#anyway did i tell you i was a linguistics student

[malottie]

niche take this will reach no one void hear my scream

the french name of the hurdy gurdy is dumb and i hate it. "vielle à roue" you dumb fuck. no folklore. no whimsy. litteraly just means 'string instrument with a wheel'. should've been called "ourdi gourdi". that rocks. other than sounding way more fun, parts of it sound like other words that have somewhat related meaning but also somehow zero etymological relationship ('hurdy gurdy' apparently originating from imitation of the instrument's sound)

"ourdir" means to prepare carefuly, often said about political plots or sometimes, cloth or strings; "être dégourdi" means to be resourceful, to know how to use one's skills and knowledge, and "gourde" originally describes a gourd, squash or calabash shaped container

you could then invent a false etymology combining these three words mixed together, saying that it comes from jesters and court musicians, often somewhat involved in court drama and described as sly, smart and skillfull in popular tales, and the gourd shaped instrument they would often play at receptions. of course it's wrong - it's nowhere close to the actual etymology, and the hurdy gurdy, which only relatively recently became more compact and stopped being a two-men's job, was really more a church instrument, while the court enternainers' iconic instrument is the lute, or other guitar-adjacent instruments like the mandolin

but it's just so much more fun. it feels right. it feels interesting and insightful. it for sure is not. but the simple thought exercise of making all this up made me really happy actually this is so fun

longue vie à l'ourdi gourdi

[malottie]

I tend to pronounce it /netzaX/ (API notation, X is a sound found in german or gaelic, in 'loch' or 'Bach', often described as a harsh /h/)

the correct hebrew/khabbalah pronunciation seems to be /netsaX/ (same but /ts/ instead of /tz/)

in game it's something like /netzah/, which makes sense as /h/ is one of the closest thing to /X/ in korean (english too, tbh), but /k/ is also decently close as evidenced by:

Malkuth being /malXut/, Chesed being /Xesed/ and Hokma being /XoXma/ (Binah is fine, it's /binah/)

the change was made as /X/ is found in very little languages, and the differences (why sometimes 'k', why sometimes 'ch' or 'h') could be explained by wanting the names to look and sound more distinct

Can someone please tell me how to pronounce this twink's name.

Everytime I see his name i keep thinking its pronounced "Nut Sack" and I just want to finally get this off my chest ;;

[autistic-writer-angel]

Octonauts Headcanons

May add to this, as I go:

Captain Barnacles:

Just everyone’s Dad™

All of them, except for Professor Inkling has called him Dad at least once. He doesn’t mind.

Nobody has ever seen him cry.

He spends one on one time with each of the crew members whenever he can (typically once a week with each of them).

Sings in the shower

Showers in the morning

Has pretty strict routines, but can also be flexible, given the unpredictability of life as an Octonaut

His birthday is in October. (I Googled when that flower that blooms every twelve years does so, to see if I could narrow down what time of year his birthday is. Apparently, the peak blooming period is in September/October and with OCTOber, I figured it fits!)

If anybody on the Octopod were to go to his room and tell him they had a nightmare, he would let them sleep with him. (The only ones who do are Peso and the Vegimals.)

Sort of a joke headcanon, but I'mma add it anyway: He has reoccurring dreams about playing his accordion on stage, with hundreds of adoring fans cheering for him.

Kwazii:

ADHD

Not just afraid of spiders, but needles too (not that he’d ever admit it!)

Often takes the GUP-B out just for the fun of it, but will also do so to get out of something (normally cleaning or when the Captain’s playing his accordion)

Sneaks into the Captain’s room to play with his model ships

Such a sweet tooth

Messiest of all of them

Peso:

Intimidated by Captain Barnacles when they first met

Stopped feeling that way after a difficult mission, where the Captain told Peso he was very proud of him

Puts the Captain on a pedestal

Looks up to all the Octonauts, but of course, he looks up to the Captain the most

Youngest and most recent to join

Still pretty recent to join when the series started

Anxiety

He has hundreds of family members and he remembers the names and birthdays of every single one.

Shellington:

Autistic

Bullied as a child; Pearl stuck up for him and they were extremely close as a result

His satchel is a comfort item and a seemingly bottomless pit. If you see him pull things out of it, you’ll think, Wow! How did you fit all that in there?

Mother calls him Shelly; she’s the only one who does so

(I can’t remember where I saw this theory, but I think it makes a lot of sense.) In addition to marine biology, he has an interest in linguistics. That’s how he was able to learn Vegimalese.

Does not care if you interrupt one of his infodumps. He will just keep talking.

Clumsiest and most absentminded of the crew

Do NOT watch any nautical themed cartoon with him (e.g. SpongeBob or Finding Nemo). He will just spend the entire time pointing out all the inaccuracies.

Best artist on the Octopod

Dashi:

Octopod’s unofficial DJ

Loves strawberries and strawberry flavoured things

Completely ignores danger while trying to get the perfect photo

Second best artist

Just loves babies! Any kind of babies!

Tweak:

Mother passed away when she was young; Ranger Marsh raised her all by himself

Known Captain Barnacles longer than any of the others

Even though the Captain is her dad and Kwazii’s her brother, she’s the mum of the Octopod.

Plays the banjo

Professor Inkling:

Most painfully slow driver you can imagine

Gives the best advice

Shellington was one of his (most talented) students. That was how Shellington got the job with the Octonauts.

Never leaves the library unless he absolutely has to

Leave him alone with a child and he has no clue what he's supposed to do

Also the case when someone's crying

Vegimals:

Always make sure they have a supply of everyone’s favourite flavour of kelp cake in case anybody needs some emergency comfort food

Often sleep holding hands (they learned this from Shellington when they were babies)

Sometimes sleep with one of the Octonauts (mostly Shellington, but sometimes the others as well)

We know they get stuck in the kitchen vent. Well, I bet half the time, they get stuck while showing the other Vegimals how they got stuck!

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 18.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

2608, 2610, 2612…

The numbers of the study rooms you passed by went up, up, up, as you continued your hunt. You knew he’d be here. It was the day before the first test in your Linguistics in Magical Creatures Studies class, meaning he was going to be holed up in the library until closing time. Now it was just a matter of finding him. Somewhere quiet, obviously, which was why you’d completely skipped the first floor with its wide-open ��collaboration areas.” The second floor was all bookshelves and private study rooms that would hold four or five students at most. You peered into the narrow window on each painted metal door as you walked down the hall. While the first floor was recently renovated with new technology and upgrades such as the “collaboration areas” and bright pops of your university’s school colors that made for great promotional photos to put on the website and pamphlets to hand out to new students, this floor hadn’t had seen anything more than a janitor in a good couple decades. The musty, stale smell of old, unused books was all around you, the air conditioning hummed and clicked irregularly, all the furniture had ugly, outdated patterns, and the exactly three desktop computers they did have in a far back corner were practically as old as you. Which, in the digital age, meant that they were artifacts belonging in a museum.

And of course, sitting at very last one, as if he had been hiding behind all of these bookshelves from you personally, was Huang Renjun.

Renjun was sat in the wooden chair facing the computer, clearly deep in thought. He had one foot propped up on the wide chair seat as both of his hands were on the archaic-looking keyboard, speedily typing something out. He wore a pair of jeans, yellow hoodie, and a red backwards baseball cap kept his hair out of his face. An open energy drink can and empty bag of chips on the desk next to him belied that he had already been there for some time.

Now that you had found your target, you put on a burst of speed, stalking up to him from the side and smacking your hand down on the tabletop beside him. “Renjun.”

The human jumped in his seat, looking up from his screen to you. Taking his hands from the keyboard, he made a couple quick clicks on the mouse as he used the other to take his headphones out of his ears. “Y/N. Fucking hell… is your new strategy this semester to give me a heart attack and kill me?”

“If murder was on the table as part of our little academic rivalry, don’t you think I would’ve just drowned you after our Intro course freshman year?” You asked, tilting your head innocently. After all, you were a siren, that would be much easier than scaring him into an early cardiac episode.

Huang Renjun was not your friend. Not necessarily an acquaintance either, you’d known him for going on four years now, since your first class on your first day of college. The two of you were in the same Introduction to Magical Creatures Studies class. He had sat in the very front row, you just behind him in the second row. When your professor had asked an open question to the class, both you and Renjun eagerly blurted out the answer, Renjun just a millisecond before you. Dr. Li gave him the credit, and also requested that you two raise your hands in the future. And from then on you hated Huang Renjun.

Well, hate may be a strong word. You overlapped in at least two classes every semester being in the same major, and were both chronic overachievers. The first to raise your hands when a question was asked, studying in the library until closing (separately), and visiting professors’ office hours just to discuss topics from class further. Your professors noticed this. Some would pit the two of you against each other, and others would try to pair you up, whether on projects, research, or just in general, as a meeting of the minds or whatever. And you two would get your project done, pocket your As, and part ways again. Academic rival slash frenemy was the best way you could describe who Huang Renjun was to you.

“Who knows, you might still, if they ask me to carry the banner,” he muttered, picking his pen up and spinning it between his fingers.

This was your last semester, both you and Renjun were graduating in just a few months. At commencement, each department picked one “outstanding student” to lead the progression, carrying a flag with the department’s name and seal on it. This semester it was Magical Creatures Studies’ turn to select a student for the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and your program head had already heavily implied that they could choose either you or Renjun, but they hadn’t made their final decision yet.

This was actually a pretty good segue into what you were really here to talk to him about. Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t know why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

“You’ve tried IP tracking?” Renjun asked, scrolling through your word document of notes that you’d accumulated on Dr. Magic.

“‘You’ve tried IP tracking?’” You mimicked him under your breath, making your voice so high-pitched to the point of mocking.

He rolled his eyes.

This was your first meet-up to try to hunt down Dr. Magic together. It was a couple weeks after he had agreed to help you in the first place. There was a test and some assignments in a few of your classes to get through first before either of you had enough spare time to dedicate to this. But now the two of you were back in the library, having taken a study room on the second floor and set up with your own laptops. You’d sent him your notes to look through on it while you perused the message board for any new posts from Dr. Magic.

“You do know that any geographical location an IP address can give you will just be the city, right? It’s not like the movies,” you snorted, dropping your voice back down to your normal intonation as you shook your head. “Anyway, I did do some extra legwork with the IPs, and matched most of them to desktop computers here in the library. I think the others are a personal device, their laptop or something.”

“They’re all different.”

You tutted at him, “Oh, you sweet Thursday’s child…”

“That’s not the say—”

“They’re all somehow on other continents. Now, I don’t think Dr. Magic teleporting abroad and cross-dimensionally to make forum posts.”

“VPN?”

“Definitely. They’re covering their tracks, they almost never use their own device, and when they have to, they use a VPN to cover up the IP address of it.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still focused on his screen.

Then, something on the forum caught your eye. “Oh! Right here. Thirty-six minutes ago, a dryad posted that she can’t sprout daffodils from her body anymore. Every other plant and flower are fine, except daffodils. She posted it specifically asking Dr. Magic if they know what’s wrong with her.”

“Huh.” Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Just daffodils?”

“That’s what it says,” you confirmed, making a few clicks on your computer. “And… ‘notify me.’”

“You can turn on notifications for forum posts?”

“You can’t,” you informed him smugly. “But one of the sirens in my pod, he’s got a bunch of CompSci friends who I paid to write a browser extension for me that bookmarks forum posts and sends me email notifications when anybody replies to them. So I’ll know exactly when Dr. Magic responds.”

“You…”

“Have definitely spent too much time, energy, and money on this, I know. Sunken cost fallacy, look it up.”

“I was going to say ‘are insane,’” he breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

When you looked up from your computer at him, you saw that he had a curious gaze fixated on you, eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parted, and head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

You leaned forward minutely, holding his eye contact. “Takes one to know one, Junnie.”

He looked down at his keyboard, shifting in his seat before he looked back up at you. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like it.” You smirked.

He frowned. “I didn’t say that either.”

“Well do you?”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine.”

“I asked first.”

“Ooh, how very primary school,” you teased, setting your chin in your hand.

“It’s only fair.” He pointed out.

“We could flip a coin.”

“Y/N.”

“Junnie.”

The human sighed, holding your eye contact wordlessly, looking entirely unamused.

You finally gave in with a casual shrug. “I just am.”

“Seriously? We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never called me that—you’ve called me plenty of other things—but now suddenly you’ve got a nickname for me?”

“I’m not trying to be derogatory with it, if you’re worried about that,” you clarified. “Just sort of happened. I’m a siren, I flirt with cute people, sorry. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some off his face as he turned his focus back down to his screen. “It’s fine.”

“Anyway, I bookmarked the new forum post, so it’ll go on the board.”

“The board?”

“I, uh, I may be using a spare wall in my apartment to host a conspiracy theory board with you know, the red string and thumbtacks and stuff…” You admitted quietly.

“Can I see it?”

“Ho-ly shit,” Renjun breathed out, staring up at the multiple time-stamped printouts of forum posts, pictures of classmates and faculty, sticky notes, and yards of red string that you had pinned to a blank wall in your apartment.

You stood next to him, gazing up at your creation with a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment. This was the first time you’d let someone see this, and you were kind of glad it was Renjun. He actually seemed impressed. You were sure that any of your friends and family would be weirded out at best, and very concerned at worst.

“Yeah, I’m adding color copies off the school printers to the invoice I’m sending Dr. Magic at the end of all this.”

“You’re sending them an invoice for your self-assigned mission to hunt them down?” He snorted.

“Yup. It’s their fault for not using their school-issued login.” You crossed your arms. “Makes them enigmatic.”

Your classmate pointed to one of the headshots. “Is that Dr. Li?”

“Did you think our scope was narrowed to just students? Faculty have access to the message boards, too. And we’ve learned everything we know from our professors, so they obviously have the knowledge and skill to be Dr. Magic.”

“And their names also start with Doctor.” He added dryly, which you took to be a joke.

You decided that it wasn’t at your expense, though, and after giving a short chuckle, continued on with your explanation of why you specifically had your program head up on the board. “When I was grilling Dr. Li for information in the fall, he was giving me very duplicitous answers. Pointed me towards a freshman who I swear didn’t even know the difference between Arctic sirens and glacial sirens.”

“You think it was a diversion.”

“Obviously.”

Renjun tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What sort of questions were you asking him?”

“I couldn’t straight up ask him if he was Dr. Magic. So I was asking him things like... other than you and me, who did he think was the best student in the program, that kind of stuff. Said that kid reminded him of you and me on that first day of Intro to MCS.” You couldn’t help but let out an indignant scoff at the idea. “Can you believe? Didn’t know the difference between Arctic and glacial sirens…”

“Who was it?”

“Some basilisk in one of his Intro classes last semester. Uh…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to remember his name. “Seunghan! Hong Seunghan!”

“Seriously?” The human turned to look at you incredulously, clearly offended at the comparison as well.

“Seriously!”

He clutched at his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “That’s who he thinks is the next us? I was an SI for that class…”

“I know! He’s not the brightest tool in the shed, huh?”

“So close, Y/N. So close…” He sighed.

“It almost completely threw me off my search for Dr. Magic. I figured I needed to seriously step up my game in his undergrad research or something.” You shook your head at the horrible memory. “Then I realized he might have been trying to get me to do exactly that.”

“Huh.” Renjun folded his arms over his chest as he looked away, pretending not to seem interested. “You did research with Dr. Li last semester?”

“Don’t give me those kicked puppy dog eyes, you’re doing research with Dr. Kwon this semester and she’s like, my academic idol!” You pointed at him accusatorily.

“And Dr. Li is mine!”

You waved your arms in front of you, shaking yourself out of the academic envy-induced frenzy you’d gotten worked up into. “We’re getting off-topic. We’re here to catch Dr. Magic, remember?”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, turning back to the conspiracy wall.

As Renjun studied your work, you studied him. You had a strand of fairy lights clipped up above the conspiracy wall for light and ambiance (mostly ambiance), and they now lit his features from the front. He didn’t have a baseball cap on today, leaving his brown hair to fall over his forehead, down past his eyebrows and just into his eyes. He blinked and shook his head slightly. A piece had presumably been bothering him. The curving slope of the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin that he still had one hand propped up to hold, a finger tapping against his cupid’s bow like a metronome. You listened closer, curious if it would be mimicking the beat of his heart. The tapping was just slightly slower than his heart, and would stop if he found something that he took particular interest in, then start back up when he moved on again.

Not that you were going to tell him, but you were double motivated to find Dr. Magic now. Seeing Renjun under your venom was going to be a reward all on its own. You understood full well why he felt like he needed to ask you as part of an exchange like this, but he seemed to greatly underestimate his own selling value. Which was good for you. This was a win-win-win in your eyes.

Thinking of the deal made you curious, though. He had that request ready to go almost like…

“So, do you want to be petrified by a basilisk, too?”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the wall. “Already have been.”

“Really?”

“My friend Mark is a basilisk. When he had just gotten his powers a couple years ago and couldn’t control them, he kept accidentally petrifying his human roommate. So I figured out when it was most likely to happen, invited myself over and hid his sunglasses. It was strange, being able to think but not speak, see but not blink, and telling my muscles to move and not having them obey.” He casually detailed what sounded like one of the most horrifying experiences ever to you, leaning in towards a specific post from November. “But it only lasted one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”

You stared at him with both admiration and alarm. “You manufactured an opportunity to get petrified.”

“I knew he wouldn’t do it if I asked. He’s a wimp. That, and he couldn’t do it on command at the time, even if he did agree.”

“Have you had your blood drank?”

“Yup.”

“Been flying?”

“How so?” His eyes flicked over to you for a second, and you were glad that you had relaxed again with the more casual conversation.

“With a gryphon, phoenix, take your pick.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a list for this stuff or something?”

“Written down, no. But I suppose I have a mental list.”

“Poisoned by a wyvern?”

“Would have to find one first.”

You felt your eyes bug out of your head. “You want to be poisoned by a wyvern? You know there’s no cure for that, right?”

“Yes, I took the same class that you did on them last spring.” He reminded you tersely. Your head jerked back minutely, surprised for a second that he had noticed, remembered, and brought it up. The two of you didn’t have a spat in that class, taking an ‘ignore and pretend the other doesn’t exist’ approach that semester when you could, and hadn’t mentioned it since. Seeming to realize what he’d done, Renjun rushed to move on, “So I also know that there’s no cure because they went extinct hundreds of years ago.”

“Supposedly.”

“You think they’re still out there?”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.” He stepped to the side to read over the next post from the first week of December.

You scoffed. “Okay, coming from the guy who believes in aliens.”

“We haven’t explored all of space. But we know what habitats wyverns lived in, and they’re not there anymore.”

“They could’ve adapted, gone somewhere else,” you tried to argue. “I’m not exactly splashing around the ocean right now, am I?”

“Where did they go, then?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, holding yourself by your arms protectively.

“Hmph.”

You tightened your grip, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to grow in your throat. “I just don’t want to believe they’re gone, okay?”

