#malice binder

[dailycharacteroption]

Malice Binder (Investigator Archetype)

(art by raynnerGIL on DeviantArt)

When one thinks of “witch hunter” in relation to Pathfinder, one typically thinks of some variant of the inquisitor class. I mean, it does have at least 3 anti-mage themed archetypes, among other things.

However, inquisitors, with all the baggage that comes with the concept, are not the only ones who may have beef with malicious practitioners of the arcane arts (or any, depending on their disposition). Indeed, some folk steeped in ancient traditions but with a keen mind, such as those living in rural communities, may learn enough of the old ways to fight back against those that would use them against them.

These so-called “Malice Binders” utilize old folk magic and the power of sympathetic magic as a weapon against magically-inclined foes, and if that sounds familiar, you’ve probably read about the 2E thaumaturge class, which sort of grew out of the inquisitor and occultist classes while managing to have magical folk power without ever casting a spell.

This archetype taps into two related concepts of the expert who deals with evil witches and mages, but also the “inquisition’s pet witch”, which can range in relationship from one of respect to one of abuse, these mage hunters (or perhaps a true mage in their company) being treated little better than a reviled but useful animal. Again, it really depends on the disposition of those involved.

Regardless, however, these hedge mages have what it takes to recognize the signs of magecraft and hitting mages where it hurts, so let’s take a look, shall we?

Rather than focus purely on knowledges, these investigators can apply their inspiration for free on skills associated with witch hunting, from recognizing magic and spells, tracking, and, most relevant to their skillset, the ability to steal from others with ease.

Indeed, the core ability of these hunters lies in their ability to acquire and recognize trinkets from their mark. Locks of hair, small baubles, scraps of cloth, and the like. Whether they steal it directly or find them in places where their prey has been, they can use these tokens in their own form of sympathetic magic.

Such effects include using an opposing holy symbol to instill dread, placing it between coins in the mouth to ward against the mage, soot to deafen or silence, rotten meat to repel them, literal salt in the wound to ward against further attacks, shackles to restrain, incense to fascinate, a compass to locate them, and an iron nail to inflict pain, all of which they must choose as they grow in skill.

Eventually, their skill at stealing such tokens from their marks becomes faster and easier, often leaving them shocked when they are missing even important items.

Alternatively, rather than learn a new fetter, these investigators can learn more traditional mundane or magical traps to help them literally ensnare their prey, not just ensorcell them.

This archetype is a clever idea for how to do a relatively nonmagical anti-mage, though the fact that these abilities don’t work on non-casters can be sometimes limiting, which is why the traps are a good alternate option. The fetters offer good defensive and offensive options for bringing down mages, and if you plan on taking traps too, I’d recommend those that deal continuous damage or inflict distracting conditions to help prevent spellcasting whenever possible. Beyond that, I recommend options to help disrupt in combat as well as better observe their environment.

I mentioned it earlier, but this archetype does remind me a bit of some things I’ve seen in fantasy fiction which toe the line between dark and even erotic, which might be inappropriate for some tables, so be careful where you draw inspiration from here. I imagine most characters will be simple witch hunters seeking to stop evil magic wherever they can, but even still, keep that in mind.

By inflaming anti-mage sentiment, the renegade chapter of the Sun God’s Faith known as the Unforgiving Eye has been gaining a lot of power and influence in recent years, and now they’re seeking to recruit malice binders from the hag-haunted lands of Ligos. However, there are plenty in Ligos that recognize the difference between good and evil practitioners, leading to something of a polarization among the populace.

Her family slain and her soul marked by a div cult, Vikari began learning all she could about the various weaknesses of magic and witchcraft so that she could destroy it wherever she found it. The young kasatha never expected, however, that she would find love among those she swore to destroy, however.

War is horror, and perhaps no war is more horrible than those where mages choose sides, leading to terrible destruction and survivors bearing curses worse than death. Seeking an edge, the party is sent to escort a malice binder seeking whatever scraps they can to cripple the enemy’s magical regiments… However, while scouring the battlefield, the party runs afoul a memitim psychopomp, who mistakes the occult arts of the binder as necromancy.

[serial-killers-hope]

ronin w/ a transmasc mc whos feeling dysphoric ... if possible ....

Your wish is my command. ~ DP

If he saw you like this… what would he say?

He knows you, all too well after all.

CW / TW :

- Gender Dysphoria

- Threatening ( Not to you and it’s a one time mention )

Enjoy.

Why Cry Over Spilled Milk?

You hear quiet grunts escape from the hallway, noting mentally who had come home. God, out of all the times… now was probably the worst. It made you dread when he came into the house in all honesty, you didn’t want to make him worry ( even if he made you worry more than he did for you ) over some trivial thing like this. Especially something you went through almost on a daily.

“Hey, you in ‘ere?”

The door is knocked upon by the devil himself. His eyes peeking through the crack as he noted where you sat. On the floor, in front of a mirror with scissors in your hand and hair strewn about.

It didn’t take a genius for Ronin to know how you were feeling, he knew when your hair got too long or your binder didn’t feel right that you’d feel dysphoric. So he did what any lover would do and stepped in. Closing the door behind him with a quiet click and a swift maneuver over to you.

“What’s wrong darlin’?… Bad day?”

You didn’t even speak, your gaze only falling down to the ground with a curt nod. It made his usual expression twitch a bit as he planted himself beside you, pulling you close to his chest with a quiet whistle.

“Why’d you cut your hair? Too long…? Or…?”

You hesitate for a second, shaking your head. Your voice came out, obvious that you were trying to sound more “masculine” as a way to comfort yourself.

“Just people. I was working and someone commented on it being too long for a guy… stupid I know.”

Ronin’s eye twitched a bit. His arms wrapped around your body with his head resting on your head with a soft shush of his voice. You could feel his gaze; cold and dark, on your hair. But it wasn’t with malice or hate… at least not towards you.

“I’ll kill ‘em if you want. ‘S nothing…”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him with a slight pout, shaking your head as you cling onto him for the contact and warmth that this demon of a man exuded.

“Please… just stay. I don’t… I don’t feel like who I wanna feel like. It’s like my body decided to do a one eighty and mentally damage every single ounce of respect I had for myself.”

You grumble in frustration, you could feel your eyes well in tears as he cradled the back of your head. Ronin’s eyes narrowed to you as he nodded in full understanding while he adjusted and let his lips graze your forehead as he whispered towards you.

“But you are who you are. No one makes you yourself but you, alright? Besides, who are they to tell you what you should look like? You’re the angel on my shoulder, my muse in a way. Isn’t that somethin’?”

You chuckled a bit, nodding as you pulled away and laid your head against his chest to listen in on his heartbeat. It was a strange comfort to know he wasn’t an actual demon who was trying to get your head on a stake.

“And, you’re a man. Forever, through and through. They don’t define you. Your traits don’t define you, your past, your name, nothing defines you but the brain in your head and the aorta I laid my claim on months ago.”

You snicker a bit at the reference he had made, all seven ( now teetering eight ) months… done and dusted. It was a graceful speech you knew he had ( even when he had suggested he’d take up writing ), although it probably was not the best moment. You’d thank him for that one day.

Ronin tilts your chin upwards to face him. Your eyes glued to his infinite darkness.

“I love you, nothin’ no one can do about it. You’re my boyfriend. Through and through.”

You smile slightly, tears now forcing their way out and rolling down your cheeks. You murmured a thank you as he nods and presses a soft and gentle kiss against your lips. He was warm and comforting, some devil who had an appetite for bloodshed he was…

And he loved you. Just for being you.

[alwaysandonlyahole]

We talk on an app for a few weeks and you seem so sweet and respectful. You have never been with a trans guy before but you tell me that you are bi and it doesn't matter to you. I am so excited to go on our first date and dress up in my best fake boy clothes. It doesn't fool anyone. I look like a little boy at best but usually just a lesbian or tomboy.

You ask if you can give me a hug and I feel so safe around you so against my better judgement I agree to go to your place after dinner. You bring me some water and I don't think as I gulp it down, we joke about staying hydrated and when I start feeling a little out of it I think it's just being nervous around a guy I like so much.

I forget my act when you kiss me and keen like a little kitten. The least manly noise you can imagine. I'm so desperate to be touched, it's been so long since I trusted someone enough to let them this close. I'm so light headed and infatuated with you I would do anything so I'm perfectly compliant when you guide us to your bedroom.

On the bed you climb on top of me and I realize in a haze that you have gotten me out of my boy clothes and I'm down to a binder and boxers. You laugh and something about it snaps me back to attention. You lean down and whisper into my ear.

"I'm going to rape my child into you. You're going to be my good girl from now on."

No malice or even threat. Just a matter of fact. I try and scream, to fight, but my voice and arms are so weak. All I can do is whimper and cry as you rip my binder off and start to play with my little tits.

"these will fill out when you get that garbage out of your blood and they'll be bigger than ever with the baby comes."

I try to scream again but it comes out as a sad little moan as you suck on my nipples and my cunt drips in response against my will. When you pull off my boxers you see this and laugh at me. You shove two thick fingers in and they come out slick with evidence of my undeniable biology.

"Look, you are a good girl. Deep down you know what you are for. Now lay back and enjoy. You can thank me later for saving you from your stupid delusion."

Tears are streaming from my eyes as you shove your thick cock in to me, I can't help but moan, I hate it, I would rather die than be impregnated, filled up by a real man, walking around so hugely and undeniably female but it feels so good. My little cunt is twitching around you and you laugh at me.

"you really just came from just one pump? Your body is so desperate to be breed. Don't worry. I'm going to keep you and breed you for the rest of your life. Your going to forget what it was ever like to not have my child in you."

I can't stop my stupid body, I have never hated anyone more but my hips rise up to met your thrust and I come over and over as you pump load after load of your seed into my greedy little hole.

This is my life now, your breeding slave.

