in early today so you could meet the newest addition to the team. This is Agent (y/n) Rossi.”

To the sound of my name most of the mouths in the room dropped.

“Rossi, as in David Rossi?” The slender, messy haired agent said. I could only assume that was Spencer Reid. As my father had described him, a curly mess dressed in vests.

I nodded.

“Rossi, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful daughter.” That would be Derek Morgan. The hottie Casanova with a silver tongue.

“I hadn’t?” My father questioned and smirked, knowing full well the answer.

“Well, he’s talked a lot about all of you,” I smiled.

“All good things I hope,” Emily smiled.

“Great things,” I returned the smile. “I could probably make out who is who by the things he’s told me.”

“Go ahead,” Aaron challenged.

“Alright,” I cleared my throat and started going around the table. “Curly hair, vests, analyzing everything I’ve done and said since I walked in… you’re Spencer Reid.”

He smiled brightly.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and a silver tongue. Plus, you checked me out as soon as the doors of the elevator opened… Derek Morgan.”

He smirked.

“Calm, cool, and collected. Quiet but present, inspecting my presence here… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

“She’s good,” Emily muttered to Morgan beside her. I continued.

“And last but not least, bright colors, fun accessories,” I said looking at Garcia. “Even though you’re smiling, you’re not sure about me yet because you don’t like change and are probably going to dig up everything you can on me as soon as you can… Penelope Garcia.”

She stiffened and Derek chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I do not like change that much either. And here,” I reached my hand into my bag to pull out a rather thick folder. “I’ll save you the work. Background check, complete internet history, social medias, and all the whatnots you would need to build a very extensive profile.”

“Oh, thank you,” she reached out her hand and grabbed the folder, smiling at the floor.

“And well, I already know Agent Hotchner and my father, so they don’t need much of an introduction.”

“No, but you do,” my father said joining my side. “Tell them a bit about yourself.”

“Well, I have a bachelor, two masters, and a doctorate degree: I’m 23, I’m Rossi’s daughter…” In the middle of my thought process dad cut in.

“She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, and she’s the one I call when I’m stuck on a case.” I smiled.

“She also passed every test with flying colors,” Aaron added. “And her profiling skills are exceptional.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “I think it runs in my blood.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Aaron continued. “Let’s get to work.”

That was almost three years ago. A couple of days after, I met JJ who had visited with her newborn son Henry.

In very little time I had grown attached to this family. I was most of the time partnered with Spence and we developed an amazing bond. It did help that I loved playing chess and we could have highly erudite talks. Also, I very much enjoyed his over sharing of facts. But really, I was close to them all. On my spare time I was found watching movies with Derek and Penny, perusing book shops with Reid, having girl nights with JJ, Penny, and Emily, or sipping on top grade scotch while finishing paperwork with Hotch.

Spending time with Hotch was my favorite pastime of all.

I realized I had developed feelings for him the day he was captured by Foyet and left at the hospital. Receiving the call from Emily that she had found blood at his apartment literally knocked the air out of my lungs. Reid could tell that my reaction would not have been the same where it had been any of the other members. For some time, he had deduced my attraction to our unit chief. Once we had captured Patrick Meyers and Reid had been sent off to a hospital, we sped off to St. Sebastian Hospital. I could feel my heartbeat going faster and faster as I felt time slipping by. More than once I had asked Morgan to go faster and with sorry eyes, he told me he was going as fast as he could.

Seeing Hotch on a hospital bed, greatly hurt, broke me. I knew everyone on the team, just like Reid, had figured it out. I was the first one in when the doctor announced he was waking up. His eyes fluttered open as JJ, the last one to enter, made it in.

“Where am I?” He groggily asked.

“In the hospital,” dad answered.

My eyes could not leave his face, even as all I wanted was to imagine him in a different state. Derek told him how he made it to the hospital and Emily asked Hotch what had happened. Closing his eyes, Hotch explained step by step how everything had gone down. Upon more investigation, we quickly figured what Foyet had taken and, a page from his planner that held his ex-wife’s and son’s current address and a picture of them, respectively.

Once we had that information, the team knew exactly what to do. Emily and I volunteered to stay behind and update the team if anything changed. As soon as he went to sleep, we let out a locked breath. But the relief was short lived as his pulse started to get exceedingly fast.

“What happened?” The doctor asked.

“I don’t know,” I croakily muttered out. Emily put a hand on my back as I softly touched his arm.

“Agent Hotchner. Can you hear me?” The doctor called out. “Agent Hotchner?”

He finally opened his eyes and responded. “I’m okay.”  

