#disclaimer I don’t condone actual bullying this is more like

[piedinthepiper]

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or a pt. 2 to before: disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[science-lings]

okay this has been going through my mind for days and I have to get my thoughts out before I explode

Disclaimer, this is not talking about a specific artist/person and would never condone or participate in anon hate or online bullying for any reason but especially this one. 

I get why people are mad about Link being portrayed as this buff, hypermasculine, tall guy. I am too (again don’t fucking attack people over it though) and it seems like such an infuriating way to change the character just to fit into some ideal of hypermasculine attractiveness or to make a ship fall into a more hetero lense by making him a decent foot taller than whatever girl he’s being paired with. 

The world of video games and action movies and every form of media ever is extremely saturated with male characters that are swole and manly and whatever other descriptors people are trying to push onto Link that don’t fit into his actual character. There are so many characters out there that already fit this male standard and having a clearly androgynous elf guy was like a breath of fresh air. 

Link was literally designed to be a character whose lines on gender were blurred, ‘a girl with a masculine touch or a guy with a feminine touch’ so that anyone could project themselves onto him. His physical design in botw/totk was specifically made to be feminine enough to wear a certain outfit to pass as a woman (which includes a nearly mandatory cutscene where he puts on the clothes and blushes after being called pretty, like you have to be blind to think that its an experience that he doesn’t like at all) and in totk there are a bunch of outfits made for Link that are blatantly gnc, ones that are practically dresses, include nail polish and lipstick, you can even dye his hair bright and vivid colors and that’s half way to giving him new pronouns. The whole reason Linkle isn’t included in more mainline loz games was because her existence would force Link into a gender dichotomy, if there's a clearly female version of the main hero, that means the main hero has to be a man, and they would rather abandon a potential reoccurring character than make Link conform to a gender binary. 

So pardon me when it feels disingenuous and even malicious for him to be morphed into these clear masculine ideals, where he towers over any female romantic partner (even when in canon he is regularly depicted as noticeably shorter than her) or even in m/m fanworks he’s really beefed up, perhaps to make the scene feel more gay or something. 

Perhaps it’s because his more twink-y/ femboy body type is so heavily sexualized (though obviously when people are sculping abs on him it’s totally not because they’re horny about it) and that’s an issue in itself that bothers me. But it’s just so tiring to see one of the very few popular main characters who is short and feminine and androgynous be molded into just another bland muscle-headed action hero over and over and over again. 

I’m not mad at the creators for portraying him differently than how I like him portrayed, I’m mad because we really do get so few characters like him in good popular media, and to be honest, I really like him the way that he is. I love that he’s tiny and has long hair and has the option to dress any way the player likes. It seems a little distasteful to make him taller than a female love interest just because that’s how straight couples have to be, there’s just never been a real straight couple where the guy is shorter than the girl, that’s just Impossible! (/s) 

[magdolslut]

Evil, But Lame

(Why I dislike Leighton more than Bailey or Whitney)

DOL Character Analysis/Comparison (sort of)

Disclaimer:

This post contains Degrees of Lewdity (DOL) content and spoilers, as such sexual themes and violence. No minors allowed.

Please don't take the listed explanations below as 'excuses' for criminal behaviour. I am not defending or condoning the actions done by these fictional characters.

Also, the sprites are just the result of me fucking around Character Viewer + bad edits.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything and everybody sucks in DOLville (or my other favourite nickname - Rapechestershire), but in my books, Leighton deserves a special mention. 

This dastardly disgusting failure of an educator cultivated within me a personal vendetta and now I always make it a point to antagonise them and make them the butt-monkey in all my playthroughs. The reasons are as follows:

They love to power-trip and lord it over students and teachers alike.

Their demeanour is so slimy. Compared to two other ‘villains’, he’s all gross but no substance (at this rate, their personality can be used as mediocre lube). 

Bailey (the main villain) is impassive and mostly fearless, and Whitney (the school bully) is sometimes so over-the-top that it comes across as theatrical (which makes sense - they’re putting on a show for their gang and the nearby audience) that I don’t take them seriously (most of the time).

I currently have minimal info on Leighton’s backstory, but I have yet to see a ‘sympathetic’ reason for their actions and behaviour.

Leighton's victim count is high and he has been blackmailing/molesting students for decades, and it’s not a stretch to say that he’s probably a big reason why so many adults (Spoiler: D) in town are also traumatized or fucked up.

He revels in the current power structure and town dynamics, while Bailey (implicitly) and Whitney (explicitly) acknowledges how fucked up everything is.

Also, here’s a comparison (again, I only included Bailey and Whitney as these are the two ‘antagonistic’ characters I have the most interactions with):

Vs. Bailey

Bailey’s motivation is primarily money. They will blackmail you (among other things) for profit, whereas Leighton will blackmail you to satisfy his lust and ego.

I can respect Bailey's character (not his actions 😭) -  they’re callous and ruthless, but they’re also strong and reliable. Personality-wise, I like that they’re impassive, calculating, and dangerous, fitting for the overarching villain. Bailey generally won’t regard you lustfully, unless you go out of the way to do so (cough Troublemaker cough). While steep, their payments do have a cap. Also, I personally believe they dislike orphans who play it safe to gain money because they themselves got their hands really dirty to make money (like the PC, potentially).

Defeating Bailey is also incredibly difficult...because they're impossibly fit and tenacious.

Leighton is petty (they will retaliate if you blackmail him), weak-willed, complacent, (his computer is easier to break into and he easily gets distracted by his own lust), and a serial molester (with a high victim count and long track record - it’s not a stretch to say that he’s probably a big reason why so many adults in town are also fucked up).

Defeating Leighton is way easier and he’ll throw a lame insult at you afterwards.

In terms of administration, I dare say Bailey’s better at running the Orphanage than Leighton running the School.

Spoiler: IIRC, Bailey was also an Orphan, he made the Orphanage better since the last caretaker, and he also has debt. I believe the money they collect from the orphans goes into that debt.

Vs. Whitney:

There’s little revealed about Whitney’s actual motivations but their demanding and bullying behaviour is most likely because of their personal circumstances, the need to gain status, and maintain the approval of their gang. In the most sympathetic light, they’re a neglected teenager who thinks being bigger and badder is the best way to protect themselves in a shitty town. Private moments (esp as an LI and w/o his gang’s influence) show they can be rather responsible and capable of showing concern for the PC.

By contrast, Leighton is an adult authority figure who perpetuates systematic abuse and currently shows no sign of remorse as this helps to keep themselves in power. With their backstory unrevealed, they’re just a pervert who likes preying on the young and vulnerable. They either view you as “Oh, you’re still here?” or “I’m gonna have my fun with youuu”🤮

As shown in some Whitney scenes, Leighton still has some sort of control over Whitney (they give Whitney lighter punishments in exchange for keeping other students in control, and even Whitney won’t refuse a summon from the Headteacher) and most likely has the means to harshly punish Whitney if they’re not useful to them anymore.

You can make Whitney pay for their crimes or retaliate against them, but Leighton, as a major figure in town, can easily get off scot-free (in most cases).

While Whitney will pimp you out (which I hate, they're my primary LI ffs, I really hope this improves in future updates), you can escape some encounters (if you have high Athletics or they have Low Dom) and he mostly does so for the money (they even split the profit with you in one encounter lol). Leighton will force you to have noncon sex (with other students or a freaking dog) as a punishment.

Tbh, both are bad: Whitney can also force you into noncon but they can be fought off easily and they often do so in the spur-of-the moment if you defy them (please don't interpret this as excusing this unhinged behaviour), but Leighton plans their attack, coerces multiple students, and records it for blackmail, which I think is more damaging to multiple parties and harder to navigate (game-wise).

Honestly, Whitney, if left unchecked and goes the criminal route, can probably end up similarly like Leighton (abusing power), but I imagine they’d be more dangerous and calculating as an adult (more similar to Bailey, but cockier).

And if you guys are interested, here’s what I’ve done as revenge so far 😈:

Overpowered him (as a Tiny MC) during his spanking detentions with an audience

Humiliated him and made them cum (Feat: Leighton’s Nightmare)

Eloped with someone else during the aftermath of their card game victory 

Pegged them and took their butt v-card (in their own words: “Yes! Make me your strap-on bitch!”)

In progress: Sending him to the Pillory during the Police Infiltration quest

In conclusion: Leighton is a slime ball, currently has no sympathetic reasons for their behaviour, and is an old pervert with an ego. I also like picking on them but I have to say, my initial vehemence for them has now softened into petty annoyance (possibly even grudgingly fond).

If you read up to here, bless you. Gotta go make cream buns now.

~ Magda's Maker

[lividcryptid]

Heyyyy so remember when I wanted to yap about my project moon ocs? Yeahhhhh here’s Psycho car!

Disclaimer: Anything that I write does not reflect my own views. They’re written this way for me to look at new perspectives, to explore toxic dynamics, and for me to improve writing. I do not condone any of their actions.

TW: Religious topics under Babylon, traditionalist views under Lady, sorry guys Lady hates men a lot;;;,

Rivers:

They/Them

Weapon: Scythe

Believes that people nowadays don’t value life due to technological advancements such as getting a prosthesis or K-Corp combatants always using HP bullets on the battle field. It’s disgraceful to the natural way of life. If you die on the battlefield, you should die for good

Decides that it’s their job to remind everyone how short life truly is

They so delusional to the point where they believe that they are a proxy for Death and that they are doing people a service

Hates that people are “cheating their way out of death” by using prosthesises

Tbh if they met Kromer, they would’ve joined Nagel und Hammer because of how their views align

Is the main reason why Psycho Car takes on so many assassination requests

Has an early 2000s club goer attitude

Lady:

She/Her

Weapon: Meat Cleaver (main), will use other cooking utensils as weapons

Has a victim complex

Believes that she is a poor sheep about to be sent to the slaughter house; thinks that everyone is out to bully her

No matter what you think, you will be punished for it

If you agree with her views, she’ll think you underestimating her strength as a woman and that you believe she’s too helpless to the point where you’ll kill her. She’ll instead kill you to “protect herself” even if you weren’t planning on attacking.

If you disagree with her views, she’ll think you’re bullying her. She’s just a poor woman who is in need of assistance and yet you deny her that. How dare you. She’ll kill you for that too.

Has very traditional views but tends to also contradict them due to her job (Ex: Women should always be pretty for her man (she’s scared of and hates men), women should always be prim and proper, always in the kitchen and take care of her fellow members, etc)

Refuses to be the driver of the car. Like. Ever. She doesn’t believe that the lady should drive the car and that it’s a man’s job

Oddly enough, she always targets the men first in assassination requests

Babylon:

Any pronouns

Weapon: Whip

They’re the reason Psycho car was even formed in the first place

It’s technically her own way of starting a cult or at least having a crew to help them gain followers

Believes that the gods do not exist at all and that humanity should place their faith onto them and tgem alone

The Babylon name refers back to the story of the Tower of Babel. Since the name means “Gate of God,” it gives him some kind of irony haha

Has a saying that goes “There is no god, so place your faith in me as if I were one.”

Babylon doesn’t really identify with any gender or wants to be perceived to be anything like that tbh

Is the main driver for the car because they actually have a license and is technically the most responsible (?)

Crow:

They/She

Weapon: Meteor Hammer

There’s not much to know about Crow’s life before joining the group. Their excuse is that no one asked, therefore there wasn’t a need for the past to be known.

The only person who has gotten close to figuring out Crow’s past was surprisingly Lady. She knows that they’re more alike than what meets the eye, especially with their views on men.

Crow took their new name because it’s somewhat ironic in a beautiful way. Crows are typically associated with death and are seen as the messengers for the other side. It doesn’t quite fit someone who is aware of their overwhelming beauty. Yet, it does. Despite the negative connotation, crows can also be seen as symbols of mystery, intelligence, and fate; they’re all traits Crow possess.

She’s the closest to Rivers due to their carefree, selfish attitude. It’s refreshing in a way compared to their old life where they lived for others.

Crow may appear reserved, but they’re not quiet. She’ll respond whenever she feels like it, which is pretty often. Though, their responses are very crude and blunt.

[elbowreveal]

Is the bullying Philza hours related to the whole “I’m asking Tumblr to give me the philza url” thing? Because if so, I agree everyone point and laugh at him L

YEP precisely

PURGE THE WEAK!!

[mettywiththenotes]

Bakugou is so cool and cute! (Disclaimer: I do not condone his acts of violence as a future Hero and I do not condone his suicide baiting and bullying) But also I like Tomura because he’s cool and cute too! (Disclaimer: I do not condone his acts of violence or murder and I do not think he is justified in killing people. Nevertheless I am aware he has serious mental issues and needs therapy. I also do not approve of how he started a terrorist organization, nor do I approve of his invasion in the War Arc or USJ or Deika). They are my favorites in the series!