[hiskillingjar]

Heeeyy do you think you could do some headcanons for strade and ren with a femenine transmasc mc?

trans rights! yeah! trans rights!!!

ren 🦊

ren's a super open-minded and progressive guy so he wouldn't have like. anything to say about it

if you corrected him on your pronouns even once, he'd take it on and wouldn't slip up again.

he's super plugged into like. queer + trans stuff online too so he wouldn't need to be schooled on much either

if you were more fem presenting, he'd be thrilled! best of both worlds (he likes feminine aesthetics and presentation while being pan)

might want to dabble in forcefem. because. horny

he'd also be super comfortable dating a trans person, fem or masc. pan privilege!

he'd have reminders of your t-shots on his phone and he'd be really attentive to keeping you stocked with testosterone and meds (even in the captive scenario <3)

genuinely, ask him to do anything and he'd do it. as long as you kept sweet on him ^_^

law 🥀

law wouldn't. really understand at first

especially if you were more feminine presenting. they would assume stuff and be presumptuous off the bat.

that's purely down to ignorance and not being exposed to it though, not out of genuine malice

if you sat them down and like. spoke through things, they'd be like "ah...okay...i think i understand better now"

and like. if you actually talked them through queer resources and that kind of thing, maybe even gave them some books or showed them trans art or literature, they might even be like "oh...this feels right, actually."

congratulations! you cracked the egg and you're t4t now!!

strade 🔨

does not care

way more plugged into the discourse than law is but he's a bisexual cis man in his thirties. he doesn't care

he'll use the right words in regular day-to-day life, regardless of the presentation. he's observant in that respect

but like. come on

he's a sadistic asshole lol

he'll cut off your binder and call you a 'good girl' if it makes you uncomfortable and scared

i think he'd also take the opportunity to play around with gender in the sexy way too, ala forcemasc and forcefem, as long as it got the reaction he wanted.

if you were boring, it would get dropped for something else though.

he'd be casually transphobic to get on your nerves while supplying you readily with testosterone and using the right pronouns. he's genuinely just an asshole, not bigoted in the slightest lol

[jugsonmydick]

I have really little tits. They used to be a C cup but when I went in testosterone they went down to an A so I donated my binder and got rid of all my sports bras because I didn't need them and most of them didn't fit anymore, but I've gone back up to a B since then and now everyone can see my chest through my shirt because I don't have anything to cover it up. You probably don't care because you're into bigger tits than mine but they bounce when going down stairs and I have cleavage if they get pressed together and everyone can see how girly I am now

sounds like they totally make you dysphoric. rest assured, you can be certain that LITERALLY EVERYONE IS CLOCKING YOU NOW. i know you think that's only the worst case scenario, but i only think its fair that you know that whenever they bounce, even when no ones looking, they're thinking that you're a woman. it's not something to get offended by, don't worry! they don't mean it out of malice!! it's just the thought that pops into their head the SECOND they see you. there's not a shred of masculinity that they can see 😊💚

[mooneln0ne]

What’s your favorite Kobylu au you’ve done so far?

ALSOO do you by any chance have any Kobylu headcanons if so would love to see them!! /nf

Ah sorry it took me awhile to answer this ^^;

This is is my favorite Kobylu au it has a special place in my heart because it’s my first Kobylu au

Brrr I have a few headcanons for them

-(Modern au) Luffy is unironically a weezer fan and Koby supports his endeavors

-If Luffy or Koby are ever in a spot where they fight together, they would have fun, throwing each other around and complimenting at how strong they’ve gotten

-Koby loves spoiling Luffy but he’d just retaliate with an affectionately bone crushing way to pay it back

-Fighting is their love language—but it isn’t out of malice, it’s like roughhousing or sparring thats full of laughter: “Wow you’ve grown so strong!!” Luffy would compliment as he punches Koby through five cement walls. “Thank you!! You’re so kind, Luffy!” Koby would reply to him and throw him so hard into the air that it would decimate a normal person’s bones.

-Casual Transgender Luffy and Self conscious transgender Koby. Luffy has never worn a binder in his entire life but Koby has. He’s scared to get top surgery </3 but Its ok because Luffy supported him enough that he went through with it!!

-In a modern setting, I absolutely love the Kobylu where Koby serves in the military and comes back home to Luffy where Luffy greets him a like a pet who hasn’t seen their owner in several years and was presumed dead

- (forbidden headcanon) ………..they kin date

[saiintofawe]

you. akutagawa head cannons

YOU. HERE WE GO.

he's really ticklish (and later tonite i might post a little thing related to that)

he actually really loves animals. they hold no malice. he had bad experiences with dogs back in the slums but he doesn't hate hate them, just prefers to have nothing to do with them

he braids gin's hair

akutagawa has ocd. i KNOW he does

he honestly likes his lack of eyebrows. adds to his victorian gothic look

akutagawa has a lot of moles, especially on his face

he broke his nose SO many times that it became a running joke between him and gin

i hc that akutagawa looks a lot like his mother but does not recall her face anymore

he bites his nails

he just has the tendency to avoid sleeping as much as he can and that results into him passing out of exhaustion in the most inconvenient situations

akutagawa really likes flowers. he secretly wishes he had the time to cultivate his own botanic garden

gin found out that their brother can sing because he was absolutely DEVOURING the only exception by paramore while doing the laundry. akutagawa denied his ability to sing when gin pointed that out and keeps refusing to aknowledge his secret talent.

likes classical music as well as alternative music

it was gin and chuuya that got him into nu metal/goth/emo rock music

prefers goth out of the genres i just listed

avid the cure fan

akutagawa would rather die again than get a driver's license. it's either higuchi drives him where he needs to be or he's gonna walk to the other side of the world but that man is NOT getting behind the wheel

he's lactose intolerant but chooses to ignore said intolerance and actively drinks milk in spite of it. don't ask about how bad his tummyaches are

used rashomon as a binder before getting top surgery

has a nice collection of earrings but wears them only when he's off duty or if there's some fancy event at work

knows english and a good bit of spanish

both are self-taught. he learned english because it is useful for mafia affairs that involve other countires and spanish bc he thinks it sounds really cool

akutagawa is CLINGY behind closed doors.

and i mean CLINGY clingy. he holds onto gin's sleeve as if they were still in the slums while in the security of their home. atsushi has to get up to get ready for work? too bad! akutagawa refuses to let go of him and WILL cling onto him even more firmly because he just needs to feel his loved ones close okay.

he's chuuya's therapist and chuuya is his. none of them are all that suited for the job but at least they support each other's bad decisions

this said my dear i am going to sleep! goodnight and dream of akutagawa bsd

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader x Gon/Killua)

Ch 6: So Long Greed Island, Hello...Not Ging???

Synopsis: After healing everyone's injuries, a contest for the final card is held. Gon gets to find out a little more about Ging, leaving you to figure out what exactly it is you want. (Spoiler alert: it might have to do with your two boys)

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

It didn't take you long to reach the meeting place, even with the extra weight you were carrying (and dragging). There were of course questions from Killua and Bisky about what the hell had happened to Gon. All of which you made the injured boy explain himself, in great detail, about how careless he'd been while you lined up Genthru with his goons.

It was decided the four of you would wait until the bombers woke up to fix any damage taken in battle.

God you couldn't wait to have your leg working again.

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

A few hours later and Genthru finally awakened. Malice gone from his aura, replaced with a sense of defeat.

"You awake? Hurry and get your binder out," Killua ordered.

"That's right. We want you to return all the cards from the people you betrayed," Bisky added.

Betrayed was putting it lightly, very lightly.

"On one condition," Genthru's voice was weak. Gon must've done quite the number on him.

"Use Angel's Breath to heal Barra of his injuries."

You wanted to laugh.

How absolutely ridiculous.

This man, who had killed hundreds, and was about to do the same to your kids, was asking for his partner in crime to be healed.

All the people who died for this man's greed, he killed with a twisted smile on his face. But one beating and he's begging for his friend's injuries to be healed.

It wasn't fair and it sure as hell wasn't right.

They deserved to suffer

Your relaxed expression turned into a grimace. They deserved to be left the way they were: suffering in agony. And yet....

And yet you knew the boys had made the right decision. They wanted a fair fight with no casualties from either side. Because killing or leaving them to fend for themselves with their wounds, would make them no better than the bombers.

They were good kids.

You were not

"We have a Clone card," Genthru tried again.

"Don't worry about it. That was always apart of the plan," Killua dismissed.

"We already prepared 7 copies of Clone for just such an occasion," Bisky said.

Genthru's eyes widened in shock. Seems he wasn't expecting your group's kindness.

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

Bisky summoned an Angel's Breath. The first one to be healed was Gon. (it definitely didn't have anything to do with your insistence.)

A beautiful woman emerged from the card.

"What manner of aid do you wish of me?" Her voice was soft as she asked.

"We need you to heal his hands," Killua started. "And while you're at it, maybe fix that eye too"

"Just heal every single injury he has, got it?" You butted in.

"That is a simple task, and so I shall restore his body to its former state."

A bright light surrounded Gon and his injuries were healed in an instant. He stared in amazement at his new arm before cheering.

You hardly had time to react before small arms wrapped themselves around you. You stood stiff for a moment as Gon jostled you around.

This was new.

Not necessarily bad, but new.

"Okay, you're all better. Now let's fix tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum before we can get too exited, okay?" You slowly pried the boy's arms off you.

"Sorry, I'm just really happy right now!" Gon ducked his head down in slight embarrassment.

Next up to be fixed was Barra from Genthru's team. Whatever Bisky did to him had his face all sorts of messed up. His nose was completely broken and his face had splatters of blood. With Angel's Breath, he was as good as new in a few seconds.

It would have been Killua's turn next if Goreinu hadn't messed with the cards to stop your group from healing Genthru's.

"If you use Angel's Breath to heal these murderers, then the trade is off," Goreinu threatened.

"Could I use it?" Killua asked.