“So this isn’t a scientific hypothesis, but some rosy daydream?” Renjun’s disapproval of the lack of academic rigor in your argument was clear in his tone as his eyes never left your wall, following a red string up to your next connection for Dr. Magic.

“I don’t want to believe that wyverns went extinct because that means that sirens could too! Alright?” You finally snapped, hands squeezing tightly around your biceps as your claws came out with the raw burst of emotion. “I know that Magical Conservation was just some class to you, but I had to sit there and take notes on how exactly the native habitats of sirens—me, my friends, my family—are shrinking, and could theoretically lead to our extinction, and then write a discussion post on it after like it was some intellectually stimulating bit of information. So yeah, maybe I like to imagine that there’s still wyverns out there somewhere, because it gives me a modicum of hope that after everything, there could still be sirens, too. Sorry that that’s not academic enough.”

The image of Renjun that you had been yelling at in front of you was wavering as tears swam in your vision. He’d turned around to listen, mouth parting as he seemed to immediately realize his mistake. The human nodded regretfully, running a hand through his hair before finally picking his words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I-I misread the tone of the discussion. Sirens aren’t wyverns, and you won’t meet the same fate they might have. Siren advocacy and conservation groups are making huge progress. The world now is a lot different than it was hundreds of years ago,” Renjun said, and you could hear both the remorse and firm belief in his tone. “And who knows, maybe there are still some wyverns out there. I could be wrong... it’s been known to happen before.”

You took a deep breath, your claws receding back into your fingers and just leaving your normal fingernails. As you looked down at your arms, though, you let out a sigh.

“Damn, I got myself.” You clicked your tongue in your throat regretfully, spotting a few drops of what looked like molten silver metal welling to the surface where you’d punctured your skin.

“Ooh,” Renjun winced sympathetically. “Do you have some… bandages?”

“Even better, I’ve got running water.” You started towards the door, then noted that there were no footsteps behind you. Turning back around, you looked at the human knowingly. “Do you want to watch, Renjun?”

He perked up. “Please?”

“Come on,” you jerked your head, holding your arms level as you shuffled towards your kitchen.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been nearly deep enough to get your scales, just the skin overtop. Turning the kitchen faucet on, you grabbed one of your sleeves, then looked at your classmate imploringly.

“A little help, Junnie?” You nodded towards your other arm, where the end of your sleeve was getting close to your blood.

“Oh, sure.” He surged forward to help you roll up the other one.

“I know you know this but be careful not to touch my blood,” you reminded him, finally pulling up the sleeve you’d started on well enough. Siren blood was a neurotoxin to humans—and not the fun kind like your venom, but a proper ‘kill you in an excruciatingly painful way’ kind.

“Uh-huh, got it.”

A couple drops on your left and a drop on your right had run down to your elbows, and you just managed to catch yourself so that they dripped into the sink and not onto your counter (or gods forbid, Renjun). Looking over to make sure he was watching, you stuck your left bicep under the stream of water first. The ocean blue scales that peeked through your skin shimmered in the kitchen lights directly above your head. Thankfully you hadn’t come anywhere close to nicking one of those. That would’ve actually hurt. Within a second of touching the water your skin had meshed itself back together. You turned your arm to rinse off the blood, then brought it back out to show that there was no scar left. Doing the same with the other, it healed just as quick, no mark left behind to indicate that anything had ever happened.

“Yep…” Renjun breathed out as you grabbed a hand towel and went to dry off your arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

“How many does that make?” You giggled.

“What?”

“How many creatures have you seen magically heal themselves? What number am I?”

“You make me sound so…”

“Like a common MCS whore?”

“I was going to say clinical, but damn, tell me how you really feel, Y/N.”

Both of you laughed, and you put the hand towel back.

“You’re the first siren,” Renjun answered your question genuinely anyway.

You hummed as you mulled this over. “I’ll take it.”

He made a dramatic motion of wiping sweat off his forehead, and you reached forward to smack his forearm. You two laughed again.

After a bout of comfortable silence, your eyes settled on him again, still thinking about exactly how you’d accidentally stabbed yourself in the first place.

“I forgive you, by the way,” you said. “I don’t think I said that.”

“You didn’t.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“You really mean all that? You think I’ll—we’ll be okay? Sirens?”

“Of course I mean it. Or I wouldn’t have said it. It’s the most scientifically plausible. I did take that Magical Conservation class seriously, you know. I know it couldn’t have meant the same thing for me as it means to you, but I did my final paper on siren conservation projects in the Arctic. The progress that’s being made there is incredible. I-I don’t want to tell you about your own species’ problems, obviously, but—”

“I did mine on siren conservation in the tropics.” You let out a dry chuckle at the flawless symbiosis. “You can tell me about your paper sometime, Renjun.”

“And I’d love to hear about siren conservation in the tropics.”

“Ah, ‘a meeting of the minds.’” You did your best impression of Dr. Li, thinning your voice out to sound like an elderly man, which garnered a smile from Renjun. “Isn’t this what our professors always wanted?”

“Uh-oh. We’re giving them exactly what they want.” He shook his head ruefully. “Quick, you need to start yelling at me about something.”

“Well you need to say something obnoxious first.”

Another gentle lull in the conversation, and you watched as Renjun looked around your apartment a lot more carefully than when you two had first entered. Your destination then had been solely the conspiracy wall, but now he seemed to be really taking it in.

“So why don’t you have like… a fish tank or something?” He asked.

“Because that would be cruel! Imagine if someone kept you in a 2-foot by 2-foot box!” You jabbed a finger into his chest accusatorily.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.”

“I’m glad you said it, because I was about to.”

“So why don’t you reply? To the posts.” Renjun asked curiously, back to trolling the message boards for new Dr. Magic posts. You two were holed up in your second floor study room again. “You’ve been tracking Dr. Magic so closely, you’re getting to these posts before they do, and you can help all these students, too. So why don’t you just reply instead?”

Yours and Renjun’s search for Dr. Magic had been going on for a month now, and he’d been proving himself useful. He’d finally convinced you to rule out Dr. Li as a suspect when he found a message board post made from a school computer while Dr. Li was away at a conference giving a presentation. Confirmed to be done at the exact same time. So you’d found another wrong person, but you still didn’t feel any closer to the right person. The remaining people felt like they were going to turn out to be dead ends, and there was nobody good to rule in either.

Spring break was coming up in a few weeks, which meant that commencement preparations would be starting, which meant that the colleges would be announcing who would be chosen to carry their banners, which meant the actual students who were going to be chosen would be told at least a week or two ahead of time. Every time you thought about that you wanted to bite something. Maybe there was some ancestral link between sirens and werewolves. Another paper waiting to be written.

“They don’t want me. They want Dr. Magic.” You told Renjun, hating the irritable edge in your voice when you addressed him. You weren’t upset with him, you were just anxious in general. He didn’t deserve to have you take it out on him.

“Right. Sorry…”

“No, Renjun, I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking the wood pencil out of your mouth that you had been gnawing on. “I just want to get this Dr. Magic stuff over with before midterms because you and I are both going to get super busy studying for midterms, and then no matter which one of us gets picked to carry the banner, that’s going to suck up a lot of time preparing for commencement too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, sorry.”

He offered you a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s another deadline. But it’s a group project, remember? We’ve got this, Y/N.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Just feeling the pressure. I’m going to get something from the vending machine. You coming?”

“No, I’ll keep chugging along.”

“Okay. You want anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and rolling your neck out. “I’m going to stretch my legs while I’m up, so I’ll be a few.”

“I won’t sound the alarm then.” He gave you a two-fingered salute as you headed to the door.

You meandered around the second floor, taking your sweet time to get to the stairs. There was a vending machine on the second floor, but it had a limited selection. The good snacks were all in the vending machines on the first floor, by the collaboration zones. Your back cracked all on its own as you plodded down the steps, and you let quiet groans with each one, until you finally landed on the first floor. There was a noticeable hum to the first floor, which only increased as you neared the two-thirds of the floor that was taken up by the collaboration zones. The vending machines were on the boundary of the bookshelves and the open spaces filled with tables and TV monitors and so many students.

Stopping in front of the drinks machine first, you mused over the options for a moment. Picking out your preferred seaweed-infused iced tea—an option you only saw sirens and the really hardcore human health-nuts drink—you then sidestepped to the snacks. It took you just a second to select a pack of mini peanut butter sandwich cookies. Neither peanut butter nor peanuts themselves were in the regular diet of a siren, but Renjun sometimes had the cookies on him for one of his werewolf friends and you’d picked up a taste for them. You would’ve never considered even trying them before hanging out with Renjun. Being an MCS major, you didn’t like to admit it, but your social circle wasn’t very diverse species-wise. You had your siren pod, and you were very happy sticking with them, thank you. Renjun, meanwhile, seemed to be best friends or friendly acquaintances with everything except a wyvern. You knew plenty about other species, after all, you excelled in class. But practical experience, you were finding you seemed to be lacking in. Maybe you should start your own Renjun-esque bucket list. Something to consider after finding Dr. Magic.

Taking a step back over to the drinks machine, you made the split-second decision to get Renjun’s favorite non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic drink. Honeydew melon soda. He had already said that you didn’t need to get him anything, but you wanted to.

“Hey, Y/N!” A cheerful voice greeted you, and you spun around, your two drinks and bag of sandwich cookies in hand.

You already knew who it was going to be, smiling at the familiar face of Ten. He was not only another siren, but specifically a siren from your pod, ocean blue scales and golden eyes matching your own. You threw your arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Ten! Ah, hey!”

“Are those… peanut butter?” He looked at the snack in your hand suspiciously.

“Uh, human study buddy,” you brushed off his concerns nonchalantly.

“Right, gotcha.”

The two of you usually hung out a lot—about as much as you and Renjun were together now, you figured—but since your spare time had been taken up with putting the search for Dr. Magic on full throttle, you were blanking on the last time you’d seen him. The beginning of the semester. Oh shit, you felt so guilty now.

The apology immediately started spilling out of your mouth, “Gods, I am so sorry we haven’t hung out, I wish I could say it was classes, or even research or something, but I’ve got this project. I can’t even really explain it without sounding crazy but—”

“Woah, Y/N, it’s okay,” Ten reassured you with a laugh, the same bright smile on his face as always. “I know how you get when you get really into one of your projects. Just let me know when you’ve finished it, and we can hang. Or if you ever need a break from it, too. It’s fine. If you weren’t a little crazy and obsessive, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”

He ruffled your hair with a snicker for good measure, and with your hands full of food, you couldn’t fight back, just huff and try to duck out of the way. But he was genuine about his sentiments, which really did make you feel better.

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll get in touch soon, I promise. I think I’m almost done!” You told him proudly.

“Soon in normal person time or soon in Y/N time?”

“Me time…”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in six months then.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Remember when I wondered aloud if sirens at the North and South poles were related, and you ended up spending our entire winter break researching that?”

“It only took four weeks!”

“You said it would be a quick search.”

“Exactly! People will dedicate their entire lives to that kind of research! I vastly condensed it!”

He shook his head fondly at the memory, elbowing you gently. “Get back to your project so you can finish early again and we can hang out soon, okay? And scoot, I’m trying to use the vending machine. You’re always in my way, I swear.”

You playfully pretended to block him, laughing as he nudged you out of the way with his shoulder. Starting back off towards the stairs, you turned around to give a cheery, “See you, Ten!”

“Bye, Y/N!” He waved to you with one hand, punching in the vending machine code with the other.

In better spirits having seen your friend, you traipsed up the stairs with extra pep in your step. Except Renjun wasn’t in your study room. Huh. Well, nothing in the rules saying a guy can’t take a bathroom break.

Setting his melon soda down next to his laptop, you plopped back down in your chair and kicked your feet up on the table. You ripped open your peanut butter sandwich cookies and cracked open your tea. The cookies were sweet, and while you didn’t have any oceanic reference for what peanut butter tasted like (you were told that “nutty” was a flavor profile unto itself, which wasn’t very helpful), you had decided that you liked it.

Waking your laptop back up, you saw that you had a new email, and shot up in your seat when you saw the subject.

dr_magic2303 replied to a post.

8 minutes ago.

Holy fucking shit, 8 minutes ago. While you were in the library? They could still be there. You looked around frantically. Where the fuck was Renjun when you needed him? Shooting to your feet, you snatched your phone from the table and rushed to throw the door open. Into Renjun’s face.

He stumbled back, holding his face as he let out a string of curses.

“Shit! Sorry, Junnie!” You didn’t sound all too sorry as you bounced on your feet, antsy to get a move on with your search. “No time for an ice pack though. Dr. Magic just replied to that dragon post we had bookmarked eight minutes ago. Which means that they’re probably still in the library! We need to go look for them right now!”

You took off in the direction of the desktop computers on this floor, keeping your voice at a fervent whisper-yell. The second floor computers were their favorite, according to the IPs.

“I know!” Renjun hurried after you, still clutching his nose. “I saw the email, and I tried to call you, but you left your phone in the study room.”

Checking your phone, you did in fact have a missed call from Renjun from 6 minutes ago. Well shit.

“So I went to go get you, but you weren’t at the vending machines, so I came back up to the study room and then nearly got my nose broken.”

You looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. “You went to get me? Not look for Dr. Magic on the freshest lead we’ve ever had? When they were quite possibly around the corner?”

The two of you had arrived at the desktops, and there was nobody in sight. One was awake, on the account login screen, the other two asleep on the ancient screensavers. You let out a heavy sigh, looking over at Renjun.

“I went to get you because this is your thing, not mine. I don’t know, I’d figured you’d want the satisfaction of taking the mask off them.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Junnie. Next time, though, just get them.”

“And how about you keep your phone on you?”

“So we both fucked it up.”

He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. “There’s still three more floors, Y/N.”

“Right, come on. You take the first, I’ll go up to the fourth since I smacked you with the door.”

The other floors were busts, and when you finally met back up with Renjun in your study room, you were glad to have your cold bottle of tea waiting for you. Knocking back a third of it in one go, you let out a noise of relief. Renjun had already opened the soda you’d gotten him.

“Thanks, by the way.” He held it up gratefully before taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”

“And, I’m sorry. That I let Dr. Magic get away.”

“We don’t even know what floor they were posting from yet. They’ve could’ve been on the fourth floor and would’ve been gone by the time you got there anyway.” You brushed away his apologies. “Or they could’ve been on the second and been a psycho and you would’ve been a poor defenseless human all by yourself.”

“Oh, right, without my big strong siren to protect me.” He scoffed. “Woe is me.”

“Exactly,” you laughed, shutting your laptop. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at the IP later. Who knows, they might not have even been in the library. Might’ve been one of those rogue VPN posts.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked over you packing up your things. “You heading out?”

You nodded, zipping up your bag and tossing it onto your shoulder. “Prior arrangements. Sorry to cut this short, completely forgot about it when we agreed to meet up.”

“You’re so popular.”

“I know!” You mimicked his sarcastic tone, holding the door open with your foot as you stopped in the threshold. “Oh, hey— the midterm in MCS Linguistics. It’s my only one this semester, I’ve just got papers in all my other classes. Do you want to study together for that?”

“Yeah, sure, sure.”

“First session Saturday? My place for lunch?”

Renjun grimaced, presumably remembering your typical stock of pantry items tailored to a siren’s food preference. “I’ll pack a lunch.”

“Cool. See you in class, Junnie!” You waved to him cheerily as you took off for the faculty advisor meeting with Dr. Kwon that you were going to need to run across campus to be on time for.

“What is it?” Renjun set his book down where he was sat across your coffee table from you, an inquisitive eyebrow quirked up at you.

“What? Nothing.” You bit down on your lip, eyes boring holes into your computer screen.

“No, it’s not ‘nothing.’ You’ve been staring at me ever since I got here, while also refusing to make eye contact with me. What? Something in my teeth? My hair look bad?”

Normally that would’ve made you chuckle—he was wearing a backwards baseball cap again today—but you just bit down harder on your lip and shook your head.

“Now you’re refusing to talk?” He scoffed. “Did you get hexed or something? I can’t believe you’re refusing to talk.”

“No, I can talk,” you insisted. “What uh, what’d you get for number four? On the review packet?”

“Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on number four. Y/N, I’m almost done, and there’s twenty-five questions on this.”

“I’m not, I finished and went back, it was just one that I didn’t—”

But Renjun had grabbed your computer and turned the screen around, and you knew he could see that you had only done the first one. You buried your face in your hands, your skin prickling uncomfortably with shame. Your friend’s sigh was audible, but surprisingly, the next thing said wasn’t a string of derision. Instead, you heard the shuffle of clothes against your rug, and then he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee with you.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you today? Or, not today, the past couple days? You weren’t all there in class yesterday either. I left it alone then because it was Dr. Hyun, and nobody is ever all there for her classes but— what’s wrong?”

You slowly shook your head.

“You can’t tell me?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Is it bad? Like, dangerous?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, that’s good.” The relief was audible in his voice. “Is it family? Or, pod?”

You shook your head.

“School?”

You nodded.

“Alright, yeah. A lot going on. Is it like burn out?”

You shook your head.

“So, new stuff?”

You nodded.

He put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you already had a lot. Getting this midterm over with will be one more thing off your checklist, right? That’ll open a spot for this new thing.”

With a sniffle, you nodded.

“Ah, but you’re not going to be any good studying like this.” He sighed again, dropping his arm from around your shoulders and his presence shifted away from your side. “Come on, quick field trip. Then we’ll come right back to the MCS Linguistics grind. Sound good?”

You finally took your hands from your face to look up. Renjun was standing right next to you, offering you a hand. You tentatively put yours in his, and he tightened his grip to pull you up to your feet.

The two of you ended up in a froyo shop down the street from your apartment. You gleefully picked a gummy shark off the top of your swirl, biting the head off first before tossing the rest in your mouth. Renjun lifted a meticulously curated spoonful of froyo and toppings to his mouth, satisfaction on his face as he tasted his perfect bite. You watched in amusement as he went to start creating his next scoop that had the precise ratio of yogurt and every single topping he had chosen—each partitioned to their own area atop the froyo. You decided to save your second big gummy shark for last, and took a big spoonful from the melting edge of your froyo.

“Why not me?” Renjun asked abruptly, his gaze still on the dessert in front of him.

“Huh?” Your jaw dropped. How could he have known what—

“You haven’t asked me if I’m Dr. Magic. Why not?”

Ah, Dr. Magic. Of course.

“You were my first guess, and the first person I ruled out back in like September,” you admitted with a shrug.

His head snapped up at that. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re such an arrogant, neurotic overachiever that you’d want credit if you did all this. You wouldn’t use an alias.”

“Oh. Huh.” Renjun looked between you and his froyo, a sheepish smile coming to his face. “Strangely, that makes me feel better.”

You watched a dollop of froyo fall off your spoon and plop back into your cup. “And I nabbed your IP address off your laptop the first time we hung out in January and double-checked it with every Dr. Magic post. Just in case.”

“When I was in the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course you did.”

“Were you taking it as an insult to your intelligence that I had apparently not considered you as an option?”

