#but there’s something in the way his own focus on his intellect and books focus on emphasizing his intellect make him seem like.

[wellnoe]

i am obsessed w thinking about o5 butch lesbian cyclops now. bobby. her friendship w warren. *waves hand at everything w jean*

[katsu28]

Hi, I really like your writing! I had an idea for a fic with Lando. He left school really young (he got tutored privately afterwards according to wikipedia) and mayhaps that could make him feel insecure or something along those lines if he has a significant other that is in university, maybe studying to get a bachelors or masters degree. School is not everything and does not accurately measure intelligence or anything else but it is still a standard that most people hold and compare themselves too. It's something that I know all to well, which is where this idea came from. Whatever you do with it thank for reading it!💖

thank you for trusting me with your idea <3

lando norris x reader, r is in an unspecified master's program, 1.5k.

Lando loves how smart you are.

He tells you all the time. When you’re stressed from the intensity of your master’s program, nervous about an exam, or most of the time, just randomly. He’s proud of you for taking on something he definitely doesn’t have the brains for, and for absolutely crushing it so far. 

He left school before even completing his GCSEs in year 10, just so he could focus on racing full time—a decision he’d never regret, but always wondered about.

What would his life have looked like if he hadn’t devoted it to pursuing a career in racing? Would he have finished secondary school? Made it to university?

He doesn’t even know what he would’ve studied. 

Granted, he was never really good at school to begin with, but things could’ve changed. Now don’t get him wrong, he would never change a thing, but that didn’t mean he never thought about what might’ve been. 

So yes, Lando loves how smart you are, but if he’s being honest with himself, it does make him feel a little insecure about his own intellect.

-------

Lando finds you in your workspace when he gets home from padel with Max. 

He’d turned one of his guest rooms into a sort of office slash study space for you when you moved in with him all that time ago, a place where you could get your work done in a quiet environment whenever you needed to. The space itself was one of the smaller rooms, but still bigger than you were used to, and decorated to perfection too. 

A standing desk with an ergonomic chair (better for your neck and back, he’d said, so you weren’t hunched over your books all the time), a smart blackboard on one wall for any necessary brainstorming, a comfy chair in another corner—all overlooking the Monte Carlo cityscape from massive floor to ceiling windows. Everything else has been up to you, but Lando wanted nothing but the best for his smart girl. 

He pads in silently, making his way over to where you're furiously typing at your computer to press a kiss to your cheek. You flinch a little, startled out of your own world at the action. Your eyes fly to his, wide, before your posture relaxes again. 

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” You breathe, giving him a short kiss on the lips this time. 

“Didn’t mean to make you jump like that, darling. My bad,” He chuckles. He leans over your shoulder, squinting at the diagrams on your screen. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, it’s—” You pause, flicking through a few pages of the textbook next to your computer. Your lips twist to the side in thought, and then you smile at him in what he’s sure you meant to be an assuring way. “Nevermind, you probably wouldn’t get it.” 

He knows you don't mean it as a dig or anything, but the brush off ignites a bitter taste on his tongue. And if there’s one thing about Lando, it’s that he feels everything extremely strongly. “Well I’m sorry, not all of us can be geniuses.” 

“Pardon?” You look genuinely stunned at his outburst, at this huge 180 degree turn his mood has taken within the last few seconds.

Then he can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth next. “I get it, alright? ‘Lando doesn't know what I’m talking about, let’s make Lando feel dumb!” 

He storms off before you can process his stinging words, but even then, the anger that had just flared up in him has already dissipated. Lando knows all of it comes from a place of insecurity, that little nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him that even though he’s happy where he is, happy doing what he does for a living, he could’ve made something different of himself. 

You leave him alone for a while before coming to find him, presumably to let him cool off. He feels awful about what he said now. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, doesn’t know why he said it. It’s not like he meant it. 

A knock from the doorway of the bedroom draws him out of his guilty thoughts, and he looks up to see you hovering just behind the threshold. He hates how you look hesitant to approach him. 

You press your lips into a thin line once his gaze meets yours. “Can we talk about what just happened?” 

“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.” 

“It’s obvious you’ve been holding onto those thoughts for a while, so no, Lando, it’s not nothing.” 

“I don’t wanna fight,” He mumbles, eyes glued to his fiddling fingers. You seem to notice his sudden quietness because your expression softens as you cross the room to sit next to him. 

“We’re not fighting. You’ve got something on your mind, and I want to know so I can help,” You reply, shifting to face him. He can tell how you're trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “Please let me help.” 

Lando chews on his bottom lip, unsure. You say you want to help, but he's worried that if he tells you what's really going on, you’ll think it's silly. It is silly, really, him feeling insecure because of how smart you are. But if he doesn't tell you, you’ll think he doesn't trust you, and he does trust you. He trusts you with everything. 

Then you say his name again, softer this time, and you’re looking at him like you’ve done something horrible, and he sighs. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to be your boyfriend. You get all excited about your research when you talk about it,” He sighs, shrugging clumsily, “and I want to understand it because I wanna be able to get excited about it with you, but I just don’t get it. And it makes me feel stupid.” 

“I didn’t—Lando, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to, I—” 

He shakes his head forcefully, grabbing both your hands in his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel stupid. It’s my problem, really. I just…I’m not really known for my brains, yeah? Came to terms with that a while ago.” 

“You’re smart, Lan,” You insist, brows pinching in the middle. “You’re so smart, what’re you even talking about?” 

“We talking about the same person here? I never even finished school. Wasn’t too good at it before I left either.”

“There’s more than one way to be smart, y’know,” You continue. Lando tilts his head curiously, not unlike a puppy would. “You’ve got amazing people skills, you’re creative beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up, you’re well balanced with your emotions. Not to mention the amount of skill and strength it takes to do what you do everyday, at the level you perform at.” 

“No, but that’s different. I could never do what you do, remember all the stuff that you’ve had to.”

“And you think I could do what you do?” You ask, giving a disbelieving chuckle. “Genuinely, if I got put into the cockpit of your car, I wouldn’t even be able to start the bloody thing, let alone drive it the way you can when you’re being bombarded with information from all sides during a race. If you put me in front of a group of reporters, if I had to do even a fraction of the press appearances and sponsorship events you do, I’d probably shit my pants.”

Lando wrinkles his nose in slight disgust. “That’s nasty.” 

“It’s true though! I can’t do half the things you can, but that doesn’t make me any less smart. It just means we’re smart in different ways. So what you never finished school? School isn’t the only way to measure how intelligent you are. And Lando, you’re beyond intelligent.” 

His shoulders sag with the long sigh he releases, and he lists to the side, slumping over onto your lap. “Sorry for lashing out,” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your knee. He rolls over onto his back, gazing up at you with truly apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just being a dick.” 

You hum noncommittally, stroking a hand through his curls. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Lando, it’s alright.” 

“Yeah, but what I said was just mean, and I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking straight. You don’t deserve to be snapped at like that.” 

“Makes up for all the times I’ve snapped at you during exams, so…call it even?” You ask, leaning over him with a soft smile. 

“We’re even.” He lifts his head, craning to reach your lips, and you chuckle a little bit, but meet him halfway in a gentle kiss. 

It’s an I’m sorry kiss, a I forgive you kiss, a I’ll always support you kiss.

A no matter what you say, I’ll love you forever kiss.

This fact, Lando knows for sure, even though a little bit of him still thinks he’s not quite as smart as you.

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[rift-in-worlds]

Ratio knew what it was like to not be recognized for your efforts, in some sense.

For him, almost everyone in the universe had heard of his name and revered him for his genius intellect, but never the one he was most desperate for, the gaze of THEM. Of Nous. Almost all other pairs of eyes meant nothing to him, and as time passed he slowly gave up on the idea of being recognized by the Aeons.

A while after, he discovered the familiar feeling of desperation taking over his mind once again, to be recognized, to have the undivided attention… of you.

He met you through Aventurine, a chance encounter he was blessed with to now have you as an acquaintance, a friend of sorts. Your warm gaze meant far more to him than any Aeon’s ever would, for the way your eyes shone as you told him about your day and discussed the most menial details could invoke a spark in him even his sophisticated assortment of language skills couldn't describe in a century.

At this point, he couldn't even fathom how he functioned before meeting you.

He would listen to you for hours if he could, your voice so sweet in his ears compared to the idiots he always dealt with prior. Oftentimes Ratio finds himself playing his conversations with you in his head on repeat, to a worrying degree as his eyes traced over the same line on his complex book for the fourth time, unable to focus. With a groan, he set down his book on the soft sheets next to him, wishing you were there instead to greet him.

A glint of annoyance and something darker permeated his scarlet gaze as he recalled how you talked about Aventurine with such excitement a few hours before. Ratio’s eye twitched slightly in the silence of his room at midnight, only a small lamp for his reading that he couldn't even focus on.

He was pissed, quite frankly, and despite all of his 'unending' knowledge, he didn't know why.

Sure, you talked about Aventurine and meeting up with him all the time, so why only recently was it frustrating him? Perhaps it was the way you two seemed too close lately, even a brush of hands together would have him itching to rip Aventurine's arms away from your body and step in between you two as you walk. The fact that he and you met through Aventurine did tinge him with a little guilt when feeling like this, but he couldn't help it, he was hopeless when it came to you.

He didn't like to acknowledge the depths of his desperation, how you were right out of his grasp yet so close, and how he would do anything for you. He liked to deny this while in his own mind, shaking it off and labeling it something of a fool’s prospect.

Ratio knew this was wrong, the idea of you in his mind taking over, the thoughts of how he wanted to almost gouge out the eyes of any passerby who spared a glance at you for a second too long, how he wanted you to be his, for him to be able to hold you at the end of the night and listen to your soft whimpers as you called his name for hours, your honeyed voice hoarse in his ears as you begged for him-

he wasn't too proud of those last thoughts.

It was like withdrawal, he needed you in order to stay sane, or his usually composed mind went haywire. He can't pinpoint when this started, all he knows is that he might go insane if he doesn't have you.

Though not an Aeon by power or label, he still considered you to be a deity in his eyes, so you must be treated as such, and he found you way too forgiving and merciful to others, fearing they would take advantage of you. At this array of thoughts, he couldn't help but begin fashioning a plan in his head as to get you further away from Aventurine, which shouldn't be that hard.

All it takes is a little manipulation, a bit of miscommunication, you’ll vent all your little worries straight to him, and he'll be by your side to get you back on track.

To make you dependent on him, to make you need him as if he was the air you breathed. It would only be fair, seeing as you did this to him. You made him like this, and now he felt like he was suffocating.

This was the only way to protect you, the only way no one else would taint you.

He’ll see to it that your gaze remains on him and no one else, as nobody else deserves to be looked at by you, even if it means he must isolate you from all others. To get you to play into the palm of his hand…

Shouldn't be too challenging, he presumes.

[heizenka]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

♖ Spencer Reid x f!reader

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

— content warnings: usual criminal minds violence, murder, death

— word count: 1.5k

inspired by: loml by Taylor Swift

The BAU team had seen their fair share of gruesome crime scenes, but this one was particularly chilling. Y/N had been abducted three days ago, and now they found her body dumped in a remote warehouse on the outskirts of Quantico. Spencer Reid's heart sank as he approached the scene, his mind racing with a mix of dread and desperate hope.

Derek Morgan, his closest friend and confidant on the team, gripped Spencer's arm firmly as they neared the body. "Reid, stay focused," Derek murmured, his voice tinged with concern. "You can't go rushing in there. We have to assess the situation first."

Spencer nodded mechanically, his eyes fixed on Y/N's lifeless form lying amidst the cold concrete floor. Her face was pale, eyes closed as if in peaceful sleep, but the evidence of violence was stark—bruises on her wrists, a single gunshot wound to the chest. The scene was a tableau of horror, the silence broken only by the distant hum of police radios and the muffled voices of forensic technicians.

