#around cleanliness and if someone fails i. cleanliness 1

[llycaons]

the shower pee tags are extremely divisive btw

[multifan2022]

Golden Lies 5

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

 In the tribute center, at the stations all the mentors are shocked. Never before had they seen someone who wasn't teamed up with someone do what you had just done. Mags had tears in her eyes as she watched her kids go through their bags. She had missed the small part where they showed you dumping the bags out. She didn't know what you put in which bag, but she knew watching her tributes that you had stacked the bags in their favor. The only person who you may have grabbed more for would be your friend. 

She looked up at Finnick who had his eyebrows drawn together. He was confused, why had you done that? Why not just end them right there? Why give them a chance to survive? He had been paying attention during the bloodbath where Mags normally looked away. He watched you make the first kill of the game. Watched you slit  the kid from 7s throat like it was nothing. 

Did you do it to be cruel? Did you want them to feel like they had a chance only for them to fail? Or were you incapable of killing them because of their age. Did you like River, the young girl he had just sent into the arena? Was it just too hard for you to kill such a kind girl? He didn't think so, but he had no clue what was going on as he watched you walk away. 

Haymitch had been watching too. Normally by now with both his tributes dead he would be upstairs drinking and waiting for Chaff. But not this year, this year he would be sober... mostly. Watching this girl he felt so deeply connected with. He even requested permission from the gamer maker to watch from your screen. If he could gain control of your screen, he could send in parachutes. He hadn't heard back yet, but he was hopeful. 

That day was spent walking, exploring what you could of the forest and trying to find somewhere relatively defensible to sleep. The entire day you could tell Hardin had something he wanted to say. Maybe multiple things as the lines in his forehead kept getting deeper. But he focused, watching the woods for anything besides your footsteps. 

When you found somewhere to sleep he listened as you detailed the things you two needed and started to help you gather. It wasn't until after you had found a squirrel you recognize from the ‘safe foods’ chart in the gym that he spoke. You had been slowly picking at it, watching to make sure that Hardin gets enough before you. Considering you had eaten this morning at breakfast and he hadn't you wanted to make sure he ate something. 

The furrow in his brows was starting to annoy you as the sun settled, “Ok.. Spit it out. What's the problem?” You said looking at him with that ‘dont bullshit me’ look, letting him know that you were not going to play around. He sighed, and dropped the bones from his animal into his lap pulling at its rib cage trying to get a bone off cleanly. 

“Why did you help those kids.. Don't give me some bullshit answer about giving them their best chance and whatever. You killed someone at the cornucopia no? Did you go deep into the fight to get weapons for them? Is it because of that guy, their mentor? Just tell me the truth.” 

You scoffed and stood up now annoyed that he was questioning you. “First off, I absolutely did not do it for Finnick. I helped them because I would rather spend a little time giving them some supplies than watch her get slaughtered next to me. I don't know why but I just identified with her. Maybe it was her innocence or something, but I just couldn't kill her..” 

Watching him look at you incredulously with his head tilted made you want to smack him. “Then why did you go so far into the horn..” He said standing up now too. He stomped the small fire out as he looked around to make sure no one was coming. You laughed humorlessly as you dug into your pocket. Tossing the bag across the space at him you didn't speak until after he caught it. 

“I had a feeling I needed to get that..” 

When he opened it, the first thing he saw was a note. ‘To give you a fair, fighting chance.’ When he dug further into the bag his fingers pulled out a pill. His pills, he dumped them out carefully into his hand and counted five. Five days that he could fight, five days he could protect you. Five days to get you home. He swallowed hard, having heard stories from his father about things like this. Tributes getting special gifts or sponsorships, and the price that came attached to them. “How did you get this?” 

“Ah it seems like the game makers were generous and gave the boy from 9 enough pills to last a few days! That will make the people happy, there was a lot of outrage last night after his interview.” Caesar says, clapping the table a few times. 

But all Finnick and Haymitch can see are the white roses on the bag. They know its not from the game makers, but from Snow himself. They have the same question that Hardin did. What did you do or promise to do to get that medication? And what would it cost you if you got out of the games. 

“Not important. What's important is you shutting your mouth and not picking fights with me. We can not be at odds right now over things that don't matter. Those kids from 4.. Not a threat to us, even with what I gave them. But we are a threat to each other if we are fighting.” You stepped around the small embers now glowing on the ground speaking again when you could grab one of his wrists. 

“We have to be on our top game, Hardin. Otherwise we will get ourselves and each other killed. I don't want to hear about this again. No Finnick, no questions about the meds. Just keeping each other alive.” He nodded, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. “I'm sorry. I wont get worked up again.” 

You patted his cheek as you pulled back, “Get those put away and somewhere on your body like a jean pocket. That way if a bag gets left or a coat gets pulled off you won't lose them. We need to move, in case someone saw some smoke. Then we can figure out rotations and get some rest.” 

That night, you walked until you heard the Panem anthem. You watched as the tribute's faces flashed through the sky. Both from 12, both from 11, the girl from 10, and the boys from 6, 7, and 5 and the girl from 8. “Nine down.” Hardin said as he unrolled the sleeping bag. “13 more to go.” You said softly looking over at him “You take the first rest, I'll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~

The next day and a half were completely uneventful for the two of you. More walking, you had looted one body though and found a freshwater stream. The body of the girl from 5, it seemed she got a decent amount of stuff. Sunscreen, some rations, gloves and some fishing line. 

So with the bone hook that Hardin had painstakingly made the first night during his watch, the two of you fished. Caught something that you hated the taste of, and you were very vocal about it. That night you had seen that only the 5 girl and the boy from 10 had died. You both knew things were going to ramp up if things got to boring. 

On the third day, things started to warm up. Water was being drunk a little faster, the fresh green grass was starting to turn into an unwatered brown. Sweat was starting to form from just walking as the sun stayed up longer. Your shirts were peeled off by the time the sun was high, you in just your jeans and a sports bra. 

You wanted to follow the stream and see if you found a larger body of water, but with how hot it was becoming, Hardin thought it would be better to be in the shade. He also pointed out that other tributes would be looking for water harder now too. So into the woods you went, trekking for what felt like hours. With the game makers controlling how long the days and nights really were, it was hard to tell how long it had actually been. 

“Do you see those marks on her back?” Caesar said squinting harder at his little screen just like his co host. “Hardin keeps looking over at them like they bother him.” 

Everyone in the training center turned from their own monitors which only watched their tributes to the main screen. Finnick felt his face heat up as he realized you had stripped off the top two layers of your outfit. But it was replaced quickly with curiosity over what Caesar had pointed out. 

They could all see the thin white lines that ran in miss match patterns across your back. Finnick looked down at Mags who was looking sadly up at the screen as well. “Scars..” was all she said before looking away to watch her tributes again. Finnick kept watching and listening to the main screen, hoping to hear an explanation. 

Haymitch, who had gotten permission just this morning on what was actually the fifth day to act as your off screen mentor, was watching from the district 9 tablet. Up close he could see just how many scars there were. His skin crawled at the thoughts that ran through his head as he wondered. His questions would soon be answered though as he heard Hardin's voice. 

“Do you remember the day we met?”

You paused for only half a step as you heard your friend's words. You knew he had been staring at your back, you could practically feel it. And had it not been for the heat, you would've put your t-shirt back on. Instead of ignoring him though, you played along thinking maybe the story would buy him some love in the Capitol. 

“Of course.. My father had beat me within an inch of my life, with a steer whip. I still don't know how he got his drunk hands on it. I can remember him screaming at me, about me not being his child and blah blah. Momma was a whore or whatever.” You rolled your eyes as you searched out for other tributes or beasts. 

“You were barely conscious when I found you in that alley. I dropped you twice trying to carry you home.” Hardin said as he remembered “My mom thought you were dead when I brought you in.” You nodded and went to carry on but swore you heard something. You raised your hand closing it into a fist that caused him to stop too. 

Your head turned towards the sound as you raised your spear, ready for battle. From just a few feet away, a person that wasn't supposed to be in the arena stepped out. Someone who wasn't even alive, walked from behind a tree with a blank dead look. The body turned limply and stared at you and Hardin, none of you moving as your heart rate spiked. 

“Ah yes.. It says here on our maker's sheet that part of this forest recreates your worst fear. Clearly our little Goddesses worst fear is this man. Gotta say he doesn't look like he's in the best shape.” 

All the mentors were watching the screen, Haymitch's screen beeping alerting him to your high heart rate. He watched the screen in worry, speaking lowly, but due to the quietness of the game and the room most people heard him. “Come on Sweetheart.. You can do this.” 

Both you and Hardin took a step back as your eyes stayed locked on your father. His skin gray and falling off in places, holes where it looked like something had eaten him were scattered across his body as well. He tilted his head and smiled at you as your breathing picked up audibly. 

“You're dead.. He's dead.. This isn't real.. This isn't real.” You whispered to yourself as you raised your spear. It left your hand and flew literally through his chest, leaving a gaping hole that didn't bleed or heal. A decaying hand came up and touched the hole, before he charged you. 

The sickle found your hand as his body slammed into yours. You could hear Hardin screaming, fighting off what looked like you. He was struggling clearly confused as to why you were attacking him. He didn't want to hurt you, even as you said things like ‘I will never love you.’ and ‘You're just holding me back’. 

The duplicates words angered you. You had always been good at compartmentalizing, so that's what you did. You shoved away the thoughts of killing what kind of looked like your father, and focused on saving Hardin. You fought his hands off your throat, which you had just realized were cutting off your air. 

“I wish your mother had killed you. It's your fault she's dead. I hate you!” The zombie dad screamed and you just rolled your eyes. You had not missed this, the emotional or physical abuse from the man. “Yeah yeah.. I'm a horrible kid.. Blah blah.. Let's get this over with.” 

You sliced out with the sickle, catching his arm as he raised it defensively. You watched as he held his hand out to the open air, it was empty, you were confused. Just as you raised the sickle to cut his hand off, you watched a whip materialize. You felt your heart shoot up again, sweat from the heat and your own trauma pouring down your body. 

You hadn't realized you long you had paused until the tip of the whip caught your face. You felt the skin split open straight down to your cheek bone. The force knocked your head back and caused you to stumble. “Yes.. This is your worst fear isn't it.. Me being back to whip you again..” His words didn't even register over the pain of the next hit, this time across your open chest. A scream ripped from your lungs as more skin split, nerves becoming exposed to the air as crack after crack screamed through the air. “Your screams are louder now that you're not a child.” 

“That's just horrible.. To think that her father whipped her as a child, how traumatic this must be for her. Our poor little goddess.” 

For the first time since becoming a mentor, Finnick turned away from the screen. But he could still hear the crack and your screams, so his feet forced him to leave the room. He was glad that he did, because he felt like he was going to throw up. How had a girl he talked to maybe three times affected him this much. He didnt even flinch when kids were brutally murdered at the blood bath. 

Without thinking, he made his way to the bar ordering himself a shot that he downed far too quickly. He felt someone walk up next to him so he turned his head sizing up the man who stood there. He was wearing a suit, all gold with butterflies outlined in black. His tie looked like it had textured butterfly's and his beard was weird and wavy. Had he really had that made between last night and this morning? 

“I would like to know how to sponsor the tributes from 9. Who can I speak with?” His voice was cool and almost calculating. When he turned back to look at a group of other men, Finnick followed his gaze. They all looked excited, like they were all in on this together. “Abernathy has taken up residence at their monitor. I'll go get him for you.” 

If Finnick had only known the door he was opening.. He wouldve told them to fuck off. He wouldve screamed, begged and bedded whoever he needed too, to save you from the life he basically just signed you too. He wouldve told Haymitch to never speak to this man. But he didnt know, he didnt know.. f

Hardin's scream pulled you from your own nightmare. When you turned your head, you saw him pinned to a tree with both the duplicates hands around his neck. The pain that you were in suddenly didn't matter, that same autopilot came on. The snap connects again, this time to your neck. The warm blood running down is a contrast to the cold sweat beading there. It should've been scary to you how natural it felt to kill when it took over. You felt like a completely different person just stepped into your skin. 

Everyone watching watching from the real world got to see something most hand never witnessed. The moment someone starts to slip. They watch your eyes as you watch your friend, they see the muscle just under your left eye twitch. They feel more than see the first nerve crack. The first feather on the camels back of your sanity. They all watch their goddess, take her first step down to hell.

Your hand raised seconds before the crack, the whip wrapped around your palm. Bones crushed when your fingers closed over the leather. Now it was just who was faster and stronger. When the zombie dad ripped his arm back, you ripped yours too. Effectively, since he was falling apart the motion pulled his arm clean from his body. Both the whip and the arm vanished from view. 

You didn't feel anything as your legs stood, the stinging in your chest, arms and face didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to Hardin. You had dropped your sickle somewhere, and knew the throwing knives you had shoved into random pants pockets wouldn't be any help. You knew nothing about these mutts, not how to kill them or how to make them go away. 

But you knew their body parts came off, and clearly didn't grow back. So if you could remove the things head, then you could get rid of it right? It seemed logical to you, so you assessed the area. If you could jump high enough there was a branch you could reach, maybe pull the thing off the ground? It was your best shot at this moment. 

“What do you think she's going to do? Our sources say that she needs to decapitate the mutation. But she doesn't have a weapon, and her partner is busy fighting his mutt. Weird that his worst fear is his best friend hating him. This must be very hard for the both of them.” Caesar said leaning so close to his screen that he was almost out of frame. The district 9 tributes were undoubtedly his favorite in a long time. 

“I don't know Caesar. I'm impressed that they have lasted this long or that she has been so ruthless. I mean she only scored a five! Do you think it was all an act or did something just click when she got to the arena?” His co-host said while tapping a pen on the desk. 

Pushing with everything you had, you ran. It caught the mutt off guard so when he stumbled back a step you were perfectly placed to get one foot on his leg and jump. Your hands wrapped around a sturdy branch at the same time your legs locked around his neck. One ankle tucked under the other thigh in a death drip. 

It took every ounce of core body strength you had to lift him up. Your arms were aching already as his dirty nails dug into your legs. Your body was shaking from adrenaline, pain, and exhaustion but you knew if you stopped two more cannons would be going off. You weren't sure how long it was before you felt the skin of his neck start to rip. 

The feeling had you almost gagging, as you held him just an inch or two from the ground. When his hands fell from your legs, and you felt the weight of his body leave you looked down. His head rolled from between your thigh and calf, a thud alerting you to both hitting the ground. You didn't give yourself a second to breathe as your feet hit the grass. 

You ran towards Hardin who was still trying to fight a paler version of you off. He had tears running down his face as he whispered to himself  ‘This isn't real. She's not real.’ A glint of metal caught your eye causing you to bend over as you ran. A sickle now in your hand as you reach your best friend. 

“Oh my god. She's going to kill a look a like of herself. This is amazing.”

Nothing about the scenario was processed as both hands wrapped around the handle of the sickle. It cut through the mutts neck like a warm knife through butter. The hands that were clawing into Hardin's neck now gone, as there was another thud and then smoke. Both bodies now disappear into nothing. 

Hardin stared at you, covered in whip marks and bleeding. Both your heart rates through the roof as you struggle to breath. You knew this had fucked you both up a little mentally. He could see that look, the one everyone else saw. It terrified him, but you couldn't stop to talk about it, you needed to keep moving. “There was too much noise from this.. We need to move. Now.” You didnt turn to see if he was following you, just grabbed your bag and looked for your spear. But it too had disappeared, you figured the game makers took it from you.

~

~

~

@avis15 @liballer @avoxrising

[childishred]

The Weird World chronicles

Chapter 1 "The foundations of a house"

Only a couple of years ago, on some planet far far away, stood a big house. It was a female house which had a soul, she was strong and stable and stood the test of time. Bigger in height than in width, a mixed breed of dark red brick and birch wood, and she survived every storm there was, keeping her tenants safe.

There were many a rooms, many unoccupied. The house was owned by a very stereotypical fictional grandmother, Grandma Applehead. She was a short ample lady with short white curly hair who often wore green aprons and shower caps (that made her look like a harmless alien). She loved to bake fruit pies and clean and upgrade her rustic, colorful and traditional home.

The living room and kitchen were shared by all the tenants. They were BIG and BEAUTIFUL; colorful tiles, levels, wooden stairs, pretty counters, clay roosters, needlepoints, heavy polished chairs, detailed carpets, fruit baskets...And it always smelled like cleanliness and cinnamon.

However, only 3 people lived in the house. Even though it was an isolated house on an isolated planet, that wasn't really a problem because of the unique culture of that world. I think simply no one really heard of it, no one knew it was an option.

I would tell you more, but you have to tune in.

...

THE SECOND TENANT

She woke up and it was a monotonous morning. Rays of light stabbed the colorful glass of her window without even asking first. Kyrie rose in a simple white night gown and widely opened the window. The same old branch was still there. It was as if The Tree had grown it to keep her in check. Or perhaps Grandma Applehead asked it to, so her tenant could smell the luring scent of apple blossoms when time came.

As every day starts off, there really is nothing to do. Nothing to make it worth a diary entry. You have to really try, and often fail to find something weird.

She ran downstairs but no one was there in the joint living room/kitchen. No one was in the laundry room. The gryphon room was empty. The stuff room was really hollow when it came to people, but it was really not hollow when it came to stuff.

So she went outside and referred to The Tree and the guardian dragon.

"At least you're here." Kyrie said to her.

"I'm always here." The dragon's voice was deep and stable.

"Why? Don't you ever want to go fly?"

"I'm a noble animal, and this is my duty. I want to be here and protect the house."

"Well, do you know anything I could do today? Someplace I could go explore?"

"There is a mystery that was under your nose the whole time, but Grandma told me not to tell you unless you asked."

The dragoness moved and the ground beneath her opened up and presented a spiral staircase going under.

"It really was under my nose. Thanks, dragon!"

The girl was armed with nothing but a golden brown pretzel and messy hair and descended down the tiles. They were light pink and orange. Around the staircase there was nothing, just void. She wondered if she fell off to the side, would she ever meet a bottom.

Then there was a room behind a locked door. She couldn't see the walls around the door. It was like a hallway with no light on either side. And Kryie felt the hard bristles of a rug under her bare feet. She also felt a little scared.

"I watch enough TV to know where this goes!"

With a grin she flipped over the rug as if someone was watching her and she had to show off. The key was right there and she unlocked the room.

It wasn't what she expected; it was warm and rustic, like an extension of the house. She could hear rhythmic thumping. There were glass display cabinets with honey colored whiskey bottles. The room smelled like beeswax. Everywhere she looked she saw hung up pictures and documents. They were of financial nature, describing the price of construction material used to build the residence.

Big crumbles of wall were on the wooden floor. She looked up and the ceiling was fractured. The roots of The Tree had made their way there and climbed down. They led to the center of the room.

And right there, between the big fancy chairs was a casket made by the finest carpenter's hand. It was colored red and green with rose ornaments. And by the casket, a book in a glass case. With a push of a soft button the transparent box opened and she gently unfolded the book. It was fat and stuffed with little papers. But primarily, it was a photo and letter album. There were very old pictures in sepia and gray tones depicting a young Grandma Applehead with tight skin and her late husband.

There were pictures of them pouring cement, planting The Tree, holding peace signs next to a giant crab on some beach, and one was them embracing a baby. The baby was way too predictable and uncool sucking its thumb, she thought.

Little spiders ran across her feet.

[toristbr]

Sea Stars & Wishes - Chapter 1

Lyrika

The cleanliness of the lab tables reflect like mirrors before being dirtied by notebooks, laptops, and folders. The color range of students’ clothing brings life to the still whiteness of the room.

Mr Sutton, a fresh out of college graduate student still in his colorful hair and monthly tattoo phase, stands at the front of the room. He leans against the front desk, his full-sleeve tattooed arms propped on the desk, supporting him.

“This is where you will be conducting your experiments for the next week,” Mr. Sutton explains as he walks around the room, handing each student a small plastic white card, “the card I am handing to you now is your access key to this room and the different aquatic rooms in this area. May I make myself clear: at all times you are in a room, a staff member of this facility must be in the room as well.

“You each have your approved topics to begin researching. You have a week to gather the research you need. Do not worry about writing your report; you will have another week to compose it once we return. If you have any questions, you may ask me or other faculty. Better yet, just as the aquarium’s marine biologists and care specialists. They know this place like the back of their hand, and know all their aquatic friends much better than I do.”

Mr. Sutton hands out the last access card and returns to the front of the room, “the aquarium’s regular hours of operation still apply. So once the aquarium closes, it’s closed. However, the research labs are usually open 24/7, but once again if you do not see a specialist or a biologist there or in any of the other rooms do not stay or work. If I am notified that someone broke the rules, you will be sent home and I will fail you in this class. I would hate to have to do that.” He looks around the room once more, “you may all begin your assignments. Good luck.”

Students scramble around as if a shotgun rings out. They quickly grab their belongings and push one another to be first out the door.

“Why is it that all the girls are horny the moment they see a beautiful man?” One of the four male students, Oliver, scoffs. A majority of the class, all female students, had chosen the merman as their topic. Very few decided on different species- the remaining six students in the class of twenty. 