"Yeah, of course."

"But I'm an assassin."

Oh, you knew where this was going.

Killua had a point about that, one that you hadn't considered because of your own personal biases.

"Sure they've killed, I've killed more," Killua continued.

"Every player in this game risks their life in one way or another. That doesn't mean it's okay to kill people...but all the people I killed weren't nearly as ready to die as these guys did. I'm way worse than they could ever be."

Worse than them, maybe. But worse than you? You were scum compared to his entire family.

"You're wrong, you're not at all like them," Goreinu argued. "I mean, I like you, but these guys, I hate their guts."

"You can hate somebody with everything you have, it still doesn't make it right to have them suffer for your peace of mind." Your tired eyes met his.

It was something you had a hard time coming to terms with yourself.

"Yeah but-!"

"Let me level with you here. I'm not exactly a good person either. I'd love nothing more than to leave them here for everything they've done, but is that really justice? What's separating us from them at that point? It just doesn't make a whole lotta sense that way."

"Forget sense, it's how I feel!"

"Y/n's right. It's not our place to leave someone to die just because we hate them." You were thankful for Bisky backing you up. It gave you more time to think.

Damn, just how soft had you gotten.

"Both sides risked their lives in battle, and both are prepared to kill if necessary. But when the fight's over, well... Those rules cease to apply," she explained.

It was Gon who spoke next.

"I still haven't forgiven Genthru for killing all those other players, not yet at least."

And you'd never forgive him for almost killing your boy.

"But before the fight even started, the four of us agreed we'd bring 7 clone cards with us just in case. I don't really remember why we decided that, but I do remember one thing: it wasn't based on logic and reason."

No, no it was not.

But you remember in that moment feeling the auras around you. All of them determined, and none malicious, even when the possibility of leaving the bombers behind came up.

"It just made sense to us," Gon continued. "Once the fight was over and we obtained the Angel's Breath card, we would use it on whoever was hurt. We made the decision together, so we wanted to stick to it....But I get how you're feeling Mr. Goreinu, guess it can't be helped."

Then he turned to face both you and Killua.

"Sorry guys, do you think you can wait a little longer?"

"Not a problem. My hands will eventually heal on their own," Killua assured.

"I'll live but I'll probably need some assistance from a boy who likes to be reckless and show off. Whaddya think Mr. Jan-Ken-Rock?" You lightly teased.

Gon flashed the both of you a grateful smile.

"It's a promise then."

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

It was decided shortly after that the final Angel's Breath would go to Genthru. When he was all healed up, the four of you prepared to leave for Masadora.

"Wait!" Goreinu stopped all of you before you left.

"All right you can have Angel's Breath! Whatever you guys want!"

"Really!?!? You're sure???" Gon questioned.

"Well, to be honest, even before you told me everything I wanted to give it to you. And not just Angel's Breath, but all the cards that we gathered in the game."

A collective gasp of shock came from your group. You focused your eyes on Goreinu, sure enough he seemed genuine. He went on to explain that Tsezguerra and his team agreed to it, and they were all officially quitting.

After making a few more Clones, Killua's hands were finally healed. He threw a few punches in the air to get a feel for them. And being the gremlin he is, he then proceeded to zap you from his finger tips.

Then it was finally your turn.

"What manner of aid do you wish of me?" The angel repeated for the sixth time. You lifted up your throbbing leg.

"Fix this for me, will you?" And before she could grant your request, Gon and Killua quickly pushed their way in front of you.

"And make them not tired anymore!" Gon shouted.

"Yeah, and while you're at it, get rid of those bags under their eyes too!" Killua added in.

You stood shocked for a moment before you started sputtering over your words.

"Now hang on just a second!!! I didn't ask for all that-!!! You're both goblins!!! Absolute goblins!!!"

Then you were engulfed in the bright light and all the pain from your leg vanished. And for once, you didn't feel so exhausted.

You placed your full weight on what had been your injured foot. Once you were sure it was fine, your head snapped up in the direction of your troublesome kids.

"Ah man, they've still got those nasty circles under their eyes," Killua huffed out.

"You've got until the count of three before I chase you two down for being little menaces." Your tone was playful enough that it let them know you weren't really mad.

Gon took your warning a rushed off while Killua stood where he was.

The duality of goblins.

"Ooh! I'm so scared!" The mini assassin taunted.

"I gave you a head start."

In the blink of an eye, you appeared in front of him and tossed him over your shoulder. He let out a small screech and lightly pounded on your back.

"No fair! You didn't even start counting!"

"Boo hoo, cry me a river why don't you....Now for the other one."

You spotted Gon a little ways away. He was hiding behind a pretty stable boulder. Too bad you could see his aura anyway.

You jumped on top of the rock and leaned over him.

"Found you!"

He jumped, started and before he could take off again, he was already hauled over your other shoulder.

Killua stopped his previous assault on your back and waved at Gon.

"Hey, just got here huh?"

The boy in green nodded.

"Yup, but at least I did better than you."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

You were close enough to Bisky and Goreinu to hear part of their conversation. It was something along the lines of splitting money? Eh, not like you needed it anyways.

You were, unfortunately, barred off from hearing anymore of the conversation thanks to the shouts of the boys on your shoulders.

"Y/N!!!" They both shouted.

You paused your fast steps.

"What?"

"Who did better!!!!"

You shook your head in disbelief.

"What???"

"Just say it was me, I stood my ground. Unlike somebody!" Killua gave a fake glare at Gon.

"Oh yeah!?!? Well I didn't scream like a girl when they caught me, unlike you!!!"

You should've dropped both of them right then. But you were just so damn flabbergasted. They were not actually arguing for your approval, were they?

"Here's a tidbit, you're both the absolute worst and suck." You answered. It was silent for a second, then-

"Are you still upset about the eye thing?" Killua broke the silence.

"We just didn't want you to be tired anymore, and it was Killua's idea. So don't be mad at me," Gon tried to sway you.

"Hey! Traitor! You said you wouldn't tell them!!!"

You let out a loud laugh.

They were such boys.

Then you got a brilliant idea. A very brilliant idea. If they could see your aura right now, all they'd see is mischief.

"We're going down!" Then with no other warning, you flopped forward, effectively crushing both boys under your arms.

"Hey! You're heavy! Get off!!!" Killua whined.

"Is this one for the eye thing? Come on, Sib we can't move!!!" Gon complained.

You stilled for a second, in thought.

"Sib, huh? What's that about?" You flopped your head to Gon's side. Said boy was currently trying his best to avoid your gaze.

Killua, seeing an opportunity to get back at Gon, decided to out him.

"Yeah, Sib. He came up with it. Short for sibling. He wanted to give you a nickname like the ones you have for us."

Your head flopped over to Killua's side.

"All by himself?"

The small assassin's aura was mischievous like yours.

"All by himself."

You lifted up your right arm.

"Okay, Gon. You're free to go."

"What!?!?" Killua panicked.

Gon on the other hand jumped up, and when he caught Killua's gaze, playfully stuck his tongue out before rushing over to Bisky.

"How come he gets to go free?!?!"

"Because I don't hear you coming up with something that considerate."

"Oh I have a few names I'd like to call you right now, but you won't let me curse!"

"I can roll over, you know?"

"And I can bite you."

"Gremlin."

"Eye bags."

"Okay you know what-" you were cut off by a sudden weight on your back. Causing you to lift up your arm and for Killua to squirm away.

"Gon! You didn't leave me in the trenches after all!" Killua celebrated.

You turned over and caught sight of both of them.

"Betrayed by my own boy. How cruel. After I carried you to safety."

"Boo hoo, cry me a river," Killua parroted back to you.

You shot back up.

"Round two?" Gon nervously laughed.

"Round two," you confirmed.

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

It was about an hour later that you finally quit terrorizing the boys. They were eager to start filling up their binders with the cards Tsezguerra left behind. As Gon put the last one in his binder, something strange happened.

An announcement was made to every player that someone was one card away from winning the game(Gon) and a special quiz event would be held for the final card.

You tensed up as you felt several new auras approach. Bisky and Goreinu were caught off guard by them as well.

You quickly took a protective stance in front of Gon and Killua as best you could. Two of the uninvited guests walked forward.

"Don't worry, we didn't come here to interfere or anything." The bigger one said.

"You might say we're here to assist," said the other.

"Assist from a distance then," you warned. You could feel something was off with their aura. It was disingenuous somehow.

The duo held up their hands in surrender and stayed put.

"To assist?" Gon questioned.

"That's right. If we get the top score on the quiz and obtain the final card, we'll sell it to you for 2.5 billion." The taller one answered.

Money again?

God, these bozos were only proving your point about hunters. At least you didn't feel any bloodlust coming from them.

"That's just 5% of your total reward. A pretty reasonable price don't you think?"

Gon and Killua nodded to each other.

"Sounds good to us, if you guys win," Killua answered.

You let out an irritated sigh.

"Don't let them extort you, dummies. There's nothing stopping them from just taking the card and running."

You glanced down at Bisky, silently pleading with her to help you stop the boys' from being stupid. Thankfully, she took the hint.

"With the game coming close to the end, they're probably hoping to get some, if not all, of the reward for themselves. It's tricky for sure, so...What should we do?"

"Well, I think that we outta do it by ourselves!" Gon answered.

Killua's eyes lit up at the idea.

"Yeah! And whoever gets the lowest scores gets punished!"

Gon beamed right back at him.

"Yeah! I'm in!"

You really should have been prepared for this by now. It happened so often, you should've seen it coming. But you were still completely caught off guard when they both looked back at you with huge smiles.

"And Y/n can be the one who decides the punishment!!!" The mini assassin exclaimed.

Before you could give a rebuttal, the other boy hurriedly spoke.

"And the winner gets to get carried for the day!!!!"

"Now you're talking! Ha! I'm gonna be a giant!"

"You wish!!! There's no way I'm gonna lose now!"

