#needing to correct for confusion on your participants end to get the results you want

[selfindulgentcompetition]

TRYING AGAIN WITH CLEARER WORDING. PLS READ BEFORE VOTING

*Meaning: When did you stop wearing a mask to a majority of your public activities? Wearing a mask when you feel sick or very rarely for specific events/reasons counts as “stopping”

[More Questions Here]

[markerofthemidnight]

Blinding Eclipse - A CCCC Oneshot (Prompt: Fluff)

Yesterday’s poll sure was a thing, so I wrote this in 24 hours!

I don’t have the attention span to go through all the trouble of making a new fic and beta-reading it myself for now, so I’ll just keep this and the second one on Tumblr for now, then post them to AO3 once all three are done!

(Honestly kinda worried about this? The last time I wrote a oneshot about two weirdos who don’t like each other having an awkward conversation that results in them understanding each other better, and ends in them hanging out and being dorks, it was a fic that I now rather infamously don’t like and will probably put me off writing gift fics for a year. Anyways, here it is:)

Blinding Eclipse

After a particularly nasty fight, Heart gives Mind the time to recover from his injuries by (against his will) sheltering him in his room. By the time the conversation ends, he might understand the emotional side a bit more.

***

A short hum echoed through the dark room followed by a dim blue light, as the android’s systems restarted following a rather… forceful shutdown of them.

He groaned, grabbing his temples. For him to pass out during a fight with Heart was rare: he must have been especially aggressive today for some reason. Where was he now?…

“Hiiiii.”

Oh, goddamit.

He looked up to see a certain avian asshole staring at him with… probably not the smuggest look he’d ever seen on his face, but it was definitely in the top five. It took him a bit to realise… he was lying in his room, in his bed… and had been using his chest as a pillow while he was asleep.

“…Get the hell off me.”

Heart smiled in response. “Technically, ‘Mister’ Mind, you’re the one on top of me. And you’re still not the boss of me. You’re only leaving when I let you leave.”

Mind narrowed his eyes. We’ll see about that, then. When he turned around, trying to wrestle his way out of his grip, he realised- oh fuck. Fuck, he had his wings wrapped around him, this asshole had this planned to a tee.

He shifted uncomfortably in his grip, something Heart clearly noticed as his wings tightened. “C’mon, I had to. I had a, like, 200-and-something-pound robot lying directly on top of me: they would’ve gotten crushed if I didn’t.”

He was absolutely not 200 pounds, but he wasn’t in the mood to correct him over something so trivial right now. Rather… “You carried me all the way here?”

“Yeah. I’m stronger than I look, you know? Turns out, getting into fistfights with a robot on a daily basis does wonders for your muscles,” he gloated.

“No, that’s not- I mean, why?” The android raised a non-existent eyebrow, glaring in confusion at his other half. “You were literally just trying to kill me. Why bother dragging me here when all it would likely do is start another fight?”

“Wanted to make sure Soul doesn’t find out when he comes back,” Heart simply replied. “I needed to make sure you recovered quick, and make you promise you wouldn’t tell.”

“And why would I ever do that?”

“If he finds out, we’ll probably both get punished. He blames us both for the fighting, you know. And besides… don’t you think we should at least try to get along? Just this once, for Soul?”

After he said that… he stopped, and thought for a second. That… sounded about right. Recently, he’d noticed Soul had stopped caring about who started the fights: the way he saw things, if they both participated in the fights, they both deserved punishment.

…Goddamit, Heart was actually making sense right now.

Mind didn’t feel like getting disemboweled- or… whatever the robot equivalent was- today. He was still aching from faux pain from the previous fight right now, as a matter of fact.

“…Fine. I’ll play along with this game. I promise not to tell Soul.” He gave in, sighing. “Well? Now let me go.”

The avian stopped at that. He winced, and hesitantly shook his head. “Not yet. Your legs still feel pretty banged up.”

Now, that came as no surprise to Mind. His legs still hurt like hell- though it wasn’t too big of a deal considering he, unlike most androids, had his own healing factor. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, like most things in the Headspace, but it definitely came in handy often.

Not to mention, it was common knowledge by now that Heart had empathy that bordered on superpowers: all he had to do was touch you, and he’d understand exactly what you were feeling in the moment. Not just your emotions, but physical sensations too, so it was no wonder he’d be able to tell so easily.

Still, he really didn’t feel like staying here for too long. So as uncomfortable as he was, he grumbled and laid his head down on his other half’s chest, to which he smiled and held him closer.

They were sitting like that for a short while. One wallowing in his own shame and embarrassment that he needed Heart’s help, the other simply enjoying the peace he could get with his pseudo-brother.

The Moon stroke his hair, sighing as he broke the silence. “And besides, this is your chance to ask questions. There’s still a lot you want to learn about me, right?”

The Sun didn’t reply, simply nodding. “Well, go ahead. Anything you want- that won’t piss me off- ask away.”

He thought for a second. Well, now he was mentioning it, there were a few things on his mind… “How are you so perceptive?”

“Because I have ears?”

“No- well, yes, but that’s not what I mean. I’ve seen how precise you can be at times. Mid-flight, you always seem to know exactly what you’re targeting and where it is, even if hearing alone shouldn’t be able to help you,” he elaborated.

Heart tilted his head, trying to consider his answer. “It’s kinda hard to describe- I think it’s just… intuition. I just know where my target is immediately, even in the heat of the moment.”

Well, that didn’t help at all. Leave it to the stupid asshole to give a stupid answer.

“That’s the way it feels while flying, anyway. Normally, it relies more on muscle memory and hearing.” He looked away from the Sun at that, with a melancholy smile on his face. “When you lose one of your main senses… you have to learn to adapt.”

He couldn’t help but be intrigued by that, for that smile was so obviously pained that even Mind, who admittedly wasn’t very perceptive when it came to feelings or “reading the room” as the others called it, could notice. “…Do you ever miss it?”

“Kinda?” Came his instant response, as if the blind man was expecting him to ask that. “Like, you know how much I hated it at first. I didn’t know how I could live without sight, but then I forced myself to adapt and… now I see it’s not so bad. Well, it is bad, but I got over it.”

And then, his smile disappeared. “Really, the worst part is the memories. Everything from before I got blinded seems so far away, and I’m trying to hold onto them, but… hell, I barely even remember what you two look like, let alone anything else.”

Heart sniffled, before sighing and internally suppressing the pain. His grip on Mind tightened as he pulled him into a pseudo-hug… and, intentionally or not, began smothering him in his chest’s violet fur. The faint scent of lavender permeated his nostrils as his muffled scream of protest went unnoticed by his fluffy kidnapper.

Seconds after, the grip loosened, at least giving him some room to breathe. He reflexively gasped for air despite not needing it, and sighed. “S-sorry,” his other half sheepishly replied, “Might’ve forgotten how hard I was hugging…”

“See, this is why I call him a creature,” he groaned to himself, “Not because he acts like one, but because his anatomy makes no sense.”

Heart hummed in confusion, tilting his head at that. Mind blinked for a second before elaborating, “Come on, you must know what I mean. All you need is decently-sized wings and you can fly despite a lack of streamlining and flight muscles. Your neck works like an owl’s. You used to hoard shiny objects, I’ve heard you make bird noises on multiple occasions, you- you smell like lavender, for fuck’s sake!”

The Moon continued to stare for a few seconds before simply shrugging, “What’s wrong with lavender?”

“It’s fucking unnatural, that’s what! Humans don’t smell like plants, and neither do animals- it’s just… how are you so satisfied with living as this, when you know you’re supposed to be human?!” He snapped.

Admittedly… Mind let a lot more of his insecurities show just now than he would have liked. Then again, Heart was perfectly aware of said insecurities, so he wasn’t too shaken up. He was staring at him with an empathetic gaze as he finished, and simply turned to the ceiling. “I dunno. Maybe I just find this more… exciting? The flight’s fun, and my wings look really pretty… or used to, but the point is, it’s a lot more interesting than just being a regular person, don’t you think?”

Well, what was wrong with being regular? It wasn’t his fault the boy lacked an attention span and thus thought “order and logic” meant “depressing and bleak”. He should hate being the way he is, just like how the Sun wants to be human again: because being a robot is confusing, frightening and just plain wrong whereas anyone with a working brain knows how being a human works.

Heart should hate being some kind of weird, furry bird-person-creature for the same reasons. After all, it’s not like there were any practical applications that came from some of your limbs catching on fire depending on your emotions.

As he was lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Heart had let go of his grip, still staring at the ceiling. His foot tapped against the side of his bed a few times before he clicked his tongue and turned to him. “You know what?”

Mind raised an eyebrow and sat up, his other half doing the same as he continued. “I think your problem is that you’re so uncomfortable with being a robot that you only see its downsides, and ignore all the good parts.”

He narrowed his eyes, stuttering. “G… good- there is no ‘good’ parts, dumbass. I barely resemble everything I used to be, and as time passes all it does is make me look more like a… a-“

“-Monster?” He interrupted. “That’s what you want to say, isn’t it? It’s how you see yourself. You try to hide it, but it’s still there. Well, think again: after all, I’d say only needing to sleep once a week is a pretty big perk for someone as workaholic as you.”

He stopped at that. He opened his mouth to retort, but felt it slowly closing soon after. That wasn’t exactly… incorrect… he did appreciate that, at least.

“See?” Heart smiled, tilting his head. “I know that silence! You do like that, don’t you? And then there’s your healing facto…” he trailed off before, suddenly, leaping off the bed. “Oh crap, right, your legs! A-are you okay? Can you walk now?”

He, too, had almost forgotten his legs were damaged before this moment. Regardless, he took a few seconds getting off the bed, slightly shaking as he stood up. “…Not perfectly, but I’ll manage just fine. Thank you, Heart.”

Consumed by his thoughts, he likely didn’t even notice that he was thanking him, and if he did, he had no idea exactly what for. Either way, as he took his first slow steps towards the door, the avian once again wrapped his arm around him, forcing him to lean on his shoulder. “Not so fast. I’m not taking any chances with how badly they were banged up before.”

With that, he began borderline carrying the android back to his room. He wanted to complain about this, but… he didn’t.

“We should do this more often, you know,” he smiled. “This is the first time we’ve been able to have a normal conversation in months.”

“Yes. This was… quite satisfactory,” he hesitantly replied. Crap, how should he have worded that?

“Can we hang out again later too? I know walking in to see us getting along for once would really startle Soul!~” the emotional side playfully quipped. “What was that game you were playing earlier? The one you decided to restart cause you… weren’t satisfied with your last run, or something?”

“Lobotomy Corpora-… wait, how do you know about that?!”

“These walls aren’t exactly soundproof, y’know,” he teased. “No, seriously, your little mutterings while playing that’re probably the most emotion I’ve ever heard from you! It sounds like fun!”

——

Another day, another argument.

That was what Soul was expecting to see, anyways, as he materialised back into the Headspace for tonight, only to be met with silence… mostly.

He could hear voices. Distant and quiet, but they were there. As he followed the trail, he realised they were coming from Mind’s room. Huh. Weird of Heart to willingly enter Mind’s room, and they were being so passive as well… what was going on there?

He opened the door expecting to see… anything, really, only to do a double take as he saw what was probably the least likely scenario he could imagine.

Heart, sitting down on one of his little bean bags, was listening intently to an oddly calm Mind as he sat at his computer, taking the time to carefully and even somewhat happily explain the details of some game he was playing to him.

What. The fuck. Was he watching.

Was… was this real? He’s not just, like, hallucinating Heart and Mind getting along, right?! This was actually happening? Being Whole again was a possibility even without his help?!

Regardless, as he opened the door, Heart heard the creaking and turned to the opposite corner of the room, knowing who it must be.

“…so even if Penitence’s defences seem better at first glance, since this is one class higher it’s actually the superior-“ Mind was cut off by his other half tapping his shoulder and pointing to Soul. He looked at him for a few seconds before quipping, “How is it that you look even crazier now than you do when you’re stabbing us?”

…The ruler slowly closed the door, not knowing how else to react. What was that. How did that happen. How did they will themselves into getting along so easily, he could hear Heart giggling like a madman from behind the door like he thought this earth-shattering revelation was funny, oh my god he needed some time to think.

***

Soul would later go on to sit in the kitchen slowly drinking a Monster for ten minutes, all with this disbelieving smile on his face, before going to “supervise” them (really he just wants in on the fun).

Well, aforementioned anxiety aside, I liked writing this! Establishing that Heart makes bird noises as well as his lavender chest floomf, and projecting my Lobotomy Corp liker onto Mind was really fun!

Expect Mind’s instalment, its prompt being Self-Discovery, to come out soon. Or maybe not, after all DoaI Vol. 1 comes out tomorrow so I may be a bit busy.

[therealvinelle]

Ok I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm just now copying your Norwegian Bella AU into a text translator, and if you don't already have 50 people in your inbox demanding a translation then shame on ALL OF US because this is glorious! And while Google Translate does have a certain charm (it translated "piper hun ut" as "she beeps") I'm curious to see how you'd put it in English.

Troquantary is referring to this post. In which Bella doesn't speak English.

Fun fact, you're the only one who's gone into my inbox to request this. I was so sad, had the translation half-written and everything, but I was too proud to beg. So thank you, Troquantary, for popping this ask.

As for the dictionary fuckups, sounds about right. I made a few typos, too, that made Google Translate suffer even more. (Such as managing to mix up "henne" (her) and "hendene" (hands), resulting in Aro patting Bella instead of clapping his hands. Poor Google.)

Also, there are a few cultural references and language things that would be lost in the translation, in an attempt to keep them I included notes clarifying things.

Some things, like Aro and Carlisle's very old man way of speaking, are easier said than done to translate, you'll have to bear with me there.

Additional notes are that I added a few things to this version, many of them because translating is hard, but a few because while translating I thought "oh you know what would be much funnier-" and then wrote that.

Alright, without further ado:

When Renée left Charlie she did not go to Florida, she went to Oslo. And she went all in to make her daughter a true Norwegian, hiring Norwegian nannies and making sure never to speak English around the child. Since transatlantic flights are expensive, little Bella Swan rarely got to visit her father, and as such she never did learn what should have been her native language.

She quickly forgot what English she did have in favor of Norwegian, with the exception of words like “Yes”, “No”, and “I’m Bella”.

The few trips she took to visit her father were all the more awkward than in canon since she couldn’t play with the Black kids. Let not the blame fall upon Charlie: he took Norwegian classes and speaks conversational Norwegian. He can’t speak to Renée, because her Norwenglish is incomprehensible even to Norwegians, but he can communicate with Bella.

Not that he’s had a lot of chances to do so.

Bella makes it to seventeen years old, she’s in second grade at Handels* and is a major outsider among the preps there, and then Renée marries a handsome skier**. Together they shall travel the continent all winter to participate in as many skiing races as they can, and in the summer they’ll take gigs at Hurtigruta to see the coast.

*“Handels” is the nickname for an Oslo high school infamous for its pupils being rich and beautiful blonds who are going to be CEOs when they grow up.

**Skiing as a sport is huge in Norway

***Hurtigruta is a famous ferry that travels across the Norwegian West coast

Bella, who sucks at skiing and is too young to work at Hurtigruten, takes the hint.

With dread in her stomach and dictionary in hand she goes to her father in America.

Where she doesn’t speak the language.

Faen.

Charlie gives her a car, and I wish this meta was set in the present because I could have joked about electric cars and the automat only driver’s license*, but Twilight is set in 2005 so I can’t. The car part proceeds without drama.

*An increasing number of Norwegian youth take the driver’s license for automatic cars only, and we’re the country in the world with the highest percentage of electric car purchases.

School is worse than in canon, because she is now a thousand times more sensational than if she was merely the new student. She is from another country! All of Forks keels over with excitement.

To make matters even worse, our girl doesn’t understand a word of what people are saying.

She is too awkward to let them know she doesn’t know English. It’d become a thing, and they might think she’s dumb. To be fair, it’s not good that she’s been through primary, secondary, and now a year and a half of high school and still sucks at English.

So she nods, smiles, mumbles “Hi, I’m Bella” to the new faces, and blushes heavily when anybody says anything.