“The same way all guys get a little too excited when they see a bikini model on a magazine cover,” Cassidy, a light-skinned latina with long, fried black hair, retorts as she rolls her eyes, “right, Lyrika?”

A pool of coiled brown hair is flipped back by an arm, revealing Lyrika, a mixed white-black girl with a face of angel kisses and a set of enchanting light green eyes. Her curly hair shuffles around as Lyrika turns to the commotion of the room. The other three boys stand behind Oliver and Cassidy near Lyrika, in a face off.

“Uh, yeah sure,” Lyrika quietly and quickly adds. Oliver scoffs and leads the boys out of the room. Cassidy turns to her.

“Still doing starfish as your project?” Cassidy takes a seat next to Lyrika.

“Sea stars,” Lyrika corrects, “but yes. Which rays are you studying again? Sting or Manta?”

“Sting! The ray pool is right next to your pool, so I figured we’d walk together,” answers Cassidy as she clips her hair up.

“Yeah, just let me grab my things,” Lyrika responds. She quickly gathers her notebook, polaroid camera, and pencil case. 

Lyrika and Cassidy would both agree they weren’t friends outside of the classroom. More-so acquaintances- well, Lyrika is smart and Cassidy needs to pass one more science class in order to graduate, so she has glued herself to the smart girl. A commensalism symbiotic relationship if you will, because in the end Lyrika is left unaffected while Cassidy gains her needed credit.

The two girls exit the classroom, making small talk about their project topics and research goals. They exit the basement of research facilities and make their way up the staircase. It leads them to the lobby, and from there they take the next staircase to the top floor of the aquarium. Their respective sea pools are in the far back corner because of the extra space it takes for the public to pet and feed the sea stars and rays.

Lyrika and Cassidy pass by their other female peers as they surround the merman’s tank. The two glance over at the giggling mess. Cassidy immediately shrugs it off and looks away, but Lyrika watches with pity. She notices the animal care specialist, Junhee, who showed them around earlier helping Song onto a rolling palette.

“Don’t tell me you're mesmerized by his beauty too,” Cassidy playfully elbows Lyrika.

“I��m not,” Lyrika raises her eyebrows, “it’s just sad.”

“Yeah. But there is nothing we can do about it,” Cassidy sighs. The two arrive at the sea star pool, the closer of the two.

“Ray pool is right over there,” Cassidy points to the larger pool about 20 feet away, “I’ll see you at dinner then. Save me a seat!” Cassidy waves as she walks away. Lyrika smiles before turning her attention to the small shallow pool in front of her. She walks around the pool once to take in what she has to work with, which isn’t much. She places her items on a bench nearby and opens her notebook to the first page- her to-do daily lists.

Monday : Observation & Documentation

Take pictures of all sea stars Sketch sea star pool Note types and quantity Water temperature : ___ Placement of exhibit in aquarium Document items and other organisms in exhibit

With her polaroid, Lyrika snaps a picture of every star in the shallow pool. She mentally notes there are only five different species, significantly less than she thought there would be. After each polaroid prints, she walks over to a bench and spaces them out for them to develop- a tedious task, but in the end when her project is complete, it’ll be all worth it. After placing down the last undeveloped polaroid, she trades her camera for her notebook. She flips to a fresh page where she notes down each species and their quantity:

Horned Sea Stars : 3 Red Knob Sea Star : 2 Sand Sifting Sea Star : 5 Honeycomb Sea Star : 2 Cushion Sea Star : 5

Lyrika draws a line under the species list, separating the rest of the page. She slowly walks around the pool once more, noting the other species and their quantity in the pool. She trades for her camera once more and takes a singular picture of the sand dollar, purple sea urchin, red sea urchin, and black sea urchin.

“You’re doing your project on sea stars?” An excited female voice asks. Lyrika turns around to find one of the aquarium's care specialists, easily identifiable in their dark blue collared shirts, looking over her polaroids spaced out on the bench. The girl has deep brown, almost black, skin with a short cut afro with flaming red tips. Gold round wire glasses not only enhance the structure of her face but make her brown eyes almost appear amber-like.

“Oh, yeah,” Lyrika awkwardly laughs.

“Well, if you have questions, I’m the sea star care specialist. My name is Layla,” she cheerfully waves.

“Really?” Lyrika perks up,“when is your next feeding time?”

“Wednesday! It’ll be about 2:30 when we feed them!” she answers, “we have it set up so the public can also feed them, although it’s not as exciting as it sounds. The sea stars are picky and slow when it comes to getting their food.” 

“Could I help feed them?” Lyrika asks.

“Of course! If your friends want to as well, we’d be more than happy to have you guys feed them,” she answers. Suddenly her watch buzzes. “I gotta head out now. But I’ll see you Wednesday for sure, if not before then!” 

Lyrika waves to Layla as she leaves and then quickly turns back to her project. She hunches over and sighs. Lyrika hates the social anxiety of handling extroverts… well, handling them alone. When her friends are around, she has no problem being a little butterfly herself, but usually even then, her friends do all the talking and she enjoys the people-watching.

Lyrika shakes her head to focus once more at her project in front of her. She quickly finishes counting all the urchins in the tank and visible sand dollars- which she writes in the margin to ask later how many are actually in the tank. She flips the page in her notebook and turns it sideways. 

Lyrika walks to the front of the pool and slowly sketches it out in her notebook to use as a reference later on in her presentation for Mr. Sutton. It doesn’t need to be perfect, she could take a picture on her phone later to use as a reference for the final sketch but, getting a head start and practice will help later on.

“Back so soon, Miss Belle?” Mr. Sutton asks, looking up from the book he is reading. He’s leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk.

“Finish with what I needed today,” she answers, “thought I’d explore a little before we all leave for the day.” Lyrika places her belongings back into her bag.

Mr. Sutton nods and looks back to his book, “just remember the rules.”

“Yes sir,” Lyrika quietly responds, grabbing her phone and access keycard and leaving the room once more.

Outside of the classroom, the hallway is bleak, all white with small color-coded signs directing to different types of rooms. Lyrika walks down the hallway, further into the research and care area. Most of the rooms have windows where she can peek in. She spots her peers and other marine biologists working and chatting away. She views lab rooms, computer rooms, conference rooms, and large sea animal care rooms.

Lyrika stops at a window that looks right into a stingray pool, and not too far beyond it looks like a sea star pool based on what the pool on the second story looks like. She walks to the door, pulling out her keycard, and holds it up the door sensor on the wall.

The light turns green and the lock on the door clicks. Lyrika pulls the door open and steps inside the room.

“Hello?” Lyrika calls out.

“Around the corner!” A male’s voice calls.

Lyrika allows the door to close behind her and she slowly walks through the room, admiring the aquatic creatures in each of the small pools. Lyrika approaches a smaller pool, peering in to find sea stars… or what is left of them. A heavy sensation pushes on her shoulders and chest. An almost suffocating feeling.

What’s happening to them? Why are they sick? How are they sick? Where did these sea stars come from? 

Lyrika walks around the corner of the room to ask the worker, but stops when she sees the silver merman in a somewhat large enough pool. His arms leaning on the rim of the pool and his tail flicking in the water. He stares at the wall, clearly bored out of his mind.

“Song.”

[ming-sik]

Reporting in as the fandom's second woman enjoyer to ramble more!

Charlotte:

Ahhh, Charlotte. She's being crushed under generations of trauma and constantly drawn and quartered by the fact that everyone in her life has diametrically opposed and contradictory expectations of her.

Florencia wants her to be the next aub, Sylvester wants her to be a support to her siblings, and Rozemyne wants her to be her adorable devotee, any of which are an exhausting burden to place on someone and any of which are impossible to do if she wants to do the other one. Charlotte herself seems to want to be aub, but nobody in her life is invested enough in her to say for sure.

Even when Wilfried's aubhood is no longer guaranteed(which it never truly needed to be and the fact that Sylvester was unable to imagine a happy future for Wilfried in which he wasn't the aub for a long time is part of why my guy is not making it out of internalized bias hell), although Charlotte is in the room and it's specifically pointed out that it's been unfair to lock her out of even competing, she's not named as the successor! The door is still left open for Wilfried despite the fact that unlike her, he really is only aiming to be aub because he's been told the alternative is shameful.

She mirrors Georgine in a very interesting way, which is something I've talked about before, because of that thing where Sylvester is attempting to spare his children from the trauma he suffered without understanding why exactly it happened and is therefore recreating a lot of that trauma. The ultimate problem is still that she has no control over her own life and although she can ruin her life if she fails, she can't improve her life if she succeeds because all the oxygen in her future is being thoroughly monopolized by her protagonist-of-the-universe older sister and default golden child older brother. She has to beg Rozemyne to try not to advance Ehrenfest's grades to the point that Charlotte literally cannot improve on them and Rozemyne thinks that she never thought about leaving room for Charlotte to show off before proceeding to ignore that plea completely. Her frustration at Wilfried treating her retainers as his own never really goes anywhere.

Charlotte has every right to hate her family and yet that same pressure has made her suicidally willing to repress her feelings. Her life debt to Rozemyne and feelings of obligation towards her father and brother mean that despite being metaphorically ripped apart for the entirety of the story, she puts on a brave face and is genuinely thankful for even being allowed to compete in the race for succession. In many ways this is worse because it means that she's never allowed to hash these things out with them! We as the audience can ascertain why she's fallen through the cracks and know that if Sylvester and Florencia had been chewed out for not communicating with her or each other enough to realize that they were forcing her into contradictory positions they very likely would've been willing to change! AOB is quite bad at having satisfying character conflict and conflicts outside of Rozemyne and the other one are basically nonexistant, so Charlotte's situation being addressed would've required that either 1) that... change, or 2) Rozemyne's own unfair expectations for Charlotte also be addressed, and it would've been impossible to resolve quickly or cleanly.

Egg said it already but tbc Charlotte's neglect isn't bad because Charlotte is extremely competent, it's bad because she's a kid. If she had crumbled under the pressure and started failing her classes that wouldn't make the way she's treated any more justified.

Detlinde:

If Detlinde has no fans I am no longer on this earth, she was right in everything she did and if she was wrong I still support her and if you don't you hate women.

Every day of my life I am thinking about abused kids who respond to their abuse incorrectly. Kids who are Bad Victims, who are unpleasant to be around, who are hostile and strange and incompetent. At this point in my life I have a personal rule not to develop a vitriolic hatred for any child characters, but that really wasn't hard for Detlinde. She's just a kid!

The thing about Detlinde is that, although the narrative tries to vilify her by showing how much everyone else hates her, this has the opposite effect, because holy shit living in a house where everyone fucking hates you melts your brain, and Detlinde really acts like a kid who grew up in a house where she was treated as an eternal eyesore. She's her own cheerleader, clinging with bloody fingers to the idea that she is better than this place and that someday she will be big and strong and all the people who hate her will be left in the dust, because what else is she gonna do? Accept the view of herself that people project on her, one in which everything she does from wanting to put nice smelling flowers in her house to wanting to land a prestigious job is not only unspeakably arrogant but also indicative of some kind of inherent evil?

The idea that victims shouldn't have to sympathize with their bullies is entirely correct, but who exactly counts as a victim seems to get overstated a lot and dismissing abuse because the victim isn't sympathetic enough is actually an abuse tactic in and of itself. If Detlinde's classmate or servant thinks she's a jerk and never wants to see her again, that's entirely different from Georgine or Ferdinand acting like the victim of the teenage girl they're currently abusing lashing out at them. Also tellingly, the hatred at Detlinde does not in fact seem to come from the fact that she's a bully, it literally is just that she gets in the way of peoples' ship.... unwillingly and despite her best efforts. Most of the hate is calling her a homewrecker or a whore or an idiot because those are the things Ferdinand hates her for. Those last two things aren't even sins! Gervasio drugged her and unlike Rozemyne, Detlinde doesn't have a modern university education to compensate from being tossed into a closet for a decade and a half before she was suddenly expected to speedrun an adc education, so due to my generous soul I'm willing to forgive her for getting overwhelmed.

Also yeah I'll say it too the "Christmas outfit" rules. What's wrong with being glitzy? She's performing in a religious ritual in the starring role as the goddess of light, so it's very strange that the story judges her for wanting to stand out and look pretty. The hairstyle she comes up with would've taken an enormous amount of effort, and although she got the idea from Rozemyne, I am personally much more impressed by the determination and energy to purposefully execute an impressive project than bumbling into it because you have a lot of mana. Her only crime is not doing a dress rehearsal. It's a very lazy attempt to vilify her for being arrogant and incompetent, but its laziness betrays the extremely low standard the story has for what makes a woman hateworthy.

Hirschur:

Hirschur is one of the few characters from the RA period that actually work, not least because she's actually a character who benefits from existing in a school setting. She strikes a wonderful mix of oddball eccentric mad scientist and genuinely caring teacher in a way where those two sides of her complement each other rather than it seeming like she is two entirely different characters depending on which tone the series is currently in which is a problem that Rozemyne struggles with or not having a serious mode at all which Hartmut struggles with. This lets her be funny without being grating and means that she feels like she would be really fun to hang out with. Also props for being like the only female character in the entire series who is allowed to be an old woman without being shoved into either the grandmother or old hag personality archetype, very cool and not sexist that those are otherwise absent.

My favorite Hirschur moment is unquestionably her conversation with Sylvester, where after he both apologizes for not noticing that she was suffering under Veronica and offers to support her from now on, she... says no. She originally took the hit from Veronica to avoid being beholden to the whims of the archducal family re: which students she's allowed to take on and which students she's allowed to help. This is immediately followed by Sylvester asking if that changes when Rozemyne graduates and Hirschur saying it definitely could. This works on two levels. First it is really funny. Secondly although she's not interested in having financial support used to pressure her into keeping an eye on someone who already has plenty of people in her corner, she was willing to take that hit and only clarified her position after Sylvester accepted her terms. She carries that through, too. She doesn't kowtow to Ferdinand or Aub Ehrenfest or the royal family, her students are her business and never you mind what she's doing in that lab of hers. She's not polite, but she's kind in her own way. Also executive dysfunction queen she cannot change tasks quickly, her not being able to stop working to clean her lab despite KNOWING Lieseleta is bringing the vacuum of death is so funny.

Delia:

Delia is one of the most heartbreaking characters in the entire series. She's another kid who has reacted Incorrectly to being abused. She's ostracized almost immediately and nobody makes any genuine attempt to break her loyalty to the High Bishop despite the fact that we do learn that she is clinging to him so desperately because she feels she has no other option. She never fully opens her heart to Myne because she feels certain that Myne will betray her sooner or later and Myne helpfully confirms that fear a thousand times over by leaving her in a worse position than she found her.

Myne asking Delia if she "can do anything else" is always painful for me to read both because it's one of the clearest examples of Myne having zero compassion for her, forcing her to plead not to be abandoned entirely and teaching Delia that Myne's favor is as inextricably tied to her usefulness as the High Bishop's, and also nobody present seems to care that if this is the only thing she's been allowed to do that's pretty fucking tragic, isn't it? She's eight years old and she's already internalized that her purpose in life is to be used for the sexual gratification of men, only to have that trauma be used to tell her she's entirely worthless. What a fucking world!

The thing about Delia is that despite the attempts both the narrative and the society she lives in adultifying her, she still is agonizingly eight years old. She can't understand why Myne didn't come save her back then even if she also knows that Myne wasn't there back then(and then Myne promises to always save her from now on, which is a lie). She's only eight! She's giddy when she gets new clothes, she loves taking baths, she's grumpy and childish and at the very start of her life.

And then, through her attempt to help her brother, she's trapped in the source of her trauma forever. Unprompted too, like Egg says Myne really could've just fucking lied and said Delia's worst fear was living in the lower city or at the very least waived her punishment after becoming the High Bishop. Instead Delia just vanishes from the story except as a blink-and-you-miss-it side character.

I need to claw my way into the pages and tell Delia that it's okay, it's all over now, she can go outside and make some friends and become a seamstres or a carpenter or a fisher and do anything she wants to for the rest of her life and it's not too late for her at all.

Best female AoB character in your opinion?

Boy oh boy do I got Opinions™ about female characters in AoB!

So the thing is that if you plunked any given female character in front of me, my opinion is bound to be at least a little bit positive on some level. Yes, even Veronica. Yes, even Detlinde. Especially Detlinde. And many, many more.

So much so that I had a very difficult time narrowing things down to answer this ask— and unfortunately for y'all I thunk™ about it too much and was ultimately unable to narrow it down to one.

So we're getting: Charlotte, Detlinde, Hirschur, and Delia.

FOUR CHARACTERS, BABY. LET'S GO!

Charlotte

Charlotte is a very fascinating character, in my opinion. Generations' worth of grudges and torment and abuse, all crystalizing in this generation— crystalizing in her. Veronica's pain (because yes she did have a fucked up childhood, doesn't excuse any of her abuse but it does put it into perspective: it shaped her and she literally is passing the pain down) passing onto her children, Georgine's pain passing onto Sylvester, Sylvester's fears and Florencia's all reaching, reaching, reaching down until it got to her. Many people were affected by this chain reaction, undeniably, but in my opinion Charlotte is the point on the map where all these lines converge. Veronica took her brother and more than likely ostracized/abused Charlotte as she did Florencia. This made Florencia try to train her to be Aub. There must've been a touch of desperation in that choice. What does it do to a child, when they know they're being raised for a larger purpose? Their reason for existing? To know everything's laid on their shoulders? Sylvester on the flipside declared Wilfried as heir because he didn't want Charlotte to go through the pain his sister went through of being raised all her life to be Aub only to be snatched away, to be allowed to have a more hazard-free life in his eyes. But his approach, even as it stemmed from love (he loves, he loves so much, his love hurts, but this post ain't about him even as I regard him as an honorary girl bc he's hated as much as many other female characters seem to be but I digress), did not help as he is blind to what his children need (his love is deep as the ocean and twice as blind)— he projects onto Charlotte, and that… makes her feel small. Useless. Unworthy. What does it do to a child, to have your entire purpose be snatched from you? To be made to feel like your father does not see you as capable or worthy?

How do you deal with the weight of all these generational chains on your limbs?

How do you deal with the devastation of walls closing in on you?

Well, how do you?

Charlotte definitely has a complicated dynamic with her family members. Even Rozemyne. Especially Rozemyne. We'll… get to that in a bit.

Sylvester neglects her. I don't think that's up for debate. I am among his most ardent defenders (though it mostly stays in DMs since… I'm not convinced it would be received well) and I can freely say this. He neglects Charlotte. I don't think he dislikes Charlotte or prefers Wilfried or anything, but his way of expressing his love is undeniably detrimental to her well-being and antithetical to what she wants and needs. He's projecting his and Georgine's dynamic onto his children, and in trying to prevent animosity and bitterness he creates exactly that. In Charlotte's eyes, her father favors Wilfried way too much and neglects her, who has been desperate for someone, anyone, to acknowledge her.

Charlotte and Florencia as well, they have a fucked up dynamic. Florencia raised her to be pitted against Wilfried. What does that do to a child.

I understand why Florencia did it but it would've fucked Charlotte up!

She was raised for this purpose, by her mother, and said mother just stands by and lets it happen when her father takes her purpose away.

There's something fascinating to be found here. So much more fascinating than whatever AO3/Discord folk try to milk out of Rozemyne-Florencia. Charlotte's sense of obligation probably has a root somewhere in her younger years.

She's not even the center of the conversation when it comes to the subject of Sylvester's parenting. She isn't! She just isn't! Rozemyne is the focus 99% of the time!

He's neglecting her. EVERYONE is. She has nobody in her corner and yet she's expected to support everyone else.

Even though she might even resent Myne (for promising to support her and then Not Doing That) she wouldn't allow herself to feel/express it bc Myne risked her life to save hers.

The guilt! The sense of obligation/gratitude! The resentment!

I think she redirects a lot of what she might feel towards Myne onto Wilfried, a much less complicated recipient. But she still doesn't, can't, express it outwards because... well. Myne. For Myne's sake.

While Myne revels in her adoration, she doesn't care about Charlotte as a person. She has no true allies, her brother and father ignore her, and her sister looks at her without seeing her.

I keep remembering the fanbook tidbit of Charlotte being an ornament to Myne. She doesn't think Charlotte is capable of anything except looking cute and motivating her. If only the story and the fandom acknowledged that… but nope! She's just there to prop up Myne and bash Wilfried.

I don't quite think she's transmasc either. Yes, I know, I said the opposite before but it was me trying to fit in and figure out her character and after giving it much thought… her storyline deals with systemic misogyny, not gender dysphoria. She wants to be acknowledged for what she is, her capabilities, I don't think she's feeling any worse for being regarded as a girl in of itself— and I am of the opinion that it somewhat undersells her struggle and sweeps the misogyny she's facing under a rug via dressing it up with a queer headcanons. At the end of the day though, people are free to have any headcanon or opinion they so wish, and I have no authority over that. Also fyi I'm genderfluid in case someone accuses me of being transphobic.