Hotch approached them with a grim expression. "We need to process the scene carefully," he stated, his tone clipped and professional. "Garcia is running the last known communications and surveillance footage. We might still catch a break."

Spencer nodded again, his mind racing with a flurry of thoughts and calculations. He was known for his intellect, his ability to piece together intricate patterns and profiles, but now all he could think about was Y/N—her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her presence that had become a constant anchor in his turbulent life.

Emily Prentiss, usually composed and stoic, placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, her voice wavering soft with sympathy. "We're going to find who did this, Reid," she assured him, her own eyes betraying the weight of their collective grief. "And we'll make sure they pay for what they've done."

But Spencer was barely listening. His attention was fixed on Y/N, kneeling beside her as if in a trance. He reached out hesitantly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "No," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "No, no, no. We can save her! We can save her! I can save her, please!"

Tears streamed down Spencer's face as he clutched Y/N's cold hand, his fingers trembling against her lifeless skin. The reality of her death crashed over him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and suffocating. He was supposed to be the one who solved puzzles, who found answers where others saw only chaos. But now, faced with the ultimate mystery—the senseless loss of someone he loved—he felt utterly helpless.

Derek knelt beside Spencer, pulling him gently away from Y/N's body. "Spence, she's gone," he said quietly, his voice filled with sorrow. "There's nothing more we can do here."

"No!" Spencer protested, his voice rising in desperation. "There has to be something! I can figure this out, I can find who did this!"

Hotch approached them, his expression grave. "Reid, we need you to focus," he said firmly. "We have a case to solve, and we need your mind clear."

But Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/N. Her face haunted him—her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about a new book she was reading, the warmth of her touch. They had shared late-night conversations, quiet moments of understanding in the chaos of their work. She had become his anchor, his reason for hope amidst the darkness they faced every day.

As the hours passed and the investigation progressed, Spencer retreated into himself. He answered questions mechanically, analyzed evidence with detached precision, but his mind kept returning to Y/N. The images of her lifeless body flashed before him, tormenting him with their finality.

That night, back at the BAU headquarters, Spencer found himself standing alone in Y/N's empty office. Her desk was cluttered with books and case files, a half-finished cup of coffee still sitting beside her computer. The room felt achingly silent, a stark reminder of her absence.

Derek found Spencer there, staring blankly at Y/N's desk. He approached cautiously, knowing that words alone couldn't ease his friend's grief. "Reid," Derek began gently, "I know this is hard. But blaming yourself won't bring her back."

Spencer turned to him, his eyes hollow with pain. "I should have been faster," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I should have figured it out sooner. Maybe... maybe she'd still be alive."

Derek shook his head, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "Spence, you did everything you could," he insisted, his voice firm yet compassionate. "No one blames you for this. We're a team, and we're going to find justice for her."

Spencer nodded silently, his throat tight with unshed tears. He knew Derek was right—that guilt was a burden he couldn't afford to carry. But the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of the life they had lost, of the future they would never share.

In the days that followed, the BAU worked tirelessly to track down Y/N's killer. Garcia sifted through mountains of data, and Emily coordinated with local law enforcement to canvas the area. But for Spencer, the investigation was more than just a case—it was a quest for closure, a way to honor Y/N's memory and the love they had shared.

As they pieced together the evidence, a pattern began to emerge. The unsub—a disturbed Jack Mconnell,  with a history of violence and obsession—had fixated on Y/N, seeing her as a symbol of everything he desired but could never possess. His delusions had driven him to commit unspeakable acts, until ultimately ending Y/N's life in a desperate bid to fulfill his twisted fantasies.

When the team finally identified the unsub and cornered him in a remote cabin, Spencer was among those who stormed in, his gun drawn and his heart pounding with a mix of rage and sorrow. The confrontation was brief but intense, ending with a single gunshot that brought Jack to justice. But for Spencer, the closure he sought remained elusive.

That night, standing alone on the balcony of his apartment, Spencer stared up at the stars. Their distant light seemed to mock him, reminding him of the vastness of the universe and the fragility of human life. He thought of Y/N—the way she had believed in him, the way she had made him feel seen and understood in ways he had never thought possible.

The tears finally came then, unchecked and unrestrained. He had always prided himself on his ability to analyze, to compartmentalize his emotions in the face of tragedy. But now, faced with the emptiness of Y/N's absence, he felt utterly and completely lost.

In the weeks and months that followed, Spencer struggled to find his footing. The BAU continued their work, chasing down new cases and unraveling the minds of criminals, but the team dynamics had shifted irreversibly. There was a void where Y/N had once been—a presence that had anchored them all, reminding them of the humanity they fought so hard to protect.

Garcia, ever perceptive and empathetic, made it her mission to check in on Spencer regularly. She brought him his favorite coffee, listened patiently as he rambled about obscure facts and theories, and offered quiet words of comfort when the weight of grief threatened to overwhelm him.

And Derek, unwavering in his support, stood by Spencer's side through it all. He didn't press for conversations or demand explanations. Instead, he simply remained present—a silent pillar of strength in Spencer's darkest moments.

One day, several months after Y/N's death, Spencer found himself standing at her grave. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the headstone engraved with her name. He placed a bouquet of flowers—a mix of lilies, her favorite—and knelt beside the grave, his fingers tracing the letters of her name.

"I miss you," Spencer whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Every day, I miss you."

He stayed there until the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, his heart heavy with the weight of his grief. But amidst the pain, there was a glimmer of something else—a determination to honor Y/N's memory, to carry her with him in everything he did.

And as he stood to leave, he made a silent vow to never forget—the love they had shared, the moments they had cherished, and the promise of a future that had been stolen away.

copyright 2021 heizenka, all rights reserved. I do not allow my creations to be published of translated anywhere else so please do not repost.

[ms-snape]

hey I noticed you haven’t done any Lucius Malfoy fics yet, and I’d like to request one if you’re open to it, the reader is a strong-willed witch who doesn’t fall for his usual charm? Lucius is used to getting whatever he wants, but the reader constantly challenges him, and it intrigues him in a way no one else has. Over time, Lucius starts to realize that he’s genuinely falling for her, and there’s a slow-burn romance as they go from tension-filled encounters to mutual respect, then love. Lots of witty banter, hidden vulnerability from Lucius, and a surprisingly soft, romantic confession at the end.

Title: Charm

Warning: None, lucius being lucius

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

---

The Ministry of Magic was a labyrinth of enchantment and bureaucracy, a place where power dynamics shifted like the tides. Y/n Y/l/n, a strong-willed witch and a respected potion master in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had learned to navigate its complexities with grace and determination. Her talent and hard work had earned her respect, but it was her unwavering spirit that truly set her apart.

As she walked through the bustling atrium, she could feel the gazes of her colleagues—some filled with admiration, others tinged with envy. Y/n had always found herself on the fringes, content to focus on her work rather than engage in the political machinations that often defined life at the Ministry. Yet, it was the whispers of a certain silver-blonde wizard that broke through her concentrated bubble.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Lucius Malfoy greeted her, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. He leaned casually against a pillar, the epitome of aristocratic elegance. “I must say, your dedication to your work is admirable. Most would have crumbled under the pressures of this place by now.”

Y/n glanced up, her brow slightly raised. “And yet here I am, standing tall,” she replied coolly, matching his tone. “Flattery won’t earn you any favors with me, Malfoy.”

“Flattery?” He chuckled softly, his icy blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I merely speak the truth. Your determination is commendable.”

Her heart raced as she held his gaze, the playful banter igniting something within her that she hadn’t expected. She had long since learned to see through his polished facade, understanding that behind the charm lay a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. But Y/n had never been one to succumb easily.

“Save your compliments for someone who might appreciate them,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m not interested in becoming another feather in your cap, Lucius.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by his usual composure. “Is that so? I find it refreshing, really. Most women seem eager to bask in my attention.”

“That says more about them than it does about you,” she shot back, walking past him with purpose. She felt the heat of his gaze on her back, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Days turned into weeks, and their encounters became a familiar rhythm, a dance of words and glances laced with underlying tension. Y/n would catch herself thinking of Lucius more often than she cared to admit. He intrigued her with his intellect, challenged her with his wit, and made her question her own perceptions of power and vulnerability.

Lucius, on the other hand, found himself drawn to her in ways he had never anticipated. The thrill of their verbal sparring ignited a fire within him, and he began to look forward to their encounters. No one else had dared to challenge him so boldly, and he found her spirit intoxicating. It was a contrast to the women he had known, who had often been content to admire him from afar.

One particularly dreary afternoon, Y/n found herself in the Ministry’s expansive library, surrounded by stacks of books as she searched for an elusive potion recipe. The dim light cast a warm glow over the dusty volumes, creating an atmosphere of quiet reflection. She was so engrossed in her task that she barely noticed Lucius approaching until she felt his presence beside her.

“Lost in thought again?” he asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

Y/n glanced up, suppressing a smile. “Just doing some research. What brings you here, Malfoy? Surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

He leaned against the table, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her. “I could say the same for you. Researching potions when you could be enjoying the finer things in life?” His smirk was infuriatingly charming.

“I enjoy what I do,” she replied defensively, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Not everyone needs the thrill of high society to find fulfillment.”

“Touché,” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But wouldn’t it be better to have a little fun? Life is far too short to be buried in books, even if they are as fascinating as you make them seem.”

Y/n straightened, her eyes narrowing. “You mean the kind of fun that leads to empty flirtations and false promises? No, thank you. I prefer to keep my life meaningful.”

Lucius’s expression softened slightly, his facade slipping ever so slightly. “I admire your conviction, Y/n. It’s refreshing to see someone who knows what they want.”

Their eyes locked, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, a spark of something deeper than mere attraction. But she quickly quelled it, reminding herself of the walls she had built around her heart.

As weeks turned into months, their encounters grew more charged. Lucius began to seek her out more frequently, often finding reasons to linger near her office or cross paths in the halls. Each meeting was a mixture of tension and exhilaration, a game of verbal chess where neither was willing to yield.

One day, as they walked through the Ministry gardens during a rare moment of respite, the sun filtering through the leaves, Lucius turned to Y/n with a seriousness that caught her off guard. “You know, there’s more to me than what you see on the surface.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing her interest. “Is that so?”

“Many view me as simply a wealthy, influential pureblood wizard,” he continued, his voice low. “But I’ve faced my share of struggles, Y/n. I’ve fought against expectations and the shadows of my past. It’s exhausting, and I wonder sometimes if anyone sees beyond the facade.”

Y/n felt a pang of empathy for him, understanding that beneath his charming exterior lay a man grappling with his identity. “I can relate to that,” she admitted softly. “I’ve often felt the weight of expectations myself. People assume they know me, but they rarely take the time to understand who I am.”

He paused, their eyes locking as a shared vulnerability lingered between them. “Perhaps that’s why I find you so compelling. You challenge me, push me to question who I am and what I truly want.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “A challenge?”

“Perhaps,” Lucius replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s more than that. I’m beginning to realize that I want to know you—really know you.”

Y/n’s heart raced, and she felt the heat of his gaze. “Lucius, this isn’t—”

“It’s not just a game,” he interjected, stepping closer. “I’m not asking for a fling; I’m asking for something real. I want to explore this connection we have, to see where it leads.”

His sincerity struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time, she felt the walls she had built begin to crumble. But fear still lingered, casting a shadow over her heart. “What if we ruin what we have?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we will face the consequences together,” he assured her, a determined gleam in his eyes. “But I’d rather take that risk than live a life filled with regrets.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer, the world around them fading away. Lucius’s heart raced, anticipation mingling with hope. He had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not now.

“Okay,” she said finally, her resolve wavering. “Let’s see where this takes us.”