The doctor asked us out of the room as she checked on him and Emily helped stabilize my walk as we made it out. I saw the doctor and a nurse check him as I picked the skin of the thumb of my right hand. Emily noticed and grabbed it, knowing well of my nervous ticks. The other being closing my fist hard enough to dig my nails in it.

“He’ll be okay,” she smiled. “You know he’s a fighter.”

I softly smiled at her, not knowing if she said it for me or for her to believe it too.

Once we knew Haley and Jack were safe the three of us let out a relieved sigh. Hotch squeezed the hand I had been holding as he slept, needing the reassurance of a trusted presence next to him. He asked Emily about the scene at his apartment, but she could not give him definite answers. In a moment of silence, she excused herself to go buy coffee and I took this chance to ask him what had been going through my head.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” I asked worry evident in my eyes.

Sighing, he responded. “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time, it all goes blank.”

He looked straight into my eyes and I could tell he knew more than he let on, but now was not the time to push him. He had been drained: physically, emotionally, and mentally. In that moment, Haley walked in and I let go of his hand to leave them to talk. From outside of the room, I could hear the heartbreaking moment and knowing he was in pain shattered my heart. That day had absolutely devastated us as a team, but it only made us more determined to find Foyet and end him.

But life and work went on. The whole month he was off, I spent most of my free time helping in his recovery and his healing, using the little training I had in wound treatment. The other part of my time I spent with Reid, who was also in recovery. A far less pressing injury, but an injury, nonetheless. And he was my best friend, so I could not completely abandon him.  

We were all worried about him coming back to the team with Foyet still out there, but dad reassured us he would only be more motivated. Yet the first case back, he was different. He was usually professional and understanding, now it seemed that no matter how well we worked, we would make a mistake. And when we finally tracked down the unsub and he made his way inside the house, no vest, and no gun, I knew there was something different in him. I tried to follow him inside, but dad stopped me.

“We have to trust him,” he told me. Even with those words we were all unsure of the outcome. My head was working 1,000 miles a minute coming up with different ways this could all end up in, and when I heard the gunshots, my mind only went to the darkest end. Quickly we stormed in the house and saw Hotch putting handcuffs on Darrin, and a very dead Jarvis on a recliner.  

My father spent most of his time with me reassuring me that Hotch was still the same man he had been a month before. And I spent most of my time with Hotch reassuring him that he was not alone.

At the end of most cases Emily, dad, and I sat with Hotch in his office to drink a cup of scotch and unwind after a stressful day. I stayed nights overtime often and was there on the night that Strauss had landed a surprise visit to his office. The next day he became hyper focused on Derek’s work, which later he revealed to me the reason why. The bureau was questioning his leadership and he meant to step down as unit chief at the end of that week. This ended with Derek becoming active unit chief whilst Hotch was being investigated.

The days that followed were quite strange. We were used to taking orders from Hotch and now taking orders from Morgan was completely different. But business went on as usual. We worked on cases just as hard and solved them just as efficiently. With one case always hanging on us like a dark cloud. George Foyet. With every case we finished we knew he was still out there, which meant that Hotch was still hurting and hunting.  

But the dreaded day had caught up to us. With the last case we had been on in Hampton we knew Foyet had found Hotch. He was taunting Hotch, dangling his life in front of him. Once he had sent us that calling card, we pressed harder on our investigation, pulling at whatever string we could find.

Thankfully, JJ pulled our medication string harder when she found out about the ability to substitute prescriptions with over-the-counter meds. We worked tirelessly and strongly to shorten the investigation part of this case. We needed to catch him, fast.

“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things that have meaning to him,” I said looking at the map presented in front of us. I could see that Reid knew where I was going.

“The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led back to him,” Spence added, and I nodded.

“Maybe he’s doing the same with his name,” I said as Reid wrote down George Foyet on the board.

“Like an anagram or something,” Emily chimed. Quickly, Reid got to work on the theory crossing out and circling letters. Adding ‘The Reaper’ onto the board and utilizing it, once Hotch had pointed out Foyet gave himself that name. He kept up this process until the name Peter Rhea came to existence.

Garcia tracked down the name and quickly found an address in Arlington. We had found him, but it was just too easy.

We were waiting outside of the apartment building for too long, waiting for something, anything. Once Morgan had given his orders, the plan was set in motion. Still, something in the back of my mind kept telling me it was too easy. We stormed the empty apartment and searched for anything that would help us find his actual location. His computer was quickly deleting files, but Garcia was better. Haley’s protection unit was in trouble.

As soon as it clicked, we were on our way to the stash house. Inside the house Marshal Sam Kassmeyer was hurt, losing blood quickly. With the little he was able to tell us we knew that Haley and Jack were in danger. Sam had not told Foyet anything, but George was smart, unfortunately. He had disguised himself as a Marshal and lied to Haley to get her where he needed her. Only him had communication with her. Everyone was on edge wanting nothing more than to find this man.