You bonked the two of them on the back of their heads.

"Now hold on! I don't remember agreeing to these terms! And I don't recall volunteering to help the vertically challenged!"

"Aww come on! Don't be like that, sib!" Killua whined.

You felt embarrassment creep back up.

"Don't you 'sib' me! Like hell I'm gonna let you butter me up!"

Then you felt a small tug on your arm. Looking down, you were met with the most powerful puppy dog eyes you've ever seen.

Gon was staring up at you, a small pout evident on his face.

"Please!"

And damn him and those honey colored eyes. And damn the other one for wearing you down with just one word.

You heard a chuckle from the side, and gave a small glare at the person who it belonged to. Bisky waved back in response.

"You know they won't leave you alone until you agree, right?" She teased.

You let out a very exhausted groan.

"Fine." You were immediately met with cheers.

"But, I get to decide what day. Got it, goblins?"

They nodded excitedly and plopped down on the grass to start the quiz.

Gon seemed pretty confident with his answers while Killua got stumped by a few. It was only a matter of time before the winner was announced.

"With a total of 87 out of 100 points, the winning player is...Gon."

You couldn't contain the smile that broke out across your face, nor could you contain yourself from cheering alongside the two boys.

You were just so glad he was able to beat his father's game.

"That means Killua's gonna get punished by Y/n," Gon teased his best friend.

"And I know just what we're gonna do: speed training," You jazzed your hands for emphasis.

"Demon," Killua muttered.

Gon stuck out his tongue while you laughed.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by the screech of an owl that dropped down a letter. Inside it was a Non-Specified Slot Card.

It was called Ruler's Invitation and only the one with the card could go to the designated location. Which meant, Gon would have to go inside the building by himself.

While the three of you were discussing, some more goons came by to try and take cards.

"Okay, then. Let's have a competition. Winner gets all your cards." You didn't have to be close to that idiot to know his breath was rancid.

"Sorry, but you don't have a choice," his buddy backed up.

You were so sick of these people. For fucks sake, these were kids they were trying to steal from. Were they mental?

It seems you were at your breaking point because before you knew it, you kicked off your shoe and into your hand. You covered your eyes and threw it as hard as you could towards the buffoons.

This didn't count as fighting, right? Surely you earned yourself a freebee after dealing with so many of these creeps. And your eyes were closed, totally non-fighting behavior.

Two loud thuds were heard, and like a boomerang your shoe flung back in your hand. You uncovered your eyes to see the two men laying face down on the ground. You focused your attention on putting your shoe back on as you noticed a trickle of blood come from one of their noses.

You turned your attention back to the two boys who knew better than to ask what just happened, lest they risk your wrath next.

"Sorry, munchkin. Think you could repeat that?"

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

It was decided that Drift would be used first, then Accompany to get the rest of you there. The four of you arrived as the sun started to set. Gon went in by himself, leaving you, Bisky, and Killua behind.

"Wonder what he's feeling?" Bisky asked.

"What do you mean?" Killua questioned in return.

"I mean, he might actually meet Ging, right? The father he's been searching for all this time." She answered.

You doubted that was the case, but you didn't want to say anything.

"Oh, Y/n," Killua called out. You nodded to show you were listening.

"I've been meaning to ask you. You kept calling out a name in your sleep."

You immediately stilled. Had you been so careless in your sleep that you let something slip? Had you been letting your aura slip?

"Let's see, what was it? Oh! Kari! You kept saying 'Kari' in your sleep. I wanted to ask you who that was." Killua didn't notice your tense posture, but Bisky did. Was this it? Was she finally gonna get answers from you?

Silence.

A little more silence.

Then, in the softest voice they've ever heard, came your answer.

"She was someone very close to me....Hey Killua?"

At last, the small assassin sensed your discomfort. Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up after all.

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever ask me about that again."

Your eyes looked so empty in that moment. They were devoid of any of your usual laziness.(softness) They weren't your eyes.

You got up without looking at either of them.

"I'm going for a walk."

They didn't stop you.

And when Gon came back with great news, they didn't tell him about your sudden coldness. Even as he suggested they look for you, they told him it was best to leave you be.

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

You didn't know where you were going. All you knew was that you needed to get away. It was just too much for you.

You wanted to scream, to cry, anything that would take your mind away from things. But you didn't deserve relief. You deserved to suffer.

Goddamnit!

You could control what you said and did when you were awake. But the fact that you had slipped up in your sleep. You were an idiot, a disgrace.

Were you really that careless, or was it because you had let your guard down so much?

Whatever the reason, you were pathetic. You shouldn't have been that cold towards Killua. He didn't know, he couldn't have possibly known not to ask that.

It was just something you weren't ready to talk about, or ever talk about. No that wasn't right.

You didn't want to remember.

You let out a tired sigh.

God, you really messed up, didn't you? Maybe you could apologize? Would they even accept an apology from you? Could you even go back?

You still haven't even decided what you were gonna do. Stay here or leave.

What was there for you if you stayed? An eternity of loneliness? You supposed you deserved it anyways.

But what was there for you if you left? You could tag along with the boys if Killua agreed to forgive you. But what then? Gon would find his father and then what?

You'd have to face reality again.

You clenched your fist.

You weren't strong enough to protect them if something happened.

"I don't like it when it rains." The older one huffed out.

"How come?"

"All the bugs come out and they're sooo scary!"

"Ha! Well, I'll save you from them. You do so much for me, it's time I protected you."

You let out a pitiful laugh.

Maybe you could play pretend just a little while longer. Look out and protect each other. Do what you can do so they can do what you can't.

Your mind was made up.

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

The sun was up and there was still no sign of you. Both boys were worried sick about you. Bisky did her best to console them, saying you'd be there any minute. As a last resort, they used an Accompany to find you.

They landed at the bay area, much to their surprise. You weren't just gonna leave, were you?

"We were looking everywhere for you!!! Why'd you just leave like that?!?" You didn't look up as the boy in green tried to lecture you.

Gon was the one who found you. He shouted to alert Bisky and Killua, then hurried towards you. You sat near the edge of the water, legs folded to your chest.

You could feel nervous auras from the other two, Killua's especially.

"I'm an idiot, that's why," you mumbled. "That and I needed to think about what I wanted."

"What you wanted?"

After what felt like an eternity, you raised your head up and looked behind you.

"Yeah...I'm sorry for leaving. I didn't mean to make you worry." Your words were directed at Killua and Bisky.

The white haired boy crossed his arms and avoided your gaze, embarrassment flooding through his aura along with relief.

"Whatever, just don't do it again."

Bisky's eyes softened.

"You're fine. The only ones you worried were the boys."

You gave a tired smile at that.

"Hey, when you said you were thinking about what you wanted, what was it?" You sensed hopefulness from Gon.

Maybe he knew the outcome before you did all along.

"I want to stay with you and Killua. At least until we find Ging. Someone needs to keep you two out of trouble, you know?" This time it was you who ducked your head down in embarrassment.

"That is, if you're okay with me tagging along."

You felt yourself being pulled up and into a hug. But unlike last time when you stood stiff, this time you returned it.

Something else you hadn't done in years.

"We wouldn't have it any other way, right Killua?"

"It's not like we were gonna leave the game without them."

Well, didn't you feel special.

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

Beating Greed Island meant Gon got to choose any of three cards he wanted to bring into the real world. Bisky got a gemstone card while Gon and Killua chose the other two.

They did feel a little guilty and asked if you wanted anything, to which you replied they'd owe you a favor that they had to do no matter what.

You took your first step out into the real world since 2 years ago. It didn't feel any different, but you knew you had to be more careful. You glanced to your left, seeing Bisky get all happy with her new gemstone.

Which begs the question, what exactly did the boys get?

You could sense some mischief from Gon as he exited the game.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he brought out the Paladin's Necklace card and used it on the Strip of Beach. It transformed into an Accompany.

Strange.

Bisky thought so too as she questioned them about it.

"It's just, if I hadn't been the first to enter the game, then I wouldn't have noticed," Gon explained.

"Noticed what?" You didn't get it quite yet.

"Do you two remember when we played rock-paper-scissors?" Killua continued.

"You mean Jan-ken?" Bisky clarified.

"Yeah."

Then Gon took over explaining again.

"See, I was the first person to enter the game. And while I was standing there waiting for Killua, there was nobody else around. That means the first person I met in the game should've been the second to show up: Mr. Goreinu.

"But it wasn't. When I checked my binder, it said that there was somebody I met before him...Ging is spelled G-I-N-G."

And then it clicked. His father had used an anagram:Nigg.

Still weird, but kinda clever. It meant he did leave behind a clue for Gon after all. And with the Accompany card, he could meet his dad right now.

"Maybe this was his way of trying to tell me if I'm ready to give up everything I have and go find him, then I have to get strong enough to clear the game."

You bonked the boy on the back of his head.

"Don't be stupid and say things you don't mean. You'll do what you can to find him. You're not gonna give up anything important to you for a man who wasn't there."

Gon giggled slightly.

"I guess when you put it like that...But you know what I mean."

"You're a tenacious one. It's impressive," Bisky said. "Well, what're you planning to do once you find Ging?"

Gon's face lit up once again.

"That's easy! I'll introduce him to Killua! I'll tell him he's my best friend in the world!"

The other boy quickly became flustered and stumbled over his words.

"You what-!?! Shut up!!! That's embarrassing man!"

To which you laughed at before Karma got you.

"And then I'll introduce him to Y/n. I bet he'll be glad to hear about how much they've helped me, and I'll make sure to tell him that they've been a really great big sibling.

Your face felt scorching hot as you hid behind your hands.

"What did I say about talking like that? You can't just say stuff like that out of the blue, you know!"

You were caught off guard by Bisky's sudden crying.

"R-really?!?! O-oh stop!?!"

It was kinda funny to see someone so headstrong and strict break down from a few soft words.

"I-hiccup- can't take it! It must be my age, but it's so easy to make me cry!!!"