With that, their relationship began a delicate transformation. They spent more time together, sharing moments both grand and intimate, navigating the complexities of their lives with newfound honesty. Y/n discovered layers to Lucius that no one else had seen—the thoughtful, introspective man hidden behind the mask of privilege and power.

In quiet moments, they would share laughter and stories, and Y/n found herself enjoying Lucius’s company more than she had ever imagined. He would often watch her with an intensity that made her heart race, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. In turn, Y/n began to see glimpses of vulnerability in Lucius, moments where he let his guard down and revealed the man he truly was beneath the polished surface.

But despite the growing bond between them, doubt occasionally crept in. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucius was still bound by the expectations of his past, the weight of his family legacy hovering over them. It was a nagging thought that made her question the foundation of their connection.

One evening, while attending a Ministry gala, Y/n stood by the window, gazing out at the stars. The ballroom buzzed with laughter and conversation, but she felt out of place amidst the opulence. Lucius approached her, his presence grounding her in a way that soothed her insecurities.

“Why so pensive?” he asked, his voice a low murmur as he joined her at the window.

“I don’t belong here,” she admitted, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. “These people… they don’t see me. They only see my title, my work.”

Lucius turned to face her, a seriousness etched on his features. “You belong here just as much as anyone else, Y/n. You’ve earned your place through hard work and talent.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, sincerity resonating in his voice. “You have a strength that commands respect. I admire that.”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest, a flutter of hope igniting. “Thank you, Lucius. That means more than you know.”

He studied her for a moment, the weight of his thoughts hanging in the air. “There’s something I need to confess.”

Y/n’s heart raced as she sensed the gravity of his words. “What is it?”

“I’m falling for you, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice steady yet vulnerable. “In a way that I never thought I could again. It terrifies me because I know my past is complicated, but you make me want to be better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart swell at his honesty. “Lucius…”

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone—not even Narcissa. You challenge me in a way that makes me want to shed my past and become someone worthy of you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she fought against the emotions flooding her heart. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either. You’ve surprised me.”

“Then let’s surprise each other,” he said softly, reaching for her hand. “Let’s build something real together.”

In that moment, the world around them faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them and the connection that had blossomed between them. Y/n felt a surge of warmth as Lucius intertwined their fingers, a gentle yet firm grip that spoke volumes of his intentions.

“Okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s take this journey together.”

With their hearts laid bare, Y/n and Lucius stepped into a new chapter of their lives, one filled with uncertainty but also hope. They faced challenges head-on, navigating the complexities of their emotions and the scrutiny of those around them. Together, they forged a bond that transcended the expectations of their pasts, proving that love could flourish even in the most unexpected places.

As the seasons changed, so did their relationship. They shared stolen moments in quiet corners of the Ministry, laughter echoing in the hallways as they exchanged witty banter. Lucius began to show her the parts of himself he had long hidden, revealing his vulnerabilities and fears. Y/n, in turn, opened up about her aspirations and dreams, her passion for potions igniting new conversations between them.

One crisp autumn evening, as they walked through the vibrant foliage of the Ministry gardens, Lucius paused, his expression serious yet tender. “Y/n, I want to take this to the next level. You’re not just a challenge anymore; you’re the woman I want by my side.”

She stopped, her heart racing as she searched his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you, truly,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m ready to leave the past behind and build a future together.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes as his words washed over her, a wave of relief and joy flooding her heart. “Lucius, I… I want that too.”

In that moment, surrounded by the golden hues of autumn, they embraced their love fully, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them. Lucius brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze softening as he leaned closer. “Then let’s make it official.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion mingling with excitement.

Lucius smiled, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I mean, I want you to be my partner in every sense. I want to show you off, to declare to the world that you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled with warmth, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a joyful sound that echoed through the garden. “I would like that very much.”

“Then it’s settled,” he declared, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. “Prepare yourself, Y/n Y/l/n, for a life filled with love, laughter, and perhaps a little mischief.”

And as they walked hand in hand, Lucius realized that he had finally found what he had been searching for—a love that was genuine, transformative, and utterly real. In Y/n, he saw the reflection of a future he had never dared to dream of, one where they could conquer the world together.

[supernaturallyedsheeran]

Sanctuary in the Shadows

SYNOPSIS: Your out on a hunt with the boys when hell breaks loose and you're hurt - Sam stays by your side while Dean fights; strengthening the emotions that had fluttered between the two of you for far too long.

WORD COUNT: 1187

PAIRING: Reader x Sam

INCLUDES: Sam x Dean x YOU, kissing, implied sex

CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam x Reader

FANDOM: Supernatural

You never thought you’d find yourself in a cabin deep in the woods, surrounded by the heavy scent of aged pine and the faint hum of machinery that kept the cabin lights on - hidden from the world around it. But fate has a funny way of twisting your paths, and here you were, with Sam and Dean Winchester—heroes and hunters in their own right, grappling with the darkness that threatened to swallow our world whole.

The boys had become your sanctuary; where the weight of each mission eased just a fraction; as you always had them to lean on in times of need.

 For months now, you’d been tracking down a particularly vicious nest of vampires, who seemed to elude you at every turn. It was in those quiet moments, when the adrenaline of the hunt had subsided, that you find yourself noticing things—especially Sam Winchester.

Sam was the quieter of the two brothers, his presence a mix of determination and vulnerability. His hazel eyes held depths you can't quite fathom, and his voice, when he speaks, carries a soothing tone that masked the horrors he'd seen. You’ve always admired his brains, the way he can decipher ancient texts and unravel the most ancient of mysteries with a calm focus that borders on obsession.

But it's not just his intellect that draws you in. There's a kindness in him, a gentle strength that makes you feel safe even in the face of danger. He's saved your life more times than you can count, and each time, his concern is visible, his touch a fleeting reassurance that lingers long after the danger has passed.

Tonight, however, danger struck closer to home. You were preparing for what you hoped would be the final fight with the vampires. Dean was checking his guns, his movements swift and purposeful. Sam was hunched over an ancient book, brow furrowed in concentration; meanwhile you were trying to help Dean wrap up when it happened—a sudden crash, followed by a searing pain in your side.

You stumble back, clutching your abdomen where a piece of debris had pierced through your shirt. Sam was by your side in an instant, his hands gentle yet urgent as he assessed the wound. Dean's voice cuts through the chaos, barking orders to barricade the entrance and arm yourselves.

"We'll take care of this," Sam assures you, his voice a steady anchor in the whirlwind of panic. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he helps you to a makeshift cot, his concern etched into every line of his face.

As he tends to your wound, his fingers brushed over your skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine, you find yourself overwhelmed by emotions you’d previously tried so hard to suppress. The fear of losing him, the gratitude for his unwavering presence, and something else—a longing that you’d buried deep within, afraid to acknowledge.

The hours blur into a haze of pain and exhaustion as you pass in and out of consciousness.

 Sam reclaims his spot by your side after helping Dean barricade the doors; his aura a calming presence amidst the chaos that raged outside the cabin. He cleans and dresses your wound with meticulous care, his hands steady despite the tension that hangs heavy in the air.

"Thank you," you manage to whisper as he finishes bandaging you up, your voice hoarse with pain.

Sam's gaze meets yours, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside falls away, leaving only the two of you in this dimly lit bunker. His expression softens, and you see something flicker in his eyes—a reflection of the emotions swirling within you.

"You don't have to thank me," he replies quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We look out for each other, right?"

His words pierce deep, echoing the unspoken bond that has grown between you—a bond forged in blood and shared hunts, in moments of vulnerability and quiet understanding.

As the night wears on, the sounds of gunfire and shouts echo through the cabin, a stark reminder of the battle raging just beyond the walls. But in this small corner of the world, amidst the books and the relics of the past, you find solace in Sam.

When dawn breaks, casting a pale light through the cabin’s narrow windows, the battle is over. The vampires are dead, most scared away, their threat extinguished for now. Dean emerges from the fray, battered but triumphant, and offers a weary grin as he claps Sam on the shoulder.

"We did it, Sammy," he says, pride and relief mingling in his voice.

Sam nods, his eyes briefly meeting yours in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. There's a weightlessness in the air, a sense of accomplishment mixed with lingering tension and unspoken words.

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Later, when the adrenaline has faded and the wounds—both physical and emotional—are tended to, Sam finds you in the quiet corner of the bunker where you’d retreated to, to collect your thoughts. He sits beside you, the closeness of his body, quickening the pace of your heart.

"Hey," he begins softly, his gaze steady and searching. "Are you okay?"

You meet his gaze, feeling a surge of courage as you gather your thoughts. " I think I will be," you admit, your voice wavering slightly.

Sam's expression softens, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I'm glad," he murmurs, his voice calm.

There's a moment of silence between you, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of shared experiences. Then, without thinking, he reaches out, his hand finding yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and reassuring, and in that simple touch, you find a sense of belonging you never thought possible.

"I... I care about you" he confesses, the words tumbling out in a rush of honesty.

Sam's gaze meets yours, his eyes searching you with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I care about you too," you reply softly.

Sam leans in without hesitation as his lips, soft and warm, press against yours. Without a second thought, you crash into him, parting his lips with yours, allowing his tongue to entangle with yours, as his body, pressed against yours, allows you to feel his heartbeat through your chest, against your own.

Seconds feel like minutes as your head spins, both of you smiling through the kiss, Sam biting your lip playfully. He pulls away.

“What do you say we–” He starts to speak, but he bites his lips and smiles, looking down into your eyes. “Yes” You say without hesitation Sam takes your hand and pulls you gently from the couch, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for another deep kiss. As he pulls away one last time, his charm melting your heart, he leads you down the hall into his room.

As the hours passed, you return to some semblance of normalcy within the bunker walls; grateful for the path that lead you into Sam’s arms.

For in the shadows of the bunker, amidst the trophies of battles fought and won, you had found your sanctuary—and your heart belongs to Sam Winchester.

[thelifeofanother-mc]

My Character Study Of Marisa Coulter

*GIF is not mine*

Why Marisa Coulter is One of the Most Intriguing Characters in His Dark Materials

Marisa Coulter is a character who captivates and amazes. From her intelligence and ambition to her complex relationships, there’s something magnetic about her presence in His Dark Materials. She’s not just an antagonist; she’s a deeply layered figure who constantly walks the line between power and vulnerability. For me, Marisa’s story is one of survival, sacrifice, and strength. Traits that make her so much more than the cold, manipulative figure she often appears to be. Here’s why I find her so compelling.

Her Ambition and Intelligence

Marisa’s brilliance is undeniable. She isn’t just a woman climbing the ranks of a male-dominated institution. She’s the first woman to wield real power and influence within the Magisterium. Her intelligence is her weapon, and she uses it with precision. One of my favourite lines from her is when she tells Boreal, “Once you understand something, you can master it.” This sums up her approach to power perfectly; she studies and dissects the world around her, using her knowledge as a means to rise above the constraints placed upon her.

Her ability to control the Specters is a perfect example of this mastery. When she faces them, she isn’t afraid because she knows exactly what she needs to do to command them. This level of confidence and control shows just how formidable her intellect is, and it’s one of the many reasons why the Magisterium both needs and fears her. They recognize her brilliance, but they also understand the threat she poses if she ever becomes too powerful.

The Magisterium’s Control Over Her Projects

Even when Marisa reached high levels of power, the Magisterium still maintained control over her. Even her own projects, like the League of St. Alexander from The Book of Dust, were ultimately under their influence. Later Bolvangar, was meant to further their agenda, and I believe this was how they kept Marisa in line. By allowing her to think she had autonomy while still pulling the strings behind the scenes, they ensured she remained a tool within their power structure.

This dynamic shifted when the Cardinal was replaced. In the show, we see how Marisa no longer needs to prove her intelligence to the same extent because she starts to gain control over Father McPhail. She manipulates him, and in doing so, begins to wield her power differently. With this shift, Marisa’s focus changes; she no longer fights for Bolvangar as she once did. Instead, she concentrates solely on Lyra, showing that her priorities evolve as she gains more leverage within the Magisterium.