People assume she’s shy. That’s a bit boring, but oh well.

She has her biology class with the redhead hottie she noticed during lunch. She watched him and his family, they were fascinatingly pretty, but she doesn’t know anything more about them. Sure would have been great if she could have asked the tiny girl (was it Jess?) about them.

Biology proceeds as in canon - Edward badly wants to eat the delicious girl, but fortunately doesn’t.

She runs into him in the office when he tries to switch to another biology lesson, but she has no idea what he’s saying so she only has the suspicion that this somehow concerns her. Which is still uncomfortable, but Bella is probably the problem here. The hottie surely can’t be.

He’s missing from school for a week, Bella finds that weird.

He returns, and to her great horror he starts talking to her.

“Hello”, he says.

Bella dies inside. He’s too handsome!

"I'm Edward Cullen," he continues, and ok, she got that. The hottie is called Edward, that’s good to know. She’s not sure she caught that last name, though, Köln?

He says something else, it’s gibberish to Bella even though she’s concentrating, and at the end there he says “Bella Swan”.

She gulps.

"I'm Bella Swan," she confirms and nods. That should be correct. God, she hopes it’s correct.

He smiles a crooked, boyish smile. She’s awed. She didn’t think it was possible to be so beautiful.

He says something else.

Bella didn’t catch it.

She blushes even harder, she hasn’t been more embarrassed in her life. Here he is, the most handsome guy in all the world, and she has nothing to say to him. Literally, they don’t speak the same language.

She should tell him.

It’s one thing to chicken out of telling the town she doesn’t speak English, but there’s something different about Edward Cullen. He deserves the truth.

But...

He’s the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. He is American, too, so the odds of him knowing Norwegian are microscopical. If he finds out she doesn’t understand a word he says he’ll stop talking to her, and selfish as she is she doesn’t want that.

So with a slightly guilty conscience (but not enough to fess up) she contributes to the conversation with enough words and smiles to pull through. "Yes", "No", "Thank you", and "That's nice".

He is surprised by several of these answers, but instead of giving her odd looks and losing interest he grows more invested in the conversation.

Class ends.

The next day the near accident happens, and he saves her. She is stunned - dear god, did he just pick up a whole car? After teleporting across the parking lot..?

Soon she’s in the ER, and more than a little bit stressed about that fact since she knows the Americans have a terrible healthcare system.

She hopes Charlie has an insurance.

An insanely beautiful man walks into the ER, and Bella is shocked. He is just as handsome as Edward and Edward’s lunch friends!

He introduces himself as Carlisle Cullen, and Bella can only assume this is someone’s older brother. Possibly related to the blonde girl.

He smiles at her, says something, and she answers, "I'm Bella Swan."

He frowns.

That must have been the wrong answer, then.

His hands return to investigating her scalp, and to her great surprise he switches to perfect Norwegian, "kjenner De* noe ubehag når jeg holder her?" Do you feel any discomfort when I touch here?

*De is the Norwegian polite pronoun for “you”. Du = thou = the French tu, and De = you = the French vous. These polite pronouns went out of use in the 1980’s, save for when addressing royal persons, and would be considered antiquated in 2005.

He hurries to add, "Norsk lærte jeg i... fjor sommer. Det var et nettkurs." I learned Norwegian… last year. Online class.

"Hvilket da?" Which one? Bella asks, because Charlie needs to hear about this. The doctor has beautiful, if slightly outdated, pronunciation.

The doctor’s smile turns uncertain. She gets the feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to say. "Husker ikke," I don’t remember, sier han etter en litt vel lang pause.

That’s a shame. And weird.

"De hadde hellet med Dem i dag, som ikke ble truffet av den bilen." You were lucky today, not getting hit by that car. he then says, noticeably changing the subject.

"Det var ikke hell, det var Edward," It wasn’t luck, it was Edward, she replies sharply.

The doctor definitely looks uncomfortable.

She continues, "Han krysset skolegården på et blunk, og plukket opp hele bilen. Jeg så det," He crossed the schoolyard in a moment, and picked up the whole car. I saw it,

The doctor laughs. "Om han kunne det hadde nok gymkarakteren hans vært meget bedre. Nei, frøken Swan*, jeg beklager å si at det høres ut som at De er litt omtåket. Det er helt normalt ved hjernerystelse." If he could do that, his PE grade would be a lot better. No, Miss Swan, I’m sorry to say you seem confused. That’s normal with concussions.

*Addressing a young woman as “frøken” is even more outdated than using polite pronouns.

Why does Bella get the feeling he’s lying?

She’s discharged.

We’ll jump ahead to her trip to La Push - that trip uneventful, since Jacob knows she doesn’t speak English. They stick their hands in their pockets and stare at the sea.

The next day she’s shanghaied to Port Angeles, because apparently she said “Yes” at the wrong time when talking to Jessica (Turns out Jess’s name was Jessica!) and accidentally said yes to a day trip to Port Angeles.

Like in canon she wanders away from the others, and as in canon she is nearly gang raped. And again as in canon she is saved at the last moment by Edward.

He buys her dinner, and she can’t believe her own luck- and misfortune. A date with the most handsome guy on the planet (hence the luck) and she can’t say a word to him (hence the misfortune)!

He says things to her, lends her his jacket, and really this is it for Bella, she’s peaked, life can’t get better than this.

(That’s a lie, it would be better if she spoke English.)

He’s so amazing.

She’s gotten pretty good at navigating conversations with him, so she nods and aha’s her way through.

In his car on the way home the tone takes a more serious turn.

He asks her about something, and it’s a serious question, that much she’s gathered. She answers in the confirmative.

He is silent.

Did she say anything wrong?

(Edward, on his end, just asked if she knows what he is. She said yes, so calmly, not even a trace of fear in her.)

A few days later he takes her out on a walk in the woods.

He shows her a meadow in the woods, and when he steps into it he lights up in the sunlight.

Bella is in shock.

She knew there was something different about him, but- holy cow. This guy isn’t human.

Is she dating a god?

She stumbles into the clearing after him, and they spend a day together where he says things, and she can barely hear any of it (nevermind understand it) because she’s so distracted by how pretty he is.

The next day he takes her to a house in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t want to guess that this can be where he lives. Surely gods don’t live in houses?

He shows her inside the house, and introduces her for Dr. Cullen and a lady with a name she doesn’t catch.

Bit weird that these two are acting like a couple of parents, they’re far too young and divine for that.

Edward shows her around in an old-fashioned office, and she doesn’t know what to make of i when she sees a painting of Carlisle. Edward launches into a long story when he sees her watching it, unfortunately she doesn’t catch any dates or artist names. At one point she heard the word “suicide”, though, and that’s not good.

She doesn’t get much out of the story.

The baseball game doesn’t happen because Bella didn’t pick up on what Edward wanted and didn’t realize she was being invited to a thing. They spend the afternoon watching a movie instead.

The relationship continues, impeded slightly by communication problems, but she’s mostly able to cover those up.

Until her birthday comes around.

She gets a papercut.

Jasper lunges at her. Edward throws her into a glass table, and then everyone is leaving.

Carlisle is kind enough to switch to Norwegian when he’s stitching up her arm, perhaps remembering the last time she was his patient. "Jasper har ikke vært på dietten vår så veldig lenge." Jasper hasn’t been on our diet for very long.

"Diett?"she asks. She’s never seen Edward eat anything. She wasn’t clear on what the Cullens ate, honestly she thought they were above such things. She was thinking maybe photosynthesis. The knowledge that they apparently eat food astounds her, but diets?

"Dyreblod istedenfor menneskeblod," Animal blood in stead of human blood, Carlisle clarifies.

Whachasay?

Carlisle gives a slight smile. “Jaspers liv som vampyr fikk en brutal start." Jasper’s life as a vampire got off to a brutal start.

...

Vampire?!

Bella’s missed something here.

Oh dear lord, oh fy faen, she has missed something.

“Åja”, uh huh, is all she can say, and suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s sitting there with a bleeding arm.

And Carlisle.

Who is a vampire.

Over the course of the following conversation Bella makes a host of discoveries.

Edward has been a vampire this whole time, and he’s a telepathic vampire. Whether Bella should be a vampire too or not has been a matter of hot debate, but due to religious reasons Edward doesn’t want that.

Carlisle also brings up how Edward died of the Spanish flu.

"Jeg var under den oppfatning at Edward fortalte deg bakhistorien min?" I was under the impression Edward told you my back story? Carlisle asks at one point, and Bella just has to ask very nicely if he’d be so kind as to repeat it.

Turns out the guy is nearly four hundred years old.

Jaha.

Jahahaha jaa ha.

That’s… a lot.

She wanders out of the house in shock, and hardly notices Edward’s strange behavior over the next couple of days.

One day he picks her up at school, and takes her behind the house.

That works out.

He’s a vampire, but he never hurt her. He is endlessly beautiful, perhaps easier to love now that she knows he’s not a god. He’s her Edward, and that’s suddenly easier now that she knows.

They can still be together.

But now that she knows this about him, it’s about time he knows something about her as well.

It’s time to finally be honest with him.

So when he opens his mouth, she opens her mouth as well, but she doesn’t get any further than to “Edward-” before he launches into a monologue.

She’ll have to wait until he’s done before saying her piece. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like he intends to stop talking anyway.

And what he’s saying seems to be serious, so it’s probably best to let him finish.

Edward concludes his monologue by kissing her forehead. Then he disappears.

Where did he go?

A big unsure, Bella goes back to the house. She’ll just have to wait until he gets back.

She doesn’t know what to think when Charlie returns from work and tells her the Cullens have all left.

Oh, god.

Edward must have found out she doesn’t speak English.

She made a mockery of him.

He has every right to leave.

Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier to live with.

Bella sinks into a depression.

The hallucinations begin, as in canon, though Hallusinward speaks Norwegian. Thank god for small mercies.

The friendship with Jacob (dictionary in hand) blooms, as someone has to help her see those hallucinations.

The cliff diving happens, and Alice shows up. Bella’s not sure what this is about, but she has gotten good enough at English to know that something bad happened, and Alice wants them to do something.

She’s a bit surprised to find herself on a plane to Italy, though.

Alice tells her to “Run to Edward” and ok, she got that, actually.

So she saves Edward.

After that she’s taken into the sewer, which turns out to house dozens of vampires.

Bella, Edward, and Alice are received in some kind of hall, where an unusual vampire has quite a bit to say. She understands some of what he’s saying, at least the part about “la tua cantante”. She knows a bit about Italian, see, so she knows that he’s talking about a song now.

She wishes she knew the context.

At one point he takes her hand, and appears fascinated by it. She wonders if he’s a palmreader. Not very vampirey, but what does she know.

He asks her a question.

"Yes," she says.

Saying yes has gotten her this far, after all.

But when he lights up and claps his hands together, and Edward and Alice stare at her in shock and betrayal, she knows she must have said the wrong thing.

The two are dismissed from the room before Bella can do or say anything, she’s just listening to Edward make a racket outside in the hallway.

Not good.

The unusual vampire brings her further down in his sewer palace to a basement, and she is given comfortable clothes to wear.

This is getting terrifying.

The vampire leans towards her - and she chickens out.

"Jeg snakker ikke engelsk!" she squeaks. "Non habla ingles!" I don’t speak English.

Han stanser, og ser forvirret ut. "Que- Hva behager*?" I beg your pardon? spør han etter et øyeblikk.

*A very formal, and slightly outdated (you can use it, but people will think you’re putting on airs. And they will be right) way of saying “excuse me?”

Sobbing, Bella tells him the whole story, from how she didn’t want to be the weird kid in school to how she’s now somehow in Italy without knowing why nor what she just agreed to.

When she’s done the vampire starts laughing.

"Dette forklarer jo en hel del," This explains quite a bit, ler han. "Men, kjære Bella, jeg er redd det ikke endrer noe." But, my dear Bella, I’m afraid it changes nothing.

He tells her that she has agreed to serve him and his army of undead warriors into eternity.

Well fuck.

"Du skal få slippe det, når du ikke visste hva du samtykket til - men skjebnen din forblir den samme. Loven er loven." You’re released from that promise, as you didn’t know what you agreed to - but your fate remains the same. The law is the law.

After a moment of silence, during which she looks terrified, he hurries to add, "Vi har en lov. Du må bli en av oss." We have a law. You must become one of us.

A law that Bella Swan has to become a vampire?

People are finally speaking Norwegian, and Bella is still lost. And it’s too embarrassing to keep pestering this poor, polite man with questions.

So she nods.

He gives her a glittering smile, and bites her.

When she wakes, Aro offers her an English course. A language course that, naturally, leads to her staying in Volterra. Why not learn a few more languages while we’re at it, dearest Bella?

Some time later Edward breaks into Volterra to save his Rapunzel, only to barely recognize her now that she’s a vampire who says things. Lots of things, she talks all the time now. WHAT DID ARO DO TO HER.

Too mortified to admit that she never spoke English, Bella claims she’s been brainwashed.

Aro is having too much fun to correct her, and the whole sad affair sets off a regrettable flood of rumors.

[writingwithcolor]

Arab Character Joining Corrupt Superheroes, Police Parallels

Anonymous asked:

I’m writing a story with a Arabian diaspora main character. The story is about corrupt superheroes, and how they affect an oppressed superpowered minority. The main character is one of these superheroes, naively joining them in his teens believing he’s going to help people. Doesn’t help that his parents are having money trouble. Eventually he ends up fighting a superpowered crook, and gets a bystander killed.

1)I know portraying an Arabian character committing violence is a pretty touchy subject, even if accidental. Is there any way I can write this that makes it clear to the reader that the action itself is messed up without the unfortunate implication that Arabs are violent? 

2)A large part of the story is the MC’s parents reaction. They are loving parents, however after this incident happens, they are confused and ashamed. While they still love him, they temporarily cut ties with him. Eventually they reconcile and start to be a family again. In my research (they are diaspora Saudi Arabians), Family is very important and tight-nit. Shame towards the family is to be avoided at all costs. However I’ve also read that disowning a family member rarely ever happens. Is there a way to write this kind of narrative with respect to this aspect of Arabian culture?

Let us begin with some terminology.

- If a person is from Saudi Arabia, they are Saudi Arabian, or more commonly, Saudi. This is their nationality.

- They may or may not be Arab. Arab is an ethnicity. Not all Saudis are Arab. Not all Arabs are Saudi.

- Arabic is a language. Lots of people across the world who are neither Saudi nor Arab speak Arabic.

- Arabian on its own is a word used to refer to a specific breed of horses.

If you are referring to humans, you want to either say "Saudi Arabian" (both words) or “Saudi” to indicate nationality, or "Arab" to indicate ethnicity. If you’re looking to describe your character’s culture, you probably want to call it Saudi culture. (While grammatically correct, talking about “Arab culture” doesn’t make much sense because Arabs are an incredibly diverse ethnic group and there is no such thing as a single monolithic Arab culture).

Now for the first question. In my mind, the issue is less about the character committing violence, and more about the premise of the story and how it mirrors real-life oppressive structures. You have an organized group of superheroes who think they are doing good by fighting “crooks” but in reality are enacting systemic oppression upon a marginalized group. This immediately brings to mind police violence, racial profiling, and the way that policing in North America is used as a tool of white supremacy while glorified in propaganda as a force for good. Essentially, you are telling a story about a character who joins an oppressive policing force, enacts violence upon a marginalized group as a result, and (I’m assuming) eventually realizes that they are not, in fact, the good guys. This is very close to being a “bigoted character learns not to be bigoted” story. I recommend re-examining your premise in light of the real-life parallels and asking yourself whether this is the story you want to tell. 

The issue is compounded by the fact that your character is an Arab teen, who in real life is more likely to be the one facing racial profiling from the police. Taking this character and making him the oppressor in your story makes the already flawed premise even more problematic, especially if the characters in the oppressed group are white.

As for your second question, it seems believable to me that a teen’s parents might reject him if they learned that he committed a crime. However, when the family in question is Arab, you are suddenly feeding into harmful tropes about oppressive and violent Arab parents. You are asking if there is a way to write this respectfully. I believe that there is, but it requires a great deal of care, nuance, and cultural awareness. While it is possible to write a Saudi Arab character grappling with the consequences of violence and familial estrangement in a compelling way, the way your ask is phrased leads me to believe you are not equipped to do it justice. 

