#i really want to be as informed as possible

[macleod]

so, funny thing, I rarely ever mention it, but Al Capone is my great-great uncle, and according to my great-grandmother he was "the nicest, funniest, and most loving of anyone in the entire f/Family". Everyone loved him if you were decent. He just really hated cops, the government, politicians, and racists.

He had a spectacular original spaghetti recipe that I need to dig out, because he was supposedly an excellent cook, and she would fight to mention that he didn't start the soup kitchens, or the literacy clubs, as a way of only commiting tax evasion (as most documentaries and historians love to say, but likely didn't hurt his financial endeavors), but that he got into the whole mob thing only because he wanted to protect the community, get them some good food, and ensure they were literate and able to hold themselves higher against a system that worked against the people.

He was anti-prohibition, pro-sex work, pro-womens rights, and assumed to be anti-racist (for the time, he was ralso ather notable for hiring and including other minorities, including african-americans in family gatherings, at his clubs, in his security, and working at his home, and both his cook and butler spoke at length how well he treated them and paid far higher than expected – keep in mind, he was an Italian in Chicago, they considered Italians on the same level in some regards, so he would be possibly understanding of the plight).

While he was openly 'anti-communist' and pro-capitalist, I believe he would be considered the opposite today, considering that if you read most of what he's said, he would be more akin to a modern socialist and would likely be staunchly anticapitalist, but it was the 20s and the confusion is understandable.

Was he a murderer? Not sure, on a personal level, he certainly had others to commit atrocities, but according to my great grandmother "he couldn't hurt a fly".

Now, keep in mind he made nearly all of his revenue from bootlegging hospitality, during prohibition to the tune of hundreds of millions a year, an industry that was highly illegal and targeted by the government, I call it hospitality as he was quoted as saying: "When I sell liquor, they call it bootlegging. When my patrons serve it on silver trays on Lake Shore Drive, they call it hospitality".

Some additional quotes:

"I have always been opposed to violence, to shootings. I have fought, yes, but fought for peace. And I believe I can take credit for the peace that now exists in the racket game in Chicago. I believe that the people can thank me for the fact that gang killings here are probably a thing of the past."

"I'm tired of gang murders and gang shootings. It's a tough life to lead. You fear death at every moment, and worse than death, you fear the rats of the game who'd run around and tell the police if you don't constantly satisfy them with money and favors."

"I want peace, and I will live and let live. I'm like any other man. I've been in this racket long enough to realize that a man in my game must take the breaks, the fortunes of war. I haven't had any peace of mind in years. Every minute I'm in danger of death."

"Why not treat our business like any other man treats his, as something to work at in the daytime and forget when he goes home at night? There's plenty of business for everybody. Why kill each other over it?"

A fairly decent article from 2016 that I just found has the title of "Al Capone caused less death and destruction than today’s capitalists" and within that he let this piece of information out, which I feel is entirely authentic from everything I've ever read, and heard, on him:

In my youth, I met several men who had once worked for Al Capone, and every one of them liked him. They talked about Capone offering them jobs during the Great Depression, when it was difficult for most workers to find employment. All of them had driven trucks into Canada, loaded up with booze, and brought it back to warehouses in the USA.

And, since its Valentines Day, the anniversary of the "St. Valentines Day Massacre" that shook the country, and took the lives of seven people (if only they knew what happens every day in America, 96 years later...), there is very little evidence that he was the orchestrator, and in fact, several biographers now believe it was someone hellbent on revenge against him.

Now, I am not going to deny that he likely did some incredibly wrong things, he absolutely did, but given everyone I know, have read, and have seen from him, he seems decent enough given the circumstances.

It's hilarious to me that Al Capone was an amazing tipper. I get why it took so long to catch him.

[k0ff1n]

Were there always 𝘵𝘸𝘰 beasts of deceit?

☆.A list of general headcanons about an au where the witches decided to divide the knowledge in two. Can also be read as: i hate that everyone thinks that Shadow Milk basically kidnaps people instead of being able to love someone and actually be understood :D

☆. This was originally meant to be an au with my oc but I tried to keep the personality for the reader as neautral as possible, no gender or anything specified because if I see that I'm supposed to have long blonde hair one more time I'm gonna kms. 　　

☆. Isn't really nsfw but there is a "suggestive" part, like they don't fuck but it's implicit so before someone comes for my head I WARNED YOU. Anyway I hope you enjoy it :}.

☆. Also english isn't my first language so I'm genuinely sorry if there are any mistakes :/.

-First of all I prefer to think that you didn't meet Shadow Milk after he became the beast of deceit. To have someone understand him in such a deep way it's only possible if you were there since the origin of everything, even his. It's not impossible to imagine how heavy all the knowledge is to bear so it would make sense if the witches decided to divide it in 𝘵𝘸𝘰, no?

-Not everyone knows that it wasn't one being that held all the knowledge in their head but two similar cookies, always together since the start and unable to physically stay away from each other for a long amount of time. It wasn't far fetched to say that after the creation of the academy people considered you to be his shadow and him yours. There wasn't one moment where you two could be found more than ten meters apart and the reason was kind of obvious, even if not to many people. You were each other's half without wanting it to be, if knowledge started with him the only possible outcome was for it to finish with you.

-As much as the weight of knowing literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 held the both of you from forming meaningful relationships with other cookies (ignoring the beasts obviously) it didn't mean that you became hermits and went away from society, especially since your role was to spread information and teach others. It was after years and years of having to face thousands of different cookies everyday and try to help them with the infinity of informations you had that it became more of a burden to you.

-If years ago others seemed happy to know every kind of possible thing in Crispia, now it felt as if you were being rude by telling them those truths. Needless to say that having someone able to understand perfectly helped the both of you overcome those moments and push forward. And even if things made you tired it was always okay because you knew that he would have always been there to comfort you and vice versa.

-But the situation changed. It changed that one faithful day when the witches you held so dear to your hearts told you that it wasn't enough, that even if all the cookies preferred 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘵 you couldn't agree with them and ignore it because only they could and not 𝘺𝘰𝘶, not the perfect duo they created to spread 𝘵𝘩𝘦 word. From that point on it only went downhill, the two of you agreed that it wasn't 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳, it wasn't 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 that only you had to suffer because of those rules and standards while the others could live happily and in ignorance.

-It took some time for the other beasts to start noticing how unfair life was to them too and one by one they fell, the only ones you could think of as friends being held back by forks and chains while you had to pretend that your life was happy. After that everything changed, the knowledge and truth you were supposed to spread became the base for misinformation and lies, those very things the other cookies liked some much became your routine until at some point the witches stopped you, they did what you saw years before being done to your closest friends only now you were being both sealed away in some damn tree for what you thought would have been the rest of eternity.

-Shadow Milk and you weren't the fountain of knowledge anymore, to them at least, but all those things didn't vanish from your minds, all the informations, lies and painful memories were still in your heads like a sea during a storm, unable to stop and become peaceful like it once was. Conversations with the other beasts became rare over time, their rage towards the witches making them unable to care about a conversation with you. It was at that point in your lives that you really understood how important you were to each other, obviously you knew it already but now that it was nothing but you two it became palpable how your souls were interviewed and literally unable to be pulled apart. If the witches thought it a good idea to create two of you it was probably their biggest regret now.

———————

-It was after 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 that the damn tree opened and you realized that you didn't have your full power anymore. As if being imprisoned for a millenia wasn't enough they had to strip you of your soul jam and give it to some 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘥, like he had the right to use it while you two were left to your own demise. Anger, resentment and sadness were the only feelings that your hearts could feel for far too much time and after 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 who it was that stole your power they only heightened, now unable to really understand how was it 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 that everything that made you two who you were in the past was now held away from you while your mere existence was considered a crime.

-The only luck on your side was the one that made you have enough power to escape the situation and find refuge in what was years before known as the spire of knowledge, now a place full of dust and old memories that could once again be considered your home. It's probably thanks to that too that you were, even if only a little, able to partially calm down and concentrate on the situation at hand and how to face those 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 and regain your power back.

———————

-As for the relationship I'd say that the start was probably the hardest part, but only like the first few days because after those it felt as if you were literally made for each other (lol you were). The type of relationship and friendship where you two are able to talk about everything, and in your case literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, from how the universe was made to why some rats look better when they become taxidermy than when they were alive.

-Your life was a constant presence in his and the same was for you, it should feel bad to always be around someone but with him it was as if everything around you was still and the only moving things were the two of you. Needless to say that in the years at the academy you couldn't really show affection to each other because of the list of students always surrounding you two to ask things regarding previous lessons, and even if you two lived together the time was mostly spent working to improve lives and not to really live yours.

-All this started to change when you opted for the lies and deceit road, now able to talk to each other for more than ten minutes at a time and to maybe sleep at least six hours. This obviously meant that your lives were spent differently, you didn't have to care about others too much so it came natural to care about each other even more than before. Now it wasn't a problem if you two were found kissing each other before a lesson and if someone dared to say something bad about it they would 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 have no one to talk to the next day. Totally not because one some rumor that started spreading about them, oh no no, you misunderstand really it was only his fault that made the situatuon escalate like that and so quickly.

-Needless to say that over time people noticed a pattern and opted for staying away from you, not that you minded obviously, it only meant that you two would have finally been able to start living like a normal couple and not like the embodiments of all knowledge. By this I mean that general affection became routine, cooking together every morning was now the norm and things like spending time reading on the couch or watching a movie could finally be considered normal days and not like some kind of taboo.

-The almost non existent 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 moments that for a long time were almost nothing more than an escape from the harsh reality out there were now finally moments of pleasure between two lovers. The attraction you felt for each other now had the time to be expressed and the shame you almost felt in the past seemed to never have existed in the first place.

-Obviously all of this came to an halt when the tree took all you beasts in 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 and it's kind of obviously to say that when it spat you out the first thing you did when arriving at the spire wasn't dusting the shelves and sweeping the floors.

-Now your life could begin again, even if the anger you both felt towards Pure Vanilla was the prime subject of your discussions that doesn't mean that your life as a couple magically ended. It was after some time that other cookies decided to work for you, the first one was obviously Black Sapphire and after some time Candy Apple joined too. As much as it seemed strange at first to have other people living with you, even if not in the same section of the spire, they grew on you both after some time, not that they could be considered your kids but when you started helping the younger one with choosing the hairstyles she preferred for the day and which dress fit her better it did start to feel as if you were some kind of family. As dysfunctional as it could be obviously, but a family nonetheless.

-After the years spent in the tree the clingy side of him started shining through, not that you minded but it sure was way different than the past. It wasn't as if your personal space stopped to exist since you both were always together but a thousand years ago he probably would have never opted for walking with a hand around your waist or literally making out in public, be it in front of servants or cookies like Gingerbrave and his friends. Speaking of that: the expressions on their faces when they first entered the Spire and saw that Shadow Milk wasn't alone but with someone literally sitting on his lap was priceless. What followed was them shouting at him to free you of whatever kind of brainwashing technique he used, only to have you kissing him and showing them your wedding band as an answer. After that they looked more confused than before but it surely wasn't your problem.

-It took some time for you to get used to his way of talking with the others, you too obviously changed and had to craft a mask to show the others and protect your real self but the difference between when he talked with you and when he interacted with other cookies always managed to leave you speechless. After years it became routine and even kind of funny to listen to him talk in such an exaggerated way, only to ask him something and listen to him change his voice completely to the one you always knew.

-Well needless to say that people can believe that the perfect couple doesn't exist but we all know that the world is indeed full of lies, is it not?

[jelloapocalypse]

Any thoughts or feelings to share about your work as a voice director? Heard you talk about voice direction briefly before and it was very interesting! And what's important for you to achieve when working in that role?

I actually want to make a video about voice direction one day. It's such a specialized thing that I don't think people can tell when it's good or bad unless they've done it, but it's something that REALLY affects a game's quality in small and pervasive ways.

To massively oversimplfy, here's a couple things a good voice director should be doing:

Keeping the actors as informed of the situation as they can possibly be. Explaining scenes and plot elements that could have any bearing on the choices their character is making so they have full context for every line.

Making sure the actors know how to pronounce everything, holy shit, please

Keeping the tone consistent from line to line. If one actor is a little too peppy and the other is too serious, even by a little bit, it doesn't sound like they're talking to each other in the final mix. It sounds like they're talking past each other.

If possible, the voice director should play the game themselves or read the script beforehand. They should never have to check what is going on mid-session. Directors need to do homework.

Every actor acts differently. Figuring out how to get the performance you want out of people is a little different. My favorite go-to is to offer physicality, like "Say this while looking to the side." "On this word, I want you to stretch." For Potionomics we would often have Morgan "do fingerguns" for Sylvia's sillier lines, especially her flirty ones. We did this so many times that we had a sliding scale of finger guns. "That was like a 6/10 finger gun. Give me an 8."