Her Relationship with Asriel

Marisa’s relationship with Asriel adds a complicated and often painful layer to her character. There’s a deep, undeniable connection between them. A passion and intensity that transcends the usual constraints of society. Asriel is one of the few people who truly sees her and values her for her intelligence and ambition. In many ways, he provides the love and validation she so desperately needs, something she never received from her family or society. As hinted or what I took as hints with her confrontation with Lee Scorsby in the show.

However, their relationship is also marked by power struggles and conflicting ambitions. Marisa and Asriel are both fiercely independent and driven, and while this makes them a powerful pair, it also means they are constantly in conflict. Even if Marisa hadn’t been tied to Edward Coulter, I don’t think their story would have been one of happy endings. They might have had a different beginning, but ultimately, their individual ambitions and uncompromising natures would have driven them apart. Which is a major reason why I wouldn't write any fanfic of them ending up together.

Despite this, the love they shared was real, and it leaves a mark on Marisa’s life and choices. Asriel is the one person she let herself be vulnerable with, and his departure, and her inability to follow him due to her marriage and societal constraints. Left her more determined but also more guarded. It’s as if she locked that vulnerability away, knowing that to survive and thrive in her world, she had to harden herself against the emotions she once allowed herself to feel.

*GIF not mine

Her Complexity and Vulnerability

Marisa Coulter is often seen as cold and calculating, but beneath that exterior lies a depth of vulnerability. She’s constantly navigating a world where any sign of weakness could be exploited, and so she compartmentalizes her emotions, using her intellect and power to shield herself. However, there are moments where her mask slips, revealing the pain and conflict she carries.

One of the most distressing aspects of her character is her relationship with her dæmon, the golden monkey. In the series, we see her speak to him as if she’s talking to a part of herself, almost as if he’s her emotional outlet, a way for her to express feelings she otherwise will not allow herself to confront directly. In these moments, her vulnerability is palpable. She acknowledges that while she remains composed on the outside, her dæmon bears the burden of her pain and trauma, acting as a buffer between her and her emotions.

Her complexity is further highlighted in the scene where she believes Lyra is dead. It’s one of the rare instances where Marisa allows herself to truly break down, revealing the depth of her love for Lyra and the anguish she feels. It’s a reminder that no matter how composed she tries to be, her emotions are still there. Buried deep, but powerful.

Her Role as a Mother

Perhaps the most intriguing and tragic aspect of Marisa Coulter is her role as a mother. Her relationship with Lyra is complicated, filled with both love and control. Marisa’s maternal instinct is powerful; she genuinely cares for Lyra, but she struggles to express it in a way that isn’t tied up in manipulation or ambition. It’s as if she doesn’t know how to love without trying to control, a reflection of the control she has experienced in her own life from figures like the Magisterium and, I assume, her parents and brother.

I believe that if Marisa had been given the choice to take custody of Lyra after Asriel’s court hearing, she would have wanted to say yes. There’s a part of her that deeply loves Lyra and longs for a true connection with her daughter, a chance to break free from the influence of others and start anew. It would have been an opportunity for Marisa to prove to herself that she could be more than just an agent of the Magisterium—that she could be a mother who protects and nurtures her child.

I also suspect that she wouldn’t have been allowed to say yes. Marisa’s mother and brother, I assume, along with the Magisterium, would have intervened. They controlled so much of her life and her decisions, ensuring she remained a tool within their power structure. For Marisa to have taken custody of Lyra would have meant rebelling against the very systems that held her in place, and they likely would have seen that as a threat to their control.

Marisa’s knowledge of the prophecy (as mentioned in the Book of Dust)—without understanding its details—would have complicated her decision. Knowing that there was a prophecy involving Lyra but not having the full picture, Marisa might have felt that keeping Lyra close could be dangerous. The uncertainty surrounding the prophecy could have added another layer of fear or hesitation, making it even harder for her to make that choice freely. As much as she would have wanted to keep Lyra, the forces working against her and the mystery of the prophecy would have made it nearly impossible, forcing her to choose between her own survival and the love she had for her daughter.

Why I Avoid the Show’s Timeline in Fanfiction

While the show’s portrayal of Marisa Coulter is brilliant, I choose to avoid writing fanfiction within its timeline. The reason is simple: the show, with its writing, acting, and execution, feels complete and perfect as it is. There’s nothing I feel I could add or change without disrupting what has been so masterfully done. Instead, I find myself drawn to the questions and mysteries surrounding Marisa’s backstory.

I prefer to explore who she was before the events of the show and how she became the woman we see. Her past is full of unanswered questions—her early years, her marriage to Edward Coulter, and the dynamics with her parents and brother. These gaps give me the freedom to imagine and expand on her character without altering the integrity of the show’s timeline.

I also enjoy imagining a future for Marisa beyond the show. Once, I even wrote about her emerging from the Abyss because I needed to explore the possibility of what her life could be like after everything she had endured. These scenarios allow me to dive into her character in ways that feel true to her spirit while respecting the show’s narrative.

One of the most remarkable aspects of Marisa Coulter’s character is how perfectly she was brought to life on screen. The casting of Ruth Wilson was nothing short of genius. She gave everything to the role, capturing Marisa’s intelligence, complexity, and vulnerability in a way that felt raw and authentic. Ruth’s performance brought such depth to Marisa, making her not just an antagonist but a deeply human character with layers of emotion, pain, and ambition.

Every scene with Ruth Wilson as Marisa is mesmerizing; you can feel the weight of her decisions, the struggle in her eyes, and the power she wields through even the smallest gestures. She manages to convey all of Marisa’s contradictions—her cold control, her desperate need for love, and her fierce determination to survive. It’s as if Ruth Wilson understood Marisa’s essence on a fundamental level, and she delivered a portrayal that will be unforgettable for fans of the series.

Ruth’s performance has allowed me to explore and connect with Marisa’s character in a way that goes beyond the pages of His Dark Materials. She didn’t just play Marisa Coulter—she became her, and that’s a testament to her extraordinary talent. It’s rare to find a character so complex, and even rarer to find an actor who can do justice to that complexity. Ruth Wilson’s Marisa is nothing less than iconic.

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Arcane Agere ໒ ˚⁎

I was wondering if i could request cg!Viktor (arcane) headcanons?

•Viktor, despite his frail health, is fiercely protective of those he cares about. His sharp mind and relentless drive make him a formidable force, particularly when he sees someone he loves in danger. He might not be able to physically shield them, but he would use every ounce of his intellect and resourcefulness to ensure their safety—designing gadgets, traps, or even new forms of Hextech protection

•Given his background in science and his own health struggles, Viktor would have a deep knowledge of medicine and anatomy. He would be the type to carefully monitor the health of those he cares about, ensuring they have access to the best treatments and technology. His workshop likely contains various medical devices he’s created, tailored to specific needs, especially for anyone who has chronic conditions or injuries

•Viktor would go out of his way to tailor his care to the individual. Whether it’s designing a specific Hextech tool that helps with a unique challenge or creating a comfortable environment for someone recovering from an illness, Viktor's approach to caregiving is highly personalized. He believes that technology should be used to enhance quality of life, and he applies this philosophy to those he loves

•Viktor, despite his intense focus on his work, is incredibly gentle with those he cares about. He understands the value of emotional support and knows that sometimes, what someone needs most is encouragement. He’d take time to listen to their concerns and offer thoughtful advice, always from a place of understanding and empathy. Even in his darkest moments, he’d try to be a source of light for those he loves

•Viktor tends to put others before himself, often neglecting his own health and well-being. If someone he cares about is in need, he’d push himself to the brink to help them, even if it means exacerbating his own condition. This self-sacrificial tendency might worry those close to him, but Viktor sees it as a necessary burden—something he must do to protect those who matter to him

•Viktor would use his inventive genius to create small, thoughtful devices to ease the burdens of daily life for those he loves. For example, if someone struggles with anxiety, he might design a small, handheld device that emits soothing sounds or lights. For someone who works late into the night, he’d craft a lamp with adjustable light levels to reduce eye strain. These little inventions are Viktor's way of showing he cares

•Viktor understands the power of presence. Sometimes, he knows that words aren’t necessary, and he’ll simply sit with someone in comfortable silence. Whether it’s in his workshop or a quiet corner of Zaun, Viktor offers his company as a balm, understanding that his presence alone can be a source of comfort

•Viktor values intellect and curiosity, and he would encourage those he cares about to pursue their own passions and interests. He’d be the type to share books, discuss theories, or even mentor someone in the finer points of science and technology. Viktor sees knowledge as a gift, and he’d be generous in sharing it with those close to him

•He would likely keep detailed records of the health and well-being of those he cares about. He’d have files on their medical history, notes on their preferences, and even journals documenting their emotional states over time. While this might seem clinical, it’s Viktor’s way of ensuring he can provide the best care possible—by being as informed as he can be

•Viktor’s love and care are often shown in quiet, almost unnoticed ways. He might not be openly affectionate, but his actions speak volumes. Whether it’s fixing something before the other person even realizes it’s broken, or leaving little gifts of technology that make life easier, Viktor’s care is subtle but deeply felt

•Viktor has a special routine for putting themnto bed. Every night, he reads them a story from his collection of old Zaun tales, his voice soft and soothing. After the story, he uses a tiny Hextech device he created that projects calming, starry lights onto the ceiling, helping them drift off to sleep with a sense of wonder. He’ll always tuck them in just right, making sure they feel safe and snug before giving them a gentle goodnight

•When it’s mealtime, Viktor takes extra care in preparing food for the age regressor. He understands that during regression, certain textures and tastes can be comforting or distressing, so he always makes sure to prepare something they love. Whether it's cutting sandwiches into fun shapes or making warm soup when they’re feeling vulnerable, Viktor’s attention to detail makes every meal feel like an act of love. He even designed a spoon that changes colors when it’s too hot, to make feeding time a bit more playful and safe

•He’ll gather a collection of simple, safe materials and together they’ll create small gadgets or toys. Viktor patiently explains how each piece works, encouraging them to explore their curiosity. The look of pride on their face when they finish a project together is one of Viktor’s greatest joys. Sometimes, they’ll even design little robots that can move around, making the little one giggle with delight as their creation comes to life

•Viktor is incredibly patient and always there with gentle words of reassurance. If his sweetheart ever feels overwhelmed or scared, Viktor kneels down to their level, offering a warm smile and reminding them that they’re safe. He’s quick to scoop them up into a comforting hug if they need it, his hold gentle yet secure. His presence is a constant source of comfort, a steady anchor in their sometimes turbulent world

•Viktor loves surprising them with little inventions he makes specifically for them. One day, they might find a music box that plays their favorite tune, or a tiny Hextech creature that lights up and follows them around the room. Each surprise is crafted with so much care and love, and the regressor’s wide-eyed wonder and joy are the best rewards Viktor could ask for

•If his sunshine has a bad dream, Viktor is quick to respond. He’ll sit by their side, softly humming a calming tune, and gently stroke their hair until they’re ready to talk about what scared them. Viktor listens intently, offering comfort and reassuring them that everything is alright. He might even stay with them until they fall back asleep, or create a small device that projects soothing lights to chase away the lingering fear

•Viktor cherishes the quiet mornings when they wakes up. He’ll help them get dressed, choosing soft, comfortable clothes that they like. Breakfast is always a special time, Viktor prepares their favorite foods, and they eat together while Viktor listens to them excitedly talk about their dreams or plans for the day. He loves seeing their bright smile first thing in the morning; it’s the best way to start his day, too !

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[sflow-er]

To August anon 2

Sorry it's taken me so long to reply! I don't know if you'll even see this as I've decided not to risk the backlash of putting it on the main tag, but I hope you do.