- Mod Niki

Think about why Arab people committing violence is a touchy subject, and then think about the general propaganda narrative that came about from the act that made things so touchy. 

It’s going to sound one hell of a lot like what you have here.

Military and police use buckets and buckets of propaganda to continue hooking in young, impressionable teens to commit state-sanctioned colonialism and oppression. That propaganda looks suspiciously like “we have health insurance, we will pay for your education, you just have to do what we tell you even if that means hurting or killing others, but it’s okay because you get to be the hero in the situation.”

Now, propaganda is a very powerful tool. I was taught, in my media classes, that controlling the message means shaping reality. The media is built as a propaganda machine, and when you start to see who owns what media properties you start to see some really disturbing patterns (Rubert Murdoch owns a lot of right-wing sources across America, the UK, and Australia, and he’s too rich to investigate his culpability in spinning terrible narratives found in right-wing publications. He owns the big names).

As Niki said, this situation mirrors police violence and police-sanctioned terrorism. And the very, very unfortunate implications of making the target of police violence be in that wheel. But I want you to look at the media situation that has made the plot happen.

Because even if you swapped out ethnicities, you’d still have a reckoning to do with the American culture that their primary social safety nets involve killing people.

I am not kidding.

Some of the most well-funded unions in the country are police unions. These people have pensions. They have health insurance. It’s damn near impossible to fire them. They get overtime very well mandated, and it’s a known thing among defence lawyers that arrests happen right before a cop’s shift will end so they get the overtime of filing the paperwork. They absolutely go into poor neighbourhoods and recruit based off people needing an escape, and them having the money to provide it.

A similar sentiment is true for the military, except they push for college education a bit more and don’t really have overtime, but they do have deployment bonuses. So the way to get extra pay for yourself is to go out and do colonialism outside the borders. The military doesn’t necessarily like it when the economy is doing well, and don’t like the idea of college being affordable, because they rely so heavily on poverty and fear of college debt to recruit. 

The story you’re telling here goes so far beyond an individual’s actions and instead taps into America’s single biggest cultural investment: that oppressing others makes you a hero. 

The Pentagon funds most military media out there as a propaganda tool, including most superhero movies and a large number of video games. This is in their budget. They will also go so far as to literally commission the games to exist. Part of getting that funding is you cannot critique America’s military, basically at all (the only exception I’ve seen is Ms Marvel, but that’s set in the 90s). This turns any sort of military-using media into a potential propaganda tool.

And the thing is? Even if you fall for that propaganda and were part of the military or the police, you still have to reckon with the fact you put whatever your own desires were above a huge track record of those groups being terrible. You still have to reckon with the fact you didn’t realize they were wrong, and were complicit in a lot of crimes.

This goes very far beyond “the action is terrible” and goes into “the system is rotten to its core, and you chose not to believe it, or to believe you could change what was built with blood.”

“Good” police officers get fired. If you try to question anything, if you try to say this action is wrong, you will absolutely get destroyed. Military’s much the same. You need some degree of buy-in to the concept of white supremacy to sign up for the military or the police, because you need to see their actions as not deal breakers instead of actions that violate multiple international laws. 

In short: you need to see the people being oppressed as deserving of being oppressed to some degree in order to participate with police and the military.

Marginalized people can hold this belief, it happens. But that is a very sticky situation that outsiders shouldn’t touch. 

It’s possible but difficult for you to write a white person having this sort of arc, but it would be extremely challenging to have it not come across as a white guilt story. To not have a socially aware audience roll their eyes at how long it took. You’d definitely not be writing a story with a diverse audience in mind, because you’d mostly appeal to those who saw the propaganda as just fine and not that bad.

This isn’t even getting into the oft-cited adage that boys who bully others become cops, while girls who bully become nurses. And the more police atrocities become mainstream news, the less and less people can convince themselves that becoming a police officer is a good thing.

Which brings me to the point of: how well-documented is this oppression? Is this character walking around in an oppressive situation like, say, pre-social-media where there was no direct access to the oppressed groups and you could close your eyes and look away even if it made national news? Or is this in a media connected world where these oppressed populations have a voice in the narrative?

The former has an angle of the character slowly realizing the horror and it’s slightly more forgivable for their early ignorance. But in any sort of world where there’s access to the people getting hurt? Things get more and more “ignorance is indistinguishable from maliciousness.” And keep in mind, these stories are read in the real world, where police brutality and war crimes go viral, and a lack of knowledge is getting harder and harder to defend as a position.

Media plays a huge role in shaping our perception of what’s happening. Cameras on a situation makes different activism tactics work, as we can see with how activism changed in the 60s and 70s as tv reached the masses. Social media has made it possible for you to look up firsthand accounts of discrimination within seconds. 

This is a factor you are absolutely going to have to consider, when you want to look at how nice your hero is seen by marginalized or otherwise socially-aware people. If there is a way to find out how bad this superhero organization is before you sign a contract with them? Then that doesn’t look particularly good on the “hero”. You’d really have to establish them as super idealistic, super sheltered, super desperate, and/or just swallow the knowledge that they really don’t see anything that happens “over there to those people” as that bad. 

All of the above is more than possible. And they’d still be seen as complicit no matter what justification you gave, because they are.

Does this mean all corrupt organization stories are off limits? No. The reason these stories have such deep cultural resonance right now is because of the propaganda I outlined above. 

But you as the author are going to have to examine your own engagement with the propaganda narrative and do your own private reckoning so your own sense of guilt and compliance doesn’t bleed through the narrative too strongly, so you can tell a good story instead of an overt message story that’s you working out your own feelings.

By all means, write a story where police and the military are taken down, where propaganda is weaponized and the media is controlled (because that’s sure as hell the modern world). 

But know that stories where the hero discovers the corruption already have a ticking clock because we, in the real world, are slowly being faced with a mountain of apathy instead of ignorance. The knowledge of oppression is out there so much that marginalized people are tired of the ignorance defence. 

As the saying goes, “privilege is the ability to ignore the oppression of others.” 

Propaganda, centralized media, and strategic cultural investment made it possible for police and the military to have a chokehold on their public perception. But that’s changing. The chokehold is starting to fade, people are starting to question their beliefs. 

The past year has shown that knowledge isn’t the issue; it’s white supremacy. People don’t want to believe that any of this is that bad. People want to believe that oppression is justified, that if people just followed the law they’d be fine. They don’t want to question themselves. And marginalized people are tired of these narratives where, suddenly, people snap out of it. Because there was so much evidence to show it was bad, but it was only when you do one of the worst crimes imaginable that you realize this is bad? It’s only when it becomes personal that things are worth looking at critically?

No. And you need to examine where you are in processing your own complicity before writing a story where you’ve swapped around the ethnicities to try and distance yourself from the problem, where in the end you made the target the oppressor.

~Mod Lesya

[arrantsnowdrop]

To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”