In the office we heard Hotch’s conversation with Foyet. He was working hard to buy some time for us to find him but knowing George he already had a plan set in motion. He had eyes on the pair, he was with them. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through.

“Alright, Foyet has to be in control,” Derek said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He had Haley come to him.”

“Yeah, but where would he take her?” Spencer asked. We all started thinking and speculating. There was something in the call that told Hotch where to go. That was the key.

“Reid, what did he say, exactly?” I emphasized on the last word.

“Haley’s hair looks good dark. She’s lost some weight. It must be because of all the stress you caused her. Where’s the little man? Oh, there he is now. Do you think he likes Captain America because of you? That’s your wife on the other line. Hold, please. Hi. Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” Spencer recited in a monotone voice.

“Open the gate?” My father questioned.

“It would be someplace with the biggest emotional impact for Hotch,” I said looking down to organize my thoughts.

“And Haley has access to the gate,” Derek added, and it clicked.

“Their house,” I said. “Where they lived together.”

“Of course,” Emily said. “Foyet planned this all the way to the end. It’s everything to him.”

“He wants to take over Hotch’s house, to be in control, to prove his dominance,” I finished. We knew where he was going, and I was sure Hotch knew too and was already on his way.

On the way, Hotch got a call from Foyet’s phone. It was Hayley. I heard the emotion grabbing him by the throat. We could hear the whole conversation and my heart broke when he asked Hayley the magic words.

“Tell Jack that I need him working on the case,” Hotch breathed out. One drunken night he had told me about how he had found Jack inside a storage bench in his office after he had knocked on it. The smiling kid had told his father that he was working the case with Hotch. Hotch knew what was going to happen and so did I. This was the best chance Jack had at survival.

When Hotch told Jack to hug his mom and he said I love you, I let out a loud sob and Emily grabbed my hand tightly for support. But I was not the one that need the care. Hotch did. Haley’s words would forever be engraved in my head, and in the heads of our friends.

Three gunshots rang through the line right before it cut. Then I could not hold back the tears. I knew. I just knew.

Hotch was the first one on the scene and all I thought of was that he did not have a vest or any backup, so god knows what could have happened. For the second time in a matter of months all I could ask for was that Morgan drove faster.

At the house, Morgan was the first one in and the scene that unfolded in front of us was heartbreaking. Hotch was hitting Foyet over and over, and Derek had to hold him back. He was dead. I surveyed the scene and instinctively went to Hotch’s office, Hotch following close behind. Jack had to be there. I let Hotch walk past me and watched as relief overtook him when he lifted the lid.

“I work the case, daddy,” Jack said. Unbeknownst to everything that had happened. “Just like you said.”

“You did a great job buddy,” Hotch lifted his son out of the bench.

“What happened to you, daddy?”

“I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau. Ok?” The child walked to JJ and she took him out in her arms.

And Hotch let go. He silently cried and I helped him make his way to where Haley laid. I stood by the door and turned away a police officer. Morgan stood up and squeezed my shoulder as he left the room behind the officer. I stayed outside of the doorframe, listening to the sobs of a strong man.

Next->

[mybg3notebook]

Astarion and Power - Part 1

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

Before talking about Power, Cazador, and other details, I would like to quickly gather what little we have about Astarion’s past. 

Backstory: Mortal Astarion.

About his past we have little information, mostly given by Swen in interviews with game magazines or via his on-live demonstrations of the game early in 2020 before the release of EA. All this information is subjected to changes, of course, so we should take it with a pinch of salt. 

As a mortal, Astarion was a corrupt magistrate who judged criminals he later sent to the local vampire coven of the Szarr family as food. After a while, his greed got the best of him and started to sell those criminals into slavery as well, having a double profit from this. This movement brought the fury of the Szarr family upon him. 

From this short story we can infer that there was a high probability that his judgements were unfair, condemning criminals who needed a death sentence to lighter ones (this is related to his strange comment of “death is a harsh sentence” in Arabella’s scene, see the post Astarion's Standards and Manipulation) while condemning innocent ones; all with the goal of having a decent amount of living creatures to offer to the local vampire or to the slave traders.