Then again, All Might is nice too (Disclaimer: I do not condone his acts of withholding information from Izuku or his encouragement of toxic Hero Propaganda in Hero Society) as well as Aizawa (Disclaimer: I do not condone the way Aizawa expelled his first 1A class just to experience death and that is in fact a bad way to teach kids how to be Heroes. I realize that he haz mental health issues and possible PTSD as well as trauma but that course of action was unfair towards 2A)

On the subject of UA staff, Principal Nedzu is pretty funny (Disclaimer: I do not condone the fact that he seriously tried to hurt Mina and Kaminari, his students, in the Final Exam and I do not approve of the way he agreed to let Aizawa expel his 1A class) and Midnight has her moments too! (Disclaimer: I do not condone Horikoshi’s fanservice)

But I also think Overhaul was a little cute too even though he was a very bad person (Disclaimer: I do not condone the fact that he abused a child and put his caretaker in a coma to sell drugs, nor do I condone him fusing with somebody without their consent), as well as Chrono (Disclaimer: I do not condone the fact that he stabbed Aizawa and willingly went along with Overhaul). Rappa is really funny and I hope to see him again! (Disclaimer: I do not condone his acts of violence or the fact that he joined the mafia)

But that’s just the Yakuza. Onto the League Of Villains, Twice is really funny (Disclaimer: I do not condone his actions of taking part in a terrorist organization and killing people), Toga is super cute and actually really cool as well! (Disclaimer: I do not condone her actions of killing people and sucking people’s blood without their consent) Dabi is pretty cool, I like his fire and his depression aesthetic haha its quite relatable (Disclaimer: I do not condone his 30 murders, how he tried to attack Shouto when he was a kid - just because they were both minors does not make that excusable or okay - and how he outed his families abuse without their consent). On top of that, Compress (Disclaimer: I do not condone the kidnapping of any minors or anybody for that matter) and Giran (Disclaimer: I do not condone any acts of selling illegal items or black market weapons) are such a riot! Spinner is cool and relatable too (Disclaimer: I do not condone any killings of village people just because of acts of discrimination and I do not approve of Spinner’s admiration of Stain who also wanted to kill people for justice). Kurogiri is mysterious and Tomura’s caretaker and thats what I like about him, his elusive and mysterious past is what interests me (Disclaimer: I do not condone his willingness to follow a terrorist organization or its creator). In fact, all of the LOV are relatable! (Disclaimer: I do not approve of their willingness to kill people)

While I don’t like All For One, I am interested about him and his bond with Yoichi or lack thereof haha (Disclaimer: I do not condone manipulation, grooming, kidnapping, abuse, torture, forced starvation, stealing, murder etc) and, related to that, I am not incredibly happy about Hawks either but I also think he is interesting and I want to see more of him (Disclaimer: I do not condone his act of murder, and just because I put him in the same paragraph as All For One doesn’t mean that I think they are equal or the same, rather that they are similar in that I am only interested in their character arcs)

Real Actual Disclaimer: This post is to show that expecting this kind of format in every post is ridiculous, as I have shown above. People really take things out of context as if, if we don’t say these disclaimers, then we approve of the horrible acts these characters and many more have committed. Just because we do not say them doesn’t mean we like these acts or approve of them. While you can ask a person about what they think of a character if you are curious and respectful about it, do not expect your hand to be held throughout every post someone makes.

[stickyy]

Can I have a gn reader x Aizawa? Maybe a college AU where Aizawa doesn't know how to handle his crush because he was awkward when he was young and ended up a bully who was handsy. Thank you!

EEEE this is my first ask so i hope you like it anon! :D thanks so much for requesting!

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone or encourage any of the behavior outlined in the following text. this is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. :)

wordcount: 2299

warnings: dubcon, verbal abuse, slight dumbification, forced oral sex, brief mentions of gagging/vomit (doesn’t actually happen), aizawa is an law student asshole, quirkless!AU, ooc? more likely than u think

notes: im not like a writer so when i put this in word count and saw it was 2k words i gasped-

MIDTERM

Without a doubt, Aizawa’s the smartest student in your Civil Procedure lecture. You admire him; you’re both first years, but he already has an incredible work ethic and results to show for it. He works two part-time jobs to help pay for school (alongside his impressive scholarship), studies into the late hours of the night (mostly due to his being kept awake very loud roommate), and, despite a bad habit of regularly showing up to your 8 am class slightly hungover, still manages to produce the top marks in the class. 

You’re envious of him, because you’re the exact opposite. Your tuition is paid in full by your parents, you have a wonderfully quiet apartment all to yourself, and you study as best you know how, only to practically fail every assignment. You wish you could be surprised, but the material is a dreadfully bland concoction of boring procedure and esoteric theory that you rarely get further than three or four pages into a chapter. You want to like law, you really do, but there’s something about the intricacies of drafting lawsuits that goes in one ear and out the other. It’s no surprise that you sought out Aizawa’s help, desperate to at least pass the class with a decent grade. 

You wish you hadn’t. 

You don’t understand what you do that bothers him so deeply, but something about you coaxes cruelty from somewhere dark inside of him. You always scurry towards the back of the lecture hall to grab a seat next to him, doing your best to be quiet and unassuming, but he shoots you a venomous glare or a soft flurry of harsh words. And you get it, to an extent- some days you walk into class chattering a little too loudly on the phone, and on others you loudly shuffle around in your book bag to try finding the notes that you attempted to start for this lecture (if you even brought them that day). You know it’s annoying, but you also know you don’t deserve the downright verbal abuse he throws at you for it.

“It’s hard to take notes if you forget your textbook. Try being prepared for once,” he’ll sigh as he slides his textbook to you. Like a good student, he took notes for lecture the night before, but it still took some convincing for him to spare you his textbook.

“Do you ever shut up?” He’ll interrupt you as you babble about your difficulties understanding the most recent lecture. You want to retort, tell him off for being rude, but the words die in your throat; he radiates an annoying apathy that makes you doubt the efficacy of anything you say to him.

“You wouldn’t fail every assignment if you actually studied. Or maybe, you’re actually just stupid?” He’ll quip as you clutch your paper, a red ‘47’ scrawled in the upper corner of the page littered with your professor's critiques and question marks. By contrast, Aizawa’s paper is pristine, donning a singular red mark of ‘98, nice work!’.

With a well placed glare and the sour baritone of his voice, laced with exhaustion, it’s always enough to make your stomach drop from shame and embarrassment. Under normal circumstances, you’d never allow anyone to speak to you that way, but your grade was a dire situation, and with the midterm upcoming, you forcefully swallow your pride and ask him for his help.

You have to beg, but Aizawa agrees to tutor you the day before the midterm. This grade is a make or break for the class- if you do poorly on this exam, you’ll have to drop the lecture to salvage your gpa, putting you half a semester behind your peers. It’s motivation enough to deal with his poor attitude, and the two of you end up reviewing in an empty studying room on the top floor of the library. You began the session alert and determined to catch up, but studying with him shows you just how far behind you are. The textbook sounds like foreign poetry coming from his mouth; Aizawa is nothing short of eloquent when explaining the complexities of something as boring as filing lawsuits, and you spend most of the two hours spent just zoning out, completely unable to focus.

“You’re just wasting my time at this point.” The break in his cadence snaps you out of your trance, unfocused eyes meeting his tired ones, slightly lidded in annoyance, “Are you even trying to remember the material? Or are you just expecting me to spoon-feed it to you?”

Your throat catches, forcing you to swallow a lump as you attempt to ignore his words. 

“I am trying! I just don’t understand why there are two approaches, is all,” You whine, flipping back through your sparse notes to find the section that contained the explanation. 

“I went over that almost 3 chapters ago. If you were paying attention, you would’ve stopped me by now. It’s hard to believe that you even got into this school, if this is how you studied in high school. Did your daddy pull some strings with his buddies in admissions?”

Your eyes narrow, searching harder for the correct section in your notes. That’s a pretty low blow, and even if he’s not completely wrong, it still stings. You now know for a fact you didn’t even read this part of the text, but you keep your eyes trained on the page. At this point, you’d do anything to avoid looking at Aizawa, lest you begin to cry.

“Don’t be an asshole,” is all you can muster, voice shaking with unshed tears, “Would it kill you to be a little nicer? It’s hard to focus when all you do is insult me.”

“It’s hard to focus?” He repeats, his tone a sickly sweet mockery of yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s my fault. You’re a lot dumber than you think, if you even think at all. The midterm is tomorrow, and we’re just now getting into chapter five. Don’t get mad at me for actually trying to study; if I was holding your hand through it all, we’d still be on chapter one.”

Your vision blurs and a single tear hits the lined paper of your notes, causing the ink to blur as the drop absorbs into the page. You clench your jaw and take a breath before standing up, opening your backpack to put you things away. You didn’t have to take this abuse, you could study on your own. Even if you did poorly, you’d have some of your dignity left.

“It’s pretty rude to just walk out on someone trying to help you,” Aizawa says after a moment, closing his notes shut. “Not only do you give me a headache every single morning, but I try to tutor you and you want to leave without even thanking me? I’m busy, you know? I take time that I don’t have to spare just help your sorry ass out, for free, and you’re not even capable of learning anything from it.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and move to leave, but you find yourself face to face with Aizawa, his tall frame blocking the door, arms crossed over his chest, and a thoroughly disgusted expression plastered on his features. 

“I should charge you a fee, just for completely wasting an afternoon. Absolutely ridiculous,” His tone is a juxtaposition to his demeanor; he sounds more amused than annoyed, a jeer underlying the words. It makes you feel sick, and you’re suddenly grossly aware of the fact that you're alone with him, the only method of escape blocked. It feels dangerous, and you want nothing more than to be at home, alone and safe.

“H-how much?” You stutter meekly, eager to appease him. “I don’t really have any cash on me but if you have Venmo-”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Your heart starts to jackhammer against your ribcage and panic sets in. You’re frozen in place, unwilling to ask him to elaborate. You may not be very bright, but you have a good idea of what he’s going to ask for, and you can think of a million things you’d rather do instead.

“I know your pretty little skull is practically an echo chamber, so listen closely, okay? We both know that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be ready for the exam by the end of tonight, and I have to work in an hour and a half. So, if you behave and do what I ask you, I’ll let you copy my exam answers tomorrow. Understand?”

You’re silent, paralyzed by fear. A part of you wants to run, desperately, but your mind drifts to the midterm. You know that without any help, you’ll surely fail.

That’s how you end up on your knees in front of him, tears finally streaming down your face from choking on his thick cock. 

“That’s it,” he groans breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as his head presses back against the door, “I knew you were good for something. I bet this is how you convinced your other teachers to give you a passing grade, huh? A few cocks down your throat-fuck, to save your gpa, I wouldn’t put it past you, dumb slut.”

You hate this- hate being reduced to just a mouth for him to fuck. You hate how he sneers down at you, his eyes alight with sadistic pleasure. You especially hate the treacherous way your spine tingles and heat pools low in your stomach at his amused growls and degrading remarks. He’s just as cruel with the way he fucks into your mouth, disregarding your comfort entirely, hand in your hair roughly guiding your head over his length. He’s almost painfully thick, stretching your lips wide, tickling the recesses of your throat in a grotesque way. You try to wiggle away slightly, just to take a small breath; you’re beginning to feel dangerously lightheaded. You begin to pull your head away but he thrusts his hips upward, holding your head down and  forcing your lips to wrap around the base of his cock.

“S’okay, baby, just relax that empty little head of yours, no need to breathe right now,” he sighs, watching you struggle against him with a smirk, watching the fear bloom in your chest and your mind buzz with the lack of oxygen. Your thrashing shifts his cock in just the right way and you violently gag, eyes widening with the painful sensation. You’re almost convinced he’s going to let you pass out, right before he yanks you off of him. You cough violently, gagging a few more times, drool spilling out of your mouth.

“Throw up on me and a failing grade will be the least of your problems,” he growls, and the threat is a sobering reminder of how fucked up this is. You meet his expectant gaze, and reluctantly return to the task at hand. You can hold out just a little longer, you tell yourself; his hips are beginning to move on their own accord and you know he won’t last much longer. All you have to do is hang on and it will all be over soon.

You know that he’s just a bully, that you’re just doing what you have to do in order to pass this class, that you’re worth more than your grades, that you aren’t stupid- but the dark part of your mind questions if he’s right. Maybe you do belong on your knees, because what do you know? Maybe you are just a dumb slut; there’s no need to study if the only thing you’re good for is swallowing.

The shameful thought forces a new torrent of tears to pour from your eyes, gagging once more on both your tears and his cock, and the look of pure despair on your face pushes him over the edge. Aizawa yanks your head from his cock with a curse and you flinch as his hot cum hits your face. There’s a lot of it, the viscous seed slowly dripping down your face. The sensation is downright disgusting. You feel dirty and used, your throat sore, knees burning, lips swollen from his brutal assault. He presses the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing his load all over your skin with a cruel laugh.

Through your panting, you keep your eyes closed for a little bit, hoping that maybe this is an awful nightmare and you’ll wake up in your dorm, with an extra day to study and a little more hope in your heart. 

The sound of a camera shutter rips you from your fantasy, opening your eyes to see Aizawa grinning at his phone. You’re too shocked to say anything, only staring at him incredulously from your position on the floor in front of him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know?” He hums as he tidies himself up and grabs his bag. “So photogenic, I’ll be able to get off to this for weeks. Who knows what good you’d be if you were dumb and ugly.”

You didn’t notice that you had stopped crying, but the fresh tears and sound of your own sobs call your attention to fact.

“Try and clean up before you leave, alright? I know you’re a little too stupid to remember, but I don’t think it’d be a good look for you to walk around covered in cum.”

The door clicks closed, and through your sobs you look around at the room, only to notice that there aren’t any tissues left laying around. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

(But at least you get an A- on your midterm.)

[not-poignant]

I’ve been having a lot of Thoughts while reading FFS about how there is really no space in society for people who have committed assault or rape to meaningfully rehabilitate or re-integrate, especially if what they’ve done goes public. Do you think there’s a point where holding people accountable for what they’ve done sort of morphs into not letting them grow or improve?

This is a really complicated issue.

Firstly, in some parts of the world, there are specialists and psychologists who do specialise in helping people like Efnisien integrate back into society. They usually work in concert with community housing or government departments, and there are - especially in more welfare focused countries - many programs designed specifically to offer support to people like Efnisien (and criminals in general - though Efnisien has never been to prison or even juvenile detention).

A lot of this stuff is invisible in society, because of taboo and stigma, and because like you say, if a lot of these people are identified publicly (outside of a sexual offenders register), it’s often bad news for them. A lot of people don’t know these things exist unless they a) do something terrible and encounter them firsthand or b) are a loved one who knows about someone going into those programs.

As to the issue of holding people accountable, there’s a lot of things going on in your statement. People need to be held accountable, but that is not the same as tacitly approving bullying or abusing people who have done terrible things. Holding someone accountable is not done by bullying or abusing a person, and studies repeatedly show it’s counterproductive to treat people like this when they are trying to rehabilitate. There’s a direct correlation between recidivism and how a person’s rights (including the right to respect and care) are fulfilled after they’ve committed a crime. Also, once a person has proven they are self accountable, one has to question whether it’s relevant or necessary to hold them accountable after that in a way that is designed to destroy a person’s quality of life. Self-accountability changes how we hold people accountable; but...you wouldn’t always know that with the internet these days.