Tags: @lothloriien​

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)

~~~~~

Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.

Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.

Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.

It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.

It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.

You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.

You hated this.

Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.

“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.

“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.

You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.

Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match. 

You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.

“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.

“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”

“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.

“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.

“It’s just-”

They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”

“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”

“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.

----

What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.

Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.

It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.

As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?

Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.

That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.

You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.

----

The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.

Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.

At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.

It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.

“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.

“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.

“I was right here,” you replied meekly.

“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.

“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”

“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.

“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”

“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.

“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.

----

The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.

You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.

“Y/N!” he called again.

“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.

“I’m coming in.”

“Don’t-”

You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.

“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.

“Nothing’s wr-”

“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.

“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”

“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”

“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”

“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”

You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.

“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”

Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”

“Anakin-”

He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.

You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.

Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.

“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.

“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.

“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.

“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”

You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.

[webofpassione]

Fight Prevention

Narancia x Reader x Fugo

Content Warnings: NSFW Content, Polygamy, AFAB Reader

***

You slid into your chair, taking small sips of your drink while doing so. It was a little too sweet but the tangy bite of the lemon kept you coming back for more. The iciness of it on a warm day was almost heavenly.

It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable out but you’d chosen your spot in the kitchen for its coolness rather than its company. After all, whenever Narancia needed help with academic-related things, he would go to one person. The one person who had possibly the least amount of patience with these things.

“Why is this so difficult for you to understand?” Fugo groused; most of his energy having faded in earlier outbursts and left nothing but exhaustion behind.

“I understand it,” Narancia argued. “But you keep changing the question.”

“What? No, I don’t. I’ve already told you that no matter which way the numbers are ordered, they give the same result.”

“As long as you’re trying to get a bigger number and not a smaller one,” you added helpfully.

Narancia frowned at you. Realising you were only confusing things, you waved his attention back to Fugo and listened rather than participating. It was an interesting dynamic. They were one of the closest pairs in the group but often their interactions left bruises and blood.

And not in the fun way.

Fugo showed him another question and Narancia stared at it so hard, you were sure the paper was about to burst into flame. After a while, he glanced up at you, asking for help with massive puppy-dog eyes.

“Don’t look at me Nara, I hate math,” you said. “That’s why I own a calculator.”

“You shouldn’t really rely on calculators,” Fugo muttered.

Narancia scribbled down an answer. It wasn’t correct but it was closer than either of you assumed and Fugo couldn’t help but acknowledge the accomplishment. Narancia preened under the positive comment; he beamed proudly, not listening to a word Fugo was saying to explain why it was still wrong.

“Now, try this next question and just do the same thing you did before.”

Bolstered by his earlier success, Narancia grew sloppy and his answer was absurdly wrong which caused a slight twitch in Fugo’s eye.

“How –“

Sensing an impending fight that you weren’t too excited to deal with (and not sure you could manage without Bucciarati’s help), you cleared your throat. “Positive reinforcement,” you reminded Fugo softly.

“Clearly doesn’t work!” he snapped.

You took another sip of your drink when an idea popped into your head. But it was one you were going to have to run by Fugo first, just in case.

“Panna,” you said, getting his attention before he could lose his cool. “Can I ask you something quickly? Won’t take long.”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine. Narancia, try again.”

You slipped just outside the door, whispering your plan to Fugo, and trying to keep it looking like you didn’t mind either way. It was difficult to maintain that neutrality but you managed it with a bit of posturing. This was a fun idea – not one that you needed. Whatever he wanted was what you’d end up going with.

He didn’t like it entirely but after offering a few suggestions of his own, you had a deal. Something in your expression made him stumble a bit over his last words before you made your way back to the table.

Narancia proudly showed off his correct result and Fugo nodded while you took a seat, sliding closer to Nara, giving him a kiss on the cheek in congratulations.

“Aw, come on, doesn’t that deserve a real one?” he asked.

You smirked, prediction coming true as though you were a fortune teller.

Narancia’s lips tasted faintly of cake. You kept it slow at first but when he shifted to break the kiss, you followed him. His lips parted beneath yours. Caressing his jaw, you made sure he stuck to your pace even as a slightly needy noise fell from his mouth.

You broke the kiss, throwing a glance at Fugo to make sure he was okay (the flush on his face was far from a negative reaction), before meeting Narancia’s gaze. His pupils were blown wide; his focus only on you. Your touch travelled down his chest, dipping lower and lower until he realised.

“Wait, what are you –“

“Next question,” Fugo said sharply. There was a slight tremble to his voice but he covered it up well.

“But…” Narancia’s eyes darted between the two of you. It was almost like he was trying to tell Fugo what was happening as if it couldn’t be seen.

You slipped from your chair, making sure not to hit your head as you slid under the table. “As long as you don’t get anything wrong, I’m not going to stop,” you purred, hand drifting over his thighs.

Narancia swallowed heavily. “Okay?” he agreed. “I can do that.”

You fluttered kisses across his legs, hovering but not truly touching more sensitive areas. Narancia’s breathing hitched every time you grew close. It took him longer than usual to get the answer but he finally reached it.

“Alright. Now try this.”

Taking Fugo’s statement as a sign to continue, you began to fiddle with Narancia’s belt. You caught his eyes when he glanced down – his face the slightest bit flushed. His pupils were blown wide and you winked as you finally ran your hand along the outline of his erection where it strained against his pants.

He let out a soft moan of approval, cut off by Fugo clearing his throat. “Narancia, focus.”

A glance at the other chair behind you told you that Fugo wasn’t unaffected by this in the slightest. You smirked and lightly brushed your nails along his thigh before refocusing your attention on Narancia.

His cock was already weeping when you took it out. He groaned as you swiped your thumb over the slit, working his length with steady pumps of your hand.

There was a fluttering of papers and you paused, waiting patiently to hear what was happening above.

“This is the basically same question from earlier but you still got it wrong,” Fugo sighed. “The numbers –“

You immediately moved away, shifting to find a comfortable position without bumping your head on the table. Narancia tried to move back into your grip, grumbling when he found nothing. You leaned in close to blow a teasing puff of air against him and giggled and his complaint.

“This isn’t fair,” he complained, looking down at you. “Don’t I get one mistake?”

“No,” Fugo responded before you could. “Now let’s try again.”

Without anything to do, you turned your attention to Fugo, running your nails lightly across the exposed skin until he looked at you. Two of your favourite holes on his outfit gave you easy access to his inner thighs. You didn’t break eye contact as you kissed and licked higher and higher, waiting for permission.

The red that started on his neck crept up onto his cheeks and he looked away with a small nod.

You grinned. A small bite and Fugo’s hips tilted up toward you involuntarily. He spoke to correct something Narancia was doing, voice wavering a little.

It was right as you took his head into your mouth that you heard a congratulations for a correct answer given. You pulled off with a soft noise and ran your fingers along the side of Narancia’s cock, sinking right to the base without warning.

The table shook and you exchanged laughter for raising your head at a painfully slow pace. A curse from Narancia – broken by a shuddering moan – sent a needy shake through you. It was uncomfortable on the floor; no friction being granted despite your best attempts.

You were being sloppy but Narancia didn’t mind. His hips rocked against you desperately.

“Not doing the question is the same as getting it wrong,” Fugo pointed out.

You slowed yourself down, breathing in heavily through your nose to try and listen through the haze that was settling on your mind. The need for more was clawing at your core and making your breathing come out shallow.

“C’mon Fugo,” Narancia whined. “Like you could do any better.”

“You said you could do it. Have you even looked at the question yet?”

You ran your tongue slowly along his length, flicking a little when you reached the head. Narancia groaned and tried his hardest to not to grind up against you.

“But we haven’t done anything like this before.”

“It’s not that challenging. You’ll see if you –“

“Fuck it.”

The table made a horrible screeching noise as it got pushed aside and Narancia grinned down at you like he’d just won a medal. He dropped off his chair and pulled you into a fierce kiss; shoving his way into your mouth at a bruising pace, your teeth bumping together. You whined when he grabbed two fistfuls of your hair to hold you in place.

You heard Fugo speak, his voice so far away that it could have been on another planet, as he grumbled about the table. Narancia pulled away, already smirking at you with a plan as readable as a book.

Fugo startled when you both turned your attention on him, stuttering something out as you closed the distance.

You didn’t break eye contact for a second as you took his cock into your mouth with a soft moan. He bit subtly at his lower lip. His breathing increased in pace when you moved back and Narancia took your place.

The two of you traded messily, lavishing attention on Fugo as though it were a competition. His sounds had you melting. The fire was surely not limited to yourself and while Narancia was busy, you slipped a hand between his thighs to where his neglected cock sat. He moaned wantonly around Fugo, causing the blond to curse and buck his hips.

Narancia returned the favour, fingers seeking out your clit and making you whine in approval as he increased his pace.

Fugo groaned when he noticed. His eyes screwed shut and his knuckles turning white against the chair as you took him right to the back of your throat. Narancia did something with his fingers that had you grinding against his hand, flashes of pleasure making your core weak.

Fugo muttered as you swapped again, his voice strained.

You counted yourself as luckier. Getting to watch him finish was a treat, his head tipped back and his mouth open. His back arched away from the chair and you briefly worried his grip would damage the wood. You wished he wouldn’t hold back his voice but you could see his chest tremble with the effort to stay contained.

Narancia brought your attention back to him. He captured your lips teasingly, sharing Fugo’s release between your mouths in a sloppy kiss. Fugo practically hiccupped as he realised. Both of your names fell from his mouth like a whispered secret.

Narancia shifted your panties aside and finally slid two fingers inside you. You moaned, swallowing, and twisting your hand just so as you pumped his cock in time to the rhythm he set. The two of you broke your kiss, sweaty foreheads pressed together as you jerked each other off, eyes closed and panting heavily.

“Nara,” you whimpered, desperate and pleading.

The floor was uncomfortable beneath you but you didn’t care. You couldn’t focus on anything more than a deep desire for more.

Narancia reached his release first, a high whine escaping as he spilled across your hand. You didn’t last much longer as blades of white heat ripped through your body and you clenched your thighs tightly together.

You were trembling when you came down from your high. Narancia kissed you again, softer this time. You returned it before both of you smiled up at Fugo.

He was staring down at you with an expression clouded in lust, his eyes dark and his cheeks flushed. “That wasn’t the plan,” he mentioned. “And I thought Giorno was the voyeur of the group.”

“Voyeur?” you repeated innocently, complete with an overdramatic batting of your eyelashes. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Who cares,” Narancia scoffed. He ground against you with his palm, making you yelp and moan at the same time. “Let’s just do that again.”

[themagnuswriters]

Asexuality in Fic Roundtable - What We Like

How do I write a convincing asexual character in a fic?  Is there a way to address a character’s sexuality outside the context of sex or coming out?  Can a story feature a character's asexuality aside from exploring the negative aspects of the asexual experience?  It’s usually not too hard to find lists of what not to do when writing asexual characters, but much more difficult to find the opposite.

The asexual members of The Magnus Writers discord gathered to discuss their favorite ways to incorporate the day-to-day details of asexual peoples’ experiences into fiction.  We also discussed depictions that we’ve enjoyed in the past, or would love to see more of.  Note that this isn’t an Asexuality 101 resource, so if you don’t feel familiar with the basics, feel free to check out the resources we will link in the reblog of this post.

This conversation included a variety of ace-spectrum people from multiple countries, including both arospec and non-aro people, various genders, and varying relationships to sex and sexual content.  Just like all asexual people are different, the things that we enjoy reading are far from universal.  Some tropes/details brought up as favorites can vary widely--for example, “innuendo completely flies over their head” vs. “they understand but are completely unfazed by innuendo.”  Additionally, some aces love tropes that others would prefer to avoid: for instance some enjoy discussions of physical boundaries to be included in the fic, and some prefer that to be established as happening in the past.  

The examples brought up in our discussion are also far from comprehensive, and can be seen as the beginning of an endless list of possible ways to write asexual characters.  Some examples given are specific to the Magnus Archives, but can apply to any writing.  Take these as inspiration and a way to broaden your understanding of who we are and what we like to see!

ASEXUALITY IN YOUR SETTING

When writing a story including asexual characters, one of your first considerations may be for how asexuality is contextualized within your setting:  Is it fully normalized and accepted?  Does it reflect real-world stigmas?  How is asexuality treated by the narrative and the other characters?  Contributors showed interest in a variety of approaches on this front, with no single approach being worth more than other:

Fics including negative real-world experiences

These would include fics in a realistic setting, where characters may struggle with internalized acephobia, stigma, social pressure, microaggressions, dysphoria, and so on.  This isn’t limited to just “issue fic,” where the focus of the fic is about examining and confronting a struggle, but rather encompasses anything that includes this consideration in its worldbuilding and characterization.  While brighter settings can be refreshing, contributors described reasons why this kind of fic appeals to them:

Feeling seen: Reading about ace characters whose experiences reflect their own

Feeling validated:  Being exposed to only stories where there are no issues on this front can feel like we’re the only one facing these struggles.  It can be extremely cathartic to read something and think “I thought I was the only person who went through this.”

Exploring improvement/hope:  From ace characters learning to accept themselves or other characters making mistakes and accepting correction, these can be validating and encouraging.

On top of ace readers finding worth in these fics, the act of writing the fic can also be very cathartic for many ace authors.

There is a lot of variety for how these fics can be written, such as:

Stories that focus on the negative experience

Stories where that experience is just part of the setting or characterization

The character(s) getting external support and validation

The character facing mixed dismissiveness, acceptance, prejudice, etc. from different people

The story resolving in a way where the situation is resolved: for instance, cutting off an acephobic relationship, or someone apologizing for a microaggression.

Stories where well-meaning characters are accidentally insensitive about asexuality, but learn better and change their behavior

The character confronting or overcoming an internal struggle

Stories where the issues aren’t fully resolved by the end, such as an insecurity not fully going away.

Negative asexual experiences don’t have to be the focus of a fic to be acknowledged. While “issue fics” that closely examine and explore these experiences are valuable, contributors also described enjoying stories that included them as simply an element of the worldbuilding or characterization.  For instance, a story may reference Jon having bad past relationship experiences; facing assumptions that he’s having sex if he’s in a relationship; having moments of insecurities about his sexuality; etc.

Please note that writing negative ace experiences needs to be handled sensitively; fics of this type should definitely be tagged appropriately.  For brief references, consider including author’s note warnings on the appropriate chapter (e.g. “asexual character assumed to be having sex”).  Having an asexual sensitivity reader--particularly one of a type that corresponds with what you’re writing (i.e. sex-neutral, gray-ace, sex-repulsed, etc)--is very much encouraged.

Fics where asexuality is normalized

In contrast, there is just as much interest in stories that avoid all of these issues, and fully normalize asexuality.  Contributors described how they enjoy stories where ace characters are allowed to just exist, without big important conversations or small othering details that depict asexual identities as less than fully accepted.

These can be included in any type of fic, but a few of the suggested details for how to normalize asexuality in a setting include:

A character being already out and accepted:  For instance, Martin already knowing about Jon’s asexuality from early seasons.

Characters in the fic already knowing what asexuality is without needing it explained to them

Having more than one character be asexual:  We aren’t confined to writing only canon characters as ace!  This not only goes the extra mile in normalizing asexuality, but it gives the chance to include more of the ace spectrum.

If you’re aiming for asexuality to be normalized, please consider whether it makes sense for your asexual character to be anxious about coming out or discussing boundaries.  There is a world of difference between someone responding to an ace character coming out with “I fully support you” and responding with “you’re an idiot for thinking we wouldn’t support you.”  This is a common and easy pitfall to fall into, but the result is often less escapism and more a message of “your struggles aren’t real, and you’re stupid for thinking they are.”

Asexuality in Metaphor

Some contributors mentioned wanting to read settings where asexuality itself is normalized, but the issues facing aces could be explored on a metaphorical level.  This falls somewhere in between the ideas of realistic or idealized settings as regards the ace experience, and could allow that exploration with a layer of distance.  Ideas relating to this included fantasy settings with different kinds of magic.