[Earlier posts: August anon 1, August anon 2]

I want to curate the discussion a bit now that you've shifted part of the focus on Sara. I don't share your position of liking both her and August for being 'morally dark' people, and I fear it may be a bit jarring to any Sara fans reading this. So I've decided to screenshot your message and put it under the cut instead of replying directly.

We disagree on some fundamental things when it comes to August's and especially Sara's characterisation, and I doubt we're going to reach consensus. But that's okay! I'm just going to explain some parts of my POV below, and then we can agree to disagree. There are also a few areas where we seem to be getting our wires crossed (e.g. what we mean by 'understanding' the consequences) so I want to clear those up.

Most of this rambling essay was written before the S3 trailer came out, so I'm not focusing much on the glimpses we see of them in the trailer. But I am still using the spoiler tags just to be safe.

CW: negative take on Sara (but the anon actually likes her); couple of suicide mentions

Okay so... I'm going to start by clarifying a couple of things:

Understanding vs. understanding

Infantilising vs. taking young age into account

When I talk about August and the consequences, I'm not saying he lacks the intellect or analytical thinking to know/predict them. I'm saying he lacks the empathy and relevant frames of reference to understand them. I think we're just using the word 'understand' to mean different things - maybe internalise, empathise or relate would be a better choice for what I mean by it?

To revisit my previous example, August as an incredibly privileged member of the elite cannot understand i.e. relate to Simon's experience as someone whose ability to make his own reputation and get by on his own merit has been permanently affected by the video. As a very confidently straight man, he also cannot relate to Wille's experience as someone whose non-straight sexuality, a deeply personal and private thing that he wasn't even done figuring out, has suddenly been exposed to the world and potentially even some homophobic hate.

I'm not saying this to infantilise, defend, or excuse August. I'm saying it because to me, it partly explains why it's so easy for him to dismiss the harm to Simon and see his betrayal of Wille as just a matter of loyalty - the only moral code he knows - instead of something that would've been wrong no matter who the victim was. It's a thought pattern that stems from his upbringing and worldview, and it would have to be dismantled for him to feel proper remorse. Which I think would probably take professional help at this point.

(I agree with you that August would be extremely prejudiced against Boris. A glimpse of him googling therapy providers or booking an appointment for after graduation might feel more realistic to me - but I guess it depends on what the writers want to do with him. We already saw very quick progress with Wille in S2 so it's safe to say they can take some liberties.)

I still believe that August will lose his social status in S3, likely towards the end. But it's fair that you don't, and the trailer is certainly edited to support your position. If he retains his status, then you may be right about him remaining the same old asshole! If he does lose it, then my original point about him likely not being resilient enough to cope with the consequences still stands. He is very much the kind of person to whom suicide is the "proud" way out compared to the shame of losing everything.

Now, the age thing.

Respectfully, I think you may be ascribing too much meaning to August and Sara being of age in S2 (note that Sara was still 17 when she made the deal with August in S1). Eighteen is the age of legal adulthood, yes, but it doesn't make them fully grown and mature adults in the (neuro)biological, psychological or social sense.

[This feels like a good point to say that I am not going to try to account for Sara's neurodivergence here. I definitely don't have the insight, so if anything I've written below is in any way inaccurate or offensive to persons with AuDHD, please let me know!!]

Firstly, it's important to note that that the human brain matures gradually and unevenly. The prefrontal cortex i.e. the 'reasoning centre' only matures in the mid-to-late 20s, while parts that handle things like right/wrong, risk/reward, and emotional responses (e.g. the amygdala) mature earlier. This can cause teens and young adults to struggle with things like impulse control, assessing the long-term consequences of their actions, understanding others' emotions, and rational decision-making in situations that trigger a strong emotional response. Reason can get overtaken by emotion on a chemical level; sometimes the young person can't even fully explain afterwards why they did something they rationally knew was wrong all along.

[I don't think August was in a particularly analytical state of mind when he decided to post the video. He was an intelligent but emotionally unstable and empathically challenged 18-year-old who felt like he had nothing left to lose and the only moral code he knew (i.e. loyalty) was obsolete. He was also still stewing in the emotional turmoil of his humiliation and likely stuck in a negative feedback loop. It feels very plausible to me that he could be in a very bad place for a pretty long time and still function enough to plan his revenge (more on the revenge part below).]

Secondly, both August and Sara have also had some pretty traumatic experiences (Sara's bullying, August's dad's suicide, the influence of both their dads while they were still in their lives). These may have impacted their emotional and psychological development in various ways and created some thought patterns. Not to play arm-chair psychologist, but I don't think it's a coincidence August's decision to post the video is related to his family estate and legacy, while Sara's decision to make a deal with August is related to the threat of being sent back to Marieberg.

[This feels particularly relevant for Sara, whose bullying was brutal and long-term enough for her to have to repeat a year. The negative attention on Simon after the video probably seemed less severe in comparison, and also like a 'first incident' (in fact, she might have even felt like Linda was applying a different standard to Simon's ordeal compared to hers by immediately wanting to take them both out of Hillerska).]

[I vehemently disagree with Sara's idea that the damage to Simon was already done and it wouldn't have made a difference whether he knew who was responsible, but I think it matters to some extent that she didn't know the history between Simon and August. To her, the video probably seemed like something that was mostly between August and Wille. That idea was likely reinforced by August consistently dismissing Simon's side of it - and also by Simon seemingly moving on with Marcus and no longer being the talk of the school after Christmas. This kind of rationalisation may have even made Sara feel better about pursuing a relationship with August in S2.]

[I also think Sara probably felt like she had the right to be selfish after everything she'd been through. Simon's support during her bullying wasn't conditional; she didn't feel like she "owed him" any sacrifices. It was clearly Simon's idea to follow Sara to Hillerska, and she may have even felt like he was hovering a bit (I doubt S1E1 was her first time saying she was fine now and he didn't have to be there). Then, Simon started to keep secrets and even see Micke for reasons Sara didn't know, altering the terms of their relationship, while Sara was finally daring to dream of things she'd been denied for so long. Friends, a better future, even romance. To her, it felt extremely unfair to have to give all that up and go back to a school that was a nightmare to her but not to Simon. Especially when her and Simon's lives weren't as intertwined anymore and she finally felt like she was gaining some agency in her own.]

Thirdly (circling back to the point about maturity), it's good to keep in mind that both August and Sara are still in the high-school phase of life. A phase when most people are a bit selfish, and their past and current dramas and dreams for the future are everything to them. They haven't really acquired much experience or long-term perspective yet. So I really don't think we can call them that much more mature in the social sense than, say, Wilhelm and Simon. They are still messy teens living their messy teen lives, shaped by their upbringing and limited life experience, all the while thinking they are basically grown adults.

So am I saying all this to infantilise August and Sara and excuse their actions? I'm sure it sounds that way; hence, not putting this on the main tag.

But the way I see it, to infantilise them would be to say they weren't responsible for their actions or didn't know what they're doing. They are responsible, and they do know. All the factors laid out above (and also in my previous August posts) explain their reasoning and actions to some extent, but they do not excuse them. The fact still remains that they both applied their best judgment and deliberately chose to do the thing that they knew was wrong.

You're right that they took time to consider their decisions in S1, although I don't think we can know for sure exactly how long August takes. The timeline is a mess at that point; he is still at the Palace wearing the same outfit when the others make their statement, and I doubt he could've been there overnight. But he does take several hours in any case, and although he isn't thinking rationally at that point, he still knows what he's doing is wrong. In fact, he does it with the sole intention of hurting others, which makes it all the more reprehensible.

I just want to caution against labelling him as some evil, fundamentally unfeeling mastermind. He's just a very selfish and immature young man with a very warped view of the world, who needs to see some consequences for his own sake as much as his victims'. I think part of the reason we saw him turn so soft with Sara in S2 was to underline that he is capable of empathy and caring; it's just a matter of unlocking those emotions. They haven't exactly been nurtured growing up, so he is only applying them to the people he deems "worthy", instead of all his fellow human beings. That selective empathy is another thing he seriously needs to work on, alongside the lack of accountability.

As for Sara, she takes several days to consider what to do about the video, which makes her betrayal of Simon more severe. But as explained above, it's so much more nuanced than her not caring about him. (Or indeed her being some poor victim who didn't know what she was doing and fell in love with The Devil! Don't get me wrong, August definitely let her believe she was guiding him in a better direction, which may have even pushed some Micke buttons in her subconscious and/or memories of Simon's insistence that everyone deserves a second chance... But she still made her own decisions and is responsible for them.)

It's easy to forget that we do in fact see Sara aware that her actions are wrong even before the end of S2. She looks conflicted/unsure when she and August make out in S1E6, cries when Simon earnestly proclaims "I like you when you are you" and "I'm trying to be your friend again because I need you" after she has just betrayed him, and again looks conflicted when the siblings talk about loving the "wrong person" in S2E5. She did some very selfish things and hid them for much too long, yes, but I believe her regret is genuine. It will take some skilful writing to make her and Simon reconcile in a way that makes sense, doesn't feel rushed or reduce her to an archetype, and doesn't just magic away her leftover feelings for August (as those will probably take some time to clear out). But I do have faith it can be done.

So I think that just about covers what I wanted to say. This isn't a comprehensive essay by any means, and I'm sure it won't go down well with everyone. I also don't expect it to change your mind about these characters, anon, and that's okay!

I mostly just wanted to push back on the notion that Sara and August being 18 means all their bad decisions are now on par with bad decisions taken by fully grown adults and their character development is now set in stone. I highly doubt the show will end with them both proudly standing behind their poor choices - I can certainly see August doing that if he doesn't see any repercussions, but not Sara.

In any case, thank you for taking the time to explain your point of view on these characters, and sorry again for taking so long to respond!

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Science Camp Review

If you haven't yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into the Fire

Synopsis: It's the Summer of 1985, and Dustin is at Camp Know Where, eager to put his knowledge of science and mathematics to work. However, things take a turn for the worse when a mysterious stalker shows up and counselors begin disappearing. Now Dustin is in a race against time to figure out who the culprit is before the camp is closed for good........

Observations:

This is what I'm talking about: Here is a comic that takes certain elements from the show that were given little to no screentime, and proceeds to expand on them in a meaningful way. We get to see what Dustin did during his time at Summer Camp, as well as the circumstances behind meeting Suzie and developing their relationship. We also get an intriguing mystery that pays direct homage to the first Friday the 13th movie while also being its own story. And it's all from Dustin's POV. Yay! 😊

I know I usually wait until the end of my reviews to say whether I'd recommend a comic/tie-in book, but this time I'm giving that opinion early: This comic is a personal favorite, and I strongly recommend checking it out.

The comics I tend to enjoy more (i.e. Zombie Boys, Tomb of Ybwen, Winter Special, The Other Side, Dungeons & Dragons, etc) are ones that either focus on the main characters and their dilemmas, or take place in-between seasons to paint a picture of what was going on during those periods of time. Will's week in the Upside Down, for instance, is something I wanted to see for years, which is why I was happy they wrote a comic focusing exclusively on his POV during the events of season 1. Same thing goes for Dustin and his time at Camp Know Where: Even if it doesn't play an important role in the main arc, it's nice seeing the writers take an obscure event and expand on it so that it could fit into the continuity of the show. I wish they would do this more often instead of writing comics that either focus on characters nobody cares about (Troy and James from The Bully) or introducing brand new characters who will play no part on the show (Francine and Ricky from Six and Into The Fire).

It's nice seeing Dustin embrace his intellect at camp, as well as demonstrating other qualities that make him lovable on the show: His compassion for others, his awkwardness around girls, his bravery, his imagination, and so on. His continuing character development is a joy to watch: From being able to stand up to the bullies at the beginning of the comic.....

...to befriending Steven and getting him to come out of his shell.....