[olderthannetfic]

been reading some of the asks youve gotten about general "you owe strangers personal information so that the masses know you are of the correct identity to write about something" discourse and it always reminds me of the time my friend and i wrote a fic exploring the "neurodivergent robot" trope bc we are both neurodivergent (them adhd, me autistic) and really like it and wanted to use it in an empowering and humanizing way for fun in a scifi au of our otp. we didn't even think about it being an issue because we just wanted to have a good time putting our experiences into a story

and like immediately we got a comment of someone saying it was inherently offensive and we should have been considerate of autistic people instead of writing it because the "autistic robot character" trope is traumatizing and dehumanizing etc etc. i think they just saw the neurodivergence and android tags and decided we were evil neurotypicals and that no autistic person could possibly actually enjoy the trope and find an empowering version of it that deliberately explores the unfairness of dehumanization of neurodiversity and sentient androids lol

it's really all about optics, frustratingly. there's no pleasing those people so just write what you love regardless. i wonder if we would have gotten the comment at all if we had started out by tagging the fic "authors are neurodivergent and writing about our own experiences" but again i dont like the idea of heading off misinterpretation by divulging personal information like i deserve to be insulted otherwise

--

[moltengoldveins]

m240 machine gun - I am not here for a long time but by golly I am here for a good time.

that being said, I actually have a pretty complex and detailed zombie apocalypse plan. Really, it shouldn’t be that difficult to handle if the zombies follow most zombie media rules. Heck, even if they DIDNT, I’d still have some damn good plans.

first off, what’s the first fear when dealing with zombies? A bite. Do me a favor. Got any decent denim jeans? Maybe a jacket? Try biting that shit as hard as possible. Not a dent - your teeth aren’t going through that without some work. Same with a few layers of duct tape. Ergo, duct tape the major areas of your body, avoiding the joints to preserve mobility. Wear an under layer, and then loose jeans and a jean jacket. Wrap your hands and wear gloves. Tape your neck and shoulders, then wear a scarf or pick a jacket with a collar. Wear a mask and ideally a ventilator. Depending on how fast and strong the zombies are, that will likely be enough to keep most of them from hurting you before you can fend them off. Use screwdrivers as improvised stabbing weapons, go for eyes or joints, don’t try to get the screwdrivers back. A baseball bat is great, but when dealing with zombies, the best thing to do is just to avoid them, or take them down as expeditiously as possible. Doesn’t matter if they’re still waking - if they can’t see you, they can’t chase you.

second step of the plan? Bicycle. Quiet, easy to maintain and repair, easy to move hide and transport, requires neither gas nor electricity. Basket on the front and side saddle pouches on the back allow for decent storage.

third step of the plan? Find out where the nearest museum is with a display of plate armor. Use perhaps your local library if the internet is already down, they often have useful info, and even if they don’t, they’ll have information on disease prevention and wound treatment. Break in and put it on, ideally over a padded underlayer. Spend a day or two learning how to move in it - it’s designed to fight in, it’s totally possible to do gymnastics in it. Now you are immune to bites and also to a lot of glancing bullet wounds. That’s where the term ‘bulletproof’ came from. A bullet proof. Chest plates were shot, and the dent was proof that the bullet couldn’t break through.

forth step? Home base. If your home is compromised, bike away. You will need a med kit, a fire kit, food, clothes, as many books from the library as you can manage, and some weaponry. Check to see if the armor display had a sword or a mace. Find somewhere abandoned, a house that looks decently insulated. It doesn’t need to have food, that will come later, the important thing is that you’re far enough from a city center to avoid gangs and close enough to still be a part of the community that will inevitably crop up once the gangs are dead or subdued. You’ll want a house with a fireplace and heavy curtains, preferably one not visible from the road. You’ll also want to choose a way to get in that you can easily repair later. You will need to start growing what food you can immediately. This will be greatly aided by information you could access via the library. Until then, a book of edible wild plants, a small stockpile, a lucky break or two with the neighbors’ pantries, and ideally the food you took with you from your house should keep you going. Do not eat any mushrooms. Don’t do it. It’s not worth it.

fifth step? Defenses. This will largely depend on the type of zombie and the terrain you’re dealing with.

Sixth step? Is there a local vet. If so, find out if they’re alive. They probably are. Offer them help, a place to stay, anything youve got that you can spare - they are absolutely going to be vital in the coming days you will need them. Find them as much medical paraphernalia as possible. Set them up somewhere where they won’t be seen.

Seventh step? Choose a skill that will be useful for trade in the coming days and learn it. Beekeeping for honey, weaving for fabric, grow tobacco or plant herbs, learn distillation, tap maple trees. If you know something useful, find a way to apply it. Stockpile whatever you can.

Eigth step? Rabbits or chickens. Good meat animals, the eggs are useful if you’re going poultry. Use what you have on hand for the coop, maybe attach it to the house - defensibility is your friend. Getting them is gonna be a hassle - trade may or may not be possible. Trapping and domesticating them is ideal?

Ninth? You will eventually have to return to civilization. So will everyone else. People don’t tend to get shockingly violent for no reason - most people you find will be trying to do what you’re doing, nothing else. People will most likely begin organizing themselves again. This is good! Offer trade, help when you can.

tenth? Once you’re decently situated, find a hobby. You won’t make it without a hobby. Raid a Michaels and steal all the beads, nobody’s gonna have taken those. Paint, draw, read, write, juggle, birdwatch.

All this being said if you need meds you’re probably fucked in that regard u less you know how to make your meds from scratch or a replacement like them meds are really important and the absolute first target of any apocalypse scenario.

Spin this wheel to get a weapon for a zombie apocalypse.

[lightlycareless]

Naoya as our bully ?🤭

If you can, can you write something about it with dubcon and all those things

( feel free to ignore if you don’t like it ❤️)

Hello!!

Heheheh bully naoya is most likely to happen if I were to be realistic; however, I do not think it'll be as sweet as we would've liked—but that's ok, it's good to explore other things :)))

warnings: non-con; it's not explicit but it is implied so proceed with caution. minors DNI. I know you asked for dub-con but wow I just let my imagination go I am sorry I still hope you like it though 🥹 also, naoya is a prick. but that's expected. minimal proofreading, excuse the weirdness.

Happy reading!!

Naoya being your bully is, hands down, the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

Or more likely the precursor of the most horrific thing you’d ever suffer.

Your expectations for Jujutsu High were big—and for good reason, for everyone around you made sure you’d always look to your first day at school as the biggest, most important thing to happen in your life and career. You were to obtain the first glimpse of this amazing society you were part of, how could you not be thrilled?

But perhaps what enthralled you the most was the possibility of meeting the love of your life, after all, you were a hopeless romantic at heart.

Sure, it was somewhat of a selfish, if not baseless goal when compared to your duty… but there was no harm in dreaming, right?

And as if God had willed it, you’d soon catch the attention of someone in particular not so long after your arrival.

Unfortunately, not the type you desire.

The other thing you’d quickly come to learn about as days went by were the rumors and gossip surrounding your fellow classmates; just about the usual information you’d need to survive—who’s the popular one, who to go to when struggling with schoolwork—but primarily, who to avoid.

Naoya, the heir of the Zen’in, as on top of that list, though you were already aware of such cautions since his reputation… precedes him. Thus, it didn’t make it hard for you to simply walk the other way whenever stumbling in his path.

Not that it was any difficult, since he always seemed to be entertained by other things, other girls. And since you never considered yourself comparable to them, it was safe to say that you remained under the radar.

Until the day you didn’t.

Your efforts thrown out the window when accidentally bumping into him, a seemingly innocent act that transpired in the hallways, when you were in a rush, anxious to arrive to your next class on time that you barely had taken a sip of your drink—the weapon that perpetrated your transgression, soiling his pristine uniform.

To you, the beginning of your nightmare.

To Naoya, the moment he was waiting for.

“I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to do that!” you fret, hands trembling as you frantically looked for a way to clean up your mistake. “I’m so so so sorry, please, let me pay for the cleaning service, or I can—I think I can even get you another one—”

“Do you know the level of stupidity you’ve committed?!” Naoya would belittle, cornering you into feeling worse than you already were.

“I—I didn’t mean to.” You cry, shaking your head. Seems that the rumors were true regarding his personality were true after all, if not worse. “It’s just that I—I was in a rush, and you came out of no—”

“Ah, so now you’re blaming me? Is that it?”

“No—No, it was an accident! I really didn’t mean it, I swear!”

“Then you better show me how regretful you really are if you don’t want me to take this to the higher ups.” He threatens, and while a part of you doubts this incident is worth their attention…

His patience is not something you want to test, nor the limits of his wrath.

And so, your servitude begins.

First, he has you fixing the immediate cause of your despair, which seems you could never achieve thanks to Naoya’s impossible standards. You either missed a spot, didn’t use the cleaner he ordered you to (they always change) or it wasn’t as nice as it was before. The excuses go on and on, such as your debt to him, and all you could do was comply.

Of course, Naoya didn’t really care much about the uniform. In fact, he got one as soon as the other was spoiled, but what reason did he have to ignore the adorable way you fretted to fix your mistakes? Always eager to please him, it was the kind of entertainment he could not miss!

After growing bored of the endless back and forth relating to his uniform, he decides to move you onto doing his schoolwork, the boring, theory side of jujutsu nobody could care less about, to compensate in some way.

Which, once again, never fits his criteria. He just had to find something wrong, a small slip-up for him to nitpick and embarrass you.

A somewhat hard endeavor given how good you were at doing these things, Naoya that much could admit. But, well, he always preferred the teary look in your eyes when ripping apart the work you presented that day, even if it meant he’d end up doing it later himself.

“I was only—I was only doing my best—” you silently whimper, picking up the pieces of your efforts from the floor.

“Your best isn’t good enough.” Naoya coldly declares, and though your heart is sharply pierced by his crude, cold words, enough purpose to finally take a stand and leave—

You still don’t find it in yourself to stray away from him.

Because at the slightest hesitation, Naoya always found a way to pull you back in. Remind you of your mistakes and how far you really are from redeeming yourself.

Perhaps he knew of those deep, hurtful insecurities you’ve carried along since you were a child; those that made you doubt your aptitudes, if you were worthy of being a sorcerer, your family’s relative…

It would’ve been easier if you simply remained as an errand girl. The type of person to fetch him something to drink, or snack on… instead of dwelling on the old wounds of your upbringing that only worsened with his targeted frustrations—

His so called “jokes.”

Naoya’s approach didn’t take long to escalate into denigrating, personal acts against you, from cruel exchanges between his friends, pointing out your supposed flaws both physically and personality-wise, to pulling your hair whenever passing by, sneering at the stupid bow you decided to decorate your hair with—how childish it made you look—to lifting your skirt just to see what a prude girl like you could wear.

“Not that anyone is dying to know, but I thought I’d do you the favor of knowing what it feels to be desired for once in your life.”

Amongst other nasty things that just made you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

You didn’t know what hurt the most. That there was a group willing to mock you, enough to do so whenever he wasn’t around… or that Naoya didn’t have the decency to ask them to stop.

After all you’ve done for him, that was the least he could do.

Whatever business you had with him solely pertained to the two, there was no need to bring others along, less to incite him to do that…

But expecting such was too much, and so, you simply did your best to ignore him and move on with your life while anxiously waiting for whatever humiliating task you’d be graced with soon. Praying that one day, he’ll be merciful, or perhaps forgetful enough, to set you free.

…

…

…

Unless you weren’t to deliver anymore.

Unless you were to simply… disappear.

Just now show up after class to hand Naoya all his assignments, like always. Making him wait for a few more minutes before accordingly preparing himself to scold you in the nastiest way he could imagine when you finally arrived—but you never did.

At the peak of his anger, he decides to hunt you down instead and directly confront you. Figure out how your small, stupid brain convinced you to betray him, and subsequently make you regret it.

Which there were too many ways to do so, really. But as long as you suffered, as long you experienced a fraction of his shame, he was indifferent to the methods.

But of all the things he expected to find when facing you, he never once considered the sparks of your rebellion starting by an outside influence.

A fellow student you were walking annoyingly close to, revealing his efforts of isolating as futile; of filling your mind with nothing but his presence easily replaceable by a classmate of his. That stuck-up blonde-haired guy that everyone seemed obsessed about just because he was a foreigner.

And now, you too.

He should’ve known that your gullible mind would be attracted to someone like that. It was natural that you’d do so.

Perhaps what he didn’t expect was for Nanami to grow interested in you; surely, there were far better options to set his eyes on than someone as mundane and stupid like you.

Far more intriguing to find enjoyment in, as seen in the warm smile he gives you.

His perception of Nanami undoubtedly crumbled given this advancement; but if that was the only thing that bothered him, then why is there a burning, nauseating sensation settling in the pits of his stomach? Far beyond anger at your defilement, or even disappointment, but instead something akin to jealousy?

Protecting what was his, something that he never intended to share?

Naoya would entertain his feelings for a few moments, even come to consider it wasn’t worth his time to get so worked up for someone all his friends (and himself) ultimately found replaceable.

But he stops believing such things the moment his blood runs cold upon witnessing the act that fueled his definite wrath once and for all:

You, shyly leaning towards Nanami and kissing him.