We definitely live in a culture where in some parts, people are not permitted to grow, improve or rehabilitate, and are bullied or abused for things they said or did that aren’t remotely criminal, even ten or fifteen years ago, even when it’s clear that they’ve changed. This is not holding someone accountable, this is scapegoating someone you don’t like for a reason that feels righteous, and bullying them for it. Of course their target can’t grow or improve in an environment like that; because it actually has nothing to do truly with accountability.

It’s one thing to hold JKR accountable for her horrific transphobic views. But if by some fucking miracle she manages to apologise and make genuine amends, somehow, in the next few years (unlikely but whatever, a trans person like me can dream), people bullying her after that won’t mean ‘holding her accountable.’ That’s just bullying under an umbrella of ‘this is justified, right?’

One of the reasons I actually write Falling Falling Stars is actually to explore the often very left-wing perspective that people who are morally grey, or who have done bad things, should be treated like scum, or like the worst of the worst and - as Efnisien knows - deserve to be killed or tortured or treated terribly etc. But all humans deserve human rights; that’s why they’re human rights. And it’s been interesting watching people...become very defensive in the face of what this story challenges. It hasn’t happened nearly as often as I expected, but it has happened.

My story at the end of the day is just a story, no one has to read it if they don’t like Efnisien or don’t think he deserves good things; but it’s been heartening to see so many people sort of...supporting him because he’s trying. It’s been great to show how consistent support and positive regard can actually create positive knock on effects.

Because like, we know that happens in reality too.

(Also, because you (the proverbial you, not you specifically, anon) would be surprised how many people who haven’t done criminal things still sometimes feel like reprehensible people who don’t deserve forgiveness for things that they’ve done in the past; because we’ve created a culture that...perpetuates this. A lot of people really identify with Efnisien, not because they’ve molested people, but because they feel like they might not deserve forgiveness for something in the past, or might not deserve to live a full or happy life because of something in the past.)

But the world is also far more complicated than Falling Falling Stars. Efnisien is a unique case, and not everyone who has committed crimes or been abusive can recover, and may only ever be interested in exploiting the system (Crielle is a great contrast to Efnisien in this sense; as Efnisien says ‘does this mean Crielle is human too?’ - whatever applies to him, also applies to her, and yet we know Efnisien can rehabilitate; and Crielle can’t. It’s a tough world out there, not everyone will stop committing crimes or atrocities in the face of support; and yet they still have a right to be supported. Human rights are complicated sometimes, and very challenging.) Also, a general caveat, no victim of an abuser ever has to forgive their abuser, no matter how much that abuser has changed. Ever. Ever ever ever.

But many people act like victims of other people, when they never have been, and use that to excuse the most horrific rhetoric (we see this when antis treat people who write taboo content like scum, they act like they’re being victimised, when they’re not; they’re choosing to engage in that content, with those authors and artists -> if they feel like a victim, it’s because they’re victimising themselves. They don’t believe in self accountability).

Anyway, lots of rambling, this is incredibly complex and you could write many books on the subject and still not be done. I’m not against callout culture, but I am against condoning bullying and abuse of ‘people who have never done anything to me but who are still shitty and it feels good to not manage my anger and just dump it on them instead’, especially under the umbrella of supposed ‘righteousness.’ I’m a big believer in rehabilitation, education and support programs for many types of criminal acts, as well as early intervention (i.e. spotting criminal behaviour in youth and acting early). 

Ultimately one of the most important things in these situations is self-accountability. This means holding someone accountable, but it also means offering support so a person can safely learn to be self-accountable, and process what that means. It’s scary to go ‘I’ve been abusive’ or ‘I have treated people badly and that’s on me’ - it’s scary to do that even just in an argument with a friend, let alone criminal acts. It’s naive and callous to assume that people who engage in behaviours we deem terrible, to be capable of confronting these kinds of truths without support. Like we don’t want to offer them tacit support, but we don’t have to!!! Of course we don’t have to be the ones who support them, but it’s important to support programs and facilities of people who are trained to support them.

Some countries are a lot worse than others. The USA, obviously, is pretty bad at offering this kind of support. Some European countries and some parts of Australia are getting better at it, etc. For example, we know that ‘prisoners and pets’ programs are actually really amazing for reducing recidivism and improving outcomes.

In the absence of support, all you can do is protect yourselves and sometimes, yes, publicly point out the people that aren’t going to change in the absence of support, so that everyone can be as potentially safe as possible.

Anyway it’s complicated. There are lots of caveats and disclaimers, it changes country by country, crime by crime, condition by condition, person by person, situation by situation. But yeah I think there is a radical difference between holding someone accountable, and just bullying and abusing them publicly. And I think that is something basic, that a lot of people on the internet have forgotten over the years, in these times of polarised, black and white thinking. 

I don’t know what the right answers are. I support Efnisien, but there are criminals I’ve known personally who have impacted me directly that I hate, and I struggle to view them as human beings worthy of human rights. This story challenges me too. Will I change my mind about those criminals? Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes I change my mind, sometimes I don’t. I generally support programs that help reduce recidivism, and repeatedly, those programs are ones that offer support, counselling, community and friendship, and connection to others. I think any program that reduces recidivism is a good one. But you’ll never eliminate recidivism entirely, and that makes the subject complicated. People will point to the failures, to justify getting rid of programs that have successes. They cost a lot of money, it’s...complicated. :/

But it’s sometimes hard to wrap your head around that when people who have never done anything wrong in a significant way struggle to get any kind of support themselves, but that’s a greater government welfare issue, and... well...

Now my brain is breaking and I have to stop talking, lol.

[georgianadarcies]

Now that you've re read the HP series I was wondering what you thought of it on the whole. (JK aside) if you can

the series is always going to have a very special place in my heart I think. I read it for the first time when I was in third grade and I just have sooo many good memories associated with it. I think now that I’ve reread it as an adult I can appreciate more of the complexities and nuance to it as well as just. relive the whole thing yk. and ofc, disclaimer that I don’t like jkr or condone her actions!! that being said I just have so much love for this series. god.

first off it’s just. it’s written pretty damn well for a children’s series, prose wise and story wise. while with its flaws, the world building is done so well and it’s always so fun to learn more in each book and explore different corners of the wizarding world. I also really really enjoy how from book five and onwards, the world becomes infinitely more complex. the corruption of the ministry and the justice system in particular is really well done and a lot of the depth is due to that.

there are also just so many characters that I love that it outweighs the ones that I hate. harry is a great protagonist with a good heart and while he doesn’t always make the best decisions, he is intelligent and underrated, honestly. ron is an icon!!! he’s kind and he’s also very flawed, but it makes him feel real and honest and while he isn’t that studious, he’s smart!! and he cares about his friends so much!! hermione has always meant a lot to me, too. I’ve often felt like a weird girl or like I’m too much, so I relate to her a lot on that. I think that despite her flaws, she’s also a really great character and person who is definitely someone I have looked up to in the past for the better. neville, luna, ginny, lupin, sirius, mcgonagall, the weasleys, even lily and james despite their limited content are all characters that I love. so much. reading the books is like being with my family <3

that being said there are also. a lot of characters I dislike. people who thirst over tom riddle are also insane btw that just. weirds me out. he’s still voldemort. snape, obviously, sucks — I think he’s an interesting character but a shitty shitty person who bullied his students for no reason or based off of stupid grudges. draco is a racist little prick who, while he could change at an older age, was an asshole just for the sake of being an asshole! like ok yeah sucks that voldemort was punishing him for his dad’s screw up or whatever, but he’s still just?? a jerk?? he’s a bully, he’s racist, and just altogether not a good guy. narcissa also has no appeal to me. like I can acknowledge the nuance in some characters but not like them. I don’t hate dumbledore, though. I think he’s a very flawed man, but I like that!! I think the more we learn about him the more interesting the character becomes. altogether I like him for the most part but I don’t love everything he does.

I only really have 1-2 ships that I actually care about ngl. romione was my first ship and they are still absolutely everything to me. their buildup is just. chefs kiss. they’re frenemies first, and then in book four. how it all begins to get going with ron’s raging jealousy when hermione is with krum. the subtle little hints of his crush through book five. hermione becoming incredibly jealous and heartbroken when he’s with lavender in book six and coming to terms with how she feels about him. and everything in book seven how they’re on the cusp of a relationship and then their first kiss. oh my god fucking iconic. I love them endlessly and I also. love harry’s reactions to everything. how by book six he knows that both of them like each other and is just 👀 or 🥴 whenever there’s something going on. witnessing it through his eyes is just increasingly amusing. I also like jily a lot more than I used to. I never disliked them but now I have a lot more appreciation for them. also, they died at 21. that never really sank in until now. it’s so young and it’s so heartbreaking like they had, what, four years together tops? AND THEY DIED AT TWENTY-ONE WHAT THE HELL. and hinny is like. ok. don’t really do much for me. but I don’t hate them or anything

these books just. mean everything to me and I’m bummed to be done but <3 I’m really glad I reread them

[piedinthepiper]

Before: Disease ˖ ⊹

Yandere!jimin x bully!reader

Summary: Before everything went down in his doctors office

Warnings: bullying, mention of smut, swearing

Wc: 2.1 k

A/n: someone requested the backstory to disease, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or pt. 2 to Disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

How could you be so perfect? Walking down the halls with your books tucked close to your chest. Talking and casually laughing with one of your friends. You always walked front and center. Like you were the mean girl. But you weren’t. Or you were, but he didn’t mind. You were his mean girl. You were the only reason Jimin hadn’t dropped out of school yet. He actually looked forward to every day now. Knowing that he’d see you. And if he was lucky he would maybe even get to talk to you. Or more you talk to him. Yell at him. Call him names and insult him. That’s what he loved so much about you. Your honesty. Always so straight forward. You were just perfect. Gorgeous. Always in skirts, sometimes they were really short. Not that he looked or anything, he was sure you would kill him if you found that out. But he was a man wasn’t he? What’s wrong about admiring a good pair of legs? You wanted to show them off didn’t you? He wondered if it was for him. If you knew the effect you had on him. The way he would think about you while touching himself. Pretending to fuck you pretty pussy instead of his cold hands. He knew it would happen one day. One day you would realise that the two of you were meant to be. He had known that since the day he met you. He would never forget that day.

“Watch it, nerd.”

The three first words you ever spoke to him. Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see who he bumped into, but also who that angelic voice belonged to. He was met with you. The most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked into. He stood there in awe. Taking in all your features. Eyes trailing up and down your body. Once he reached your eyes again he saw that your perfectly shaped eyebrows were frowning.

“Eww what’s wrong with you?!”

You asked sounding almost disgusted.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? Oh my god.”

You asked your friends who all looked even more disgusted than you.

“You could at least say sorry you know?”

“I- I’m sorry.”

“I- I-. You’re pathetic.”

You mocked him before turning around and walking away.

“Watch where you’re going next time loser.”

One of your friends added before she joined the rest. He didn’t care for your friends. All he could think about was you. Your words who were supposed to hurt him, had another impact. All he wanted to hear was your voice again.

Three years later his feelings were still the same. Your bond had only grown stronger after that eventful day. Your relationship had become a daily thing, and he couldn’t be more happy.

“God you’re such a nerd.”

You said as you sat down opposite of him, throwing your bag onto the floor next to you. He was studying for the next science exam in the library, one of the places he never thought he’d meet you. Not that he didn’t think you read or anything. It just didn’t suit you. You were too gorgeous to be surrounded by yellowing walls and cheap plastic chairs.

“Y/n!”

He said your name a little too excited, and was met with yet another disgusted facial expression.

“Anyways… you’re going to help me.”

You said.

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

You scoffed at his answer.

“It wasn’t a question.”

You added mockingly.

“You see, I need to pass the science exam. And the only one I know that has a miserable enough life to even care about science is you.”

He tried his best to hide his growing smile. You addressed him as someone you know. You think about him!

“I can make you pass.”

“You better.”

You got up from the chair and brushed off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“When you’re finished you’ll switch papers with me. I’ll make sure we’re seated next to each other.”

He was too busy checking out your figure to even comprehend what you were saying at that moment. You snapped your fingers at him.

“Hello? Stop fucking looking at me, freak.”

You said, and brought him back from his thoughts. That’s when he understood the reality of your words. If he switched papers with you he would fail, and he couldn’t put his career at risk. No matter how much he loved you.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

He stated and looked up at you, scared of what you would say next. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Again, it wasn’t a question.”

He got up from his chair when he saw you were about to turn around and leave.

“Seriously, y/n. I can’t fail. I won’t get into-“

“Blah blah blah. Does it look like I care? You’ll do as I say.”

You interrupted him. He gulped at your tone, sometimes you could be really scary.

“But-“

“Listen here, dumbass.”

You suddenly reached over the table and grabbed him by his collar.

“How hard is it to get into your thick skull, huh?You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t do as I say. Alright?”

He nodded carefully, and you let him go. You stayed bent over the table though. Jimin couldn’t help but look at your prominent cleavage. You slowly moved your hand to his face, he was ready to feel the embrace of your hand. He closed his eyes waiting for the moment, but was met with the sudden feeling of his glasses being slipped off his nose. He looked at you again, confused.

“Take this as a warning.”

You said coldly and threw the glasses on the grown. Thankfully they didn’t break. But the feeling of relief suddenly stopped as he watched your foot stomp down onto them. The sound of broken glass was heard through the library. He let out a little gasp.

“See you in a week.”

You said before you walked away, swaying your hips as you exited the library. What the fuck was he going to do?

He knew he had to help you. He didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, even if it meant you would put your hands on him. Besides he’d do anything to help you succeed. Maybe he would even get a thank you? He thought, bringing the science book even closer to his face. You had broken his glasses, a bit unnecessary in his opinion, but he won’t question your judgment. In order to study he had to have the book so close to his face he could feel it brush against his nose. He had come up with a plan though. If he studied even harder he could be able to finish your test super quick, and then he could just fill out the same answers on his own. It was his only option. So now he sat in his dark room with only the small table lamp lit. Book in his face as he desperately tried to remember everything for the exam.

He walked into the classroom, mentally going through all the information he read the night before. He saw you in the back. A finger twirling your gorgeous shiny hair as you looked him up and down. The sight alone was enough for his pants to tighten. He moved his textbooks down to his hips so you wouldn’t see the effect you had on him.

“Nice glasses.”