"Oh hey! Why don't you come with us to see Ging, Bisky," Gon offered.

She stood silent for a moment before answering.

"Thank you, but I think I'll pass...I'm not interested in men with kids."

WHAT????

The hell did that have to do with anything????

But unlike you, Gon and Killua just brushed it off.

"Okay! I guess that's it then. Take care, Bisky!"

She smiled brightly at the three of you.

"I will. And you guys too, okay?"

With one final 'thank you' for Bisky, the three of you'd used Accompany to find Gon's dad.

You would never get used to the sensation of that, or how much faster it was compared to your speed. In just a few seconds, you'd landed in a foggy area.

Having previous PTSD from Hisoka, you guided the boys behind you and used your eyes to scan the aura ahead of you.

There was some shock(no doubt caused by your abrupt entrance) but other than that they seemed calm.

They were sitting under a tree with their back facing you, fishing pole in hand. So far so good right?

Tentatively, Gon took a step forward.

"G-Ging?" You could feel his hesitance to call out. Like he couldn't believe it was true.

But something wasn't right. As soon as Gon had taken a step forward, the person sitting down got up and their aura shifted.

In a speed that rivaled yours, the man who you could see clearly now, hit Gon to the left and Killua to the right. He met your panicked gaze and before he could make a move towards you, you jumped back with a skid.

What the hell was going on!?!?

Your eyes widened as he summoned what appeared to be a small clown.

"In my mouth is a roulette containing the numbers 1 all the way through 9. You get a different weapon for each number on the wheel. I AM THE GREAT MAD CLOWN, CRAZY SLOTS! HOPE YOU GET SOMETHING GOOD!"

The thing, it spoke!?!?

Then it's tongue started to spin.

"FOUR!"

The clown then turned into...

WAS THAT A GUN!!?!?

"Damn, bad roll," the man muttered. Then he aimed the gun towards Gon's direction.

Oh no

No

Not again

You summoned all your nen towards your legs and were in front of Gon in an instant. As the trigger was pulled and the sound of shots filled the air, you were already over to Killua.

You covered both boys with your body until the shots stopped. Upon further inspection, you could notice the small bodies of what looked like ants get blown over in debris.

"Are ya hurt?"

You stiffened at the man's voice. Your previous fear now replaced with anger. From under you, both boys could see a very familiar look that crossed your features during the meeting with Asta.

You were already up and stomping towards the assailant.

"Cover your ears!" You tossed your head back as you addressed them. Not wanting to upset you further, they did as you asked.

Well they half covered their ears, but you didn't need to know about that

"YOU FUCKING FUCK!"

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

Fun Fact #7: Y/n doesn't fight because they can't. They don't fight because they made a promise not to

MASTERLIST

Tags: @fandomhoe101

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

An: If you'd like to be tagged for this story, please let me know 🤗

[hunterwritesstuff]

Uh if it isn’t to much trouble could I get a Eddie x FTM reader?

YESSSSS

"You're trans? Does that mean I need to change your mailing address?"

He's confused at first, but upon you teaching him more, he's accepting and all the happier for you having discovered this about yourself!

He's touched that you trust him enough to tell him!

If you need anything, he's ready to help!

Need a binder? He's off to find one!

Need help transitioning? He'll do what he can to help!

He loves you for you! The instant you tell him you're trans? "Now I have a super awesome boyfriend!"

He'll switch to more masculine compliments("Handsome", stuff like that!)!

If he forgets sometimes, he apologizes whenever you remind him-he truly doesn't mean malice!

He's totally willing to go out clothes shopping with you!

Gender dysphoria kicking your ass? Here comes Eddie with comfort food and reassurance that you're a man no matter what!

All in all, total sweetheart who's trying his best!

[dailycharacteroption]

Hybrid Class Review: Investigator part 3

(art by LaminIllustration on DeviantArt)

Archetypes

The investigator boasts an interesting set of archetypes, so let’s dive right in! I tend to divide these archetypes into four categories.

Perhaps the first group I’d like to go over are those investigators that are still expressly detectives while dropping the alchemy in favor of other specializations. Perhaps none is more iconic here than the sleuth, which feels like it was made specifically to be a non-specialized detective that drops alchemy entirely in favor of having a pool of luck to help them through the day. Meanwhile, the Jinyiwe focuses on divine mandate and gains spells from such a source, while the Psychic Detective instead uses psychic magic and their sensitivity to gain clues and insights as well as defend themselves. Scavengers also exist which use quasi-magical gadgets instead of alchemical potions, and the Questioner augments their interviews with bardic magic. Additionally, Spiritualists (the archetype, not the class) channel the spirits of the dead to gain answers, while Malice Binders turn witchcraft lore against the wicked.

Of course, some investigators keep the alchemy while still having their own specializations as detectives. Bonded Investigators make use of a familiar ally, for example, while Steel Hounds are never without their trusty firearms. Ciphers investigate by being supernaturally unnoticeable by those that would stop them, while Cult Hunters and Infiltrators both finds ways to find and put a stop to secret societies and insular groups. Others specialize in gleaning secrets from the dead, such as Gravediggers and Dread Investigators, though their methods differ. Empiricists use unfailing logic to defeat deception and trickery, while Profilers use psychological profiles to determine suspects. Forensic Physicians are trained to glean secrets from the dead in a more mundane manner, while Skeptics use their keen senses and knowledge of parlor tricks to reveal fake hauntings and deal with the real ones. Meanwhile, Guardians of Immortaility, Lepidstadt Inspectors, and Ruthless Agents are known for their dogged pursuit of their goals. Finally, Hallucinists use mind-altering substances to reveal the truth, while Lamplighters reveal with alchemical light sources.

Of course, there are some so-called “investigators” that actually deserve investigation of their own, notably the Conspirators, who hide their activities and deceive others, and the Masterminds, master manipulators that can coach their allies on plans in advance.

While plenty of investigator characters may not actually be professional detectives, some of these archetypes are expressly not that while still using their brilliant intellect. Some are scholars and archaeological collectors, such as Antiquarians, while others study mysterious beasts like Cryptid Scholars. Meanwhile, Cartographers and Star Watcher, who study their charts for very different effects, are also a possibility. Engineers create inspired devices, while Holomog Demolitionists destroy with shocking precision and cunning. Utterly ignored but shockingly competent is the Majordomo, who serves dutifully and organizes those under them to great effect, while Tekritanin Arbiters put their brilliant minds to resolving conflict. Natural Philosophers meanwhile study nature directly, while Portal Seekers study the realms beyond the natural. Finally, Reckless Epicureans test their experimental formulae on themselves, while Toxin Codexers specialize in understanding poisons even beyond the standard investigator’s knowledge.

As you can see, these archetypes come in all shapes and sizes, but all in the end fall back on the core theme of the investigator, which is finding the truth. That truth may be the mysteries of a crime or misdeed, or they may be more esoteric such as scientific advancement, occult mysteries, and beyond.

That does it for today, but tomorrow I’ll share some thoughts on the class as a whole.

[cartoonrival]

if you were going to put naruto in regular prison what would he have gotten arrested for (within the context of kuwtu obviously)

umm perhaps he is unwise with how he handles government documents. this is where the comparison both starts and ends i prommy but that photo of trumps bathroom with boxes and boxes of classified documents... a little different because naruto is still in office but i think he just has that stuff strewn about. and he doesn't do it out of malice or anything he just isn't thinking. like boruto accidentally took some classified document to school once because it ended up in his binder ... himawari drew pictures on the back of one.. something along those lines. generally i think he is actually good at his job but i think he can be kind of scatterbrained about it. i don't think he would actually get arrested for anything but if he did it'd be perhaps something like this

[calebvanponeisen]

My Unusual Christmas Kidnapping

At the end of my eighth Christmas Eve, I went to bed early like every other year. I remember that my parents always told me, “If you’re not asleep by half-past eight, you’ll get naught beneath the tree ornate.” And there’s no better deterrent than the thought of waking up with zero presents on Christmas.

There I was, nestled in the warmth of my cozy bed, dreaming of presents and candy canes, when a loud ‘thud’ woke me up. Another one followed. Gripped by fear, I hid beneath my covers. Thud. I had completely forgotten about Christmas. Thud. It had to be a burglar breaking in, which is why I dared not venture out of bed.

The door creaked open. I peeked through a small gap in my covers and saw several figures entering with a large bag. A flash of red caught my eye, and I immediately felt a wave of relief.

Tossing my covers aside, I yelled, “Santa!”

Next thing I knew, a large piece of fabric was thrown over me. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped. My breath hitched, and I was plunged into yet another slumber.

I awoke inside the bag. This time, it was loose, so I managed to wriggle around and find the light. I was inside a quaint, pastel rose room adorned with festive decorations. A few red and green boxes were scattered around, with a single red door at one end. With no other options to leave the room, I tiptoed towards the door and pressed my ear against it. Silence. I carefully turned the handle when a voice startled me.

“You can’t escape,” it shrilled. “Stay put.”

I spun around. A small man with pointed ears and a green outfit stood proudly akimbo. He was a little shorter than me but radiated authority.

“You’re an Elf!” I blurted out. “That means … I’m in Santa’s house! But- but why?”

“Ha!” he sneered. “You know very well why. You’ve been a terrible child and ended up on the naughty list.”

“I- what?” I couldn’t believe it. Me? On the naughty list? Had I really been that bad? Was it because of that one cookie I ate after mom told me not to? Or that night I secretly read comics in bed using a flashlight?

As I reflected on this past year’s behavior, I began to accept that I had indeed been a naughty boy, and it was only fair I ended up on the list.

Any attempts at conversing with the Elf were answered with a grunt. Minutes later, a metallic click unlocked the door, and the Elf shot me a nasty grin.

“Next,” yawned the Elf who entered the room.

“That’s you,” said the Elf in the same room as me. “Come on, follow him.”