...to crafting his own D&D Campaign as Dungeon Master (something Mike's usually been in charge of in the past) and drawing on his own experiences to make it a fun adventure....

....to meeting Suzie at camp and bonding with her (despite a few awkward moments beforehand)....

....to even forming a party to take on the culprit.

Contrary to what the camp counselors say about the kids at the beginning, Dustin's never been interested in gaining knowledge to elevate his popularity, but because he's genuinely interested in topics that fascinate him. He's also someone with a strong moral compass and believes in doing the right thing even when it's tough. All of which works when he's the one leading the mission to root out the culprit who's causing problems at the camp.

Speaking of which, as mentioned earlier, the main conflict centers around an insidious figure who specifically targets camp counselors:

The mystery is taken straight from the first Friday the 13th movie, with a few plot elements changed around. There's even a tongue-in-cheek reference to the movie in the comic:

I won't give away the identity of the culprit or their motivations in case people want to read this comic for themselves, but I will say I was satisfied with how it ended.

Something else I liked was how they wrote the bullies. Early on, the counselors remark that since a lot of the kids coming to this camp are nerds, this is their first time getting to be on top of the social pyramid. Two of those kids (Trevor and Dean) act antagonistic towards Dustin and Steven initially, and it's their goading that leads Dustin to create his own D&D Campaign to spite them. However, to Dustin's surprise, they actually express interest in wanting to play his campaign because they secretly love the game and are implied to be outcasts back at home who are looking for friends who share their interests.

On top of that, when push comes to shove and there's a real danger of the camp being shut-down because of the attacks on counselors, Trevor and Dean willingly join up with Dustin to help track down the culprit, showing they care as much about the camp as Dustin does. It's small, but it gives some depth to them, and it's a nice subversion of the one-dimensional bullies from the show (*cough* Angela *cough*).

Suzie also gets her time to shine in this comic. They introduce her as being shy and awkward around Dustin when they first meet, but once they get to know each other, she becomes fiercely supportive of him and helps rally the other campers around Dustin. Their interactions in the comic are sweet, and they thankfully avoid using the cringe-inducing nicknames of Dusty-bun and Suzie-poo 😖. We also get to see what inspired the duet they sing in the season 3 finale:

I'm curious if the Duffer Brothers will bring back Suzie for season 5, and if she'll finally find out about the Upside Down. In the past, she's usually made brief appearances where she acts as a plot-device to give the characters vital information (Planck's Constant in season 3, or the coordinates to Dr. Owen's silo in season 4) while being left in the dark about what's really going on. I get the feeling she might serve that role again in the final season, but I'd be a lot more interested if they expanded her character beyond that role, and either have her integrate with the Party and get to know the other main characters better, or give her more depth beyond being Dustin's smart girlfriend and having a stereotypical Mormon upbringing.

As for Dustin, I don't know if he and Suzie are intended to be endgame or not. It could go either way. It depends on whether or not Suzie is clued into everything, or if Dustin even survives (I know people keep saying the Duffer Brothers don't have the guts to kill off their main characters, but considering it's the last season and they need to keep the stakes high, I am betting on several main characters biting the dust before it's over).

On a final note, I liked how the comic highlighted Dustin's relationship with Steve and why it's important to him:

If Dustin ends up dead in season 5, the emotional fallout from Steve is going to be devastating. Same for Dustin if Steve dies (which A LOT of fans have been predicting for years now ☹️.)

It all depends on what happens in season 5.

[scholars-of-nym]

Day 6. Halcyon

A young Setoto bounded down the stairs of her home. "Father! Father, look!"

Her father, Sesani Tosani, in his uniform - a scholar's garb - looked up from the breakfast table. "Setoto! Come, have breakfast. What is it?"

She'd brought a book downstairs, filled with seemingly-complicated diagrams, equasions and spells. The scholar's grimoire was a bit ahead of her knowledge, but she managed to figure out at least something! She took out the grimoire and went through the pages until she found the correct one, and started casting a spell.

Sesani shot up. "Oh, Setoto, be careful-"

-but it wasn't necessary. She managed to summon a little light - the step before a faerie, one that students without a soulstone could do. It floated gold slightly ahead of Setoto, and bathed her proud smile in a golden glow. "Look! Isn't this amazing?"

Sesani smiled and kneeled down next to her, feeling very proud. "Yes, sweetheart, it's amazing. I'm very proud of you. Next time, though, don't practice spells like this without supervision, okay? I'll help you."

Setoto nodded. "Okay!" She let go of the little light and it dissipated into the air. "When can we practice?"

"After I'm back from work, and you're done with school. I believe we're running late."

Setoto's eyes went wide and she quickly sat down to scarf down her breakfast. "Thanks for the food, dad!" she said with her mouthful, and Sesani just laughed. "Eat up, then we can go."

~

Setoto very much looked forward to getting into the Academy. It's not even an if anymore - she was certain she will. Setoto finally spotted her friend, carrying her own lunchtray. "Hanini!" Setoto waved her over.

Hanini quickly sat down. "Setoto, how was class?"

"Fine! Although that other teacher did not explain recitation well at all. I ought to ask my father about it later."

Hanini laughed. "Right? It almost seemed like he wasn't sure what he was talking about."

"How can that be? He's a decorated Scholar!" Setoto laughed. "At least I'm sure we'll know much more once we get our soulstones."

Hanini grinned. "Absolutely. Gods, I want a fairy of my own. By the way, which focus class are you planning to do? Battle, tactics, or healing?"

Setoto thought for a little. "I'm actually not sure. I'm thinking of tactics, like father, but if you asked him, he'd say I have a knack for healing. But that's just because I remind him of Mother." Setoto complained. "I wish I knew what to do."

"Frankly, why not both?" Hanini said inbetween shoveling food into her mouth. "You've got the grades for it. Maybe you can charm one of the professors with your intellect and convince them to give you extra homework."

Setoto laughed. "I'm sure that won't be easy at all."

Hanini chuckled. "If it wasn't you, I'd call you mad, but I have a feeling you can."

~

Sesani Tosani was beaming with pride at his daughter's graduation from preparatory school. "You've done so well, my dear." He hugged his daughter. "Now you're off to the academy… I couldn't be prouder."

She happily hugged him back. "Thank you, father. I'm so excited!"

"I'm sure you are. Now, why don't we get a toast? You're eighteen now, and I believe you've earned the champaigne."

"Really?" Setoto grinned. "Thank you, father! Oh, can I invite Hanini to the dinner?"

"Certainly. What about her parents?"

"They had to work." Setoto shrugged.

Sesani hmm'd. "Work, huh. Well, she's always welcome." he said with a warm smile. Setoto grinned and waved to her friend.

Hanini quickly came to their direction. "Hello, mister Tosani!"

"Hello, Hanini. Congratulations on your graduation." Sesani smiled.

"Thanks, sir!"

"Alright, now that that's settled, let's go get some food."

~

"I'm impressed," Surito Carito said, inspecting Setoto's spellwork. "The diagrams are highly accurate and, most importantly, stable. Well done."

Setoto beamed with pride, but Surito interrupted her before she could continue.

"However, miss Seto, while the diagram itself is excellent, you need practice with tactical placement. You took a long time to cast this, and it's vital to be able to cast with both accuracy and speed."

Setoto's smile fell and she nodded resolutely. "Yes, professor Carito."

"Good. Now, you said you also wanted to try healing?"

Setoto hesitated. "Yes, professor, I was wondering if -"

"Your father paid me a visit." Surito's warm brown eyes glittered with mirth. "My friend seems to believe that you have a knack for the healing arts, and believes you can be just as strong as your mother."

Setoto hesitated. "Well, perhaps. I'm unsure, if…"

Surito chuckled. "Ah, take your time, child. You have plenty of time to choose. Frankly, I'm of half a mind to change the curriculum to allow students more time to choose. Your father was very persuasive." he teased.

"Oh, professor…"

"Well, anyway, dismissed. Keep in mind what I said."

"Yes, professor!" Setoto packed her books to leave. "Thank you."

~

Setoto and Hanini out for drinks. "What do you think the perfect partner should be?" the red-haired lalafell teased. "I want them smart."

Setoto blushed. "Hanini, I don't have time for-"

"Of course you do! We're adults, and we're in the academy! We're surrounded by cute and smart. I'm sure there's someone out there for you. Now, tell me your type."

"Oh, I don't know, Hanini." She sipped on her drink. "Smart, yes, but also enthusiastic and passionate, I suppose. I don't like the, er, broody types."

"There you go!" Hanini grinned, "Passionate is defenitely a good trait to have."

"Hanini!" Setoto blushed harder. "Noo, not like that!"

Hanini burst out laughing at her friend's flushed face. "Amazing. You're not wrong though, we don't need to get someone right this second. We've got seas of time to figure that out." She lifted a glass in a toast. "To the future!"

Setoto smiled and touches her glass to Hanini's. "To the future."

[thewardenofwinter]

💔 please!

💔: give a brief character bio of your 3-5 MCs

Aw lawd, here we go again. Thank you Sam for the ask! OG post here for those who missed it.

🌊 Give No Quarter: The Marauder's Mutiny

𝒞𝒾𝓇𝒸𝑒

Circe (pronounced sir-sea) is a sorceress turned pirate who ravaged the Caribbean and North American coast in the latter half of the 18th century. Following the death of her mother six years prior to the book, Circe became hellbent on revenge for the people who drove her mother to madness. Circe, along with the captured pirate Adam Bonny, managed to escape both of their respective captive situations and flee to the Caribbean where he employed her as an undercover spy aboard his ship in exchange for his allyship and passage for her voyage. 

Circe is a mysterious and mystifying woman with the ability to captivate every person she meets— land or sea. She lives up to her namesake well, a truly powerful enamoring enchantress that will ultimately be the cause of your demise. Her bewitching beauty coupled with her sharp tongue and intellect allow her to get her way no matter what, and there are very few things she cannot execute (or get out of) without poise and precision.  

𝒜𝒹𝒶𝓂 𝐵𝑜𝓃𝓃𝓎

Adam Bonny, better known by his alias The Sea Devil, is an infamous English pirate and captain of the ship The Dread Anne and a prominent member of The League of Marauders. A failed promise, an ambush, a stolen map, and a mutiny among their faction leaves Adam and his allies in the hands of the French, captured inside of their fort and awaiting a noose around their neck in two weeks' time. But unlike his brothers at arms who’ve all but given up on the prospect of their freedom after all this time, Adam has never been one to give up easily: for better or for worse.

A true pirate in every sense of the word, Adam is a rowdy, greedy marauder with a certain charisma to him that captures people’s hearts. Constantly on the search for something new, his exploits drag him around the world while his arrogance and temper drag him into trouble. His charm and good looks may make up for his lack of basic morals, but his argumentative nature and quick temper tend to overtake any good traits he may or may not have.

⚰️ What We Undertake

𝒟𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝒞𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒

Dolores Clive is the only daughter of Elektra and Warren Clive and the owner of the Clive Family Mortuary, having been left to her after her father's death a year prior to the book taking place. When Dolores was thirteen Warren Clive remarried Rebecca Lynch who herself had a daughter named Rosamund, making the two step sisters.

Dolores lost her mother at eight years old in a carriage accident that injured her left leg, leaving her with a permanent limp that she aids with the use of a cane. She was also severely concussed, taking a blow to the let side of her head that resulted in sever anisocoria in her eye. Ever since this incident, Dolores has been left with the strange ability to see and sometimes even communicate with the dead.

🗡️ The Resurrectioners

𝒮𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒶 '𝑀𝒶𝓇𝒶' 𝒟𝑜𝓂𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾

(TW: s*icide)

Samara Dombroski, better known by her nickname Mara, is the POV character of The Resurrectioners. Samara grew up in Pittsburg alongside her father, a lawyer, and her mother, a phony fortune teller. Her oldest sister, Helena, was three years older than her and was suspected to have schizophrenia and her younger sister Cassandra was diagnosed with autism. Samara was largely ignored by her parents due to them having to focus on caring for her sisters. Samara being the only 'normal' child who did not need help was left to raise herself.