PERSONALITY AND CHARACTERIZATION

The experience of being asexual isn’t something just limited to a relationship with sex: it can be shown in many ways, such as how a character relates to themselves, other people, media, and society.  Like any other queer identity, it affects many aspects of our lives and informs a great deal about us as people.  These little details don’t even need to be presented in a blunt “this is because this character is asexual” way--they can be little relatable notes for your ace readers, while not coming across in a “this is how all ace people are” way.

We’ve seen the question “how do I write a character as asexual, if I’m not planning on having someone ask them for sex or writing a coming-out scene?” many times.  Our contributors were excited to share a wide variety of ideas for this from things they’ve read, written, or experienced:

Ace confusion

Not to be confused with the infantilizing “doesn’t know what sex is” approach, this could involve things like:

Being confused over what sexual attraction is: difficulty defining what they don’t experience.

Difficulty describing to others what lack of sexual attraction is: this is their default, and it can be difficult to contrast it to what they don’t experience.

Thinking that others describing sexual attraction or interest is just exaggeration

“Wait, that’s what you mean when you say ‘hot’?  I just thought it meant they’re gorgeous.”

“You mean meeting someone and being instantly sexually interested in them is a real thing, and not just a movie trope?”

The Absurdity of How Society Views Sex

The jarring dissonance between asexual experiences and the norms in society and media can cause a lot of alienation and dysphoria in aces, but often it hits a point of feeling like a joke is being played on you.  Contributors offered ideas for how this could be illustrated through a character:

Reading “How to Spice Up Your Love Life” articles out of pure morbid curiosity

Taking the most ridiculous Cosmo sex life article as How Everyone Thinks (and being concerned)

Having an allo friend or partner they can ask about whether any of it is legitimate advice (this one was brought up by a lot of people as a common ace experience)

An ADHD/autistic character getting a special interest or hyperfixation on societal views on sex or sexual practices, and pursuing it as purely a matter of research with no interest in participating

“Why do they keep bringing up ice cubes?  Georgie, stop laughing, I am a researcher and a scholar.”

Needing to teleport out of the room if a sex scene comes up in a movie

Not minding the sex scenes, but needing to make fun of them or point out impracticalities

“On the beach?  But sand is everywhere?  Wait, they think getting sand everywhere is hot??”

Being baffled at what’s considered sexy: for example, Jon being baffled at “wet clothes are sexy,” having grown up by the beach and associating them with being terribly uncomfortable

Of course, asexual characters don’t need to be framed like they constantly need to learn about things from allo people--sometimes the reverse can be a fun twist.  One reversal, for example, could be an ace person helping their allo friend parse whether their attraction to someone is simply sexual or also romantic.

Aces vs. flirting

While not specifically connected to sexual attraction, how a character interacts with flirting can very much demonstrate the asexual experience.  Contributors discussed a variety of their own experiences, and details they’ve enjoyed reading for ace characters:

Having difficulty distinguishing between different kinds of draws to people--is it romance?  Friendship?  

Having difficulty picking up on whether or not someone is interested in them

Failing to realize they’re flirting or being flirted with

Enjoying flirting as just a fun thing to do without any particular goal (a popular suggestion for a Tim ace headcanon)

Casually flirting but then backing off if it becomes “real”

Several examples were given of scenarios these could be used for Jon:

Jon’s dry prickliness stemming from wanting to avoid people thinking he’s flirting or showing interest in them, not being sure where others judge the line between “flirting” or “being nice.”  

Jon deciding he is going to make an effort to be more friendly to people, and awkwardly starts showering others with compliments; some of them interpret it as flirting and it’s very confusing.

Jon (or Martin) being overly dramatic or romantic when purposefully showing interest in someone, drawing from a basis of books or media rather than social experience.

Aces vs. hotness

We might use the word “hot” excessively, but ace people often have their own understanding of the word (and are often surprised to learn what others mean by it).  Contributors brought up the following ideas for this area:

Using “hot” as an expression of “gorgeous to look at,” and being confused to learn that others use it as a sexual expression.

Engaging with “are they hot” conversations based purely on aesthetics, or other impressions like “would they give good hugs.”

Focusing on seemingly random physical details, like wrists or eyebrow shape, over more commonly sexualized ones.

Being confused over the criteria others use for hotness.  Example:  Jon’s reaction to “the hot one” comment.

Finding fictional characters not represented by a real person “hot” (e.g. from books, podcasts, video games with bad graphics, etc)

Using the words “hot” and sexy” for completely nonsexual things.  Several contributors described being told they couldn’t be ace if they called anything hot/sexy, and then doing it more out of spite.

Being completely unfazed by innuendo or sex/nudity:  For example, Jon’s calm response vs. Martin being flustered at Tim stripping

This is also an area where a story can establish the nature of their relationship with those around them: if a character is comfortably out as not being interested in sex, for instance, you can show that others around them support that by making their conversations more inclusive. For example, a “fuck, marry, kill” game with modified categories, or a “who would you have sex with” conversation changed to a “who would you have dinner with” one once the ace character enters.  

Aces vs. sexual humor

Ace people’s reactions to sexual humor can vary as much as the reactions to flirting.  Contributors described enjoying a broad range of these:

Aces who love sexual humor (not limited to sex-favorable aces)

Humor taking an angle of “sex is so strange, glad it isn’t real.”

Aces who are bored with or exhausted by sexual humor

Not finding sexual humor funny unless it’s also clever.  “Yes I know that’s a sexual reference...wait, it was meant to be funny?  Because it’s connected to sex?  ....I see.  Anyway.”

Bonus points if the “is that supposed to be funny because it’s sexual?” ace and the filthy humor ace are friends

It can even vary for the same person from setting to setting: someone may find making dirty jokes with a group of ace friends might be fun (see the “Absurdity of Sex” section above), but be very uncomfortable with someone else trying to twist something they said into something sexual.  There’s also the nature of the joke itself: a silly pun may be fine, but a joke implying the ace person is interested in sex or said something sexual without meaning to may be alienating.

For TMA, the general interpretation of Jon is that he’d be uncomfortable with sexual humor, which is relatable to a lot of asexual people, but contributors brought up other possibilities as well: for example, the idea of Jon liking clever wordplay so much that if it just so happens to include something sexual, it doesn’t feel odd to him--why do the others look so shocked?

Note:  A lot of asexual awareness posts insensitively treat the concept of aces who love filthy humor as more mature, more easygoing, less stereotypical, or otherwise superior to aces who are uncomfortable with sexual humor.  This is a very harmful attitude that looks down on a lot of asexual people, and adds a pressure to push past comfort levels to fit in and “avoid being a stereotype.”  Contributors loved reading stories that include flirty or filthy aces, but not when they take this tone.  A favorite suggestion was to include more than one ace character to depict a variety, while treating them as equally valid.

Somewhat related to this is ace people’s relationship to sexual euphemisms.  Contributors described their experiences or how they might write an ace character responding to these:

Being exhausted by how so many terms are considered euphemisms, or how any comment could be reframed as sexual.

Having a special annoyance when they accidentally stumble into or misunderstand a euphemism

Wanting to decouple euphemisms from their literal meaning: why does “spending the night” or “going home with someone” have to mean “having sex”?

In the same line, being very blunt and straightforward about making sexual references, because why dance around it?

Characterization Considerations

One discussion that is particularly relevant to The Magnus Archives is the idea of the “uptight nerd” ace persona.  It may sound strange to say, but there is some legitimacy in this characterization, but for different reasons than is stereotyped.  Many of us build up this persona while growing up--particularly in adolescence and early adulthood--to fend off uncomfortable social pressure, self-examination, or external criticism for why we relate to sex differently than our peers.  This often involves playing up certain defenses for discomfort for sex or dating:  “I don’t have time for any of that, I only have time for books and knowledge!”  Or, the adult version:  “I don’t have time for relationships, I’m married to my job!”  

Where this departs from the stereotype is that these are generally coping mechanisms or facades rather than the truth.  Asexuality isn’t “of course they don’t have time for sex, they’re obsessed with this or that”--but an asexual person who doesn’t feel comfortable in their environment, such as around work, school, or family, may deflect judgment with similar excuses.  Similar to this, some find it tempting to be antisocial or hostile on purpose to fend off interest in them or avoid sexual expectations.

This is, of course, far from the only way an ace character could be written.  For instance, if you wanted to write a setting where asexuality is more accepted, you could write Jon’s antisocial and closed-off tendencies as a result of being bullied from a very young age, while he is confident and secure in his asexuality.  Or for other characters: you could write Tim as someone who has enjoyed sexual relationships, but just thought everyone was exaggerating on the attraction side of things.

Intersection of Asexuality with Other Identities

Another characterization consideration is how asexuality intersects with other identities and experiences included in the fic.  Below are a few examples of many:

Asexuality and masculinity:  Social expectations of masculinity place a high emphasis on sexuality, particularly heterosexuality, treating sexual activity as a commodity or prize.  One possible reading of The Magnus Archives is Jon’s tendency to have closer and more numerous friendships with women connects to this.    

Asexuality and trans identities:  There is a significant overlap between aspec and trans identities, particularly nonbinary identities.  Based on an October 2020 study by the Trevor Project (see link in reblog), ace respondents were roughly 50% more likely to be trans (including nonbinary) than allo respondents.  Contributors described how they’ve felt things like “is this dysphoria I’m feeling a gender thing or an asexuality thing,” or how figuring out their asexuality helped them explore their gender.

Asexuality and race:  In combination with LGBTQ+ spaces often being white-dominated, people of color often face stereotypes that hypersexualize or desexualize them.  This can have a strong impact on people of color’s experience and self-perception as asexual.  For instance, if you are writing Jon as Indian, you could consider how this may have impacted his experiences in LGBTQ spaces in university.  As there is no ‘one size fits all’ experience for aces of color, we strongly recommend researching for the particular background you have in mind.  We will be adding resource links to our main page shortly, but in the meantime check out the links in the reblog of this post!

INTIMACY AND RELATIONSHIPS

One of the topics addressed in our discussion was how a character’s asexuality may impact their experiences with intimacy and romantic relationships. Contributors discussed ways to portray this in fic, whether or not it includes sex or even mentions it.

Physical Intimacy

Intimacy, sensuality, and sex are separate things that may or may not overlap depending on the individual.  Contributors discussed how, for people across the ace spectrum, the relationship between these three tends to differ from common societal frameworks or depictions of intimacy in fiction.

Enjoying physical intimacy without the expectation that it will become sexual: massages, falling asleep on top of each other, bathing together, etc.

This includes acts that would often be expected to “lead somewhere” but don’t, such as lots of touching or nude cuddling.

Craving closeness/touch completely outside of sexual drive

One scenario suggested for this topic is an asexual character discovering that without the worry that an act of intimacy will ‘lead somewhere,’ they enjoy something they used to get anxious about, such as sharing a bed or showering together.

Boundaries & Communication

Stories with an asexual character in a relationship often address physical boundaries within that relationship.  The below are some of the scenarios contributors have enjoyed:

People communicating over their sexual boundaries, rather than assuming what these are as soon as they hear the word “asexual.”

The boundaries discussion being framed as something that any couple in a fictional relationship should have, not just because one is asexual.

In relationships between allo and ace characters, the allo character having boundaries of their own, rather than just the ace character.

Normalizing boundaries discussions for allo couples as well.

Note:  If a boundaries discussion involves a sex-favorable ace character, take caution at the risk of having them sound offended or derisive that the discussion is happening (e.g. “What, I’m not a child” or “Not all aces are like that.”).  Enforcing the idea that people should assume their partner is sex-interested is extremely harmful to sex-disinterested aces.

Some contributors noted that they prefer fics where the boundaries discussion is something that has taken place in the past, rather than run through at the beginning of each fic they read.  In these cases, this past discussion could be illustrated in the interaction itself: a character’s awareness of what lines not to cross, the other’s confidence and trust that those boundaries will be respected, and so on.

Issues of Intimacy Outside of Sex

While aversion to sex is the most well-known dimension of asexuality, there are other aversions and boundaries that could apply to either ace or allo characters:

Ace characters that are kiss-averse and/or touch-averse:  This also works against the “They won’t have sex, but they’ll make up for that with kissing even more!” trope that implies asexual people have to compensate for a nonsexual relationship.

Allo characters with their own aversions or specific boundaries: suggestions included how this can apply to trans characters.

Fluctuations in levels of aversion (note: it is important to not treat increased aversion as “progress” or decreased aversion as “regression”)

In cases of fluctuating aversion, characters developing ways to communicate these levels, and responding appropriately.  For example, “Kissing is not on the table right now, let’s move on to something more comfortable.”

Contributors were excited to discuss how this area could particularly be used for the allo partner of an ace character, such as an allo Martin having difficulties with touch post-Lonely, or discovering that he doesn’t enjoy kissing.

Relationships to Sex (or Lack Thereof)

Asexuality ‘subtypes’ are terms many aces describe their personal relationship with sex and/or sexual content.  These are simplified self-descriptors rather than rigid categories or mini-sexualities, and the terms rarely encompass the full detail of that relationship.  Please note that the below discussion assumes a general familiarity with ace subtypes.

Needless to say, aces across the spectrum and of every subtype want to see their identities represented in fic.  The discussion focused on ways to illustrate those experiences, and details contributors would enjoy seeing:

Non-averse aces trying sex and deciding they have no interest in it: pushing back against the “if you’re not repulsed you’ll like and want sex” idea.

No expectation that “sex-favorable” means always interested in sex.

The pressure an ace person may face to oversimplify their relationship to sex or sexual content out of fear they’ll appear inconsistent or exaggerating:  “If I’m okay with this now, what if I’m not later?  Will I seem picky if I’m only comfortable with something in an extremely specific scenario?”

“Sex repulsion” and “sex aversion” generally are used to describe asexual people who don’t want sex, but are simplified terms for what can be immensely varied experiences.  Someone could be repulsed by physical involvement in sex, repulsed by personally engaging in anything sexual, repulsed by sexual content, repulsed by just the idea of sex--or any variation or combination of these.  There are even repulsions that could be part of more sex-interested subtypes: an ace who enjoys sex but is repulsed by nudity, or an ace who enjoys sexual activities with a partner but not being touched during them, etc.

Contributors discussed how much they enjoy reading simple “I just don’t want sex” approaches to aversion/repulsion, but also look forward to reading explorations such as:

Enjoying one specific type of engagement with sexual content or activity, but having an aversion to others.

Regularly varying levels of repulsion: Days of “please don’t remind me sex exists” to days of mild curiosity, for instance.

Aces with a relationship to sex that doesn’t involve another person, including if they’re in a relationship.

Fluidity between ace subtypes can fluctuate between sex-interested and sex-disinterested in both directions: it can be both “I said I wasn’t interested in this before, but let’s carefully revisit” and “I know we’ve been doing this, but I’m no longer comfortable with it.”  Contributors mentioned never having seen fic with the latter, and expressed an interest in reading stories exploring this.

On this note, it is common for stories of fluidity between subtypes to be only moving in a more sex-interested direction.  Many asexual people, particularly sex-averse aces, face immense pressure to ‘learn how to like sex,’ or have their sexuality erased by saying they’re a ‘late bloomer’ who will learn to like it later.  Depicting this direction should be done with great care and nuance, and we strongly recommend getting feedback from a sex-disinterested sensitivity reader for stories of this type.  It’s possible that an ace reader who isn’t sex-disinterested would miss or not be affected by something that is quite painful to sex-disinterested aces.

CONCLUSION

If you’ve stuck with us for this long, well done! We understand that such a long resource can be a bit overwhelming, but we hope it can show you the depth of variety and enthusiasm ace readers have for more ace content and inspire you further.  One thing we all had in common during our discussion was how excited we were to have a canonically asexual protagonist, and how thrilled we were to see content that explored his asexuality.  In putting together this resource, we hope that you are encouraged to write about characters whose asexuality impacts their experiences and the story in unique, thoughtful, and creative ways.  We can’t wait to see what you come up with!

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? Part 2

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.1k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

It was your dream to convert a large warehouse on the outskirts of town into a home and education center for Hybrids. Somewhere they could learn to be self-sufficient. You would have professors and volunteers, teaching and fundraising, all for the day you could buy another warehouse on the other side of town. You wanted it to become the norm that these Hybrid facilities would build and grow in every city. Allowing the Hybrids to become an independent race no longer looked down upon by society.

You were on the last day of your heat and craving something savory. As it was late your best option was the convenience store that was always open late.

Things were falling into place as you received an email earlier that day confirming that all the items you had requested were acquired. That meant school books, equipment, and more. You were also granted the first loan for the Hybrids, a loan you would receive every term. The board wanted no less than five and no more than ten participants for an adequate examination of results.

You assumed for the program to be officially approved, you would have to show successful results from Hybrids with different backgrounds during this trial. That meant different ages and different upbringings. Wondering if it was worth visiting the adoption agency or perhaps a Hybrid store, it wouldn’t hurt for more variables.

Shaken from your thoughts by a shadowed figure rustling through the garbage, in a dark alley between the antiques and postal office. Your ears picked up the sound easily, feet scuffing to a halt on the pavement catching the Hybrid’s attention. Their eyes searched the dark for any sign of threat before falling upon you, a deep growl resonating on the wind. It was best to not get involved with stray Hybrids, they tended to be more violent. This is what you were doing the program for, to stop Hybrids from ending up homeless and on the streets. To prove that they aren’t dangerous and are capable of learning.

Struck by an idea, if you could get a Hybrid from the street to join the trial program, you could prove they weren’t violent and show that given the opportunity they could all learn and grow into members of society.