We also know, by his own words in game, that when he was turned into a vampire, he had been the victim of an attack of thugs/Gurs (he says this information in different moments of the game, changing details. I don't know if this is on purpose to show Astarion’s manipulative nature depending on your reaction to Gandrel, or it’s a consequence of unpolished details during EA). What we know for sure is that these Gurs/thugs were angry because of a judgement he had previously made. It’s easy for us to infer, using the info above, two situations:

Astarion may have condemned some isolated Gur to an unfair trial who ended up in a slavery network, being discovered later by their Gur fellows who simply avenged them in Baldur’s Gate. This theory has been developed as a way to see fit the concept of Maiden Fel.  If Gandrel dies and Astarion performs a Speak with Dead, he will reveal that Maiden Fel is the head of his tribe who asked him to return with Astarion “unblemished”. Digging for more details about who Maiden Fel is, Gandrel says she is the “reason even monsters have nightmares”. Walking on the speculation ground, there is a chance that Maiden Fel could be a nightmare Hag, since Gurs consider hags as “wise women'', and unlike the rest of the humans, they respect them a bit more than common folks.

Or the whole setting was done by Cazador, who plotted this ambush to make it look as an act of barbarism using furious Gurs (which attack could be seen as an obvious reaction since Gurs are despised everywhere due to their nomadic lifestyle and all the stigmas they carry) as a way to punish Astarion for trying to outsmart him.

Among the many conclusions that we can draw from here is that, if Astarion’s backstory is not retconned and rewritten later in the full game, we can be almost sure he was an Evil-aligned character as a mortal. We can’t say that vampirism twisted his morals; they were rather poor in the first place. 

Astarion, the Vampire spawn

After the bite scene, Astarion presents himself as a vampire spawn, a creature lesser than a slave for his master, since Cazador’s commands are impossible to resist. He explicitly says that his body always reacts to Cazador’s word and for two hundred years he was tormented by him. Thanks to datamining information, we know that Cazador performed an infernal deal, and part of the contract is carved on his back. 

Due to datamining information as well, we know that the first dream that Astarion experiences may not be the one related to the tadpole dreams mechanics since he dreams without having made use of the tadpole powers yet. I prefer to suppose that this dream is product of his own psychology, or even it could be an effect of Cazador’s power on him (maybe he can’t dream of anything but of his Sire, considering how possessive Cazador is)

As I said, this is not a dream of power and desire in the same way that the other companions or Tav have, and for this reason I’m inclined to say that the vampiric power of Cazador is the one making an effect instead of the tadpole (or simply Astarion’s trauma showing). This dream looks like a reminder, like a reiterative dream for Astarion about Cazador’s rule, which are:

rule 1: he will not drink from thinking creatures.

rule 2: he will obey him in all things.

rule 3: he will not leave Cazador’s side unless directed.

rule 4: he will know that he is Cazador’s proprietary.

Most options end up in the similar idea of: “Free? Lie to yourself, boy, but not to me. You are mine, forever.”

Cazador and Astarion

[Astarion has just related what Cazador made him eat] “Flies? What did you do to deserve that?”

“I existed, that was enough for him. He revelled in having power over me, because those with power can do whatever the hell they want.”

If we are going to talk about power with a character as Astarion in mind, we need to talk first about Cazador. Let’s start with the way Astarion describes him:

“The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They're scheming, paranoid, power hungry beasts. So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me, it doesn't happen.”

“Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power.(...) Not political power or military power. Power over people. The power to control them completely. (...) He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.” 

“He had me go out Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his—I’d bring them back and he’d ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he’d serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he’d have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.”

“Cazador liked to make them art, spent all night with a razor, drafting a sonnet on my back. (Puppy eyes) Apparently the more I screamed, the more mistakes he made. And the more editing was required.”

“It was a group of Gur/thugs that attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate. I would have died had Cazador not appeared and saved me. (...) He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life. Given that my choices were “eternal life” or “bleed to death on the street”, I took him up on the offer. It was also afterwards I realised just how long “eternity” could be.” 

“Cazador likes to toy with people. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they’ll win.” 

(About Raphael’s encounter) “All that 'take your time. I'll wait' nonsense? He's playing with us. It reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged. "

Tav: “Would he send another Gur to capture?” / Ast: “Yes, he probably thought it was funny.”

(“We can kill him.”) “No, you don't understand. You don't know him. Just trust me when I say we need to be careful. He'll send more lackies – he has plenty of souls to command. We just have to be vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters on sight. We can probably make an exception with Wyll... Probably.”

>>So far we know that Cazador has a particular pleasure for control, especially the one related to people’s will. With the nightmare information, we know he has powers related to mind control. He has many slaves, and enjoys cruelty, humiliation, and torture. He enjoys making Astarion eat putrid animals, carving his back with an infernal contract, and playing psychologically with him. He also likes to give false hope, making his victims believe that there is hope, removing it right in front of them. 