You sarcastically said. Giving him an evil smile. He pushed his new glasses higher up on his nose as he sat down beside you.

“Not even a thank you? How rude you are, Jimin.”

He almost moaned out loud when he heard his name fall from your lips. You rarely used his name, so whenever he was lucky enough to hear it from you he would usually have to go to the toilet and jerk off. If only you knew what you did to him.

“I’m sorry.”

He mumbled. You just scoffed at him before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair to listen to the teacher who started speaking.

The exam went great. He had to spend a few minutes on erasing your scribbles on his sheet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to hand in an exam with “nerd” written all over it. But it went well, you didn’t get caught and both of you would get a good grade. He couldn’t be more happy. Until he saw you approaching him. He was sat outside, eating his lunch in his usual spot. You would always eat with the rest of the popular people inside. You would never eat outside in a secluded area on the ground, that’s just not you. You wouldn’t hide, like he did. So he knew you didn’t come to join him. He quickly swallowed before you were able to talk to him. Ready to hear whatever you had to say. But you walked right passed him. He followed you and your friends with his gaze as he saw the three of you heading to the parking lot. He realised that he wouldn’t get a thank you, that he wouldn’t even get to talk to you after he just saved your ass.

“Stand up.”

He suddenly heard your voice coming from right beside him. He looked up to find you with your hands on your hips. A displeased look painted your face. Again, he swallowed before standing up.

“You fucking creep!”

You yelled at him before delivering a harsh slap to his face. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He reached for his cheek that had already turned red. He looked at you and found your face was in pure shock. Did he really moan that loudly?

“Did he just-“

He heard one of your friends whisper to the other. His blood went cold, he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. Your mouth turned slowly into a devilish smile.

“How fucking pathetic was that?”

You started laughing, and your friends followed. He tried to make himself smaller. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He stuttered out and looked down at the ground. To his horror he found out that his pants was definitely bulging as well. He crossed his hands quickly over the area, not wanting to be tormented yet again. But it was too late. You looked him up and down.

“Please, don’t tell me you have a boner.”

You let out a small laugh, a “eww” was heard from your friend. You stepped closer to him. So close that his back had to press up against the concrete wall. You looked him deep in the eyes, your smile turning into a smirk. God, he felt like coming just from you being so close. Smelling your perfume and feeling your hands on his chest. His breathing rapidly increased.

“Do you think I’m hot, Jimin?”

You whispered to him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what you were saying. Too focused on the feeling of your manicured hands on him. Eventually he desperately he nodded.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

You asked with a small laugh. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this his chance? Was this the moment he finally got you? He nodded yet again. You tsked at him as he felt your sharp nail tracing his cheekbone.

“Use your words.”

You said.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

He heard one of your friends say from behind you. He didn’t look at her, only taking you in. He couldn’t believe this.

“Shut up!”

You quickly looked at your friend. Warning her in a mean tone. You turned back to him. Finding his dark eyes.

“Jimin was just about to say something.”

He couldn’t even remember his own name in the moment. Every single one of his senses was filled with you. He feared he would actually orgasm soon if you didn’t back off.

“Please- Y/n. Yes, I want to fuck you so bad!”

He begged. Almost yelling at you out of desperation. In the next moment you were laughing. He didn’t understand what he did that was so funny. Maybe he had been a little too forward, but you didn’t seem to care about that in the first place.

“Oh god. You’re almost cute.”

You said as your fit of laughter came to a stop. You stepped away from him, crossing your arms.

“I would never ever fuck you, pervert.”

Your tone turned from sensual to mean right away. His heart dropped to his stomach as your friends laughed at him.

“You’re so dumb! You really thought you had a chance with me! I wouldn’t even blow you.”

Yet again he felt like he wanted to disappear. How could you be so evil? So absolutely heartless? In that moment he realised what he had to do. He was going to get his revenge one day. Just you wait.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[dommexbritt]

FONDUE FOR TWO W/ SUE SYLVESTER // Fri. Feb 26th release

Hello, and welcome to the first ever and extra special edition of Fondue for Two on the Fondue Pot Podcast. A show where I, your host, Brittany S Pierce will ask the burning cheese melting questions so that you don’t have to. Today we have a line up of parents to shed a little light on their feelings on campus, school policy, and their terrible children... 

Now, first we have a well known alumni, renowned cheerleading coach, and all around bad guy... according to a whole slew of lawsuits but don't expect her lawyers to say so. 

Hello, welcome, I hope your time here this week has been as exciting as it used to be back in your day. Just as a background on you and to start, can you please introduce yourself to our listeners?. Let us know how many children you have attending the school and because you're an alumni, anything about today's campus that looks a little different now than how it used to....

Sue: It's good to be here, Miss Pierce, and thank you for the warm welcome.  First off, before I introduce myself, let me just say that none of those allegations were ever proven in a court of law. 

To the point, though, if your listeners don't know me then they should.  Sue Sylvester, cheerleading icon, one of the most successful coaches in the history of our sport.  I have two children attending this school, although whether I acknowledge them as such depends on their grades.

As for this campus...well, Brittany, frankly it's hideous.  This used to be a place for the elite.  The best of the best.  Scholarships?  What is this, Communist Venezuela?  I'd be willing to accept the kids who can pay for themselves, because why not let them spend their money, that's the American way.  But a scholarship?  Embarrassing.  Those kids drag this entire campus down.

B: You heard that Devereux? Sue Sylvester herself, coming at you. 

I know your daughters. 

SHOUT OUT TO TEDDY SYLVESTER ON THE TINY ECHO MIC~~   

As far as the rest of the campus and scholarships, that seems like a totally weird thing to be bothered by but I know a lot of people in your generation have a lot of anger issues from the prohibition days. I'll try not to ask too many rage inducing questions, to be accommodating. 

But while we are on the topic of progressive and dynamic school changes... In regards to the retesting that has been and continues to be issued, do you have a stance on the new tests validity? This has been a hot topic on campus for months since the holidays last year, and I'd love to get some parent perspective on it.

S: Prohibition?  How old do you think I am, exactly, Brittany?  That was repealed in 1933, and I certainly wasn't around to see it.  Tragic day anyway, this country would have been far better off it weren't filled with alcoholic louts. 

See, a person might think I'd be against something like that - after all, your mark is your mark and it's as simple as that.  But I am in favor of tests.  If someone really doesn't have what it takes to be a Dominant?  Tell them so.  Make them a submissive, slap some cuffs on them, and go on with your life.  And those people who show that they're more than just a submissive?  Good for them!  Upward mobility, Brittany, that's what this country was built on.

B: 1933. Yeah I totally know. This campus must have been, like, an entirely different walk of life back then. 

That is really understanding of you. I bet a lot of the students who are listening that might of retested feel pretty reassured that you think so. 

Follow up question, if you were still a student and faced with a retest yourself do you suspect it would impact your current role?

S: I...was not here in 1933, Brittany.  I wasn't even born. 

As they should be.  They should understand, like everyone else in this great country, that testing is the backbone of education.  If you test well, it means that you're a good student, and simple as that. 

Absolutely not.  I was born a Dominant, I will die a Dominant, and there is no test on Earth I could take that would ever say otherwise.  Sue Sylvester does not fail.

B: Uh-huh.  All of that is a totally interesting theory. 

It's pretty cool to be secure in your role. Would you like to share a fist bump with me on it?

S: A theory?  Brittany, unlike the president I can show you my birth certificate.

 Yes, of course - much more hygienic than a handshake, I believe.

[ * muffled fist bump sounds ] 

B:  Moving on... 

 Any feelings on the class list not including French courses or modeled under typical French curriculum here at Devereux Academy?

S: It's the best decision they could have made.  What was a student in Florida going to need French for?  I'm sure if they wanted to say "I surrender," or ask for cheese and a baguette, they can do that just as easily in a proper language.  And what did their curriculum ever teach them?  How to cut the heads off of women who were only enjoying a delicious piece of cake?

B: OH! Thank you for saying CHEESE.

 [ * buzzer sound ]  

That is the HOT WORD today and lined up perfectly with the fondue pot being just warm enough. Please help yourself. It's my own cheddar gouda blend and there are plenty of dipper items to dip. I recommend the marshmallows... 

The HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] brings the focus in on you personally and I have one very burning question for you that I'm sure a ton of our listers who know anything there is to know about you are on the edge of their seats wondering. 

 Is it true that you are legally married to yourself?

S: I haven't had a proper fondue since the seventies.  And now that I think about it, Dick Cheney never did pay for the vegetables.  

[ muffled chewing sounds ]

 [ loud swallow ] 

That is completely true, in fact.  I have some lovely pictures from the ceremony here, if you'd like to look them over.  Isn't that tracksuit stunning?  I mean, it's more me that's stunning than the tracksuit, but still.

B: Wow..it.. it actually is super good looking. Did you save it for any of your daughters to wear at their wedding?

S: Thank you - I'm glad that you can appreciate how tasteful it was.  I did save it, but not for them - it's in a glass case on a mannequin of my exact proportions in my office at home.

B: Oh, right of course. 

I'd like to also ask, since you're solo-married, would you ever consider entering into a long term claim with yourself as well?

S: Oh god no.  I would never wear a collar for anyone, not even myself.  I can't even stomach the thought of it.

B: Thank you for answering those. That was the HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] and a dip into Sue Sylvester. 

Now, we're nearing the end of our time here, there are just a few more things I feel we should cover while I have you here. 

As a Legacy I'm sure you're super aware of the type of pressures that can bring but, do you have an idea or a guess of what it might be like for a child of a well known individual like yourself to be wading through gossip and the literal meaning of the word legacy in your wake?

S: Of course - it's been a true pleasure knowing there are talented journalists like yourself on campus, Brittany. 

I have no doubt that it's the most difficult thing in the world to follow someone like me.  Knowing that everyone who looks at them is constantly comparing them to me, wondering when they'll follow in my footsteps and become more like me, I cannot imagine that sort of pressure.  But I trained them, molded them, just like any legacy parent should do, and I believe they're capable.

B: Thank you Sue, I super appreciate you saying that. I'm going to save it as a sound bite to play later. 

You heard it here folks, one Sue Sylvester believes her daughters to be trained an capable. It totally sounds like you're super proud, that's amazing. Speaking of when you were attending though, there is one more personal item my assistant has pointed out to me that I have yet to touch on and I think everyone would like to hear your side... 

I heard that when you were here at Devereux the then Intro to Dominance teacher reportedly had a public breakdown and resigned. Through the help of school records I have tracked down and reached out to said retired teacher and although they sounded ancient like the skeleton from tales from the crypt. They had this to say about it, and I quote:

"I never thought that the devil walked on Earth, and then I met Sue Sylvester.  How Devereux managed to survive her long enough to let her graduate, I'll never know.  That woman tried to kill me on at least three occasions, and whether anyone could prove it or not I know the truth.  She said on day one that I sounded like a Hippo wheezing in a desert, and from then on she had it in for me." 

 Do you have a comment?

S: Oh, them being capable doesn't mean that they'll actually put in the effort. Only that I gave them every tool possible to help them on their way.  What they do with that is up to them. 

 [ sound of Sue, laughing uproariously ] 

I can't believe that old bat hasn't keeled over in her study, surrounded by her little ceramic figurines and being gnawed on by the eighty seven cats I'm sure she owns.  I do have a comment, actually.  Now that the statute of limitations has expired, I'll say that I actually tried to kill her on at least seven different occasions, and she must have missed the other four.  And with the benefit of hindsight, she sounded less like a hippo wheezing than like the musty specter of death in a Vincent Price movie.

B: Seven.  Well. I don't know if legally I should air that but I bet your lawyers will be on it if there is any trouble. 

I also want to take a moment and add a disclaimer here, this podcast or any part of Devereux administration does not condone the use of violence or bullying against their employees. 

Well, that has been a ride. And I'd really like to thank you for taking the time to talk with me and give us your sizzling take on current goings on of our school. 

Before we go, and last of all... off the top you your head, what’s the hottest dish you have to serve up for us? Any context.

S: I, on the other hand, absolutely condone the use of violence.  How else do people learn? 

It's been a genuine pleasure, Brittany, and thank you for doing the good lord's work and getting the news out to your fellow students. 

The hottest dish I've got for you...oh, I've got just the thing.  I bet no one who goes here has ever figured this out, so consider this a Sue Sylvester exclusive.  If you find just the right brick to press on in the library, you can open a secret door.  Inside is a private gym and training facility that I dubbed "the room of pain."  The first one to find it will find a one hundred dollar gift card for Bullwinkle's Restaurant hidden somewhere inside.

B: WOAH. Completely unexpected dish!! You heard it here first people, a treasure hunt on our very own campus is now afoot. 

That was Sue Sylvester, this is Fondue For Two, and I am Brittany S Pierce. 

Signing off.

[renorasims]

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone bullying in any shape of form of the creator in question / other creators (that use adlfy) / myself or anyone that responds to this post! All very immature/hateful/hurtful remarks that do not carry on to the conversation will be removed and depending on the severity (threatening someone, etc) of those remarks... I will block you as well. I made this video and post for anyone that uses Adfly/Short.e to shed some light on this returning discussion and most importantly; the alternatives. 

After very careful consideration of all the risks I'm taking by making this post I felt a bit obligated to the community, as a fellow creator that also monetizes her CC, to take a stand on this. I will accept any fall out regarding this post. before we continue I’d like to express my gratitude to a group of people who helped me out in lots of ways! <333 English is not my first language so their help has been highly appreciated! I could not silently stand by anymore while children, grown ups, friends... everyone actually risks to pay lots of money to save their PC's from destruction for $0,02485 dollars. Per click. I did the math in the highest payout rate, USA. I made a short video to demonstrate what happened when I clicked on Adfly / short.e links. Best to be watched on Desktop / iPad / bigger screens than phone.

Important to know

I'm on an iMac. This makes it sooo much less bad for me than Windows Users. Also the only reason why I was able to do this without risking my computer. OS X pretty much has an build-in ironclad protection to files shown in the video. 

Most of the people in this community are on a PC which makes them so much more vulnerable to all the shit that auto downloads and in some cases installs itself, without you having any say in it, as you can see.