“Can I buy you dinner?” You called out, voice cracking from the cold. Your breath puffed out like smoke visible between you both. The night brought you more energy, it made you feel alive.

Cars passed, their headlights illuminating the entire alleyway and reflecting in his eyes a blood-red. He stalked forward, his body moving gracefully but you could see he was hurt, his shirt ripped and there was a strong scent of blood in the breeze. That was a downside to having heightened senses. You tried to control the disgusted look on your face, “I will pay and there is nothing else to it, just sit and have dinner with me, so I don’t look like a woman in her mid to late twenties eating alone at a convenience store”

He looked you up and down, it was then you noticed his features, he was a feline, not a common house cat. No, he was a big predator.

“Do I look like some charity case? Some pathetic creature who needs help from a human?” His words rumbled from his chest in a growl. You wanted to correct him that you weren’t exactly human yourself but decided against it. Stuck somewhere between Hybrid and human you didn’t fit in either category.

“What’s it to you? My reason is my reason, just take the free meal. Hell! Exploit me for a free meal, anything you want, go crazy.” You shrugged, trying desperately to charm him. He seemed to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning to walk away. You scrambled for your wallet and grabbed out twenty dollars, holding it out to him.

“Wait! At least take this; if you don’t want to eat with me, get something warm, and here is my card if ever you need help.”

He eyed the money but didn’t move to take it. Hoping he wouldn’t rip your arm off, you grabbed his hand. You knew it was risky. His fingers were cold, but you didn’t want to linger and make him mad, quickly placing the money on his palm with your business card.

“Have a good night, mister,” He nodded confused about the whole encounter, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving. It seemed even if you tried your best, it wouldn’t be enough to persuade him. He was too defensive, the best you could hope for was that he would stay safe in the cold.

What trials and tribulations must you go through to have these Hybrids trust and confide in you? Hopefully, it wouldn’t be this hard to get through to the group of Hybrids you were soon to obtain.

This was going to be a rather difficult experiment and you weren’t sure if it was going to go well but you hoped with every fiber of your being that you would see this through for the sake of the Hybrids.

That night you dreamed about the group of participants being hostile and unresponsive to the program, it did little to soothe your nerves the next morning. When you received an email about the new house. Jimin would have the key and would meet you outside later that day with the other Hybrids. No matter who they were, you were going to make sure they were achieving the best result they could.

The government had registered two Hybrids in your name, their files attached to the confirmation email. The two participants were so contrasting, Hoseok was a deer Hybrid, from a small farming family. The other was a Lion Hybrid by the name of Namjoon. He was from New Zealand and had participated in another government program regarding genius Hybrids.

Altogether, there were four: Namjoon the genius, Hoseok the country bumpkin, Taehyung, and Jimin. You decided to look for possible participants within the Hybrid store, and rehoming center. That would give you a wide variety of variables for the experiment; each would have a different background and would require different tools to help them.

You started at the nearest Hybrid shop. There were several rooms each with an observation window, a photo card, and a brief description of the Hybrid sitting, reading or playing video games inside. It was such a small space, how could they live in these tiny rooms every day until someone adopted them. Reading their descriptions by the windows you analyzed each of them, your attention caught by one playing video games. He had dark ears that stuck out from his dark hair. He seemed fun and you thought it would be easy to connect with him.

Hello, My name is Jungkook, I am twenty-three and I am a fully vaccinated Melanistic Jaguar.

You didn’t bother reading the rest, thinking you would like to learn about him properly, “Sir, I would like to adopt this Hybrid,” You declared, whilst walking towards the counter to begin the paperwork. Once everything was signed the young Jaguar boy was led from his small room. He looked nervous holding a small store backpack filled with all his essential items.

On the drive to the next location, you were the one doing most of the talking, receiving quiet one-word answers and small fidgets. He seemed excited when you finally parked the car, you guessed he was eager to see his new home.

However, as you walked towards the menacing rehoming center, he grew quieter and quieter, slowing to a stop before the entrance. Looking at his feet crying profusely, you realized how this must look. He must have thought he had done something wrong, how could he think you would buy him and rehome him on the same day.

“Jungkook, I am not abandoning you, I am picking up a brother for you to play with.” It took a few moments to console the young man. Wiping his tears and giving him a few pats on the head careful of his ears.

Deciding anyone younger than Jungkook would be too much to handle. “You have to help me find a big brother, someone you think will be really nice and that you like to play with, what do you think? Can you do that for me?”

Jungkook nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Okay, I can do that,”

The inside of the rehoming center smelt like disinfectant, you explained you were looking for another Hybrid and were led to a large room. There were Hybrids of all ages all playing and entertaining themselves with different activities.

It was overwhelming even for you, so you grasped Jungkook’s hand and encouraged him to look around, “Hey, what about ping pong?” You grinned at Jungkook who smiled playing a few rounds with you, the two of you giggling.

“Have I told you I am the ping pong master,” an older Hybrid grinned, he had a striped tail. You handed over the paddle and stood near Jungkook. “Do you want to play a game?”

Jungkook nodded, was this boy unable to say no. Either way, the two were getting along quickly, the older Hybrid was very playful and funny, even as he lost you were holding your sides from the laughter and Jungkook seemed to grow really comfortable with him.

Talking to one of the volunteers she explained that Seokjin was a raccoon hybrid and the oldest in the center. She explained that he often took the younger hybrids under his wing. It was an easy decision to adopt him. While you were filling out the paperwork, Jungkook was telling you all about his match with Seokjin.

“And I got the winning shot,” He grinned, swinging his arm like he was hitting an invisible ping pong ball.

“He seems really fun, would he make a good big brother?” It was cute how he nodded wholeheartedly. “Jungkook why don’t you go tell him that he is coming home with us?”

He grew embarrassed again, his dark ears twitching but followed the volunteer nonetheless. You were quick to finish up the last of the paperwork before the two came back laughing volunteer in tow.

“Unbelie-Bubble” Seokjin said before squeaking in laughter. He had all of his things and like Jungkook was nervous, but he showed it through talking.

You felt good with your selection, there was a Hybrid for every walk of life and socio-economic background. This would be perfect for the trial. They all seemed like lovely young Hybrids and you could already see them forming friendships.

It was on your way out that you saw a familiar face struggling against Hybrid control. “This is your last time, you know what happens to strays.”

“Wait!” You shouted, everyone in the lobby froze turning to look at you, the cold room felt quite warm with all of the attention “He is mine”

They froze looking between you and the hybrid before letting him go curiously. The injured Hybrid staggered over to you, knowing this was his best chance at survival, “why didn’t you tell them my name?” you asked him curiously but he kept his head down.

“This white tiger Hybrid is yours?” The handler spoke in disbelief, practically accusing you of lying. “why is he not microchipped, or registered in our system?”

“I was supposed to register him last week when I got him but I had been busy with work, I would like to properly register him under my name today,” You didn’t break under this man's pressure, you could notice the more he held eye contact the more he seemed to falter himself. “so that you will stop taking him in when he is harmlessly walking the streets”

The man opened his mouth to argue but you blinked up at him, watching him lower his hand.

“I am so sorry miss, we didn't mean to cause you trouble?” It wasn’t exactly odd behavior, you often found your arguments nullifying this way. You liked to think that your self-confident stare was what made people give in.

“Miss we have just noticed some suspicious activity in your account it says you have adopted four Hybrids today,” The woman behind the desk said, “We are legally required to ask your intentions or we can detain the Hybrids from you”

Almost questioning her, you remembered the government was placing two Hybrids in your name; they would be arriving today as well. With a smile you removed a folder from your bag, “I have a grant from the government.” You said brandishing the signed document, “I will be placing these Hybrids in my care”

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Tags:  @simplymemyself @lolsiiike (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

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[gh0st-patr0l]

ADHD in DSMP

So about a week back, I made a post about Karl Jacobs (a bit of a passive aggressive one, I’ll admit, but I think it was justified), complaining that a lot of the ‘criticism’ I see about Karl is actually rather insensitive towards his ADHD. I got a lot of responses to that post, and the most common sources of confusion I saw were:

People not understanding what I was saying they should avoid being judgmental of, or-

People who didn’t know that Karl had ADHD or didn’t understand which behaviors were caused by it.

First of all, Karl has confirmed that he has ADHD.

(NOTE: Yes, I know he said ADD. ADD and ADHD used to be categorized as separate disorders, but in the most recent edition of the DSM, it was decided that they are both simply subtypes of the same disorder- ADHD is the correct technical term. ADD is still sometimes used as shorthand by some practitioners to diagnose primarily-inattentive ADHD, but it's a bit outdated.)

Secondly, that original post made me realize that a lot of people who may be well-meaning may genuinely not fully understand ADHD and its symptoms as well as they want to or think they might. If you aren’t aware, Karl isn’t the only one in the DSMP with ADHD- to my understanding, both Technoblade and Dream have confirmed that they have it as well. So, I thought it would be helpful to put together a comprehensive crash-course on ADHD symptoms and how they effect people’s behavior!

Now, before we go further, I want to address something- as I said earlier, I saw some people unsure of whether certain behaviors are ADHD or “just his personality”. I feel the need to point this out above the read more so people will see it. To answer this question, as someone with ADHD;

A lot of times, it’s both. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, meaning that it’s caused by the way your brain developed from birth. A lot of the symptoms and effects of ADHD are extremely influential towards the way we think, act, and behave, to the point where “symptoms” and “normal behavior” really don’t have a clean differentiation. This is why it’s technically classified as a ‘disorder’, instead of an illness. While certain aspects of it can require treatment, the condition itself as a whole is not something to be mitigated or eliminated- it’s a part of who we are as a person. This is also why sometimes, even if you don’t have ADHD, you’ll look at certain specific behaviors or experiences and go “Oh, but I do that too!”. A lot of ADHD ‘symptoms’ are just a bunch of normal traits or behaviors, but in combination with each other and some actually problematic aspects, form the appearance of the disorder.

So, what are you allowed to nitpick about it? Well, there’s no real ‘authority’ on this, and even if there was it certainly wouldn’t be me. But if you want my opinion? Nothing.

See, here’s the thing- what I was trying to say when I made that post was not that you can’t be critical of Karl. If you want to say something about his Actions, his Ideals, or the content he creates- sure, go for it, that’s fair. I will agree that there are some very valid and constructive points to be made. But when you post ‘criticism’ about the way he speaks, his interests or preoccupations, his personal behaviors? That’s not criticism. That’s just judging someone.

And you’re allowed to think that stuff! Nobody can control what annoys or bothers them. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But you don’t need to be vocal about it. You can keep your mean thoughts to yourself. And if you do make posts or communities or whatever about judging someone for things they can’t change about themselves, don’t call it “criticism” or try to morally justify it. It’s not productive or righteous, it’s just rude. Nothing else.

Anyway. Back to Education!

The following will be a descriptive list of visible ADHD behaviors, using Karl’s behavior as examples.

I feel the need to add a disclaimer here- I am not a mental health professional. However! I have ADHD myself, I have taken some psychology courses and done a Lot of research into this stuff, and I’m the daughter of a therapist with access to a DSM. While I’m not an expert, I’d like to think I’m fairly well versed and knowledgeable on at least ADHD. (That being said, if by chance anyone who Is a professional sees this post and notices mistakes, by all means let me know and I’ll fix it!!)

WHAT IS ADHD?

You’re here for the behaviors more than the science, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. ADHD is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (Known in the past as Attention Deficit Disorder). Despite its name, the root problem of ADHD is not in the person’s ability to pay attention, but their brain’s capability to manage itself. In simple terms, people with ADHD have a lot less control over what their brain does and wants. This results in some behavioral differences along with some personal challenges, namely a difficulty with attentiveness and self-discipline.

Now, onto the symptoms!

ATTENTION

This is perhaps the most visible and pervasive of the ADHD symptoms, hence why it’s the namesake. Inattention is a lack of focus and an inability to stay present and occupied with certain tasks or thoughts.

Because ADHD impairs self-management of the brain, people with it have an extremely hard time directing themselves anywhere but where their brain instinctively wants to go. This results in inattentiveness and the easiness of distraction that is often mocked or stereotyped for people with ADHD.

Here are some examples of how Karl can sometimes display his inattentiveness;

When he has an idea that he seems passionate about, only to drop it or switch to something totally different without warning soon after (either forgetting or getting bored of his original idea).

When he sets out to do something like a build, works on it for a short amount of time, and then immediately gives up or gets someone else to do it.

When someone else is talking and he totally zones out. (NOTE: While I wont make a whole section for it because it’s not easily observable, maladaptive (constant and intrusive) daydreaming is a common ADHD symptom as well!)

It’s important to remember that the whole problem with ADHD is that we can’t control when or what we focus on. When someone with ADHD zones out during a conversation or activity, it doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, and they likely don’t mean any offense! We often are trying our best to listen or participate, but our brain just wont cooperate.

However, inattention is not the only way ADHD effects our focus. There’s also what’s called hyperfocus or hyperfixation, which is when we are so absorbed into a single subject, task, or idea that it is extremely difficult to get us to think about or do anything else. This is usually because our brains have found something that is getting those satisfaction chemicals flowing, and it’s clinging to that with everything it’s got.

People with ADHD will often experience brief periods of hyperfocus. Think of how Karl talks about spending hours straight working on a build or project without eating or drinking, or how he’ll sit down to play a game with someone and end up going six hours without even noticing.

There are also hyperfixations, where someone with ADHD becomes extremely preoccupied with a certain subject, topic, etc. for a period of time. These can be short term- personally, my hyperfixation can sometimes change as quickly as a couple weeks at a time. However, it can also be long term. Karl has been obsessed with Survivor since the second grade- not to mention his memorabilia, rambling, and constant references to Kingdom Hearts.

HYPERACTIVITY/STIMMING

This is a BIG one for Karl. I should clarify; ‘stimming’ is not a technical term, and in professional situations these behaviors are just referred to as Hyperactivity. However, I personally like the term stimming much more and find it far more accurate to what the behaviors actually are, so I’ll be using that instead for this post.

If you’re not already familiar, ‘stimming’ (derived from ‘stimulation’) is an unofficial term used to describe consistent and abnormal patterns of physical and vocal behavior typically expressed by people with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This includes things that people usually call fidgets or tics.

(NOTE: There are differences in how people with those two disorders stim. This post will explain stimming specifically from an ADHD perspective! ASD stimming is caused by very different factors and presents itself in much different ways. Do your own research if you’re curious!) 

There are two major observable forms of stimming- physical and vocal. Karl expresses both VERY often! I’ll use examples for each type;

Physical Stims: Flapping his hands/arms, jumping up and down when he’s excited, twisting around into odd positions in his chair, throwing, hitting, or tapping things, standing up and pacing around when he’s hyped up or laughing, twisting his rings, etc.

Vocal Stims: When he gets excited and repeats a certain phrase incessantly (Think any variation of “I’m popping off”), making certain repetitive noises while he’s focused on something or bored (”la la la”, the meow-noises, the weird heart-beat noise, etc.), singing or humming, tongue clicking.

It should be noted here that it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to get “stuck” on certain phrases or noises, and be unable to stop repeating them (reminiscent of echolalia, a symptom of ASD, but not the same thing). Think of how Karl might sometimes keep making a weird noise for an extended period of time even though it’s not that funny, or that one time he was physically struggling to keep himself from singing the Bakugan theme. These repetitions are completely impulsive and trust me, we usually know how annoying it is while we’re doing it, but we physically cannot stop.

ADHD stims are caused by the fact that the barrier between our brain and body is much weaker than a normal person’s. Because of this, most ADHD stims are actually very positive expressions of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm! Y’know how when you get excited, you feel like you wanna jump or dance? The ‘hyperactivity’ of ADHD is basically just that, but we don’t have the self-control to Not do it.

Stims can be caused by negative feelings like overstimulation, but in ADHD this is not nearly as common. Usually, the most negative reason we’ll stim is when we’re bored- in that case, our brain isn’t getting the Constant Stimulation that it naturally wants, so stimming is a way to make our own.

Whatever the cause, stimming is natural and impulsive. While different people experience it to varying degrees, those who regularly stim typically have little to no control over it. Suppressing stims is very hard and very frustrating to do.

Besides that, like I said- ADHD stims are often an expression of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm. They’re a beautiful thing that shouldn’t be seen as shameful or annoying!

BEHAVIORAL DIFFICULTIES

ADHD is a disorder which causes a lack of self-control. Naturally, this means that people with ADHD are inherently reckless, impulsive, and struggle with a lack of self-discipline that they cannot fix.

Of course, people with ADHD do still have some level of self-control, and they are still responsible for conscious, long-term behavioral patterns and decisions. However, in regards to most things, they are much, much less capable of controlling themselves than an average neurotypical person is.

These are some examples of how this will often present itself in Karl;

Excessive rambling, dragging on a joke or conversation when it could and should probably have been dropped, etc.

Speaking over or interrupting other people (NOTE: As someone with ADHD- THIS IS ALMOST ALWAYS UNINTENTIONAL. I know it can seem rude or annoying but I promise, 90% of the time if someone with ADHD talks over you, they either didn’t realize or physically couldn’t help it. Please try to be patient!)

Lack of awareness towards social cues (NOTE: Unlike ASD, in which the person is incapable of/has problems fully understanding social cues, ADHD results in a lack of awareness. For whatever reason, we’re often just not paying close enough attention to pick up on things like body language, tone of speech, and facial expression as well as we would normally.)

Indecisiveness and overthinking

Bluntness, lack of subtlety

Unintentional dismissiveness, accidentally ignoring things/people (NOTE: Again, this behavior is purely accidental. In this case, it’s usually just the person genuinely not hearing or processing things.)

Making noises, speaking, joking, etc. at inappropriate times