What you had with him was more than a simple friendship, that much was obvious now. Far more intimate that he would’ve liked to imagine—

And far more infuriating as well.

Is this how you repay him? After all he’s done for you, acting like a whore was the best way to show your appreciation for him, after he’s given you a purpose in life? Saved you from becoming the useless, weak sorcerer you were fated to be?

…Perhaps you do need a reminder of who you belonged to.

“What are you—what are you doing in my dorm?!” You cried the moment Naoya barged into your room, the perfect location for him to corner you; keep you away from the intruding eyes of your friends, and so-called boyfriend, and finally confront you. “You can’t be here—get out!”

“Drop the act, this rebellious façade does not fit you.” He scowls; you frown. It was evident you were always nervous whenever he was around… but today, there was something different about your trembling voice. About your hesitating movements.

It was if you were pushing yourself to remain through all your fears and put an end to his tyranny or at least die trying.

That shy, people-pleasing girl was long gone—Undoubtedly, the work of someone whose mere remembrance only made his blood boil.

“I—I don’t care what you think, Naoya, you cannot be in my room!” you cry back. “Get out or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Call your boyfriend?” You blink; he lets out a mocking chuckle. “Think I wouldn’t notice? You’re awful at keeping secrets, you know?”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t keeping a secret.” You continue. “I just—I just didn’t care anymore about you!”

“Excuse me?” he responds, offended. “Did you just—"

“Shut up! For once, just shut up!”

Naoya flinches, taken aback by your sudden outburst, as if it had come out of nowhere; and not the exhaustion of his mistreatment, his constant disrespect towards your persona and all your acts.

Had it been the you from before, you wouldn’t have even dared.

Yet, just as you confessed, you simply stopped caring about him. What he had to say or what he thought—if he were to lash out at you or dump you with more work.

And all thanks to Nanami’s company; his affection. A supporting figure that reminded you of your strength, of your value and importance. Of how you were still deserving of being cherished and respected, without having to go through these endless ordeals to prove your worth. Those worthy to keep around wouldn’t make you go through that, anyways.

But most importantly, he showed you the power you had over your own life. How you were capable of putting a stop to the tyranny that pushed you to this bottomless ocean of self-doubt, and leave all your pain behind.

“You’re the most despicable, disgusting, horrible man I ever had the disgrace of meeting in my life!” you begin, letting out all your bottled-up anger through tears and yells. A cathartic occurrence that your heart so desperately needed. “You’re—You’re a monster, I don’t know how I tolerated you for too long!

But I won’t allow it anymore, because—I—I have Kento by my side and he’s—he’s showed me all these wonderful things I’ve been completely unaware of thanks to you!

He taught me to be strong, to be—to be fearless. To appreciate what little I have and cherish my loved ones!

To—to be honest with myself, and to—and to never let anyone else hurt me ever again!!

So today—today I denounce you! Whatever agreement we had, whatever it is that I was supposed to make up to you, it’s done! I refuse to keep being your slave, the center of your mockery. All I’ve ever did was try to please you but it’s obvious I will never commit to that, and you—you never had intentions of letting me go; if it were up to you, I’d simply remain miserable all of my life as long as you remained happy!

But… but that is finally over. It’s done. I won’t allow you to ever hurt me, to ever treat me like I was beneath you!

And I really do hope you get all you deserve. All that someone as despicable as you could ever hope to get!

I—I hope I never get to see you again, I hope that after today, you’ll walk out of my life once and for all!

Because I really, with all my existance—

hate you!”

The last thing Naoya remembers from that point forward was feeling irritated by your obnoxious rambles drowning in with burning rage. An overwhelming need to make you eat your words and apologize; so grave that it blinded his sights, his memory.

There were only brief moments here and there that managed to make way to his thoughts, such as the stinging pain on his palm after striking you across the face following your words, continued by the deep betrayal you’ve inflicted in his heart as he pulled you by the hair to force you to listen and reflect on the stupidities you’ve just spewed upon him.

“Did you really think I would allow you to disrespect me without suffering the consequences?! Did you really think I’d sit by as you preached things you don’t even know what they mean?! All because a silly, stupid man managed to convince you were deserving of them???” Naoya berates, bringing your face close to his and imposing you to see him—the anger you caused, the gravity of your actions.

“Na—Naoya—!” you squirm, trying to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter in place; painfully subdues you to become responsible for your life for once.

“You’re nothing but a stupid, foolish whore that got placed in a pedestal simply because someone wanted to fuck you.” He chuckles. “You think Nanami likes you? Really?? Don’t you think that if he did, he wouldn’t have pushed you to do something stupid like this?? He ought to know better, but I suppose that for a stupid girl like you, you’d do anything to obtain a man’s favor, even if it means betraying those who care for you.

Fortunately, I know exactly what to do in situations like this, how to deal with people like you.

I’ll show you that all I’ve done came from a place of compassion, of pity.

That I’m the only person that would ever dare to do so.”

It’s clear what he intends to do once he throws you onto the bed, once he begins to strip you of your garments and ignore your pleads of mercy. A possibility of reconsideration—how you didn’t mean to offend him as gravely as you did.

“But that is long gone, and now, I will make you see the error in your decisions. I will make you regret ever crossing me.”

And overall—

“I will make you see I’m the only man you need.”

Naoya’s defilement does not stop no matter how much you beg him to.

No matter how much you weep, you beg for his forgiveness, profess your regret and promise to do better… he was simply uninterested in what you had to say.

Instead, he succumbed deeper into his emotions, allowing them to control his rationale and do all kinds of horrifying, disgusting things to your body with the sole purpose of branding you with his anger, with your transgressionsso that you’d never forget.

You’d never dare to insult him the way you fervently did.

You’d never dare look onto another man, when he was there to be the object of your sole veneration.

Of your affection.

To keep you solely focused on him, and eventually, get you where you deserved to be.

It’s a shame things had to end this way, he manages to muse as he continued to desecrate you. But some people could only understand the hard way, the stubborn, stupid, naïve way. You just had the misfortune of falling into that category.

And he did just that. He drilled that notion onto you, both mentally and physically, what you should’ve known the moment you crossed paths with his.

The moment he set eyes on you, you were his, and it was always meant to be that way.

“St—Stop it, Naoya…” you gasped, tears in your eyes as you tried for the nth time that moment to fight him off. But too weak after his aggressions, all you could do is weep. “Please—please… I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Naoya only stops once he believes your lesson to be learned. From there, he barely gives you a second glance as he composes himself and leaves your dorm; far too indifferent to oversee your wellbeing or if someone were to find you in a broken position.

He simply goes on with his day as if it were any other, occasionally reflecting on your absence once realizing you went missing for the rest of the day, but outside of that, nothing.

Because ultimately, that is what you deserve.

Nothing.

Naoya allows you to keep your distance for a few days more after… his act. Whether because he didn’t feel in the mood to see your face, still resentful of your words, or because he was busy… It didn’t matter much; for he kept on with his life as if nothing had transpired. Treating you like an occasional remembrance, the junior he’d grown somewhat close to but eventually outgrown when another came along.

Even when his friends pestered him to find out about your situation, Naoya dismissed them. He had far bigger matters to attend to, after all, silly little Y/N was just another fish in the ocean; if they were so desperate to know, why don’t they find out themselves?

However, he wouldn’t be able to continue putting on this act once his classmate, your disgraceful boyfriend, began to mope. Becoming even moodier the longer you went on without attending school, even enough to go around asking if anyone had seen you after that fateful day—no one had.

Except your friends, the only few that somehow were able to place the pieces together and know what occurred to you; or at least, make a theory out of their findings—which eventually led for the whole school to gossip about.

“Did you hear?” Someone would begin. “Y/N has dropped out of school.”

“What? Dropped out? When??”

“Not too long ago, it seems. Just a few days ago—”

“What makes you think that? She could just be sick…”

“Come on, why do you think her siblings are all moody nowadays? If anything, the question we should be asking is why? Why would someone drop out in the middle of the school year? It’s not like she a bad student…”

“Are you sure she didn’t just transfer?”

“No, she didn’t. I saw the records, she dropped out. But you’d never know why… and honestly, I didn’t think she’d have it in her.”

“Have what in her?”

“More like who.”

“What—what are you implying?”

“Oh, and she seemed so innocent too…”

“No—no way you’re…”

“Yeah, I am. Y/N’s—”

Pregnant.

In other words, a child grows inside you right now.

And Naoya knew just who the father was.

What he didn’t know is why the idea seemed to thrill him enough to seek you out. Why he didn’t just… force you to take that damned pill, as he’d done countless times before, and move on.

Instead, he decided to travel all the way down to your home and demand the presence of your family; of your distraught parents he could see were disappointed in their seemingly promiscuous daughter, yet respectful enough to receive him. Perhaps because deep within, they knew he was related to your situation.

Or because it was one of the many perks of being the heir of the Zen’in.

Like being given the liberty to do as he pleases, painting a story that greatly deviated from the truth: making them believe you and him had a relationship, but given the nature of his position, he couldn’t divulge it. His family were… traditional, in some sense. They would never allow their heir to approach women in casual settings.

But love proved far stronger, and such demonstration now came in the small life nurtured inside your womb.

The same one he sweetly promised to take care of—as long as you married him.

Everyone had a price, and it seems your parents’ was prestige and honor; things easily obtainable through his titles, but at the sake of your happiness.

“What—what is he doing here—” you stammer, frightened to see the face that troubles your thoughts, your dreams, in the last haven you got. “How did he get in here?!”

“Oh, Y/N, this is wonderful!” your mother would cry, rushing to your side to take you into her arms. “All of our prayers were heard!”

“What—what are you talking about?!”

“You no longer need to worry about your future now, pumpkin. Naoya here will take care of everything!” Your father continues.

“Wh—what?” you breathed, sight blurry and head dizzy at the sound of their delirious words.

“He told us of your situation.” Your mother adds. “About your relationship with him.”

But not the true one, is it? For their reactions didn’t correlate to the horrors you were haunted by.

“What—what did he say??”

“Our truth, Y/N.” Naoya responds. “About our love, and my commitment to provide for you.”

Naoya painted himself as your savior, as the sinner than changed for the sake of love and was now willing to do everything necessary to give you, the mother of his heir, a suitable life.

Through a divine vow.

A life sentence.

You wept. You wailed, screamed, begged your parents to set you free from the hands of your tormentor. Exclaimed that his acts were far from a lover, but rather, an abuser. A demon—all that he had done was with your suffering in mind, not the other way around!

But even if they were to decline his offer, your family were far too eager to cling at the opportunity of returning to relevancy. Of getting into the Zen’in’s good graces and bask in the prestige they once lost to time.

Your eager nature could’ve not come sooner, what they once condemned, now they welcomed as a blessing.

And such, amidst poisonous congratulations, your new life was set: permanently bound to the man that had broken your spirit, defiled your body, and now, claimed your future.

No one would come to believe the atrocities he had inflicted upon, no matter how much you tried to convince others—it was simply easier to assume that he acted such way because… well, women were difficult, were they not? And you weren’t exactly the prime example of a proper woman either. If anything, you should be glad that you’ve managed to catch a man as devoted as him; any other would’ve bailed out on you.

But Naoya didn’t; he may not have the greatest reputation, nor the best temperament, but he still stepped up—and if that’s not worthy of admiration, then shame on you. Many women would’ve killed to have a partner like that, so, it’s best if you comply and stop being ungrateful.

Do what you’re supposed to do as his future wife—this is the life women of your status were expected to do anyways, don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into.

“I—I at least want to finish school.” You sadly lament, the last of your excuses before your fate was doubled down.

“You won’t need that once we’re married.” Naoya interjects. “All you’d need to learn is how to be a good wife and mother for our family, you’ll hardly have time for sorcery so just forget about it.”

Just like he always imagined the moment he laid eyes on you, only that he never professed it out loud.

It’s true: since the time he was aware of your existence, there was something that mesmerized him.

He just didn’t know what precisely; it could’ve been your beauty, your untainted image, pure in all imaginable ways—he couldn’t let anyone else get to you first.

And after all that happened, he can safely assume that this was his destiny. It was God putting you on his path while Naoya did the rest.

If anything, he laments it took this unwanted pregnancy to realize him so. Naoya would’ve liked something a bit more… traditional, but he supposes this will work too. Can’t complain much if he got what he wanted in the end: to claim you.

All that he’s left to worry about is drilling that defiance out of you. Something a baby ought to do the trick.

But if not, Naoya doesn’t worry much. After all, he’ll have all the time in the world to do so.

Naoya would be the type to find porn actresses that look like you and then show you a video or something, ask you if you'd make the same sounds/faces and such. Just had to get it out there.