All in all, I think she's such a fascinating character because she's the nexus at which all these lines all this hurt all this cumulative trauma from so many generations and so many directions converge into a white-hot light. Gabrielle, Leisengang, Veronica (look, she's a villain and I'll never excuse her for basically choking out an entire population, but I think she had a hard childhood that few acknowledge and more try to excuse and justify), Sylvester, Florencia, Georgine…

She had such potential. And what'd she get in canon and fics? Okay this is making me depressed let me move onto the next character on this list:

Detlinde

Ooooh boy, where do I even begin with Detlinde? She's my babygirl she's my blorbo she's everything. She is to me what Ferdinand is to the rest of the fandom. I will defend her every deed to my dying breath.

So I'll start by doing just that.

She's been neglected. Like, seriously. Do you think Georgine genuinely cares for her? Gieselfried? Do you think she has anyone who's truly on her side?

To take an excerpt from a fanbook (people regard them as like, gospel, right?):

Q: Lady Detlinde spins her wheels a lot during tea parties. Is she, by any chance, a bit thick?

A: She doesn't pay as much attention to her words and surroundings as someone her age and with her status probably should. She's not entirely to blame, though. As the third child of her duchy's third wife-and a girl, to boot-she had a half-hearted upbringing and was never expected to amount to much. That's why she's so proud about her mother becoming the first wife and why she always boasts about being Ahrensbach's next aub.

(Credits to @ming-sik for bringing me this fanbook quote, he actually read through the fanbooks at people's recommendation, so! Thank you!)

Children are always more perceptive than people think— they absolutely pick up on the fact that a particular adult doesn't really care or that they might hurt them, it's just that their defense mechanism kicks in to shield them from the fact since having your sole source of protection and guidance hate you is an earth-shattering revelation for a child to confront and acknowledge.

I've seen fics justify this neglect by saying even Georgine gave up on her because she was Just That Dumb or something like that. Which, even if you subscribe to that kind of narrative, it still doesn't make it not abuse. It still doesn't make it not neglect. No child should be abandoned simply because they did poorly in academics. Yes, this goes against AoB's (admittedly ableist) “if you're not of use then you deserve any bad thing that comes your way” theme, goes against YS's standards, but I am my own person with my fully formed morals and worldview, not a Yogurtlander with Yogurtlander morals, and I shall judge characters from my perspective.

(It is also in a similar vein that I dislike the notion that Charlotte's neglect is bad because she's more competent than Wilfried, no child under any circumstance deserves abuse or neglect, in my opinion.

People somehow stop registering abuse as abuse when it's happening to a character they don't like. Detlinde being drugged and likely assaulted is her fault and she's a whore. It's her fault she got discarded and neglected by her parents anyways. Wilfried deserves to be imprisoned in the Ivory Tower. They don't seem to think it's “real” abuse if the victim did something that “justifies” punitive narrative violence, it's just really unpleasant to see.)

With all that context in mind, I think this puts Detlinde's behavior into perspective. Being conveyed to, both explicitly and implicitly, that she is unlovable, she will never amount to anything, she's not wanted, she's not useful, all those things, she copes. She copes by loving herself because no one else would— though she spins it as “they just don't realize how awesome I am because they're too dumb for it”.

Remember what I said about children's defense mechanism kicking in to shield them from the fact since having your sole source of protection and guidance hate you is an earth-shattering revelation for a child to confront and acknowledge? Same principle here.

When people around her, all around her, constantly and routinely imply and convey that she's all these negative things, when they try to shoot down her ideas (you can't tell me her whirling dress and hair was bad, you haven't seen half the historical fashion in our world, the bling, the shine, the detail— any historical hairstyle, southeast asian headdresses of gold studded with gemstones, beetle wings intricately embroidered onto garments, the absolute flair, I find it hard to fault her for wanting something pretty, YS's fashion is so very bland), not listen to her, not guide her, all that, I think her narcissism is not only a predictable kind of trauma response/defense mechanism for her to develop but one could even argue it is virtuously defiant. Whereas Ferdinand chose to embody noble society ideals (don't try to tell me he's some deviant, he's just not), Detlinde stubbornly tries to maintain an ironclad grasp on what she feels is true to her.

I do not want to hear any of you come to tell me that Detlinde sucks, actually, because I've had to sit and watch as the entire fandom trashes on her and insults her and calls her a whore— if there's anything all three branches of the AoB fandom (reddit, discord, tumblr) agree on, it's that Detlinde deserves to be hated. I have had to live with y'all's vitriol all this time, don't bring this onto the sole post in the entire internet that sympathizes with her. Good? Good.

How am I to sympathize with a grown man over a fifteen-year-old girl who didn't even want the marriage in the first place? How am I to sympathize with a twenty-something man who is such a shitheel to her in every regard, manipulates her with the intention to have her dead eventually? She was so happy. She didn't want the marriage at first but she was so happy to have someone who seemed to appreciate her. Isn't that sad?

Detlinde is the Atlas holding up the sky of her entire self. No one else will do it for her, so she must. All alone.

She's such an interesting character to me. Too bad Kazuki hates girls/women and children and Detlinde is clearly written to be a shallow, hateable villain. And the fandom? Completely fell for that! Not a single soul besides @ming-sik and I refused to regard her as a fucking demon.

I love her because she's defiantly confident. A crystal flower in a collapsing cave. So dazzling, so beautiful because of it.

Uhhhhh how to end this section— okay let's do a quick-fire round of other shit I like about her:

She's pretty. Like super, super pretty. Shame people constantly give her shit for resembling Veronica.

She's funny. She's so fucking funny. Among the most amusing characters to me for sure.

HER BLING. I know people like to make fun of her fashion but! Her whirling fashion didn't even look bad to me! Also she has my single most favorite adult updo style. It's so elegant and pretty.

She's silly. I guess this also falls under the funny umbrella but she's such a silly goose I love her.

She's just a normal girl. She likes pretty things and plushies and is bad at school. She'd KILL it in a modern setting. I can so easily picture her at a cafe or an arcade. She wasn't born for YS she was meant to be somewhere happier!! Tragic!

She forces the AoB fandom to think about a woman at any cost. They can't get her out of their heads. So many fics exist just to bash her. Someone even made up OCs just so they could write more Detlinde bashing. Feminist queen.

Now to move onto another funny character who might have some surprising depth:

Hirschur

She's such a mood. She's my silly goose. She doesn't care about being proper or whatever. Stay unbound, queen.

Hirschur is so interesting (and endearing) to me because she isn't someone who gives a shit about societal conventions. She's quite un-noble-like for a noble lady. She's kind. She's eccentric. She would stand against the world for her students. The ones who have nowhere else to go. One would think Ferdinand would see her as his savior or a parental figure considering she did practically raise him (as he stayed in the RA all year long instead of going back home) and he just ghosts her as soon as he graduates. Hirschur takes in Raimund and Ferdinand has the audacity to get pissy about it. Dude. SHE'S JUST DOING AS SHE'S ALWAYS DONE.

She helps people! That's what she does! Hirschur spins it as for selfish reasons or bc of her whims but the truth is that she is just kind. I don't think it's a coincidence at all that both students she took under her wing as personal apprentices had no one else to turn to. She frames it as “picking out interesting/promising students” but the fact remains that she shields outcasts from the rest of the world. Heck, she tells Sylvester to keep not supporting her so that she isn't beholden to the archduke to choose who she's allowed to help! She! Doesn't give a shit! About politics!

Hirschur's isolation is way more compelling because she USES it to help people and clearly conflicts with noble expectations of faction politics. She ain't got no time for this faction politics nonsense she's got research to do and students to help!

She's actually eccentric too. She's actually an interesting freak. Her eccentricity puts her in a position where she doesn't really rely on people's approval of her or her choices. She does what she wants and if you get hissy and pissy about it then that's a you problem. She's willing to accept a massive drop in her resources (FOR research at that, she's fucking poor) because it means she doesn't have to isolate a kid with no other options.

It baffles me and honestly kinda irritates me that she's not appreciated enough, not by the characters, not by the fandom. Ppl make such a big deal about Ferdinand seeing parents go to hell and back for their children and it doing smth to him but... he's experienced that. He received that. Hirschur stood against the world for him. While he's having his pity party trying to cure Myne's amnesia, he only flashes back to his father Adelbert. Dude. STOP THINKING ABOUT THE SPERM DONOR THAT LET THE ABUSE HAPPEN, THINK ABOUT THE WOMAN THAT PROTECTED YOU. Like Ferdinand, what about all the other people in your life. There are so many people who love you, why do you not care???? In hindsight, him acting like a poor unfortunate abandoned soul in the temple is just insulting. He says all of “us” were abandoned to Myne but he wasn't abandoned. He's only in here because his brother is clumsily but genuinely trying to protect him and he ghosted his support network. Sylvester's attempt was misguided and he was trying to say “You're capable and I trust you and you have a place by my side, please stay by my side” by giving him work. He was trying to— okay I'll stop now this post isn't about Ferdinand and Sylvester it just makes me fucking mad the way Ferdinand acts. Ferdinand, my guy, you want family? WHAT ABOUT THE WOMAN THAT STOOD AGAINST THE WORLD TO MENTOR YOU?????????? Hirschur helped him well enough that he was happy and “having the time of his life” during his RA years. She worked so hard for that boy and for what.

She's just. Unappreciated.

But then again a female character having the fandom's attention might not be a good idea since somehow someone will eventually find a way to demonize her too.

Anyhow her eccentric brand of kindness is much more interesting and infinitely more compelling than Ferdinand's “hard-to-understand-kindness”. He isn't kind, he's just mean.

Hirschur never even told Ferdinand that Veronica was cutting her off for sheltering Ferdinand. Because that's the choice she made and she stands by it and that's not her student's problem. She probably didn't want him to feel guilty.

ALSO another disclaimer because I know this fandom too well: I will neither entertain nor respond to any commentary on this post that pertains to Ferdinand because I just know people are going to derail the entire conversation and center the discussion around justifying this golden boy on a post meant to spark a discussion about female characters that never get discussed at length. Do not comment or reblog saying Ferdinand isn't bad actually because blah blah blah reason. We have had to read y'all's extensive Ferdinand posting all this time. Everyone talks about Ferdinand and not about any of the female characters to the same extent. Keep that blue thing off this post. You can bear for things to not be about him for once. Okay? Okay.

Other reasons I like her:

She's funny. She's so funny. She's so entertaining.

She's adaptable and open-minded. When she saw Myne's PandaBus she went “oh! makes sense!” and immediately adapts it into something that makes sense to her. This is in contrast against Ferdinand who despite being a “genius innovator” only ever acts like a stick-in-the-mud-with-no-imagination.

I've said this before but she doesn't conform. She's proudly eccentric.

Everything people like about Ferdinand is actually true about Hirschur, in my opinion. Her kindness is disguised but she does have a heart of gold, she's ostracized and poor, she's a genius, she's unhinged and eccentric, she doesn't conform, she's even aro coded.

Again, do not try to defend Ferdinand on this post, we've had to live with people misinterpreting and bashing and insulting our faves (if they don't outright ignore them) all this time, I'm not even calling Ferdinand anything on the level of “whore” or “homewrecker”. Deal with it.

And now we move onto the next girl— last but not least is:

Delia

She's so tragic. Her entire situation is so tragic. How do people hate this girl I'm gonna cry.

First of all, she's a victim of grooming and manipulation— and she is a child. She is, what, eight years old? when she first appears.

Just wanted to establish that right off since I don't think even Myne sees her as a child.

She was being actively manipulated and used by the primary adult figures in her life, she views becoming a mistress as a good fate because at least she won't be starving and surrounded by death in the dark. She was “rescued” because she was pretty. Of course she'd cling onto that!

She doesn't understand what a “family” is because she's never had one and she was never raised with love. She asks Myne, “Are things like family really all that great? I never really understood what a family is.” and Myne replies “It's where I belong. It's the one place where I feel the most at ease.” and yeah! That's an honest and genuine answer! It gives Delia much to think about, and being raised in the Temple with no love… what else would she assume but “No matter how well I serve you, you'll end up leaving me anyway. Right, Sister Myne?”

This is a situation in which neither of them are at fault— Delia asked, so Myne answered honestly, and Delia… yeah. Why wouldn't she assume that. Why wouldn't she want to turn to the “certainty” she's familiar with, rather than give her heart to someone who'll leave her anyways? With Dirk she finally understands love, finally understands what family is, and she's so desperately terrified of losing this, the one unambiguously good thing in her life that doesn't have complicated stuff attached to it. Why wouldn't she try to protect it, protect him? Why wouldn't she want to be with him all throughout? And Ferdinand and Myne, they deliberately keep shit from her! They deceive her and make it seem like they're ripping her little brother from her for no reason, of course she feels cornered and threatened! And remember what I said about certainty vs the unknown? Thinking (well, knowing, really, because was she wrong at all?) Myne would leave her no matter what she does, thinking Myne would never trust or prioritize her (I mean, she didn't, Delia never got to exit the Temple w Myne like Fran and Gil did), and Bezewanst (the one who “saved” her) promises her that he'd not only find a better future for Dirk but also allow her to be with him? What's a young desperate child gonna do? Maybe if somebody had properly communicated with her, this wouldn't have happened.

And then she gets trapped in the place she feared anyways, never allowed to leave (she never got to leave the Temple in the first place).

And then her brother gets torn from her anyways.

They just trap her there forever. She never gets to be anywhere or go anywhere.

And I'm just… supposed to be fine with that?

Yeah, yeah, mercy, mercy, blah blah blah, I wish Myne would've planned for this to be temporary and not forever unto Delia's death. But nope! Myne never retracts her decision ever! Like hell Sylvester would've known what Delia's worst fear was, she could've just lied.

ANOTHER disclaimer: my god please do NOT come at me with justifications on why Delia's fate was fine and warranted, actually. I have seen fandom discussions and such justify it to hell and back and some even say Myne should've just let her die. If you're one of the people who think Delia deserved it, GO AWAY.

The way many people talk about her, if they talk about her at all, makes me think they genuinely do not recognize that her situation is fucked, that CSA and grooming are harmful at all. So there was once this fic I read. In the dedicated discussion space for that fic, both author and audience alike were like: “she's so dumb for wanting to be a mistress she doesn't know what reality is she just thinks it's easy glamorous work so we should traumatize her to teach her a lesson about reality but also to punish her for ‘having caused the attack on Myne in canon’ as well we're so smart” via making her watch a woman in labor. Which she of course got traumatized by.

Way to miss the point.

Way to miss the fucking point.

She's so desperate to be a mistress not because she thinks it's glamorous work but because she's terrified of being trapped in a place that neglected and starved her! It's a desperation for survival! It's a trauma response! Gods above, people are incapable of sympathizing with children (especially if they're girls) in this fandom and series.

Delia is… well. She's such a tragic character. Her wanting desperately to be saved from something that she also thinks is completely normal is… it's interesting. It's heartbreaking. I must sound like a broken record by now. Her upbringing and trauma actually informs the actions she takes, and she gets to have an effect on other characters! Her choices aren't without consequence, and that makes her interesting unlike a certain blue someone whose dickishness doesn't affect anything negatively ever. People in this fandom act as though trauma and its effects are only limited to affect dumb people. (A la someone saying trauma can't be the root of a certain character's dickishness bc it's “too sentimental” for that character, ignoring how trauma is illogical and affects you in ways you might not even notice). People insinuate she's dumb and had it coming. It's just so exhausting and disheartening to see. Thankfully, tumblr folk don't talk like that, because they don't talk about her at all. Nor about any other female character to the extent everyone talks about Ferdinand. I swear to god he's the only thing anyone ever talks about.

So yeah! Four female characters I find most compelling. Probably not anyone's pick, except Charlotte though she isn't talked about and explored in-depth to the same extent as a certain other character is. She just gets mentioned as being better than Wilfried and it's all done, no need to talk about everything else about her. I hope this post was able to give a new perspective to people who might not have considered thinking this much about these characters! Pretty please do keep negativity about them off this post, I do not need to know you want to put twenty bullets through Detlinde's body or whatever.

[wordsbymae]

King of the Outlaws (Alwyn) Alphabet 18+

Hey everyone! Hope your weekend was lovely! I'm planning on doing part 2 for Alwyn and the reader but in the meantime, while I watch a documentary, I thought I should write up his alphabet. Alwyn is a clear fan favourite so I hope this lives up to the hype.

Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. The yandere aplhabet is not mine!

TW: This one is gonna be pure filth. Fem!reader, insecurities, insecure thoughts, smut, implied murder and violence, implied corruption kink, reader has got big boobies :), term whores used as a historical term, oral sex. Please use discretion!!!

Minors turn away now, please!

Let's get into it!

Part 1

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I think I have a thing for strong, beefy, tough, rough and somewhat aggressive yanderes being kinda dumb and just so in love with their darlings. Cause this man is all that and more. He is still cunning and witty, being able to plan the perfect heist or the perfect kidnapping. He is an expert manipulator, liar and pickpocket. He can run across rooftops like it's nothing and can outrun any guard after him. He's vicious with his daggers, silently assassinating anyone who is in his way and he is an expert swordsman (not in the way he knows the names of the moves just in the way he knows how to kill someone quickly and cleanly). But!!!!!! he just becomes this dumb, obsessed puppy whenever you're around.

Above I said he was an expert at kidnapping people. Yet, he failed every single time when he tried to take you and you had no clue. He would get distracted when he was meant to steal you cause the way the sun hit your hair made you look like you had a halo and he just forgot he was meant to yank you away. Or his men were meant to do it but at the last minute, he thought they would hurt you so he just tackles them when they go to do it. Also, he could have very easily stolen you from your room (despite what he said) but he would get stuck just lovingly staring at you from the tree he was meant to use as a ladder to your balcony. By the end of the week his men know he doesn't want to kidnap you for ransom and that he's obsessed with you instead, I see them encouraging him and trying to lift his mood, coming up with plans like "we can kidnap her father and threaten to kill him if she doesn't marry you" or " what if we threaten a noble to ask for her hand and at the last minute we swap you at the altar". he just groans and lays his head in his arms. He thinks he's never going to marry you and each mug of ale makes him think that the first plan isn't too bad at all. Until it's announced any man, noble or not, can ask for your hand as long as they can afford your bride price. To him, it's the ultimate jackpot. If he is able to get enough money (easy for him) he can marry you the honest way, and he can kid himself into believing you wanted him.

If people thought he was violent before it was nothing compared to the bloodshed he caused during that week. He went absolutely feral, robbing every single wagon, caravan and traveller who was stupid enough to journey through his woods. He does not care at all about the suffering he's causing (he used to let some people go, but now he's killing anyone who even thinks of hesitating to give up their coins) he is just thinking of you, sweet, beautiful you. I'm not gonna lie and say that his thoughts of you before he got betrothed to you were wholesome and pure. This man is a slut in the fullest meaning of the word. His thoughts of you are 90% centred around sex. He hasn't seen you naked yet (that happens the week before the wedding when he's hiding under your bed as you change) but he doesn't need to. He's more than happy to imagine you kneeling in front of him in that pretty blue dress of yours, your tits practically spilling out from the fabric and you're just looking up at him with those innocent eyes. he can only hope you would need him to help you through it. That you would need him to instruct you to unbuckle his belt and to edge his pants down and take out his cock. he could only hope you would whimper at the sight of it and look to him for guidance. That he would get to praise you as you would begin to leave soft kisses on its head before hesitantly taking it in your warm mouth.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

He was so cocky when he got the money, he didn't even think your father would refuse, so yeah he just waltzed into the castle and demanded to be seen by your father and even got some of his men to keep the guards happy (by fighting them all). He's then ripping open the doors, throwing the money on the table, falling into the chair in front of your father and begins discussing what colour theme he wants for the wedding (but he's happy to let you pick). The thing is he had no idea that you had made a deal with your father. He had no idea that your father was forced to say yes to him (always a man of his word), he really just thought your father was impressed with him. I think he gets quite sad to find out your father didn't say yes because he was blown away by his charming personality and good looks. You might have to reassure him and sook him for a few days.

All in all, to anyone else he is not a nice person, charming and slightly whimsical yes, but still an outlaw that would happily slit a man's throat if it could him a penny. To you? He is the sweetest man alive, constantly wanting to touch you and talk to you and do things for you. he is the ultimate dream man.

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Since he didn't 'abduct' the reader, just replace the abduction with forcibly married.

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

To him love is sex, but sex isn't love. The only intimacy he has ever had with women is through sex, and while he was never in love with them, it is the only way he really knows how to show his affection. He wants to prove to you his love through physical touch. Not only that but he is obsessed with your body as well, very much on his knees kissing your ankles sort of stuff and worshipping you. He is always trying to get up your skirts, constantly touching you and trying to convince you to have sex, anywhere and everywhere (he tried to convince you to do it while riding once, you thought it was a joke and he had to awkwardly pretend it was too). H

e is very possessive as well but he is a bit of a strange one, he wants to show everyone who you belong to, so he will try to fuck you in front of his men. He is more than happy to talk about your body and your sex life to them and will only stop if it makes you visually uncomfortable. but it is a fantasy of his to just take you on the large table in the planning room. You on your back, legs open wide, just cock drunk as he thrusts into you, showing you off to everyone. He will keep your dress on though and will probably kill any guy who seems to be enjoying themselves too much, but his ultimate fantasy is making sure everyone knows who you belong to and how much you love getting fucked by him.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to you?)