As you can see in the vid; I did not click on the files that started downloading themselves. Know that Windows users are even more at risk(!) since these files (virus exe) can start installing themselves on their own. I have to give my iMac a password to install ANY software. That's why I wasn't at risk during the demo's.

I have to admit that the demo's in the vid are DEFINITELY not worst case scenarios! Please be mindful of that! I freed up a lot of desktop space as you can see for the endless pop-up ads to appear which 'unfortunately' did not occur this time around. In lots cases I get lost in an endless loop of shortners (never arriving at the promised directory) or a massive amounts of pop ups open forcing me to close the shortner window altogether. I cannot even comprehend how much worse it is for Windows users!

Just don't click on the ads! Only stupid / too young / non tech-savvy /old people click on them. If you don't click on them it's OK. So it's a non issue.

These are literal comments I've seen recently and in the past regarding this topic. THIS IS NOT TRUE! as you can see I did not click on ANY of the ads unless they required to be closed through the ad 'close' section to make sure the timer continues to run. Through the years of development for these ads; most of them require you to click 'close' (engage with them) before the countdown of Adfly/Short.e continues to run again. How am I supposed to get to your content if i can't click 'close' then?! 

Also; the extra tabs that open need to be closed first before the timer starts running again. And when you close them they can auto download a file you didn't clicked on. In the past they were less aggressive I agree. You could "safely" wait out those 5 sec and get to the designated URL of the CC. In most cases this isn't an option anymore.

Regarding this post: I've said everything I wanted to say about this topic. I will not engage in endless discussions in the comments. tbh I might not even engage at all since I don't have anything more/new to say about this.

How the hell am I supposed to get something in return for all that hard work I put into my CC then ?!

I'll elaborate on the alternatives in this post HERE. This post is already too long.

[scripttorture]

The Effect of Torture on Investigations

While I’ve talked about this before it’s usually been either in response to asks like this one or as a smaller part of masterpost focused on something else. I thought it might be useful to bring together some examples showing why torture cripples investigation.

I’ve talked about what a good investigation looks like here. I’ve talked about why torture doesn’t work as an interrogation technique here. And I’ve talked about writing a failed interrogation scene using torture here.

But an organisation’s choice to use torture as part of an interrogation effects far more then just that interrogation and that individual victim. It has wider effects on the organisation and any investigations taking place.

Factors effecting Investigations directly

Members of the general public are much less likely to come forward with information if an organisation uses torture. This destroys the main source of new information in any investigation.

Torture generates a lot of lies and torturers (like every body else) can’t really tell when someone is lying.

Torture generates a lot of lies and it also destroys an organisation’s ability to fact check the information it receives. Torturers can (and do) go back and try to make victims change statements in order to fit with any new evidence or theories that arrive. Which further obscures the truth.

Torturers generally don’t take part in genuine investigative work. They spend the majority of their time at work torturing or otherwise engaged in unproductive activity. Which means there are effectively less investigators. Any genuine investigators are trying to do the work of several people.

Factors effecting Investigators

Genuine investigators are forced to waste time a lot of time chasing up false information generated by torture.

Genuine investigators are undermined and presented as lazy or ineffective by torturers, because the investigators are spending most of their time trying to confirm (or disprove) ‘information’ from torture rather than bringing in new information or leads.

Torturers tend to form cliques, looking down on non-torturers and they tend to be highly competitive. This often creates a toxic work environment for non-torturers within an organisation, making work more stressful and more difficult then it needs to be.

Torturers often disobey orders, taking or disrupting physical evidence and seizing or targetting prisoners even when they’re told not to. This disrupts the work of genuine investigators and blocks their access to materials and people they need in order to do their job.

Non-torturers are put under pressure to condone, cover up or take part in torture. There’s often a rise in bullying and harassment which makes it harder for genuine investigators to work.

Torturers undermine teamwork generally. They tend to be highly competitive and as a result they’re reluctant to share information. Now the information torturers have is probably wrong, but that doesn’t stop them from creating a working environment where investigators don’t share information unless they have to.

Factors effecting the Organisation as a whole

Because torturers regularly disobey or ignore orders they contribute to an erosion of authority and discipline. They make disobedience normal.

The polarising effect they have eventually leads to organisations fracturing into factions. Sometimes this is as simple as factions that support or oppose torture but because torturers are competitive it can also mean opposing factions of torturers vying against each other. This leads to members of the organisation spending more time working against each other then together. In extreme cases it can lead to violence between different sub-groups and the destruction of the organisation as a whole.

Work generally becomes a lot more pressurised and stressful. This can lead to a high staff turnover rate, with a lot of new recruits leaving early and a lot of older experienced staff leaving because they feel unsupported.

Torturers tend to suffer from ‘deskilling’; the more time they spend the torturing the less they’re practicing skills necessary for their actual job. They become less competent and this has the knock on effect of depriving any new recruits of competent, experienced colleagues who can train and advise them.

The end result is that all of these factors combine to make an organisation that routinely tortures less able to gather accurate information and less able to use that information effectively.

As an example of how these factors combine I’m going to create a couple of rough, illustrative scenarios:

Imagine a group of 50 people tasked with investigating a particular incident. Five of them are torturers, so they’re not actually investigating anything. This takes our number down to 45.

Then we remember that the torturers are generating information, even if it’s false. Which the other members are investigating.

Let’s go with low estimates. Let’s suggest each torturer has one victim a day (this is unlikely, real numbers are probably much higher) and out of those they get an average of two ‘possible leads’ each day (this would vary a lot, some victims would say nothing, some might throw out as many as twenty names in a day). Let’s also pretend that a potential lead can be investigated by one person (this is inaccurate, I’d generally expect at least 2-3 people for each new ‘lead’.).

We’ve just got rid of ten more people on the first day.

Let’s pretend that it takes three days to investigate a lead. This is also a very low estimate, properly following up a lead can take weeks.

With our low-estimate fictional organisation we’ve reduced the amount of people doing useful work to 15 in the first three days.

Fifteen people trying to do the work of 50, while the torturers keep generating lies that are wasting the time of everyone else.

My final example is to show how the lies that come from torture spiral, creating so much misinformation that it can be difficult to prove it’s false.

Say a torturer takes in a random person. This first victim knows nothing about the terrorist group but if they don’t give a name then they’re going to keep being tortured.

So they tell the torturer Wednesday Adams is definitely the leader of the terrorists in this area.

Now a genuine investigator is wasting time looking for Wednesday Adams. May be they come back in a week and say that no such person exists.

By that point the torturer has been asking a lot of people about Wednesday Adams. And some of them will have sworn they saw Wednesday Adams, that Wednesday Adams was behind that attack and that she has links to this other organisation and also that thing I saw on the news once and- So on.

It spirals.

May be it gets to the point where the torturer finally accepts there’s no ‘Wednesday Adams’ on the census. But by that point they’ve stacked a lot of their personal reputation on the existence of this shadowy leader.

So rather than admit they’re just wrong, they assume ‘Wednesday Adams’ is a pseudonym and now they’re asking everyone what her real name is. Now they have six different possible ‘real identities’ for Wednesday Adams.

And this is how organisations can fail to notice that torture doesn’t work.

Torture cripples investigations. It fractures organisations.

And it leaves behind people with complex health problems that are rarely treated properly. On all sides.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[mrwinterr]

The Consequence [3]

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Charles Blackwood x Female Reader

Summary: The reader is in search of Charles Blackwood as he’s been missing for several days and not once considering the warning that no good ever comes from being associated with a Blackwood.

Warnings: We Have Always Lived in the Castle spoilers (book and film). Smut (unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral [male and female receiving], cum stuff - yeah, I said that) and a swear starts below the cut. I don’t have to remind y’all this is semi/non-canon, right? We all know the kind of character Charles Blackwood is, but for fanfic purposes, I had to make him this way without completely tarnishing his other traits. 

Title Inspiration: “The Consequence” by You Me At Six

Disclaimer: There are characters, dialogue and references from the actual book and film, We Have Always Lived in the Castle. They belong to the author and I take no credit for any of these elements. 

A/N: As of this post, I’ve completed transferring what little of a masterlist I had to begin with on this new account. There’s three more parts to this series left. I honestly can’t tell you when they’re going to drop. They will regardless if anyone is still keeping up with this. 

P R E S E N T

On the way to the Blackwood house, you stopped at a rest area and were able to call your friend as promised. She was relieved to hear back from you, but you were kind of skeptic as to how much everyone else seemed to know about your fiancé’s past than you did. You recounted part of the events that had taken place at Stella’s, just briefly telling her about how much this town despised the Blackwoods. Charles never liked to talk about his family other than how his father was strict and had cut ties with his relatives. You needed clarity and that could only be provided by the man himself.

“Did you know about the Blackwood murder?” You asked your friend quietly over the phone and making sure no one was eavesdropping. This town now had you a bit self-conscious when talking freely of the Blackwood family. She reluctantly sighed and admitted to having heard of it. When you asked why she had never once mentioned that fact about Charles’ background during the early days of your relationship, she responded with how it wasn’t in her place and that Charles never spoke to her about it, believing it may have just all been gossip, which people seem to be really, really good at, and besides, the accused suspect was acquitted.

Charles was as independent as he could be before his father, the only other remaining member in his household, passed away. You had met the patriarch a few times and he intimidated the hell out of you. If you thought your dad was bad, Arthur Blackwood was on another level of discipline. He praised Charles for finding a “pretty one” yet questioned your effectiveness as a wife. While Charles told you not to listen to him, it still bothered you because you’ve heard that kind of talk your whole life from your own father. They made you believe to that you had to be the best damn housewife you could be. You didn’t mind having to fend for yourself at times and you had the basics covered but you didn’t believe you were to live a life full of housework and Charles never chastised you about it. Charles was good to you. How both your fathers were wrong.

After speaking with your friend, who tried to convince you to come back home once more, you soon found a road to follow up the hill to travel on. You began to hear chanting and it sounded like children, so the closer you got the more audible it became, and it was definitely children. Deciding to follow it, you soon found yourself staring at a big house, the top half black and destroyed, confirming the house fire you learned about today. This was the Blackwood house. 

The children’s voices broke your gaze from the castle and you watched as a group of kids throw random objects at the door shouting, “Merricat,” over and over, along with a few awful stuff like, “you should’ve burned with the rest of your things,” “I bet you like to eat babies,” and more to provoke someone or something to come out. When did kids learn to be so awful at a young age? This town was a real piece of work, you thought to yourself. 

You continued to stare as one of the kids started up the steps of the house now resorting to name calling. As soon as an explicit word spewed out of an older kid’s mouth, you had enough. You weren’t sure the kind of people you were about to defend exactly but surely these kids were trespassing and harassing the inhabitants for no real reason other than for their own amusement.

Setting your suitcase down, you walked towards the kids and spoke, “Hey, that’s enough! What did those girls ever do to you? Didn’t your parents ever teach you bullying is wrong?” Their heads turned to you fast and soon you found yourself being a target of their ridicule, now calling you a fellow witch but as you paid no mind to their jeers, they went back to calling out to Merricat. 

Then the tumblers of the door started to echo, signifying that someone was coming out. One of the doors pulled open revealing a teenaged girl with a blank expression on her face, clearly unmoved by the teasing. The children squealed in fear, not prepared to face the subject of their torment. They tripped over their own feet trying to flee the area as soon as they could while also hastily apologizing for their nasty behavior.

None of them seemed to remember you standing nearby watching the whole thing as they scattered and disappeared from view. You turned to look back at the front door, still open and the young girl unfazed, but now staring intently at you. You stared back for a few seconds before speaking, “hello,” you greeted with a small wave to her. You were met with no response, so you kept speaking, “do they do that often?” you asked referring to the malicious children, but she still stared at you. “I’m sorry that you have to go through that. I’m sure none of that is true,” but what did you know other than this girl was potentially related to Charles and you needed to gain her trust to get answers, right? It was wrong but you had to do whatever you could to find Charles, even if it meant manipulation.

Proceeding with caution, you decided to continue, “you must be Merricat,” you gathered that much from the children’s bullying and when she still hadn’t moved, you cautiously began to take a few steps forward, only for her to quickly shut the door close. You had barely made it to the steps when you begged for her to wait and hear you out. You knocked on the door and decided to talk through it, hoping she or someone else would hear you.  

“I apologize for intruding on your property. I can assure you I mean no harm, but I couldn’t standby as I heard those children shout those nasty things.” Surely, she had to have still been standing nearby inside, so you continued, hoping to coax someone to come out, “I can’t even begin to understand how children can learn to be so rotten at a young age and let alone their parents condone that behavior.” After a few seconds, you swore you faintly heard a creak in a step from inside; someone was listening to you. You proceeded to tell them your name and posed as a wanderer passing by. Now sitting on the steps of the house, you stared at the damaged furniture scattered in front of the house. It’s a shame to see it all destroyed. You almost let Charles’ name slip from your lips when you recalled how their families had a falling out, so perhaps it was best to not mention Charles just yet. You weren’t even sure if he’d been this way already, you couldn’t take the townspeople word for anything that much you learned.

The door opened just a crack and you quickly turned to your side. You couldn’t see anyone just yet until it opened wider, so you began to stand up from your sitting position. Soon, you were met with a different woman, who seemed to be around your age. She looked pristine with her brown hair up, bright blue eyes and in a white, makeshift dress that you mentally applauded her for being creative with on the fabric. Her clothes must’ve burned in the fire. You noticed the younger one, the one you were having a staring contest with earlier, stood close behind. The woman offered you a small smile, which you returned, and just like that you knew your plan had worked.

The woman introduced herself to you as Constance Blackwood and her younger sister Mary Katherine or Merricat. She explained how she overheard you trying your best to defend them from the children outside and your story. You properly reintroduced yourself to the two of them, Constance shaking your hand and Merricat staring at it. She made you a little nervous, but you knew it was because you were a stranger. You probably would be suspicious too if you were shut out and casted away from society for who knows how long. Social skills weren’t exactly going to be on the top of the personality trait for a person of such. She would be one that would take more effort to ease up to. Constance noticed your suitcase by your feet and your tired eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you must’ve looked within the last two days of travel. She invited you in much to the dismay of the younger Blackwood as you could tell from her body language. Her face was still unnerved, but you could still sense her coldness.