Also, did I not tell y'all that in all universes naoya and y/n end up together? For better or for worse? lmao i'm sorry i'm just delusional rn. it's been a stressful week if i am being honest but coming back to these asks, characters, all of you, makes me happy :')

Well, I don't really have much to say, except that I hope it was to your liking 🥹💖💖💖

Now, take care and hope to see you soon. 💖💖💖💖

[elene78-blog]

Cody and Jean

I'm almost sure that Jean's new friend will be Cody, and then Patrick and Ananya by extension. In fact, I believe in the possibility of a Matt and Dan-like dynamic developing with Neil in this trio.

Listen.

Cody's cousin is a Raven, and the two of them can't stand each other because, as we are told, Cameron completely rejects Cody's lifestyle (I suspect that he is bisexual, since he seems to be between Ananya and Patrick, girl and boy). Jean doesn't like Cameron either, but it doesn't seem like he had anything to do with his abuse.

IMPORTANT FACT 1: Cody has piercings, lots of them, so he surely has a favorite tattoo parlor where he gets them done.

IMPORTANT FACT 2: Cody Winter is Nora's favorite Trojan according to one of her publications, so it is expected that he will be relevant in the next books.

MY BELIEFS:

- Jean is surprised that Cody doesn't look like his cousin.

- Cody wants to know information about Cameron and why he has become an idiot after joining the Ravens, and Jean gives it to him (not all of it, of course) because Cody reveals his concern about Cameron committing suicide. Jean can't assure him that Cameron won't do it, but he calms Cody down because Jean doesn't believe Cameron was involved in the abuse to that extent. In this conversation, Cody is clear that there is abuse in the Ravens and he senses that Jean has suffered much of it. Cody doesn't say anything about it, but since then he defends Jean from any malicious comments, occasionally arguing with Lucas about it.

- They are both bisexual. Cody may become a confidant of sorts on this issue, and Jean becomes a confidant regarding the trio's doubts.

- Cody tells Jean that if he wants to remove the tattoo one day or get another one, he can take it to his personal tattoo artist. Jean rejects it (for now).

- Jean and Cody help each other in the class they share together, and Jean teaches Cody defense things, since they share a position.

- Ananya and Patrick are not very sure about Jean, but they begin to get closer because of Cody's closeness to him.

- Jean is a little worried that Ananya and Patrick are playing with Cody. They notice it, although Jean does not confront them directly or treat them badly.

- Ananya and Patrick really like that Jean wants to protect Cody, even if he misunderstands the situation.

- Ananya and Patrick quickly adopt him, seeing that he is a support point for Cody when things with Cameron get worse.

I really think that these three would end up having a very very similar relationship with Jean to that of Dan and Matt with Neil... and I love imagining it. Although the link is Cody at the beginning, Ananya and Patrick begin to see Jean without Cody or his partner being present, because they find common tastes and become attached quickly. I think they'll sometimes put a stop to Cat and Laila if they think they're putting too much pressure on Jean, or getting too intense.

[knight-dwx-09]

The Angel With Devil Wings

Oscar open the door with joyful expression.

Oscar: Hey guys! I am back from Vale!

However, instead of a happy greetings or group hugs, he was met with silence as team RWBY and (J)N(P)R sat on the bed with haunted look, as if they were about to go to war.

Oscar: uhh… guys? Is there something wrong? Did Salem announced that she will attack or is she coming to here at this moment?

Ruby: Jaune just message us just now…

Oscar: oh! What did he said? Did he want to watch a movie or play games together? It has been years since I last interact with him with how busy he is after he work with medical department. I really miss him

Ruby: He said that… that all of us should head to the combat arena in a hour…

Oscar: I… see?

Nora: *Clung desperately to Ren’s hand* Renny! I don’t want to train with scary fearless leader today!

Ren has a calm expression unlike anyone else, however, the young boy could see that his whole body was gray out completely. Even then, when Oscar focus just a bit more, the trembles in Ren’s hands was noticeable.

While Blake was the opposite, she was visibly scared while wrapping her hands around Yang’s waist and bury her head onto the shoulder, her cat ears were flat as she whispered something but he couldn’t made out what it was.

Yang had her eyes in two different color, one red and one purple. And only end of her hair was in ablaze. Oscar didn’t even know that was possible for her to do so but she give off a different vibes whenever she use her semblance. Instead of the fiery spirit, one that made her feel like undefeatable, she felt more like a small animal being backed into a conner and try its best to look big.

Weiss: *holding a small doll version of Jaune when he was still at Beacon with tiny version of Croceo Mors* I am sorry dad, I will be a nice girl for now on

Ruby hugs her legs and rocking back and forth.

Oscar: Come on guys, this is Jaune we are talking about. He is one of, if not, the nicest person we have ever met. What are you all so scared of?

Yang suddenly appeared in front of Oscar, scaring him a bit as he try to take a step back but was stopped when she grabbed him by the shoulder with a serious look. However, the slight tremble in her hands reveal her unease and fear.

Yang: Oscar, I know you haven’t see him for a while so I understand why you are confused, but believe me when I said this…

She leaned closer so they were inches away from each other as she whispered to his ear in a scared and timid voice.

Yang: He had change…

Last week

Yang: Tell me where did you hide the weapons?

Criminal: Up your ass!

Yang gritted her teeth at the another fail attempt of extracting information, he was very closed to give him a good knuckle sandwich between his eyes but that was stopped when a yellow haired man in a white coat, hands inside pocket, barged into the room.

Yang: *Scared* Oh, h-hey Jaune! I-it’s nice to see you here

Jaune: It’s nice to see you as well… But can you give us some alone time, firecracker?

Yang: Of course! I will be waiting outside whenever you need me *Hurriedly escaped*

Jaune: So you are one of the White Fang who stole the military’s weapons and mechs this morning?

Criminal: *smiled* So what? Are you gonna give me bitter medicine to ge-

Before he could finish, Jaune’s right leg struck him in the chest through the cuff, breaking it and sent him flying that cause him to bounce off the wall before landed on the ground on all four as the airs crawl out of his lungs.

Jaune: Well, I have been accumulating some stress lately and miss out on hours of my training thank to my dolts of a friend this morning, so…

He bring his hand and make a gesture that say bring it.

Jaune: Give your all and fight me. if you managed to shatter my aura or kill me, the polices will let you go and all of your criminal record get wipe clea-

But before he could even finished what he have to say, the man spring to action as he try to claw Jaune’s face. But it didn’t surprised the doctor as he nonchalantly dodged the strike, leaving a faint trails of energy in their wake, and before the criminal could react, Jaune’s hand were wrapped around his mouth as he were slam into the floor, causing all the air and spit wanting to escape but failed to as his mouth being blocked by a firm grip.

Jaune: You should at least let me finish before accepting my deal, oh well, your funeral, Russet

The criminal, named Russet, grab Jaune’s hand to hold him down while to twist his body enough to bring his leg for a kick that has a similar glow. However, Jaune counter by simply throwing him into the same wall he had kick him to a second ago, like what happened at that time, he bounces off and land on all four.

Jaune: I have read your documents and I know you have a semblance that allow you to produce claw made of Aura from your hands or foot that could cut through steels. Simple and pretty useful semblance that consume small amount of aura *Slowly walk closer, stretching his right arm for another strike* I guess that is fitting for you since you are a tiger Faunus

Russet: STOP! I’M IN RED! ONE HIT FROM YOU WILL SHATTER MY AURA AND SNAP MY HEAD OFF!

Jaune: *Frown* So that is your aura reserved? It’s not that large it seems *Raised his hand toward the man in front of him*

In instinct, he raise both hand to protect himself but his eyes widen from such power rushing through his vein, staring at his own hands glowing in green aura as the feeling of hundreds of drugs were just being injected into his body.

Russet: what the…

Jaune: There, I just recovered and amp your aura so you could continue to fight *Began to pop some bone in his neck*

Hearing this, Russet smiles sinisterly at the doctor as his semblance active, aura covering both hands and take shape of a sharp, long claws that accidentally sink into the ground with ease. Amazed by this turn of event and how powerful his power has become, he gazed at the doctor, thinking he was a fool and dead meat. In second, he leap forward with claw ready, aiming for the neck… Only to be stopped by using his left hand. No, Jaune did not grab his hand to stop the attack or strike him first… he simply bring the hand up and let it hit him as it stop dead in its track… it was as if it refused to slice or even dig into his flesh.

The smirk was instantly evaporated and was replaced with confusion.

But he froze immediately at the sight of Jaune, smiling and cracking the right hand.

Jaune: Now we can keep fighting until I feel satisfied

His whole body tense out of nowhere as his instincts told him to move his head at this instance and so he did. The moment he did so, Jaune’s right leg plummeted down and narrowly miss his head, letting out a gush of wind that come from his strike, that blown him away, and digs through the metal floor like it was butter.

The sense of dread suddenly invaded, a cold shiver run through his spines as sweat began form. In his mind, there were voices to tell him escape as he immediately face towards the door and run.

And Jaune, with a smirk, appeared in front of him with insane speed that was impossible for a huntsman and huntress to achieve without a speed related semblance. Then the blonde struck Russet at the stomach and cause him to spit saliva and get sent flying toward the wall, dented deeply into it.

The hit had made his vision becomes blurry, star appearing in front of him as he didn’t register what had just happened nor the pain. And this time, he feel something began to rise from within his stomach, something that was burning and stinging his throat.

His body slowly loosen from the grip of the wall and fall towards the ground knees first, hand on his stomach and mouth.

He try to hold it in but failed as he release his stomach contents all over the ground and his hands. At the same time, lungs trying to refill all the air that had been stolen from him. But this only cause some of the vomit to crawl back into his throat, causing the acrid burn of vomit flooded their nose and throat as the pain finally spread out like a wild fire.

It felt like a giant Goliath had step on his stomach all of its weight and refused to take another step away. The pain was too much for him that his mind swirl in dizziness and pain, body tremble like a leaf as he vomit more.

He could only cough and hold his stomach to try to minimize the agony he was in, tears began to emerged and slide down his face and to the ground. All he could do was to look up the Angel/Devil slowly walking closer with vomit in hand and in tears.

Russet: P-please! I WILL FUCKING DIED IF YOU CONTINUE TO HIT ME!

Jaune: What are you talking about? Your aura is still full.

The man’s eyes widened, feeling that his Aura were indeed still full.

Russet: W-wh-what? JUST FUCKING HOW!

Jaune: You won’t have to worry about your aura shattering, I will recover and amp each time I hit you so you won’t died or go to a coma on me. And I basically have bottomless Aura, mean that we could keep go at it for a long time. It doesn’t matter if your bones fracture, muscles and flesh torn, organs disfigure. Cause your Aura will protect you from any of those injuries and heal back any damage that has been inflicted. But of course, that won’t save you from the pain you are about to go through now.

Russet: How could you do something like this? Don’t you have a shred of humanity in you!

Jaune: Bastard, I am a doctor, keeping humanity together is my job. *Slowly walk towards Russet* And you should think the of the child you almost killed while stealing the weapons first before asking about my humanity. Cause trust me, this pain isn’t something you will forgot any time soon.

The scream of a man could hear throughout the building for 15 minutes until it becomes dead silent.

And where was Yang this whole time? She was waiting outside the room, sweating bullet after she listened to the scream, whole body shake like a pudding, eyes dilated while focusing on the door, waiting, waiting for the angel from hell to come out.

Every minutes felt like a hour, It was as if time had slow down and being stretch out. She didn’t realize that she was holding in a breath when the door finally opened with Jaune calmly walking out.

Jaune: I will write the coordinate of their base where they keep all of the stolen weapons

Yang: Wow… that man really is tough if he can stay quiet for this long

Jaune: Nah, he already give me the place after 5 minutes in of our session but I still have some stress to steam off so he continue to desperately attack me until he fall unconscious from the blow on the liver. I already call the police to pick him up… I should have informed them to bring cleaning kit with them though

Yang open her mouth but it becomes too dry to even speak. Or that she didn’t dare to ask.

A call then rang out as Jaune grab his scroll and answered it.

Jaune: Hello? What?! Those two idiot are injured because of Dust explode in their face? Fine, I will go there right now

He put away the communication device, grumbling with a deep frown, and takes a few steps, which cause Yang to sigh relief, before stopping to turn towards her with a dagger look.

Jaune: Don’t think I have forgotten of our spar this month, meet me in the arena at 11 after I am done healing Crater Face and your Kitty Cat

Jaune walk away once again, grumbling as usual, leaving Yang as she falls to her knees thank to her legs become really weak. Eyes then wandered back to the room for a split second and that was almost enough to cause her to faint.

Back to the present

Yang: And you don’t want to see the state of that man in. But after that, he was perfectly fine, no injuries, no lastly damage, no anything… However… when he woke up… he was a broke man of who he was before… he would always flinch at the sight of any doctor with white coat, breath hitched, eyes dilated, hearth beat spike to a dangerous level, most time he would scream and try to run away. At night, he would wake up, screaming “I AM SORRY!” or “GET AWAY FROM ME!” with tears in his eyes

Oscar: wow… that… doesn’t sound like him… and this is why you are afraid of sparring with him?

Yang: N-no… Jaune would never cross the line for us… it just… *Look Away*

Ruby: Jaune’s training are simply too intense…

Oscar: What?