“Maybe…”

You laughed, and laughed, and laughed. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, there were tears in your eyes, and you genuinely started wheezing. Renjun pretended to roll his eyes, but you saw the smile on his face and knew what he was thinking: success, no more mopey siren.

Once you had enough air back in your lungs to talk, you pointed your spoon at him firmly. “See? Just proving my point. You want people to know you’re smart.”

He crossed his arms. “As if you don’t.”

“Oh, I definitely do. But I know I’m like that.” You put a hand over your chest, looking him dead in the eye. “Do you?”

With your head screwed back on the normal amount, you and Renjun were able to dive back into your study session at your apartment. Several hours into it, though, you noticed Renjun blinking like way too much and constantly rubbing at his eyes. It was to the point where it was distracting for you.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” You asked bluntly.

That immediately burst the Renjun griping dam (which was really held together with tape and prayers anyway). “The screens hurt my eyes and human blue light glasses don’t do shit and no fairy has let me try theirs out. I know I should probably just take the plunge and buy them but I really can’t justify the price and—”

“Try mine.” You stood up, walking over to a display shelf on the other side of the living room.

“You have a pair? Why? Sirens don’t—”

“You collect magical experiences. I collect magical things.” You said nonchalantly, grabbing the pair of silver frames from where they sat between a phoenix feather (a gift) and a small wristwatch that would tell the correct time until it was put on, then it would be set on the time and date most significant to the wearer in that moment until it was removed. Walking back over to him, you held them out to him insistently, “Here, try them.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Renjun gingerly took them, sliding the arms over his ears and the frames onto the bridge of his nose. The pair you had was a little older, admittedly. You’d picked them up at a novelty shop, so they had some retro charm to them. An older style of frame, thicker lenses. But you thought it added a quaintness to their look. Especially on Renjun, he just looked downright adorable in them.

You sat back down to watch with your head in your hand as his brown eyes blinked from behind the thick lenses, and he looked around your living room like a newborn woodland animal. His face had already relaxed, and he turned his focus down to his laptop screen next, messing with the brightness up, then down. After that, he took out his phone, doing the same with that device.

“Well?” You prompted him, though you truly would’ve been content with watching him look around as if he’d been born colorblind and it were his first time seeing in color. Which, you had an enchanted pair for that too, but he wasn’t colorblind to your knowledge.

The human looked at you, a giddy smile stretching across his face. “They’re perfect! Thanks, Y/N!”

His hand reached up to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Keep them—”

“No, these had to be so expensive!” He protested immediately.

“Just for a week or so,” you finished your sentence pointedly. He was cute, but not that cute. “Make sure you really like them before you buy, okay? If you end up hating them, give them back. If you like them and buy your own pair, you can give them back whenever yours arrive in the mail.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m using them. Superior siren eyesight.” You tapped next to one of your eyes for emphasis.

“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything.”

Scrambling to dial Renjun’s number, you put your phone on speaker as you fervently flicked through all of your Dr. Magic notes. You’d been laying in bed binging some mindless baking competition to numb your brain from all the studying you’d been doing when an email notification had popped up alerting you to a new Dr. Magic post.

“Y/N?” Renjun answered the phone, sounding utterly confused. “What’s—”

“New Dr. Magic post. I ran the IP and they’re in our city!” You blurted out.

“Okay… Well we already knew that, right?”

“Yeah, but this is an IP in our city that they posted from at midnight on a Saturday. Not any of the school computers.” You hit CTRL + F, typing in the string of numbers to quickly cross reference it with your extensive list. “This could be their IP. Like, their actual one, from a personal computer.”

“Oh, yeah. Could be.”

“Can you give me a little more enthusiasm here, Junnie? Did I wake you up or something? It’s only—” You stopped like you’d just walked face-first into a brick wall, eyes locked on the search result.

“Yeah, only quarter after midnight,” he scoffed.

You clicked the next arrow on the search bar, but that was the only match. 1/1 results.

“Y/N?” Renjun called for your attention. “You there?”

You hung up.

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you pressed the doorbell over and over insistently. You could hear the complaining tone of the occupant before his words were even audible.

“Christ, I have neighbors, you know?” Renjun swung open the door with a scowl. The human was in a big, slouching hoodie and pajama pants. His hair was stuck up in a couple different directions, making you think he might’ve just woken up. Except behind him, you could see that his kitchen light was on, and a couple books and his laptop were open on his kitchen table. Late night studying. And the fact that you’d just talked to him on the phone fifteen minutes ago.

“Can I come in?” You requested, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cardigan.

His face immediately softened. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry to just show up like this,” you said as you took off your shoes by the front door before following him further into his apartment.

“It’s okay.” He stopped you two in the kitchen, picking up a colorful, patterned cardboard box. “Uh, I was just about to make a midnight snack. Pizza bites, you want some?”

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had them.”

“Perfect, you can try one now then.”

“Mm,” you made a non-committal noise, leaning against his kitchen counter to watch him pour out the frozen food onto a baking sheet.

The oven beeped, and he put the tray in before pressing a couple more buttons.

“So, I was thinking about the Dr. Magic stuff. Not the IP stuff but like… What even is your plan for when you do find Dr. Magic?” Renjun asked as he put the remaining pizza bites in his freezer.

“What do you mean?”

He leaned against the countertop across from you, though in the narrow space of his kitchen, you were practically knee-to-knee. “Like, say we finally find out who they are, we run up to them in the library or on campus or something. Then what? What are you going to do? What are you going to say? You’ve done all this, and I know why you had to. I get it. But, do you know what you’re going to say to them?”

“Probably something along the lines of…” You trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh. Dropping your chin to your chest, you groaned, “Gods, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s why you got me. So you can bounce ideas off someone, do a dry run.”

“I thought the words would just come to me, and now that I’m trying, I can’t—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s think about why you did this. I know it’s really hard to put into words. I mean, I know why you did. I get it. It’s that need to know. Not because you can, but because you have to, right? It’s curiosity in its rawest form. So obviously it’s not going to be some schmaltzy ‘haha I caught you’ spiel or anything.”

Looking up from the kitchen tile to Renjun’s eager features, you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re still helping me… when I know it’s you, Junnie.”

He tilted his head to the side, a comical noise of confusion coming from his mouth, “Uh?”

“I know it’s you, and you know that I know that it’s you.”

“You already ruled me out, because I’m an arrogant—”

“Junnie, you made a post on the forums from your laptop. No VPN. When you knew I was still tracking Dr. Magic’s IP on every post they made, and that I had your IP. That’s not a whoopsie that you make unless you want to be caught.”

The human crossed his arms over his chest, but otherwise seemed entirely calm about being caught. “And you didn’t come in here guns blazing now that you’d caught me, either. Why?”

“I didn’t know how to say it. I mean, you’re right, I only did all this because I needed to know.”

“And now you know.”

“Why now? Why just give up now?” You asked with a shake of your head. “You started posting as Dr. Magic back in August, and I came to you in January. You knew everything I was doing; you could have cruised through the rest of the semester and I’d have never caught you.”

“You wanted to find out who it was by midterms. One less thing on your plate.”

“And now I know…”

“So how does it feel? Finally catching Dr. Magic?”

You wrinkled your nose and sighed, “Bit disappointing. I was right on my first guess.”

“And you immediately dismissed me out of hand for being an arrogant, neurotic overachiever on your first guess,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really know you then. If I’d known you then like I know you now, I would’ve known as soon as I saw the first post.”

Renjun batted his eyes teasingly. “Aww, Y/N…”

“Doctor underscore magic two, three, zero, three? Twenty-three, oh-three? That’s your birthday, Junnie,” you deadpanned.

“Right.”

Pushing off the counter to stand up straight again, you said, “Anyway, you did help me find Dr. Magic. So, my turn.”

“Oh, no, you seriously don’t have to do that. I rigged the deal—”

“Yeah, about that.” You took a step forward. “How did you think that was going to end up for you, anyway? Were you going to sell somebody else out as Dr. Magic and hope I wasn’t going to talk to them? Spit in your mouth first and ask questions later?”

“I was thinking on my feet.”

“Maybe think laying down next time, Junnie.”

“Ouch.”

“Anyway, come on, you’ll want to sit down for this.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the living room.

“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” he reassured you.

Stopping the two of you in front of the couch, you turned to face him with a smirk. “Believe me when I say that it is going to be a treat unto itself for me to see you under the effects of siren venom. M’kay?”

Renjun’s surprise was evident on his face. “Oh.”

You stepped closer to him, delicately placing a hand on his chest. “Now unless you want me to literally spit in your mouth, I’m going to have to kiss you, to administer the venom.”

His eyes flicked between the hand you had on his chest and your face as he replied. “I’m okay with that—the kissing—if you are.”

“Renjun, I’ve been ready to eat you alive since you said the words ‘I want to experience siren venom for science’ to me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. So why don’t you sit?” You guided him with the hand against his chest to sit back against his couch. Swinging one leg over his hips, then the other, you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, tentatively settling his hands on your thighs. “Is this okay?”

“More than.” You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Now, a couple things, before we get started.”

“We haven’t started?”

“You’ll know it when we do.”

“Right.”

“I know you think you know what siren venom is like, but whatever scientific articles you’ve read, or documentaries you’ve watched, or slides you’ve studied under microscopes in lab, cannot actually prepare you for what it’s like. Which, I imagine is why you want to experience it for yourself.” You smirked down at him as you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. “So before I actually dose you up with it, I need you to tell me what you’re actually okay with doing and what you’re not. Because once you get my venom in you, you’re going to want to let me do anything and everything to you, up to and including kill you, remember?”

“Well that’s off the table.”

“Good to know,” you snorted, running a fingernail down the nape of his neck. You felt a shudder go through him. “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. You halted your motions to let him think, and watched in amusement as he blinked his mind clear.

Once enough time had passed, you prompted him, “So?”

“I think just kissing,” Renjun answered. “Like, making out, or whatever. If you want…”

You snickered. “What part of ‘eat you alive’ was I unclear about?”

“The ‘eat’ part, actually. How literal is that?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” you teased. Then, you focused again as you sat back a little. “Okay, making out. Making out means different things to different people. So… we know kissing’s on the table. Tongue?”

“Yeah.”

“Teeth?”

“Where?”

“Waist up. You got somewhere you don’t want them?”

He took a moment to think about this. Then shook his head. “No. You can use them. Anywhere.”

“Same goes for you. Hickies?”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both. You first.”

“Both are okay. You?”

You were already zeroing in on his neck and a small part of his collarbone peeking out from under his hoodie. “Same. Touching over clothes?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t think it’ll be too much with the venom…”

“Oh, Junnie, everything is going to be too much.” You grinned down at him.

His breathing had picked up pace as the two of you were talking. “You? The touching?”

“Good. Great. Touching under clothes?”

Renjun squirmed underneath you, but maintained your eye contact. “Just under my shirt.”

“Smart boy,” you said approvingly. “Me too.”

“Is that it?” He asked quietly, eyes now flicking down to your lips.

“I think so…” You looked around the room to buy a couple extra seconds of thinking time. When you hadn’t come up with anything else, you looked down at the human below you once more. “Ready, Renjun?”

“Yes.”

You took one final look over him like this, how much he already wanted you before he’d even gotten any of your venom in him, and dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip instinctually. His heartrate jumped, and you wondered if it was fear—if the motion had reminded him perhaps of a hungry predator—or need. Or maybe a bit of both.

But you couldn’t tease him nor yourself any longer, swooping down to connect your mouths. You started off with just a couple light, closed-mouth kisses, to ease him into it. You heard him inhale quickly through his nose, his grip on your thighs tightening minutely. Swiping your tongue across the seal of his lips, you were delighted when he immediately parted his mouth in response, his tongue seeking yours out. You hummed contentedly into his mouth as you started stroking a fingernail down the back of his neck again. At the same time, your venom was beginning to mix in with your saliva, being passed onto Renjun.

Once his jaw started going slack in the kiss, and his hands slowly slid off your legs entirely to rest lamely at his side, you deemed him plenty dosed up. Consciously, you blocked off your venom glands once more. When one particularly drawn-out scratch down the back of his neck finally elicited a noise from him, an involuntary whine, you felt something in you snap. You needed more of that.

“So this is what siren venom feels like…” He mumbled breathily, letting his head loll back against the couch cushion as you kissed a path down his jawline and neck. When you felt his breath hitch in his throat over one particular spot, you decided to take your time there, sucking and nipping a mark into his skin.

When humans were… locked in a lover’s embrace, they let off a certain perfume distinguishable only to sirens—which was what made them the favored prey of sirens for so long. A human under the influence of siren venom? Delectable. And every human’s was unique too, so Renjun under the influence of your venom? Absolutely addictive.

With each kiss you stole from his lips, every nip you left on his neck that you then soothed over with your tongue, you got another taste of it. A sweetness that came with a bite, like ginger candy.

Renjun was still talking, though, his vocal cords vibrating under your lips. “My-My heart’s beating so fast, and I’m so warm—that’s so the ocean water doesn’t feel cold, of course—”

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” He closed his mouth, looking up at you with glassy eyes, waiting. Gods, he was so pretty like this.

You crashed your lips back on his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongue as he tried to keep up with you. But you knew that your venom was in full effect now, every single one of his nerve endings was approximately three and half times more sensitive. So you were sure it was all a little overwhelming. But he was definitely trying his best, kissing sloppily into your mouth with hungry, desperate whines.

Pulling him back off with your grip in his hair, you traced a thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, cooing over how fucked-out he looked like this. “Oh, baby. Oh, poor Junnie. What’s wrong? Can’t even kiss me properly because it feels too good? Baby’s overwhelmed with just a little bit of kissing?”

He opened his mouth wider, darting the tip of his tongue out to brush against the pad of your thumb. You pushed the finger in his mouth, groaning as he immediately closed his lips around it. “Gods, you’re perfect, Junnie.”

Taking your thumb back out of his mouth just to grab his chin with the same wet digit, you attacked his lips with yours again. Ginger candy. His hands that had been lamely resting at his sides the entire time now fumbled at something in the area where your hips met.

“What? What are you trying to do, baby?” You asked, leaning back to look down. He was grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, unsuccessfully yanking it up towards his head as part of it was stuck under one of your thighs.

“‘m too hot. Please…” He panted, dropping it as he looked up at you pleadingly.

You nodded slowly in understanding, knowing that one of the effects of the siren venom was an increase in body temperature, not to mention what you two were just doing. The collar of another shirt was visible underneath the sweatshirt. “Okay, Junnie, we can take your hoodie off. But only the hoodie. Your other clothes are staying on, understood?”

He nodded quickly, hips bucking up against you. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, his hair getting stuck to the damp skin. You shifted back on his lap so that none of the sweatshirt was under you anymore, grabbing the hem and reaching behind him to yank up from underneath him as well.

“Sit forward for me, baby?” You requested in his ear sweetly.

Renjun obliged as best he could, leaning forward to get his back and shoulders off the couch. You pulled the hoodie up over his head, tossing it off to the side, leaving him in a black t-shirt that certainly couldn’t be helping much either. But having that heavy layer off seemed to provide some relief for him, as he let out a sigh, falling back against the furniture again.

You giggled as you settled back into the crux of his lap again, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. “Is that better now, Junnie?”

He shook his head, and you arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh? What’s wrong, then?”

Renjun tugged gently at your cardigan where it had shrugged down to show one of your shoulders. “Please?”

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you thought this over. You had a tank top on under the cardigan, and both of you were still wearing everything else. Not to mention that you were starting to get a bit warm too. Sirens ran naturally cooler than humans, so you were sure that to him, you felt practically refreshing right now, but you honestly were a bit hot for a siren’s tastes.

Giving a contemplative hum first, you finally relented, “Alright, Junnie. But just my sweater. Everything else stays on, because we didn’t talk about that before the venom, do you understand?”

He rushed to strip you of the knit cardigan, his mouth following his hands’ path down your skin. First on your shoulder, then down your arm. You let the garment drop on the floor behind you as he kissed back up along your shoulder, then over the fabric of your tank top until he got to your collarbone, and finally the hollow of your throat. Fondly stroking the back of his head, the pleased purr that had started in your chest turned into a surprised moan when he licked a long stripe up your throat.

Holding his face in your hands so that your noses brushed, and your lips barely ghosted over each other, you let your breaths mingle in the meager space afforded. Renjun ended your little anticipation game quickly, kissing you tongue-first, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, sucking on his tongue with lewd, wet noises. He moaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your waist for purchase first, then slipping and curling into the material of your shirt, bunching it in his fists.

Slowing the pace of your kisses, you eventually sat back, appraising the state he was in. You affectionately ran a hand through his hair as you took in his blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and pink cheeks. “Junnie? How are you feeling? Need a break?”

You hadn’t given him another dose of venom since the initial one, which wasn’t very large to begin with. But this was his first time experiencing it, so you wanted to check in. He should be just past the peak of it by now, starting to come down but for all intents and purposes still very much intoxicated. Siren venom wasn’t meant to last very long, after all, it took an adult human less than a minute to drown.

“Need you…” He insisted, arching up towards you.

Indulging him in one, two more feverish kisses, you pulled away once again. “I know, baby. And you’ve been doing so good for me. So I need you to tell me if you need a break. Okay?”

“’kay.” He agreed before you sealed your mouth over his again.

Kissing down from his mouth to just under his jaw, at the same time you trailed a finger down the center of his front until it got to the hem of his t-shirt.

He nodded fervently before you could say or do anything more. “Please… please…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” you quieted him down gently. “Doing so good for me, Junnie. The best.”

You slipped your hands under his shirt, just to stroke his waist. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed at your thighs again, but you couldn’t tell if it was an attempt at reciprocity or to have something sturdier to ground himself to than your flimsy tank top. The corner of your lips quirked up as you pressed a couple more kisses down his neck to hover your lips over his pulse point, content to start a new mark there as your hands continued to explore under his shirt. It was when you gently raked your nails down over his pecs that you got the loudest moan out of him yet, and you groaned in response.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” you nuzzled your nose into Renjun’s neck, then pressed a couple relatively chaste pecks to his cheek. “Just perfect…”

Taking your hands back out from his shirt, you silenced his whine at the loss of contact by slotting your lips together once more. You cupped his face with one hand, using the other to take one of his hands off your leg and lace them together, palm to palm. This seemed to make him content once more, especially when you brought your connected hands up to the back of the couch, pinning his behind his head. He squirmed under you, letting out a familiar noise of pleasure into your mouth and squeezing your hand tightly.

You knew the venom was well and truly starting to wear off when Renjun began keeping pace with your slow, lazy kisses, his mouth not as sloppy but no less delightful as it moved in tandem with yours. The thumb of the remaining hand on your thigh started to stroke over your skin, and the hand that you were holding gave yours a gentle squeeze. You gave him one, two last lingering kisses, drinking in the dwindling taste of ginger candy while you could, Renjun matching you beat for beat.