Constance apologized for the state of their home and you couldn’t believe she even had the audacity to when you knew the fire was an unfortunate event. To lose most of everything one owned and having to rebuild took a lot on a person and you praised the two for their high spirits. While she warned there wasn’t much to work with of the house being in its current condition, she offered you a spot until you figured where you should head to next. It was a very kind gesture of someone to make to a complete stranger, but she must’ve really been appreciative of your actions from earlier. She was definitely one you could work with. 

You mentioned how you were no stranger to bullying and teasing from where you came from. You were picked on during your childhood because you didn’t like to partake in other kids’ version of fun, teachers weren’t that helpful to your cause and added on with the mental abuse your father gave you your whole life. You didn’t know how you managed to hold your ground and keep it up until you met the one person who’d changed your life.

P A S T

Growing up you frequented the library quite a lot, then the moment you got your own notebook and filled it up, you realized you had a thing for writing. You enjoyed documenting and writing short stories. It consumed a lot of your time. You were in your own little world and you were fine with it because it made you happy, but as it turned out, that didn’t mean it made those around you happy. If you didn’t hear it from your parents, who were puzzled that their eldest child wasn’t finding herself a nice, young man or honing up on household skills, then you heard it from concerned teachers because you weren’t socializing enough. You weren’t hurting anybody, but they were hurting you and one day you just had enough.

During another lecture from your father, he actually laughed at the idea of you making a career out of writing. The lack of support really hurt coming from your own flesh and blood. He compared you to the other model kids and the difference in compliancy between you and your younger siblings. You needed to learn your place in society apparently.

You didn’t know exactly where to run off to, but you went as far as your feet could take you from the village without deterring off too far. You plopped down on a curb and were too exhausted to be alarmed when a stranger soon stood next to you. He crouched down to your level and asked what was wrong. You didn’t respond, mind too clouded with frustration, you didn’t even look at him. Maybe he’d go away.  

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re going to be ok,” he spoke up.

Great, you thought to yourself, “I’m ok,” you said unconvincingly.

“Are you really? You wanna talk about it? It could help,” he suggested.

You sighed loudly, still not looking in his direction, “if I tell you, will you finally leave?”

“Anything you want,” he affirmed.

“Fine. Family drama. There. Goodbye,” you kept it short, but he made no movement to leave, “you said you’d leave if I told you. Why are you still here?”

“You didn’t really tell me anything,” he replied.

“Why do you even care?” You pushed.

“I don’t know. I’m drawn to you I guess,” he said.

“You don’t know me,” you stated.

“True, but I’d like to.”

“Why?”

“You’re quite inquisitive, aren’t you?” He said and you could almost feel him smirking.

“I’ve been told that my whole life,” you said as if that’s a real bad thing.

“I like that.”

“Well, you’d the be the first.”

“I’m Charles,” he introduced himself. When you finally turned to look at him, you paused before going to do the same. He was gorgeous. He gave you a smile, his blue eyes swirled, and hair infused with a lighter shade, in contrast to the natural dark brown, highlighted the front end and top of his fluffy hair. Where has he been your whole life?

When you gathered the sense to tell him your name, you decided you had nothing to lose and tell him what was troubling you. You told him about your aspirations, the lack of support you’ve been receiving lately and that you were feeling increasingly discouraged each day about chasing that dream caused by your own father. You told him that your whole life, you had been brought up to become a proper housewife and that your dream wasn’t going to provide for you, that you needed a man. You told him that the very thought and vision of your life made you more sad than angry.

He listened to every single thing. He didn’t judge you. He didn’t laugh or argue against you as you confined in him. He did tell you that you were capable of creating your own future. You could take all that you’d been shoved to learn and use it towards your own goals. If your own family wasn’t going to support you, then they were going to have to deal with it. You needed to start doing things for you. Charles gave you a sense of hope and he enlightened a whole new vision for you.

“Just know, you’re not your parents…you’re you,” he gave one last advice and you didn’t even realize you’d cracked a tiny small then he muttered quietly, almost to himself, but you still heard it, “wow, you’re so pretty.” After he regained composure, he encouraged you to continue writing and that he’d love to read your work if you’d let him. You felt weak because you felt you could dissolve right there in front of him and bare your soul written in your notebooks for him. 

The two of you spent the whole day getting to know about each other. It was a slight stab when you discovered he didn’t live within your village, but he wasn’t based pretty far. He frequented this village for business purposes and nothing more, but you’d give him another reason to. He’d just returned from a trip in Europe, which enthralled you as he spoke of all the sights he saw. You hated to admit it then, but you were drawn to him too.

Not much had changed at home. You’ve been seeing Charles for a few months now, as much as you could when he visited your village. His business here was long over with, but he came back to see you. This kind of relationship with someone was all new to you. You never entertained the thought of being personal or intimate with anyone because finding a man wasn’t on the top of your list. With Charles, it was easy to go with the flow and besides how could you say no to him? You picked up on the trait that he had a way with words and as a result could be very persuasive. It seemed to rub off on you as you were able to escape your homelife easily as often as you had been, which is how you found yourself in a private room of a motel that Charles was a regular at while he visited you.

You both had returned from a nice dinner and a night out at the dance hall, where you didn’t realize how much fun dancing was. There was always something new with him. You sat at the foot of the bed and watched him walk around the small room. He was leaving to go back home tomorrow, and you both wanted tonight to be special.

He sat next to you, facing you, and it was unspoken but there was full consent as your eyes shone with such eagerness, he slowly leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started slow, a hand grasped the back of your neck to deepen and keep your lips locked as you started to lean back and lie on the bed, dragging him down with you. He pulled your body up to the center of the bed with little effort before getting on top of you. As he braced himself with one arm, his other hand ran down your throat, cupped your breast eliciting the first of many noises from you that night. When he gave it a light squeeze you gasped at how it felt, providing an opening for him to slip his tongue in your mouth.

You’d both made out enough times and you knew it worked Charles up judging by the hardness that would rut against your lower region. By now, the kisses became more feral, he had to detach his lips from you for some air. He looked into your eyes, cradled the side of your face again, his thumb grazing your cheek gently, “I want you. I want you so bad, baby,” he pleaded. 

You stared at him for a few seconds as you fought yourself internally. This was going to be your first time. What if it ruined everything? You knew it was coming. You wanted to please him but what if you’d fail miserably? “Charles,” you started and wrapped your fingers around his wrist then voiced how you’d never done anything like this with anyone. He assured you that you couldn’t do anything wrong to him. It wasn’t enough of a confidence booster, but you felt compelled to please him. His hips ground into yours and your body answered for you by thrusting your own upwards to meet his.

He whined burying his face in your neck, “I promise we can stop whenever you want. You just say the word,” he said breathlessly against your throat. You brought his face back up to yours and reconnected your lips. Your dress had ridden up from his hips’ constant gyrations, giving Charles less of a hassle to touch your legs. His large hands slipped underneath your panties from the waistband to grope at your backside then snuck back out to start running them up and down your thighs, reveling in the soft skin. He gently massaged the inner parts of your thighs before his fingers started testing the waters at your clothed core. Your eyes popped open when you felt him push aside the material and his fingers starting to probe your folds and feel the wetness pooling. He must’ve sensed the sudden stiffness of your body as he withdrew his fingers from you. He broke the kiss once more to look at you. He wanted to make sure you were still okay with this. “Do you trust me?” He asked. You nodded, but he shook his head, “no, baby girl, I need to hear you say you want this-“

“I do. I do want this, Charles,” you answered almost too quickly, afraid you’d lose him then and there. You were a little embarrassed for wanting something you didn’t have much experience in, but months of heavy petting wasn’t going to keep you both satisfied much longer. Go big or go home. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you just have to trust me,” he assured you.

“I trust you,” and to prove it, you moved to sit up and remove your dress. His eyes cast down at your chest still confined by your bra. You felt a sense of pride when you caught him biting his bottom lip. His moment of weakness allowed you to take control. You grabbed his hands and placed them back on your breasts. He snapped out of his trance and his hands began to wander behind your back to the clasp of your bra. Once unhooked, bra tossed aside, he lowered his head and his mouth instantly attached itself to a nipple. He paid attention to each and only the increase intake of your breathing and harsh tugs at his hair, were indicators for him to move on.

You watched as he sat up to remove his clothes and the sight of him bare always left you in awe. He reclaimed his position over you and lips with such fervor then started trailing down your body. You picked your head up to see him leave kisses around your abdomen and hips. Your legs spread apart for him instinctively and when Charles hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties, he looked up at you once more only for you to give him a nod. When the last bit of your garments was taken care of, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until the first bit of contact his mouth made with you. Your head dropped back down, hips bucking involuntarily, as he experimentally flicked the tip of his tongue to get a taste of your arousal. He brought an arm over your hips to keep them buckled down before he began his onslaught.

Charles seemed to love what he sampled; his tongue ran a stripe up your folds before going to suck on your clit. He continued this method until he was sure you were enjoying it and judging by your moans increasing in volume mixed with your ragged breathing, you were. You started to reach a brink you were almost scared of because your body was experiencing a new height of pleasure.

To kick it up a notch, he slowly inserted a finger in you. Your hips jerked once more under the arm, deciding you wanted to feel more, he pushed in another finger, this time the force of your hips bucked up even harder. You subconsciously began massaging your own breasts, wanting to feel pleasure all over. Charles briefly looked up and moaned against you at the sight of you touching your body. He loved the developing sexual confidence you displayed for him. The vibrations of his moans only egged onto the sensation you were feeling. The combined efforts of his tongue and fingers plunging into you soon had your legs quivering and body desperately lifting itself up from the mattress. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when his fingers curled, brushing the spot to trigger your release. Soon, your pussy clenched tight as you came around his fingers, he was reveling in the juices of your first orgasm, “so good, so sweet,” he uttered while lapping up as much as he could.

Your head was pushed far back into the pillow under your head as you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat from your orgasm. You brought an arm over your eyes, slightly ashamed that you must’ve made a mess on his pretty face and the slight toll it took on your body. You didn’t notice Charles make his way back up to you and when he grabbed your arm to remove it from your face, the sight of his mouth and chin glistening from your arousal had you aching once more. He didn’t think twice when he leaned in to kiss you and you weren’t sure why tasting yourself on his tongue turned you on. With another surge of self-confidence, your hand started to rub the bulge prominent in his boxers. Not that he could see, you blushed at its length and hardness. He took your hand in his and guided it inside to wrap around him, eliminating the thin barrier as he tugged them off fully. Your hands stayed in place, slightly stunned at your actions, “it’s okay, baby, remember you can’t do no wrong,” he tried encouraging you. You moved your hand up and down feeling the soft flesh and ridges of his cock with each stroke. He had occupied himself with leaving tiny bites and marks on your neck as you continued with your movements.  

Charles flipped the both of you around suddenly, you now on top straddling him with your hands now planted on his chest. He shifted his hips to get comfortable but doing so only allowed his member to run past your wet pussy. He groaned at the contact and started shamelessly begging, “help me out, gorgeous. I’m begging you,” while slowly starting to rub up against you. Even though you drilled the fact you were inexperienced in his head, you wanted to please him. He had to have sensed your hesitation and took a different approach. He traced a finger along your lips and poked it in your mouth for you to suck and gather some of your saliva before he removed it to rub the wetness on his cock. Charles repeated this notion and the harder you sucked on his finger, the harder it became for him to control himself, “oh my God,” he whined watching your lips wrap around his digit and the feeling of your tongue as he imagined that sensation on his throbbing member. Seeing Charles that weak and drowning in pleasure gave you another confidence boost as you slid your body down his until you were face to face with his dick. You grabbed him and poked your tongue out to lick the tip. When that initial contact was through with, it was easy enough for you to run a longer and broader lick from the base to the tip before engulfing him.

Once you had a good pace set, your cheeks hollowed around him and hands made quick work to occupy the rest that you couldn’t intake.“Fuck, you look so good with my cock stuffed in your mouth,” he stressed when he made eye contact with you. You soon discovered a distinct taste and texture in your mouth as he started oozing precum. One of your hands slipping down to palm his balls, you tried your best to not make a mess as a mix of fluids started to escape your mouth and slide down his cock. It was a work alright, but knowing you were making him feel that good made you feel even better. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Charles stopped your ministrations the first time you gagged when you took him in too deep; feeling your throat constrict around his cock almost threw him over the edge prematurely.

You pulled away and sat up looking at Charles, awaiting your next move, your eyes shone with unshed tears from the brief lodge of your airway caused by his cock. You were a mess as you wiped at and licked your lips from any excess fluids.

“I don’t believe you,” he said with broken breaths as he lied there trying to collect himself, “I don’t believe that was your first time,” he clarified giving you a devious smile. You let out a small sigh of relief before blushing once more. “Come here, beautiful,” he commanded, and you obediently crawled over next to him. Charles’ body hovered over yours once more, parting your legs to position himself in between and hooked them over his waist. You let out a whine feeling him drag his hard cock against your sopping pussy, coating himself.

“I need to hear you one more time,” he said, lips brushing against yours, “I need to hear you say you want this.”

“I want this. Charles, I want you,” you confirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He slowly pushed in, while paying close attention to your face beginning to contort with the pain of him stretching your walls.

“Baby, you’re gonna have to relax a bit,” he advised once you started to clench, your body’s response to block the pain, you hadn’t even realized you’d pulled him closer to you. He pulled one of your arms away from his neck to look at you before saying, “I promise it’ll feel good,” then pecked your lips. You nodded and tried to keep his promise in mind as you bared through the stinging feeling of him pushing further in. Once he was fully encased in your warmth, he let out a moan, dropping his head in the crook of your neck. You both lied still for a couple of minutes, taking in the feel of absolute closeness. You felt so full because of him and he was warm because of you. “I’m gonna move, ok?” He warned you.

Charles started to pull away slowly then pushed back in a little faster, eliciting a moan out of you. His mouth agape as he stared at you again, the pain mostly erased and replaced with pleasure, your body was growing accustomed to him. You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth with each thrust he made and Charles smirked as he reveled in the fact that he was making you feel that good and he hadn’t even pulled out all the stops but that would have to take some time. One particular thrust had you dragging your nails down his back and yelp, “oh my God,” that was it. Charles let out a groan from the stinging on his back, but he knew. He found it. He hit the spot. He did it again to make sure and this time you thrust back against him.