Nora: Scary fearless leader would make us to run…

Oscar: That doesn’t sound too bad

Nora: 75 laps around the whole academy

Oscar: Oh…

Blake: He then made all of us to do some weight training to build some muscle… by placing 800 Kg vest and 125 Kg weighted on each of our limbs while running… we won’t even make it to halfway before most of us fall. The worst of it, he will give us time to rest so we could finish the laps and give us that damn encouragement smiles

Weiss: And that is just one of the training he thought of. Sometimes, each one of us would do different exercise to make up our weakness. And they are as intense as the first one

Ren: However, there’s one training we all would always do at the end, we were told to fight him all at once… and that usually end with all of us vomit our meal at least one… but he doesn’t hurt us that much or simply wanting to beat us up, he does help us to get stronger with Qrow telling our mistake and what we need to train

After all of it been said, Oscar stay quiet to finally digest the thing his brother from another family apparently had done while he was away.

Out of nowhere, a familiar voice boomed through out the academy that send dread in everyone, except Oscar, stomachs,

Jaune: REN, NORA, AND TEAM RWBY! YOU ARE 10 MINUTES LATE! IF I WAIT FOR ANOTHER 5 MINUTES, ANOTHER 50 LAPS WILL BE ADDED!

And not even a second when their name called that their eyes widen and run out of the room, leaving the farmer boy in the room alone.

Oscar: Ozpin… is this a normal thing that happened to everyone?

Ozpin: While it’s not common to develop such habit, some people need some way to cope with the stressful situation they are in. Whether it was to drink, have intercourse with someone, write a book, draw an art, or something else

They gazes at a table which has a mountain of books about medicine, the anatomy and physiology of the body of Faunus and humans, brain, disease, genetic, etc.

Ozpin: In Mr. Arc’s case, he use extreme training and sparing to used up the stress he collected during his work life

Oscar: That does not sound very healthy for the body…

Ozpin: No, it’s not. However, it seems like while we were at Vale to help Glynda on rebuild the whole kingdom and Beacon. Mr. Arc has a better understanding about his semblance and his body. Remember what we have heard, there was a doctor in Vacuo who always use his semblance to help huntsmen and huntress recover, even the civilians. And it seems like that man was Mr. Arc

Oscar: Wait, how can his semblance help the civilians when they haven’t unlock their Aura? Doesn’t his semblance only allow him to boost other people’s Aura

Ozpin: As for that, I’m afraid even I don’t have the answer. But we could ask Mr. Arc for it. But allow me to continue with my theory

Oscar: Okay, go on

Ozpin: There’s also some rumor spreading out that there was a doctor with yellow hair, which we can concluded to be Mr. Arc, and massive shield that always stay in front lines of a battle. While he does fight, but that wasn’t his main objective. Some huntsmen and huntress has say that they see him, always running around the battlefield, Killing a few Grimms so they won’t be overwhelmed. However, most of the time, he could be seen carried injuries one back to the back line to be heal before going to the battle to do it all over again, not even taking a single second for a rest or breather, saving many lives while doing so. because of that, he was given many nickname by others. “The Unbroken Aiges”, “White Flame Saint”, and “The Angel From Underworld”

Oscar: You know, after hearing Yang’s stories. I am afraid to ask as to how Jaune got that last nickname *Shudder from the imagine he had just imagined*

Ozpin: I believe all of this healing other, all of the battle, all of the training, had develop his semblance to the point all the negative side effects of such physical labor become null to him. I’m even fear his body and soul had become accustomed to such taxing environmental, giving him one of, if not, the strongest body in Remnant… and we do not know what’s his semblance could do now… or what it could not…

Oscar: I am not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. *Stares out of the window towards the sky*

Ozpin: So do I

————————

AN: Hello there, it has been a while since I last posted. But I am just writing this for those who like the AU I have written so far. I will mainly focus on the Wrath Of A Healer AU (This one), Wanderer Knight AU, Developer AU, and maybe Cat Arc AU for longer post like this. But of course, I will still write more short funny post on other stuff.

And the reference where I got this idea is called “The Wrong Way To Use Healing Magic��. It’s a hilarious manga I read a while ago but I haven’t catch to the recent chapter so I don’t know where the stories goes or would I recommend it so I just say the title and leave it to you all if you want to read it.

[horse-breed-a-day]

hello there and thank u for the clarification i truly appreciate the correction, i do my very best to be as accurate as possible but sadly its inevitable i get the wrong pictures or coat colors etc i want to clarify that for some reason when u look up that breed those pictures of the przewalski's show up almost exclusively (which is very frustrating in hindsight) i typically refer to articles/websites/blogs of owners of a given breed for firsthand knowledge/books to gather information and i havent really found any good pictures or ones that r simply a przewalski's labeled as a riwoche

anyways rambling aside the post will be corrected and i will do my best to look for a good quality picture, i am here for the love of horses not to spread misinformation 🫡!

Horse breed of the day: Rowoche

Height: 12-13 hh

Common coat colors: Various duns

Place of origin: China

[sugawhaaa]

SAN DRABBLE

🌙▪︎[Damn those eyes]▪︎🌙

Warnings//genre:: violence, knives mentioned, San is in love with you bc he's insane....

Pairing:: rich!San x fem!bodied!hitman!reader

A/N:: okay we got part two of the masquerade series and I think Yeosang will be next and possibly the last of this series 💪 I did have a Hongjoong one planned but idkkkk

Atz masterlist::🗡

Taglist:: @saddeneddimple @leo-seonghwa

🎧::

You were a hitman hired by a big shot of an internationally famous company. You were ordered to kill a man named Choi San. Why did the company want him dead? None of your business. You got a photo of him, nice and clear, 4k quality yet when you arrived at the exact location the company said, he was well hidden. A masquerade ball. Choi san would be at this ball on May 17th, arriving roughly at 7 pm yet the grand clock showed it was a quarter till eight and you could not spot this man. It would be hard to find a man you've never met behind a mask and feathers among nearly a near hundred people. Time to move on to plan b.

You started getting friendly, but not too friendly so as to not draw attention. You silently started to hint at your interest in a good man named Choi San. The groups of people seemed surprised you didn't know of this man.

“Oh Mr. Choi?”

“He's new money but he is so famous,”

“You should really look into him,”

All the women seemed giddy about the concept of San and this piqued your interest.

“New money you say? How did that occur?” You ask, trying to keep up your curious little lady vibe.

“His father passed away tragically, however, his father insisted he take the money,” a woman wearing a deep satin blue gown informed you. She held her mask up with the convenient handle on the side. The mask's blue matched that on her dress and there was a gold trim around the eyes and outside of the mask.

“Oh, what a shame,” you sigh with a shake of your head. “I would love to meet Choi san, passed off of all your positive judgment on him,” you say politely, slightly hinting to them that they should introduce you or something of the sort.

“Ah yes, he is just in the back corner by the drinks,” a younger woman in deep magenta points out. Her eyes are full of youth and innocence, a spark that has been missing from your eyes for far too long.

“Why thank you for pointing him out,” you bow slightly before making your way over to him. He stood close to the bar of drinks and held one hand behind his back, the other in front holding red wine, a dark clash to his white suit with a snake tongue-like ending to it. You take a deep breath before coming up to him. “Excuse me, are you choi san?” You ask politely and he turns to look at you, his eyes are mainly hidden beneath his white mask.

“That would be me,” he smirks slightly. “And you may be?”

“Ah, Y/N L/N, sorry for my rudeness,” you put a hand to your chest, drawing sans eyes to the black choker on your neck holding a deep ruby charm on the end of it.

“No apology necessary,” San bows slightly, almost like a nod in a modern conversation. "What is it you wanted to discuss with me?" He asks, assuming that you wanted more than friendly conversation.

"Ah, yes," you look down at your hands for a moment, taking in the dark velvet red gloves that wrap up to your elbows. "Perhaps we should discuss it in private," you suggest and San chuckles, that rich laugh that makes your blood heat up. San eventually leads you to a deserted hallway with rows of doors. He takes you to one of the rooms and explains that these are guest rooms used by people who wish to stay the night at these balls rather than go home after all the drinks and dancing. San had already booked himself a room so there would be no interruptions in here.

San closes the door behind himself before making his way to stand in front of you. A perfect opportunity...

"What is on your mind Ms. L/N?" He smiles politely and through his mask, you can see the purity in his eyes. You swallow hard, your hand tightening around the handle behind your back. San's eyes flicker down to your hand hiding behind your back and he sighs softly. He sits down on the bed in his room, leaning back slightly and holding himself up with his hands. This is the perfect opportunity to pull out your knife and kill him off. You grip the handle harder and swing it out from behind you, now revealing the weapon to San's eyes.

You pin him down to the bed, ensuring he can't wriggle away, before raising the knife above even your own body. Your eyes are locked right on his neck, your aim perfect. However, as you bring your hand down you down feel the knife make contact with his body. You avert your gaze to look at his neck, which should be covered in blood, you see his eyes looking up at you. "Can you really do it?" His expression is blank and you raise the knife again, attempting your strike again but now your hands quiver. "It's much harder to kill someone when they're looking right into your eyes huh?" There isn't an ounce of fear in his voice or expression, almost as if he knew this would happen and he mentally prepared for this beforehand.

You sigh, questioning yourself; could you really do this? Kill a man who is looking up at you with those eyes. Damn those eyes... "before you kill me," San starts, drawing your attention back to him. He raises a hand to your face and you pull back. "Could you let me see your face?"

His request leaves you momentarily speechless, however, it is quite frankly his last wish.

"No," you state and you can see the hurt in his eyes. "Because...I'll let you live. But you if you saw my face, I'd be severely punished," you put the knife back into its hidden pocket in the back of your dress. You stand up and turn to go to the door but San quickly follows, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at him and he pulls the mask off your face, the mask falls to the floor as you finally feel the warmth of him on your face. He looks directly into your eyes, for they are most familiar to him.

"I didn't plan on snitching either way, I know you're just a puppet,"

[dumpywrites]

Emulsion - Kim Namjoon / RM

Prompt: Love and business don’t mix, and so do both of you. 

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Angst (happy ending), arranged marriage, slow burn

Pairing: Namjoon x she/her reader

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is the most angsty angst I’ve ever written so far I actually cried while writing it omg 😭😭😭

You knew what you were getting into when your family introduced you to the Kims. 

You knew your parents wanted to seal the deal with their corporation, and in order to have bigger share of the stocks, someone had to infiltrate in. That person being you, of course. Yes, your family totally sold you for some fortune. Very unfortunate. 

It was told that there was no pressure in marrying their son, Kim Namjoon. Said that you should just go on a few dinners with him, to see whether you enjoyed his company or not. In which to be fair, after meeting him in person, you actually didn't dislike him. He was quite easy to talk to, well-mannered, and seemed to be a bit philosophical. Also, quite the nice looking individual. Nice was a bit of a downplay actually. Man was handsome. 

Just after three supposed “dates” your parents booked a dinner at a hotel for both of you, not knowing they also booked a room for you to stay the night. 

It was never your intention. You were disappointed by how greedy your parents were and how they’d just blatantly do anything for power. The fact that they were probably thinking it was better if you just ended up getting knocked up by him was insanely outrageous. 

While you had no part in this play, Namjoon was pissed. He didn’t think you were actually this shallow or how you could stoop this low. Right after both of you were informed that a room was available for use, the man immediately excused himself, leaving you behind. 

You would think that was supposed to be the end of this story. That was until you saw a text from him, two weeks following the last incident. 

“I have a proposal for you.”

Apparently, his dying grandmother’s wish were to see him married. At the blossoming age of thirty, his old-fashioned family desperately wanted him to do so too. To the point where his father was holding his personal project back, threatening to shut it down if he disobeyed. Your greedy parents and his close minded ones somehow had one vision in common. Both of you, marriage. After all, this agreement would just simply benefited both parties.

You never wanted to marry. After your past relationships you had enough of your trust being broken, and you didn’t think it was even possible to trust anyone at this point. Namjoon never really wanted to raise a family. He did not want kids and had dreams and goals he would still like to pursue himself. But financial-wise, neither any of you were ready to be let go from your respective families if you chose to disagree. 

The ceremony of your wedding day was almost perfect. You were glad that the Kims let you get involved in the preparation, even though it was just as minimum as choosing some few options. The wedding theme was actually what you had always picture a fairytale wedding would be. The beautiful garden theme inside a dim lit ballroom, light periwinkle decorations. Despite not wanting one, a girl could dream, right? 

You barely remembered saying your vows, barely registered the way Kim Namjoon had slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch fleeting, impersonal. The cameras had captured smiles that weren’t real, a picture perfect couple that didn’t exist. Your kiss was merely a touch, but at least you were not crying on your wedding day. 

The night at the hotel, your husband spent the night sleeping on the couch. You were unsure if it was because he did not want to make you uncomfortable, or if it was due to him just resenting you as a person. 