I want to highlight that this twisted way of giving hope just to offer a perverted solution to a person’s problem, and enjoying the pleasure caused by the break of the hope, can be seen in Astarion during EA: in the approval that Astarion gives to Tav when you revive Connor, and that pinch of hope in Mayrina turns into horror when she sees Undead!Connor. For Astarion this situation is “funny”. Similar can be said when he approves telling Arabella’s parents that she will be released after the end of the ritual, when she is in fact dead. 

Astarion describes a bit more what power we should expect from a Lord Vampire:

Shapeshift: turning into mist.

Calling wolves to do his bidding.

Shrugging off blows.

He “could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands.”

Astarion and Slavery

One of the characteristics that so far in EA has got my attention was how little conflict Astarion has with slavery, despite having been his former condition. 

He is apathetic to slavery in the best case, or even supporting it in the worse case. Proof of this can be found in the Myconid Colony, when interacting with a duergar slave. He speaks as if it were a totally useful tool that inspires little sympathy in him, since they don't have consciousness. However, he leaves a quite open question when finally adding “Or maybe not”.

But this “maybe not” is not left to speculation, we can see what Astarion truly feels with a non-Gur human slave in another part of the game: in the Zhentarim hideout. This can be checked with Oskar, the painter slave.

You can free Oskar using persuasion with his kidnapper (Astarion keeps neutral, he doesn’t approve the freeing). Now, if you can buy Oskar by paying the gold directly or by using intimidation to lower the price, it would keep Astarion neutral until the moment of the payment is stated, which he disapproves. At first I thought it was because he was truly against slavery of thinking creatures... but it was not. It was because you are paying a lot of money (we need to remember Astarion is greedy [1] as well, he wouldn’t be a vampire if it weren't for his greed). 

Once bought, if you keep Oskar as a slave, and you demand him to keep silent because "you want your slaves silent unless they are spoken to", Oskar will think it's a joke, and you, again, can use the option "I don't joke with my slaves" and then Astarion will approve. None of these options is under any tag to make them believe they are part of a preformative act to prank Oskar. And this is key... this is not a joke. They are used as your real sentiments and intentions, and Astarion approves them.

These reactions are not random, they make sense with his—until this moment unchanged or retconned—backstory, where he had no problem trafficking with criminals as vampire food and later as slaves to have higher profits. So, these two aspects remain in his vampire nature unaltered: the most important thing is always to have profits, and his relationship with slavery is absolutely fine as much as it gives benefits, it’s useful or at least, gives him some entertainment.

The tadpole

We know the tadpole has a particular effect on Astarion. Unlike the other companions, Astarion doesn’t dream of a person who represents to him both desire and power. Power? undoubtedly, but desire? It’s hard to say. The implied, vague concept that Astarion has been sexually abused by Cazador is there (because we know these dreams are about “sensual” desire as well). 

It’s maybe a consequence of the vampirism and, by extension, of Cazador’s power, that makes Astarion unable to dream of anything else but his master. From the datamining information about the non-tadpole dream of Astarion, in which Cazador lists four rules, we know that the fourth one is about never stopping to be Cazador’s propriety, unable to be free, not even in dreams. Maybe Cazador’s effect also applies to Astarion’s dreams as well (but this is a mere speculation, there is no real proof of it on EA or datamining info so far). 

So when Astarion awakes in the beach and sees that some rules of his vampiric nature have been changed, he gets excited about the tadpole, and unlike the rest of the companions, he doesn’t want to get rid of it. He wants to master it, to have control of it. However, when the opportunity of controlling the tadpole appears with Raphael encounter, Astarion is one of the few companions who is completely against it at first. 

“Raphael is playing with us; Cazador liked to toy with people too. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don't play games unless they know they'll win.”

In that moment, he claims he won’t change a vampiric master for an infernal one. However, when the first use of the Tadpole causes the first symptoms of transformation evident, Astarion falls in despair: he is scared and, calling for Raphael to take him from the camp, he says a curious phrase: 

“I would choose servitude over oblivion any day”

So, after this moment, he is not completely convinced that Raphael is the true solution to his problem but he is more open to keep him as a plan B if anything else fails. Later he claims that it doesn't matter to be a servant of a devil, because he knows Cazador, and he wants to get rid of his power for good. 

“I won't lie, it's tempting. If I keep the tadpole, I risk transforming into a grotesque monster. If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows. It's grim either way, so why not sell what's left of my soul to a devil? Better he has it than cazador. Whatever it's coming we need to have our options open.”

Astarion’s process of seeing the potential of the power of the tadpole increases along the game. It gets higher and wilder. The first instances of the tadpole use are about Astarion discovering how much this tadpole gives him powers he can barely understand. 