Unlacing your fingers and dropping your hand from his face, you drew back from him. Before you could say anything, though, Renjun grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in for one more kiss, sinking his teeth into your already tender, over-kissed bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours again on his apparent mission to try to kiss the breath from you. A nigh impossible task for a human to do to a siren, but it definitely felt like he was succeeding. He was crushing his lips against yours so hard you were worried about him drawing blood—not because you would mind the pain, but for fear of his safety if he got a direct hit of your blood in his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you were desperately trying to remember if you had maybe accidentally opened your venom glands a second time later on, but just drew a blank. That wasn’t something you did unaware, it wasn’t automatic, it had to be done on purpose. Then, for a brief moment, you were worried about secondary wave syndrome—some humans break down siren venom in two phases instead of one, and the second one almost always kills them if they’re not brought to a human medical doctor for treatment—and you started running through the symptoms as well as the nearest human emergency rooms in your mind. Burst capillaries in the eyes, refusal of food and water, the hospital three blocks over should have an ER, right? But the kiss didn’t feel like when he’d been intoxicated on your venom before, this one felt deliberate, in control. He was in control. You let out a small moan at the thought, and Renjun’s lone hand on your thigh tightened in response.

Once he finally let you go, you both sat there in silence for a good few seconds, you still on his lap. You stared extra hard at the whites of his eyes. They looked normal. He seemed… normal.

It was rare for either of you to be speechless, much less the both of you.

“Well…” you broke the silence. “That was siren venom. You should drink some water. Stay right here, I’ll get it.”

You climbed off of him, heading into his kitchen. Looking at the oven, you were wondering how the timer hadn’t gone off in that entire time when you saw that it wasn’t on. The words ‘TIMER SET?’ were flashing on the screen at you, and the preheat hadn’t been started either. The pizza rolls had just been slowly defrosting on a pan in the cold oven. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching into his fridge for his Brita filter then securing a couple cups from the cabinets.

Walking back into the living room, you handed the human his cup of water and remained standing as you took a sip of yours.

“You didn’t start the oven, for your pizza rolls,” you informed him quietly.

“Wh— oh, shit,” Renjun groaned, tipping his head back. “I guess I don’t get to give you your first pizza roll tonight.”

“That’s okay.” You dropped onto the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“So… that was siren venom,” he breathed out, then took a long gulp of his water. Definitely not second wave syndrome.

“That was siren venom,” you confirmed with a laugh, fondly brushing a piece of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You were right… I was not prepared,” he admitted with a laugh, taking another drink.

“So do you think you would’ve let me kill you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve given you my credit card info, bank password, spilled all of my friends’ worst secrets, let you kill me, killed someone else if you asked me. God, that was…” He said with wide eyes, shaking his head. But there was a familiar glint in his eye as a smile cracked across his face, “Incredible.”

“Glad you think so,” you giggled, patting his chest. “Now don’t become a venom junkie, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you did and it was my fault.”

“I won’t. Not really what I meant anyway.”

You grinned slyly at what he seemed to be implying, that it might not have just been the siren venom, but that it was you and your venom that made it so incredible. Like how every human had a slightly different essence, every siren had a unique chemical signature in their venom. It’s why using it non-consensually nowadays would be extremely stupid (as well as just an immoral thing to do and also a crime)—it can be matched to the siren in a lab like DNA. In addition, anecdotally, every siren’s venom was said to produce a slightly different high, but no mass studies had backed that up. You were inclined to believe the stories, though.

Renjun was still a bit hazy, though, still riding the high of the venom, so you decided to tuck a conversation like that away for another time.

“So why did you pick Magical Creatures Studies? Other than you’re insane?” You redirected the topic to a more neutral one.

Renjun didn’t seem put off at all about this jump. “When I was a kid, my family traveled around a bunch, for my dad’s job. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of beings, some of them became my best friends, and I never wanted to stop learning about it all.”

“What does your dad do?”

“Government job,” he answered, suddenly interested in picking at his nails.

You furrowed your brow thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… Huang Renjun. As in, your father is Ambassador Huang? That we’ve had to write papers on in class?”

Ambassador Huang was the first human ambassador sent on diplomacy trips to outside nations of magical creatures post-integration. His trips had largely been considered a monumental success, and credited as a big driver behind the huge uptick of immigration that your city has been seeing from outlying areas in the past couple decades. You’d hardly gotten through a single contemporary MCS class without directly learning about him or at least hearing his name. And you’d apparently been going to school with his son for four years and just pumped said son full of your venom and made out with him while he was high on your venom.

“Yeah…”

“Dude! What the hell? You didn’t think to mention that at some point?” You asked incredulously.

“And sound like some uppity nepo kid bragging about my dad? No thanks,” Renjun snorted.

“Yeah, maybe not like day one but like… I don’t know, before I used my venom on you!” You nudged his arm teasingly.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just venom-ed Ambassador Huang’s son!”

“Oh my God, could you not call me that?” He snapped at you. “This is why I don’t tell people! Because now I don’t have a name anymore, I’m just Ambassador Huang’s son.”

You immediately realized your mistake, your stomach dropping as you heard the hurt in his words. “Renjun, I’m—”

“Just go.” He demanded, standing up from the couch and putting distance between you two again. “We both got what we wanted, right? You found out who Dr. Magic was, and I experienced siren venom. That’s all this was, so you can go. You don’t owe me anything else.”

You clenched your jaw, setting your cup on the end table beside the couch. Picking up your cardigan from the floor with as much dignity as you could, you pulled it back on. Neither of you said another word as he watched you stalk over to the front door, shove your shoes back on, throw the door open, and slam it closed behind you.

Drumming your fingertips along your keyboard, you squinted at the flashcards on your screen. You were in a sour mood, which had persisted ever since you’d left Renjun’s last night feeling used.

Ten was next to you at your picnic table outside the student union, finishing up a pencil portrait sketch of one of his other friends—one of the CompSci majors you’d paid to write your browser extension, actually. Dejun, a dragon, whose slit pupils, many bejeweled earrings, and a singular fang poking out from under his top lip featured prominently in the portrait. The sketch was part of Ten’s midterm portfolio check-in for one of his classes. Midterms were literally this week. Like, right now. You forced your sharp teeth further into the wooden pencil in your mouth.

“You’re going to ruin your cuspids like that, Y/N,” Ten chastised you calmly, rubbing at a line with the pad of his ring finger to smudge it before flipping his own non-mangled pencil around and continuing to sketch with the graphite.

“I’ll grow another set,” you grumbled, but took the writing utensil out of your mouth nevertheless.

“And have no teeth in the meantime. Real sexy siren stuff. Sure to lure all the hotties to their deaths looking like GamGam missing her dentures.”

“Shut up!” You shoved his head away, earning a loud peal of laughter from your friend. “As if you’ve been pulling anybody yourself. You’re literally a siren art major covered in tattoos that he designed himself, more piercings than a dragon, including nipple rings, and you haven’t been on a date in… what, almost a year?”

“So we’re both disappointments to the good siren name, huh?” He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just a couple of poor, celibate sirens doomed to be disgraces to their species forever…”

“Can you not yell that to the entire courtyard, dude?”

“What? Not announce very loudly that you haven’t been with anybody in exactly four—”

You lunged to cover his mouth before he could publicize precisely how long it’s been since you’d hooked up with someone. Ten immediately broke down into laughs behind your hand that was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking even as you smacked him on the back of the head with your other hand.

“Gods, what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him. “You’re a menace to society. And me.”

When you’d finally let go of his face, he said through a couple more chuckles, “Hey, you could easily do it back to me.”

“Why would I want to do that? And the fact that you’re suggesting it makes me think that you want me to do that, which makes me want to do it even less. You freak.”

Before your podmate could respond, you caught sight of a figure approaching your table head-on. Setting your jaw, your body immediately tensed. There was no mistake, Huang Renjun was walking straight towards you. Ten seemed to have noticed the shift in your body language and mood, as he didn’t say anything further, quietly going back to his sketchbook as you watched Renjun get nearer and nearer.

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, stopping not quite at the end of the table beside you, but next to the end of the bench across from you.

“What do you want from me now, Renjun?” You replied bitterly, pretending to return your hands to your keyboard as if you were going to refocus on your studies.

“Uhm, to talk, I guess?”

Ten interjected, “Do you guys need a second? I can go—”

You held him in place with a hand around his wrist, your voice curt, “No, Ten. Stay. This will be short.”

Your friend lowered himself back down into his seat.

You then set your hard gaze on Renjun. The marks you had left on his neck were still visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Moving your eyes from that to his face, you cocked your head to the side. “What’s in it for me? You established that our relationship is purely transactional, remember? We apparently just use each other. You scratch my back, I spit in your mouth, quid pro quo.”

“Okay, I’m going now,” Ten declared, wrenching his arm from your grasp to grab his sketchbook, pencils, and backpack before taking off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t see you like that at all, I just... I got defensive and snapped. It’s not an excuse, but still, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” Renjun shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but you could see the genuine remorse on his features.

You breathed in, then out.

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, letting your voice relax back to the natural softness that it held around Renjun. “You’re your own person, aside from just ‘Ambassador Huang’s son.’ I’m sorry for treating you like anything other than Renjun.”

“It’s not that I’m not super proud to be his son or anything, I think he’s really awesome. He was my hero growing up; still is. I mean, I’m going into the same field as him. Kind of. You know? It’s just because we’re going to be doing the same kind of thing, I want to be able to be looked at for what I do. Good or bad.”

“Bad? You plan on using your degree for evil, Renjun?” You teased, scooting over on the bench seat to take Ten’s previous spot and freeing up a place for Renjun to scoot in beside you.

“I could,” he played along, gladly taking the seat offered.

The two of you made eye contact, then burst into laughter at the same time.

“What?” He questioned in mock offense. “I think I’d make a great evil dictator, personally. You don’t think so?”

“Not at all, you’d be great at it.”

“Thank you. My friends don’t take my threats so seriously.”

“Which will ultimately be their downfall.”

Renjun looked back out at the campus in front of you two, his voice turning serious again, “But, seriously, I mean, I don’t want people having all these lofty expectations for me and then be disappointed when I don’t change the whole world, nor do I want them making things easy for me because they know my dad.”

“That’s fair. Unattainable, but fair to wish for,” you nodded in understanding.

“Ugh...” He slumped forward, dropping his head into his arms atop the table.

“Look, Renjun…” You rested one hand on his arm as the other rubbed up and down his back supportively. “You can’t change who your dad is, and you said it yourself, it’s not like you’re ashamed of him either. So don’t brag, and don’t be a dick when somebody brings him up either. Just do your best to show people who Huang Renjun is. And if they still don’t get it, that’s their loss. Because I already know him, and I think he’s pretty cool.”

Renjun sat back up to look you in the face with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re such a cheeseball. Aren’t sirens supposed to be alluring and enchanting?”

“Shut up! I will drown you! See how alluring I am when you’re under a siren call,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m kidding.” He grinned at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “That really did make me feel better, thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back. “You’re welcome, Renjun.”

The two of you kept smiling at each other for a moment before he broke the eye contact, looking down at his hands then shifting his gaze back to the courtyard.

“Uhm, while we’re airing stuff out about last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, Junnie?” You tilted your head to the side, watching as his cheeks started flushing.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. I kind of popped off on you right after... everything. But thank you, for taking care of me before, during, and after. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about what we could and couldn’t do beforehand. Thank you for that, and for getting me the water. And... all of it in between...” His ears were bright red too at this point, but he managed to look you in the eye as he gave you his genuine gratitude.

You nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you felt cared for during all of it. In addition to, you know, everything else you felt.”

“Mm, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Studying his face curiously, you said, “You look like you want to ask me something else.”

“Well, I feel like you still weren’t very clear on the ‘eat me alive’ thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, Junnie, I’m not going to actually eat you—”

“I mean...” Renjun took a deep breath. “I kind of always feel like I’ve got a little bit of siren venom in me when I’m around you, Y/N. My heart races, and my skin is warm, and everything is just better when I’m with you. I want to see you when you’re not around, and when things are hard for you, I want to make everything better. I like you, and between the Dr. Magic deal, and our stupid academic rivalry, and what we did last night, I don’t know what I am to you, but that’s how I feel.”

If someone had told freshman you that Huang Renjun would ever say words like that to you, you’d have laughed in their face to the point of tears— or slapped them. And yet, in that moment, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. It was the most natural, beautiful, delightful, perfect thing that could’ve happened. Just like you leaning over to give him a modest, near-demure kiss on the cheek, absolutely beaming at him as you pulled back.

“I like you too, Renjun,” you admitted.

His eyes went wide before a broad, tender smile spread across his features and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He let out a drawn-out sigh of relief, “Ohh, that’s one weight off my chest for this week.”

You laughed in agreement. “Me too. Actually makes everything feel lighter.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “So how much do I owe you?”

“What?”

“You said you were going to invoice Dr. Magic. For the browser extension, and the color copies, and whatever else. How much do I owe you?”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think before a smirk pulled across your lips. “Mm, should be exactly the price of one nice dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie? Just how many copies were you making?” He asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“A nice dinner,” you reiterated. “I paid those CompSci majors fairly for their time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Friday night after your last midterm, you were knocking on Huang Renjun’s door. The two of you had seen each other this week for your Linguistics in MCS class, but had been utterly locked into academic mode and hadn’t met up aside from that. So, per his invite, you were here in your “midterms best”— i.e., the pajamas you had been wearing at your own apartment since submitting your last mid-semester draft earlier today. You’d been told this wasn’t going to be a fancy affair.

Judging by the pajamas that Renjun had also answered the door wearing—giving you vivid déjà vu to the last time you were here—you were dressed appropriately for the occasion. He led you in by the hand, informing you there was something he wanted to show you in the kitchen.

You came to a stop in front of a plate piled high with small, pillow-shaped pieces of dough, some with bursts of red sauce leaking out of them. You couldn’t help but let out a sputtering laugh. “Pizza rolls? Did midterms scramble the egg on your face so bad that you missed the part where I said nice dinner?”

You might not have ever eaten pizza rolls, but you knew what section of the grocery store they came from.

“I can’t even tell what that was supposed to be… You’re so beautiful…” He was staring at you with a look of pure adoration, and surprised you by giving you a fleeting peck on the cheek, gone as soon as you’d realized what he was doing. Your hand instinctually came up to brush at your skin, almost in disbelief, as he went back to explaining his plans for tonight. “Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your first pizza roll the other night, and I figured that the last thing you actually wanted right after midterms week was to go out to some hoity toity place and be out at the movie theater really late, right? So, I’ve got pizza rolls, peanut butter cookies, your seaweed tea, and like way more snacks and candy and stuff. So we can chill and watch whatever movies you want tonight, unwind from midterms. And then next weekend, we’ll do your nice dinner and go to the movie theater. Think of it as an IOU.”

A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you nodded your approval. “Mmm… you’re right. This is great, Junnie. Thank you.”

Set up on Renjun’s couch with the assortment of snacks—pizza rolls included—and your first movie chosen, you settled in next to him, knee to knee, under the same blanket as the two of you ate. You decided that pizza rolls weren’t that bad (you still liked peanut butter sandwich cookies better), convinced Renjun to try some of your ocean flakes again—a favorite snack of sirens, which he’d already tasted on one occasion at a Dr. Magic hunting session and hated—to similar results, and finished off a bottle of seaweed-infused tea by the time the first movie was about a third of the way done. At this point, you were pretty satiated food-wise, and set your empty drink bottle on the coffee table to sit back on the couch.

Linking your arm with Renjun’s, you rested your head on his shoulder as he was still finishing up his plate of pizza rolls. “That was good, Renjun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I call dibs on little spoon first, by the way.”

“Damn.”

Once he was done eating as well, you laid down to eagerly take your promised place as little spoon. Renjun stayed partially propped up against the arm of the couch so he could see the TV as you were nestled back against his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist. Your fingers played with his under the blanket absentmindedly as you got used to your new place, with him, in his arms.

“Renjun?” You said into the quiet. The only noises were coming from the TV. The movie was nearly done, just a couple little resolving scenes after the climax left. You’d seen it plenty of times before—both of you had, it was a favorite that you’d discovered you two shared earlier in the semester—which was why you’d picked it, an easy watch that you both liked. But nothing that required your full attention, so you could talk or miss scenes if you wanted.

“Yeah?” He responded just as softly.

“This is really nice. Hanging out, just us. No school, no Dr. Magic.”

“I know. Almost doesn’t feel real.”

“What? That we’re hanging out without trying to kill each other?”

He let out a couple laughs, catching your hand that had been playing with his under the blanket and lacing your fingers together. “I think there’s definitely some people that would be shocked to see us right now. But I meant more-so that we don’t have any schoolwork to do right now, and that the whole Dr. Magic thing is finally over. Other than the dinner that I owe you.”

“Oh… I owe you… I-O-U…” you sounded the words and letters out slowly. “I get it now.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed dreamily, brushing your hair away from your face to press two kisses to your temple in quick succession.

You turned over to face him to properly protest, “Hey, I didn’t grow up around humans, you know that, right? I just came here to go to school! I moved here like, two weeks before our first day of freshman year—”

“I’m not making fun of you, Y/N!” He promised, sandwiching your hand between both of his and squeezing it tightly. “I respect how difficult it must have been for you to acclimate to the new culture and city when you moved, and so suddenly, on top of starting school. I just love y- love when you do that. Genuinely, I’m so charmed by it. Endeared. Bewitched. Whatever word you want to use. It’s something I never noticed until this semester, when we started doing the Dr. Magic stuff together. Despite knowing you for so long, in the department, in classes.”

“You know what I never knew about you before this semester, Junnie?”

“What?”

“That you were such a softie,” you snickered fondly. “I thought you were all textbooks and GPA and flashcards and whatever.”

The human ducked his head bashfully. “It’s something I’ve been working on this year.”

“Between this and Dr. Magic, I think you’ve been doing pretty well.”

“Thanks.”

“So, why did you do it, Junnie?” You asked curiously. “Not be a softie, I mean, but…”

“What? Be Dr. Magic?” He clarified, to which you nodded. “I didn’t mean to make a persona like that, really. I had to pick a screenname, and the guys had jokingly called me that a couple times when I helped them out with some problems. That’s all.”

“I know why you started the account. Knowledge. That’s also why you didn’t get the credit. You just needed to know. Though, the story behind the name is cute,” you pinched his cheek, and he tried to deter your hand with his shoulder half-heartedly. “I mean more like, why were you hiding your IP and using VPNs and stuff before you even knew that I was trying to track you down? In the fall.”

“I made the first couple posts from the school computers just because I like to do my work there, I wasn’t trying to cover anything up. Then I pictured what I’d do if I found someone posting like I was on the forums. And I would’ve tried to find out who they were. So I started covering my tracks a bit more intentionally after that. Didn’t want any groupies rolling up on me.” He pinched your side teasingly with the last sentence, and you slapped his hand away with an eye roll.

“Oh shut up!” You scoffed, ignoring his hands as he tried to pull you back towards him again.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckles. “If anything I’m your groupie, I swear. Your number one fan from the moment you showed me your conspiracy board.”