And it had been like that for almost half a year now. You had separate bedrooms in your house, despite your wedding picture being displayed on the biggest frame they could get. Both of you and Namjoon barely had any conversation and barely even see each other when you were together in the house. 

Your life with Namjoon had settled into a quiet routine. Cordial but distant, polite but impersonal. He was never cruel, never dismissive, and yet there was always an invisible wall between you. He never spoke harshly. Never raised his voice. Never ignored you outright. But he also never sought you out unless necessary.

Most nights, you dined together out of obligation, sitting across from each other in an expensive yet cold dining room, exchanging words only when required. You weren’t strangers, but you weren’t partners either.

Yet, Namjoon was kind. In ways that were small but undeniable. He always made sure your morning tea was just the way you liked it, setting it on the kitchen counter before he left for work. He never invaded your space, never made you feel uncomfortable in your own home. If he noticed you were exhausted, he would quietly order dinner so you wouldn’t have to cook. If you fell asleep on the couch, he would drape a blanket over you before retreating to his own room.

It wasn’t love but it wasn’t cruelty either. 

And you were content with it. 

Then something happened at the worst possible time.

You and Namjoon had been carefully avoiding another confrontation, balancing on the razor thin edge of whatever this thing between you had become. But the universe had other plans.

The two of you had been at yet another corporate event, one of those weekend retreats meant to foster “unity” among business partners. You had spent most of the evening keeping your distance, exchanging polite words when necessary but never lingering.

That was until the storm hit. Heavy rain poured outside, thunder rumbling in the distance. The venue was a secluded estate in the countryside, and thanks to the storm, most of the guests had either left early or locked themselves in their rooms for the night.

You hadn’t planned to stay long and either had Namjoon. But when you returned to your designated guest room, you found him there. Standing by the window, his phone in hand, expression tense.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, brows furrowing.

Namjoon exhaled, turning to face you. “There was a mix up. Apparently, we were booked into the same room.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?!”

“I already spoke to the staff.” He said, voice tight. “All the other rooms are taken.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to say he would find another way. That he’d sleep in the lobby, the car, anywhere else. But then again, you couldn’t really blame him. Both of you booking a separate room was already weird enough. Him having to demand for it again would make it look even worse. 

“We’ll just have to deal with it for tonight.”

Your pulse pounded. “There’s only one bed.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I noticed.”

The tension in the room thickened, suffocating, neither of you knowing how to navigate this. You were used to distance. Used to space. But now, with a locked door and a storm raging outside, there was none.

You swallowed. “I’ll take the couch.”

Namjoon frowned. “It’s barely big enough to sit on, let alone sleep.”

“I’ll manage.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Don’t be stubborn. Take the bed.”

“Your body is literally bigger than mine. I’ll take the couch.” You insisted. 

To be frank you weren’t sure what would be worse, sleeping next to him and pretending you didn’t feel every inch of space between you, or letting him sleep there alone and knowing you had chosen to not try to better your relationship. 

Namjoon watched you carefully, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Your head snapped up. “What? No!”

“I’m not taking the bed…” He said firmly. “And you’re not sleeping on that couch.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes told you it was useless.

Without another word, Namjoon grabbed a spare pillow, tossed it onto the floor, and lay down, one arm resting over his forehead. You stood there, frozen, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the tension in his jaw.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be alone with him like this. And yet, as you slowly climbed into bed, lying stiffly on one side, you just couldn’t ignore the way his presence felt too close. As the storm continued outside, neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you slept either.

“Namjoon,” You called softly. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, why?” The way his voice didn’t sound hoarse at all. You knew he was wide awake the entire time. 

“Aren’t you cold? I… I think there’s enough space up here if you want…” You hesitated. 

“Don’t worry about me, just get some rest.” 

“No.” You paused. “I am worried.” 

There was a small pause coming from the guy underneath as well before he spoke again. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Was all you said. 

You didn’t dare to look at him, but you heard his movement before feeling the mattress dipped with weight next to you. Your back was facing him, body under the covers. It didn’t seem like he slipped under it, probably too afraid to make you uncomfortable in any way. 

So you took action and got up, dragged the blanket over so it could cover his body too, before going back to your previous position. You didn’t get the chance to catch his reaction. 

“You know…” You suddenly said. You didn’t know what came over you tonight for being so bold. “That night on our first dinner… It wasn’t me. My parents booked it without telling…”

You felt his body turned to your direction, but you still refused to look at him. 

“I know.” He replied gently. 

“I’m sorry, if you ever feel used by me or my family.” 

“Neither one of our families are innocent.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this as well.”

You didn’t know why but the way he talked suddenly made your heart race. “Good night.” You said, quickly ending the conversation with your back still facing him. 

“Good night.” He replied shortly. 

You woke up when you felt an arm just suddenly draped around your body. You weren’t too sure of what to do. Would it be offensive if you refuse? Should you just let him be? He pulled you even closer before you even had the chance to say anything. 

Now being fully in his embrace, your back against his hard chest, you could quite literally feel his heartbeat. 

Heat pooled in your stomach, you were getting anxious. Worse, you were starting to feel hot. Surely, you didn’t want Namjoon to feel you being all sweaty. 

“Namjoon…” You called, in hopes to wake him. 

No response. 

“Joon…” You called again. Although this time, you didn’t know where did you start picking up the nickname his family used. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” 

Again, you didn’t fail to notice the lack of hoarseness in his voice. So he had been awake for some time. 

Oddly enough, you were not uncomfortable. 

Actually, it was quite the opposite. 

“No.” You replied, simultaneously feeling his heartbeat getting faster in return. 

“It’s warmer like this.” He said. 

“You’re right.” 

Both of you stayed like that for almost two hours before getting up. Somehow sleeping in his arms felt natural. Too natural that it started to weird you out. The way your heart was acting up and the butterflies churning your stomach. Clearly something had shifted inside you. Whatever happened was so cliche, but you didn’t hate it. 

It did cause some unwanted changes in your life though. 

Now your dinner became awkward, as you could barely hold eye contact with your supposed husband. You avoid any communications even more than how it was before. You started to feel scared by your own thoughts. Creeping in your head like a disease. 

Deep down you always thought that Namjoon at least despised you, even just a little bit. After all, he knew how much your family benefited from your marriage. Even though he was never rude to you, a normal guy who was most importantly was your legal husband, would at least try to do something. The fact that in the whole six months that was all he ever did to you just proved how undesirable you were in his eyes. 

You had to scold yourself mentally for being a hormonal mess for even thinking like that. 

Tonight, Namjoon seemed tensed. The frown never left his face the whole dinner. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked cautiously.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Met my parents today.”

You looked at him cautiously. 

“They want to know why we still…” He trailed off, rubbing his temple. “Why we act like strangers in front of them. They even said that at this rate they were never gonna see any grandkids…”

Your throat tightened. “And what did you say?”

Namjoon looked at you then, his gaze unreadable. “I told them we were trying. At least we fooled the investors.”

Something about those words stung more than they should have.

You scoffed, trying to mask the hurt creeping into your voice. “Trying? That’s funny. Because to me, it still feels like we’re just pretending.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened. “Is that really what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think?!” Your voice was rising now, the emotions you had kept buried for months bubbling to the surface. “We’ve been married for six months, Namjoon. And we still act like this! Like two people who don’t know how to be in the same room without feeling awkward.”

His expression darkened, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I’ve been trying to make this easier for you.” He said, voice steady but firm. “I’ve respected your space. I’ve never forced you into anything. Now you’re mad because I didn’t push you harder???”

“That’s not what I’m saying…” You shot back, though you weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore. 

Namjoon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Then what are you saying?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Because the truth was, you didn’t know either. All you knew was that somewhere along the way, this had stopped feeling like a burden and started feeling like something much more complicated and you were terrified. 

So you did what you would usually do. The only way you knew to cope with this situation. 

“You wouldn’t marry me anyway if your parents didn’t threaten to shut down your collapsing art gallery.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything, only stood up and left without finishing his food. What you said technically was not a lie, but you still went out of the line. 

Things didn’t go back to normal after that night.

Namjoon was becoming distant, but not in the way he had been before. This wasn’t avoidance and restraint. Like he was holding something back, like he didn’t trust himself around you anymore. And you? You were no better. The way he looked at you that night right before he left, was still lingering in your memory. 

Instead of addressing it, you both fell into a new pattern. 

You both still had to go to a company’s daughter’s wedding. Despite the situation, it seemed like both of you were trained well to the point that you could act like the happiest couple in the world on command just like that. 

The celebration was held in this five-star hotel. Invitation list was long, so meeting an old acquaintance was bound to happen. 

Seojun was an old acquaintance, nothing more, but the moment he leaned in too closely, his hand brushing your arm as he laughed at something you had said, you felt a presence behind you shifted. You didn’t have to turn around to know Namjoon was watching.

When Seojun’s fingers skimmed over your wrist, guiding you toward the dance floor, you finally turned and locked eyes with your husband.

His jaw was tight, his fingers curled around his glass with barely concealed restraint. He seemed… angry. Not annoyed. Not indifferent. Angry. This was a first. 

Then he quickly disappeared into the crowd.

When you returned home, Namjoon was already there, tie discarded, sleeves rolled up. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at nothing in particular. You hesitated in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” You asked, carefully watching your tone. 

Namjoon let out a low breath. “Talk about what?”

You clenched your fists. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you weren’t—”

“Weren’t what?” He finally looked at you, eyes dark, unreadable. “Bothered? Jealous?” He scoffed. “You don’t want me to act like your husband, so why does it matter?”

Your heart pounded. “Because—”

“Because???” He took a slow step forward. “Say it.”

You couldn’t. Because saying it meant accepting that whatever this was between you wasn’t just circumstantial. It wasn’t just an arrangement anymore. So you did what you always did. You turned away.

But this time, Namjoon didn’t let you.

Before you could step past him, his fingers wrapped around your wrist. It wasn’t harsh, he just held it softly, demanding your attention.

“I don’t hate you.” He said quietly.

Your heart dropped.

“I never have.”

And just like that, the walls you had built started to crumble. 

You spent the night crying in your room. You were confused and mostly scared. You already knew what was becoming of you. You were not a little kid anymore, you knew exactly what you were feeling and why at this point. 

When in the morning you saw no tea was prepared for you, you quickly gave his room a knock. 

“Namjoon?” you asked softly. 

The door cracked open and he paused in the doorway, glancing at you before sighing deeply. His hair was messy and eyebags could be seen decorating his handsome features. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” 

As you awkwardly sat on his bed, you couldn’t help but to look around. To think that this was the very first time you stepped in this room in over six months of living in this house. 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore.” His voice was quiet but firm, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t place.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Do what?”

“This… Us.” His gaze dropped to the floor, his hands tightening into fists by his side. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more. I can’t keep pretending that everything we’ve been doing is enough.”

You held your breath, fear creeping into your chest as his words sank in. “Joon…”

“I don’t know how to do this right, but I want to. I don’t want to hold back anymore. I’m not asking you to be ready, but I need you to know that this…” He hesitated, his words heavy. “I feel like it’s real.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. You just stared at him, letting his words wash over you. He was laying it out, raw and vulnerable, and you could feel the weight of it pressing against your chest.

“I don’t know what this means for us, or how this will turn out, but I’m tired of holding back. I need to know if you feel the same.” He said, his voice gentler now. 

You were quiet for a long time, every part of you torn between fear and something you couldn’t name. A desire for something more, something real.

“I don’t know if I’m ready either…” You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t pretend like I don’t feel it too.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, his hand slowly reaching out toward you. You didn’t pull away this time. Instead, you let him touch your hand. The contact gave you shivers.

“I’m not asking for answers, I’m just asking you to take a chance with me.”

You felt the weight of his words, the sincerity behind them, and without realizing it, you found yourself leaning closer to him. You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew that for the first time, you were willing to find out.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the space between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was waiting for some sign from you. Then with a slow exhale you closed your eyes and leaned into him, returning the kiss with the same amount of passion. A tear escaped your left eye. His thumb was quick to swipe them away. 

“You’re not alone in this.” He said, hands still holding your face, as if you were to break if he ever let go. “Not anymore.”

And with that, you knew there was no going back. You had taken the leap. And now you would figure out the rest of this together.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

[hyperfixated-homo]

OW Perks and how they contribute to world building

Building a world off of a shooter game means integrating a lot of information about your main characters through game mechanics. As someone who is both into the gaming and fandom side of Overwatch, I’ve always found it really interesting how the game’s development of it’s characters has carried over to their fandom interpretations. Obviously, voice lines, skins and cinematics are the big things, but character abilities are a super big part of it too. So, being as obsessive over this silly game as I am, I spent a few hours combing through the character perks, and wrote a long ass ramble about how I think it could influence the world building of Overwatch. Like a normal person. <3

First and foremost; this is absolutely not meant to be some sort of study on what could be canon to the Overwatch universe. It’s already been established that the game isn’t “canon”. These are just self indulgent rambles, mostly.