The new Elf scowled at me when I hesitantly walked out. Although the place was warm, I felt a little exposed being barefoot and in pajamas. He led me through a long, vibrant hallway adorned with ornaments and paintings of reindeer. Something about the expressionist representation of the animals exuded malice. It gradually worsened the nearer we got to a comically large door at the end of the hall.

Looking up, I saw a glaring face painted on the door. It suddenly moved, baring yellow teeth with an air of disgust. “Last naughty boy of the day,” it announced.

The double doors unfurled, compelling me inside. I was greeted by a mahogany desk cluttered with documents, wrapping paper, and some broken toys. Behind it sat a bearded man in a festive red outfit.

“Santa Claus!” I cried out.

The man paused in his writing and peered down over the edge of his crescent-moon glasses.

“That is indeed me, yes,” he replied with a grandfatherly voice, sweet yet stern. “And you are -ah- Christopher. Yes, sit down, please.”

I obeyed. Santa leaned in and spoke in his commanding voice.

“Good. Now, Christopher, I see that you have been a naughty, naughty boy,” he continued, flipping through a binder. “And you know what happens with naughty boys, don’t you?” He waved a list with names. “Let’s see. What will we do with you, my poor, poor Christopher, boy.” He skimmed again, going back and forth.

A few seconds later, he continued with a loud, “Ah! Yes. You shall be an Elf from now on. Five years in the assembly line. For a start.”

My little jaw dropped, and my head tilted sideways. It was a lot to take in for an eight-year-old child.

“I don’t understand, Santa,” I managed to say.

“Oh, oh, oh! You’ll understand soon enough. Now off you go to Emgher. He’s the one who performs the magic.” Santa dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

“But, but… my name isn’t even Christopher, Santa. My name is James,” I protested.

Santa peered at me over his glasses again, a frown creasing his forehead. “You are not Christopher? Is that right?”

I nodded vehemently.

“Let me verify that,” he said.

Santa retrieved a red rotary phone from beneath his desk and dialed a number. He sounded calm, but I noticed his brows furrowing gradually.

Soon, an Elf scurried into the room.

“My deepest apologies, Mr. Claus,” the Elf squeaked with an overly deep bow. “I don’t know how it happened. We thought-“

Santa raised his hand, silencing the Elf.

“This boy,” Santa pointed at me, “is not Christopher?”

“No Mr. Claus. It’s all a mistake,” the Elf admitted sheepishly.

“Very well. To the wrappings with you,” Santa declared, and with a hand clap, the Elf vanished, leaving behind a look of horror that seemed to plead for… what exactly?

“My dear, dear, James,” Santa said as he rose from his leather chair and approached me. “I offer you my deepest apologies. Can you forgive me?”

Santa’s eyes were akin to a gentle grandfather and a dog yearning for more delicious treats.

“Of course,” I replied without hesitation. “How could I be angry at Santa Claus.” I felt so relieved I began to laugh.

“That’s very gracious of you, James,” Santa smiled. “Now, come with me. We need to send you back home.”

I followed the large, bearded man, walking through the same hall as before, except everything felt a lot more festive. Soon, Christmas songs began to resonate through the hall.

We arrived atop a vast hanger. My awe was indescribable. Hundreds of Elfs dressed in green with accents of red and gold were working relentlessly. From building presents to assembling boxes and applying beautiful Christmas wrappings. It was spectacular.

The topmost floor was full of Elfs playing all kinds of instruments, while the workers below joined in the chorus of Christmas carols. Who could’ve guessed that their shrill voices could become a melodic harmony?

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” I gasped.

“And you never will as long as you’re a good boy,” said Santa. “Come now. We must get you home.”

His words struck my mind like a splinter.

“Santa?” I asked. “What happens when you’re on the naughty list?”

“Ho, ho, ho, curious little boy, are we? I guess I do owe you an explanation. But you must first promise to never tell anyone,” Santa said, and I pinky swore. “Good boy.” He ruffled my hair.

“You see all those Elfs?” he said. “All of them, without exception, were once naughty boys and girls who ended up on the list.”

“Wh- kids become Elfs?” I exclaimed.

“Yes, they do,” Santa smiled gently. “Well, those who were on the normal naughty list.”

“There’s more than one list?”

“Oh yes. There are three. The naught list, which turns you into an Elf. The naughty naughty list, which changes you into a toy component, and the very naughty list, which transforms you into a box or wrapping,” he explained.

My jaw dropped for the second time that night. I couldn’t believe my ears.

“What? The toys and… and everything are kids?”

“Naughty children,” corrected Santa. “But yes, they are.”

I shuddered at the thought of becoming a toy, or worse, wrapping paper. All the toys I’d played with came to mind. Especially those I had thrown on the floor and destroyed for fun. Have I really been hurting other kids all those years?

It couldn’t be true. There weren’t enough naughty children to make all those toys. I had to ask Santa because I couldn’t do the math.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he laughed wholeheartedly. “With Christmas magic, you don’t need an entire child for a piece of wrapping. A small piece of a finger would suffice. One naughty child is enough for a thousand toys, or ten thousand Christmas wrappings.”

My voice trembled as I asked, “Do- do you cut their fingers off?”

Santa’s rosy cheeks and fluffy beard painted the picture of a jolly old man. “It’s best not to ask questions you’d rather not hear the answer to,” he advised, placing his heavy hand on my shoulder. “Come now, we must go.”

I reluctantly followed Santa. This hangar wasn’t the magical place I had imagined. It was a slaughterhouse, akin to animals butchering their own, constantly hoping that fatter livestock would be herded quickly enough so they wouldn’t be next on the chopping block.

We descended wooden stairs, with handrails resembling elongated Christmas trees full of life. Each stair glittered with a different color, just like baubles.

On the ground floor I noticed that no Elf was smiling even though they were singing. Some forced a smile when Santa walked by, others cowered away – one of them even bumped into me. What exactly had they done to deserve such a harsh punishment?

“How do you even get on the naughty list, Santa?”

Santa raised one of his fluffy white brows. “Why ask? You wish to become an Elf?”

“Er, no. It’s just that, you know, your Elfs mistook me for a naughty boy, and I remembered many bad things I did this past year,” I explained.

“I see,” he said, adjusting his spectacles. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you what naughty children do, James. If I did, a good boy like you could become a naughty boy. We don’t want that to happen, do we?” The intonation on the last two words sounded like a threat, so I simply nodded and followed the Claus.

We reached the end of the Hangar where several Elfs opened large, paired doors painted in red and marked with white initials “SC”. A glacial gust made me instantly shiver.

“Oh, ho,” Santa chuckled like the jolly old man he was. A finger snap was enough to cover me with warm boots, pants, a coat, a shawl, and a hat.

“Thanks, Santa,” I beamed. It was so comfortable inside that I had forgotten I was still barefoot and in pajamas. I wondered how he could snap fingers with gloves on, though.

“You’re very welcome, James, my boy,” said Santa. “Now, if you will excuse me, I still have much work to do. It’s Christmas after all. My Elfs will lead you to the reindeers so you can fly back home.”

I was so overwhelmed that I could only utter a small “thanks” before Santa wobbled back inside.

The Elfs guided me though the blizzard. We would’ve been in complete darkness if it weren’t for them.

They were glowing like green candles.

“Are you walking lamps?” I asked curiously.

One of the Elf looked at me crossly and sighed. He immediately averted eyes and marched on. Minutes later I began to quiver. Even Santa’s clothes couldn’t protect me from that cold.

“Wh-where are w-we g-g-going?” I stammered.

No answer.

“P-p-plea-ease. I-I’m co-old.”

Still nothing.

When I thought I’d never meet my parents again, we entered an ice cave. One of my guides knocked on a nearly imperceptible door in the back. I couldn’t believe my ears when he said, “Stinkin’ Santa’s Stupid Selfish”.

The door popped open, and a female Elf hurried us in. Once inside, the door slammed shut and vanished completely.

“Woah,” I gasped, not only at the door, but also at the room I was in.

You know that satisfying feeling when you return to the warmth of your home after spending hours playing in the snow? It was the same feeling, except it was soothing, lulling even. Every part of my body had magically warmed up, and Santa’s clothes tattered away in a sparkle of glitter dust. I was yet again barefoot and in my pajamas.

Dozens of Elfs were sitting, reading, playing, some working. That room was the true heart of Christmas. The smell of cookies and hot chocolate was delectable. Ornated trees, music to melt the coldest hearts, and a green-purple flamed hearth. With so much festive clutter around, it was a miracle nothing went ablaze.

“Amazing,” I uttered, gaping and smiling so widely it hurt.

“Yes, yes, you don’t have time for this,” one of the Elfs said. “Give me the talisman.”

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her hand in my pajama’s pocket.

“Hey, what are you– What’s that thing?”

She had taken a small ceramic Christmas ornament that looked like a present. Red letters glowed on the side.

“Our ticket to freedom and exposing Santa. Once we open it in your world, our revenge will be complete and cause widespread panic,” she explained as she dragged me to the top of a chimney protruding from the floor.

“Wait, I–“

“Your house has a chimney?” she asked.

“N-no,” I said. “What’s this thing? Does it lead to the reindeers?”

“Ha!” she snarked. “Those child-eating monsters, you mean?”

I looked at the others, hoping someone would drag me away from this crazy girl, but they simply stared back.

“What do you mean? What’s the chimney for?”

“It’s to deliver presents,” she said. “You go in, and it sends you to the home you wish to visit. It also makes you fireproof.”

“So that’s how Santa delivers presents!”

She shook her head. “No, silly. That’s one of the ways. You don’t have a chimney, remember?

Chimneyless homes require the Sleigh. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, yes it does,” I erupted in laughter. “How do you even go around every house with so many presents?”

“Look, we don’t have time to–”

“Just tell him, Zoe,” another Elf chimed in from the back.