He was willing to kill anybody and everybody to get the money to marry you so yeah bloody. But very cruel as well. Tortue sort of stuff. he takes pleasure in killing and he is very good at it. i do see him being very quick with his killings, you have to be when assinating or during a robbery, but when it comes to you and someone tries to steal you from him or worse, your father tries to send men to 'rescue' you, he is going to be very cruel. blood and screams everywhere. just so they know not to fuck around with him. he also wants you to know that he is willing to do that for you and will encourage you to watch, instead, you very understandable run out of the screaming either crying or very anger at him. he just goes to find you arms open wide, blood everywhere trying to hug you. You would be the most mad if it was your father's men and i see him getting a bit frustrated because hes trying to prove to you how much he loves you and you dont understand.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat you once abducted? Would they mock you?)

he is very sweet to you in his own way. he won't be cruel deliberately but as we've seen he doesn't think before he says things or even does things. hell call you things he thinks are cute (like heifer, goose or whore) and even be a bit forceful (throwing on the bed, picking you up, not letting you outside the woods, etc), or even does things that the reader is uncomfortable with, (making her sit on his lap in front of other, touching her stomach, asking for her to sit on his face, putting his hand up readers skirt in front of his men and making her come in front of them, bragging to his men he has the prettiest princess and that they can only dream of a cunt like hers) but he never goes out of his way to be cruel or to mock. especially during sex or when you're opening up to him. Some people like being called mean things during sex but not this reader, this reader needs lots of support so being called a slut or whore or a dirty girl during sex will probably lead to some tears or anger. she doesn't see herself like that and would hate for him to see her like that. he thinks those names are 'cute' but learned very quickly to not call her them unless he wanted a broom to the dick.

on the other hand, he is very quick to reassure the reader and support her. at the time of writing this I haven't written part 2 but he has had a little insight into her own self-esteem and he can see it isn't very strong, so he will be quick to notice body checking or disinterest in food or staring too long at some of the leaner women that run with his crew. hell shut those down real quick, but sometimes the reader doesn't show any signs until she's hiding away crying, but because he's obsessed with you, you don't get a lot of time alone so he knows very quickly when that happens and is quick to help ease things.

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against your will?)

This one is tricky because I don't plan on the reader being opposed to him, I mean (and this going to sound bad) the reader was so desperate for someone to love her and for someone to desire her (whether they liked her personality as well or not) that when he started to show romantic (but mostly sexual) interest in her she was so happy and relieved someone (anyone) liked her that she was like well ok cool I guess I'm married to this guy then. and yes she does actually fall in love with him (he's been in love obsessed since the first sight). what I'm trying to say is that the reader very rarely says no. I mean look at their first sexual encounter, she never out rightly says no (even though the absence of a no doesn't mean yes) she doesn't actively struggle nor fight back with the intent to cause immense damage or to run away, she is happy to let him show his desire for her when he reassures her he is actually attracted to her and not just pretending to be.

So he never has had to force the reader to do anything, while she might protest a little ( and depending on his mood will drop it or continue pushing) but if he continues to push she is happy to let him. also as their relationship develops he's less likely to push things as the reader's confidence has grown and he doesn't want to get hit with a broom. But if she had fought him since the wedding? actually, try to hurt him and say nasty things or try to flee when they stopped for breaks on the way to the woods and really tried to fight him in his bedroom? I'll leave it up to your imagination but he's never been told no before.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to you? How vulnerable are they when it comes to you?)

he will tell you everything, and it'll be the oddest secret and timing as well. He'll be fucking you from behind, hands gripping your hips and deep moans and high-pitched whines filling the room as you feel his heavy balls thud against your clit, and then he's grunting out how this reminds him of the turkey he once stole from a farmer back in the day and how he got into a fight with the turkey and how the turkey won and then how they become best buds until he got hungry and killed it for dinner. You have no idea how it reminds him but you really don't want to know.

also, he'll whisper to you in the middle of the night when he doesn't think you're awake that he doesn't think he's good enough for you, the bastard so of a lowly knight married to a lady. he talks of how he is terrified some lord is going to catch a glimpse of you and steal you away from him or worse you'll freely go. its the only time you've ever been scared of your husband when he whispers how he will never ever let you go and if you try to leave he will butcher your father's people before stringing your family along the castle walls, then he'll find whoever you runaway with, watch as he disembowels them and then how he'll fuck you next to their corpse. he says all this before kissing your head and going back to sleep. he still thinks you're asleep while you're there thinking how lucky you are to actually love this man and that you want to stay with him, for your family's sake.

F = Fight (How would they feel if you fought back?)

ahhh reader never actually fights back with the intent to hurt or escape so I don't really have a plan for this.

I said before that if the reader from the get-go was rude, and mean, fought him to hurt him and objected to his charms for sex he would not like that at all, but I'm taking this one from our reader's actions, not a hypothetical reader. I think this reader would only play fight or pretend fight like half mad half joking, and boy would he love it. he has spent his whole sexual adulthood fucking whores, whom he didn't really have any affection for.

don't get me wrong he was kind to them but he still took what he wanted without caring for their pleasure (i gotta humble you guys he's a man from a historical time period do you really think he knows where the clit is, or that it even existed?), he would go rough and fast chasing his own pleasure like a greyhound after a rabbit. but with you, he changes tactics, at first he planned on rolling you onto your hands and knees, flipping up your skirt and just driving his cock in, but then you got all sad and sappy and he got a bit affectionate so he was a bit gentle and slow and actually tried to get you off.

but he still is a man who likes it rough and fast so when you start to play fight with him, he is imagining pulling you down onto his cock while he lays on his back, hands tight on your hips as he harshly bounces you on his throbbing member. he would love to watch your tits bounce and he would love to tease your hardening nipples as he praised you for being his dirty little slut (first (and only) time he called you that you slapped him- you were born a lady so you got pretty mad) who just couldn't go one day without his big fat cock driving in and out of your cunt. you on the other hand are just having an innocent play fight over the last date biscuit.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching you try to escape?)

he is a very jolly sort of person who would enjoy making sex a game. since the reader never plans on leaving and honestly doesn't see anything wrong with her husband or the shrine he has of her in the back room, he also thinks there's nothing wrong with threatening to kill her family if she ever left (even if she was 'asleep' when he said it). so while he is silly and a bit ridiculous it isn't a game to him, instead its the life he's always wanted ( a pretty woman sitting on his cock while he sucks on her nipples)

H = Hell (What would be your worst experience with them?)

when he says he has a surprise to show you and it's a half-dead man tied to a chair that you barely realise is the man who grabbed your arse in the marketplace. he'll use this as a good reason why not to leave the woods without him.

you had hoped for a puppy

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/with you?)

he is a simple man. you on your knees wearing nothing but jewels he stole for you, mouth open wide, tongue out, eyes begging for his cock while he pats your head and calls you his good girl.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

yes, he does get very jealous and he most definitely lashes out. but it's almost always his fault. he'll be the one to fuck you in front of his men, he'll be the one to sit you on his lap as his fingers fill you up while his men watch with greedy eyes, he'll be the one to brag about how sweet and supple your breasts are and how glorious they look with his seed spread out over them. So what was he expecting when a few of his men's hands wander to their own members when you walk past or a few greenhorns who don't know not to touch get a bit close and daring after listening to your loud moans all night. he gets very angry and very bloody. and hes down a few crew mates after that.

K = Kisses (How do they act around you?)

like he'll starve without touching you.

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching you?)

courting? he didn't even give you a choice in marrying him, there was no courting. unless you count him following you everywhere and listening to your pleasure yourself as he hid in your closet the week before the wedding, he does.

M = Mask (Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

yes, but if anything, everyone else gets the real him, cruel, violent, rough and a real killer, while you get the sweet, kind and charming him.

N = Naughty (How would they punish you?)

sex but in a fun way. like I said reader is more than happy to stay where she is so she never fights him on anything but he may 'punish' you if you decide to tease him or if you have been a bit cruel to yourself. he will either make you sit in front of a mirror as he fingers you and makes you repeat kind things about your body after him or he will edge you until you apologise for giving him blue balls.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from you?)

none, except freedom of going somewhere and not being followed by a killing machine puppy.

P = Patience (How patient are they with you?)

very, we saw that in their first real conversation when the reader kept turning her head and he kept missing her cheek. while he was frustrated he was still very patient and would have allowed the same thing to happen a few more times by finally holding your face still. unless your teasing him with your tits, as long as you don't bend over in front of him and show him how hard your nipples are from him right now, you could do anything and he would wait patiently, so yeah teasing sex is a no go but telling him long-winded stories or getting a bit mad at him and giving him the silent treatment, he won't snap or anything

Q = Quit (If you die, leave, or successfully escape, would they ever be able to move on?)

hahaha, all the woods burnt down, and your family castle in ruins.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting you? Would they ever let you go?)

no.

if anything he might feel like he's not good enough but hell be damned before some lily-livered lord tries to worm his way between your legs. he might not be good enough but neither is anyone else. so no not really and no never ever letting you go.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them [childhood, curiosity, etc]?)

just who he is really, I know some yanderes can have multiple darlings over their lifetime or whatever but he never had this side of him till he fell in love with you. I think its' really true love. but he also loves the idea of possessing something that nobody like him ever could imagine processing, an outlaw marrying a noblewoman. it's like the peasant boy's dream to have a lady begging for their cock, he's corrupting this woman who is so much better than him with his lowly peasant seed.

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing you scream, cry, and/or isolate yourself?)

he would feel terrible, mainly since he made you cry by calling you his pretty heifer.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

ahh nothing I can think of.

V = Vice (What weakness can you exploit in order to escape?)

his lust but come on why would you want to leave him?

W = Wit’s end (Would they ever physically hurt you?)

no no no no no, only in play or in sex and always if you allow it. hypothetical reader? yes

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship you? To what length would they go to win you over?)

he adores you, he's on his knees worshipping every inch of skin he touches. he killed people for you so yeah he would go to very long, very bloody lengths for you.

Y = (How long do they pine after you before they snap?)

he saw you and then very quickly decided he wanted to keep you forever, so really as soon as he heard you make a funny joke about dogs

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break you?)

no, can't break what is freely given to you.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

so glad you got a tumblr couth 🥰 ik you said something about wanting to take ask requests on here, so do you have any smut damian hcs?? :D

I'm guessing you just mean general hcs, so here are the ones I think about most when I write:

at first, Damian has no experience, doesn't want experience, and overall imagines sex as a form of manipulation or conquest. his thoughts on sex are initially unhealthy, but with enough time around good examples like his s/o, those thoughts start to change.

there's bragging. lots of bragging. before Damian even has sex he fucking brags about being good at it, bc he's stupid like that. but to his credit, Damian does know human anatomy so well that he can nerve strike ppl... which means... he definitely doesn't get lost yk 😳 I don't think he brags to ppl he's not comfortable with. He's definitely more of the type to be like, "Of course I'm proficient—pleasuring a woman is mind-numbingly simple."

(if he can think of 980 ways to kill someone w his bare hands then he's has to know at least 20 ways to pleasure them. right?)

when Damian does find the right person to begin with, I think of it two ways:

1. if they're more experienced than him, he'll complain a lot, but he desperately wants to perform well and ends up listening to all (most) of their commands. he talks himself up a lot, but underneath all that he's nothing but soft and nervous. there's not much that Damian isn't skilled in, so he's extra aware of where his failings are. he lets you touch him first. but even if you know more than him, he makes a point to remind you that he's a very, very quick learner. your experience is quickly matched. all he needs is a moment to muster himself, then it'll be your turn on the bottom ;)

2. if his partner has the same amount of practice as Damian does, he will take initiative. he will treat it like a science experiment in the most literal sense, documenting your reactions to his every touch, trying to measure what you like the most. maybe he'll ask to undress you, just so he can marvel at you up close. Damian is a total control freak, too. he wants to be on top, wants to control the pace. every social part is new to him, more so than it would be for a normal person, which leaves him feeling unprepared and nervous. it's when you're pressed close together that those feelings start to loosen. not even he can be truly prepared for the first time, and since his life is so ruled by preparation and the future, that sense of timelessness is really pleasant. he doesn't have to be good the first time, because it's not a test.

(but... he is good. very good. he's not too gentle, but still sweet, giving you time to breathe and kissing your nose ridge when you hiss at his stretch. Damian has never been this close to someone before - he secretly adores it).

i don't see him thinking much about himself until after the first time - his happiness almost comes as a sort of side effect of sex, not a deliberate product. Damian is the grave opposite of selfish (he's not at all kind to himself), so he thinks of himself more as a tool in the process to pleasure you. his mouth is for you, his hands are for you, and his dick is definitely for you too.

after further practice, his s/o kind of trains him to want it for himself. Damian does want to fuck you (desperately), his brain is just programmed to shut away any good feeling. every time he lusted after you, admired you in a sexual way, or thought about you dirtily, his mind just didn't take it.

but when he experiences sex for the first time, it shocks him how intimate and romantic it can be. this whole time, he figured it was more of a mechanical process that ppl pretended was good to make themselves feel better. but Damian's first time is fucking awesome.

it's very healing for him. once Damian realizes that it's a good thing, he fixates on it. he reads articles and books about sex, he makes sure you have it around two times a week (his research suggests that this is the best for a couple of your standard), he mixes it up each time so you don't get bored of each other. it's the total opposite of killing, so Damian pledges a piece of his soul to it.

on accident, he becomes a sex god.

in some versions of canon he's been genetically modified from birth to be "perfect" (in the human-made sense), so his endurance is insane. for this reason I hc him as being very big, which only makes him more of an asshole when it comes to bragging. now, he can actually back it up.

his favorite place is the shower, because of the easy access, the cleanup, and the blatant romantics of it. your hair is slicked to the back of your necks and water runs down your faces as you kiss, like you're dancing in the rain at the end of a romance film. he gets to undress you. he gets to run his fingers through your hair. his shower faces the mirror, so he can make love to you against the glass with a great view. and the soap - fuck, the soap. if he's lucky, you'll let him do the cleaning, so Damian can caress and stroke the white, foamy bubbles down your chest and belly... if you're not joining him in the shower, it's definitely something he thinks about. in detail. with his cock in hand.

alternatively, the couch (because any sitting sex position drives him wild), counters, desks, poolside or in nature. you've never survived a picnic with him.

in general, Damian seems like a cranky partner, but it only takes him a few minutes to start moaning like he means it. he would rather be romantic and slow, giving you his cock inch by inch, than fuck you rough. but he's not opposed to a little bruising.

he's definitely not opposed to oral. in fact, it's his speciality. Damian opens and closes the session with his tongue inside you, and often uses it as a destressor. He's very "hard working."

it takes him a while to work up to a blowjob, but admittedly, he loves the dark feelings he gets from it. Damian loves to see you on your knees. when you hold him in your mouth, the temptation to choke his dick further into your throat is killer. he loves how you gasp for breath once he releases you, chest heaving, his cum drooling from your lips. he loves when you blink up at him all dizzy, when you call him pretty names.

I hc he has a very subtle mommy kink, doesn't mind a little bondage or knife play, loves lingerie or you in his clothes, and would probably die happy if you choked him with your thighs.

he'll fuck you for genuine hours, all he wants in return is some cleanliness. you lay down a towel, you keep a bowl of hot water nearby, and he'll go crazy on you.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Hi!! I have a request for hc’s! I just read your “what their biggest kinks are”, and I was wondering if you could make a part 2 with Deku, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Mirio? Thank you and I love your writing!!

MHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks PT. 2

No worries, buddy! Here you go!!! I’m so glad you like my writing!! I’m really happy to be getting requests!

I hope you enjoy this, Anon!

I struggled a little with Kirishima, so huge thanks to my bestie @smolchildfangirl for helping me out with this

PT. 1 Here

PT 3 Here

Genre: smutty smut

Warnings: BDSM Kinks, hard kinks, weird kinks

Other: this was in the making before the request, but I was planning to put Aizawa in instead of Mirio. I am now moving Aizawa to another post

Characters: Deku, Kirishima, Mirio, Todoroki + a bonus character

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy

Izuku Midoriya/ Deku

Switch- Listen, he’s more of a bottom most of the time but he has nothing against topping, he will top if you ask nicely. But baby boy needs to be taken care of, he’s always thinking about others so this is his time when he’s the one being though of.

Roleplay- specifically hero/civilian. This works when he’s topping or bottoming. Hero saves a sweet civilian, who wants to thank the hero. It’s always better when whoever plays the civilian is a fan of the hero, he just finds it so hot. He’ll also indulge in hero/villain, and enjoys that one a lot too.

Praise/ Body Worship- he needs you to know how special you are to him, how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. He also needs to be reassured he’s doing a good job, and that you feel just as good as him.

Vanilla- sex with him is usually very vanilla, and often times awkward. Like the time you farted while fucking him. You froze, then both of you started laughing and he said it was okay to keep going. Sometimes you guys just have normal conversations while having sex. it’s kind of adorable how embarrassed he gets when you’re so casual about it.

Wax Play- this is the kinkiest he is, and it’s more for you than for him. He loves seeing the colorful wax drip off your body, and how you hiss in pain and pleasure. He always chooses colors that compliment your eyes, skin, or hair. He might take pictures of it and claim it to be art. Don’t worry, he’d never show anyone without your permission.

Bondage- this is more for him than for you. He doesn’t know why, but being restrained and helpless kind of turns him on. Especially if you’re role playing hero/villain or villain/civilian and you’re the villain who’s toying with the poor failed hero or innocent victim.

Eijiro Kirishima/ Red Riot

Soft Dom- this man is so respectful, and so scared of hurting you. He’d be so gentle and sweet to you. Expect lots of praise and soft kisses as he fucks up into you. He’s so gentle with your body, like you’re made of glass.

Voyeurism- He loves watching you, in any kind of sense. Found out about his kink when you left the bathroom door open as you showered. He came into your dorm to study and couldn’t find you. Peeked in the bathroom and boom- instant boner

Underwear- he’s kind of a pervert and will steal your dirty underwear and press it against his face to smell you as he jerks off. Don’t be surprised if your underwear goes missing and then you find it a few days later.... in his room.

Edging- he loves to tease you. This is usually used as a punishment when he’s mad at you. He’ll bring you right to the ends of an orgasm then pull away, laughing you when you whine and cry for release.

Hair Pulling- this is more for him, it shows him that you feel so good with him fucking you that you lose yourself and just grasp at whatever you can. It’s so hot to him.

Quirk Play- He was a little reluctant to do this at first, but after he tried using his quirk on his dick, he realized that it would be so fucking hot. His dick gets harder and tougher, please don’t try and jerk him off it’s like jerking off a pole. He gains an inch in length and diameter. Hard hard mini-Kiri will have you screaming.

Mirio Togata/ Lemillion

Praise/ Body Worship- this man is so sweet- you really expect him to degrade you? No no never. You’re his sweet, precious, baby, and he needs you to understand that he loves you with all his heart and needs to make you feel good. Your body is a temple, and he is but a humble worshipper.

Creampies- he loves filling you up with his cum, then holds your legs up so he can watch it drip out of you. Even better if you let him eat it out of you. His favorite thing to do is rub your belly after he cums in you.

Cuckholding- he’d only want to do this with Tamaki or Nejire, where two of you fuck and the other has to watch. He’d fuck you in front of them or them in front of you, or the two of you would fuck and he’d be watching.

Threesomes- is there anything better than not participating? Yes. Participating. Send post. Also he’s a fuckboy so he’ll be asking for someone different to have sex with both of you every week. It’ll definitely get annoying.

Quirk Play- you really think he hasn’t done that porn trope of sticking his dick through the shower wall for a blow-job? And I’m sure he’s had you in his lap and fucked you through both of your clothes.

Humiliation- he loves to embarrass you. Whether it’s by saying something super lewd, making you look at where he’s fucking you, moving your face to make eye-contact with him, or just teasing you.

Recording/ Porn- he takes lots of pictures and videos of you during sex. Keeps them or personal use and to show you. Expect to get fingered as you both watch you suck his dick on his phone.

Shoto Todoroki/ Shoto

Shower Sex- he doesn’t know what it is about it- maybe it’s the trust you have in him to keep you from slipping, maybe it’s the water running down your body, maybe it’s the fact that you’re doing something so dirty in a place meant for cleanliness, he just loves it.

Mirror Sex- he loves to put you in a full Nelson in front of the mirror, tells you how amazing you look. He’ll slow down if you look away or close your eyes. He wants you to see “just how beautiful you looked all fucked out on his cock.” He also wouldn’t mind you jerking him off and making him cum on the mirror.

Soft Sex- he’s very gentle, both physically and verbally. He’s so afraid to hurt you. His favorite position is the lotus position, so you can see each other’s faces and you’re so close to each other. Loves it when you hug him during sex.

Mutual Masterbation- this happened more before you were ready to have sex, and it’s just sweet to him. Getting to touch himself to the sight of you touching yourself. It feels so intimate and vulnerable.

Quirk Play- this is saved for your more... arousing escapades. The little swirls of ice making fractals on your skin looks like art. He will heat up his skin but won’t use fire. Hope you’re cool with him pushing misshapen ice cubes into you or being restrained with huge chunks of ice. He’s sure to help warm you up afterwards.