You were too lost in ecstasy and from the languid kisses he left all over your body; you didn’t see his hand trail down between where your bodies connected. His fingers started to hastily rub circles on your clit. You didn’t know someone could bring so much pleasure to you, but here was Charles doing just that. His name repeatedly spilled from your lips as your body swam through the waves of euphoria from your second orgasm. Feeling your pussy squeeze his cock, he immediately crashed his lips to yours, letting out a throaty moan and unable to pull out, resulted in him filling you with his hot cum. The kisses became sloppy, your hand tugged at his hair, matted with sweat that it started to curl, as the warmth spread all over you. You let out a whine when he finally withdrew himself from you, some of his cum starting to leak out. He couldn’t stop himself from scooping a small amount on his finger and bringing it up to your lips, which you expertly took in and sucked the digit clean.  

He marveled at your state of bliss. The way both of your hands grasped at his wrist to hold his hand in place, your eyes closed, moaning at his taste, covered in a sheen of sweat, hair stuck to your forehead and sprawled all over the pillow, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “Damn. You’re perfect. You did so good, baby,” he said almost at a loss for words before kissing and praising you the night away.  

Your relationship with Charles only grew deeper and your dad was beginning to get suspicious as to where you were off spending your time and even nights away. It wasn’t until he heard talk of his daughter being seen around town with a suitor. When your dad had confronted you about it, you were almost relieved because you didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe he would finally get off your back now that you were heading in the “right direction” of becoming a woman of society, whatever bullshit that was. He insisted you invite your new beau over to formally meet him and you were pleased to find Charles having no problem at all with meeting your father. You were reluctant to agree, hoping your father wouldn’t run him out of town.

That night, after preparing and setting up for their first encounter, you saw a shiny, red car from the window. It was a bit puzzling, but when you made it out to the front porch and saw your boyfriend behind the wheel, you shook your head. He always had to show off, but that was a part of him, and you really liked him.

“How’d you manage this?” You asked referring to the new car.  

“Baby, I can be very persuasive,” he said placing his hands on your hips to bring you closer.  

“Oh, don’t I know it?” You teased before finally greeting him with a kiss. You heard snickers and giggles from the inside of the house and pulled away to shoo your younger siblings away.

Once you made it inside, you were greeted by your parents. Charles smiled brightly at them and you let go of his hand when you noticed how your father stared hard at the both of you. You were his daughter after all. Charles didn’t seem to crack at all under the look and confidently introduced himself with his hand out for your father to shake. If looks could kill, you thought that was the look, the one your father was giving Charles at that moment. He shook Charles’ hand out of sheer courtesy before stalking back to the dining room without another word. You were confused at your dad’s sudden coldness in front of a guest but also because not too long ago, he seemed to entertain the idea of you finding someone and finally meeting that person.  

Charles doesn’t show any sign of defeat at all. He knew your dad would’ve most likely not have taken a liking to him. Your dad wasn’t as subtle when he grilled him with unnecessary questions. It went unbothered by Charles. It confused your younger siblings. It somewhat embarrassed your mother. It angered you. When Charles leaves that night with a hushed promise to see you tomorrow, your met with your dad, who is really disappointed that the one man on this planet that you do take interest in is a Blackwood.

“How do you fail to mention that you’re courting a Blackwood?” He demanded once it was just you and your parents.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You were really confused now.

“That boy is bad news. I thought you had better judge of character,” he scolded.

“Charles has been nothing but good to me,” you tried to convince your dad. You looked behind him and the expression on your mom’s face was sympathetic, “Mom?” You asked for her help.

“I’m sorry, honey. It might be best if you stopped seeing Charles,” she advised. You just shook your head in disbelief at the lack of support from your parents, but what was new right? You never seemed to have their support these days.

“I don’t get it,” you said finally voicing how you’ve been feeling less part of the family, “you’re supposed to be my family and be happy for me-“

“We do want you to be happy. You’re just not going to find happiness the longer you stay with him.” Your mother tried to reason.

“I’ve felt nothing but that with him!” You countered, but what success did you ever have with that against your parents? 

“You really don’t know,” your dad scoffed at your naivete, “Charles comes from a crazy family with a dark history. No good will ever come out of being with a Blackwood-“

“His family is not him,” you cut your dad off, “and the both of you aren’t me,” you closed this argument and stalked off to your room.  That was the first of many times you’d hear your dad warn you about Charles and he’d just hope you’d be wise enough to leave him.

[josiebelladonna]

I’m coming out of my queue hole to tell y’all not to waste another tear on Vicky Cornell. 

Just as a disclaimer, I am not one of those conspiracy theorists who’s trying to spread bullshit lies to bring damage to Toni and little Chris, no, I’m not in any way that kind of person (and even if I was, I have much better things to do than start shit with someone I don’t even know).

The first reason is the elephant in the room: she and her mom both are rude to Lily. Case in point, a couple of months ago, I tweeted her telling her to talk to her mom because Toni was saying some pretty inflammatory things about Lily and needless to say, it brought out the big sister in me (helps that she and I are about six years apart).

And let’s just say Vicky got her panties in a knot about it, messaging me and getting all in a snit about it--I forget what she said, but it wasn’t very kind. It took me a while to reply (I was doing stuff), but I basically said—in public—”look, I know what this family is going through right now because I have had experience before: after my grandpa died, I watched my dad’s family descend into dysfunction, and unlike them, you can resolve their differences by talking to each other instead of being bullies, and Vicky never replied. She never replied back. If there’s anything that listening to the Orange speak has taught me, it’s that those with a guilty conscience go into denial in some way. In his case, it’s pointing fingers: with her, it’s getting snippy followed by the silent treatment.

The second goes hand in hand with that: if you’re on Twitter, you probably see her going on about social justice and #keepingthepromise and Satan knows what else. See, I don’t know about all of you but I can’t take someone who calls themselves a humanitarian seriously if they don’t practice what they preach (mainly why I can’t stand Otep Shamaya as a person even though she’s a great poet and musician; Jessica Miller, too: modelling is one of, if not THE, most brutal jobs in the world, and she talks about ~profound causes~ in the world of high fashion and yet absolutely reeks of digging for gold—after witnessing her behavior on IG, why else would she marry Lars? Models don’t make much money, especially those in fashion, and when they do it’s very few and far between). And that’s why you will never see Keep the Promise out of me: I can’t participate in something so noble when the person leading the pack condones—even participates—verbal abuse from her mother unto her stepdaughter.

I mean, really, I have far more respect for Susan Silver now after all that she’s done for Chris’ estate and of course for Lily; that alone should tell you something.

The third thing, and this... now, understand this is just an educated guess after reading about what Krist and Dave went through with Nirvana’s music after Kurt passed (even though they were suing the estate and Courtney just so happened to be there), but if it’s true, I have no words for this. My mom showed me the latest interview with Kim (I wasn’t able to save the link but you can probably find it via our friend Google) and he talks about him, Ben, and Matt not having access to the new songs, the songs from Soundgarden’s new album because they made enough material to bring it all together and release it for us. They can’t even get to their own music, more than likely because Vicky’s blocking it.

I have no words. None. Actually, no, I take that back: Soundgarden is my favorite band and I was going to make art for them and this is why that woman can eat my shit and suck the three of them with her eyes open, and even then she’d probably play the victim.

That’s another thing, too. See, I miss Chris every day. Every single day. I had my quarter life crisis when he passed--how many people can say that? I know what it’s like, shit rolls downhill. But I’ve been bullied enough times and experienced enough abuse in my life to know how to tune out haters, and instead of rolling with the punches like Courtney Love, Vicky chooses to let it get under her skin, still, to this day, two years later.

When my grandpa passed back in 2006, I remember I would get nailed to the wall if I brought him up around any of my relatives: and on the anniversary of, it was almost like a cult, in which we were almost required to rally around my grandmother and relive that grief, the grief of losing Grandpa to cancer instead of coping with it in a healthy manner. In fact, they were so neurotic about it that ten years after, they insisted I continue joining in even though I saw how unhealthy it is on the one year anniversary. What Vicky’s doing is the exact opposite, but with the exact same result. You can’t cope with grief by stifling down the tears, nor can you cope by bringing it up ad infinitum. Both methods get ridiculous, and not to mention unhealthy after a while.

Vicky is not—IS NOT—doing her kids, the fans, anyone, justice with any of her actions, even though she thinks she is, i.e., that is textbook victim mindset.

So to anyone reading right now, if you know what’s good for you, I beg of you: don’t give that woman another iota of attention. Please. Since Chris passed, she has gone from being one of the sweetest people ever to a manipulative bitch suffering from tunnel vision and a major power trip; and her mom’s a tool who needs mental health therapy.

Do it for me, for Lily, for Kim Ben and Matt, and especially for Chris. I’m sure he would understand because he was the one all about the causes and standing for what you believe in, not her.

[angelofthequeers]

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 11

Antibug

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

@miraculousl4dybug @livinthebilife tagged as requested :)

Part 10 | Part 12

With Adrien officially no longer talking to Chloé, she seems to get ten times meaner in the following month. She’s rude to everyone, constantly criticising everything she can think of, and she treats Sabrina so appallingly that the poor girl now comes to school with bags under her eyes and a permanent defeated smile. Marinette’s heart aches for Sabrina, honestly.

Chloé’s also caused at least four akumas since Gamer had been defeated. Three are students from their school that she’d ruthlessly bullied, while the fourth is a little boy she’d gleefully picked on in the park. And now Ladybug and Reine Nuit are dealing with a fifth person akumatised because of Chloé: an elderly lady called Antiquator, dressed in a long white Edwardian dress, with primped, curly dark hair, short black gloves, lilac skin, and glowing violet eyes.

“How on earth does an old granny get akumatised?” Reine Nuit comments as she and Ladybug hide with Chloé, Sabrina, and Adrien in an empty store. Down the street, Antiquator is zapping people and things all around her, and anything she zaps turns into an antiquated version of itself. Cars turn into automobiles; streetlamps turn into old gas lights; and people are turned into versions of themselves that may have been around a hundred years ago or so. Nothing particularly harmful, but certainly annoying.

“No idea,” Chloé scoffs, clutching her broken arm to her chest.

“Chloé Bourgeois!” Antiquator howls. “Come out, my dear, so that I may teach you the manners that a rich young brat such as yourself should have learned years ago!”

“Of course,” Ladybug sighs. “Chloé, what did you do this time?”

“Nothing! And I’m offended that you’d think that of me, Ladybug!”

Ladybug raises an eyebrow. Chloé shifts.

“Well…”

“Chloé was in a hurry to get to her hair appointment, so she pushed the lady out of the way!” Sabrina says. “Then when the lady told her that she needed to learn some manners, Chloé just said that –”

“Are you actually serious, Sabrina?” Chloé stamps her foot and towers over Sabrina, who shivers and ducks behind Ladybug. “How dare you just spill everything like that, especially when Adrien’s filming it all? What, are you gonna tell her all your little secrets too? How you love to dress up as Reine Nuit? How you suck your thumb in your sleep –”

“Chloé!” Ladybug cuts Chloé off. “Stop it.”

“Why? She humiliated me!”

“By giving us the deets we need to figure out where Oldie’s akuma is?” Reine Nuit says. “I think it’s in her ring, by the way.”

“You should be nicer to your best friend, Chloé,” Ladybug says. “And to others. You’re not being a very nice person.”

“Excuse me?” Chloé hisses.

“…So, I’m just gonna go Cataclysm the ring,” Reine Nuit says slowly.

“Lucky Charm.” Ladybug catches the bottle of motor oil and tosses it to Reine Nuit. “Pour that under her feet.”

“You gotcha, angel bug.”

“How dare you treat your number one fan like this?” Chloé swells with rage. “After everything I’ve done for you, Ladybug!”

“If you were really my number one fan then you’d want to treat others with kindness,” Ladybug says firmly. “I don’t condone bullying, Chloé.”

“Bullying? I don’t bully people! I only respect those who are worthy of moi!”

“Chloé –”

“No!” Chloé clenches her fists, whimpering when she moves her broken arm in the process. “How could you do this to me, Ladybug? How could you just betray me like that? Just because everyone treats you like you’re God –”

“Here you go.” Reine Nuit pops back in and hands Ladybug the empty bottle of oil, then stands aside to let Ladybug step outside and purify the akuma.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Chloé doesn’t look any happier once her arm has been mended by the ladybugs. Instead, she just looks angrier.

“Perfect princess Ladybug,” Chloé hisses, her bright blue eyes glossy. “Everyone loves you because you’re such a goodie-two-shoes! Well, I don’t need your lecture! And I don’t need you!” She directs this last part at Sabrina, jabbing the redhead with her finger before flipping her ponytail and storming out.

“This is all my fault,” Sabrina mumbles. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, you should have.” Ladybug puts a hand on Sabrina’s shoulder, giving what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “It takes courage to stand up to your friends, Sabrina.”

“But now she’ll hate me!”

“Can’t you make friends with anyone else?” Reine Nuit says. “That whole Chloé thing doesn’t seem healthy.”

“I don’t want to! Chloé’s just had a tough life, okay?” Sabrina snaps. “It’s my job to be the best friend ever for her! And I totally ruined that!” She runs out, sobbing. Ladybug grimaces at Reine Nuit.

“That went well,” she says. Reine Nuit just shrugs.

“I dunno what you want me to say.”

Ladybug is prevented from replying by her earrings beeping. “Gotta go! Bug out!”

.

The next day, Chloé’s not at school, but Sabrina is, and so she’s forced to sit up the front alone with hunched shoulders.

“We should talk to her,” Marinette whispers to Alya as Ms Bustier does roll call. “She looks pretty miserable.”

“Probably just Chloé drama,” Alya says dismissively. “Not our business, girl.”

“But still…”

“Now, class –” Before Ms Bustier can say anything more, their classroom door is kicked open to reveal a familiar blonde ponytailed girl. But it’s not Chloé; at least, not normal Chloé, anyway. Instead, she’s wearing Ladybug’s suit and mask but in inverted colours: black with red spots.