“Mm, fine.” You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you once more. “Glad we got that cleared up.”

Renjun shifted to lay on his back, and you easily followed the move to snuggle in mostly on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and your hand on his waist, fingers innocently smoothing over a patch of skin above his hipbone where his shirt had ridden up. It sounded like the credits were on by now, but you didn’t really care about picking another movie as Renjun hummed along to the familiar song that played over the scrolling names. You’d sing along too, if you were alone at your own place. But now you didn’t dare even hum like the human with you for fear of what it could do to him. Renjun’s voice was plenty lovely enough though, even just this casual little bit humming. You’d see if you could get him to sing for you properly one of these days. If an opportunity came before graduation. Who knew what your days would even look like before then.

Gods, graduation. You felt like you could shrivel up and die just thinking about it. Not to mention that you hadn’t even told Renjun that you’d—

“Hey. What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked, his disapproving tone clear.

You gulped. “How could you tell I was thinking about something?”

“For one, you’ve got your bad thinking face on.” He pinched your bottom lip. “You pout. It’s very dramatic. You look very concerned.”

“I have different thinking faces?”

“Yeah, you look different when you’re studying. I’ve seen you do plenty of that to know the difference. And you’ve got a third face when you’re contemplating. Usually you do that one when you’re looking at menus.”

“I didn’t know I was apparently an open book.” You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“It’s cute, Y/N. You’ve got a cute face, and you make cute facial expressions with it, don’t cover it up.” He gingerly grabbed your hands to encourage you to take them off. “Except I am worried about what’s making you make your bad thinking face right now. What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you pushed up into a sitting position. Renjun followed your lead curiously, a thoughtful frown on his own features as he watched you pull your knees to your chest.

“Renjun, I need to tell you something.”

He regarded you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Okay… go for it.”

Nervously, you smoothed out some wrinkles in your pajama pants as you confessed, “Uhm, Dr. Kwon asked me to carry the banner at commencement. I said yes.”

“I knew that.”

“What?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

“Well, since it was midterms already, I figured that if they’d picked me, they would have asked me by now and since they hadn’t, then they must have picked you. I was just waiting for you to tell me so I could tell you… Congrats.” Renjun grinned brightly at you, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.

“You’re not upset?” You asked trepidly.

“We’re not petty little freshmen anymore, Y/N. No, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you, you deserve it.”

“So did you.”

“Not any more than you did.” He shook his head firmly. “So would you just accept my congrats already?”

You gave a small, shaky smile. “Thank you…”

“There we go.”

“This is what I was so freaked about… when we went to get froyo.”

“You were afraid of me being mad at you for being picked to carry the banner?” Renjun asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defended yourself. “And now I have to do the commencement practices, on top of senior capstone and my extracurriculars…”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, commencement practices. So glad I didn’t get picked now, actually.”

“And that was so convincing, Junnie.”

“You remember what you said to me when we got froyo?”

Scrunching your face up, you struggled to think back to the exact conversation you had that day—you’d been really stressed. “Uh, ‘exactly two gummy sharks on mine please?’”

“Well, yeah, your hyper-specific froyo order—”

“Throwing stones at black kettles much?” You teased.

“Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes went wide.

“Is that not—? I really thought I got it that time.”

“Did you mean to say ‘throwing stones in glass houses’ and/or ‘the pot calling the kettle black?’”

“…Yes.”

He turned very serious as he went to tenderly cradle your face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you in like two seconds after I finish what I was saying, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you agreed weakly, wishing very much that he’d just do it now instead of making you wait. He then let your face go.

“When we were talking about wanting people to know that we’re smart,” Renjun clarified. “You said that we’re both like that, and you knew that you were like that. And then you asked me if I knew that I was like that. I had tried to swear up and down this entire time that I was doing all of this—the needing to be the best—for myself. But it wasn’t. I’m like that too. That’s kind of what Dr. Magic was, me taking a step back from needing everyone to know I was the smartest person in the room. A quasi-experiment, to see if I could do it.”

“I think that after graduation, maybe we both chill on being the smartest person in the room, and try to just spend a summer working on that magical bucket list of yours?” You suggested.

“Oh?” He perked up at this. “Really?”

“You ever seen a werewolf shift?”

“No…”

“That sounds like a ‘not yet’ to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He confirmed with a conspiratorial grin that mirrored the one that you could feel across your own face. “You know how sirens can’t get dosed up on their own venom?”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wondering where he could be going with this.

“Well, I know a witch with a proprietary love potion blend that I think we might be able to modify to produce similar effects.”

“Fascinating.” You thought on this for a second, very quickly running through your knowledge of potion properties to imagine what it could be. “Two-factor blood potion?”

“Yes. But we’d put your venom in it instead of your blood so it wouldn’t kill me.”

“That could work…” You mused. “Speaking of, I should really give you a full dose one of these days.”

He breathed in sharply. “That wasn’t a full dose?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit…”

“Have you ever watched a phoenix reincarnation?” You added another suggestion to your joint summer bucket list.

“Have you? Wouldn’t that literally blind us?” Renjun questioned, something akin to genuine concern on his face now.

You shrugged. “Allegedly. It’s never been recorded in a lab setting, so who really knows.”

“I think we’re going to get each other killed before we can get our PhDs,” he declared with a fond smile and shake of his head.

“Hey, the betting pools said we’d kill each other by junior year, so I think we’re doing well for ourselves.”

“Do you think we can collect on those bets when we graduate and we’re both still alive and have all of our limbs?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh my god, come here,” Renjun groaned deliriously, kneeling to grab your face with two hands and crash his lips to yours. You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him down with you as you fell back against the arm of his couch, still connected.

Yeah, you’d drive off that burning bridge when you got there.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[cozymochi]

Can you tell us more about Cecil and his familiar? 🥺

I kinda did once here, tho to be fair it’s more so about Silver, but some there are some Cecil tidbits are in there.

Actual answer under cut.

Oleander is Cecil’s authorized familiar. Night Raven College does allow familiars, so long as they’re authorized beforehand. Under what circumstance I can’t say since that information isn’t entirely clarified in twst itself as of writing this. It’s mentioned by Crowley in the prologue that having an unauthorized familiar was considered a violation (under the context of thinking Grim was MCs familiar at first).

Though until further confirmed info is granted about this I can’t really say much with total certainty. Since none of the main cast has any (and therefore not relevant), it’s hard for me to really truly go ham on what functions familiars at NRC even have. Professor Treins cat Lucius is his familiar (but I also can’t be sure if as a staff member he’s allowed to do more than students can, i.e being allowed to just hang in classrooms). I will always modify info as more real info is unveiled and explicitly clarified.

^The above is just there to show the context I’m working under. Anyway, preamble over. Will yap now.

🌿 Oleanader (or just “Ollie” exclusively by Cecil affectionately) mostly stays within Diasomnia. He hates the small cute animals that break into their room thanks to Silver’s presence and will actively scare them away. He’s a very proud yet semi-reclusive bird.

🌿 Cecil got Oleander shortly after his magic manifested as a child. They’ve been inseparable since.

🌿 Between classes, during club activities, and within Diasomnia, Oleander is always near Cecil or perched on his shoulder. They clearly “communicate”, but Cecil’s animal linguistics is very poor so Cecil doesn’t actually know what Ollie is saying at all. Despite that, however, they’re still clearly very close and it doesn’t seem to affect their ability to communicate all that much in the grand scheme.

🌿 When Cecil is in class, Oleander will usually fly around campus and hang out within the trees. He’s usually out of sight, but never too far away to the point that he can’t come if Cecil calls for him.

🌿 Oleander is really good at finding things for potions. That’s kind of his thing.

🌿 Oleander becomes really protective and territorial if somebody else challenges Cecil or pushes him around, but will also visibly “laugh” at Cecil’s own self-afflicted mistakes and misfortune. It’s okay though, payback comes in dressing Ollie up in little bows.

🌿 Lucious and Oleander hate each other in equal measure.

🌿 During some of Crowley’s breaks, he and Oleander are sometimes seen chatting. It’s not known what they’re talking about, but Crowley is usually in tears from laughing so hard.

🌿 Oleander is just the Wormwood to Cecil’s Cedric.

(Random factoid I suppose: “Mugwort” was inspired from Wormwoods name since the plants names are sometimes used interchangeably. Wormy rep always has been here.)

Shoutout to all one maybe two people who read this stuff.

[thecooler]

Magnetar

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart.

Fandom: Adventure Time

Pairing: Simon/Betty

Additional Tags: POV First Person, POV Second Person, Grief/Mourning, Alternate Universes

Word Count: 3,368

AO3 Mirror

Simon Petrikov

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart. Regardless of your linguistic preferences, though, you, Simon Petrikov, are living in a college dorm about thirty years and change after you last expected to be.

It’s just you in the room. Last time you were in dorms, you had this wad of a roommate named David, who left his laundry on your side of the room and ate your ramen packets without asking. You’d often told your fiancée, Betty, about David. She always giggled at the disdainful lilt your voice would take when you said his name— David, like you might say the name of your least favorite grade school teacher, or your weirdest ex. David wasn’t your weirdest ex, though, that was a different guy, though his name was also David, which Betty always had a good laugh over the first time you told her.

Betty is coming over later tonight, after you’re done with classes. You love her very much. You’ve been seeing each other for what feels like forever.

You pull a pair of matched socks out of your drawers and slide them on, then adjust your bow tie. You look in the mirror, and for a moment, you see a flash of blue. You blink, and find it’s just yourself staring back. Your hair’s started to grey. Betty thinks it looks good on you.

Betty Grof

The school library has always been something of a safe haven for me. In elementary school, being weird meant that I didn’t keep friends for long, and the librarians were always terribly fond of me. They’d give me little tasks to do, like wiping down tables with a cloth or putting a book or two back if I was good. I relished in these small favors. I’ve always yearned to be useful.

In high school, I managed to make friends, because high school is when people who are ahead of the game realize that being weird and being cool are basically synonyms. And some people still give you grief, but when you have friends, it’s a hell of a lot easier to ignore those people. I didn’t need to spend time in the library, then, to avoid my own loneliness. But I returned anyway, because I found the scent of books and the old, dusty carpet in my hometown’s old library to be a comfort. When I turned sixteen, the director of the library took pity on me and gave me a job. By the time I made my way to University, I was already well on my way to building myself a decent resume.

I don’t remember how I got this particular gig, and it doesn’t really matter.

All that matters is that in this life, this is the library where I met Simon Petrikov.

He’s inevitable, a cosmic force that I feel myself drawn to in every universe. He was a bit older, when I met him here, in his first semester. He was looking for an old volume from Kant. He’s always stubborn— he paced around for a good hour before he asked me for help. When he did, I looked at him and smiled and said, “Are you saying you kant find it?” and he’d laughed way more than the joke called for. He always laughs like that at my jokes, like he thinks I’m the most brilliant person to ever walk the earth. Like he’s never once looked in a mirror.

Simon Petrikov

Your first class is at eight am and all the way across campus. You often joke about how it’s fine, because you could use the cardio and the regular sleep schedule. But you always end up leaving ten minutes late if no one’s pushing you out the door, and you don’t think you’ve ever once jogged willingly in your life. You walk at a regular pace across campus, and you’ll get there when you get there. You don’t usually miss much in the first five minutes anyway, though you don’t love the glare your professor shoots you when you creak open the old, heavy wood door.

You sit in your usual spot and listen to the lecture, but it all sort of starts to blend together. You’re suddenly quite tired, and you can feel your eyelids drooping when shuffling starts around you. With a start, you realize it’s time to head to your next class. You blink and stand up suddenly, stumbling when vertigo gets the better of you. A young man you don’t recognize rests a steadying hand on your shoulder and says, “Come on, Simon, I’ve got you,” and his blue eyes look rather sad.

He’s young, you think, too young to be here, until he’s not. You blink, and he has a beard and a chest tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his tank top. You swear that wasn’t there before. “Simon?” he says again, his brow furrowing. You don’t remember telling him your name.

You look at this young man, and you find yourself at a loss for words. You recognize in his gaze a familiar sense of prolonged grief. You’ve never met him, but somehow you think you’ve known him your whole life, or at least his.

“Are you okay, man?”

You nod, slowly, and it doesn’t seem to convince him. “Betty’s coming over tonight,” you say, “I must have  gotten distracted thinking about it.”

Betty Grof

Once, when we were a lot younger, and before the crown changed everything, Simon and I went hiking together. Usually, when we went on excursions, they were meticulously planned. He had every step of our journey plotted out on a spreadsheet or a numbered list, the creation of which was usually his favorite part of the whole thing. Which wasn’t to say he disliked the excursion— more so that he really liked making lists and spreadsheets.

But we’d gone without this time. I worried it was because I teased him about it, even though he knew it was good-natured, or at least I’m pretty sure he knew. I didn’t think he was actually upset, because Simon always wore his feelings on his sleeve, and when he was worried, he got this crease between his eyebrows. On such occasions, I’d kiss his cheeks until he relented and forgave me, for which I was declared a menace to society. So I don’t know exactly why he decided to forgo the spreadsheet this time, but he refused to make one, even when I tried to nudge him to in the hours before we left.

So we went off into the bush on the outskirts of Seattle, near a farm that some friend of Simon’s owned. We had two backpacks full of trail mix and a sleeping bag, but no tent, because Simon said that he’d been orienteering since he was old enough to walk, and he’d get us out of the bush before we needed to sleep.

Naturally, then, we did not make it out of the forest in time. Instead, we found a nice, open clearing, and we lay down on the grass together and looked at the stars. Simon was fidgeting with his shirt sleeves.

I said, “It’s really okay, Simon. You know I don’t mind a little roughin’ it,” and I waggled my eyebrows. It wasn’t really an innuendo, but I’d never been one to miss an opportunity for a double-entente, no matter how half-baked. I meant it, too. Laying under the stars next to the Simon Petrikov was basically a dream, even after five years of dating. I think it’d been five years. Time is different here, it’s hard to tell. Hard to remember how time moves for mortals.

He turned on his side and he looked at me. Back then, before Evergreen’s crown took root in his mind, his eyes were a deep, thoughtful brown. He said, “You would really tell me when I’ve got a bad idea?”

I turned over and smiled, “Would it stop you if I did?”

And he’d closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and breathed, “No.”

Above, the cosmos shone down, ambivalent to us. It would be hundreds of years yet until we tried to make it ours, and in doing so, fell apart.

Simon Petrikov

You walk to your next class with the unfamiliar old friend. He says he shares the class with you, though you don’t think he seems like the Anthropology type. He pats you on the shoulder and laughs at pretty much everything you say, even when you aren’t making a joke. This feels to you like condescension, but you can’t detect anything other than earnestness in the boy’s face. He looks to be in his early-to-mid twenties, but his eyes are much older.

Your daughter, Marceline, joins you. She has a guitar strapped to her back and you know from experience she isn’t above busting it out in class if she thinks it’ll make the situation funny. Her girlfriend, Bonnie, walks beside her. These are two more people you’ve known for impossibly long, and yet you struggle to pin down any specific memories associated with them. It’s as though your mind is a blank slate, with information slowly being accumulated atop it. Marceline doesn’t look like you, and you don’t think she looks like any of your exes, either. You wonder how the two of you met, then, but you know this is not something you can ask.

She looks back across the hall at you, and you abruptly realize that you’ve stopped walking. You’re staring at her, with her hand in Bonnie’s back pocket, and you feel light— happy. But you don’t have the context for these emotions. Your mind feels like an unorganized mess, as though a cosmic being has reached in and shuffled things around, removed some with the intent to put it back, only she forgot. And now nothing makes sense to you, even things that should be second nature.

Marceline’s brow furrows and her lips tug down into a frown. She presses her palm against the small of Bonnie’s back and whispers something to her, before walking back towards Simon while the other girl makes her way towards class. Somewhere along the way, the boy vanished, like as soon as he was out of your line of sight, he ceased to exist. You tense with the realization that the world around you feels more empty than it ought to be.

Marceline places a hand on your shoulder and meets your eyes. In the reflection of her deep brown irises, you see yourself with ragged white hair, and then one of you blinks, and it’s you again. “Simon,” she says carefully, biting her bottom lip and tapping a finger against your shoulder. She takes what feels like several minutes to decide what she’s going to say, though it can’t be more than thirty seconds.

“Is this about–?”

Betty Grof

There’s a reality where we got the crown (we get it in most of them, one way or another), but it wasn’t you who put it on. Simon took it out and came up behind me and popped it on my head. I remember hearing him say boop and start to laugh, and then the universe exploded around me. This, in my current state, says very little. It’s difficult for me to conceptualize what it would have felt like for my mortal brain, but I think that it was agony. It was, to my best approximation, something like having your skull split open, and then unceremoniously pouring the steaming hot knowledge of the cosmos inside.

Which is to say it was probably about as overwhelming for Simon as it was for me.

But when Simon put on the crown, in that first reality we endured together (for him. There is no first for me, nor a last, they are all as one, but it was the first reality my mortal flesh experiences, and so it is easier to describe it as the first) he only lost me. He thought, at the time, that the madness drove me away, and it took him a thousand years to learn the reality of the situation.

Perhaps it is a mercy, then, that in the reality where I don the crown first, I know immediately what happened to my Simon. The crown slips off my head, and I find him, body entombed in ice, save his head, which lolls lifeless and heavy to one side.

There’s more that happens after that, but I don’t stay long.

Simon Petrikov

Eventually, you’re able to convince Marceline that you’re quite alright, but maybe you could stand to eat soon. The two of you cut class, which makes you momentarily feel like a bit of a wild child. The University has a hall of student-run food outlets, and they vary from quite bad to decent. You are partial to the Greek-themed shop, because the chicken isn’t dry and you’ve always been a fan of tzatziki. You often keep a big tub of it in your fridge, when you aren’t living on campus.

You eat with Marceline, and she tells you that she and Bonnie are doing well, that she thinks Bonnie will graduate at the end of next semester but she’s probably going to take another year. She doesn’t mention what either of them are studying. You think that you should remember that. Why don’t you remember that? 

She asks you if you have any plans for tonight, and you tell her you have a date. Something tells you that you shouldn’t mention who it’s with, and she doesn’t pry, but she does give you a look that feels very sad, and you don’t like how it makes you feel.

Betty Grof

Simon always planned what we were going to do. While he did that, I managed time. Those sorts of things tended to get away from him. He’d get all wrapped up in research, in exploring every last inch of our ventures, and suddenly, he’d look up and it’d be night already. I always knew exactly what time it was. I learned to read the stars and the trajectory of the sun when I was young, and I’d always found comfort in the notion that no matter where I was in the world, I’d know when I was.

Now, time bends strangely around me, and there is equally no future to plan nor past to recall. Everything is happening, has happened, and will never happen. It is not something that my mortal mind was born to conceive of, though I suppose I’m well past that now.