Following her father dying of lung cancer and the deaths of her two sisters in a freak car accident, Samara successfully makes an attempt on her own life but later finds herself every much alive and trapped in a large estate populated by other people who share her same story. Following her resurrection, Mara has been gifted with the ability to see into the past of a person or object via physical contact.

Whew, and that's not even half my MC's lol. I will be posting Mara's actual character sheet later today so be on the look out for that one! Thank you again for the ask!

— M. Warrin

[dehvoursarc]

mercury :3

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐓   𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    ! 

𝟎𝟑.   𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘   !

(   𝗌𝗒𝗆𝖻𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝗌   :   mind,  communication,   intellect,   reason,   language,   intelligence.   )

would   you   say   that   your   muse   is   strong   minded   ?   are   they   easily   persuaded   or   drawn   off   of   their   own   path   or   hard   to   reason   with   ?   are   they   good   at   communicating   their   feelings,   wishes,   and   goals   or   do   they  struggle   with   the   general   form   of   communication   ?   are   they   easily   understanding   of   both   other   people   and   matters   out   with   their   own   control   ?   would   you   consider   them   intelligent,   book   smart,   street   smart,   and   morally   smart   ?

He tends to be very headstrong, but his straightforward nature does make him easy to manipulate. I personally believe Pul.cinella is doing so — whether for the Tsaritsa, or for his own ends, who knows. We see an instance of Ch.ilde accepting what the old man said, only to learn it wasn't really accurate (about Arle), but he immediately apologizes, and accepts what Arle tells him instead (again, another instance of his straightforward nature; right after Arle says she likes spreading misinformation about herself LMAO).

He can also be very stubborn at times. He is set on his path, and when it comes to goals important to him — becoming stronger, the Tsaritsa's mission — it is extremely difficult to sway him from that path.

He struggles at times with communicating in a way that others will understand, and in turn understanding others. I've talked a bit about his low empathy, but he also has trouble remembering that others are often not as direct and straightforward as he is at times.

I believe that Ch.ilde is highly intelligent. We see instances on battlefields where he is extremely aware of his body, his weapons, his enemies, and where bystanders are. In the Golden House, he is able to move the Traveler into a position he can slip by them to the Exuvia. In the fights against the Meks, and then the Narwhal, in Fontaine, we can also see instances of him being aware of his surroundings and using them to his advantage.

However, I do believe he struggled in school. I see him as having ADHD, and sitting still, trying to focus on repetitive problems that didn't interest him was just not something he could do. Even now, trying to get him to do any sort of paperwork is like trying to herd a cat.

He also knows what is right and wrong, he just doesn't care. His moral compass isn't skewed, more that he doesn't look at it. For example, given some of his reactions to Xinyan in the Labyrinth Warriors event, I do believe that he feels bad about the Osial thing when confronted with someone from Liyue — but in the moment, nothing would have swayed him from doing it. It was to achieve the Tsaritsa's mission, even if he personally hated the idea innocents could die. It is not his moral compass that guides his actions, but his goals.

[booksandwords]

Checking Out Love by R. Cooper

Read time: 1 Day Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: Every word was complete and utter, ice-cold, white-hot brutality. Take no prisoners, leave no survivors, honest truth. Anyone dumb enough to risk damaging an antique book with a flash for his personal benefit probably did write terrible characters. — Jeremy (on Benj's talking)

Okay let me be honest I read this novelette just so I could finish something, I didn't even care what. Checking Out Love is super short, predictable, and cute, but I kinda feel like there was something missing. You will likely end up thinking Jeremy Song for an exceptionally smart person you are incredibly stupid. Jeremy is very certain about what he wants in a man and I can respect that. He struggles to keep a man largely because of his tendency toward word vomit and his intellect. But I really like his mind and his thirst for knowledge. His studies are in Comparative Literature and Linguistics. Bless an author writing including linguistics as an area of study, a focus. I adore the branches of anthropology. Jeremy is researching his thesis it's topic is also fascinating. "My thesis is about storytelling. We create stories for our own kind, stories of our history or our beliefs. Yet we willingly pass them on to others, who change and adapt them. Look at how many different versions of Cinderella there are. For all that the story undergoes superficial changes, the idea remains the same.". Leland Benjamin 'Benj' Barrett is all kinds of adorable and is my kind of librarian. Softly spoken and with a serious spine when the situation calls for it. He is also the current guardian of the Barrett Libray and specifically the Madeline Canales-Barrett Special Collections Library. He is not what he appears. Once you finish the story you look back you see how obvious his attraction to Jeremy was at the start. They are almost direct opposites with the exception of their bibliophilia.

I have always liked the way R.Cooper writes, her style suits my tastes but it really isn't for everyone. That said there is a moment in Checking Out Love that was kind of a risky play. The whole concept relies on a beast that guards the library collection. That beast is Leland Benjamin 'Benj' Barrett. When Jeremy finds out by of course walking in on Benj telling a patron to leave for disrespecting the collection, he actually bans him for good (and more power to him for that). Jeremy's reaction.... that's hot I want to piss him off more, I want to see more of the beast, including this quote He’d never had to work to piss someone off before. This was new. A good new. My thoughts as I was reading were 'Oh damn... that is a risky game to play if both the parties aren't aware of the stakes.' as in if Benj isn't aware that Jeremy finds his power, that enforcement of the rules of turn on, the pushing buttons could just lead to all kinds of bad things. I mean Benj picks up on it and does play on it kinda lading to... “God.” Jeremy made an unintelligible noise. “Freaking kiss me already.”. The desperation of Jeremy for Benj's kiss and hands is done well, particularly for something this short. But it was just a bit of a red flag for me.

There are a couple of quotes I want to share even though this is so short.

But he’d always had this fear if he started staring at numbers, he’d fall in, never to be seen again. They’d find him in a basement apartment, unwashed, hair down to his ass, muttering about Pi and the secrets of the universe. — (Jeremy) I really like the feel of this. It's quite early on it is a decent introduction to his character, his mind. Also, I think it's kinda relatable.

"The problem with being one of those people fascinated by everything was that he annoyed those humans around him who didn’t think it was fun to learn and question and talk about woolly caterpillars, or geographic profiling, or shoes and ships and ceiling wax, whatever." — (Jeremy) I mean I can see how it would frustrate a partner but as an outsider this is brilliant. That broad interest.

"Did you know that a maze and a labyrinth are different things, although today people use the terms interchangeably? You can get lost in a maze, but you can’t get lost in a labyrinth. Disoriented, maybe, but not lost.” — (Jeremy) Is this accurate? I would o thought the inverse was true.

In the nineteenth century, the Mexican general, Canales, had lived in the area and his teenage daughter, Rosa, had kept a diary. At fourteen or fifteen, Rosa had taken an interest in the various languages around her, from Spanish and English to the Cantonese and Pidgin English of the Chinese laborers, even the remaining Native place names, and written them all down. She had also, in between all the usual thoughts of a young girl, created her own language out of them, for a fantastic world she made up. If that was true, that was some Tolkien-level shit and Jeremy needed to see it. — (Jeremy) I needed to include this. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong but I don't believe the diaries are real. But they sound amazing and feed my anthropology-loving brain. This isn't the only quote about them, it's not even my fave but my fave is too long to include here.

Some people pointed out that trust is necessary for creatures to share a spoken or written language.” That got him another startled blink. "You see, because words reference things that aren’t necessarily there at the time, so they could be lies. There’s no reason to trust words, since words can be faked, unlike primal noises.” — (Jeremy) I had never thought of this. But yeah. Another book I was reading listening to when I read this was Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell this made me think of him. Trust, faith and truth.

Jeremy was creepy. He was officially a big creepy weirdo. He made himself pull up his latest chapter, determined to stop making the hot guy uncomfortable. — (Jeremy) Yes Jeremy you are being a super creep but on some level, I think he likes it. Benj likes being treated as human, not someone who is a higher status, so wealthy that it isn't funny.

When he loved something, he loved it, and that was all there was to it. He also tended to express that devotion the way he thought, in random, fast, seemingly disconnected ways. — (Jeremy) This is just a total mood. Jeremy has an interesting mind. I'm wondering if it is deliberately written as something like a high-functioning spectrum. I mean no disrespect but he reminds me of someone I know who is on the spectrum and is fairly high-functioning but in a different field.

[amistytown]

The Brothers Comfort a Bullied MC

I started writing this thinking it would be something short and sweet I could finish in a day, and then it turned into this. MC remains gender neutral, and I currently don’t write for the dateables, but when I do I could always write a part II if people are interested. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it, anon, and thank you for the request! As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Trigger warning for mentions of blood, violence, and physical and emotional bullying. Thank you to those who take the time to read my work; it’s greatly appreciated!

LUCIFER

Immediately notices you’re quieter than usual, face sullen and void of the beautiful smile Lucifer has grown accustomed to. He’s determined to figure out what’s troubling you, undeniably concerned for your wellbeing; you’re the exchange student, though, more importantly, you’re his human, and your happiness is his own. That night he calls you to his study, always willing to make time in his busy schedule to accommodate you, especially when his human is in need. Your eyes are dark and swollen, and your head is bowed as you enter; you look exceptionally fragile, his heart aching at the sight. Behind closed doors he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, pressing a light kiss to your forehead while he runs his fingers through your hair; he can feel you relax against him, hands twisting in his shirt as you bury your face in his chest.

Bursting into tears, you cry in his arms, and he holds you close, gaze soft as he consoles you, gently rubbing your back and whispering words of comfort. You’re his priority, his pride and joy, and he won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, wanting to soothe your aching heart. Flames dance in the fireplace, casting the room in their golden glow and emanating a heat that dries your tears and warms you both body and soul. Lucifer cradles you to him in one of the chairs situated before the hearth, watching over you as you curl up in his lap. Patiently he waits for you to speak what’s on your mind, unburdening yourself of your worries, his anger quiet and cold once he learns of the demons tormenting you. They are foolish to bully the one he loves, and to do so on school grounds; they will certainly be punished for their crimes—he will see to it personally.

Lucifer reassures you will no longer endure such harassment, encouraging you to confide in him; there’s little you can do or say to bother the Avatar of Pride, and he wants to help when able, providing his undying support. Your mood lifts significantly, and his heart swells as you cup his cheeks to draw him into a kiss, your lips smiling against his and sweetening the moment. He won’t allow you to leave his side the remainder of the night, and you’re eager to remain in his company, lounging in his study while you wait for him to finish his work. Though his focus is elsewhere, and he decides to turn in early, carrying you to his room where he tucks you in, hugging you to him beneath the blankets. The next morning, he excuses you from your duties, ordering a day of rest and relaxation; you deserve it, after all.

MAMMON

The Avatar of Greed is attending class when he overhears a low-level demon taunting you, throwing insult after insult while you try to focus on your studies; though the longer you ignore them, the more they push back, your face falling as their words leave their mark on your heart. Mammon’s blood is boiling, and he’s out of his seat, towering over the demon in an instant, a hand wrapped around their throat. Lucifer intervenes, putting an end to the chaos, but Mammon is unapologetic, his elder brother’s lecturing doing little to quell the fire still raging beneath the surface. He’s your protector, and he won’t hesitate to defend you—the consequences be damned.

To say he’s worried about you is an understatement, he refuses to leave your side, determined to protect you at all costs. A lowly demon is harassing you? The Great Mammon will deal with them personally, and once he’s finished, they won’t think twice about hurting his human. He loves you, although it’s difficult for him to admit at times, but you’re his world, and he hates to see you upset. Words do hurt, he knows all too well, so he’ll show you how loved you are by holding your hand and pulling you into his warm embrace, allowing you to cry on his shoulder—anything for you. Your tears wet his jacket, body shaking as you sob, finally breaking down from days of bullying. He wishes he noticed sooner, but he’s here now and will take care of you.