“The tadpoles are not so bad at all. (...) First I can walk in the sun, then make people dance like puppets? *laughs * I've certainly had worse days.”

He is not an idiot, he knows that, without control, they will end up turning into mind flayers, so he needs to find something powerful that can give him control over his tadpole. This is the reason why he encourages the use of the tadpole after knowing about the netherese magic containing the transformation via Omellun or Ethel.

Ethel explains that the tadpole had been tampered, so the dialogue goes:

Tav: “It's giving us more time, sounds good to me”. 

Astarion: “Perhaps. And who's to say it can't be tampered with further?” (She said it was netherese magic) “it must be powerful magic to stop the parasite in its tracks, I wonder what else it could do?

At that point in the story, he knows that the netherese magic is powerful enough to contain the transformation: so he is now sure that there is more time to use it. So he will end up being the only companion in EA who encourages everyone to use the power:

“What's not to enjoy (with this tadpole)? I can walk in sunlight, trespass upon any home, manipulate minds – I'm the most powerful vampire in the realms. Granted, the looming doom is an issue, but why not enjoy the benefits while we can?

Despite the nightmares happening after every use of the tadpole powers, Astarion doesn’t want to stop. At this point, he is the only companion who doesn’t want to. 

“The power to twist a mind to your will is worth some nightmares.”

By the end of the game, we are sure that Astarion wants this power without doubts. He revels in the power of mind-controlling people, ironically, despite having suffered so much of it under Cazador’s control. If we see all the situations where Astarion’s mind is controlled, or violated, his reactions will be extremely more aggressive than the other companions. He has suffered it a lot, but by the end of EA he is enjoying being on the other side of that power. 

This post was written on April 2021. → For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

[smashboxgirl26]

vengeance / chapter 13: a new face

chapter 12: catching | chapter 14: apologies

vengeance masterlist

Bakugou’s mind rushed over the details that the Commissioner had mentioned the day before. The main issue was that the League was still active - despite them being imprisoned for over five years at that point. How they were still active was the question. And the only theory at the moment was that there was someone from the LOV who hadn’t been captured in the final battles - someone who’d been working on the sidelines enough that they were able to escape from prosecution easily.

That meant that they were probably very dangerous, and that was enough to send Bakugou back into his office to stare out the window again to calm his breathing.

The pit of anxiety in his stomach had been growing, a lot more now, and had been since you’d mentioned to him that you’d met Midoriya. He’d almost thought that his breaking point had been when he’d stepped into Ito’s room and saw those pictures of you everywhere, but it wasn’t.

It was the fact that he couldn’t work on the Ito case.

But it was that and every other single fucking thing that was piling up in his life. It seemed like his usual ranges of anger couldn’t solve these problems as easily as they usually did, and that was incredibly mentally taxing on him - trying to keep up with everything in the whirlwind that currently was his mind.

He hadn’t felt this way since high school - and the many thoughts that came with those feelings were threatening to flood back in as well.

Work.

Shut up and focus on the work.

Deal with the other shit later.

Y/N.

Work for her.

Becoming the Number One Hero.

Don’t lose sight of yourself and drown in the process.

It didn’t work as well as he thought it would, but Bakugou sat down on his desk chair to start on the case nevertheless.

He’d been emailed some of the details of the case when the Commissioner announced to the police that he’d be working on it with them. It wasn’t the highly classified details - of course - but more so an overview of the case as well as the starting point for him to grasp what the situation exactly was.

______

League of Villains: OVERVIEW

March 23, 2221; 8:09 AM

The criminals that were once banded together in the name of the “League of Villains”, LOV for short, together have had many incidents in recent times of their incarceration. Most are in reference to each other, or previous attacks, which leads the prison guards and employees to believe that this is all the form of something that they all collectively understand.

By incidents, it is implied that attacks have been frequent by the LOV alumnus: all of them have related to others; this has been confirmed by either their methods of attack, or what they have said to officers on the scene about the attack

No prisoners have currently escaped through these endeavors, however both prisoners and prison staff have been wounded. A majority of these injuries have been minor, coming in the form of minor scratches, bruises, and other small inflictions. No deaths have been recorded, but the severity of the wounds is increasing.

The resulting actions of the incidents described above were taken solely by the prison staff themselves with a slight oversight of the police: increased security staff around all LOV prisoners - whether they have made an attempt or not - along with solitary for those who did make an attempt.

Interviews have not yet been held, due to the fact that it is too dangerous for most of the prisoners to be taken out of their cells without the proper amount of protection for the questioner (as more guards have been allocated to watch all the LOV prisoners), meaning that more support is needed in order to properly question them

______

Bakugou was holding his breath the entire time. The more he read, the more he was convinced that there was, in fact, something going on beneath the surface and that the police and prison staff were one-hundred percent correct about their assumptions.