I know all our realities, Simon. I know each of our beginnings and our ends. There are worlds where we die with our hands clasped together in the face of nuclear destruction. There are worlds where you go on without me, and others where I go on without you. There are realities where we linger together for decades, until the inevitability of death pulls us slowly and together into her arms. I spend more time than I should ruminating on these realities.

Simon Petrikov

Sometime after lunch, you end up back in your dorm room. You think you like it here, more so than you’ve liked a lot of your apartments. For one thing, you have easy access to a good library, though the University’s fiction section, as is often the case, leaves something to be desired. You have room for an armchair and a nice standing lamp. You often fall asleep in that chair, and your back does not thank you for it.

There will be none of that tonight, though, because again, you have a date.

You already look good— you always look good— but you like to dress up. Betty usually dresses comfortably, though she’ll put on her best if the situation calls for it, but a regular Friday evening date does not. She’ll be here in a sweater and slacks, and you’ll think she’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. You know, at this point, very little about the universe. You think you know quite a bit, but you’re mistaken. It’s better that way. Our mortal brains aren’t designed to comprehend such concepts. I would know.

Regardless of how good you currently look (very), you strip out of your blazer and button-down. Your tie is a clip-on, which you wouldn’t be caught dead with on a date. Betty doesn’t understand why it matters if they basically look the same, and doesn’t seem to get it no matter how many times you emphasize that it’s the principle of the matter. But that’s fine; you’re dressing up for you, and a little bit for Betty, but mostly for you.

In the end, you aren’t ready until two minutes before your date’s supposed to start. You’ve put on another nearly identical button-down which you insist is your nice one, as well as some nice black slacks and a matching suit jacket. Your tie is properly tied and not clipped on, like some sort of amateur. You fiddle with it in the mirror until you hear a knock on the door, right on time.

You glance away, and out of the corner of your eye, you once again see a flash of blue, but it’s gone when you whip your head back around. You inhale deeply, and exhale slowly through your nose.

I knock again.

You answer.

???

We’re in your dorm room. You’re looking at me, in that lovelorn way you always wore on date nights. It’s like warmth found a home in your eyes, like I can see the burning of your heart through them. You invite me inside and tell me you’ve put the kettle on for tea. You got the English breakfast tea I like.

We’re holding hands under the stars. The dewy grass seeps through clothing that’s too thin for the midnight chill as we sleep under the cold and unforgiving night sky. We’ll survive, but our aging bodies won’t thank us, and when we develop colds a week from now, we know who to blame.

We’re old together. Wrinkles tug at your face in a way I think is terribly handsome, but which you often fuss over. Day by day, simple things grow harder, and when your eyesight starts to go, you cup my face in your hands and whisper, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see your beautiful face.” I reassure you that you have lived without the sight before and will again, but this doesn’t soothe you. I wish it would.

We’re a thousand years beyond a time we should have ever been allowed to live, and I’m sacrificing my mind to restore yours. I never have a single doubt that you would do the same.

I know now that this is true, I’ve seen it come to fruition, in another life.

The bomb goes off while we lay, hand in hand.

You die cradled in my arms.

We’re in the dorm again, and you’re looking at me with an expression I cannot comprehend. I’ve known you for countless lifetimes, and yet there are still times where you perplex me.

“I don’t know where you end,” I say, and without missing a beat, you return, “I don’t know where I begin.”

Our realities, everything we are, is a web of entanglement from which neither of us can escape, no matter how powerful we become. My end is your beginning, my beginning your end, and everything in between those times, folding in upon each other in an incomprehensible cacophony of misery. I know all, and yet, at times even I struggle to understand it.

You are there, and then you are not.

I can always reach you, in a way, if I so choose. But we will never be as we once were. I know too much now.

Were I capable, I would weep for the loss.

[gomzwrites]

✧✿✧˖° Chocolate °˖✧✿✧

Hello heLLOO! *waves excitedly over a round table* come come I have tea and dessert for everyone *pulls out a few chairs*

Alright, so. Some of my thoughts first regarding the Academic AU

I wrote this fic longer than intended because I was going heavy with the details and plot

Though I am wondering if this kind of smut is welcome here, because I've let a few of my friends to read it and gotten mix responses, some said it was lengthy while some said they liked it

Personally, I was trying to walk readers through the entire process, and since its the first encounter/$ex scene, I wanted to show the small details to indicate some stuff

Initially I was going to write like virgin reader for the innocent sake. but that will make my fic longer WHEEZE-

I ended up hinting the "innocent" part with the floral pattern on the brief, well I say hint but idk if that was obvious lmfao anyways-

not to say I dont like longer fics, but the longer I write, the more mistakes im gonna encounter (if you can't tell already, i struggle a lot with grammar lol)

In the end after much consideration, ive cut down heavily on the smut and condensed to what we have now and Im okay with it, tho I would like to hear your thoughts (send me anonymously if you're shy, or just comment, I dont bite I promise :D)

Okay, *pours everyone a cup of tea*, some headcannons and notes

So, as you all can tell, there was a hint of mlm there of Price x Simon, not sure how everyone think about it but I for one eat that shit up

Now, I did gave some thoughts about the subjects Price and Simon teach, in the end though I decided to leave it blank because I couldn't be sure

See im from Asia so the education system here is extremely different from the UK/US, and I got kinda confused and overwhelmed with the choices XD so I just left it blank

I was going to write them with STEM majors, but eeerrr Idk, cant really picture Price or Simon as engineer or medicine lecturers(iykyk)(rise up my STEM sisters and brothers-)

Perhaps you can give me some thoughts about it, I was thinking something about History for Price, then something about Linguistic/Statistic/Psychology for Simon

Okay, Gaz also made an appearance on the fic((of course he did, my precious bb)), now for him I have a solid idea to make him Pharmacology based or at least somewhere along the healthcare sector, hence the Dr

I might, also bring Soap in the future, but I dont know how or what his role will be yet (gym tutor? physical therapist?)

Will I make this into a poly thing? Im not sure, probably not XD but I might do a special moment with Gaz bcuz im that bias

oh yeah, forgot add on, but yes there's a reason for the name changes(Mr Riley to Simon) and name that stayed (Prof Price), its just to further show that Price has the power and all the sayings (you know cuz he is the Captain originally so I wanted to bring that over)

You wanna call him John? mmmm that's gonna take some convincing and time >:)

Lastly, some future plans (no promises) - nsfw here

many h0rny, many ideas, many tired

anyways, Im thinking of xreader individually fic(like Price x you then Simon x you separately), then eventually building it up to both of them destroying you in threesome manner (lovingly)

I want. I want to write Price being mEAN YALL-

Like him bullying you and putting a vibrat0r inside you and force you to come out to write something on the board in front of everyone, dialing up the intensity as you try your hardest not to cum right there

or or or or or

thinking about c0ckwarming under his desk- raaasdajdgajdh

then Simon...oh sweet sweet Simon

Im thinking maybe dom!reader, just a maybe.

Riding him until he's a whimpering sobbing mess

Idk if anyone remembered, but u know this part?

:)

yeah, maaaaaybe Simon has that exhibitionism kink

so lets abuse that shall we

thinking of doing it in the car park/in his car, you giving him head under the steering wheel as he pulls down the car window slightly to talk to a student who just wanted to chat

Poor him trying to be calm and steady his tone as his knuckles turned white, hands clammy as you suck harder, not giving a damn if you're going to draw attention

or or or or or or or

going back to the riding part, tying him up with his tie, not letting him touch you as you ride that dick like your life depends on it, you hear him begging and whimpering, bucking his hips up desperately

im very unwell

ANYWAYS, ye so far, these are the only ideas I have atm, but don't expect me to write it so soon haha

If im gonna be honest, this blog was created when I had a massive art block, and then somehow (even until today!!) my soft fics blew up and ye it escalated from there

not really but also- If you see me write a fic, its usually bcuz im struggling with art, likewise if you followed me on @gomzdraws or twitter, you would notice im more active cause I think for me, drawing is easier than writing

im grateful to be able to express in two mediums tho, even tho I suck at it haha

but I do sincerely want to make this into a series, so I thank everyone for being patience with me, I appreciate it

Ogeh, *brings out a briefcase* recommendation time

if you like Prof AUs, then boi do I have some fics for you here in tumblr

Guyfierii has a long Prof series and they're wonderful

mehh141's amAZING PROF PRICE ART IM CRYING-

Shroomie (one of the first few blog I was exposed to when I started reading cod fics :D) made 2 Prof fics as well - sadly I dont think they're active since April because of uni :(

ajhdkadh sleepyconfusedpotato, the god of both being a great artist and oc!fic writer made a post a while ago about tf141 possible Professor headcannons - give it a look if ya interested

that is all from me, and btw don't feel obligated to comment or send me a text or anything!! The fact that you made it till the end is already making me happy :D thanks for reading my babbling and points LMAO

Have a nice day/night friends :)

[wisteriasymphony]

Withholding (Chapter Highlight #3)

»»———————————————————————————————««

Philosophy was probably one of the worst classes to have in the early morning, other than perhaps calculus or engineering (which, luckily, Adrien could stay far away from due to taking the Literary track), but it was at least comforting in a roundabout sort of way that it wasn’t his first class of the day for every day of the week. He couldn’t always wake himself up by listening to audiobooks during his pottery class or sketch idly in Linguistics and Etymology (already having a few languages under his belt, Latin included, meant the class was a breeze despite all of the flashcards and busywork), so he just had to accept that waking up to discussions of Voltaire occasionally was the best case scenario for him.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to be famous enough to only need one name?” Nino whispered to him, likely unaware of how remarkably off-topic the question was. “Like, man, imagine if people could just refer to me as ‘Nino’ rather than just ‘Nino Lahiffe’, and people would know what they meant. That’d be crazy, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Adrien added. It was stupid to encourage Nino into one of his tangents, especially considering the two of them sat in the very front of the class, but at the very least, Nino was going to be hell of a lot more entertaining than talking about Voltaire yet again . “I’d probably have a better chance at that than you, though.”

“For now,” Nino said, resting his elbow on his side of the table as if to stand his ground. “Celebrity life is gonna catch up to you one day, man. Me, on the other hand, I’m going to be the best DJ in the world. And rap, too—About computer science shit. I’m covering all my bases.”

“Right, as if referencing computer science in your music is going to be as marketable as referencing pop culture.”

“We’ll see. Nobody’s tried it yet, so none of us know for sure.”

Dr. Rahmati approached them as he was pacing around the front of the classroom. Always sharply dressed and well-manicured, Dr. Bizhan Rahmati was the kind of teacher most girls couldn’t help but crush on. Philosophy was required for the terminal year anyways, but even if it wasn’t, there would still be people fighting over getting a seat in one of Rahmati’s classes. While his charm made him engaging to listen to when he lectured, though, he still had a sense of stringency to him.

“Monsieur Lahiffe, I believe I’ve mentioned to you before that I’d prefer you don’t bring in any sugary drinks to my classroom,” Dr. Rahmati chided, hands crossed behind his back. “Especially cans as they cannot be resealed after opening.”

“No need to worry, Rahmati, it’s actually water,” Nino said, grabbing the can and tilting it ever so slightly to display its contents without spilling it. In all fairness, it wasn’t actually water—the drink just happened to be clear—but Nino always had that sort of carefree, comedic way of talking that you could never tell what was a lie and what wasn’t, nor could you really get mad even if it was. Nino was just lucky Dr. Rahmati didn’t try to bend down to inspect it closer, or he would’ve got the sugary grape-lemonade scent of the energy drink that water definitely did not have.  Rahmati simply raised an eyebrow at Nino, and so he added, “I refilled it after I finished it the other day. I’m a big fan of recycling, you know.”

Unimpressed, but aware he wasn’t going to get anywhere by pushing back, Dr. Rahmati simply continued to pace, letting the more productive students continue their discussion while Adrien and Nino just tried to suppress their giggles. There was absolutely no way Dr. Rahmati was going to let them sit next to each other for much longer, but Adrien had to admit that he was enjoying himself while waiting for the inevitable. 

The PA system began to chime, before the gruff voice of Mssr. Damocles began his announcement. “Attention staff and students, there has been a reported Akumatization near school grounds. While this is not a drill, I advise that staff direct their students to the assigned safe areas while we commence a lockdown.”

[engbergsinfinland]

Late post for Tuesday, on Wednesday!

Hello, everyone. Here's an update of what we've been up to the last several days!

I wanted to share that, just like in Albuquerque, Eric walks Alex at about 11:30 p.m., because he and I are irresponsible night owls. But, perhaps he'll catch some aurora activity on one of his nightly walks! That is a goal of mine, while we're here. Anyway, In Albuquerque, I'm always anxious to hear whether Eric encountered any animals or saw any weird people parked in Sandia Heights looking at city lights when he's on his late-night walks. Here, our conversations upon his return from the nightly walks are somewhat similar but have very different possible sights to be seen, obviously, because we are in a city center -- and so every night Eric walks Alex pass lots of bars where there are lots of drunken people and hustling university students (often in their university overalls). Finns are known for being rather taciturn, but I've read that once they've got a few drinks in them, they're much more boisterous, and Eric's accounts seem to corroborate this.

On these nightly walks, Eric has encountered people who really love Alex and want to pet him, talk to him in Finnish, tell Eric about their dogs, and a lot more. Alex, however, is not a fan of people smoking cigarettes and seems to "woof" at them with some frequency. Sometimes he can't decide whether he wants them to pet him or whether he's disturbed by the fact that they are smoking.

OK, so, two nights ago, outside the McDonald's (which Eric reports is busy at all hours and is two stories tall), these two people, older than us, started talking to Eric in Finnish and Eric had to explain that he only speaks English and the guy said, "wow, you should know me, I'm famous in America from Top Chef." This guy, Stefan Richter, and his girlfriend or wife (it was unclear, even based on her saying they've been married two years and then he said they hadn't -- very confusing), were very (drunk and) chatty with Eric and basically gave him a brief professional overview for the chef guy and to Eric's remark that he had not been to his restaurant, Stefan's Steakhouse, Stefan replied. "So, what are you, vegan?" They definitely liked Alex, though.

In other news, I went to a design event, DesignOnTamepre, at Tullikamarilla (just east of our flat) on Sunday after we had the kids' classmates and their parents over for brunch (parents Mika and Elina and kids Joaquim and Hertta). The brunch was super fun and we had so much to talk about and learn from them and them from us. It was great. Anyway, the design event very cool and featured lots of Finnish designers: clothing designers, jewelry designers, textile designers. It was definitely an event that was right up my alley. Here is one of the brands, Nouki, and I am definitely going to look into becoming an owner of one or two items from their amazingly cool array! Nouki designers design the textile prints and have them produced right here in Finland!

Currently, Finland -- our area of it, at least-- is in the midst of a heat wave. It was about 77 degrees here today and this weather should hold for a few more days. Then, Fall has got to arrive, I'd imagine.

On Tuesday, I went to a department sub-unit meeting at the university, for the English language sub-unit. That was really interesting! I was really confused about some of their practices; there is a national entrance exam, I gather, for MA admissions and Tampere University's acceptance rate is very low. This exam is changing based on some country-wide modifications, so that was a topic on the table. Also, the department is hiring a linguist, after I gather a failed search last year. Finally, a few upcoming department parties were discussed -- one of my favorite topics!

I did a bit of sewing this week, making Cece a shirt from fabric we bought at the totally overwhelming but totally amazing fabric store I mentioned a few weeks back. She was very excited to wear it for her school pictures on Tuesday. Rowan's school pictures were on Monday. And the school picture-taking company offers an option to have a "friend photo" or a "sibling photo," so we signed up for that -- and we'll see how all of the photos come out, when we get access to them!

Eric started Finnish classes this week at the Red Cross! But, he missed Tuesday's class because he'd forgotten his key after heading out on a bike ride and I was in the department meeting when he realized that, and I could not get the call or get him the key. So, he made it to one class early in the week and he's got one more this week, on Friday. Finnish is such a difficult language, but we're all trying to learn a bit.

In big news: Rowan's birthday is on Monday! We have lots of pre-birthday activities planned for the weekend and our friend Alia is coming from the US, after having secured a screaming price on a flight on Turkish Airways, through Istanbul! We are all excited for a friend to visit and, I must confess, I asked her to bring several US items that I have discovered I absolutely need ;)

[arlequinelunaire]

Danganronpa Showa: Prologue Part 6

<Prev <<First AO3

The next student was at least fully human, well, as far as I could tell anyway. They were wrapped all over in bandages, had an eyepatch, a pointed helmet with deer antlers on it, carried a butterfly-shaped baton with the words for 'fire, forest, wind, mountain' written on it, carried a 'sword' shaped like a lightning-bolt, had on a sky-blue coat brighter than Simeon's or Manami's, and had on grey hakama.

They bowed before me, then intoned, "They call me the Ultimate Historical Re-enactor. I am Seki Yoritsune."

From his name I took it they were male, but I couldn't quite say either way. "I am whichever gender my role doth require," they then said to me, "I... guess thou couldst compare it to Kabuki or Takarazuka".

The last student was neither part-animal nor covered like a mummy, instead he had fogged-over glasses, messy hair beneath a striped top-hat with several pens, quills, and pencils stashed in its band, a tweed suit decorated with runestones and a tie marked with hieroglyphs, mounds of notes stuffed in his pockets, and unusually pointy ears. Any promise left of normalcy ended once he opened his mouth.  "Hello, salut, ciao, nihao, shalom, aloha, privet, namaste, and salve! I am the Wizard of Words, the Lord of Linguistics, the Titan of Translation, and Sultan of Speech! B-But you can just call me Iwai Kanji, the Ultimate Conlanger".

"'Conlanger'? I'm sorry, I don't think I've heard the term before," I told him.

Adjusting his glasses, he said, "As a Conlanger- well personally I prefer Conlanguer but Conlanger is the more accepted term, I create languages. Hard work you are aware, for not only does it require a thorough knowledge of several languages' worth of vocabulary and grammar to master, but also an imagination to make said new tongue more than just the sum of its parts. So naturally, I have already created several, multiple, a cascade of constructed languages, and I haven't even graduated".

Rude as it was to think it of him, but was he always this long-winded? "Oh my, that's quite something. Actually, sounds like that'd be great for encryption, secret messages and all," I remarked, only to accidentally shatter his pleasant demeanor.

"Typical for an armed forces aviator, can you think of naught else but warfare, combat, conflict?!" he hissed out, but then took a deep breath and said, "My apologies, I did not mean to get off on the wrong foot, it's just... yes, during the war, cryptography and deception was all people wanted my talents for".

I could see what he meant. I sighed out and said, "Yeah, I mean I first got interested in flight as a kid, without a thought of killing anyone". I had no idea how ironically tragic those words would come to be.

All sixteen of us students entering the gym at last, we were promptly caught off-guard by no less than fireworks being detonated inside. Manami, Dejan, and myself even dropped to the floor, as all I could think about were battlefield explosions.