As soon as school is over for the day, he’ll make certain you’re comfortable and help you unwind in the peace and quiet of your room; tell him what you want and it’s yours, no questions asked. He’ll order your favorite food, which you enjoy while watching a movie, finding solace in one another’s presence. When you smile for the first time that day he’s elated, appreciating how beautiful you are—heart, body, and soul—if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close, and you kiss his cheek in thanks before resting your head on his chest. The soft touch of your lips renders him speechless, his heart pounding as he breathes in your scent, sweet and heavenly. Once he composes himself, he returns the kiss with fervor, promising to always protect you.

LEVIATHAN

The downside to attending class online is he can’t see you throughout the day. After school he makes sure the two of you have plans, whether it’s playing videos games, watching anime, or simply enjoying each other’s company. He’s devastated when you cancel on him, but more concerned you’re feeling unwell; humans are fragile creatures, and he needs to take care of his Henry. Of course, those self-deprecating thoughts linger at the back of his mind, telling him you cancelled on purpose—who wants to waste their time on a gross otaku like him? However, he collects himself, dismissing them for your sake, and knocks on your bedroom door with trembling hands.

Light cascades from your room into the hall, his eyes widening when they meet yours, your gaze glassy and cheeks stained by your tears. For a moment he wonders if he is to blame, trying to recall everything he said and did since breakfast, to find an answer, only to confuse himself further. Yet you smile at him, anchoring him to reality, and he hates how it fails to reach your eyes. He can’t help enveloping you in his arms, forgetting how to breathe now that you’re so close, and he’s certain his heart is about to break as you begin to sob into his chest, clinging to him in desperation. Your cries hurt him dearly, and he wants to cry himself seeing you upset, but refrains, staying by your side to offer what support he can give.

In the privacy of his room, he’s extra attentive, hesitant but soft touches and worried glances in your direction while he wraps you up in his blankets, even allowing you to hold his Ruri-chan pillow for comfort. The tub is snug with the both of you inside, his face red and burning, though he’s glad you look much happier, safe and warm in his embrace. He puts on a lighthearted anime hoping it’ll lift your spirits further, the laugh that escapes you music to his ears. The episode ends, and you finally tell him the cause of your pain, opening your heart to him, his hold tightening when tears gather in your eyes once again. His insecurities are now forgotten, replaced by a wave of anger that consumes him, and he fights to keep his demonic aura at bay. A lowly demon dares to hurt you? He’ll make them rue the day they decided to torment his player 2. Until then he’ll let you know exactly how special you are, indulging you the rest of the night.

SATAN

Satan is browsing the books in the RAD library when the comfortable silence is unceremoniously shattered, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds. Angry shouts reverberate off the walls, forcing their way beneath his skin—warm, uncomfortable, yet addicting—setting him alight. He can feel the intensity of every word, his heart pounding, pulsing in his ears with each syllable, the Avatar of Wrath unable to deny he appreciates the beauty of the heated exchange unfolding before him. Although he considers himself a demon of knowledge, making a name for himself in the Devildom for his intellect and held to high standards, he’s not impervious to his sin. He’s irritated, his concentration lost, but a part of him enjoys the pandemonium, wanting to tempt them further into madness. A scream interrupts his thoughts, a pitiful sound, and his blood runs cold. He knows you, your voice, and to hear you cry out is enough to break his resolve.

A hand firmly closes around your throat, blood welling beneath clawed fingers, as you’re forced into a corner. The panic in your eyes fills him with an uncontrollable rage, and he yearns to rip the heart from the demon who threatens you, the very person he holds dear to his own. Wrath overpowers all rationale, and he doesn’t mind, your life greater than the image he’s meticulously cultivated over centuries. He lunges at the demon without warning, grip bruising as he wrenches them away and drives them into the nearest bookshelf, watching it topple over in a cloud of dust and debris. An eerie hush falls over the library, curious gazes on the fourth born, but he’s indifferent, dragging the wretched creature from the wreckage; a grin spreading across his face at their desperate pleas—they only fuel the fire raging within. However, their life is spared due to Lucifer’s interference; Satan’s sure he’s instilled enough fear in the demon’s mind to last an eternity.

The resulting lecture from Lucifer leaves Satan with a headache. He’s unrepentant, his wrath reduced to an ember, but it still smolders, hot and heavy in his chest. When he enters the House of Lamentation, he finds you waiting to throw your arms around him, and despite his anger, he melts against you, calmed by your presence—so sweet and inviting he could lose himself in your very embrace. You’re his saving grace, and he’ll protect you as fiercely as he loves you, hating to see you scared and vulnerable, especially at the mercy of another. Even now he can see the remnants of fear and taste the salt of your tears as he kisses your cheek, fingers ghosting over the dark bruises on your neck. There’s a twinge of anger, but also dread knowing another hurt you and how quickly they could have taken you from him. The familiar smell of books is soothing, the large stacks scattered about his room bathed in moonlight. You’re curled up in his bed, listening to him read aloud with your head on his shoulder, his free hand stroking idly through your hair. At that moment, you look content, smiling at him, and he can’t help leaning over to capture your lips in a kiss, glad he can bring you comfort during the darkest of nights.

ASMODEUS

After school, Asmodeus sees the exhaustion in your eyes and the lack of color in your face, your natural glow seeming to fade throughout the day. Avoiding his gaze, you wilt in his arms when he pulls you into his embrace, his heart aching with desire when you are resistant to his charms. You don’t look at him in adoration or hug him back as tightly, basking in his beauty and praising him while he kisses your loving smile from your lips. Instead, you stare at the ground, body tensing when he cups your cheek, and although you lean into his touch, tears spring forth, hot beneath his fingertips. He can hardly stomach seeing you so distraught, his darling human, helplessly watching you fall to pieces in front of him.

The halls are silent aside from your sobs as you cry into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck while he carries you up the stairs to his room, whispering words of love and comfort in the hope they’ll soothe the pain that bleeds to the very depths of your soul. He’s grateful you allow him to hold and console you, trusting him to care for you in a moment of vulnerability, clinging to him without fear and seeking out all he’s able to offer. Your tears stain his blouse, and his makeup is mussed, yet he pays no mind, rocking and hushing you until you’re unable to shed another, chest heaving with each strangled breath that escapes you. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, he hums sweetly, angelic voice lulling you to sleep. He watches over you after tucking you into his bed, affectionately stroking your face. For now, you rest your weary head, and once you awake, he’ll figure out what’s troubling his poor human, hoping he can put your mind at ease.

Dinner is your responsibility tonight, but Asmodeus doesn’t dare wake you, stepping in on your behalf. His brothers are well fed, and he makes sure to prepare an extravagant meal for his love, happy to serve you in the comfort of his bed. In fact, he feeds you himself, and you laugh as he cheerily extends a spoonful in your direction, blessing him with your beautiful smile for the first time that day. Beneath the silken sheets, he lays beside you, and you curl around him, glancing at him shyly before thanking him with a light but sweet kiss he savors long after you’ve parted. Yet you still look pained, and he encourages you to confide in him, cradling your head to his chest. Your voice is strained, barely above a whisper, but he hears every word, blinking tears from his own eyes. How long did you endure such harassment at the hands of those demons—on RAD grounds no less—suffering all on your lonesome. He’s appalled, wishing he could have protected you and sad he could not, however, he’ll make it up to you; anyone who hurts you is better off dead anyway. From here on out, he’ll take greater care of his human, keeping you safe in his arms.

BEELZEBUB

Finally, lunchtime! Beelzebub is weighing his options as he makes a beeline for the cafeteria, the rumble of his stomach echoing loudly in the halls. Though all thoughts of food vanish when he turns the corner to find you on the ground, a group of low-level demons looming over your trembling form. They flee the second they notice the Avatar of Gluttony, reeking of fear. He considers following them, goaded by his anger, which rages within, hot and intense, pulling a feral growl from his throat. However, the sound of your cries reaches his ears, a somber melody that brings him to his knees. He kneels beside you, brows knit in concern, and gently wipes your tears away before catching you as you throw yourself into his embrace. The rest of the world no longer matters, only his human while he holds you in the now empty corridor, heart unbearably heavy.

Carefully, he lifts you off the floor into his arms, mindful of his strength as his holds you, your body feeling soft and warm and awfully fragile under his touch. Yet you lean against him, sighing into his shoulder and seeking comfort from him—a large, scary demon, one of the most powerful in the Devildom. He’s glad he’s able to protect you, but there are times he worries you’ll look at him differently, your eyes wide with worry like the demons’ who ran at the mere sight of him. Your gaze is loving, and you snuggle closer, thanking him; he feels a little lighter knowing you’re safe, and that you trust him to take care of you. The palms of your hands are scraped, blood drying to your skin—a reminder of what those demons did to you—and he presses a kiss to your fingers, vowing to teach them a lesson they surely won’t forget.

The emptiness of his stomach is agonizing, a pain that runs deep, but he desperately wants to stay with you, comforting his sweet human who needs him now more than ever. He’ll gladly miss lunch for you, putting you above his sin despite the influence it holds over him, and tending to your injuries. The school day passes by slowly, however, he keeps a watchful eye on you, your smile filling him with a happiness that helps him through the last of his classes. Afterwards, he offers to bring you to your favorite bakery; food always manages to cheer him up, and he thinks you deserve a treat. On the way home with bags of decadent desserts and pastries, he hums, reaching for your hand, which fits so perfectly in his own. Again, you smile at him, and he’s glad he’s found a place by your side, brightening your day and you his.

BELPHEGOR

The Avatar of Sloth awakes from a dreamless sleep, hating how cold and empty his bed feels without you beside him. In a daze, he wanders into the hall—pillow in hand—the thought of holding you tightly against him, soaking up your warmth, tempting him down the stairs. Most nights he finds himself sneaking into your room and slipping into your bed, your body seeking his out in the darkness and welcoming him into your embrace. He’s thankful you’ve allowed him into your heart, Belphegor cherishing the intimacy between you, a love he once considered a mere fantasy. Though he pauses outside your door with bated breath, listening to the melancholy rise and fall of the cries echoing in the corridor—your cries. 

Throwing the door open, he peers into the darkness to find you huddled beneath your blankets, eyes wet with tears as you glance up at him, clearly startled. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, hands shaking, and he swallows against the panic, slightly reassured you’re safe in bed, but the miserable look on your face is more than he can bear. You whisper his name, voice rough and shaky, your pain tangible. The mattress dips beneath him, and he pulls you into his lap, cradling you to him. His gentle gaze sweeps over you—his human who deserves all the love in the three realms—and he kisses your tears away, wishing to free you of your burdens. Sleep can wait. You’re far too precious to him, and he’ll do anything to see you smile again, helping you piece your heart back together even if it takes the rest of the night.

Time is endless with you in his arms, your cries fading into quiet sobs as you lean into his touch, relaxing under the loving caress of his hand on your cheek. You regard him hesitantly, unspoken words on the tip of your tongue, and he’s nothing but encouraging as he kisses your forehead down to the tip of your nose, earning him a small yet beautiful smile that vanishes all too soon. Belphegor is eerily quiet while he listens to you, sad you felt the need to keep this a secret—alone with your worries—angry at himself for not noticing sooner, and livid at the demons who foolishly hurt you, instilling you with such fear you dreaded school each morning; they’ll regret laying a finger on his human, and he knows he’ll enjoy their agonized screams when he gets his hands on them. Until then, he promises to love and protect you, watching over you as you fall into a peaceful sleep at his side.

Tag list: @luminari-mc​ @yukihaie​

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?���

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)