If you want the full list of each character’s perks, here’s my post on that: https://www.tumblr.com/hyperfixated-homo/775376445686071296/all-of-the-new-ovw-perks

If you have any thoughts, please lmk! It’s been a while since I’ve made a long, in depth analysis like this and I’m sure I have definitely missed some things.

So if I was more insane, I would probably make a detailed exploration of how every perk impacts each hero and what it means for them as a character, but that’s. That’s 168 perks. And 43 characters. That’s a lot of things. A few too many. And most of them would just be analyses of where they got their tech from and how that tech works, which isn’t all that interesting to me. Unless it’s about my favourite characters, or something I’m specifically intrigued by,,,,,

Anyways. There are a lot of things to talk about so I’m going to start with how I personally like to view the implementation of perks within the canon (fanon, whatever) universe, which is basically as choices made by characters in the context of the battle. It opens a whole new world of how we can imagine them participating in actual in world battles.

For example- I was watching Flats try the new Doomfist perks, and he mentioned that it was like being able to choose between DPS Doomfist and Tank Doomfist. This sort of thing is a decision that I can imagine him making in canon going in to a fight- should he be focusing on tanking damage so that other Talon agents can finish the mission, or should he leave them be and finish it himself? And that sort of thing applies to any character. Hanzo going for a hit and having to consider if he should focus on stealth (using sonic arrows) or killing his target by any means necessary (using scatter arrows). While yes, these choices are made by us playing the game, they also probably need to be made by the characters themselves. They can’t do everything all at once.

I feel like the introduction of perks could be really interesting in this sense because before they existed, it was sort of up to fans to explore how characters would deal with equipping themselves for what is- essentially- their job. This opens up so many more doors for the active choices the heroes themselves need to make.

Moving on from that, the abilities themselves are fascinating. Some of them I find interesting in general- mostly ones that have a healing element to them. I’ve mentioned at some point that I think it’s interesting that Genji has a perk where he can heal during his Deflect, and I’m really interested in that- how can he do it? My first thought is that it’s connected to the Iris somehow- maybe that spending enough time following Zenyatta’s teachings, he learns how to harness it just the slightest bit. But really, the possibilities are endless. It could be that he’s repairing his mechanical components, sort of like Bastion’s self heal. Maybe it’s something chemical within his body- a sort of biotic injection that gives him an extra boost. There’s a lot of potential ideas here! How many times have we explored how Soldier could use biotic fields- now that can apply to any hero with new self heal perks.

Along that line of thought, the heroes that have gotten new lifesteal abilities (healing while damaging enemies) are also super super interesting. Any character with new lifesteal perks could have so many potential ideas for why they do it. To name them; Hazard, Genji, Junker Queen, and Reaper all have perks that include lifesteal. And for each character, you can come up with entirely new reasons why. Genji’s specifically is a result of his dragonblade- is the dragon literally sucking the life out of his enemies and giving it back to Genji? I have no idea!!! But it’s a cool concept, right?

In that sense I’m very impressed by the specificity of each character’s perks. They work so well with their already existing traits in the Overwatch universe. All of them feel like they could naturally work with the existing ideas of each person’s abilities. It’s a super natural transition, if for the lore moreso than the game itself.

Okay now I’m just going to speedrun some of the more interesting abilities that I’ve found that I just wanted to bring up.

Sigma and Zenyatta can fly/float respectively. First of all, goddamn awesome. Secondly, very interesting how neither really fly- maybe both of them can, but neither want to. After all, Sigma does fly during his ult? So why wouldn’t he do it on the regular? He’s already floating, why not go the extra step? ¯\(ツ)/¯

I’ve already written a lot about it but Soldier’s new stim pack?? So much potential there. Is it a drug? If so who made it? Where did he get it? How does it affect him in comparison to a normal, non super-soldiered person? Does it have long term affects?

Some characters (Hanzo, Freja, ect) have perks where they get increased firing speed if they get hits/kills. I like to imagine that it’s related to adrenaline. Could use that for some interesting character analysis :) (Especially considering how Hanzo’s specific ability is called “Dragon’s Fury”… could connect that to his own bloodlust as a result of being connected to the dragons. Or something. Hmm)

A lot (I think literally all) of Junkrat’s stuff is related to his weaponry. I like to think that it’s because he’s constantly modifying it to fit his own needs- sort of clunkily, but it works, and it’s fun :)

There’s a lot to be said about characters that are initially more on the pacifism side (Zenyatta, Mei, ect) having perks which allow them to do more damage. There are definitely ways to explore character conflicts using their new abilities. This is sort of less about perks and more about them as characters though- I don’t think they’d be happy to use any of their abilities to do harm

Reaper has his soul orbs back!! We can bring back him eating the souls of the dead. Was that ever a thing? Idk. I want it to be. Imagine- Reaper pulling a death blossom in the middle of enemy lines, then collecting their souls in front of whichever of their comrades still live, slowly gaining power… filling the room with more smoke… laughing maniacally all the while… yknow?

Roadhog’s “take a breather” has two perks that he can choose between to upgrade it- either making him faster when he uses it or healing allies. This sort of thing can very easily fit in to how he learns to integrate himself with Overwatch or another group, learning how to share his heals instead of hogging it (no pun intended)

I’m never going to shut up about Sombra being able to heal with hack. There are. So many concepts you can do with that. Especially with how much more of a sympathetic character she’s been portrayed as lately- there could be any number of situations where she had to learn how to do that. Why would she? How could she? Does it work better for certain heroes than others?

Torb can give his allies repairs during battles. Imagine the shenaniganery. Imagine Torbjorn hanging off Reinhardt’s arms or something, trying to fix his rocket booster, while they’re both yelling at each other and everyone else is trying to murder them. I’d animate it if I didn’t suck at it <3

Venture being able to see things while underground is?? So fun?? They’re very bug to me. I like to think it’s like a specified sensor. A sixth sense if you will. Because it’s not like they can actually see, but maybe they can feel the vibrations or something? I don’t know!!

That’s most of the thoughts I wanted to get out, but honestly there’s so much more to explore here. These are just the ones that immediately jumped out at me- I’m sure that just playing with the perks themselves will bring up more ideas. If this is slightly incoherent I apologise lmao. If I come up with anything else, maybe I’ll write something about it

[stardustizuku]

People fundamentally misunderstand Madoka and what Madoka is trying to say.

And as someone who’s only ever made think-pieces about madoka’s impact on the magical girl genre, and never about what it’s actually trying to say, I do feel partially responsible for that.

There’s this TikTok user - which honestly TikTok itself is the bane of all my existence bcs it boiled down everything wrong with Tumblr with half the attention span and a quarter of the critical thinking - that keeps trying to frame Sayaka (and the audience) as a dumbass, and that everyone else as inherently better person.

This creator does so by saying that

“Sayaka should never have wished for what she did, because that was a stupid wish”.

While the story itself tells you, in part, that that is true - it’s missing the GLARING CONCLUSION that the show itself is telling you otherwise.

Yes, Sayaka’s wish is what leads to her ultimate demise. Her wish is the source of all her problems. Yes, she never was meant to take this grandiose role of a savior and by doing so, doomed herself and her friends to a tragic end.

But uhm

1) NONE OF THIS IS SAYAKA’S OWN FAULT.

(I feel a bit insane for having to defend Sayaka, because I believe she works best when you acknowledge she’s a complex character who did dumb stuff, but is obviously a teenager trying to do something right. I NEVER BELIEVED people in 2025 would be trying to frame her the same way idiots did in 2011. God has TikTok fried people’s brain).

Kyubey is blatantly manipulating Sayaka, the viewer and the girls. He knows she’s a weak link, with a tendency to self sacrifice. So, he exploits her vulnerabilities to destroy her and get to Madoka.

If you see the entirety of Madoka, and somehow are still childish enough to leave the show thinking that Sayaka was stupid - you are not mature enough to be watching Madoka. What you are doing is victim-blaming.

This person portrays Sayaka as a privileged girl. Someone who had no need to enter the cycle of abuse that being a Magical Girl is. A cycle that targets lonely and disadvantaged girls, with no other options. But, because Sayaka HAD other options, this makes her the odd one out. The one that shouldn’t have been there.

They present Sayaka’s decision as a foolish one. One that had no reason to happen.

AND, while to a degree it is true, that’s to the whole picture.

(For one, the fact that she had other options, doesn’t mean that getting manipulated into the wrong one is any less tragic. It shows that ANYONE can be manipulated into signing away your destiny, if you for a fraction of a second look away. She had a bright future but because one person (Kyubey) led her astray, she wound up dead in less than a month. The same it can happen with anyone you know).

But also, yes, Sayaka made a dumb decision. But she made that dumb decision because she was manipulated into it.

Kyubey was hiding a shit-ton of information. He never properly explained that being a Magical Girl means constantly fighting Grief itself and the possibility of one day becoming a Witch. He never explained the fact that it could mean dying on the job. He never explained they’re all walking corpses with no soul. He never guides them into choosing a proper wish, or what that wish will entail. The only ones who try to inform Sayaka are other Magical Girls, who made a desperate wish and now feel remorse or regret. Girls trapped in the exact same cycle of abuse. Unsure if they made the right decision or not, and unable to properly tell Sayaka if she should or not. Because they have to gaslight themselves into a truth that might-not-be to avoid going mad with regret.

Mami tries to dissuade them, but she’s so lonely and searches for admiration and connection so much - that she inadvertently makes it sound really cool and something they would want. She “tries” to warn Madoka against it, but folds extremely quickly.

She’s nowhere the paragon of Magical Girls that this creator has painted her as. Quite the opposite. Had she won against Charlotte, she would have successfully recounted Madoka and Sayaka - convincing two girls who had no need to enter this hell to do so.

AND IN THE END - she did convince Sayaka. Enough for her to become one a few days after her death. Thinking that she could fill the void she left.

It’s very apparent that the “dumb decision” she made, was one IN HINDSIGHT.

People in the middle of the manipulation, cannot be considered dumb. They’re simply working on the limited information they have on the situation.

If you come away from the show, believing that Sayaka was the one was dumb for making that wish, and NOT KYUBEY IS A BASTARD FOR DESTROYING GIRLS LIVES…you have a problem.

AND NUMBER TWO, and more importantly, THE SHOW DOES NOT AGREE WITH THAT SENTIMENT.

While Sayaka made a decision to trade her life for a guy’s hand - she never regrets it. Not in her sound mind, at least. When her life is falling apart, when she’s infected with grief, and slowly realizes what her life will be like for the rest of the time, yes. She thinks she did something extremely stupid. But I believe, when pushed to our darkest hours, we might even see the things that bring us the most joy - as something that brought only misery.

(As an immigrant, my achievements back home feel extremely useless and stupid and like a dumb waste of time. But that’s not true. In that similar way, things we are extremely proud of, may make us feel ashamed and resentful when we hit our lowest points)

But when Madoka rewrites the universe, she lets Sayaka keep her wish. She lets Sayaka become a Magical Girl, and Sayaka (in her sound mind) is GRATEFUL for that.

Because here’s the thing - this creator seems to be under the assumption that Sayaka deep down wanted something in return. That she was attempting to be selfless, while wanting something, therefore she’s still selfish.

The idea that, if you’re hungry and I give you my last cookie, if I actually wanted it, that makes my decision to give it, a stupid one. Because you wanted that cookie, why would you give it away? You should have eaten it! It makes no sense!

When, as Madoka itself says, you wanted the other person not to be hungry. And you shouldn’t be punished just because you still wanted that cookie. The fact that you wanted to help, is enough. And the fact that you wanted it, doesn’t make you a terrible person!

In fact, even if you don’t have the strength, it’s commendable that you attempted to do something. There is no weakness in kindness.

By Rebellion, once the ability to become a witch has been stripped from Sayaka’s fate, it becomes quite clear that the paragon of magical girls is NOT MAMI. It’s Sayaka. She’s the one who wants to be a Magical Girl to save other people, with very little personal interest aside from Kiyoko. She’s the one that is paralleled as the rival to Homura (A stand in for selfish love). If Homura is the Devil, Sayaka is the knight tasked with saving Madoka. Sayaka is the one that gets rewarded the most, because she sacrificed the most, for her ideals.

That’s actually a core theme that Madoka has.

Madoka gets this EXTREMELY bad rep, in regards to its themes. Because edgelords on the internet seem to believe it’s “a dark and grim take on magical girls”, when its in fact - a normal ass take in the Magical girl genre. Plenty of MG animes are dark and mature, Madoka is actually on the tamer side, and Madoka itself has a positive and hopeful take on both fate and hope. It argues that you CAN change the world by having empathy and being kind, that you CAN save everyone and that you CAN be helpful, if you want to. None of your actions are useless or nor do they lose meaning.

You’re not supposed to be selfish to survive. You can be selfless, you can attempt to save people, even if you don’t have the full strength.

So, this entire person’s take on Madoka, that comes from this cynic and cruel angle of “yeah duh, Sayaka was dumb and Mami was smart for not being selfless” is not only boring but stupid.