Breath Play- this is the most kinky he’s going to get. He’s got a small oral fixation so if you choke him gently with your fingers in his mouth- hooh boy you’ve got him literally and figuratively wrapped around your finger. He also feels rather powerful to have his fingers curled around your neck.

Erotica/ Written Porn- this was discovered when you showed him regular Porn and he wasn’t into it. You pulled up an NSFW fanfiction and changed the names to yours and his. A few minutes later he was humping your leg, whining pitifully. The two of you have written erotica and then memorized it, recreating it in the bedroom countless times.

BONUS

Tamaki Amajiki/ Suneater

Shit wrong Tamaki-

There we go

Bottoming- you think this man has the confidence to top? Really? Really? No he’s much better on his knees for you, crying and begging for his master to touch his weeping cock. Poor little subby baby.

Food/ Quirk Play- you need his cock to be bigger? Horse meat, no problem. You want to get fucked by tentacles? He’s got plenty of Takoyaki on hand. He loves it when you poor syrup or honey on yourself and demand he lick it off you.

Degredetion- ever wonder why people who have low self-esteem usually have degrading kinks? Me too. But he has one. He wants to be manhandled into the bed and told what a worthless slut he is. Your little bitch in rut.

Boot Worship- he loves it when you put on combat boots or fancy heels and step on him. He’ll lick and kiss them as if you were a god. He’s very obedient. His favorite thing is when you press your shoe against his hard-on and tell him he doesn’t get to cum unless he really begs for it. Even better when he’s on his knees in front of you and you lift his chin with your foot. He will melt.

Master/Slave- he wants to serve you, he needs to make you feel good. You need to give him orders on how best to please you. Keep him on a leash and drag him to different corners of the room.

[oldschoolfrp]

“More than a door” -- Alan Miller’s random tables for adding special details to dungeon doors, from the “Bazaar of the Bizarre” column of Dragon 41, TSR, September 1980.  Some of these table entries require a little creative interpretation.  Intelligent doors might open if you match alignments, speak a password, answer a riddle, or wear the robes of the cult that rules the dungeon.  A door that “contains treasure” might have a secret compartment revealed if smashed, or simply have gold or silver plated fittings that are tarnished but noticeable upon inspection.

Some sources suggested doors should be found locked 1/3 of the time, and in old dungeons 1/3 might be stuck shut, with only 1/3 opening freely without effort.  Many of the special table entries above assume that the party will have to physically bash open stuck or locked doors fairly often (after the thief fails to pick the lock, the lock is “thiefproof” because no parts are accessible from this side, or the wizard has no knock spells available).

The other obvious results of physically pounding on a door include the chance of breaking the door instead of forcing it open cleanly, and the loud noise that can alert nearby encounters.  This is why I still always make a party roll every STR check to force a door even if the eventual success is inevitable (and I say “BOOM!” after each attempt to remind the players that they aren’t being stealthy).  Extreme number results can mean the door swings open without damage, or is broken down off its hinges, or becomes stuck worse between twisted hinges, lock, and frame.  The number of attempts will determine whether someone on the other side is surprised or has time to surprise the party by flipping a table for cover and leveling their crossbows at the door while sending a runner for help that might circle back around the party to close the ambush.

[tobi-smp]

this is probably the last thing I’m gonna say about this (unless something Else blows up), but I wanna focus on something specific about this situation so if you want something more general then take these: (Link 1, Link 2)

people have addressed the fact that the situation with technoblade can largely be described as twitter taking things that people Could bring to technoblade’s attention to start a conversation that would hopefully educate him into tweaking some of his behavior (like making edgier jokes that use imagery from more serious topics) and delivering it in the form of a deliberate hate campaign mixed with so much vitriol that it is literally impossible for someone on the receiving end of it to take literally any of it in good faith and want to listen.

but what I Haven’t seen people mention is the fact that the things that technoblade is being asked to apologize for here Are Not Created equal. and while some of them are more minor accusations that technoblade could address relatively cleanly, those are Mixed In with serious accusations that are, frankly, Extremely bad faith to the point that it totally changes the nature of the conversation.

this right here?

absolutely Floored me. this is the reason why it took me until now to address this whole situation because I Legitimately could not stomach it anymore when it first started bubbling up.

to lay it out simply: in the wake of george floyd’s death technoblade made a tweet linking to a petition about it captioned with “murder is bad,” as pictured. he later had to delete that tweet because some people interpreted his tone as joking when he hadn’t meant it that way. now, you could certainly argue that it’s possibly a bit too blunt or that his intent would be clearer if he’d gone a bit more in detail, that’s certainly true. what you can Not argue is that this proves that technoblade is racist and that he needs to apologize for it A Year After He Had To Delete The Tweet.

this would be blatantly bad faith in Any situation, but it’s particularly difficult to swallow when technoblade is a 21 year old with adhd and anxiety who has a Shocking amount of ableism attached to how people read and talk about his tone in and around this fandom (the amount of times that I’ve seen techno, c! And cc!, called “emotionless” because of the way he talks is Extremely Uncomfortable). people were getting so worked up about this that they were angry at Tommy for responding to it with “agreed” as if he was in on mocking police brutality.

here are technoblade’s options in a situation like this. 1: he addresses everything and is forced to expose his massive audience to blatant bad faith made to make him look as terrible as possible when they otherwise wouldn’t have seen it, risking it mixing in with the things that he needs to legitimately apologize for in their minds. “didn’t technoblade make fun of george floyd?” is Not a rumor that you want floating around your reputation. people who passed around the accusation uncritically can now point to the fact that techno tried to defend himself to discredit the whole apology.

2: he focuses specifically on the things that he’s actually guilty of, that he doesn’t have to pick apart to explain why he doesn’t need to apologize, and risk people accusing him of avoiding his “biggest crimes” or trying to Suppress it which could give legs to a second wave of backlash given the right circumstances.

3: focus entirely on the biggest accusations like this one so that he can have an in depth conversation about them. people can now Either complain about the fact that he didn’t Really apologize he just made excuses for himself Or insist that he only focused on what he could debunk while ignoring people’s Legitimate criticisms.

4: addressing everything Vaguely rather than going into detail about what it is he’s apologizing for, allowing people to do whatever they want with the implications of that in the context of accusations like this.

5: try to handle the whole thing quietly and wait for the vitriol to die down.

technoblade was set up to fail on purpose, that’s obvious to us and would've been obvious to him. if someone accused me of mocking the death of a black man at the hands of the police for sharing a petition seeking justice for that man in the same breath that they complained about a joke I made in a minecraft roleplay and legitimately asked me to handle them both with the exact same importance I Wouldn’t Want To Address It Either. no one would. by mixing in plausibly legitimate if minor criticism with blanket accusations that are Big and Eye-catching they made a situation where any way that techno tried to address it he could be raked over the coals for it. the entire point of this was not to help technoblade Learn, it was to make him look Worse. that’s Why these things are mixed together and conflated. addressing it as it’s presented is a trap. I frankly don’t blame him at all for not addressing it directly.

[reidgraygubler]

the threat is gone (spencer reid/reader)

Title: the threat is gone

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it off her hands :) (Reader is being threatened by an unsub and is given safety instructions by reid that she disobeys out of boredom, so when the threat is over she tries to joke/lie/argue her way out of trouble but he’s in total dead serious fbi interrogation mode and calmly hauls her over his lap and doesnt stop til she’s crying hard and has told him everything and then he comforts her n from there whatever)

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader 

Category: angst, slight smut (either way, minors dni)

Content Warning: swearing, dishonesty, being spanked (to the point of tears), aftercare, D/s dynamic, reader being a brat, usual criminal minds case stuff, post prison & post series!reid, implied age gap (10 years),  use of a safeword

Word Count:  3,901

Summary:  Spencer sends Reader to a safe house after she’s threatened by an unsub. Reader decides to take her fate in her own hands and leave the safety. When Spencer finds out what she did, there’s hell to pay

A/N: happy easter to those who celebrate! pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins​ )posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. also thank you to @newportonmymind for beta reading this for me!! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Anderson and a cop are going to take you to a safe house,” Spencer looked down at me. I shifted on my feet as I looked up at him. My heart was in my throat. I didn’t think this unsub was that bad. 

“I’m not going to a safe house, Spencer. Being here is probably the safest place I could be. By your side… With the team,” I stepped up to him as I grabbed his hands. He looked down at me, a certain frustration in his eyes. 

“His victims are too much like you. We’re not taking that chance, I’m not taking that chance. Do you understand?” Spencer’s voice was low as he spoke. I swallowed roughly as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I understand,” I scoffed and shrugged his hands off my body. Spencer looked at me, watching as I collected my belongings. 

“Please, just trust me,” his voice was soft. I looked up at him, putting my bag across my body. 

“Yeah, of course, Spence, I trust you, wholeheartedly,” I smiled at him. He didn’t believe me. Granted, I didn’t exactly believe myself either. Why would I? I’m being snappy and sarcastic, and dismissive to everything he said. “I’ll be safe. Anderson and a random cop will be with me. Do not worry,” I went up to him before pressing my lips to his. 

“It won’t be for long. We’ll be back home before you even know it,” Spencer smiled, resting his hands on my hips before kissing me again. “You’ll listen to me and Anderson, understand,” he kept his tone soft and quiet, but still held authority.

“Yeah, yeah! My life is now in his hands. I wholeheartedly trust you and Anderson,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He looked down at me, his honey-like hazel eyes watching every detail on my face. Part of me wondered why he stared at me the way he did. Was he memorizing every little detail of my face, just in case something happened to me?  Nothing will happen to me, that’s the whole reason why he’s having me go to a safe house with Anderson. 

“I love you,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. It was clear he was trying to not let his emotions show, but was also obviously losing. 

“I love you too,” I smiled before pressing his lips to mine for the briefest moment.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice came from the doorway, forcing Spencer and I to part. I swallowed roughly before turning to look at the door, seeing Anderson leaning against the doorframe. “But we’re ready to go,” he looked between Spencer and me.

“I’ll see you soon,” Spencer lifted his hand to my face, gently holding my cheek in his large palm. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “And don’t forget your promise. Follow your orders, and be a good girl,” he whispered the last part so only I would hear it.

“Ye-yeah, yeah… We’ll see you soon,” I repeated what he said before kissing him one last time. As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped away from Spencer’s body and followed closely behind Anderson. The cop that was behind us held a jacket over my body to hide my identity and keep me hidden from anyone unsub. 

“We’re going to stop at your place before we go to the safehouse, so you can get some clothes, toiletries and other belongings,” Anderson looked over at me once we got settled in the car. I glanced over at him and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” I swallowed roughly and nodded, “Will we be able to stop at a store too?” 

“Everything you should need, food and entertainment, should be at the safehouse when we arrive,” Anderson backhandedly answered my question. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at him.

The rest of the drive to the apartment was tense and silent. It was almost like we were in a library. Any sound or comment that was made, any breath that was breathed, felt wrong and I should be executed for it. But, that would kind of defeat the purpose of me going to this safehouse, right?

“Be quick, we only have a few minutes. We have to be on the road before dark,” Anderson looked at me as we both walked up the steps to the apartment complex. I glanced over at him and nodded lightly.

“Will do,” I nodded as I pulled out the keys and unlocked the building’s door. Anderson stayed standing outside the building, by the door, as I went inside.

The apartment that I shared with Spencer was a mess, but to be fair it was mostly Spencer’s mess. Books, papers and files scattered over any surface. And if there was an exposed surface, it was occupied by a coffee cup. At the office and on the road, Spencer is neat and organized, but at home, when his walls come down and once he’s in the zone, the organization goes out the window. Teaching tended to take a back seat; the papers that littered the room (and office and bedroom) consisted of papers he has/is supposed to grade.

I think the only organized room was our bedroom. Even though no one else ever entered that room, he always had it pristine. He knew where everything was, and if one thing was out of place or out of line, he’d know in an instant. We had come to a shared agreement that the bedroom was for bedroom activities only. If we could keep work stuff out of our room, we would. Our room was the only truly the only place we had control, hence the cleanliness and order of it.

I was quiet as I grabbed my backpack. Shoving my clothes into it, I muttered strings of profanities. Spending time in stupid safe house sounded like pure hell, absoulte boredom. Why would he think I would be okay at a safehouse? I could be useful at the office, and safer too. What’s safer than being with the team, not to mention with Spencer?

With a deep and resigned sigh, I threw the straps of my backpack over my shoulders. Anything to make Spencer happy, I suppose. I was a brat, but this didn’t seem like something to fight him on. 

I quietly exited my home and went back outside, where Anderson was still waiting. 

“Ready,” I looked over at him, feeling a fake smile grow across my lips. Anderson looked at me and nodded before taking the lead back to the cop car. I looked over at him and nodded as the car finally jerked forward and took off. 

If I thought the drive to the apartment was bad… The drive to the safehouse was worse. If I had known it was going to be a 1 hour drive, I would have fought harder. This time around, I could sense that Anderson was trying to make some sort of an effort to make me feel better about this situation. But it was clear it was a fail of an attempt too. He kept talking about the things he enjoyed rather than common interest, or small talk. Yes, Spencer could do the same, but at least his factoids were adorable or at least relevant.

I almost felt bad, because I had honestly stopped listening to everything he said. I’m not sure when I stopped listening, sometime around the time he started talking about baseball. I take back what I said about Spencer, this was far worse. I swear, I actually liked listening to Spencer ramble on and on when he info dumps. But Anderson… 

“Anderson,” I looked over at him, cutting him off as he spoke, “Please… For the love of God… I know you love baseball… But you have got to stop talking for five fucking minutes,” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He looked back at me before closing his mouth and nodding. 

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was silent. I almost couldn’t believe how quiet it was. And, I almost couldn’t think of a time where it was silent for such a long period of time. I suppose in the moment I was thankful that things were turning out the way they were.

“Here’s your bedroom,” Anderson spoke cooly as we walked past a room. I looked over at him, feeling my exhaustion spread through my body. “Rest all you want. There’s some books that Spencer sent over that you could read. As well as movies you could watch,” he looked over at me. I looked back at him and nodded.

“I think I’ll do that… Everything that’s happened today… I’m exhausted,” I laughed nervously as I entered the room. Anderson looked at me and nodded, watching as I closed the door. I pressed my back to the door once it was shut, clicking it locked with a sigh. 

My eyes scanned across the bland room. It consisted of a bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a window. Of course, all safe houses are basically empty homes. Fake houses that looked lived in, when in reality they were nothing.

But then I looked back at the window… We were only an hour away from the apartment… Surely I could...

“Like hell I’m going stay in this stupid safe-house with Anderson,” I scoffed before rushing over to the window. I threw it open so fast I was worried I’d broken it. I didn’t have every step of my escape planned out, but I knew I had to get out of here. I knew I could think on my feet, so the spontaneity didn’t faze me.

I had to be quick as I had to make sure that Anderson didn’t clue into what I was doing. Because the second he knew that I wasn’t in the the safe house anymore, was the second Spencer knew, and then I’d be in big trouble -- worse than if the unsub were to catch me. 

“Okay, okay,” I whispered as I patted down my pockets, feeling for my phone and wallet, trusting that everything else that I needed would be in my bags. I’d be back by the end of this case. I wasn’t exactly running away, I was just getting away because this was stupid. The safest place I would have been in was with Spencer and the rest of the team. I knew that, and I knew Spencer just needed reminding that I was right.  

‘I wasn’t running away,’ I thought to myself as I looked out the window. It wasn’t a far jump. 3 yards at least. I wouldn’t get hurt by that, should I? 

I glanced over my shoulder, just making sure no one was watching me, before finally jumping out the window. I grunted when I landed on the ground. Then, I was off.

There was a coffee shop not far from the house. That was my destination. And then from there, I’d get an uber or taxi back home, or shopping, or someplace else. As long as I was away from danger, I was okay. 

I could feel a certain anxiety grow up my throat the further I got from the safe house. It wasn’t because I was afraid that I was going to get hurt. It was because of Spencer. I just wasn’t sure how he’d take to that news -- but I could take an educated guess. It was honestly a matter of time before I go-

Spencer Calling…

I stared at the screen, looking at the picture of Spencer and I at one of Rossi’s fabulous parties. I swallowed back my fear and anxiety, and took a deep breath of courage before pressing answer.

“Hel-”

“Where the hell are you!?” Spencer growled as his voice came through the speaker. Fear… Fear grew in the pit of my stomach, and it was hard to breathe. “I swear to God,”

“I’m fine! I’m safe…” I returned as my steps slowed on the sidewalk. I didn’t totally answer his question. I didn’t really want to tell him I was at a coffee shop 5 minutes away from the safe house. Because then he’d have Anderson on my ass in a second. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, and you know that,” Spencer snapped back. I froze in my tracks, my heart beating harder than I could control. “Where are you? Make me ask again and I won’t be nice,” 

“Spencer,” I started, my voice low and shaky, “I can’t tell you,” I shook my head. I could hear the breath of air that Spencer let out, and it only scared me more.

“If you’re not back at that safe house in 20 minutes, you will have the biggest punishment. Do you understand, Princess?” 

“I’ll be safe, Spencer,” I muttered. I stared at the ground for a long time as we both stayed silent. It was hard to say how long passed, but it was a while. “Bye Spencer,”

“If you hang up, I swear,” he started but I didn’t get to feel the end of it before I hung up. I swallowed roughly before continuing my trek towards the coffee shop as my phone buzzed continuously.

{***}{***}{***}

“Where were you again?” Spencer asked, just to ask. He didn’t forget. The man he is? He’d never forget. Especially something like this.

“Coffee shop and Library, I thought you would just have Garcia track me.” I mumbled as I waited for him to unlock the door. My stomach was slowly churning the longer he took to unlock the door. Although, I was okay with how slow he was. The slower he took, the longer I had before the punishment.

Spencer huffed out a breath of air and shook his head. I stared at him, watching as the door finally unlocked and was pushed open.

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?! How… How much danger you were in?!” Spencer shouted as we both entered the apartment. I glanced at him as I made my way to the couch.

"C'mon, I was probably safer at the library and coffee shop anyways! Bastard knew I’d go to a safe house and our apartment," I shrugged as I flopped onto the couch. Spencer looked down at me like he was the parent reprimanding their disobedient child. Granted, that’s kind of how our dynamic was when we weren’t at work or it was a normal day. I do have to admit though, I was wrong for not going where he wanted me to.

"You directly disobeyed me. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How could you be so reckless!? You have no idea how scared I was when I heard you weren’t at the safe house,” he shouted, but as he got closer to the end of his sentence, his words got quieter and his voice cracked. I looked up at him, the feeling of guilt suddenly eating away in my stomach. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what else you want me to say or do, Spencer…” I muttered before shrugging. I glanced at him as he stood on the other side of the coffee table. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt, quietly muttering something as he went. “Spencer, look, I said I’m sorry… I’m home and I’m safe…” I watched him with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

"You disobeyed me, put yourself in danger,," his voice was low as he stood up. I watched as he walked over. The hairs on the back of my neck were instantly standing, and I could feel goosebumps grow all over my arms. “Sorry just isn’t going to cut it,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him, and I knew exactly what he was about to do. So my next question was redundant.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I looked up at him. My heart was suddenly in my stomach as he lowered to my height. I tried to look anywhere but him, but that was hard when he placed his finger under my chin, coaxing me to look at him. I tried my hardest to not look up at him, but it was so hard to not look at him. He was right there and he was my favorite person to look at. But, to be fair, when he was mad it made me a little nervous.

"Well, you decided to go and break my instruction. And you know what happens to little girls who disobey their rules," he kept his voice low as he spoke. I dropped my gaze to my lap as he sat beside me. A shiver shot down my spine as I locked eyes with him… In that moment, I knew I was done for...  

"Wait, Spencer," I exclaimed as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me so I was lying across his lap. I lifted my head and looked up at him with wide eyes “Spencer! Spencer! Wait! Please!” I struggled as I squirmed in his lap. I wanted so badly to just slide out of his arms, but the way he held me made it damn near impossible to slide away from him.

“I’ve asked for an explanation and you didn’t provide one,” he spoke cooly. He kept his hands on my back, and not going any lower than my hips. I took a moment, struggling to breathe as I thought of why I left the safe house and Anderson. 

“I was just bored, okay? I was bored. And thought it was stupid that you had me leave the office and the team to go to a safe house,” I tried to wiggle from his grip again, but failed when his hold on me tightened. I swallowed roughly, hoping my truth telling would work, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t.

“Is this the truth?” Spencer asked, his tone somewhat overly nice. I bit my lips together and nodded lightly.

“It’s the truth, I swear, Spencer, it’s the truth,” I whispered. I knew telling the truth would lessen the harshness of his punishment. And, maybe it would. He does know when to be gentle.

“I’m happy you gave me the truth. But that still doesn’t mean it was okay to disobey me, you know that, don’t you Princess?” he whispered as he brushed down my hair. I let out a deep sigh before reluctantly nodding. 

“I know,” It was inevitable at this point. I owned up to my mistake, and now I need to own up to the punishment. And I knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” He kept his voice low. He knew if his voice was any louder, I’d instantly back away from all of this. “I think ten strikes is appropriate... Do you agree?” 