Zoe gave him a nasty grimace and ordered me to sit near one of the tables. “That’s all I’m answering, ok?” she warned. “After that, you listen because we have to go.”

I opened my mouth to protest. She quickly made a sign to zip it, and my mouth was zipped close. I stood up panicked, touching the zipper that had become my mouth. There was no slider.

“Elf magic. I’ll unzip it if you settle down, sit, and listen, ok?” Zoe said irritably. I darted around. The other Elfs were calm, so I relaxed and heeded.

“Good,” she said. “Firstly, we’re in another world deep underneath the North Pole. When Christmas starts, every second that passes in Clausland equals to one day in your world. The Sleigh transports us to chimneyless houses, and Elf magic lets us in. When we’re in your world, time is almost frozen in place for us. Got that?”

I nodded, but she didn’t unzip my mouth yet.

“Good,” she nodded like a teacher after scolding a bad student. “Onto the reindeer. Those monsters solely exist to devour extra naughty children and unruly Elfs. Gruesome death I would wish to no one but to Santa.” She unzipped my mouth and smirked. “Questions?”

“Er,” I hesitated, reluctant to have my mouth shut again. “Is Santa–”

“Yes,” she blurted out. “He’s evil. That’s all you need to know – for your own sanity. Now, take these.” She handed me polar clothes. “And this. We have a long way to walk.”

“Why do I need a long sugar cane?”

“It’s a magical sword. Hope you won’t need to use it.”

We were about to leave the room when I dared to say, “I’ll freeze to death if we walk too far. I almost–”

“Died because Santa purposefully gave you magical clothes that look warm, yet retain no heat,” she interrupted. “He always does that to spare his reindeer a lengthy chase for their meal. Let’s go.”

I returned to the blizzard. This time I was surrounded by many Elfs, Zoe in front. All wielded a long sugarcane and a rectangular shield resembling a Christmas present.

We walked and walked, but not once did I feel cold. Even my face seemed magically shielded. I was about to thank Zoe when a horrible cry resonated from behind. An Elf was missing.

“Run!” Zoe shouted.

We hurried into the void. Another scream to my left. A quick glance revealed thin gnarled hands with countless fingers grabbing one of the Elfs into the nothingness of the storm.

“Aaaah!”

Another Elf had been taken, this time right in front of me. The Elfs rushed to his rescue, stabbing and cutting with their sugar canes. I cowardly hid between two Elfs.

A horrible screech followed by something landing at my feet. I jumped when I saw… a bleeding branch? Two Elfs were thrashing a snowman. Purple blood oozed from its wounds until it gargled and melted completely, leaving a black hat and a carrot behind.

Zoe yanked my arm, leading me ahead. We passed the body of an Elf, whose face was unrecognizable.

“Isah, Brendan, cover for us,” she shouted over the howling wind. The voices of the two forsaken Elfs became one with the blizzard.

Every so often, I dared to peak over my shoulder, trying to discern the snowmen’s needle-toothed grin through the storm. If they were nearby, I couldn’t identify them amidst the noise akin to an old television’s static noise.

“We’re at the Grim Grotto,” said Zoe.

We entered another ice cave. Zoe chanted in an unfamiliar language, causing a sudden gravelly noise. A wall jutted out of the ground and shut the entrance close. There was no way out. Complete silence. I felt cut off from the rest of the world, even more than before.

“Where are we?” I puffed, tired from the long trek.

“Don’t you have ears, silly?” Zoe wheezed. “It’s the Grim Grotto. We’re near the Subsidiary Sleigh. The other ones are in a room we can’t access without Santa knowing.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Zoe noticed.

“That was the easy part,” she scowled. “Remember the reindeer? They’re guarding the Sleigh, and it won’t be easy to reach. Break’s over. Stand up. The snowmen might alert Santa.”

“What were those things?” I asked.

“You’ve seen them. Abominations. Created by Santa himself to patrol the boundaries. Lucky we didn’t meet the Snow Angels or we’d all be dead.”

Zoe seemed to be out of breath each time she spoke. I soon realized why.

“You’re bleeding,” I blurted.

“Oh, you’ve finally figured out this isn’t part of my festive outfit?”

“You need a doctor,” I said naively.

“That’s not how things work here. The only one capable of healing us is Santa, and he won’t budge for me, that’s certain. Either it’s a superficial wound and I’ll be fine, or it’s not and I’ll bleed out. But now is not the time to worry, we must get you back home.”

She zipped my mouth again. I protested with… unrefined hand signs, which were duly ignored. I wasn’t angry, just frustrated I couldn’t help the little girl.

The grotto’s unexpected brightness guided us around. It resembled dim sun rays piercing through a thick layer of ice. Zoe seemed to know her way in this labyrinth of forking tunnels.

We arrived at yet another fork. A nauseous mixture of bad breath, rot and manure made me feel sick. I tried to speak but all it accomplished was a muffled mumble.

“Is it important?” hissed Zoe. I nodded and she released the zipper.

“What’s that smell?” I asked.

“The reindeer,” she said. “They’re near.”

She entered the tunnel with the pungent odor, followed by the unconcerned Elfs. I looked back, thinking of returning to the entrance. Then I remembered the flesh-eating snowmen, and thought I’d rather take my chances with the unknown that lay ahead.

Zoe stopped behind a boulder, signaling me to approach. The tunnel had expanded into a large cave.

“Shush now. Look,” she gestured at something far below.

I spotted a magnificent sleigh. It would fit the exact description of “Santa’s sleigh”. She noticed my awe and nudged me, pointing towards something else nearby. It was a reindeer. And another one. Then a few more. At least a dozen of them, surrounded by many bones.

“What now?” I asked.

“We climb down the stairs.”

The ‘stairs’ she spoke of was a narrow and sharply steep path down the precipice.

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights?” she smiled.

Zoe went first, followed by the other Elfs. I was paralyzed by fear, convinced that I’d slip and fall to my death.

“Want me to shove you off?” the last Elf smirked. “Maybe you’ll grow wings before the big splatter.”

Being pushed forward, I descended one step at a time, clutching onto the rocks to my right. A dozen or so steps later, I became a bit more comfortable and progressed a little faster.

Near the bottom was a landing carved inside the cliffside. It was a good vantage point to observe the Sleigh in all its glory, guarded by the ferocious reindeer, who were trotting aimlessly, fighting each other, even wounding one another. Worst of all, their injuries healed almost instantly.

One stood by, anticipating another reindeer’s charge. When the assailant was close, both their mouths expanded significantly, exposing rows of jagged, pointed teeth. Their entire bodies grew into a veinous mass of muscles, fighting antlers and hooves.

“You think we’ll make it?” one of the Elfs asked Zoe.

“Bad timing for cowardice, Kevin. There’s only one way out,” answered Zoe.

Looking at Kevin was like seeing myself in the mirror. I found it weird that an Elf would be scared, until I remembered he was a child, just like me.

“What’s next?” another female Elf asked.

Zoe glanced at me before she said, “We stick to the plan. I go first, followed by James, then you, Kevin, and the rest. When I say ‘run’, we sprint to the Sleigh.”

Everyone agreed. Zoe went first, and Kevin pushed me forward. We carefully made our way down the stairs, brandishing weapons and shields. Zoe’s was fingering something in her pocket, her candy cane sheathed.

The instant her curled shoe touched the ground, every reindeer swiveled their head towards us, like a missile locked on its target. Zoe pulled her hand from her pocket and threw mistletoe berries far ahead, yelling, “RUN!”

Every reindeer clomped in our direction, each stride dislodging stones from the ground. No way any of us could get to the Sleigh. Those things were supernaturally fast.

One of them touched one of the red berries. Bang! The reindeer was startled as the berry abruptly expanded like a rising tablecloth, capturing the animal, and sealing it with a green ribbon.

The other beasts stopped in their tracks as they observed the red bag bulging from every angle, hearing a muffled screech coming from within. I was so stunned by what had happened that my feet were rooted in place. The other Elfs weren’t, though. Zoe had arrived near the Sleigh, frantically hitting an invisible wall with her candy cane.

I got back to my senses and ran. So did the reindeer. From behind, I heard bang after bang, but the sound of hooves was rapidly approaching. I peeked over my shoulder for one second and saw one’s mouth in all its glory. It was far worse than the snowmen.

My feet kept moving but I closed my eyes because I knew I was dead. My own stupidity is what saved me; I stumbled on a rock and fell, the reindeer jumping over me to maul the Elf ahead of me. I leapt up and passed the gruesome scene, crying, screaming. Most other Elfs were frantically bashing the wall when a shattering sound told me they got through.

Next thing I knew, Zoe kicked Kevin toward one of the reindeer and rushed to the Sleigh. His last moments were too horrible to describe.

I kept running, trying to ignore the bangs and the reindeers galloping like mad. Two more Elfs were holding the beasts at large by shooting baubles from their candy canes. I didn’t even know they could do that, but it was pretty efficient. Each bauble shattered into clouds of glitter, electrocuting the reindeer as the smoke came down.

Meanwhile, Zoe was already in the Sleigh, handling something.

“Don’t leave without us,” a girl Elf shouted. That moment of inattention had cost her life.

I took my candy cane by the rounded handle and pretended it was a gun. Baubles shot from its end, hitting the reindeer in front of me, clearing the passage. I fired a volley of baubles behind me, partially incapacitating the pursuing monsters.

Only one other Elf remained. He slowly backed away, struggling to keep the biggest reindeer down.

“Stop,” Thump! “getting,” Thump! “up,” Thump! “you,” Thump! “piece of,” Thump! Thump!

His left side was clear. I sprinted past the convulsing reindeer and hopped onto the Sleigh, only to be pushed back by Zoe.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

When I looked up, she looked like a maniac.

“Empty. I gotta go,” the shooting Elf said, leaving his weapon behind as he jumped into the Sleigh.