It adds nothing to the conversation, aside maybe fodder for someone to ACTUALLY engage with the material. It’s banal and quite frankly, boring. I’ve had more entertainment out of a Danny Motta commentary.

[worldfianna]

Severance Theory

(Anotha one thank yew)

Buckle down and be patient with me because this is going to be the biggest reach of a theory anyone can possibly have mustered up, luckily it's not as stupid as miss huang being mark and gemma's daughter, but it still has some considerable holes. BE NICE, be patient, and feel free to argue otherwise AMICABLY. okay enjoy guys because i seriously started doubting myself when i got to the end of writing this. I was like "wow I'm actually crazy" but this show is crazier so.

Okay so maybe this is so so obvious, but i need to get it out there in case nobody else kind of thought about this either. So i finally convinced one of my friends to watch severance, so she came round mine and we got up to episode 3, and we got to petey. Now, petey has reintegration sickness right? So bad that it essentially kills him, but he also just disappears from work, he can't have resigned because otherwise he would've gone through the whole "goodbye" process of it, he didn't get fired, and cobel says he's still missing and they're actively searching for him, she believes he's been reintegrated and the board is like "oh no no no girl". I'm outlining all the holes in this theory before anyone else can. But I'm wondering if perhaps on the off-chance that the procedure COULD'VE gone wrong and that workers still have some memories from their job, they built in some kind of mechanism in the severance device that causes pain and eventual death? Petey is under the impression that people are after him, and i could be wrong but i don't remember Asal mentioning any post reintegration pain (forgive me if she did and disregard this entire theory) I'm thinking maybe petey began showing visual signs of reintegration, so much so that they activated the pain mechanism, to prevent any information about Lumon being brought to the outside. It's definitely clear that the severance procedure wasn't invented just so that your life is your free-time and you never have to worry about work again, they clearly want whatever is happening at Lumon to remain a secret, but need to disguise it as something else. Any information that gets out could be detrimental to their end goal so they need to eradicate any possibility that this could happen. I think they knew that Petey knew something - i mean, he doesn't show up one time and they say he's not with the company anymore instead of assuming he was like bed ridden or in hospital and wasn't able to call in sick. That's assuming this takes place on a monday, why would they contact him on the weekend? So that means the last time anyone will have seen him was friday. They must know that he knows. And i think the board knows that he knows something, but they have it under control because of the possible pain feature. When it get's really bad he can't tell what's real and what's not, making him appear crazy, giving lumon some plausible deniability. I feel like I've worded this theory terribily

In a nutshell.

Outside:

Lumon made severance device chip thing > device chip has pain inducing feature > pain inducing feature can cause death > pain inducing feature causes petey's death

Inside:

"Petey's not with company anymore" > bro missed 10 minutes of work > not fired? > not resigned? > they're looking for petey > why? > why look for petey if you think he's not a threat > threat to lumon > lumon knows petey's onto something > lumon knows reintegration is possible but lie about it > shows that authoritative figures like cobel don't actually know the full plan of what lumon is trying to accomplish > everyone is freaked > the eagans are cray

Does that make sense??

Also why would cobel theorise he was reintegrated if he missed one day of work. HE HAD TO BE SHOWING SIGNS.

I do genuinely believe irving reintegrated as well and that the paint/ black goop situation was similar to when mark saw helena as gemma in the tent in season 2. But I've written enough.

[sir-fenris]

I'm so happy you liked it!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

I was so nervous on that day that I posted the chapter and put the phone down to draw for a few hours. So I'm really glad people seemed to like the writing and the euphoria/comedown description.

And yeah, the comedown is really harsh! That's why I call it a crashdown. I was afraid it might become too angsty, but I also wanted to show how bad the comedowns are (this was only the beginning, it can last from hours to days). It hits hard and suddenly, with only a few subtle symptoms to warn that it'll hit, and even though it happens so many times, Cyrus is still caught in this cycle, there's nothing he can do (while still being a living weapon, I'll give my boy a fair recovery later)

Might have been a little dense, but I tried my best to make it as smooth and organic as possible while still giving all the information I thought was necessary for the first chapter :')

Oh, I ended up yapping. Sorry, sorry.

-

Just happy you enjoyed it! I took a few days to work on other stuff, but I already started doing the next chapter :D

Also, I hope you're well <3.

Sweet Creature

Content: magical living weapon, dehumanization, "it" briefly used as pronoun, dangerous whumpee, magical euphoria, shock collar, sensory (visual) deprivation, manhandling, military whump, implied institutionalized whump, magical slavery, heavily implied mass murder, hallucinations.

(chapter 1) | next chapter (soon) ->

(Curse of Withering masterpost)

Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.

But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.

He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar. Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.

Around Cyrus, talk dies down, and muttering comes to life, as he's used to. It never stops making him feel ashamed.

Also not allowed to curl up or hide in any way, he's just dragged forward to keep walking.

A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.

Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.

"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.

The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.

No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.

"Wait until you see it destroying a whole military camp while laughing like a maniac," Mr. Wilson says. That voice he does recognize in the very core of his being. And by the coldness of it, his handler is audibly used to that question as well.

Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.

"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.

Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.

Unlike Cyrus.

He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.

It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.

Cyrus knows better than to look around or shift from his position, but he's still able to see a bit of the tent's inside. The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.

That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.

Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.

Mr. Wilson blocks his vision of the gifted by crouching down. The direct, practical delineation of where the enemy camp is sinks into his mind easily as his handler speaks. It's easy to map in his head exactly where he needs to focus on.

"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Pain doesn't even register in the sea of feelings building up in his body. The rocks puncturing the palms of his hands aren't nearly enough to ground him, not after years of the magic slowly numbing his nerves.

The tent disappears and all he can see is colors erupting from the blackness, like thousands of little roots travelling through the ground, coming from his fingertips. Ignoring the surrounding life had become easier over the years, and the withering knew to travel until it's closer to the delineated area than to him before branching to reach all soldiers of the other side.

It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.

Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.

And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.

His hands crack and dug further into the ground, and he repeats the chant again. Again, again, again...

𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

Cyrus could see, or in a way feel, the life bursting out of the enemy's camp. It was hard to separate what was greenery and what was people, but it didn't matter in the end.

Wither magic fills the entire enemy camp with thousands of black ramifications that only he sees the colors of. Growing, rotting, decaying.

Every cell in his body beams with giddy energy.

A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.

And then everything goes black. The cold, painful reality crashes down on him, harshly taking all the cheerfulness away and leaving behind an itch, a hysteric uneasiness. A faint beeping of his collar tells him he's done today, it had turned blue again.

Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet. An argument was happening over his head.

Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-

"It was fucking smiling, it is fine to keep on! What is the point of having a weapon that can't be used?!" A man behind him almost yells. Not the same one from before, a slightly more familiar one. It might be the general, but without seeing it's hard to be sure.

Yes, Cyrus was fine to keep going, he was! It's been less than a minute with the nullification glasses back on, but he misses the colorful cheerfulness already, his body is taut with the need to move, to do something, anything.

But Mr. Wilson is right there, so he stays obediently still.

"I'm not telling it to launch an attack again! The magic would consume it's head and-" Mr. Wilson pauses, and Cyrus recognizes his temper rising. It's an effort not to flinch. "Ugh, you have no idea how bad it gets. Wither. Up, we're leaving."

"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to. Cyrus could hear the ecstatic smile on his own voice, and he almost winces at it, but without knowing why. To smile was good, wasn't it?

Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.

The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.

A gloved grip squeezes his arm and Cyrus knows to stay completely still, despite the dizziness. Magic envelops his hands as the metal gloves are bent to fit them again. He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.

He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out. The sound of many boots around them tells him the escort team is here already.

On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.

The heavy metal door shuts with the escort team outside, and the only steps that echo inside the container are his and Mr. Wilson.

Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.

The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight. Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.

"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.

What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.

The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.

The pressure gets worse.

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.

The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.

His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.

It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.

"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly. That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.

From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.

"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.

Euphoric. Didn't that word mean something important? The headache is getting worse.

Mr. Wilson's grip only grows even more painful. There's more to be said, but Cyrus's head is not working well. He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.

What weapons want doesn't matter.

He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson." The hand leaves his hair without any further words.

The need to move only gets worse in the silent. He knows Mr. Wilson knows. Cyrus's body is so tense it hurts.

He needs to use his magic, he needs to. It hurts, it's bad, he wants the giddy energy back, and not this nervous, restless cold creeping in. Everything is still pitch black, and the restraints are too heavy, and he wants his magic free again-

So you can kill more people with it?

No. What? No, no, no-

Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?

That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-

Of killing.

The memories of colored forms change. Those were people.

People you killed.

"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.

Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-

Images strafe his mind. People died. People were killed. By him. And he was just smiling. He giggled to people losing their lives. Not only soldiers, there were medics, and servants, and-

A cold, sharp thing runs his arm and he flinched away, swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.

Vile thing. You're a plague on earth that should be eradicated.

Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.

"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.

They're true, you're just hearing them too late.

"Today will be easy, then."

Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.

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Want to see Mr. Wilson's pov? This is the drabble this series began as. You can consider it an almost canon version of this chapter, but in Mr. Wilson's view.

Curious to what Cyrus called "den"? Here we go. And why did he call it a den, when it's just a white room? Here we go too.

Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort @half-duck @scoundrelwithboba

Curious to how the capsule he's in is like? Here.

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Send an ask or comment on this post to be added to one of the taglists, or to switch taglists! :D

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[bunnyboy-juice]

my lovely mutuals and followers and circle of dykes. i am BEGGING YOU to stop reblogging that "NSAIDS while on spiro damages your liver" post. there have been MANY additions in the comments expanding on the risk factors of mixing these medications (and i HIGHLY recommend looking in the comments. @/boringkate assesses the risk beautifully in there, and many others are in the reblogs expanding on the interactions and risks as well). all those aside - the major risk of mixing NSAIDs and any diuretic (not limited to, but including ibuprofen snd spiro) is RENAL (KIDNEY) PROBLEMS!!! NOT LIVER!!! and the most frequent version ive seen to that post does Not do a good enough job clarifying that "renal function" is related to your kidneys, not your liver. there are some effects that will happen on the liver eventually of course, but the premise of the interactions is wrong in and of itself and this kind of misinformation is kind of dangerous to just take at face value/without curiousity

i encourage you to read the actual drugs.com summary on the interactions between NSAIDs and spiro that keeps being referenced in that post (more on this under the cut). it is a moderate interaction manageable with increased hydration (your kidneys love water!) and, if you're taking spiro under the supervision of a doctor, monitoring of your renal function via blood tests. and i understand feeling betrayed learning there are potential interactions between all NSAIDs and diuretics because these risks are often not clearly communicated by doctors themselves, but in the pharmacy and usually in that packet that comes with your meds that most people are more likely to toss than read - but please do not make sudden rapid changes to your healthcare plans or work yourself into a panic on ever taking a pain med ever again based on that post and PLEASE fact check things you read on the internet before spreading it as Health Facts, even if its just looking up what different words mean to understand more of what you're reading. i also really do encourage y'all to read on how kidneys work and this is a really nice overview

the risk of kidney problems mostly occurs if you are (1) taking regular doses of both medications (2) NOT drinking enough fluids (3) not communicating with your doctor about all the medications you are taking. if you are taking spiro as a treatment provided by a doctor and are worried about kidney problems after that post, by all means talk to them and ask about getting a blood test to check your kidneys function/health!! im not discouraging this!! your doctor likely isnt bringing this up in the first place though because (in my cursory glance over the sources) many of these studies cited even in the drugs.com article "specific" to ibuprofen and spiro are about a variety of diuretics interactions with a variety of NSAIDs. the ones that arent paywalled are also either acute case studies about elderly patients on diuretics (so who Already have kidney problems/elimination issues) who developed heart issues after diuretics treatement or observational studies specifically on men in good health ages 20-38 to specifically look at drug interactions in the body. in the more acute cases, with proper management/alternative medications almost every single case was reversible and resolvable. many of these medications in these papers also are ones I have not heard of or taken, so i did look up every single drug i didnt recognize by name references to confirm my initial assumption that the reason this is labeled a Moderate instead of low risk interaction is because All NSAIDS and diuretics have potential interactions (confirmed also that the major effect is that NSAIDS have the potential to reduce the efficacy of diuretics, which leads to fluid and salt retention, which can lead to other issues - namely heart issues in the most extreme cases) with variable effects based on specific combination of the drugs used, the patients specific health, and the dosage (not just the size of dose, but the timing as well).

as an aside: if you habitually are taking frequent (read: daily/scheduled, not a one off for a headache or other body pains) doses of OTC NSAIDs, Regardless of taking diuretics, you NEED to tell your doctor because even though its available over the counter (at least in the US) it is still a major medication in your life/relevant to your physiochemistry!! OTC medications are often overlooked by doctors and people alike because they are seen as ubiquitous and to many doctors OTC pain meds, like NSAIDS, are assumed be used in acute pain situations where the dosage is minimal/infrequent enough it will likely have little to no long term effect with other medications.