When they’d first been arrested, they’d definitely fought their incarcerations and made attempts to escape. But they’d mellowed out after a while, and even if they were in there for life, their sentences would be more bearable if they played along with the rules that were laid out before them.

But for them to start causing messes now? After five years of mostly good behavior?

It didn’t make sense to Bakugou, unless the theory was correct.

Whether the Director knew all the details was unknown, but that meant that his opinion was completely wrong about the whole situation, and that he was only trying to sweep it under the rug with Bakugou in charge of the investigation.

That fact was burning in Bakugou’s mind as he glanced away from his screen to stare up at the ceiling while running his fingers through his hair. He needed to start working on this investigation quickly, or the Director would try and sweep the whole thing under the rug and there would be no funding allocated towards it.

Bakugou let out a sigh before glancing down to the bottom of the email, and finding the number to the precinct that was heading up the entire investigation and the name of the lead investigator.

…

Bakugou stepped into the low-ceiling, dimly lit room with higher expectations for the precinct that was heading up one of the most important cases containing the League of Villains. But it actually made sense that a dingy precinct was chosen instead of one that had more resources available to them; it was because the Director didn’t want the investigation to go anywhere. Well unfortunately for him, he’d assigned Katsuki to the case, and he wasn’t one to let things go with nothing.

Most of the officers were lounging around in their chairs with a coffee or donut in hand, scrolling on their phones or mindlessly typing something up on their computer. He even thought he saw one watching porn in the far corner of the room.

He grimaced at the sight, but took a few more steps forward to the front desk where he looked over the counter at the secretary who was currently busy on his phone.

“Uhm, excuse me,” Bakugou grumbled out.

“Hmm?” the secretary looked up halfheartedly, taking a small glance before doubling back at Bakugou with wide eyes and standing up from his chair.

“D-Dynamight. I mean, ahem, Mr. Dynamight,” he said loud enough for the other officers to hear.

Bakugou watched as they all scrambled about in their spots and immediately went to typing on their computers with haste as they gave him the side-eye. Bakugou rolled his eyes before turning back to the almost quivering secretary with annoyance, most of it having to do with how the precinct was running.

“We weren’t e-expecting you here till tomorrow, Sir,” the secretary managed out under Bakugou’s scrutinizing glare. “Detective Masaki’s been busy trying to get the base information but-”

“I know that already,” Bakugou spat in response. “It was all in the long ass email he sent me. Tell him to come out of his office so we can discuss the case in person.”

The secretary’s eyes narrowed slightly as they tilted their head and gave Bakugou a confused look, “Sir, I’m not sure of you’re aware but Detective Masaki is-”

“Haruma, it’s okay,” a female voice interrupted from the side, and Bakugou looked up from the desk in front of him to meet the face of the voice who was walking up to the desk from the back.

“Mr. Dynamite, the name’s Detective Masaki. I’ll be working on the League of Villains case with you,” the lady said, sticking her hand out for Bakugou to shake.

Bakugou didn’t even look surprised at the fact that the detective he was working with was actually a woman. He was more focused on the fact that she was much more professional than the other extras who just seemed to be there to hang around.

At least one person in this god forsaken place actually gives a fuck about their job.

“You too,” he said simply before reaching out to shake her hand firmly.

He took the opportunity to observe her features under his heavy glare. She was tall and slender, with a bronzed complexion that matched her wide golden brown eyes. Strands of curly hair were sticking out of the bun she’d pinned to the back of her head, and that was one of his many indicators that she wasn’t, in fact, Japanese.

“Let’s go talk in my office,” she gestured behind her, before walking in front of Bakugou to lead him to the area it was located.

She held the door open for him, and he noticed as she carefully locked the door behind them and checked out of its windows quickly before pulling up blind. Once she’d finally sat herself in her chair on the other side of the desk, Bakugou observed her stoic expression before opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re not Japanese.”

She gave an amused smile, “I’m half Japanese, but I think that was obvious enough from my appearance. I’m from America, actually. But it’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Dynamight.”

“Call me Bakugou,” he grunted back. “It seems like we’ll be working together for a while so honorifcs aren’t really necessary.”

“Then you could call me Kana instead of my last name. If you remember, we go by first names in America.”

“I fuckin’ knew that,” he replied boredly.

“Right..” she replied.

The air between them was awkward, to say the least. They clearly were both headstrong people who wouldn’t take opinions from others. It was going to be an exhausting investigation.