"What lily-livered display is this?! Stand to attention, son, don't you know you're in a Killing Game now, huh?!" came a shouting, heavily accented voice that didn't belong to any of my classmates. I slowly picked myself up to see... that same animatronic eagle who'd been on the monitor was now descending from the ceiling to the teacher's podium. Perching and ruffling his feathers up, he then barked out (much as an eagle could), "Is this the best you <Japanese> have to offer? Well I've got news for ya, Class 39 of Pope's Beak or whatever, this ain't your grandpappy's Land of the Rising Sun. You're now in the greatest country on Earth, these-" he suddenly stared off into the distance and grew teary-eyed, "United States of America, and by God as my witness, you will act like it else I lay the smacketh down, ya hear?!"

"Ahem, pardon me... sir, but I believe you'll find this is Japan," Toranosuke spoke up, "Unless we've been moved somewhere, but this has certainly looked like Hope's Peak so far".

"Oh you haven't gone anywhere, son," the eagle said, unfolding a map with Japan coloured like the US flag, "We whupped your spineless asses, so this country is now under United States Occupation. You're playing by our rules boy, and because the Greatest Country on Earth singlehandedly beat you in the war, now you better prepare yourselves for the punishment. Do-I-make-myself-clear?!"

Next>

[minetteskvareninova]

Listen, as a history student, let me tell you - if you're trying to figure out whether your ancestors were Czech, Slovak, German (not Austrian German, more likely Hungarian German, a.k.a. Germans living in some parts of Kingdom of Hungary, like Spiš or Transsylvania) or Hungarian, DNA tests are going to be mostly useless anyway, because genetics-wise we are all basically the same. In these parts, the relationship between one's ancestry and nationality is actually surprisingly loose; like, Lajos Kossuth, Hungarian revolutionary who was also infamously also something of a Hungarian chauvinist, came from a partially hungarized noble family of Slovak origin, and also his mother was Hungarian German. First census in Czechoslovakia actually showed much more people identified as Slovaks and much less as Hungarians than during the last Austro-Hungarian census, simply because Slovak national movement used to be discriminated against and declaring yourself to be Slovak was inconvenient for many people before the rise of Czechoslovakia. Especially in the southern Slovakia the ethnic identities could get pretty fuzzy - after all, most people there were bilingual, and people of different ethnicities intermarried pretty regularly.

That said, back to your original question - no, Czechoslovak isn't really an ethnicity, like some people historically identified as Czechoslovak for political reasons, because our nations were such good friends and our languages were so similar, wouldn't it be nice if we were one and the same...? But that wasn't really possible, like our languages and cultures just diverged way too much over time. Czech and Slovak national movements were close politically and emotionally, but they also had many scuffles and differences, and most Slovaks absolutely did not believe themselves to be THE SAME as Czechs. There is some linguistic grey area on our borders where Slovak dialects from Záhorie are pretty close to Czech and Czech dialects from Morava pretty close to Slovak, but that's FAR from the "official" versions of our languages that most people use.

TL;DR unless you know more about your grandfather as a person (like if you found some of his writings or whether he belonged to some specific community with a majority of a certain ethnic group) I don't think that's something you'd be able to find out.

Dumb question, is Czechoslovakian an ethnicity? I found out that’s what my biological grandfather was, but that country didn’t exist until 1918, after gaining independence from Austria-Hungary. So was he a Czech, Slovak, Austrian or Hungarian? Or all the above?

[absolutebl]

10 Favorite Moments of Snark in BL

This one came is as an ask from the lovely @solitaryandwandering and there are tons of options so I just picked some of mine and labeled them top 10. I reserve the right to change my mind if a remember better.  

Quite a few of these came from truly terrible BLs, I wonder if that has to do with me remembering them. Like they stood out as moments of delightful charm in a sea of sewage? 

1. Just talk!

Ae getting annoyed with TinCan in A Chance At Love. 

Of course it’s MAME first, but the idea of her using one of her most popular characters (whom she fucked over) to criticize miscommunication as a narrative driver (which is her fucking calling card) was just the ironic poop version of a chef’s kiss. (Sorry, I don’t know how else to put it.) 

2. Saucing out of jealousy 

Let’s just get MAME out of the way, shall we? Type (in TharnType) is an absolute banger at the pithy quip in a very agro way and I love a lot of his lines. I mean calling your lover “crybaby” when you finally tell him you love him? Epic snark. Also the “you can finally stop complaining about us” to Techno is so good. 

But my personal favorite, hands sown, is the throwing a sauce bottle. Talk about product placement. (Although said senior’s snarky, “It’s fun to see a big baby agitated” about Type, was also pretty darn great.) 

3. I’m so gay 

In Rainbow Prince, the fact that Art’s focused pursuit is patently obvious and his subordinates are still careful about it was just really funny to me. It reminded me of my youth when friends got surprised when I came out. Don’t get me wrong, my coming out was perfectly serviceable at the time, but also the ones who were surprised I was like... 

4. Ate the phonebook

Bright in SOTUS (played by Off) is a wonderfully snarky character. I love the way he is self deprecating about being a bad student, even in front of his juniors, and the time he leads them in prayer? So funny. 

But my favorite is his one shot “Did he eat the national register” when Kong is showing off his memory for names in one of the hazing sequences. 

Shout out to the one I do have a screen cap of, this from SOTUS S: 

Like serious moment of scripted brilliance. 

Ah me, back in the days when most Thai BLs had really good scripts.... 

5. Goodnight, you fucker

Kao’s fandi-way in the Kiss series. 

This is a linguistic one. It’s just I already had grocked the notion of fandi na as being a cute thing couples use with each other (kind of like “sweet dreams, please?”) to see Kao make this super rude when Pete is begging him for it, is so much THEM, their dynamic, it’s particularly snarky and on character. 

Also, you know me, i had to pick a linguistic one. 

6. Rome getting his own back

Rome in Puppy Honey is such a sweet soft character but also so much owning his own identity, and so steady about it. It was just really fun to see him get one up on Pick. 

Even if they both know it’s actually a compliment. 

Also should out to Porsche’s moment of quip, “I enjoy this scene a little too much” when he catches his bestie rolling around in paint with cute boy. 

7. Invitation? 

Tian actually has quite a few moments of snark in Tale of a Thousand Stars. (”You know how to sweet talk now?’). But honestly this is a phrase I use constantly IRL so I was just happy to see it show up in a Thai BL. 

8. Just alpha bitch bitching it up 

Look is this level of confrontation actually considered snark? I don’t know but Miriam’s defense of Chon in Tonhon Chonlatee is epic. Top level. It’s a real pleasure to watch a female bestie take out an evil femme fatale machine-gun style.

Yes there are others, the bffs (best female friends) in Together With Me and Dark Blue Kiss spring to mind. 

9. Calling out the industry moments 

There are quite a few of these, and a BL that is already bad and full of tropes has to be careful because they are reviewing themselves badly. And yet they do it anyway. This example comes from one of this year’s worst, My Secret Love: 

Our Days has 

“Can I love you, my tsundere” 

“This year so many Y series came out”

“I think the script writers are at fault” 

“Your acting skills suck”

all of which come off as more rich and inappropriate than snark in such a terrible show. 

It’s not always bad show tho.

Cherry Blossoms After Winter scene card calling out the “only one bed” trope. 

And in on of the Taiwanese BLs there is a moment where a side character tells on of the leads that “tsundere is so out of fashion” but I can’t remember which show. 

10. Seme subscription service 

Best of the best (IMHO) comes from Korea, who generally specializes in earnest, not snark. But... 

Semantic Error is one of my favorite BL’s because the two leads are nearly entirely comprised of snark. SangWoo’s “if my heart wasn’t beating I’d be dead” was perfection, since it also takes a common trope to account.  

And when JaeYoung is grouchy and says "No lettuce, eat perilla leaves instead” I bark laughed. Also the “oops my hand slipped” after he shot that dart at the drunk asshole in the pub. Both of these also involve physical comedy moments, so they aren’t strictly just snark they're visual gags but still? *kiss kiss kiss* 

But I had to pick seme subscription service as my favorite moment of snark from this series. Because it is both of them, snipping back and forth. 

And that’s it. That’s my top 10. 

Other good ones?

KinnPorsche Pete has a few the time at the table with the minor family and the time in chains when he’s reading a book.

Most of Team’s responses to Win in Until We Meet Again. from “You’re so picky” to “Don’t even think about it.” 

Half of what Pond says in Love By Chance. 

All of what Pure says in My Gear and Your Gown. 

I don’t love Theory of Love but Third’s internal dialogue (when he’s not whining and pining) and his occasionally take downs are pretty darn great.

Adachi’s internal reactions to Kurosawa’s thoughts in Cherry Magic, especially after they are dating. “Everything is so mushy.” 

Akoi’s internal dialogue and self criticism snark in My Love Mix Up. 

TangYi’s “too soft” in H3: Trapped. 

Noh’s “Fine, yes” at the end of Love Sick. Not a snarky character in general, just a wise and sweet one, but at the end, yes, snark. 

NamGoong in Light On Me, the sweetest side character of snark. 

Pretty much all of Mob’s thoughts and dialogue in Absolute BL. 

This post dated mid 2022, not responsible for snark that came after. 

(source) 

[luxaryllis]

Hey! I saw your hetalia and twisted wonderland fanfic and I really liked it! I was wondering if you you maybe do something similar but with Mc as any country of your choosing since I can't really decide? If you don't want to that's fine. Thanks!

Hetalia!N.Italy!Reader with TWST Dorm Leaders

Note: Hello! Awww, thank you so much!! But anon, DO YOU WANT MY BRAIN TO COMBUST?! Once I read the request, I was like, "OMG Who should I do-" I was even going to use the Wheel of Names for it 😭😭. I asked a very very close friend of mine (you know who you are 👀) on who I should do, they said, "DO ITALY!! THAT GUY HAS A LOT OF PERSONALITY!" And other stuff. So I hope you don't mind if I do North Italy/Veneziano/Feliciano for this! Again, please note that this was not meant or intended to offend anyone. And that all mentions of 'Italy' refer to Aph Italy/Feliciano, unless said otherwise, the same with other countries mentioned. Please tell me if you found anything here offensive and I will try to revise it. Also, I will say it again, this was written with a platonic relationship in mind, as it didn't specify whether you wanted it to be romantic or platonic.

You have no idea how much I LOVE the Hetalia!MC with TWST!! But, please. I love the dorm leaders, but feel free to request other people too hahaha 🤣

Anyway, let's get to it!!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle Rosehearts:

🥀 Man, Riddle just can't get a break, huh?

🥀 The magicless student seems so... cowardly...

🥀 They were also really loud... and kept waving a white flag.

🥀 AND HOW THE HECK DO THEY SEE WHEN THEIR EYES ARE CLOSED?!?!?!?

🥀 Also, they're very obnoxious!

🥀 Do they not know that the welcoming ceremony is supposed to be a solemn ceremony?! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!

🥀 Anyway, Riddle does NOT like this MC.

🥀 HOW AND WHY DID THE DARK MIRROR CHOOSE THIS... THIS BUFFOON?!?!

🥀 As Riddle left the Mirror Chamber, he was beyond annoyed.

🥀 At least that student will be let out of NRC because they're magicless, right?

🥀 Right??

🥀 And when he realizes that the student was let in as a student (after the Dwarf Min incident), with the cat-racoon-tanuki monster?

🥀 And some of his first years have become involved with them?

🥀 Dear Sevens, why him? What has he done? What rule has he broken that he will be punished like this?

🥀 Poor guy.

🥀 One day, Professor Trein asks Riddle to call MC, to ask them about something.

🥀 So Riddle goes to Ramshackle and hears singing.

🥀 He looks to check it out, and finds MC singing a little song while cleaning Ramshackle.

🥀 He thinks that MC seems pretty talented in singing, plus they seem experienced in cleaning.

🥀 So he approaches MC and tells them that Professor Trein wants to talk to them.

🥀 If you're curious on why Trein wanted to talk to them, it was because he wanted to give MC an opportunity to join a competetive program on Animal Languages/Linguistics; because I just see APH!North Italy to be a great animal languages speaker.

🥀 Anyway, afterwards he doesn't really think of MC that much.

🥀 He is quite curious about that song they're songing (it's the 'Draw a Circle and That's the World' or the Marukaite Chikyuu song, this or this).

🥀 So, when he sees the Ramshackle prefect during the Unbirthday party, he doesn't know what to expect.

🥀 He can only hope it won't be bad...

🥀 Yeah... it went bad.

🥀 When Riddle got mad because ofthe Marron Tart/Mont Blanc, and ADeuce + Grim also got angry, MC was just there scared and waving a white flag-

🥀 Now, I have a headcanon that APH Italy is actually pretty good at fighting, I mean, did you hear what Turkey said about Italy as kid? I forgot what episode/season it was, but GerIta was visiting Turkey. Plus, Italy is a country personification, he's lived for CENTURIES.

🥀 But anyway, let's say that MC surprisingly put up a bit of a fight, but was not much of a match compared to Trey and Cater when they had to kick them out of Heartslabyul.

🥀 Riddle was surprised; he expected the cowardly student to be taken down pretty easily, but he seems pretty strong for a magicless person...

🥀 Anyway, when Riddle overblotted, MC was waving their white flag again 🏳

🥀 But MC does do a few hits on Overblot!Riddle when MC sees that their friends (Grim, Ace, Deuce) are getting hurt.

🥀 After Riddle's Overblot has been defeated, MC is crying VERY HARD.

🥀 MC does comfort Riddle by making him some homemade pasta and pizza.

🥀 Riddle LOVES MC's pizza and pasta. He thinks that MC's food is very delicious.

🥀 As they become friends, MC teaches Riddle a lot of things.

🥀 Like singing, dancing, painting, basically the arts.

🥀 MC also teaches Riddle how to be more relaxed, especially with all the rules.

🥀 Riddle also tries to teach MC about how to defend themselves better, and not to be so cowardly.

🥀 Riddle reminds MC of Germany 😭😭

🥀 Whether you want that to be romantic, platonic, fluffy or angsty is up to you-

🥀 No, but Riddle is like the Germany to MC's Italy

🥀 It's so cute-

🥀 When Riddle finds out about MC's past (with HRE, Grandpa Rome, etc), Riddle is VERY concerned 😟.

🥀 To the point that Riddle has a very big suspicion that MC's attitude is due to all the trauma they've gone through.

🥀 Yeah...

🥀 Oh! And MC helps prepare food for Heartslabyul tea parties and are always invited to them.

🥀 But ANYWAY! Riddle and MC's friendship is just very wholesome and sweet ❤

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar:

🦁 This stupid herbivore is so loud... and annoying... and cowardly...

🦁 Can't this herbivore just shut up...

🦁 Yeah.. Leona also doesn't have a great first impression of MC.

🦁 Also, where the heck did the herbivore get the white flag from-

🦁 Anyway, when he meets MC again in the Botanical Garden, he's even more annoyed, but intrigued by MC.

🦁 He realizes that MC seems a bit.. weird...

🦁 Maybe it's the fact that they can actually know what their surroundings look like, even though their eyes are closed??

🦁 Like, how do they do that? Can you teach me?

🦁 Leona also has this hunch that MC is more than the cowardly person they seem...

🦁 So he watches out for anything that may be suspicious or something of them.

🦁 He's also a bit on guard more when MC is nearby.

🦁 He doesn't know why, but it's just something about them that sets them apart from the other herbivores...

🦁 When MC and some of the Heartslabyul gang visit Savanaclaw, Leona also challenges them to Magift to hopefully find out what MC is hiding.

🦁 MC did... pretty normal? I mean, obviously, they don't have magic Leona 🤦‍♂️

🦁 Anyway, MC slips out that they have this kind of thing back in their world, except without the magic.

🦁 And now Leona's even more intrigued.

🦁 Yeah...

🦁 When he sees MC in Savanclaw (this is right before his overblot)

🦁 He notices that MC is wearing something that looks like something one would wear in the military.

🦁 This further solidifies his hunch that MC isn’t who they seem to be.

🦁 Anyway, same thing happens with Riddle’s overblot

🦁 Except MC is a bit more experienced in fighting this.

🦁 Again, I headcanon that APH Italy is experienced and great at fighting, so I’m incorporating this in everyone else’s parts.

🦁 Anyway, after all the events, timeskip/fast forward to when they are at the infirmary already.

🦁 MC talks to Leona about being king, etc.

🦁 It was the first time Leona has seen MC the most serious (not exactly very serious, but not as comedic as usual).

🦁 MC can’t exactly comfort Leona, but does talk about how there are other ways he can be useful or how he can help his kingdom, that are much better than being king.

🦁 Italy has had a few monarchs before, I believe. So he would have a bit of experience with those.

🦁 So, Leona does learn to... not exactly respect, but a bit similar-

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto:

🐙 He heard of MC's talent in cooking and cleaning (Italy being a malewife-)

🐙 Anyway, he also thought that MC would bw an easy target.

🐙 They were.

🐙 At least, they WOULD have been.

🐙 If it weren't for a certain Heartslabyul Vice Dorm Leader and Dorm Leader keeping them away from him...

🐙 Like, I only wanna have a chat, promise!

🐙 No, he really just wanted to capitalize on MC's great cooking and cleaning skills-

🐙 Ahem! Anyway!

🐙 When he finally DOES get MC to get into a contract with them, he's practically celebrating in his head.

🐙 While MC is staring at the contract and is all, 'Would Germany want me to do this??'

🐙 Oh! And 'Mmm... pasta~'

🐙 But MC does end up signing the contract because Azul (and the Tweels) pressured them into doing so.

🐙 Now, while MC and the ithers are trying to get the picture, Azul is already counting the amount of money they'd have if MC would work for Monstro Lounge.

🐙 Shady Octoboi from the mafia

🐙 Anyway, he was absolutely SURPRISED that MC figured out a plan to go against him.

🐙 Did MC even do that?

🐙 MC probably heard of something similar that Japan or Germany or even Romano said, and thought of that.

🐙 ...Well sort of! Leona fixed all the rough edges, though, don't worry!

🐙 Anyway to after the overblot sequence, MC does end up volunteering to help out in Monstro Lounge.

🐙 MC makes their very own pasta and pizza.

🐙 The customers LOVED it.

🐙 Azul decided to make it some sort of special event where at the end of the week, MC would help in Monstro Lounge and prepare their special food.

🐙 Why he made it a special event? So the customers wouldn't get tired of it and would want more every time!!

🐙 MONEY!! 🤑💰💸

🐙 He pays MC, don't worry.

🐙 Anyway, MC also helps Azul try to accept his true form.

🐙 MC would also make a painting or art based on Azul's Octomer form, and have Azul sit down as they point out EVERY SINGLE good thing about Azul's octoform.

🐙 Azul can't help but tear up at everything being said to/about him, as well as how good MC's artwork of him is.

🐙 Azul also notices that and makes a mental note to ask MC for their expertise in making posters and promotional content for Monstro Lounge.

🐙 When Azul finds out about MC's past, he's probably crying (on the inside or outside is up to you)

🐙 Who knew MC went through so much!

🐙 TELL HIM!! WHAT HAPPENED TO HRE?!?!?!