There’s probably more, but I think you get the idea by now. A lot of the time, behavior which results from ADHD can be seen as rude, lazy, dismissive, or otherwise intentionally harmful. In reality, we just aren’t wired to navigate common social interaction with grace.

In Karl’s case, he’s clearly an incredibly sweet, empathetic, and kind-hearted person, if the various close friends who have talked about him are to be believed. Just because he talks over people or makes a poorly timed joke, that doesn’t mean he meant any harm. 

I think that’s about it for how much I wanted to point out! You can do more research if you’re curious, but I feel like this post should be enough to tell you what to keep in mind and be understanding about when talking about/making judgements on Karl, and other people with ADHD.

[ceridwyn2]

This may seem like a stupid (and unpopular with some) question, with AO3, is there a way to filter out some writers in search results? I’m doing a search through a particular fandom (no, not stating which one, as I’ve seen it across more than just one fandom) at the moment, and there is a lot of crap there amongst the good gems. I’m picky when I read fanfic 😅 , and a lot of times I don’t have time to wade through hundreds/thousands of stories to look for the good ones.

By the way, this ended up being a lot longer than I originally intended 😂 as I was thinking it through. What I like in the stories I read as follows:

A) Be grammatically correct

B) Spelling correct

C) Sentence & paragraph structure correct. Dialogue for each character in separate paragraphs.

D) Point of View: maintain one person’s point of view either for the whole scene or whole story. Especially important if stories are written in first person (I/My/Me) or second person (You/Them/They). These stories are often harder to write and maintain throughout well. If it’s first person, you’re only writing from one character’s point of view: on how *I* see/hear/experience the things around *me*. *I* don’t/can’t know what the other characters are thinking/feeling other than what *I* see/observe in their behaviour, unless they tell *me* what they think/feel. Writing in second person is equally difficult to maintain unless you’re very skilled at it. You’re writing as though your addressing the reader/person directly, as if you know them personally, intimately (does not need to be sexually) by using *you*. / Example: You love to write; you should do it more often. / If you’re of a certain age and remember the ‘choose your own adventure’ child/young adult books of the 70s-90s, they were in a person point of view.

Majority of fanfiction, and fiction in general is written in third person. Third person is like you’re the audience watching a tv show/film/play/book. You’re a non-active participant of what is happening and cannot affect the direction or outcome of the story. The primary subject of the scene is referred to by their name or rank and their pronoun(s), and is often the first character mentioned at/near beginning of the scene / Example: DCI Cassie Stewart walked into the incident room of her Historic Cases Unit, with a quick glance at her officers before heading into her office. It wasn’t long before her second in command, DS Sunil Khan, or Sunny, as he preferred, wrapped on the glass window pane of her office door. / That scene is dictated from her point of view, how she directs those around her and how those around her interact with her. Had it been slightly different, but same scenario: /DS Sunil Khan looked up as the door to the Historic Cases Unit opened and saw his boss, DCI Stewart, make her way to her office, glancing at the team as she did. Having got some new leads on their current case overnight, Sunny headed towards her office to notify her ahead of the day’s briefing. / This obviously changes whose point of view is the primary for that scene to Sunil.

Third person It allows the writer to explore different perspectives and viewpoints of different characters to move the story forward. However, that being said, to avoid reader confusion, pick one character - a main character, supporting character, or a villain - as the primary character of that scene and stick with their focus/perspective for the duration of a scene/chapter. If you want to express multiple character’s reactions or points of view to a specific same scene (like say a team of detectives coming onto a murder scene) and if it makes sense to do so, you can write the scenes same but different as each character will have their own take on what they saw/perceived/when they entered/exited the scene - but each character that you’re writing about will have a separate section, separated by punctuation marks, above and below the change of perspective. However, that can easily come across as too repetitive for the reader. Might be best to put that in a notes page each scene of how each sees the same scene - because you as the audience can visualise the characters as being there, when they arrived and what they observed. When you write the scene, write it from one character’s point of view, but as you have the other characters interacting with them, they can comment on what they saw observed, contributing to the overall pieces of information, without repetition, unless it contradicts or adds to a specific point being made.

E) Age correlateable. By which I mean, if someone’s going to write about established characters that are in their 40s, 50s, etc., their life experiences, maturity, have them act/respond to each other as such. I have read stories - or rather attempted to - but the mental maturity of the author was showing through characters in their 40s, 50s, and it was obvious the writer hasn’t grasped that maturity of the characters. Listen to the character’s voices (what they’re saying, how they’re saying, even what they’re not saying but expressing visually) you’re writing about. This really comes out when writing arguments and sex scenes, btw.

F) Physical/mental characteristics: If a character has an illness or physical disability, or like affecting joints or paralysed limbs, amputations, or anything that affects movement, be aware of that, esp if writing a sex scene (a whole other rabbit hole of bad writing exists there, see next item). If in an argument, you’re trying to express the character throwing something in anger, like a mug/glass, etc., for example, and the character has an injured/disabled arm, their strength to throw is going to be limited. Show the character’s frustration that the action they wanted had less effect at releasing that anger/frustration. If the character has a visual (partial or full blindness) or auditory disability (eg. hard of hearing, deafness in one or both ears, over-sensitive to sound/volume), take that into account. Esp in arguments, if one of the people in the scene has a tendency to mumble, they may not be understood as words run together are not easily decipherable either by sound or lip reading. Mental health /illness (eg PTSD /complex PTSD [cPTSD], depression, anxiety affects physical health responses. If the characters have mental health disorders, be aware and maintain that continuity through the story. Don’t need to mention it all the time but be aware it can affect movement/physical responses, behaviour. And unless you’re House, you don’t need to include every odd, weird, very rare symptom he seems to need to diagnose something for the character 😂 .

G) Sex scenes: some are done so well that it’s seamless and flows well with the other parts of the story, where the intimacy blends well. Others, very much no so. Unless it’s a specifically written PWP (plot, what plot) story, and those can work when written well. Trust me, I’ve read otherwise well-written stories ruined by a sex scene that reads like a bad porn with characters that otherwise had physical limitation(s) in the rest of the story but were suddenly able to pull off manoeuvres of someone 20 years younger and fully able-bodied. Like someone just tacked on an explicit sex scene on that didn’t mesh with the story as if they were two completely different people that happened to have the same names as the ones in the rest of the story.

H) Continuity. Whether your story is short or long, be aware of where your characters are/what they’re doing. Having a sense of timing. Helpful to have a notepad (digital or paper) sometimes to keep track of movement. They can’t be in two concurrent scenes at the same time. Passing off information between the characters; don’t assume one character (or group of characters) knows what the other(s) are doing, unless they are in contact with each other (visual/audio/both/text). Cause/effect. Action/reaction. There may be delayed effects or reactions (over scenes/chapters), but reference them back to the original cause or action and why there was a delay. For example, somebody witnesses or experiences a tragedy, war, fire, sexual assault, accident, or other traumatic experience, and it triggers a delayed emotional or physical response hours, days, months, years later. The character may or may not be able to explain to their partner, colleague, friend what it was that caused effect/reaction. Similarly, following onto earlier example of a thrown glass/mug/vase, if it smashes there could be subsequent injury from ceramic/glass/etc. like a cut finger/palm of hand if picking up the pieces/cleaning the mess. So maybe it requires a bandage or wrap. Continuity would include making further grasping of things discomforting or painful, maybe a comment from another person inquiring what happened later on if they’re noticing a bandage that wasn’t there the last time they saw them.

I) Alternate Universe stories. I don’t mind AUs when done right - so that even if the characters are placed in a different setting, their general personality traits are very recognizable. I’ve read quite a few that nail this perfectly. Others, not so much. When it works, it works. Otherwise it’s just slapping familiar names onto original fic just to get more eyes on a story.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Company Upgrade Dates (Eng Translation)

🍒This post contains detailed spoilers for dates unreleased in English servers!🍒

I accidentally skipped the first set of Season 2 dates, the “Company Upgrade” Collection, thinking they were just Rumours & Secrets:

These dates are important as a starting point for future S2 dates! They are mostly in bullet-point form, but all plot points and important dialogue are covered ❤️

⚡️ Shaw’s Way Home Date (归路之约) ⚡️

MC arrives at Loveland City airport after a business trip and receives a text from Shaw stating that he’d be picking her up 

(even though she didn’t give him any details of her flight)

He appears, in all his glory, on a skateboard

Shaw picks up her luggage and also shows genuine concern for her work and how tired she looks

MC: I can carry it myself.

As soon as I stretch out my hand, Shaw spins the luggage around in a circle so I can’t reach it.

Shaw: If you carry it yourself, I wouldn’t have any purpose for coming here.

DELICIOUS BANTER

MC: Oh right, why did you think of picking me up?

Shaw: It was along on the way. Or I did it on a whim. Whatever reason you like.

MC: ...

Even after a week of not seeing him, this brat’s words are still as annoying.

MORE DELICIOUS BANTER

MC: Don’t you have class in the afternoon today?

Shaw: There’s class, but I skipped it.

MC: It’s not good to skip classes.

Shaw: It isn’t good, so I informed the teacher beforehand.

MC: Eh? What did you say?

Shaw: I said that I hadn’t seen my girlfriend in a month, so I want to pick her up.

MC: What...!?

Hearing this, my heartbeat goes into a frenzy.

Shaw: You really believed me?

Shaw asks MC to cook him dinner as thanks for travelling the great distance to pick her up

They return home by subway, but it’s incredibly packed

Shaw pulls her to a corner

My back leans against the wall of the train carriage. Standing in front of me, Shaw places a hand on the wall beside me, separate me from the crowd.

MC: What are you doing?

Shaw: Can’t you see?

He lifts his other hand and places it onto the wall of the train carriage, encircling me with this pose, which is reminiscent of a hug. He creates an empty corner in the crowded train. 

She falls asleep, and he holds onto her shoulders so she doesn’t sway

Shaw: Hey. We’re going to miss the stop. If you don’t wake up soon, I’ll have to carry you back.

MC: !!

After they leave the train:

MC: I didn’t think I’d actually fall asleep.

I turn and sneak a glance at Shaw’s side profile. He senses my gaze and meets my eyes.

Shaw: Not only that. You even drooled.  

MC: N-no way...

I hurriedly look at his shoulders, but can’t see any traces of dampness. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

MC: Is it very fun to lie to me?

Shaw: It’s your fault for having such interesting reactions.

At home, Shaw wolfs down her cooking. It turns out he was busy and didn’t have lunch T^T

He even helps tidy and wash the dishes for her

Afterwards, she finds him in the balcony and asks what he has been busy with

Shaw brushes them off as “unimportant things”

MC suddenly says she wants to hear him play the bass

Shaw re-enters the house and brings out an erhu instead (since MC doesn’t have a bass)

Shaw makes the erhu play her name and a “you are stupid”

MC: Why are you scolding me?

I suddenly feel a little gloomy, but he continues playing a few notes. Even though my mind hasn’t figured it out yet, my heart beat speeds up.

Shaw: Do you understand?

Shaw puts down the musical instrument and crosses the handrail over to me.

The dim light from behind the curtains is reflected in his eyes, as though filled with unwavering momentum.

Shaw: You have a really slow reaction.

Accompanying his ridicule, what enters my ears is the rumble of thunder from the clear sky.

Shaw straightens up, and his corners of his mouth hook upwards.

Shaw: It’s going to rain.

-

Shaw’s Call: here

-

🌻 Kiro’s Show Date (戏中之约) 🌻

This date basically shows how MC and Kiro share a very light-hearted relationship, where he likes teasing her

MC is at the scene of Kiro’s filming location, and comments on how realistic the effects are

Kiro is filming a gunfight, and the atmosphere is very tense

The famous Kiro Pointing A Gun At Himself™ scene occurs as part of the filming

Kiro: Since we can only pick between one of us, take my life, and you’ll be safe. It’s nothing worth being surprised over. There’s only one person who I’m willing to exchange my life for. So, tell me your answer.

There is mockery and paranoia in his eyes, but not a trace of fear.

It’s as though he already knows the other party’s choice... even if his bet is wrong, he will continue enjoying this game.

Even if death is what awaits him at the end.

Director: OK, cut!

Kiro’s seamless performance garners applause from the audience

After that, Kiro and MC head to an open air restaurant

Kiro what choice MC would make if she were the protagonist of the show and one of them has to die

MC: I’ll change the script, so the both of us can live.

Kiro keeps teasing her e.g. eating her half-eaten biscuit

She suddenly hears a loud sound, and she grabs Kiro’s hand

There are a series of explosions below as part of the special effects from the filming site

Kiro: Even though almost everything you saw today was artificial, you can remember the me of right now. The me in front of you is the real me.

I turn back to Kiro, who looks at me at the same time. His fingers are on the back of my hand. The temperature and touch are extremely real.

And the memories belonging to us will always remain in this real moment.

-

Kiro’s Call: here

-

🌹 Victor’s Secret Date (隐秘之约) 🌹

MC wakes up and finds herself in an unknown underground facility. From the unknown voices in the beginning, it’s clear she wasn’t the target of the kidnap

Victor is with her too, and they briefly go through what happened beforehand: MC and Victor were on their way to the carpark at around 7pm after going through a report

The doors aren’t locked, and they aren’t tied up

Victor: I’ll give you five minutes to adjust your state of mind.

His sentence, which came out of nowhere, startles me slightly.

Looking at his expressionless face, I suddenly realise something and laugh.

Victor: What are you laughing at?

MC: Are you... concerned about me?

Victor: ...instead of asking unrelated questions, spend your time on something useful. You still have 4 minutes and 8 seconds.

Victor gets her to check the area right outside the door. When she returns, Victor tells her to stay close to him, and grabs on to her

He reveals that he can no longer see

Despite his temporary blindness, he’s very calm

He speculates that the reason why they’re here is to keep Victor away from an auction taking place the day after they got kidnapped (which is the present moment)

Victor hands her his cuffs, which are actually electronic transceivers

MC: Boss, actually... you can give me a direct order to bring you out of here. This place looks like an abandoned experiment site, so...

I leave the remaining speculations in my heart. The people who threw us here... did they do it just to prevent Victor from participating in the auction?

We’re surrounded by darkness. I hold the electronic transceiver to find the exit.

Victor follows behind me, sometimes pointing out the correct direction.

MC: Victor, are you sure you really can’t see? Is this just a test for me...

Victor: ...you’re the one who is testing me. Do you want to get hit and become even more stupid?

He gently pulls me to his side, preventing me from turning around and hitting the wall in front.

Victor: After walking for such a long time, you still don’t know the approximate distance?

MC: Right now, I think you might be able to make it in time for the auction.

Victor: Being optimistic is good, but...

Suddenly, they hear someone walking around and shouting extremely loudly

Victor uses his palms to cover MC’s ears <3

MC musters her courage, stops herself from trembling, and finds a place for them to hide

Right now, there’s no time to figure out who this person is. No matter what, I can’t let Victor get hurt here.

I promised him once before.

The sound of the footsteps eventually disappear

MC: You weren’t worried that I’d accidentally bring us to that insane person?

Pulling Victor into a dark corner, I do my best to adjust my breathing, and force my voice not to tremble.

Victor: Since I said that I’d trust you, I wouldn’t doubt you.

Victor guesses that the people who brought them here aren’t out for their lives, or they wouldn’t be allowed to roam freely

MC then wonders why they had to blind Victor, and points out that the man just now seemed deranged. She guesses that it’s a result of simply being in the underground facility. Someone wanted him to know about the existence of the facility, but not give further details

MC: I have a question, but I’m not sure if I should bring it up.

Victor: There will be Arab merchants bringing new reagents to the auction. They contain certain special elements.

MC: I haven’t even asked.

Victor: Was my answer wrong?

I smile secretly, lowering my eyes to look at our overlapping hands.

MC: You answered wrongly. I wanted to say that even the dignified CEO of LFG can get kidnapped in such a confusing manner, and even get his eyes hurt.

Victor: If you want to obtain a precious prey, you need to prepare a cherished bait.

MC: Could it be...

Victor: That auction is also a bait.

At 7pm, there’s a signal from the electronic transceiver, and they leave the underground facility

Security reaches the scene, and Goldman comes rushing over

Victor sends a few men to the facility to investigate

Victor asks MC to follow him, and it’s clear that he doesn’t want anyone to know of his temporary blindness

MC watches as Victor successfully clips on his seatbelt:

Victor: I’m able to feel it.

MC: ...I wasn’t looking at you!

MC wonders where they’re heading to since they’re late for the auction. Victor tells her that they’re going to a winery

When she looks at the rearview mirror, she sees that the place they were at has caught on fire

MC: Did you already sense that something was amiss with the auction?

Victor: Mm. That Arab merchant is just a guise. Behind him is a private arms organisation. They used the Arab merchant just to gauge the interest level for their reagent.

MC: Didn’t you say it was an auction you needed to attend?

Victor: They just wanted to ensure good faith.

MC: And there’s no need now?

Victor: Now, there is a different way to show my sincerity.

Once they reach the winery, Victor hands MC a gun

Victor: Can I continue trusting you?

MC: You have no other choice.

In the winery, the merchant tries to push the reagent to Victor

Merchant: Does CEO Victor have doubts regarding the efficacy of the medicine? It has already gone through tests, and it can...

Victor: I need to doubt medicine that causes mental breakdowns when injected?

Merchant: ...

Victor: I’m not interested in your medicine. The thing I want is your newly mined ore field. All of it. I don’t need technical staff.

Merchant: CEO Victor’s transaction seems to be overly greedy.

Victor: I’ve said it before - I’m uninterested in your defective products. Apart from LFG, no other company can meet your capital needs.

Merchant: Aren’t you being too confident? The world is pretty big. Maybe the STF can give us similar support.

Victor: In that case, you better ensure your safety and leave Loveland City before obtaining their support. One thing LFG doesn’t lack is business partners. Meeting you personally is enough to express my sincerity.

The transaction is completed

They head to LFG, and Victor tells her to drive back

BRACE YOURSELF FOR A CUTE SCENE:

MC: Victor, I’ll send you upstairs.

Victor: No need.

MC: Your eyes...

Victor: I’ll handle it, don’t worry. You did very well today. I owe you a favour.

Victor doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He opens the car door and heads towards the main entrance of LFG.

I release a secret sigh and hastily leave the car to walk to his side.

MC: That’s the side entrance. The side entrance of LFG doesn’t open at night.

Victor: ...do you know LFG better than I do?

Switching his direction, he walks confidently towards the railing near the main entrance.

I hurriedly grab onto his sleeve in order to make this brave man stop.

The night has softened his cold edges. His shoulders are straight. Ever since what happened with his eyes, he hasn’t uttered a single word of frustration.

Perhaps he’d never say such words.

Sensing my quietness, Victor lets out a soft sigh. He turns his head slightly, then closes his eyes in resignation.