I would rather have less, and Spencer knew that too.  But if I argued he’d only add more. Which was worse than the ten he already offered. I knew that after he’d be okay and it’d be over with.  Fuck, I already wanted it to be over.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed deeply. I lifted my hips enough for him to pull my pants down over my bottom. My chest tightened as I tried to take a deep, shaky breath as I anticipated the first strike. 

My ears could just barely pick up the soft rush of air from Spencer’s hand before it landed hard against my bottom. I took a sharp breath of air and dropped my head down to the cushion.

“One…” I whispered as my hands gripped his pants tightly. I swallowed roughly as I tried to steady my breathing. Spencer gave me a moment to breathe before giving me two and three in a quick go. Four came after a brief moment. But then… Five was when it started getting shaky for me. Tears had started rolling on my face between three and four, but it didn’t start becoming trouble till five.

“Five! I understand! I swear! I’m sorry!” I cried out once his hand connected hard with my ass for the 5th time. And, okay, that one hurt, like a lot. I couldn’t tell if it was the sting that hurt, or the repeated assault on the sore spot… But I knew it hurt. With each strike, I could almost feel Spencer’s anger and anxiety. I definitely felt bad about doing what I did.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to ten...

“Just five more,” Spencer spoke softly as his hand carefully massaged my butt-cheek. I could tell he started feeling bad. But, we both knew he had to follow through with it. 

His hand whizzed through the air and smacked against my ass. A loud crack came through the air, and a sharp gasp fell from my lips. And, that was it. I definitely don’t think I’ll make it to ten. This was it. 

“Buttercup!” I shouted as my eyes snapped open. I could still feel the tears burning down my cheeks. Before Spencer could make contact for the 7th time, he stopped. He kept both his hands away from my body as I moved away from him. With that, we were both silent for a minute, as I tried to recalibrate my breathing. 

Spencer looked over at me, sensing his sudden change in demeanor. His anger and anxiety was gone and replaced with a guilty panic. The atmosphere changed.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked after a minute had passed. I was, painfully, sitting on the next cushion away from him. I needed my space. I bit my lips and nodded as I roughly wiped my cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” I whispered looking back at him. I watched as he slowly lifted his hands, offering both of them for me to hold. I stared at them for a while before just falling into his sigh, a shaky breath, almost a sob, going through my body.

“I got you; you’re ok, you’re safe. I was so worried. You have to understand how dangerous it was for you to just leave like that. I thought I was never going to see you again,” Spencer whispered, bringing a hand to run over my hair. I bit my lips and nodded.

“No, I know… I’m sorry for… I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I don’t even know… I should have just stayed at the safe house,” I whispered as I pressed my face into his shoulder. I felt as he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around me, resting and hand on my lower back. 

I was happy he didn’t mention how I told him the truth a little bit ago. My body could feel the exhaustion from the whole day. It wasn’t just the punishment, or the little bit of arguing, or even the running away. It was everything combined. I needed sleep soon. Spencer knew that too.

“Why don’t we go into our room and cuddle,” he whispered as he continued stroking my hair. I sniffled lightly before laughing. Just like he was reading my mind. He knows me better than anyone. “I just want you safe in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’d like that a lot, actually,” I looked up at him. Spencer smiled at me before lightly pressing his lips to mine. 

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

[minaslittleone]

Fission & Fusion (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story "And I failed to climb the mountain".

Word count: ~2700

The hours after that were fuzzy. After storming out of her parents house with little more than the bare essentials and no intention of returning Wilhemina didn't really have much of a plan. She had never fantasized about running away as a child, she hadn't even been brave enough to rebel vicariously and yet here she was, with no plan and no where to go. And terrified.

But Wilhemina was nothing if not practical so she sequestered all of those doubts and anxieties down into the deepest corners of her brain to be dealt with later, she told herself. Really to be dealt with never.

Practically speaking, money was her first concern. She knew that her mother's threat to cut her off had not been idle, but she also hoped that her mother would continue to underestimate her long enough that she would be able to clear the remaining funds out of her account before her mother froze it. Her pride raged against the idea of taking the idea of taking the money religiously placed into her "allowance" once a month by her father, hating how spoiled that made her sound and wanting to be free of any lingering ties to her parents. She would have gladly traded every last dime for any other monthly ritual with her father, for anything with him really. But she was a casualty of her parents' failing marriage, the only thing that they hated more than each other was the idea of acknowledging that their marriage had long since fallen apart. Her father avoided the house like the plague, and her by extension, throwing himself deeper and deeper into his professional life to mask the failure of his personal one. And so their relationship had become almost completely transactional, her father attempting to atone for his absence by providing her with everything she could ever dream of, save for the one thing she truly wanted - his affection. But as much as she hated the money and everything it represented, she really wasn't left with much of a choice.

That was how she found herself standing in front of a bank teller at 1:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, lying through her teeth and praying that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her hands. Exactly how she had got there she wasn't sure - a bus? Surely she hadn't walked this far - she was completely focused on getting what money she could and getting out.

The process was certainly made easier by the fact that she had been coming to this branch since her father had opened the account on her sixteenth birthday. And maybe for once in her life her twisted frame would be an asset - it was difficult to forget a girl her age with flaming red hair and a cane.

So she lied. She told the teller that she was using the money to put towards a car but that her parents were unfortunately too busy to accompany her. That part wasn't even really a lie, her parents were always too busy. Either way the teller didn't seem to see anything unusual about depositing the entire $5000 balance into Wilhemina's hand, before politely wishing her a pleasant day.

She had thought she would feel safer with the money in hand, feel like she had more control over the situation. In fact all it did was make her realise how vulnerable she was. How she would never be able to defend herself if someone decided they wanted to take it from her. Maybe her mother had been right, maybe she really was too broken and useless to survive on her own.

She could feel her heart racing. She had to find somewhere to stay. Find somewhere that she could get off the street. Maybe then she would feel safer. Maybe.

Except she didn't know how long she would need to make that $5000 last. She had no job and had effectively forfeited her degree the minute she walked out her parents' front door. Any future prospects she had were tied to their connections anyway. Oh god, what was she going to do? She had no experience and no qualifications, and any jobs that would have been open to her without those were made impossible by her twisted spine. She wouldn't have been able to stand for long enough to finish a shift as a waitress, let alone carry much whilst also maneuvering her cane.

So she would have to make the money last. At least until she managed to come up with a better plan. Which is how she found herself unpacking her meagre possessions into a battered shell of a room in a run down hotel that offered rooms by the hour. As she eased herself down onto the bed, finally allowing her back some respite after hours on her feet, she reasoned that this was the best choice for now. And she would think of something, this was only temporary.

But it hurt. The adrenaline from her triumphant exit earlier that morning was long gone and now she was left with the painful reality of what life on her own would look like. At the moment it consisted of a sea of mismatched floral patterned fabrics, a green melamine kitchenette and far too many questionable stains.

She felt like she was suffocating, that the battered walls with their pealing wallpaper were steadily encroaching on her, squeezing the last ounces of calm and confidence out of her by force. She had to get out, had to keep moving, had to keep busy lest the reality of her situation catch up to her and drown her in its melancholy.

She burst from the room, shaking fingers struggling clumsily against the lock. She had to get away, to be anywhere but here. Away from the stale smelling room with the pealing wallpaper. Away from the lumpy bed swathed in garish floral covers of questionable cleanliness. Away from the suffocating reminder of how alone she was.

It shouldn't have surprised her that she would end up back in the college library, it's where she spent most of her time any way, finding any excuse she could not to go home. It was quiet and it was safe. Between the warm, dim lighting and the earthy smell of the old wooden shelves and the books themselves Wilhemina finally began to calm. She could feel the tension to funnel out of her trembling fingers, feel heart finally stop racing and draw her first real breath in hours.

She didn't know how long she sat there, not really seeing or hearing the world around her, just being, adjusting. Letting her body and mind begin to come to terms with her situation. Start to reset her parameters and realise that she wasn't going home tonight, that there wasn't a home to go anymore. Perhaps there never had been, not in the ways that mattered.

She was drawn from her haze by the gentle but insistent whispering of her name that indicated that this wasn't the first time the owner had tried to rouse her. As her vision cleared she was met with the kind, if not slightly concerned countenance of her adviser, Professor Thompson.

"Is everything alright, Wilhemina?" She could only nod dumbly in response. "I missed you in class this morning" the older woman added. "I know you said had a specialist appointment and might be late, but I got worried when you never showed up. Did everything go ok?" Wilhemina couldn't find the words to answer, couldn't find a way to explain how her life had been pulled out from under her in the preceding few hours. Her mouth guppied in response, producing several sounds that could have been the start of ideas but nothing intelligible.

Professor Thompson's brow furrowed. Over the years that she had known Wilhemina Venable she had always been impressed by her tenacity. For all this young woman had endured, she had refused to let it define her. She was always the first present in class, sitting front and centre, attention never wavering, even on the days Professor Thompson could see the tell tale signs of pain breaking through her indifferent facade. The tension in her brow and jaw, the twitch of her lips and narrowing of her eyes at each spasm, the shifting in her seat in a desperate effort to find some level of comfort. There was a hardness, a determination in the eyes of that girl which said she refused to give up which was notably absent now, replaced by a glazed, foggy expression that made Professor Thompson's heart hurt.

"Wilhemina," she tried again, "would it be easier if we discussed this in my office?" The redhead's eyes rolled up to meet hers almost drunkenly, obviously still not entirely processing the world around her. She managed a small nod, vacant eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance. "Here, let me take your bag" she offered, hands floating just beyond Wilhemina's shoulders as the redhead hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she found some semblance of equilibrium.

Professor Thompson couldn't help but bring a hand to gently cup Wilhemina's upper arm, causing the younger woman to finally meet her gaze. Oh and didn't it just break her heart, the pleading terrified desperation she found in those deep brown eyes. "Come on, dear" she coaxed, "this way."

Wilhemina felt herself start to come back into her own body as she sat in Professor Thompson's office, old worn leather chair beneath her and warm cup of sweetened tea pressed into her trembling hands.

Professor Thompson noticed the change as well. "Easy, dear" she cautioned, as Wilhemina's shaking hands tried to raise the warm mug to her lips. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes" Wilhemina managed to rasp.

Professor Thompson reached out her hand to rest on Wilhemina's knee, rubbing slow comforting circles. "Do you think you can me what happened? Was it something at your appointment? Do you need another surgery?"

"No" Wilhemina whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the older woman, who's warm gaze encouraged her to continue. "The surgeon doesn't want to do anything, doesn't think it's necessary to do anything. My mother on the other hand is not satisfied and won't be until I look *normal*"

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you" the older woman tried.

"She wants me to stop being an embarrassment. She flat out told the surgeon she doesn't care about my pain, she only wants him to fix how hideous I look." It was happening again, Wilhemina realised, the years of repressed pain and frustration spewing out of her unbidden. "The surgeon stopped recommending procedures when I was eighteen because they weren't likely to help but my mother kept insisting because I looked so hideous she couldn't stand it. She put me through years of pain because I was so ugly and she was so ashamed of me." Her voiced cracked as the tears she had tried so hard contain broke free down her cheeks.

"She was trying to do it again" Wilhemina choked. "She was trying to convince him to operate again and I finally told her no."

"And how did she take that?" Professor Thompson asked, almost fearing the answer. Wilhemina let out a self-depricating laugh through her tears, rolling her eyes. "Wilhemina," she added urgently, gently squeezing her knee to get her attention, "she didn't hurt you, did she?"

Wilhemina stopped at that. "Not physically, no." A beat of understanding passed between the two women before Wilhemina continued. "She threw me out, cut me off, told me I was completely on my own unless I agree to have the surgery. Told me I can kiss my degree goodbye." The older woman gasped. "I told her she could have it, I was done with her controlling my life."

Professor Thompson reached out to take Wilhemina's hands, squeezing them in her own. "That was so incredibly brave." Wilhemina let out a wry chuckle "You don't think I'm completely mad?" Another warm squeeze of her hands. "Absolutely not. I think you are so strong."

Wilhemina raised her eyes again to meet those of her professor, searching them for the signs of a lie. Finding none she felt her chin begin to tremble as she fought against the tears.

She lost. The tears came bubbling out of her against her will. Tears for the years of pain she had endured, both physical and emotional, at her mother's hands. Tears for the little girl who spent years in pain trying to convince her parents that it wasn't all in her head. For her childhood that had been stolen from her. For the little girl alone in a hospital, who's parents were far too busy to visit, who was left to rely on nurses for comfort and support. For the twenty four year old woman who had just lost everything.

She curled in on herself as much as her twisted spine would allow, rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, trying in vain to offer herself some comfort. She felt the chair next to her dip and then she was being cradled in her advisors arms - how embarassing. But try as she might she couldn't quiet the hysterical sobs.

Eventually pulled herself out of the older womans arms, trying to regain some level of dignity. Professor Thompson gave her hands one last squeeze as she let her go.

"We will find a solution to all of this" she assured "but for now all of that can wait. You need to eat and you need to sleep. You must be exhausted" Wilhemina nodded, still frantically pawing at her tear-stained cheeks. There was no point hiding anymore, not after her earlier display.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Professor Thompson asked. "You're welcome to my spare room if not"

"No it's fine" Wilhemina replied, glad to avoid imposing on her professor further. "I have a hotel room."

"Ok I'll drive you" Wilhemina tried valiantly to rebuff Professor Thompson's kindness, but the older woman would not be dissuaded. And once Wilhemina realised how dark it had gotten she was secretly grateful.

As the car came to a stop in front what currently passed for Wilhemina's lodgings, Professor Thompson took her hand once more. "After work tomorrow" she pressed "I am picking you up and you are having dinner with me. It will give us a chance to come up with a plan for what happens next. I refuse to see someone as smart and driven as you are, Wilhemina, be sabotaged by negligent parenting. We will figure this out."

Wilhemina couldn't even bring herself to try and rebuff such kindness, for how her heart ached for it. Instead all she could manage was a watery "okay" and tremulous smile. As she walked back to her room she felt lighter than she had all day, tension finally beginning to drain from her body like water trickling down her arms and plummeting from her fingertips.

Exhaustion quickly rose to fill vacancy making her limbs heavy and fingers clumsy. Almost there, she told herself as she struggled with foreign keychain, not much longer. Just inside the door and then you can rest. But try as she might her exhausted mind could not make sense of the lock nor could it co-ordinate her trembling fingers well enough to keep hold of the keys which fell limply to the concrete just beyond her door.

It was as if the universe was laughing at her, she thought, as she gingerly squatted down, bending her legs to compensate for her immobilised spine. After all the humiliation she had endured today she could not be allowed to rest without at least one more reminder of her inadequacy. So fucking useless, the voice in ear chided, so fucking stupid. Hurry up and pick up the god damn keys and open the door like a normal, functional human being. Can you manage that much at least?

And maybe she could have managed it had the hand she extended to reach for her keys not been firmly crushed into the concrete and pulled away from her by a steal-capped boot, upsetting her precarious equilibrium and sending her sprawling face first into the concrete.

"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

A/N: Ok, so number one - I'm sorry (ducks). I promise I won't hurt her too much. This part wasn't even in my original plan but then the angsty little plot demons took over and here we are. Number two - for those of you who are interested I wrote Professor Thompson with Prof. Stromwell (Holland's character from legally blonde) in mind because I think she is exactly the type of tough but caring person that baby Mina would be drawn to. But also because I'm dying to see Sarah and Holland work on a project together, so this was my own vicarious little head cannon.

[pishufics]

study date(s)

"Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit. So, he's going to ask you for help."

pairing - bertholdt hoover x reader

tags - high school au, fluff, humor, texting

warnings - none

author’s note -  this was just a one shot but i kept writing lol it kind of switches between you and bertholdt, but i don't directly say his thoughts, it's kind of like 2nd person omniscient if that's even a thing LOL

lmk how the texting reads, i'll change it if it's weird

reblogs and comments are appreciated ! mwah

ao3 

chapter 1 - two days

reinah: I swear if you don’t just ASK her

Do you want to be held back?

bertoto: relax okay i’ll do it :(

r: Okay, okay

Lmk how it goes

b: i never said i was asking today

Bertholdt sighs and locks his phone once he sees Reiner start to type a reply.

Bertholdt is struggling with English, which surprises him. He’s a good student in every other class, but the moment Mr. Ackermann starts talking, he finds himself dozing off, missing the lecture. Recently, though, he’s awake in class, but still not paying attention. All his focus is on you, who sat in the middle of the classroom while he sat in the back, due to his height (he didn’t really mind, though; better chance of not getting caught asleep).

One day, due to some miraculous occurrence, the short, stern teacher actually had the boy’s attention, but not for long.

“Does anyone have number three?” Mr. Ackermann asked. Bertholdt definitely didn’t. He hoped someone would raise their hand so the teacher wouldn’t resort to calling a random name.

To his relief, you did.

“I think what the author was trying to convey was…”

Bertholdt didn’t really get what you were saying, but he admired your intelligence. You knew the material and could explain it in detail, while he couldn’t even recall the book's name in question.

He started to admire more of your traits - he gazed as you would lightly, but briskly, tap your foot in frustration when you didn’t know an answer and smile at the way your face relaxed when you finally got it. Seeing your motivation in class kickstarted his.

Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit.

So, he's going to ask you for help.

...Tomorrow.

-

“Girl, I don’t have any more fucking gum. I drove up to Costco, bought the value sized pack, and you somehow managed to chew all of it.” You say exasperatedly, shutting your locker.

Sasha pouts. “Are you sureeee? There’s prolly half a stick left in your front pocket…”

You swat her hand away. “There’s. Nothing. Left. I promise.” She continues to stare at your bag.

“Fuckin-” You mutter, reaching into your bag and pulling out a snack-size bag of Cheezits. They’re one of your favorite snacks, but you know you can’t win when it comes to Sasha and food. You reluctantly hand the bag to her.

“Thanks, y/n!” She smiles and tears open the bag.

“Yknow, you can be annoying as shit, Sasha.”

She winks at you and eats her stolen prize. You turn to leave and head to 3rd period. English.

Hm. You’re usually greeted by your other best friend around now-

“Yeoooo!!” Oh, there he is. Connie daps you up before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “What’s good?”

“I don’t really wanna go to 3rd," you answer. "Sasha stole my Cheezits."

“Does anyone really wanna go to any class? And that's your fault, you know you can't bring food without Sasha's fatass taking it,” Connie replies, and Sasha punches his shoulder.

“Okay, I know...have you started studying for the test?”

He blankly stares at you. Guess not. You have the same teacher, but different periods, so you can’t keep an eye on him.

“Nevermind. I’ll see y’all later.” You throw up a peace sign and head in the opposite direction.

It’s not like you’re bad at English, but you just don’t like school in general. You go to class to get your participation grade, then go home.

There might be another reason you tolerate 3rd period, though, and it isn’t the professor. (He is pretty fine, but he's an adult, so you don’t let your thoughts escalate).

-

Mr. Ackermann didn’t like assigning things online, so most of the work in this class was on paper, contrasting your other classes where everything was digital. Kind of annoying, but you’ve learned to deal with it.

You mainly use mechanical pencils because you hate the way wooden ones write, but one day, to your slight dismay, you forgot them at home. Just your luck.

There’s a container of pencils and a sharpener in the back of the classroom, so you stand up to go retrieve one and notice a tall boy asleep in a desk not too far back from yours.

Bertholdt Hoover.

You knew him, of course. You find it a little rude to not know your classmates' names; you’ve dealt with numerous “who?”s in previous years and don’t want to put anyone through that, so you make sure to pay attention during introductions.

You chuckle at sight. The class has barely even started, and the guy is already dozing. In an awkward position, at that. One of his long legs is across the other, cramped underneath the desk. His head was laying on his right arm with his left against his hair. You thought to wake him up, but he looked so peaceful, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, plus, it's not your business. Mr Ackermann somehow didn't notice either, so Bertholdt always had a good rest in 3rd period English.

Every time you walked into class, you checked to see what weird position he would be sleeping in. You found yourself looking forward to it- he looked kinda cute when he was sleeping- but he stopped one day. You were a little disappointed, but glad to know that he was starting to pay attention in class. You still glanced at him as you walked in- he's a pretty attractive guy. No harm in just looking...

-

You shrug your backpack off and sit at your desk, stretching your legs out a bit. The walk from your locker to this classroom was kind of far. You reach into your bag, get your mechanical pencil out, and wait for Mr Ackermann to pass out the first assignment.

Just then, you hear someone walk up to your desk, and you glance over.

‘Oh, it’s Bertholdt. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.’ You feel your face heat up, wondering what he wanted from you.

“Hey, y/n…” He nervously starts.

“Hey. Need something?”

“Yeah, actually...about the upcoming test.”

You hum in curiosity. “What about it?”

He clears his throat. “I’m lowkey failing this class, and if I mess up this test, I’ll have to retake this class next year. Do you think you could, uh…”

Bertholdt inhales in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t really work.

“Could you help me study?” Phew. He managed to get it out pretty well and made a mental note to give himself a pat on the back later. But he hasn’t fully succeeded yet; you still need to agree.

You weren't opposed to the idea. You kind of figured he would be struggling in class a bit since he used to sleep all the time. It’s alright with you, and you wouldn’t mind a potential new friend. Sasha and Connie were exhausting at times.