I tried to reenter, but she repelled me with such force that my elbow broke as I shielded my fall. I gripped my broken arm, crying. Zoe stared and laughed. The Sleigh began to glow bright red.

“There’s a reason I was on the naughty list, silly,” she grinned. “Enjoy Christmas hell, James.”

Before I could get up, the Sleigh had vanished in a flash of red. I immediately turned to my left to see… no reindeer. They were also gone. The only thing remaining on the ground was a glowing red cube.

“The present!” I gasped, pocketing the small ceramic ornament, and stood up. I had completely forgotten about it.

Behind the Sleigh’s former location was a nearly imperceptible door. I turned the handle and entered, only to discover another sleigh made of wood. It was simple, aged, but slightly damaged. I clambered in and found a washed out set of instructions, barely legible.

HOW TO USE

Sit tight.

Pronounce the place name out loud and clearly.

Close eyes.

Open eyes when hearing jingle.

A crashing jingle echoed from beyond the room. Through the open door, I barely recognized the Sleigh that had returned. It was cracked and toppled over, covered in gore with two reindeer feasting on… I didn’t want to think about it.

“I want to go back home,” I sobbed.

One of the reindeer hurtled through the doorway. I instinctively closed my eyes. Next thing I knew, I heard a jingle and peeped through my eyelashes.

“Home!” I cried, jumping out of the sleigh.

I looked around, incredulous. Snow graced the ground without blizzard, meat-eating snowman, or monstrous reindeer. I tried to enter, but I was locked out. Of course, I was. Everyone was fast asleep inside.

I shivered as I ran down the side path. My warm clothes had disappeared. All that remained was my good old pajamas.

Using my left hand, I opened the toilet window. Mom always left it unlocked in case someone forgot the keys. I was too short to climb through, but luckily, there was a small stepladder in the garden. I squeezed in and crashed down. Excruciating pain surged from my fractured elbow.

Lights flashed on, and I screamed, not from pain, but from fear. Fear that another Elf had returned to drag me back to Clausland. When the toilet door opened, and mom and dad’s familiar faces loomed above me, warm tears streamed down my cheeks.

Seven weeks later, I was completely healed. My injury was in fact a hairline fracture. Mom and dad had been livid that I’d been ‘playing’ outside in the middle of the night. It goes without saying that they didn’t believe a word of my grisly experience.

We went to the ER and returned home after sunrise. Although my parents were angry, they let me open my presents before tucking me in my safe haven. I can’t recall what I received that day, but what I do remember is that I didn’t rip off the Christmas wrapping like I did every year. Instead, I delicately unfolded it without leaving a single tear, and stored them in a drawer. The piles I accumulated over the years still remain at my current home.

Of the toys I took utmost care. Even though Zoe had shown her true colors at the end, I can’t imagine that every naughty kid was as bad as her. Even she didn’t deserve to go that way.

I must admit that imagining children’s remains as toys was strange at first. As for everything, you get used to it. Except for one thing. Every Christmas, even as an adult, I stay awake or party till dawn, fearing an Elf might bring me back. It marked me so much that I decided not to have any children in case the Claus awaits his revenge – if he ever found out.

As for the ceramic ornament, I never opened it. Something rattles inside, and when Christmas nears, bright red letters appear, forming “SLU CA NATAS”. I never found out its meaning, but I vividly remember what Zoe said. Whatever that revenge may be, this little Pandora’s Box will remain sealed for years to come.

[shadows-haunt-angels]

Teach me Cruelty, O Lord

That I may bolster my open’d heart

And close th’ weeping eye.

Purify me, oh Lord of Pain,

And in doing so bind me closer.

Your flensing blade sings to me, Kin Binder,

Cut free this worldly skin, and bestow upon me th’ cloak of callousness.

Rend my bones, oh King of Stitches,

and replace them with the Iron of Indifference,

that none may shake my spirit save you.

Take my ichor, and join it in the glorious Fountain, so that I might achieve Unity in Blood.

Breathe screams into my lungs, Last Breath Comforter,

So that I might sing you the song of a thousand million men

Under humanity’s conjoined flesh, writhing in similarity.

Deafen mine ears, oh Siren of the End,

That I may not hear the Empathy of Pain in all it’s horrific Glory,

Ringing in the brains of we chattel so innumerable as water in the seas.

Cut out mine tongue, Scribe of Names,

That I might choke on lies and truth in equal manner

Silence and mercy sewn into my lips, spite and malice brewing in my throat.

Take my hands, oh Crawling Spider Lord,

And replace them with your unbother’d chitin,

That I might only do your work, weave your Webs in glorious solitude.

Eat my heart, oh Death,

And with it slay the very fear of you,

Whose silence brings multitudes

And unites the masses in perpetuity.

[magpiejay1234]

Today's Twitter reveal, the final new card for Crossover Breakers, and the final card overall for the set is Malice Queen White Binder, a LINK-3 DARK Cyberse with 2300 ATK.

Next week should be the Blue-Eyes Structure Deck.

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay but seriously this'd be a GREAT little character arc for them both.

Like sqh is having his god complex guilt/I can fix at least one thing moment and Sqq is having to deal with his super shady shidi suddenly stalwartly defending him. He'd be SO suspicious. He'd be convinced sqh is planning an even bigger fall, throw him under the bus for something, some long term vengeance plan/disposing of the sects strategist.

So he's being as openly and deeply unhelpful as possible. Like straight up trying to sabotage sqh.

But sqh isn't even asking him about what happened. And yet he KNOWS things. He's just working on gathering evidence and any unbiased witness possible, he's not even listening to sqq's lies and aggravating.

Sqh is throwing side eyes at Yqy for somehow managing to be worse than useless and just grinding everyone's gears even if he is genuinely trying his hardest, but he doesn't trust sqh fully on this either.

Possibly an assassination attempt by qht/huan hua before he can get to trial, but sqh manages to survive with the secret help of meta knowledge (and his ice king).

But when they get to the stand Sqq is oozing poison and malice and generally looking the very image of an unrepentant murderer, and sqh is flipping open his giant ring binder because he's actually gotten really invested and it's His Time To Shine. He's got evidence, he's got witnesses, he's got ex disciples, he's got blackmail, he's got bribery; he's got the wealth of meta knowledge and baby the exchange rate is in his favour.

And Sqq is cleared of all charges.

Probably tries to kill sqh as soon as they leave the room but hey you can't win them all.

Yqy is droning on about deeply indebted shixiongs etc etc and sqh, high on success and adrenaline and Defend Shen Jiu, immediately follows it up with 'well then tell your brother how warm the ashes were when you came back' and whoops.

I’ve been seeing people claim that Shen Jiu needed a lawyer at his trial but honestly SJ would be the worst client. He doesn’t ever explain himself, not even to Yue Qingyuan, and he refuses to make himself look better to appeal to others. He’s rude and snide, but clams up when confronted. Trying to get information out of him would be like pulling teeth, even if it was to save him. SJ has already decided the world thinks him guilty, he’s not going to debase himself by begging for an outcome that will never come. You ask him what happened with Liu Qingge and he’d be like ‘That stupid brute dug his own grave’ and refuse to elaborate. He’d make his lawyer cry is what I’m saying.

[lynxindisguise]

hi lynx! 18 and 22 for the ask game! xx

hi claude!!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it. How it changed from start to end.

Ooooh it's so hard to choose! So this is one of my favourite moments in Please Don't See Me.

Remus studies the old, Gothic fountain as he blindly feels his way through sentences. “Earlier, you asked me what my world is, and I guess… most of the time I feel like I don’t really have one. Here, I feel like an imposter, with hedges, I feel like this weird Wizarding Society reject, with non-magical people... I feel like a freak. Or a monster.”

“You’re not a monster!” Sirius objects, a knee-jerk reaction. “Or any of those other things!” he adds quickly as Remus laughs.

“What I mean is… every version of me feels a bit… fake. And when I try to figure out who I am underneath it all, I… I don’t know...”

Sirius thinks for a moment. “What if they’re all real?” he asks finally. “What if you can be many different things, and even if they don’t fit together or make sense as a whole, that doesn’t mean they’re not you.”

Remus, of course, doesn’t know that Sirius isn’t actually talking about him—at least not entirely.

And most people—but Remus, especially—tend to be much harsher on themselves than they’d ever be on somewhere else.

“I don’t know… It seems like a slippery slope, sectioning off parts of yourself like that. Like you could just shove all the bad stuff into one part just so you can trick everyone into believing you’re a good person… trick yourself even…”

He thinks he’s calling himself out on his tendency to attribute all the darkest parts of himself to the wolf, when in reality, the wolf only acts on instinct; it’s the human part of himself who acts from a place of hurt, spite, malice. It’s the human who’s selfish, who deceives people, who overcomplicates everything.

He thinks being critical of himself will stop him from hurting people, but it’s this very criticism that quite literally slices Sirius in two.

I don't think I'd really planned this scene beforehand. For some context, Sirius has been keeping a secret that he's about to reveal, and I knew I needed Remus to say something that would make that revelation no longer feel safe.

But of course Remus isn't going to be directly cruel to Sirius (I mean maybe in the heat of a fight, but not in this moment). He is, on the other hand, often cruel to himself.

And it really got me thinking about how being too self-critical can not only be damaging to you but to the people around you. And to me, the crux of wolfstar is two characters sharing this existential fear about the darkness at their core. It what draws them together, but it's also one of their biggest pitfalls because they sort of need to accept their own darkness to accept each other's.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

I used to be far more organised than I am now, and I would plan everything out in notebooks. It was intensely satisfying, but as I've gotten more confident in my writing, I've moved from a plotting to a planting style, so I tend to just have a vague idea of what's going to happen in my head, and then I see what unfolds on the page.

I do still love using notebooks in theory, but honestly, if there's any research or world-building info that I need to have on hand, I'll just throw it at the bottom of the same Word doc I'm writing in. Or I'll pop a few stray thoughts in my notes app.

Weird Questions for Writers