“I’ll prove to all you losers that I’m better than Ladybug! I am Antibug!” Chloé declares. Her eyes narrow at Sabrina, who whimpers when she approaches. “Sabrina Raincomprix. Antibug doesn’t like traitors!” She giggles. “Hey, that’s something Ladybug would say!”

“Help!” Sabrina shrieks when she’s dragged out of her seat and slung over Antibug’s shoulder. With a mad laugh, Antibug shatters the classroom window with her yo-yo and swings out, taking Sabrina with her.

“Um…” Ms Bustier blinks. “Class is…cancelled for now. I need to go and tell Mr Damocles that one of my students was just…kidnapped by another.”

Marinette takes advantage of her classmates swarming out of the room to duck up the back, where she can’t be seen. As soon as the classroom door shuts, Tikki comes flying out.

“This is my fault, Tikki!” Marinette says. “If I hadn’t been so hard on Chloé –”

“You told Chloé exactly what she needed to hear, Marinette,” Tikki says firmly. “Her reaction is on her.”

“But now Sabrina’s in danger!”

“Then you’d better go save her!”

Marinette takes a deep breath. “You’re right. Tikki, spots on!” The transformation washes over her, warm and bright and full of life, leaving Ladybug in her place as the pink sparkles fade. When she bursts out of the classroom and rounds the corner down the hall, she nearly collides with Reine Nuit, who yelps and catches her to stop her from falling.

“Guess I swept you off your feet,” Reine Nuit grins. “Get it? Because I transformed in a supply closet? With brooms?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Ladybug says, rolling her eyes. “You know the situation, right?”

“Chloé Bourgeois is Antibug. And she kidnapped Sabrina,” Reine Nuit says. “I think the whole school heard that. Where would she have taken Sabrina?”

Ladybug chews her lip, then pulls out her yo-yo and swipes to the news channel to see if there’s any information there. Nadja’s face immediately appears on-screen.

“I’m Nadja Chamack! Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! We’ve just received reports of a new akuma called Antibug, who appears to have a hostage at the Eiffel Tower!”

“Let’s go!” Ladybug says, flicking her yo-yo closed. She and Reine Nuit bound away through Paris towards the Eiffel Tower, where helicopters can already be seen even from this distance. When they arrive, they spot the news crew and police force on the ground. Up at the top of the Tower is Antibug, who has a sobbing Sabrina tied up tightly and dangling off the edge of the Tower, with the extra rope from her bonds wrapped around the tip several times to secure her.                                                            

“Release my daughter, Antibug!” Officer Roger orders through his megaphone. Ladybug and Reine Nuit take this chance to leap up to one of the viewing platforms to avoid being seen. “Or the strong arm of the law will come down hard on you!”

“Then why hasn’t it?” Antibug cackles. “Ladybug, Reine Nuit, you’d better come and save this poor little civilian quick smart! Or else she’ll be taking an impromptu lesson in bungee jumping!”

“I’m sorry, Chloé!” Sabrina howls. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“Oh, shut your pathetic hole already,” Antibug sighs. “I don’t know why I put up with it, honestly.”

Ladybug and Reine Nuit exchange a look. They need a plan. They can’t just go charging in there –

“I’m going to count to ten! And if you “heroes” aren’t in front of me and giving me your Miraculouses, a certain police officer is going to end up childless!”

– but they need to make a move before Antibug sends Sabrina hurtling to her death.

“One!”

“We need to focus on saving Sabrina,” Ladybug says. “We can’t do anything while Antibug can drop her. And she’ll be expecting one of us to play diversion while the other saves Sabrina.”

“Two!”

“What if we do let Antibug drop her, though?” Reine Nuit says with narrowed eyes.

“Three!”

“What? Are you crazy, Reine Nuit?”

“Four!”

“It might be the best way to free her, Ladybug. You can catch her with your yo-yo.”

“Five!”

“But what if she’s expecting us to do something like that?” Ladybug says. “She can’t be certain that we’re not hiding nearby, waiting for her to drop Sabrina so that we can save her.”

“Six!”

“You really think Chloé’s that smart?” Reine Nuit says.

“Seven!”

“She’s got Hawkmoth in her head now. We don’t know what he’s told her.”

“Eight!”

“We win either way,” Reine Nuit argues. “If she drops Sabrina, we catch her. And if she doesn’t drop Sabrina, we know that we need to be smarter about it.”

“Nine!”

“I hope you’re right,” Ladybug sighs. It’s too late now to come up with another plan anyway. “I don’t know how far my Miraculous Ladybug goes when healing stuff.”

“Ten!” Antibug giggles and goes silent. Ladybug and Reine Nuit tense near the edge of the platform, ready to spring into action, and Ladybug moves on autopilot when she hears Sabrina’s terrified scream. She swings out, ready to catch Sabrina…only to find that Antibug hadn’t actually dropped Sabrina, but rather had released the rope dangling Sabrina from the Tower just enough to create the illusion of letting the girl fall. Which would have made Sabrina scream. And Ladybug had fallen for it.

“Ladybug?” Reine Nuit hisses, still safely hidden. “What’s going on?”

“There you are, you little insect!” Antibug says, securing Sabrina’s tether again. “You would’ve actually let me drop Sabrina, wouldn’t you?”

“Like I was gonna let her actually crash,” Ladybug calls back. With the game up, she swings up to the top of the Tower to confront Antibug, with Reine Nuit right behind her. There’s no point in Reine Nuit staying hidden; no way will Antibug fall for the same trick twice.

“Help me, Ladybug and Reine Nuit!” Sabrina sniffles. Her eyes are red-rimmed behind her glasses and her cheeks are shining wet, and Ladybug’s heart breaks for her but she can’t figure out a way to free Sabrina yet, so she forces herself to give Sabrina what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

“Help me, Ladybug and Reine Nuit!” Antibug mimics in a shrill voice. “Give me your Miraculouses, or I’ll drop Sabrina for real this time!”

“You expect us to believe you after what you just pulled?” Reine Nuit says. Antibug rolls her eyes.

“You might not even have been here yet,” Antibug says. “That was just a way to flush you out if you were. And it worked.”

Reine Nuit curses under her breath, then leaps forward and charges at Antibug. Antibug easily dodges, deflecting attack after attack with her yo-yo, and Ladybug takes this chance to rush to where Sabrina’s rope is attached to the Tower and unravel it. She’s only got one shot at this. If she fails, Sabrina could end up splattered on the ground!

“Ladybug?” Sabrina whimpers when she jolts downward as Ladybug gets her tether free.

“You have to trust me, Sabrina,” Ladybug says. “I’ll get you down.”

“Hey!” Antibug finally notices what Ladybug is doing, and she snarls and bats Reine Nuit aside. “Don’t you dare –!”

“Go!” Reine Nuit shouts, dive-tackling Antibug. Making sure that she’s got a tight grip on Sabrina’s rope, Ladybug takes a dive off the edge of the Eiffel Tower and waits until she’s near one of the viewing platforms before throwing her yo-yo at it while swinging a shrieking Sabrina back up at the sky. Her split-second calculations pay off; her yo-yo arc is perfectly angled to catch Sabrina as she starts falling, and Ladybug wraps herself around Sabrina to protect her as they go rolling along the cool metal floor of the platform.

“Oh my god,” Ladybug gasps, pushing herself onto her back. ���I can’t believe that worked.”

Sabrina just keeps crying. Ladybug hurries to sit up and untie Sabrina, who throws herself at Ladybug and hugs her so tightly that black spots dance before the hero’s eyes.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” Sabrina sobs. “You saved my life – thank you –”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Ladybug chokes out. “Let’s get you back to your dad first.”

Sabrina nods and lets go of Ladybug, who gasps in air. “But what about Reine Nuit?”

“She’ll be fine…I hope. I have to trust that she can hold her own.” Ladybug wraps an arm around Sabrina’s waist, then uses her yo-yo to carefully swing back down to the ground. Sabrina lets go about a metre above the ground, landing with a sharp exhale before running to her father.

“Dad!”

“Sabrina!” Roger throws his megaphone away and wraps Sabrina in a bear hug, burying his face in her hair. The scene makes Ladybug smile briefly before she remembers that she’s currently in the middle of an akuma battle and her partner is fighting said akuma alone. She swings back up to the top of the Tower, just in time to instinctively catch Reine Nuit when Antibug sends her flying with a hard kick while her baton lies nearby.

“Whew!” Reine Nuit breathes when Ladybug sets her down. She dives to grab her baton and hefts it in front of her. “Nice timing, angel bug.”

“Where could her akuma be?” Ladybug says. She dodges Antibug’s yo-yo and hits back with an attack of her own, but Antibug dodges that in return. They’re too evenly matched, like mirrors!

“Not her earrings.” Reine Nuit points at a pile of black dust nearby. “I crushed ‘em but no akuma came out.”

“Stand still!” Antibug snarls when Ladybug leaps out of the way of another attack.

“Her yo-yo?” Ladybug says.

“Don’t think so,” Reine Nuit says. “She didn’t have it when she was akumatised, did she?”

“Hmm.” There’s one way that Ladybug can solve this problem. “Lucky Charm!”

“Anti-Charm!” Ah. Of course Antibug can summon her own Charm. And when she gets a massive sword, while Ladybug gets a pepper shaker, Ladybug ponders the best way to throttle a kwami after she turns back into Marinette.

“You know, the only reason I’m not totally freaking out right now is because I’m choosing to believe that you have a plan, buggy,” Reine Nuit says rather casually. Too casually, really. When Ladybug glances over, she sees that her partner’s bright green cat eyes are locked on Antibug’s giant sword.

“Give me a minute and I will, kitty.”

“A pepper shaker?” Antibug laughs. “Really? I guess this goes to show that I really am the better one of us, Ladybug!” She springs into action, swinging her sword at the heroes, and Ladybug and Reine Nuit yelp and leap out of the way. “Now, give me your Miraculouses!”

“Hurry up!” Reine Nuit demands. She extends her staff to propel her to the other side of the narrow platform, just before Antibug can slice her in two. But Antibug is there in a heartbeat, knocking aside Reine Nuit’s staff and cornering her against the Tower tip with the sword.

“You see?” Antibug’s eyes glimmer as she digs the sharp edge of her massive sword into Reine Nuit’s unprotected chin. “I don’t need you, Ladybug. I don’t need your lectures! I don’t need Sabrina! I’m the better one!”

“I wasn’t trying to lecture you, Chloé,” Ladybug says, holding her hands up to try and placate Antibug into not hurting Reine Nuit. Her stomach jolts at the sight of the thin line of scarlet welling against Reine Nuit’s dark skin under Antibug’s blade. Why can’t she come up with a plan? What on earth can she use the pepper for? “I was trying to offer you advice.”

“Advice? Ha! I don’t need your advice!”

“Well, Adrien’s not talking to you anymore, is he?” Ladybug says. “I thought that my advice would help you get him to talk to you again.”

“It’s not about – why should I have to change myself to make my friend like me again?”

“You shouldn’t have to change yourself,” Ladybug says soothingly. “No one dislikes you for being stubborn. Or headstrong. Or not sugary sweet. What people dislike is that you’re mean to them. That you threaten them to get your way, just like you blackmailed Mr Damocles into giving you Max’s spot.” Her earrings beep at that moment. What’s interesting is that Antibug’s black mask also beeps and flashes, then loses a red spot. Of course! The akuma must be in the sunglasses she wears, and it looks like they’ve turned into her mask!

“It’s not my fault that they can’t handle me!” Antibug shrieks and leans back to swing her sword through Reine Nuit’s throat. With this opening, Ladybug acts purely on instinct; she throws her yo-yo to catch Reine Nuit around the waist and pull her out of the way of the sword. Now that she knows where the akuma is, a plan suddenly hits her, involving the pepper, Reine Nuit, and the tip of the Eiffel Tower.

“I need you to distract her again!” Ladybug says, yo-yoing her partner’s staff back. Reine Nuit groans as she takes it.

“If that sword cuts me in half, you’re so Lucky Charming up a tube of glue to stick me back together,” she says, then leaps back into battle with Antibug. Ladybug throws her yo-yo to loop around Antibug’s ankle, then leaps up to feed it around the tip of the Tower, much like Antibug had done to Sabrina. Then she jumps back down to the platform.

“Take care of her mask when I say so! That’s where the akuma is!” Ladybug calls. Reine Nuit nods.

“Cataclysm!”

With everything in place, Ladybug waits until Antibug and Reine Nuit are closer before jumping and sprinkling pepper all over Antibug’s head. As predicted, Antibug descends into a sneezing fit and loses her grip on her sword, letting Ladybug yank on her yo-yo to haul Antibug up into the air by the ankle.

“Now!”

Whistling, Reine Nuit walks up to Antibug and swipes her sparking claws across the black and red mask, which crumbles into dust and releases the horrid purple akuma. Now that Antibug’s harmless, Ladybug lets her drop to the metal below their feet to free up her yo-yo.

“Good job, kitty,” Ladybug says, catching and purifying the akuma before throwing the pepper shaker in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

After the healing ladybug stream fades away, Antibug melts away to reveal Chloé, who blinks and squints around at her surroundings. “Uh, what am I doing here?”

“Pound it!” Ladybug and Reine Nuit say. Chloé narrows her eyes at them.

“I was akumatised, wasn’t I?” she says. Ladybug looks at Reine Nuit and nods down at the ground. Taking the hint, Reine Nuit starts to bound down the Tower to take care of Sabrina.

“You were,” Ladybug says, kneeling next to Chloé. “I’m not going to apologise for what I said during Antiquator, Chloé. But I will apologise for not making more of an effort to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay afterwards.”

Chloé snorts. “I don’t need your pity,” she snarls. “I need Adrien back.”

“Then try to be nicer. The reason Adrien won’t talk to you is because then you can continue to be mean while still having him as a friend.”

“Whatever.”

“Chloé –”

“Just take me home!” Chloé snaps. “I don’t need you, Ladybug.”

Ladybug’s mouth downturns. “Well, I’m more than willing to be there for you if you ever need me again,” she says as she gathers Chloé in her arms. Chloé just ignores her. Although she can’t deny that she really dislikes Chloé, Ladybug can’t help but sympathetically wonder what’s going to happen from here on out.