“Yeah, sure. When?” You pause. “Actually, just text me.” You hold out your hand, asking for his phone.

Bertholdt was practically shaking in his sneakers as he reached into his pocket and handed you his unlocked phone with the contacts app open. You actually agreed! And you were giving him your number! Reiner was going to be so proud, he smiled to himself.

As you type in your info, you appreciate the cleanliness of his phone. That shows you that he’s at least hygienic.

“Aight. Here you go,” you return his device. “See you later.” You smile.

Bertholdt can’t believe this is happening.

Mr Ackermann’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Oi, Hoover. Sit down.”

Startled, he jumps back a bit at the sudden acknowledgement. He was focused on you and tuned everything else out.

“Sorry, sir.” Bertholdt gives you a quick grin and turns to go back to his desk. Once he sits, he looks down at the new contact:

y/n :)

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Bertholdt can’t help but smile. Just seeing your name and number on his screen made him giddy, and he thought that the smiley face you added was adorable.

His thoughts are interrupted yet again, but not by the teacher. He looks down at his phone, which just buzzed.

| Messages

reinah

Did you do it yet bruh

Good timing. Bertholdt taps on the notification and goes to type a reply, but decides to send him a screenshot of your contact…with your number scribbled out. Reiner was a flirt, and he didn’t want to risk anything.

r: YOOOOOOOOOO HOLY SHIT U ACTUALLY DID IT

Bertholdt rolls his eyes and puts his phone in his backpack. He was going to pay attention- for real - today. He didn't want to seem too clueless when you tutored him.

“Can anyone tell me what rhetorical strategy is being used here?” Mr. Ackermann asked.

Bertholdt certainly could not. But that was changing soon, with your help.

--

“Okaay, we got Ms. Tutor over here now,” Sasha smiles in between bites of a burger.

“Do you even know how to, like, teach, though?” Connie gives you a skeptical look.

“It prolly isn’t too hard. All I gotta do is help him study. If he needs help understanding a concept, I’ll just explain it,” you defend yourself. “We still have two weeks. Ion mind making flashcards or something.”

“You’re getting into it, huh?” Sasha laughs.

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Girl, you know it isn’t like that.”

“And why not? You’re always bitching about how lonely you are. High school isn’t gonna last forever…” she replies.

“I have no recollection of saying anything like that.” You glare. But she isn’t exactly wrong. You’d like to experience the “high school romance” you’ve heard so much about, and Bertholdt is pretty cute. It’s not like dating is a significant concern, though.

“I’m always here as an option, y/n,” Connie winks as he takes a sip of his soda.

“Hell nah.”

Across the cafeteria, Bertholdt is trying to eat a sandwich, but Reiner won’t leave him alone. He was right about Reiner being proud, but Bertholdt almost forgot how persistent the jock could get.

“I didn’t think you had the balls, dude. I was ready to see English 3 on your schedule again next year,” He grins, arm around his taller friend's shoulders.

“...Can I eat?” Bertholdt sighs and shrugs his friend away.

“Have you texted her yet? What day are you gonna hang out with her? You gonna bring her anything? Flowers or somethin’? Girls like that kinda stuff.”

Bertholdt didn’t really think that was true.

“First off, no, not yet. I need to see when I can actually go. Second, no, I am not bringing her anything. I didn’t say it was a date. She’s going to help me study.”

“Fine, man. At least try to seem more interesting, yknow, so she can like...be interested in you.”

“Are you saying I’m boring? Ouch,” He jokingly pouts and rolls his eyes at Reiner’s double usage of ‘interesting.’

“You said it, not me.”

“Okay, I don’t wanna hear that from you...if it came from Annie, then I’d believe it.” Bertholdt looks in the blonde’s direction. She took a bite from her burger, looked up from her phone, and shrugged.

“Damn, for real?” Bertholdt sinks. He didn’t think he was that dull. He did lots of interesting stuff, like…

Like…

Bertholdt sighs in defeat.

“It’s fine. Maybe y/n likes boring,” Bertholdt huffs, taking another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that and see where it gets you…” Reiner mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Nothing, man…”

School's been over for an hour or two. You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you feel a buzz, and glance towards the top of the screen.

| Messages

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey

it’s bertholdt 😁

where should we meet up?

Your heart starts to beat a little faster. ‘Relax, girl… don't act like he's asking you out or something,’ you tell yourself.

y/n: hey!

how abt the library?

+  what day/ time works for you?

You add his number to your contacts as you wait for his response.

bertholdt :^)

is saturday at 3 okay?

y/n: yep

do you need a ride or anything?

b: no, but thank you

see you then ☺️

y/n: alrighty :)

You smile at his use of emojis, send what he requested, then swipe down on your screen to check the day (what? It's normal to forget sometimes.) Wednesday. Two days.

You feel like it would be awkward to study with Bertholdt considering you aren’t really friends, so you decide to text him a little more so it isn't too bad when the day arrives.

----

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Reiner exclaims. “You could’ve tried to talk to her more, but it went good!”

“I think it would’ve been weird if I did say anything else. Best to leave it at that…” Bertholdt exclaims, trying to calm himself down. He had two days.

He wonders what he should do now. Study so he could impress you? Do something to make himself seem more interesting? What would he even do...?

Bertholdt taps back onto the conversation to reread it for the 6th time. Was there anything he could’ve said different? Should he try asking you someth-

Oh, wait-? You’re typing?

“Oh shit- Dude, she’s saying something else. What do I do?” He begins to panic. Did you suddenly decide he wasn’t worth your time? Were you cancelling?

y/n: sooo

how’s your day been?

Whaaaaaatttt?? You actually...care to ask?

Bertholdt stared at his phone in surprise.

“What’d she say? Cmon! Don’t just look, dude!”

“She...asked how my day’s been-”

“-You gotta reply now! You were on the chat when she said it, so she knows you’ve read it!” Reiner urges.

Shit. He doesn't have enough time to think of a good reply.

good, but better since i’m texting you 😉|

The hell? No, that’s weird. And too soon. He tries again...

pretty good, thanks!

kinda stressing over the test, haha

how’s your day going?

There we go. He twiddles his thumbs as he waits for your reply.

y/n :)

oh, dw, it’ll be fine !

my day was okay

sasha took my last bag of cheez its :(

b: ah, i'm sorry abt that :(

+ yeah, you're right

have you as my tutor :)

“Nice job man! That was...kinda flirty? You’ll get there!” Reiner ruffles his hair in encouragement, and Bertholdt shoos him away. He stares at his phone in anticipation. Was that too much?

----

i have you as my tutor :)

You lean your head on your pillow and feel your face heat up at the compliment ( was that a compliment?)

It’s not like you’re dumb, so he’s not wrong to think that. Your lips curl into a smile as you reread the message. But how do you reply? Should you compliment him back? You don’t really know.

if you’re saying i’m smart, thank you :))

hoping that wasn't sarcasm lol

You wait a minute, and he doesn’t reply, so you decide to ask another question.

is there anything specific you wanna focus on?

You cringe at the double texting, but hope that it doesn't make him think you're weird. You swipe away from the conversation and scroll on various apps as you wait.

b: ofc it wasn’t sarcasm, you're really smart, y/n!

i'm mainly struggling with rhetorical strategies and logical fallacies, but i could

use a general review too

if that's okay with you

You bury your almost overheating face into your pillow. Why is something like that getting you flustered, you wonder. You sit up, take a deep breath, and focus on the second part of his message. You're pretty good with what he needs work on, and a general review should be easy to put together.

y/n :) okay, we can focus on the first 2 on saturday

we can review the unit on other days

see you at school:)

At this point, you really don’t know how this conversation could go any further, so you ended it. Bertholdt returns your goodbye.

You exhale and sit up in your bed. Hopefully tutoring him won’t be too awkward now that you’ve spoken to him a bit, and there's still tomorrow at school to speak to him. You find yourself excited for the study date tutoring session, since you could get your homework done too.

"Two days," you smile.

[milkybunbuns]

not just you → miya.a

w/c: 1.1 k

warnings: Haikyuu spoilers - season 4, reader is a teeeeeny bit sadistic, smol bits of swearing

a/n: Pleaseee send in some requests, I am dying to write but I am inspiration-less at the moment haha. Rules for requests are here~ Also, I probably already forgot most of the stuff from season 4 so dialogue and stuff here is completely made up, with a few stuff from the anime intertwined :D Also I basically know nothing about volleyball so please ignore anything in here that isn’t right about volleyball lol.

-

Miya Atsumu was always well-known for his ability to wield two serves and his skills as his setter, so he was certainly taken by storm when you, just a mere first year, came onto the court.

“We’re finally here, after all that hard work”, you smiled gently grabbing the strap of your bag which contained a lot of candies.

“I know right! I can’t wait to go against Nekoma!”, Hinata grinned, jumping up and down excitedly.

Kageyama couldn’t be more sick and tired of the two of you, smacking Hinata as the two of you hurried to catch up to him. There on the blue courts were Inarizaki who were already busy practising, their setter Miya Atsumu setting for the other players as their libero and captain received the balls on the other side. Your team came just inside to see the twins in action, Miya twins, best volleyball duo by far. Honestly, unlike some of your teammates who were groaning to play against the second-best in the nationals, you were beyond excited, ready to crush them and see their defeated faces.

“Kageyama-kun, let’s go practice over there”, you pointed to one of the empty courts, all three of you headed over. Hinata and yourself took turns blocking and spiking Kageyama’s balls, while everyone else worked with Sugawara as their setter. You were far more experienced in volleyball and skilled, but it wasn’t that you were a genius like Kageyama, you worked hard and had a passion for the game.

Soon after, coach Ukai called the team over, speaking a few words before everyone bowed to the other team, thanking each other for the game. You shook your fingers out, getting rid of the nerves in them. The rotation was like this, in the front row, from left to right were Tsukishima, Hinata and Kageyama, then in the back row were Asahi, Nishinoya and yourself. You would be serving and you could hear the boos of the Inarizaki cheer team, yet, you ignored them. You focused on the lights in the ceiling, humming to yourself and mentally counting to 6. It was then that you made the approach, hitting a spike serve aimed directly at the corner, near their ace, Ojiro Aran, who was a bit more unsteady with his receives compared to some of the other players.

A few seconds passed before a loud cheer was heard from your team.

“YESSSSS! M/N-KUNN!”, your team yelled happily engulfing you in hugs.

The news reporters up on the stadium widened their eyes in surprise, immediately reporting to the cameras, “And Karasuno Highschool’s first year and former member of Shiratorizawa middle school has scored a no-touch service ace against the second place champions of last time, Inarizaki high!”

Fweeet!

The whistle rang again, but this time you counted to 4, jump floater serves required a bit more time and concentration than spike serves. As your fingers collided with the ball, you could feel it was going to be a good one, making you grin happily, watching as the ball glided shakily over to the other side, towards Ojiro again. This time, he received it, but way too off, the ball bouncing out of bounds. You watched gleefully as he covered his face with his hands, a gloomy aura around him while his teammates tried to cheer him up, patting him on his back. Heh, Atsumu-san, you aren’t the only one who can wield two serves, don’t get too cocky, I’ve seen your matches before, cocky little shit. The blond-haired setter of Inarizaki frowned slightly before a glint of determination flashed in his eyes. I’ll get more service aces than you...it’s not fair, im meant to be the only one who can do this...now i have to go against you and ‘samu.

“AND THE KARASUNO FIRST YEAR, L/N M/N, HAS SCORED A DOUBLE SERVICE ACE AGAINST INA HIGH! KARASUNO HAS A LEAD RIGHT NOW, BUT CAN THE FORMER CHAMPIONS CATCH UP!?” The crowd on Karasuno’s side cheered loudly, blocking out the ridiculously loud booing of the Inarizaki cheer squad.

“Nice serve M/n!”

1

2

3

4

You jumped and hit the ball, right back towards their ace yet again. It was a good idea to build pressure on him, seeing as he was one of the team’s highest scorers. Their libero quickly dashed in front of their ace and cleanly received the ball for their team, making you grimace at your failed attempt of a service ace. Atsumu set the ball for a black-haired boy, who you assumed was Suna, after watching plenty of their old matches. Kageyama and Hinata jumped up, but their block was easily avoided by Suna as he rotated his upper torso to spike around the block. Quickly reacting out of reflexes, you dived for the ball, hands flat like a pancake and managed to get the ball back up in the air. Kageyama quickly positioned himself under the ball and set to Hinata who, unfortunately, got completely blocked out by Atsumu and Suna.

----

After the match, where Karasuno had won an extremely close battle, you decided to wander around the halls for a while, having changed out of your jersey faster than everyone else. You turned the corner, spotting a mob of blond hair, leaning against the wall, earphones in and staring out of the window. You headed towards his figure, doing an experimental jab in his side.

“Argh! Who the fuc-”, he howled in pain, looking around angrily before stopping at you. All his anger melted as soon as he saw you, staring at him with the eyes of his captain.

“Y’know, you’re a cocky piece of shit.”

“Well ya ain’t any better, copy cat”, he sneered back, kind of shocked that someone just walked up to his, jabbed him and started insulting him!

“It’s not just you who can do whatever you do. You do realise?”

“Yeah, of course I do, who do you take me for?”

“Well then, grow up and accept that I am at your level, perhaps even higher. Stop sulking. It’s disgustin’ and reeks.”

“What’s with yer accent, it ain’t Miyagi accent.”

“Just mockin’ yer, hope to see you soon, Atsumu-san”, you turned your heel and walked out the hallway, leaving Atsumu to think about what you had just said. A moment later, his feet moved instinctively, rushing towards you and yelling, “YER CAN’T JUST INSULT ME AND RUN AWAY. NOBODY CAN DO THAT!!!”

But by then, you were boarding the bus home and he could see you peering out of the window winking playfully at him and pointing at his pants. Confused, he checked his pants, only to find a small folded up piece of paper with your phone number on it. Smiling, he rushed back to the rest of his team, hearing his captain call for him.

[nadiecomoyo]

Fortune Favors The Bold

Prologue

Before visiting Yuta, Gojo travels to America to see a group of skilled individuals. Once there he gives them the task to seek out cases where curses are out of the norm, in hopes to find more of Sukuna’s fingers. All four of them scramble across Japan with one goal in mind: find as many fingers as possible to feed to the new vessel before his execution takes place.

Song Inspirations: La Casita, The Plan, Leave The Door Open

WK: 3.5k

A/N: Hi! This is my first story. It’s more for my entertainment but if people like this then great. Basically Gojo meeting the gang and what not. Enjoy!

“Would your table like to start off with an appetizer while the last person in your party arrives?” the waitress asked, making her round yet again to the table for a third time that night. The pristine white table cloth maintaining the same cleanliness since their arrival. The only indication of the table being used are the four empty glasses littering the table. The exact table currently holding four people who remained silent as sharp glares descend on the vacant seat. The three men and one female all looked like they wanted to be somewhere else, the waitress noted that none of the guests have ordered food, only drinks.

Angel sighed, seeing the lack of initiative from the others, and decided to answer the patient waitress. “No thank you, we’ll order once he arrives. But can you get us four,” turning his head to see Nicole motioning to her glass, “I mean three glasses of Aviation and one glass of water.” The waitress jotted down the request and promptly left.

The lavish Gabriel Kreuther restaurant became alive at night: people chattering, plates and utensils clicking, instruments playing, yet their table did not have an ounce of sound. Unbeknown to the waitress and the people around them, the four were conversating in their minds.

[Some invite this is], Alejandro flicked his wrist to the seat next to him.

[The guy is almost an hour late. I don’t care who he is I’m ditching this place once I finish my drink], Thomas sent an annoyed look to the group. Alejandro hummed in agreement.

[Come on guys, it must be serious if he contacted us], Angel pleads to the other three at the table.

[It’s concerning how he found us. The barrier I generate around us clouds our remnants. The inevitable trails we leave behind should not be enough to trace us ba-]

[-Must be his Six Eyes!] Thomas’ eyes widened at his not-so-genius epiphany.

His internal excitement reached his body, their mental conversation did not help the incoming waitress with their drinks, who has not seen much of a reaction from the guests since they have arrived. She did not expect Thomas’ action and almost dropped the tray onto the floor. A quick apology towards the waitress and a mild smack on Thomas’ head from Nicole amended the almost tragedy.

[As I was saying], Nicole specifically looking at Thomas, [I’m just glad we’re here and not back home. I never want to be in the same room with him and my grandfather.]

[The bastard may finally have a heart attack], Alejandro snickering at the thought of the resigned clan leader kicking the bucket, [Either way being caught between a rock and a hard place sucks.]

Everyone was thinking the same thing since their special, late, guest invited them to the sought-after restaurant overviewing the New York skyline. They all did not like this encounter one bit. All four of them were uncomfortably realizing their present reality. Exorcising in the shadows for so long, while going against their respective clan’s wishes, they preferred no one knew about their prohibited activities. The confrontation by a certain sorcerer clearly irked them, especially Nicole.

[Those eyes of his annoy me beyond imagina-]

Nicole halted her sentence as all four of them sensed an overwhelming presence of cursed energy. Being seated in the middle of the room, it gave them access to seeing the entrance door. An overly tall white-haired man sporting black sunglasses entered the main dining room floor. He exchanged words with the host, who pointed to the reserved table under his name, and began to walk towards them.

“Look who finally arrived,” Angel’s sarcastic comment rang a bit too loud causing a few people at the other tables to glance at him.

Nicole quickly investigated the special guest’s mind.

[Oh, I am so late. But that chocolate pizza really hit the spot. I need to buy one for Yuta before I leave.]

Disappointed with the revelation, she retracted from his mind. Nicole begrudgingly sent him a smile as he sat down at the table acting as if he was not late by one hour.

“Sorry for the delay, traffic here is terrible amiright?” flashing a bright smile towards the four at the table, “My name is Sa-,”

“We know who you are. Can you get on with the point of this dinner? Your timing is immaculate, has anyone told you that?" Thomas interrupted Gojo, sending him the same bright smile back. Gojo seemed to expect that type of response and brushed his teasing comment.

“I knew I made the right choice with you all,” Gojo slouched on his chair and pointed at Nicole, “You made it a difficult task in trying to find all four of you, I’m impressed, but better luck next time.”

His jab at her technique hardly offended her. Unsurprising to her, it offended the three other males. Before the lot opened their mouths, she sent them a reassuring nod before speaking on her behalf.

“Now that I am familiar with your mind, I will sense your presence the second you come into the country again. I will make sure that you will never find us again,” [nor our clans] she thought, while staring into the black abyss of his sunglasses.

“Don’t stay away too far, I’ll miss you,” His shameless flirting earned him scoffs from Alejandro and Thomas.

[This guy, I swear] / [Gross], both men expressed their distaste.

“Are you going to tell us what this dinner is for? Certainly not to get to know us. You clearly have knowledge of us, it got you this far,” disgusted by his remark, Nicole wanted this dinner to end as soon as possible.

“Well to keep this as simple as possible, we recently found a suitable vessel for Sukuna’s fingers. The vessel’s control over the curse is immeasurable. I have never seen a vessel like Yuji Itadori, quite frightening. Fortunately, his execution is delayed by yours truly,” motioning to himself, “I see this as an opportunity to destroy all the fingers. It would be a waste to kill him, right? However, Jujutsu Tech only has a few of the fingers.”

Gojo leans towards the table assessing the table, looking at each person one by one. Not one ounce of interest shown on their faces. On the contrary, their minds were racing with the oh-so-simple explanation given by Gojo. The bomb of information he dropped on them almost short-circuited their minds.

[What the hell? What in the actual hell?]

[Suitable vessel?]

[Yuji who?]

The loud thoughts from the guys started to bother Nicole. Hushing them, they all turned to say sorry. The white-haired sorcerer smirked, “This is where you four come in. I need your help in locating as many fingers as possible.”

“That means he ate a finger and has the capability to consume more without any complications?” Angel questioned in disbelief.

“Mhm!” Gojo nodded in excitement, at least someone is curious. Gojo feels confident in his recruitment skills, all he needs in a breakthrough.

[Hold up, I need food to process this.]

Thomas stood up from his seat. His face held something in between of a constipated/happy look. He spotted their designated waitress, beckoning her to come to the table.

“Sit down,” Nicole pulled him back into his seat.

“Excuse me ma’am, can I get the pork chops drizzled in wine sauce with a side of potatoes and greens?” The surprised waitress wrote down Thomas’ order and waiting patiently for the others. Not having any other option, the people seated at the table quickly ordered their desired plates, wanting the waitress to leave them alone.

The three besides Thomas, who was enjoying Alejandro’s unfinished Aviation, began to think on why this pertained to them.

Alejandro was the first to talk, “that’s quite the task, I don’t know if we’re qualified to handle it,” letting a lie slip from his mouth. He wanted to test the waters with Gojo to see how much he truly knew about them. They never flaunt their techniques, something they learned at a young age, how can this guy know what they are capable of accomplishing?