🐙 And yeah-

🐙 Azul still does what he can to put your talents to good use (exploit), but he's a lot more caring and appreciative for MC.

Scarabia:

Kalim Al-Asim:

☀️ Oblivious Sunshine + Oblivious Sunshine

☀️ = (Jamil's biggest nightmare and headache) Chaos and Laughs

☀️ This baby boi's sunshine and MC's sunshine makes people either squint, gag, or bring out sunglasses. Maybe all three!

☀️ Kalim absolutely LOVES MC!!

☀️ And MC absolutely LOVES Kalim!!

☀️ Anyway, Kalim likes and appreciates MC's outgoing behaviour.

☀️ It's like a breath of fresh air when you study in a school like NRC.

☀️ Kalim tells MC nearly EVERYTHING!

☀️ And MC tells Kalim nearly EVERYTHING too!!

☀️ It's basically looking at a mirror with them 🤣🤣

☀️ Both of them also get in lots and lots of trouble.

☀️ Riddle is usually the Jamil to MC's Kalim-

☀️ Similar dynamics 🤣🤣

☀️ I'm sorry, I just can't get that idea out of my head-

☀️ Again, Kalim and MC are practically the same person-

☀️ So both of them have a fun time together!

☀️ Also, when MC gets Jamil's approval and trust, MC helps prepare food for Kalim and the rest of Scarabia.

☀️ Everyone loves MC's cooking. Yes, even Jamil.

☀️ All-in-all, another very wholesome and sweet friendship between the two.

☀️ When Kalim finds out about MC's past, he's also very concerned and worried about you.

☀️ MC got separated from their brother?! 😱

☀️ THEIR TWIN, NONETHELESS 😭😭😭😭

☀️ He also cries 😭😭😭

☀️ His tears practically become like his Oasis Maker when he hears about Holy Roman Empire/HRE 😭😭😭

☀️ Again, just sweet and absolutely heart-warming friendship here ❤

Pomefiore:

Vil Schoenheit:

👑 Another one who was quite annoyed about MC's first impression.

👑 Also, has a love-hate relationship with MC's curl.

👑 Like, it's okay and fits MC's aesthetic...

👑 But doesn't MC like, brush it??

👑 Also, how does it go all rigid when MC gets scared?

👑 How strange...

👑 Rook follows MC and rants to Vil about them.

👑 MC has caught Rook once and was surprisingly not all that bothered with his behaviour.

👑 MC even prepared some pasta for Rook and his friends!

👑 Don't worry! It's full of healthy stuff!!

👑 Rook brought it to Pomefiore and Vil inspects it.

👑 When he approves, they dig in and Vil is pleasntly surpised with how good the food is.

👑 He approaches MC and asks for the recipe.

👑 MC says that they don't realky have a recipe and that they've just been making pasta for so long, it's practically muscle memory.

👑 So MC thinks of an odea to teach Vil how to make it.

👑 MC is surprisingly pretty strict when it comes to making pasta.

👑 Anyway, MC teaches Vil how to make the noodles, the sauce, little hacks or techniques, etc.

👑 And Vil thinks that perhaps even this potato has their strengths.

👑 During the Pomefiore Arc, MC also volunteers to teach the first years how to sing and dance.

👑 MC is also a pretty laid back teacher.

👑 MC also dances and sings very well.

👑 MC also has great fashion sense. They clearly know what looks good on them and what don't.

👑 Vil approves 🥳🥳

👑 After his overblot, MC does comfort Vil a bit.

👑 But mostly wishes him luck for the VDC performance, and that they're rooting for him ❤

👑 Vil appreciates that and does his absolute best anyway in his performance.

👑 When NRC lost, MC definitely cried.

👑 But they were still happy that everyone did their best!!

👑 Vil and MC do little dress-up hang-outs where they do a mini fashion show.

👑 MC has also made at least one painting or artwork of Vil and other Pomefiore students.

👑 If Vil ever feels down, MC brings out a painting/artwork of Vil and points out everything good about him, like Azul.

Ignihyde:

Idia Shroud:

(Note: This might be pretty short compared to the others as I don't know much about this character. I might edit this soon when I do know more about the character, though.)

💀 Idia was uhh... not so happy about the new student.

💀 He notices that MC is a definite extrovert

💀 Which automatically puts them in his "avoid in all costs" list.

💀 So he definitely avoids MC like the plague covid.

💀 Ortho definitely has interacted with MC before the Ignihyde Arc, so Ortho would sometimes come home with a bag full of pasta or pizza or other Italian delicacies/food.

💀 Idia enjoys the food, though.

💀 He thinks they are absolutely one of the most delicious things in Twisted Wonderland. Other than sweets, of course.

💀 Also, MC definitely reminds Idia of that one anime/game protagonist character.

💀 Except thing is, it's always those characters who are the strongest-

💀 So he's sus of MC 👀

💀 Like Leona-

💀 Anyway, after Ignihyde's full chapter has been released (and after I've watched it, ofc), I'll see if I can edit this to fit the canon story-

💀 But until then, this is all for Idia, I'm so sorry-

Diasomnia:

Malleus Draconia:

(Note: This might be pretty short compared to the others as I don't know much about this character. I might edit this soon when I do know more about the character, though.)

🐉 MC was definitely scared of Malleus at first.

🐉 Like, he's so tall! And scary! Like Russia-

🐉 But MC does learn more about Malleus and finds that he doesn't mean much harm to MC.

🐉 And MC learns to open up and not be so scared of Malleus anymore.

🐉 Anyway, Malleus senses something... off about MC.

🐉 No matter how whimsical they seem to be, he can't help but sense some sort of aura to them...

🐉 It's like Lilia's aura, except a tad bit different...

🐉 He just can't seem to get rid of the suspicion that the child of man is hiding something.

🐉 But surely they wouldn't hurt him, yes? After all, they are magicless.

🐉 And had they wanted to hurt him, they would have done so before, when he has lowered his guard.

🐉 But no... the child of man didn't want to hurt him at all.

🐉 They even prepared pasta and other delicious food for him.

🐉 Now, MC visits Diasomnia pretty iften to prepare them food.

🐉 To save them from Lilia's cooking.

🐉 This is based on a headcanon I found one time, but Malleus makes a typo one time when texting MC.

🐉 The text was meant to say, 'I'm here'; but it said 'I'm hre'.

🐉 When he came in Ramshackle, he finds MC wailing and crying.

🐉 When he finds out about MC's past, he feels pity, synpathy, and sadness for them.

🐉 He also apologizes for making them remember HRE 🥺🥺

🐉 From then on, he's still very sweet around them, and does his best not to do/say anything that might trigger any trauma.

🐉 Another sweetheart here ❤

They find out that MC is a personification of a country:

Riddle: HOW?!?! He would have NEVER guessed that someone like MC would be a country personification. Nonetheless, Riddle is also quite horrified at the fact that he insulted and fought a country personification. He'd also very much show more respect to MC. He wants to know more about MC's country and this Germany you've been talking about a lot.

Leona: Honestly, same reaction as Riddle, but more nonchalant. He doesn't have much of a reaction. But I guess know he knows what he's been having suspicions for.

Azul: WHAT?!?!? NOOO!!! 😱😱 Poor baby is horrified and traumatized! It takes a while for him to calm down a tad. But once he does, he gets real interested in MC's history and food and arts. Also wants to know a couple of tips on how to sell great products! (This video and this video with England as Azul)

Kalim: Really?! Oh wow!! That's so cool!! 🤩🤩 Baby boy doesn't have much of a negative reaction. He also wants to know about MC's history and the other country personifications.

Vil: Oh is that so? Hmm... interesting. Is pretty calm compared to the others. He does treat MC normally, but with more respect than usual. He wants to know the history of fashion and beauty in MC's world and country.

Idia: Oh great seven... 😱😨😨😱😱 Another horrified and traumatized boy. He treats MC more formally and with more respect. He's also pretty curious about the history of the technology in MC's world.

Malleus: Oh dear, is that so, child of man? Hmm... I see. Malleus now understands MC's strange aura. He doesn't act any differently from before finding out, actually. He asks MC about past decisions of the kings/monarchs of their world to understand more about being a king, as a future king himself. He's also interested in MC's history and their friends in their world.

END!

Hi, I'm sorry this took a bit longer than expected for me to finish this; I hope that's alright with you, anon (whoever you are-). But yes, that's it! Please feel free to send in more requests hehe.

[bushdivingbushranger]

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

[buzzykrueger]

The moment when Gon’s priorities start to change - ch. 64 and 65

While working in my meta of the separation scene (which will take some time still, sorry), I came across these chapters again: 64 and 65. Two of my favorite. As a linguistic and literature student, I’m always trying to catch hints in Togashi’s writing - we know he carefully thinks about each word used. Have a good read and keep in mind is just a thought -  and the dialogues and panels chosen to be showed in here are meaningful. This is not a deep research with theory references, but just some of the various examples of how artistic and textual strategies work in Hunter x Hunter, that they are not random and how even the slightest changing of words and switching perspectives can impact the story in order to provoke a reaction, meaning something to the audience, leading us to a way. 

Anyways.

The boys had just finished the Heaven’s Arena, with tons of hints of how they would bond more and more, for example, Killua wanting to evolve with Gon in the same pace regarding both the Floors and the Nen training. The scene where Killua and Gon are meditating together, Killua getting more protective of Gon, as they soon become a pair. 

They take a short well deserved break: it’s time to visit Whale Island. After all, Gon came to Kukuroo Mountain, and Killua wants to recollect what is home to Gon, too. Fair enough, it’s how I understand he’s self-inviting. 

When they arrive. we are introduced to the fact that Gon, someone who deeply cares about his family, hasn’t called once since he passed the Exam. Of course, he got extremely focused on rescuing Killua and then training with him in the Arena, getting distracted. Not that he doesn’t care about Mito or anything, but he’s found something that kept his focus real heard. And Mito imagines what it is. 

Their dialogue and her glance right after that hint why she can’t even be angry at Gon - because she’s not looking at him, only. Every time it would make sense to show only Gon but we get to see Killua by his side, too, is a visual message to the readers. Mito could’ve only looked at Gon, ‘cause she just met Killua and he’s not related to her. But she observes the meaning of his presence, even if Gon does not say it.

The star gazing scene, one of the most important in the story and something we are very familiar with so, sorry to bring it up again - I know you all must be tired of seeing the same panels (but I adore it and I will keep using it). It starts with scenery that are important memories of Gon’s life when he was alone, now bringing a new meaning to them, someone to share with: Killua.

When Killua approached Gon’s plans from now on, and after getting his answer, he questions what he should do. Gon says that he should come with him. 

And here is another example how a simple choice of words - not only the words itself, but the timing when they’re said and the position, the “breath” between then, or even their absence - can mean so much as fantastic and complex storytelling strategies. Because Gon only gets to know that Killua, actually, doesn’t have any plan AFTER he asks him to join. He’s not asking because Killua don’t have it - he didn’t know that before he asked - but because he wants him to stick together. This is why it’s important that this request was said and showed before Killua elaborates on his feelings, so we can know that it’s not because “since you have nothing to do”. And fun fact: Killua is the only friend that Gon actually insists to not leave. The chapter when Kurapika and Leorio head to their goals, Gon just said “oh, already? - okay, see you/good luck/something like that”, with a honest smile. And I know Gon says “see you around” to Killua at the separation scene, but it’s also the first time he's shown unsatisfied with this decision, not smiling at all, implying he’s not okay.

Continuing, its Gon putting Killua in a place that no other belongs. It’s a re-signification of Killua, Gon’s favorite places, his home and their future - everything starts to change and take form to the audience. 

To Gon, it’s about sticking together because they like hanging out. This is the main reason for his request, since it’s the first thing he says about it - and further he adds their individual reasons, to be more convincing, but the core is what it is.

As we know, Mito overheard everything, specially the moment when they start to compliment her and Gon says she is his real mother. Then, later, we have chapter 65, now a re-signification of Gon’s relationship with Ging and Mito.

After accidentally hearing his words, we can interpret that she’s not that insecure anymore about losing Gon to his new found career. It was bittersweet when Gon left, after all “he is indeed his son”. But she realizes he’s different from Ging - he comes back, he values her, he could be in search of something he doesn’t have like news from his biological mom but instead, he chooses to embrace what he does have. Gon can’t even imagine how impactful his reassuring words were, and it’s also a opportunity for Mito to let out the resent on Ging and the Hunters, giving place to finally trust Gon. 

And she tells him what the absence of Ging means to her. How she got hurt, but still wanted to have him around. And that’s when Gon takes Ging out of his place in his heart: it’s time to put him in his true place and make space for those who stay: Mito and Killua. 

We don’t need to give titles and special places to those who are undeserved of it and should just perform a specific role in our lives as we let them. Mito herself craved for Ging’s attention, always running after him, seeing him only by his back, hiding/missing just for him to come to her aid. Gon realizes that it’s what he’s doing - he does not have someone to call a father, because Ging never make up to this title. He downgrades Ging to the same person Mito knew.

And now, even if he still feels the urge to prove Ging he’s not weak and undeserved of attention, company and worth, he definitely is not the same person and does not want to be. Ging is not the “dad who I want to follow the same steps” anymore. And then, we go back to Killua:

 “But Bea, what does this have to do with Killua? We’re only seeing Mito and Gon there!” Actually not! We’re seeing Killua too, but not physically. We get to connect Killua to this scene by a simple line Gon said one chapter before, about Killua’s meaning to his life:

To Gon, it’s enough just to know this answer. Why? This line is VERY specific, literally the same thing he said to Killua in the previous chapter. He chose to bring it to table. It’s a soft - and literary - way to say his priority changed and to connect Killua to his objective. He reclaims Mito as his real mother, downgrades Ging AND shows what it comes first at his mind now - wanting to know if Ging had the same thing he has with Killua, stating his friend’s importance. “Look, Ging, how far I got. Who I took with me. Did you have this?” 

And this could easily be sided with the end of Greed Island, when Gon says the first thing he’ll do when finding Ging is to introduce Killua. ‘Cause in his main goal now, the first things that come up to his mind aren’t being just like Ging and reunite with him anymore - it’s the “friend around my age”, it’s “Killua” and everything that refers to him. It changed. Gon was behind something he didn’t have, his father presence and some pride, and comes back with something even better he didn’t have either: a true friendship, who wants to be there and assure his worth. 

And for me, that is the reason Togashi ends Mito and Gon’s conversation with a specific panel, not of them, not with a picture of Ging, not with the sky only... but with this:

Killua. A person not mentioned in their dialogue directly, and someone who’s not family and isn’t in the same room as them. But that is there, respecting his privacy with Mito. This is there for us to catch. It’s not a direct exchange between Gon and Killua, they’ll still do it in their way, because its meant for us: when two characters are not showed together in the same situation/moment, but are referred directly or indirectly, it’s a writing choice that means “it’s for you, the readers, to connect this.”

Togashi could've never put the “did he have friends his age?” line that wouldn’t make a difference - we would go with this Gon “new approach on Ging” because of how Mito feels, and would be satisfying enough. But the author, with this sentence used in the previous chapter and this panel, it’s reclaiming the audience to catch Gon’s new focus and remind us of Killua, that he’s there, relaxed, patient - and does not intend to leave. 

EDIT: I truly think Mito will play a major role in the realization of Gon’s feelings. She’s, since the beginning, an important person and a cog who makes his significations move, first subconsciously, now more actively - but I’ll elaborate more on that in future posts. 

Not deep, not a serious research, but something fun to elaborate that is implied in text, i’m used to catch this stuff and seeing by this perspective by dealing with literature classes on a daily basis. Does not mean I’m an expert or that I’m right, but that is something I’m quite sure its on purpose. Hope you all enjoyed!

[vierschanzentournee]

Ok this question is honestly a little bit embarrassing BUT I don't understand the r in German. Sometimes it sounds like it isn't pronounced and sometimes it sounds like it's pronounced. With the name Karl, it sounds like it isn't pronounced, but then others pronounce it??? Or am I just dumb lmao also how do you even do the r. My tongue is physically not capable of doing this???? I have never heard of this harsh r before in any other language (maybe russian?) so idk.

Hi Anon! Honestly, this isn't embarrassing - like every language, German's got it's complicated elements, and I can totally see why this might be one for you.

I think a good starting point for thinking about it is to think about English - some varieties of English (for example, nearly all American accents, as well as Canadian, Irish, and Scottish English) pronounce the letter "r" in words like "car" or "board". Other varieties of English, however (such as Australian and New Zealand English, as well as the English spoken in England) don't pronounce the "r" in those words, and instead you might hear speakers say something like "cah" or "bohd". In all varieties of English, though, you'll definitely hear the "r" in words like "rush" or "area" be pronounced.

The key condition here is the position of the "r" (which from now on I'm going to refer to as a "rhotic", the term which linguists use) in relation to the vowels in a word. If a rhotic is between two vowels ("intervocalic") or before a vowel ("prevocalic"), it's pronounced in all varieties; if it's after a vowel and not before another vowel ("postvocalic"), then in some varieties of English it isn't pronounced.

As far as I can tell, more or less the same conditions apply to rhotics in German. So in words (or in this case names) like "Karl" or "Geiger", where the rhotic is postvocalic (translation: the "r" follows a vowel and is followed by a consonant or nothing else), it isn't pronounced. Meanwhile, in "Andreas" and "Severin" the rhotic is either prevocalic or intervocalic, and so it gets to be pronounced!

This leads us on to the second part of your ask - how the fuck do you produce that sound?! To get technical for another minute (I'm so sorry, I'm a linguistics student, I cannot help myself), the rhotic which you're probably thinking of when you think of the "German R" is called a voiced uvular fricative, which you can hear pronounced in isolation on Wikipedia. It's produced by making a closure between the back of the tongue and the uvula (that weird dangly little bit of flesh in the back of your mouth), and it's the same rhotic as is usually found in standard French and Danish. If you're not a native speaker of a language which uses this sound, it can be pretty tricky to learn to pronounce it! My only piece of advice to you here is to listen to a lot of music, podcasts, videos, etc in German (and/or French) to familiarise yourself with the way the language sounds - I wish I could be more helpful, but I picked it up when I was learning French aged around 10, so I can't quite remember what exactly I did (other than that a friend told me I sounded like I was being sick when I spoke French lol).

The good news is that this uvular fricative is not the only rhotic used in German! While it's the most common realisation in Standard German, many varieties of German employ what's called an alveolar trill (which you can hear here) - this is the "rolled r" used in languages like Spanish and Italian (among many others). It's used frequently in Bavarian, Austrian, and Swiss German, and it might be easier for you to produce. If you're like me and you can't roll your r's, you could also use an alveolar tap, which is the most common rhotic in, for example, Polish.

The alveolar tap/trill is probably what you hear most often if you listen to any interviews with German-speaking ski jumpers - the only ones whom I can say for sure use a uvular fricative (off the top of my head, anyway) are Stephan Leyhe (from Hesse) and Richard Freitag (from Sachsen).

This got a bit out of hand, but I hope you found it useful!