“Well then, let’s get down to it,” Kana said as she crossed her hands together over the table. “I’m actually glad you came today, it means we have more time before the Director decides to pull the plug.”

“So you know about his stupid plan too then, right?” Bakugou asked as he leaned back in his chair. “He doesn’t want the investigation to go anywhere.”

“I think it was made pretty obvious when he decided to assign the case here, of all places,” Kana replied with a chuckle. “But even then, I think he forgot I was assigned here.”

Bakugou had been taking the time to observe his surroundings, and even though it was littered with coffee cups, papers, and files, he noticed the couple of plaques that hung on the wall at the back.

High honors, commended leadership, outstanding excellence…

“What the hell are you doing in a dingy place like this? As far as I can tell none of the fuckers outside have actually put effort into their jobs,” Bakugou asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I was demoted,” Kana sighed. “The Commission’s Director thought I was sniffing around in his business more than I needed to so he dumped me here. I went from being one of the best detectives in Japan to being forgotten.”

“That sucks balls.”

“Yeah,” she huffed a breath out of her nose. “But anyways, that doesn’t matter right now. You’ve read the email, right?”

“Obviously,” Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“So then it’s obvious that the next step would be to start the interviews with the villains. We weren’t able to do them before because we needed more oversight and there wasn’t enough protection to keep the prisoners secure. But now that you’re here it’ll be a lot easier.”

“I don’t think we should start with their interviews first,” Bakugou thought out loud. “It’s not like they’ll give up any information willingly, and we don’t know if the security of the prison would let us see them more than one time if they don’t give us anything useful the first time.”

“What do you suggest then?” Kana asked with an eyebrow raised and skepticism in her voice.

Bakugou at least understood where it was coming from though - this was her area of expertise. He was someone who was not really involved in these types of cases, or at least he wasn’t up until now.

“I’d say we start with the prison and security staff. You haven’t had proper interviews with them yet, right?” Bakugou stared off in thought.

“No,” Kana shook her head. “The only thing we’ve gotten so far are the files they gave us in order to request increasing the security around the villains and to put the ones who were attempting to escape in solitary. There were some basic facts in there but there wasn’t anything specific written down - just the whole thing about them acting weird and how they were talking about something going on outside of the prison.”

“Then I’d say that’s our place to start. If we have those interviews on record then we can use them to help keep the villains from lying to us, since they couldn’t deny anything that was previously said to the prison staff,” Bakugou affirmed with a nod.

“Fine then,” Kana replied with a huff. “I’ll arrange for us to start the interviews tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou replied tiredly.

He’d rather be working with Kirishima, and Monoma (of all people) on your case than work with this Kana bitch.

…

You waved at Camie as she drove down the street, leaving you on the steps in front of your apartment. The smile you’d plastered on faded, and you felt as your face settled into a hard frown.

It’d been hard trying to keep yourself smiley and peppy all day, and now that you were finally alone it came out easier than you’d expected. Staring blankly at the road seemed to take the edge of your emotions out of your head for a second, and because they’d been running rampant in your head since the previous night it felt like a break.

But that meant the return to reality was much, much worse.

There was some creepy guy who’d been stalking you, which became public knowledge, and Camie had informed you that your boyfriend, the person who was supposed to trust you more than anyone else in the world, had been hiding his emotions from you.

And now that you were thinking about it, it hadn’t even started because of the whole stalker case where Katsuki felt he needed to “protect” you by trying to keep you from the truth of his feelings. The first time you’d noticed it was when you mentioned meeting Izuku, but who knew how long he’d been hiding himself before that!

The pressure of your thoughts manifested itself into a headache, and you could no longer bear standing outside under the sun - even if it helped calm your nerves a little with the light breeze that’d started up - so you headed inside with a huff.

The day had been a weird one.

You constantly felt like you were being watched, only to turn your shoulder and see that there was no one there. And with you being so hyperactive with your surroundings and still not noticing anything abnormal, you were just beginning to think you were paranoid or going insane. But who could blame you, how else were you supposed to handle the news of being stalked?

You closed the door behind you silently, double checking that you’d locked it before finally sauntering off to the kitchen to grab something to eat. All the worrying was making you feel sick and you’d lost your appetite long ago, but you hadn’t eaten since morning and you needed something before you could take a pill to appease the throbbing headache that made the anxiety infinitely worse.

After finally settling yourself down, you plopped yourself onto the couch with the intention of watching some random movie to get your mind off of everything that was swirling around. But a notification from your email stopped you in your tracks before you could even grab the remote.

And when you opened it and read its contents, your heart almost stopped.

The Tokyo University Medical School regrets to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked.

──────────────

sorry this one took some time loll, but idk if it'll get much better since school's starting soon

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