Seeing through the lie, Gojo smirked. He knew these four individuals were capable enough to exorcise grade 1 curses, possibly special grades. Gojo heard rumors about an American group of jujutsu sorcerers who clear swarms of curses with ease. People who vanish as quick as they strike, never leaving a trace behind. With the help of his Six Eyes, the remnants of their cursed energy were enough to help him locate the group. The closer he got to them, the foggier his mind became. He relied heavily on his eyes to find the four sorcerers. Overall, that technique of hers is a tricky one. Gojo has an inkling that she has a trump card up her sleeve. The others? He has no clue what lies within them. His eyes are failing him yet again, the four people around the table do not radiate any levels of cursed energy. One would say he is having dinner with civilians. But if he squints his eyes hard enough, he can see a glimpse of their energies through the mental barrier in front of him.

“We both know you’re kidding,” Assertive in his statement, Gojo laid back, getting comfortable in his chair.

“Either way international affairs aren’t our thing,” Nicole chimed in.

Gojo shrugged at her comment, “Aiding your fellow jujutsu comrades? Saving the world? This may be overseas affairs however, you’re gonna feel the ripple sooner or later sweetheart. What are you going to do then?”

[Why should we help a country that did not even help ours to begin with?] Being in public, she could not do much but glare at him. Not like that did much to affect Gojo. He's used to being the bane of many people's existence.

“There should be other capable sorcerers, you didn’t have to come all the way over here?” the three nodded at Angel’s point. They all agreed with Nicole's response as well. Why help when the other side of the world turned a blind eye to them? Years of curses running freely through populated cities to small farm towns. The aid back then from Japan was non-existent.

“It would be easier for me to get help back in Japan, but I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And I am not disappointed.” The small praise from Gojo did boost the four’s ego. Getting some recognition from the strongest sorcerer felt nice for a second, until they remembered why he praised them. The bubble from his praise was popped, bringing them back to reality.

“If we chose to accept this task, we will get something out of this. No way in hell am I doing your work for free.” Alejandro crossing his arms continues, “I like saving the world as much as the next guy, but this will not be a one-sided transaction.”

“Alright then, what do you want?” intrigued by what his demands would be, Gojo shifting himself to look towards his right. Signaling to Alejandro that his attention is on him.

Alejandro glanced at Angel and Thomas, both who were already staring at him.

“Great question. We’ll let you know when we need a favor from the strongest sorcerer alive,” Alejandro stated, the three men wearing a smug smile.

“Idiots,” Nicole murmured.

“While we’re thinking on what you can do for us,’ Alejandro gesturing to the four, “stay away from our clans. Do not go near any member of our families.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow when he noticed how serious Alejandro became.

Thomas added on, “Our techniques were a bitch to train, but it had to be done. We trained during the nights growing up; it was the only time we were out of sight from our families. It got easier as we got older, more freedom to roam and do as we please. Hiding our exorcisms from them is not something we are proud of. But we know they would not approve of what we do. Not like they can do anything at this point.”

“But there’s something about disappointing our families that we can’t bear to see,” Angel received funny stares from the three besides Gojo.

“Ok mamas’ boy, save the sappiness for later,” sending Angel a playful wink, the group chuckled at Nicole’s side joke. Alejandro took the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Everyone getting some entertainment by messing around with Angel.

“No one knows what we do. Our clans have lost all hope in saving this country. Growing up we all saw our fair share of deaths caused by curses. Our people have let them roam around for so long. All four of us decided to do what our clans have given up on. So far, I believe we have made a difference and that is all that matters to us,” Nicole loudly sighed before continuing, “But just know I am fully against helping you for your cause. Years have passed here, and our situation only got better because of us. The only reason why I would help you is if they all agree. If not, count me out. Do not think just because your comfort zone is in danger that I will run to help. And I can proudly say that the other three all agree with what I am saying.” Nicole's animosity reached Gojo’s ears. The three men she mentioned did not say anything, but one look at their stern faces spoke louder than words.

“Fair enough, but what about the future? Why do we have to follow the same traditions or actions that they did? Alienating ourselves to protect our useless hierarchy instead of allying with our neighboring countries will greatly benefit us all. Let us show everyone that working together does make changes.” Gojo slid his glasses slightly. His sky-blue eyes peeking out from the black tinted glasses, startling the whole table. One can try to explain how it feels to be under the gaze of Gojo Satoru, but it can never measure up to the actual feeling. They knew he was serious about recruiting them for the task. No doubt about it.

[Man, this blows. He’s actually serious]

[Do we agree?]

[I heard in Japan the fruit is expensive. Should I sneak in a watermelon into the country?]

[His eyes are beautiful.]

“Well 'Mr. Motivational Speaker' you got your point across, now tell us about the task.” That last thought made the three men look at Nicole, she ignored them and focused on Gojo.

“One thing to know, there may be a chance that the fingers resonate. The other fingers may have reacted to the first finger being eaten by Yuji. The chance that it is already eaten up by a curse is highly likely. If you agree, I will give you four individual missions. Each location has had unusual curse activity, a finger can be the cause of the of activity. That is why I am sending each of you to investigate and retrieve the finger if it is there. I would go, but I need to deal with Yuji’s transition into Jujutsu Tech. He is still a kid. I want him to at least enjoy the remaining life he has. Remember his execution is postponed, he will be executed in the future. But before that happens, he needs to eat as many fingers as possible. He is our only way to eliminate those cursed fingers.” Gojo elucidated Yuji's importance in eliminating the indestructible cursed fingers.

“Say we agree, where would we go?” Angel asked the question the four were dying to know. None have ever ventured outside of their county. The thought of leaving America to Japan has them on edge for what is to come if they agree to the mission.

“Let me remember,” one finger tapping on his chin as Gojo tried to remember the important locations, “Nicole to Okinawa, Angel to Musutafu, Alejandro to Osaka, and Thomas to Shinganshina.”

Listening to their designated places did excite them. Spending their time exorcising curses throughout America, they have seen grotesque curses that makes anyone hurl to weak curses even a baby can kill. Given the chance to see other parts of the world, the group began to think hard about their decision. Each one hoping that their decision matches the others.

The silence after revealing the locations made Gojo rethink his method of persuasion, [Should have done this differently, maybe start a game consisting of each person saying what is great about Satoru Gojo!], he thought.

[How is that persuasive?], a feminine voice popped unexpectedly in Gojo’s mind. Ignoring the snark comment, he instead focuses on her presence. He feels her peering into his mind, it felt personal. Not intimately but comfortably, almost as if they were to be playing a game together. Not having much knowledge on her technique, curiosity got the best of him. And he intended to discover more about it.

[Is that so? Tell me how to persuade you], Gojo putting emphasize on the word ‘you’, wanting to continue this private conversation.

[Be truthful. What else is there to say but the truth? Everything else is a waste of a breath.], Nicole stared right into his blank glasses, seeing nothing but her reflection. Sighing from Gojo’s way of thinking, she observes her friends.

Seeing her friends in their own conversations, she returned her attention to Gojo. Rolling her eyes and said, [What is with the glasses? I know you can’t see through them.]

[Helps with my technique], feeling unsatisfied by his response she did not push any further. Seems like we aren’t the only ones cautious, she thought. Deep in thought, Nicole did not notice the group switching topics. Alejandro’s voice reeling her back into the conversation.

“Well why not? I want to see the curses over there. I’ll give them a run for their money,” Alejandro leaned back with his arms on the back of his head. head. Patiently waiting to see where this would go. His response gave Gojo hope as he looked for the other responses.

The three other sorcerers looked at each other. Each of them wondering whether they are making the right choice or not. But after seeing Alejandro’s determined face, they won’t allow him to go by himself. It is all four of them or nothing. No one gets left behind or stranded. They did not need Nicole’s technique to know what they were all thinking.

“We’re in,” all three of them agree to the task.

“Only because this will benefit us as well, don’t forget that Gojo,” she reiterated to the now overly happy sorcerer in front of her. Her negative tone did not match the small quirk on her face.

“Going to Japan huh? Who would have thought?” Angel’s left-hand brushing through his hair, “We have to be crazy from agreeing to this.”

“Extremely but what’s a jujutsu sorcerer without some craziness? Basically a requirement for the job.” Gojo reassured them. Briefly thinking of his students who attract themselves to danger, like moths to light.

“Hey where is ou-” Thomas got cut off by the tray of delicious food heading towards there table. The sight of their food was mouthwatering. The meats to the pastas, everything they asked for was cooked to perfection. The four silently thanking Gojo for inviting them to the restaurant.

As they all settled in with their food, something rubbed Angel the wrong way.

“That Yuji guy, is he ok with all of this?” The question caught Gojo off guard.

“Yeah,” Thomas losing interest in his food spoke, “no one especially someone his age should not experience this. What terribly luck he has,” staring at the skyline.

“Knowing you’re going to die in the future, he must have will power. No regular guy would continue to move forward like that,” Alejandro added in.

The group stopped eating once they saw how silent Gojo became. The topic wasn’t the most positive one, but necessary. The four are weary about Sukuna’s vessel, but if Gojo has faith in the boy then they will follow his judgement. Easier to stomach when the threat is nowhere near your home, praying that this trip will prevent things from coming over to America. Feeling bad for bring up the topic, they resumed eating. No one mentioning again the fate of Yuji Itadori.

[You ok?] Gojo looked up form his plate to see Nicole looking at him. The blankness of her face masked her slight nervousness on how concerned she sounded. She sent him an awkward smile and followed the other’s actions. She ate her food while feeling Gojo’s gaze on her.

[I’m ok], she paused after hearing his thought, to her surprise, relieved. A genuine smile broke onto her face. Not wanting him to see her smile, she concentrates on enjoying her dish.

Dinner almost went smoothly aside from the couple flirty comments towards Nicole. She did not mind them; not like she would tell him that. Her friends on the other hand showed their disgust to Gojo’s flirtation.

After thanking the waitress for her patient service, leaving her a hefty tip courtesy from Gojo, Angel had to be dragged out of the restaurant by Thomas and Alejandro, the poor guy forgets he's lightweight. It was best to enjoy the night as much as they could. The future is ever-changing and they would like to die with no regrets. As they were heading out, going their separate ways for the time being, Gojo had one more thing to tell them.

“You know I’m counting on all four of you,” his parting words held so much weight, but it was also a breath of fresh air. Nodding to him, knowing that they will not let Gojo down. Not when this is the new beginning, one where humans prevail over curses.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Encounter Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Edit: This date has been released in EN!

The date begins with MC in her office at 11pm, preparing Victor’s “big surprise”

Over the past two weeks, she has been sending Victor small gifts to express her gratitude for his help in getting her a smooth interview with Mr Sheng, a real estate tycoon

While she’s in the office, Victor calls her regarding the puppy apron he received

Overall, he would give brief comments on these gifts. He would only say a word of thanks when he occasionally comes across a gift which suits his tastes. 

As for the puppy apron I sent today...

Before I can continue asking him about the apron, Victor has already changed the topic. 

Victor: If you’re willing to spend all your time on official business, you wouldn’t need to stay up every day... work is never-ending. It’s about time to go home and rest. 

MC: Eh? 

How does he know that I haven’t returned home to rest yet?

I hastily look out the window. A black car is stationary under the streetlamp. Even though I can’t see the car plate clearly, my instincts tell me that it’s Victor. 

MC: Why are you here? 

Victor: I was just passing by. 

Really...

Victor: Come down. I’ll send you home. 

MC: Okay! I’ll pack my things and head down.

Victor: There doesn’t seem to be a big proposal recently. Why do you have to stay till so late? 

My heart rattles, and I hurriedly find a reason to get by.

MC: Maybe my mood hasn’t been good recently, so I’m always not in the zone when doing work. 

I thought Victor would respond to my words with taunting remarks. Instead his tone slows down, revealing his certainty in me. 

Victor: The interview you did with Mr Sheng wasn’t bad. There’s no need to be too impatient, or give yourself too much stress. The accumulation of work always requires time.

Just before I turn the lights off, I toss another glance at the present on the table. Even though he can’t see my expression, I can’t help but smile and nod. 

MC: All right.

~

The next day, Mr Sheng sends her an invitation to a club to meet some of his friends in the industry, mentioning that MC’s interviews have had a positive effect on his company’s reputation

She agrees because it’s an opportunity to expand her network

When she arrives at the club, Victor happens to be there too

Mr Sheng receives a phone call and leaves Victor and MC alone 

Victor doesn’t let her drink alcohol, and orders her a glass of warm water instead:

Noticing me look longingly at the beautifully coloured tequila sunrise in his hand, he puts a small red paper umbrella into my cup. 

Later on, MC finds herself with nothing to do, so Victor stuffs a cue stick into her hand and suggests they have a game of billiards

MC suggests that if she wins, he has to pass her proposal

She had spent two months on the proposal, but Victor had put it down, saying that it's overly risky

MC: Don’t underestimate me! I’ve won second place in my school’s billiards competition.

While I was prepared for his taunting remarks, Victor grows silent instead.

His interest seems to be piqued, and he sits sideways on the billiard table. 

Victor: You’ve left the nest?

He chalks the tip of the cue stick slowly. Seeing that I didn’t say a word, he lifts his eyes towards me, as though genuinely wanting to know my answer to this question. 

Actually...

These types of situations happen from time to time. After all, no one wants the proposals they’ve worked hard on to be rejected. 

As long as Victor doesn’t completely reject the proposal, I’ll keep on striving.

Come to think of it, this seems to be the first time he has commented on my efforts to keep striving.

Victor: All right. We’ll have one round. 

Without waiting for my response, he has already made a decision. His low voice has a hint of joy in it. 

I hold my breath and find the most comfortable angle to strike the ball. The colourful balls crash and collide, and one of them rolls in a straight line to the lower right corner--

MC: Yes!

Victor looks at the colourful ball as it rolls into the bag. His brows are raised slightly, and he is clearly surprised. 

Victor: No wonder you dared to challenge me today.

MC: The stereotype you have of me is too deep. I’m not really a dummy!

Victor: A dummy’s luck just tends to be better.

My desire to win is ignited. No matter what, I’m going to fight back against his ridicule.

MC: Watch carefully - this is skill, not luck!

Victor leans at the corner of the billiard table, his arms folded. It’s as though he is intrigued, and has an expression which says that he’s going to continue appreciating my “performance”. 

My cue stick moves forward, and the white ball leaves my corner, colliding firmly against a bunch of colourful pool balls, and then gets hit into the diagonal bottom pocket...

At the very same moment, I can clearly hear Victor’s chuckle. 

Victor: Mm, your skills are not bad. 

MC: There’s no need to be too happy. It’s 1 against 0. I’m in the lead. 

Victor takes two steps forward. He retrieves the white ball from the bag, gets into position, and leans down slowly. 

He isn’t anxious to enter the game at all. He adjusts the angle several times before lifting his head to look at me. 

Victor: If you lose, you’re not allowed to cry.

MC: Are you treating me like a child?

Right after the words leave my mouth, the two balls that are hit roll outwards with a “ping”. One rolls into the middle bag, and one rolls into the bottom bag. 

At the same time, he stands in position without a hint of hesitation, and strikes. The “ping ping” sounds of impact reverberate continuously in the room--

I lean against the wall nervously, “appreciating” how Victor makes shot after shot, striking the balls into the hole.

His calm expression and skilful techniques completely strip the game of suspense. 

He stops his movements and looks at the watch on his wrist. He straightens up and arches an eyebrow towards me slightly.

Victor: Do you still want to continue? 

MC: Of course we’ll continue...

My words lack confidence, but I’m someone whose resolve will not die until I reach my goal...

Victor: Don’t waste time. Let’s set new rules. The one who gets the black ball in first wins. 

Victor lets MC go first, but she starts feeling nervous

Victor: Want to admit defeat? 

MC: Not at all...

After a pause, I say what’s in my heart.

MC: I can’t win against you.

Suddenly, a familiar scent surrounds me. 

Victor leans over, pressing himself against my back, holding my cue stick with both hands. 

The cue stick controlled by Victor strikes the white ball cleanly. After a crisp sound of impact, the black ball rolls straight into the middle bag. 

Victor: Congratulations, your proposal has passed. 

Victor’s low voice is at my ear, tinged with a smile. 

Not knowing if I should be happy or not, I mutter softly.

MC: This can hardly be called winning...

Victor: I didn’t say that you won. I already passed your proposal last night. You didn’t check your e-mail after work.

Victor’s breath descends on the side of my neck, bringing with it a ticklish residual heat and water vapour. His embrace limits my movements, and my line of sight is confined to the frizz on the billiard table. 

MC: ...

Victor: This round of creativity is indeed very risky. If you lose against the market-

MC: I will win!

Without waiting for him to finish, I cut him off. 

MC: If it fails, I’ll double this year’s revenue!

I express my attitude decisively. Victor suddenly lowers his head and leans even closer. 

The sudden closing of distance magnifies every small detail between us. I can smell his cool and clear scent, and hear every one of his steady breaths. 

Victor: I’ll wait and see. 

Victor’s body temperature seeps through his thin shirt, covering my slightly trembling back. 

Flustered, I try to turn around. Just as I turn my head, my cheek is pressed against his chin. 

At this moment, the doors are suddenly flung open. Mr Sheng and a group of others are chatting heartily and about to enter the room. Seeing Victor and I, they pause. 

Realising in shock that the position Victor and I are in appears too intimate, I hurriedly squirm out from under his arm, and stand at a corner silently. 

On the other hand, Victor calmly straightens up, looking straight at the audience.

Mr Sheng gives me a knowing smile. There’s even a bit of unexpected fondness in his eyes...

Mr Sheng: CEO Victor, I was going to introduce you to two friends who just returned from Wall Street.

Victor retrieves his business card from his pocket, and a small hairpin falls onto the ground. 

It’s a red hairpin with a small bowknot on it. There are even two coloured diamonds embedded on the bowknot...

Everyone’s attention is focused on the hairpin. 

At that moment, a sentence flashes across my mind: I’m doomed.

With a blank expression, he stoops down to pick up the hairpin, and looks at me without a trace of surprise. 

Victor: When did you put this into my pocket? 

Sensing the playful glances from the crowd of onlookers, my cheeks flush involuntarily. 

MC: I... don’t remember the specific moment, but I did it when you weren’t paying attention...

Victor knits his eyebrows, revealing a perplexed expression. 

Victor: Another gift for me? 

MC: Yes. 

After speaking, I have a “since I’m going to die, I might as well make it worth it” attitude, and continue.

MC: You can use this hairpin to clip up your bangs. I think it’s quite practical when used during work...

Even though I’m certain that I’m speaking in a volume only Victor and I can hear, everybody’s teasing smiles make me feel uneasy...

Victor has maintained the reputation of a thousand-year iceberg for so long. I’m afraid it has been ruined by my hands on this night. 

Victor: What nonsense are you thinking about the entire day...

While saying this, Victor puts the small hairpin back into his pocket. 

Victor’s reputation is still a formidable one. Even if Victor doesn’t explain himself, the gossip of the onlookers end as soon as he takes out his business card. 

All the way till the end of dinner, I obediently maintain a smile, not daring to mention the hairpin to Victor. 

On our way home, after much rumination, I decide to give Victor a solemn apology. Before the apology leaves my lips, Victor brings up the topic. 

Victor: I accept your goodwill entirely. Could you stop giving me gifts now? 

I nod reluctantly, but still struggle with my apology. 

MC: I’m sorry about what happened today...

Victor: What are you sorry for? 

MC: For making a fool out of you in front of so many people.

Victor: No one will think that way.

Victor adjusts the cuffs of his suit with a calm expression on his face. 

It’s as though what happened just now was really not enough to pose an issue to him.

~

After a few days, MC appears before Victor with a exquisitely wrapped present

👀

It’s a 32 page business report...

It contains data from the company’s monthly financial reports, business index data, word-of-mouth surveys from large-scale programs, market share, etc. ever since LFG started funding MC’s company

MC: All the data reflects that our company has had good business this year. We not only filled in the losses, but our profit margin was also 50% higher than expected. 

Victor: So? 

MC: It shows that you have a good eye, and have once again made a successful investment!

I expected him to simply cast a sweeping glance at it. Instead, he starts flipping through the report seriously after hearing my words. 

Every rustle of the paper flipping makes my heart rattle.

I start feeling nervous for no reason, worried that he would be as he usually is, picking out all sorts of mistakes from the report, and fiercely criticising me. 

After some time, he finally closes the report. 

Victor: Not bad. 

MC: ...

MC: !!!

Victor: What kind of an expression is that?

MC: I’m happy! Only a few gifts I gave you received praise...

Victor pulls open a drawer. While he places the report inside, he takes out a few items at the same time and puts them on the desk. 

A salon card, a red hairpin, essential oil for sleep...

Victor: You want me to compliment these things?

I huff, feeling a little guilty. 

MC: I... shall return to my office then? 

Victor looks as though he’s about to say something, but his phone rings. I stand up quietly, silently gesturing an “I’m leaving” with my hands.

Victor: Wait. 

Right after taking two steps, Victor stops me. 

Victor: I’ll pick you up at 6pm.

I turn around to see him covering the bottom half of the phone. I hurriedly nod, and suddenly think of something. 

MC: Have you started using the puppy apron? 

Victor tosses me a glance. After a few seconds of silence, he continues with his phone call. 

Fine...

I’ll record this as an addition to the “Victor Not Saying What He Truly Feels” series.

-

Phone Calls: First // Second