Victor: Since you want to be responsible, take responsibility till the end. Before my day lights up, don’t think of leaving.

-

Victor’s Call: here

-

🦋 Lucien’s Bondage Date (束缚之约) 🦋

MC receives a call from the newest member of Black Swan. He proudly proclaims that he has caught a “big fish” who has agreed to provide important information only if MC personally goes to the interrogation room

She receives a photo of the “big fish” - it’s Lucien.

And she knows something is amiss because Lucien isn’t someone who would get caught so easily

When she reaches the interrogation room, Lucien is tied up and injured

Even so...

His smile and posture are not those of a caged prisoner. Instead, it’s as though he’s waiting in the dark for his prey to enter a trap...

A successful hunter.

Lucien: What’s wrong? You’re not happy to see me like this? Just now, someone mentioned that... I’m a surprise prepared for you.

I clench my teeth hard, and exert more strength as I grip the iron cage.

MC: ...are you okay?

Lucien: Are you showing concern for me?

MC: I just want to know what exactly you’re planning.

Lucien: I don’t quite understand Miss MC’s meaning. Shouldn’t you tell me what you’re planing to do with me, since you were the one who made me like this?

MC: You...

MC clarifies that she didn’t know Lucien would be brought here

Lucien keeps toying with her so she snaps

MC: Professor Lucien, I think you can clearly see the situation before you. Right now, you are a “guest” invited by Black Swan. If you want to get out, you have to prove your worth. If you don’t give us something of equivalent value, we won’t let you leave.

Lucien: Equivalent value... you make sense. In that case, what do you want then? Perhaps with more specific questions, I can give you more satisfactory answers.

MC: ...I’m not a student who’s asking you questions!

Lucien: My student would never be so fierce towards me. I’m already like this, and you still don’t believe my sincerity? I’ve thought of a piece of secret information you may be interested in. This matter involves Black Swan and core members of the STF, and it’s a secret I’ve been keeping.

MC: Lucien, are you being serious?

Lucien: It would be revealed sooner of later. Knowing it earlier could be of some help to you. If you want to know, come closer to me.

I freeze involuntarily, casting a glance at the single-sided glass separating us from the surveillance room.

Lucien: As a representative of Black Swan, shouldn’t you show me some good faith if you want the information?

She goes closer to him, but he keeps toying with her e.g. telling her that he’s cold so she should come closer to warm him up. Finally, he speaks.

Lucien: Actually, I have an arrangement with someone in Black Swan.

MC: What you mean by “arrangement”? An agent you planted?

Lucien: If you put it that way, I can't deny it. A person I planned on bringing along with me when I left this place. It’s just that back then, the timing wasn’t ripe yet.

MC: After you left, did you remain in contact with the person who kept you informed about the organisation’s internal affairs?

Lucien: Yes.

MC: ...who is it?

I stare at Lucien, my heart beating rapidly. I can’t tell if my emotions can be called anger or something else.

Lucien’s eyes continue to sparkle. He arches the corners of his mouth, as though in a good mood.

That layer of suppressed anger dissipates, and I suddenly realise something.

MC: ...Lucien, don’t speak nonsense.

Lucien: I never lie. You should know that clearly.  

MC: You...

Lucien: That person is a female.

MC knows that every word and action is being watched by the people in the surveillance room

Lucien: We’ve known each other for a long time. After leaving the organisation... she has been the one taking the initiative to look for me most of the time.

MC: Nonsense! You’re just-

Lucien: Of course, I miss her a lot. Perhaps there is a tacit understanding between us. Whenever I miss her, she will appear.

MC: But the relationship between the two of you is simply sharing the benefits of exchanging information, am I right?

Lucien: ...is that so? It sounds like there isn’t a relationship at all. Did you know? Sometimes, feelings are part of a beneficial exchange. Many people simply don’t realise it, and lose out in the process. With this thought in mind, perhaps those people are the ultimate winners.

At this point, the STF barges in. Lucien frees himself from the ropes.

Lucien: I wasn’t speaking nonsense. I do have someone I want to take with me.

I feel a tightening on my wrists and I exclaim in surprise. Both my hands have been gently bound in front of me, bringing with it a silky touch.

Lucien: Now, can I take you away?

MC: ...that’s not possible.

I look him in the eyes. In the darkness, the rotating red lights occasionally flash across his face, looking blurry and dangerous.

MC: I’ve said it before. It’s all right if you choose to walk down another path, because I’ll walk the remaining half of this path on your behalf. I’ll prove to you that the decision we made at the beginning was not wrong.

Lucien ...I got it.

At this moment, I seem to understand the true loneliness in this man’s eyes than ever before. At the same time, I feel as though I’m the person he has lied to the most in the world.

Lucien: In that case, sleep for a while...

Realising what he’s about to do, I try to escape.

Lucien’s palm has already covered my eyes, the warmth reminiscent of a cloud which has been under the sun for a long time.

MC: Lucien... you're lying to me again.

Lucien: What?

MC: You...

His voice trembles in my ear. In my hazy state, I don’t know if I said the words in my heart.

He lied so that I would enter this cold iron cell and warm him up.

But his hands are burning hot, as though the temperature had been stored for a long time, reserving it for the lady who has gotten frozen in order to find him.

MC: Lucien, you don’t... feel cold at all, right?

~

When MC awakes, she’s at home. She feels an itch on her wrist and sees rope marks

She receives a notification on her phone telling her that the underground interrogation room has been sealed by the STF, but there aren’t any traces left of what happened yesterday

The interrogation materials have also been wiped

The doorbell rings, and it’s Lucien

MC: Are you Mr Advisor, or Professor Lucien?

Lucien: Right now, I’m just a neighbour who is inviting you for dinner. Will you do me the honour?

MC: Mm... I happen to be a little hungry.

Lucien smiles. When he takes my hand, his eyes fall on the ribbon tied to my wrist.

Lucien: Is this... a new ornament?

...oh no, I forgot to take it off last night.

Looking at his expression, which clearly shows that he knows what’s going on, I nod and pretend nothing happened.

MC: Even I don’t know where it came from. Come to think of it, could it have been you?

I ask Lucien, lifting my head while changing my shoes at the entrance.

He smiles, his warm fingertips gliding across my wrist. He chuckles lightly while unravelling the delicate knot.

Lucien: Next time, I’ll tie it a little more tightly.

-

Lucien’s Call: here

-

💔 Gavin’s Stray Date (迷途之约) 💔

MC is in a hut on a cliff by the sea looking for someone

She spots a familiar figure 👀

She tries to sneak away because she doesn’t want trouble, but the wind lifts her off the ground and brings her over to Gavin

Gavin: Care to explain?

Gavin lifts his head and arches his brows slightly. Both hands are crossed in front of his chest as he watches me hover in the air.

MC: I... was just preparing for a future photoshoot.

While he tries to catch her in a lie, he uses his Evol to gradually make her hover above the ocean...

MC: You... this is against the rules!

Gavin: I’ve always used my own methods to resolve issues.

MC tries to suppress her trembling, and reaches out to maintain her balance. She then realises that the air currents around her are controlled very well to ensure she doesn’t fall - Gavin is just trying to scare her

She calms down and relaxes her posture, even smiling at him

Gavin: [sighs] You’re not afraid?

He closes his eyes and sighs softly, bringing me closer to the cliff. He still doesn’t put me down.

MC: I said it before - I’m not afraid of you. So, you can’t scare me.

Gavin: What relation do you have with that person?

MC: Does STF’s mission have something to do with that person?

Gavin: This has nothing to do with you.

MC: In that case, my answer also has nothing to do with you.

His fingertips tremble and he looks straight at me. I sit on the air current and clench my fists, staring back at him.

MC: Gavin, I also have things I want to use my own methods to resolve. He has taken something he shouldn’t have. I’m not sure about the rest of it, and I don’t want to know.

The strength of the air current gradually becomes weaker. I try to maintain my balance, but Gavin suddenly holds me gently.

With one hand, he grabs my wrist. With the other, he brushes my back so I can stand on the ground steadily.

He must have stood here for a long time - he smells of the ocean breeze.

Gavin takes half a step back. This wordless hug was so brief that it almost feels like a hallucination.

Gavin: He has always been on the STF’s wanted list. For three years.

~

A few days later, MC uses intelligence from the STF to look for the man

Under the cover of the sprinkler system of the hotel, she looks for the USB drive in the man’s room

Gavin suddenly breaks the window and enters the room

The first thing he does is to scan the room for a fire... and only after he sees there isn’t any, he rushes to MC (does this mean he still has a phobia of fire?? 😭)

Just when you think this isn’t painful enough:

After pressing the off button, he casually wipes off the water droplets from his forehead and fringe. When his hair curls up in the air, it actually looks pretty cute.

That strawberry hairband and resigned expression suddenly flash before my eyes.

A curtain of water clouds my vision. I blink repeatedly, forcing myself to focus on the present.

[Note: It’s a reference to Gavin’s Prank Date]

While they talk, they discover that it was neither STF nor MC who set off the fire alarm. The man had escaped with the help of somebody else

Gavin puts a jacket over MC and carries her out of the window

MC asks if they can work together, but Gavin says:

Gavin: That’s not the way I work. The thing you’re looking for is unrelated to Black Swan, so I won’t look into it. But this doesn’t mean it’d be the same next time.

When he reaches the ground, he holds me in his arms and walks to the ambulance, blocking me from the sight of onlookers.

Gavin: She suffered some injuries just now. Bring her to the hospital.

After speaking, he lifts the jacket that’s covering my face, and leans close to my ear.

Gavin: Don’t involve yourself in this matter again.

~

Later, MC leaves the hospital, hugging Gavin’s jacket. She’s at the port.

A few minutes ago, she received a call telling her that the man plans to leave Loveland City through the port that night

It’s also revealed that the man betrayed Black Swan

Suddenly thinking of something, she calls Gavin, who already knows of the man’s plans to leave Loveland City

MC voices her suspicions that the person helping the man isn’t simply helping him escape out of kindness. From her investigations, the man hasn’t kept in contact with anyone after leaving Black Swan three years ago

Gavin says he’d head to the port, but MC says there isn’t enough time

Gavin: I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to worry about these things. All you have to do is keep yourself safe, and leave the rest of it to me.

MC persuades him to direct her so she can find him quickly, since STF would need some time to arrive

MC: Gavin, you have to trust me. Trust me, all right?

Gavin: You have to promise.

MC: I promise nothing will happen to me, and that I have my ways of protecting myself. And I also trust that you’d give me the correct judgments.

I’m no longer that person who only knows how to let you stand in front of me. This time, I’ll stand beside you, and will not back down.

MC: Gavin, I’m at the unloading zone.

The lights from the cold machine are reflected in his eyes. Beneath his palm is the entire port.

He forces himself to lean against the chair instead of immediately rushing to the girl’s side.

Gavin: In 50 metres, there are two people at two o'clock. The target is moving towards Area C. There’s no rush. Your speed is faster than him.

MC: That’s a shuttle bus I “borrowed”.

Hearing the girl’s slightly satisfied tone, he can’t help but let out a secret smile.

Gavin: [softly laughs] Turn right.

MC: Did you just laugh...

Gavin: No.

MC: Don’t think you can lie just because I can’t see you.

Gavin: ...

MC: I guessed correctly, right? If it’s you, you’d definitely say something along the lines of “I won’t lie to you”.

Gavin: Didn’t you lie to me in front of the hut?

MC: ...

Gavin: Turn left in front. He’s stopped.

MC: I don’t have a choice sometimes...

The girl sounds as though she’s been wronged. Her voice goes round and round, worming into the tip of his heart, and gently prodding it twice.

Gavin: I...

MC: Gavin! I think I see him!

I hide behind a container secretly, watching as the man looks around furtively, as though waiting for someone.

A red dot appears on his back, and trails upwards.

MC: !!!

I rush forward quickly, throwing two black objects in the direction where the red light came from.

In the dense smoke screen, the man sees that things are amiss, and whips out a detonator from the pocket of his coat.

A massive explosion sounds. I grip the man’s collar tightly, but am held in a warm embrace the very next second.

MC: Gavin?!

Gavin: Did you really think I’d let you come here alone?

~

Gavin: So this is your way of protecting yours-

Comical ribbons fall lightly on the top of Gavin’s head, hanging in front of his left eye. 

His bright amber eyes blink. Gavin turns his head to look at the sky full of coloured ribbons. 

A gigantic inflatable man holds a banner with the word “surprise”, and it sways in the wind. 

The man freezes in place while holding onto the detonator, looking as though he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

MC: I knew early on that there’d be something “special” here. How is it? I said I had my ways. Unexpected, right? 

Gavin lifts his hand, gently removing the ribbon next to my ear. He fails to suppress a smile. 

Gavin: Unexpected. But we’ll talk about this later. 

He stands up, looking coldly at the man cowering in the corner. 

Gavin: MC, turn around. 

MC: Okay...

I listen to Gavin and turn around obediently. The moon hides behind the clouds, as though carrying a sense of pity. 

Soon after, Gavin receives news that the sniper has been brought under control.

After explaining how the sniper was caught, Gavin places something on the top of her head - it’s the USB she’s been searching for

MC: Even though I really didn't do anything bad, you’re just giving it to me directly? You don’t need to check it? 

Gavin: I’m taking it away if you keep asking. 

MC: I won’t ask, I won’t ask. 

However, MC has another question - how did Gavin appear at the scene when he should have been in STF’s command room? 

Gavin doesn’t give her a straightforward answer

Gavin: I was at the control system, but I could also come here. That’s it.

[And then Papergames cuts me deep by playing Gavin’s S1 bgm out of nowhere...]

At this moment, sirens blare in the distance. The special reinforcements have arrived.

I dig into my bag and realise my car keys are missing.

 A bunch of bright keys slide in the air and fall into my palm.

MC: I even thought you’d detain me for an investigation.

Gavin: Aren’t you...

He pauses, and he retracts the words on his lips. After a long time, he speaks slowly.

Gavin: You didn’t do anything bad, right? 

Gavin turns his head to the side. The crescent moon hides his eyes in the night. 

Gavin: Didn't you ask me to trust you? 

His voice is very light. It’s so light that once the words leave his lips, they are immediately swallowed up by the night wind. 

MC: What? 

Gavin: You’re still not leaving? Do you really want me to detain you? 

I purse my lips at him, then grip the car keys as I run in the direction of the car park Gavin told me about. I suddenly think of something, and turn around. 

MC: Isn’t it very convenient to work with me? If you keep rejecting me, you’ll lose out. I suggest you consider it properly next time. 

Gavin: All right, I’ll consider it. The next time you face danger, you don’t need to rush into it alone. It’s quite silly. 

MC: You...

Gavin: You can call my name.

-

Do you know why this hurts so much? Because he’s unintentionally referencing his very first date - the Relieving Date:

-

Gavin’s call: here

-

🌸 MOMENTS 🌸

Gavin’s Post: Another coincidence?

MC: I even feel like I'm staging it.

Gavin: Having your car break down doesn’t count.

[Note: I translated “staging it” from “碰瓷”, which refers to how some drivers manoeuvre unsuspecting motorists into crashes in order to make false insurance claims.]

-

Gavin’s Post: Another coincidence?

MC: I didn’t think my car would break down outside the STF entrance, causing trouble for you again.

Gavin: It’s okay, it’s no effort at all.

-

Gavin’s Post: Another coincidence?

MC: My engine might have its own ideas... but thank you for your wind in helping me move the car.

Gavin: Ahem, it’s just safer that way. 

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 3

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them?

➼ part 3 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

Dumbledore rises and nods to the back of the Hall, signaling Filch, who begins to limp forward with an old chest.

"I wold like to say a few words before we bring in the casket." The Hall stops and looks to Dumbledore at the front of the Professors' tables. 

"Casket. Did he say casket?" you lean over to Hermione to confirm your suspicions. Hermione nods.

"Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do so, that student must survive three tasks. Three very dangerous tasks.”

"Wicked." Fred and George mutter with identical smirks adorning their features.

"You see, the Triwizard Tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch-"

CRACK!

A stitch of lightning flashes across the enchanted ceiling and the torches along the walls flicker, casting the Hall into and eerie semi-darkness. The rear doors fly open and a man stands in dark silhouette, clad in a long black traveling cloak, clutching a staff. Lighting flashes again and Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody is revealed, all grizzled grey hair and scarred flesh. As he limps forward- CLONK! CLONK!- all eyes shift to his wooden leg while the electric blue eye imbedded in his skull scans the Hall warily.

"Bloody hell. That's Mad-eye Moody." Ron speaks aloud.

"Alastor Moody? The Auror?" Hermione corrects as she leans to get a look of him.

"Auror?" Dean Thomas pipes up from where he's seated.

"Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. Supposed to be mad as hatter these days, though. Sees Death Eaters in his dustbins." Ron sighs in disappointment of the once great man.

"Dark wizard catcher?" you take a sudden interest in the profession as it's mentioned in this passing conversation. 

Another bolt of lightning flashes. Annoyed, Moody points his wand to the ceiling and, casting a red jet of flames, calming the enchanted sky. Slowly, the torches regain their bloom.

Satisfied, Moody pockets his wand, brings out a flask, and tips it to his lips. Harry watches his every move, fascinated. 

"That's that he's drinking, d'you suppose?" Seamus quietly inquires. 

"Dunno, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice." you grimace. 

Moody and Dumbledore exchange whispers and a handshake, then Moody takes one of the remaining seat at the tall table. The staff eye him in mute disbelief. 

"Barty, as you were saying..." Dumbledore gestures for Barty to continue. 

Barty Crouch blinks and turns back to the stunned students. 

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final." Barty winces when the uproar of upset underage students begins and he does his best to ignore them.

"What?!" Fred is bewildered. 

"That's rubbish!" George shakes his fist angrily. 

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellows. He says this so forcefully the result is absolute. 

"Thank you."

Taking his wand, Dumbledore turns to the casket and gives it three taps. As the lip opens, he removes a wooden cup dancing with blue-white flames.

"The Goblet of Fire. Anybody wishing to submit themselves to the Tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the flame within the next twenty-four hours. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As of this moment... the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

With a massive thud, Moody drops a textbook onto Neville's desk, the same textbook on everybody's desk: The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

"I see you all slogged down to Flourish & Blotts like good little boys and girls and bought the textbook. Congratulations... it'll make a find doorstop." Moody sneers. 

The students exchanged confused glances and then glance back down at their textbooks. Not like most were going to read them, anyways. Moody turns. 

"I'm Alastor Moody, ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" Moody's blue eyes scan the silent classroom and land on Harry. Harry stares back, willing himself to hold the old warrior's horrifying visage. Moody turns away and takes his flask.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. You may wonder what I mean by that. I'll show you. But first, which of you can tell me..." Moody takes a sour tug on the flask, snatches up a specimen jar, and watches a spider scuttle within.

"... how many Unforgivable Curses are there?"

The students trade uneasy glances. Finally, Hermione's hand raises tentatively. As his real eye continues to stare at the spider, Moody's blue eye rotates into Hermione.

"I might've known. Go on, Granger." Moody encourages. 

"There are three, sir-" She stops. "How did you know..." Moody circles again.

"Your name? I know a bit more than that. You're top of your class- correct?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Naturally inquisitive?"

"Yes..."

"Socially inept?"

"Well..."

"And... Muggle born." Moody stops, eye raking over the others.

"I'm not about to walk into a room full of strangers without doing background. Constant vigilance!" Moody jabs his staff into the floor right in front of you and Harry. As the class jumps, Harry studies Moody's scars. 

"Girl Weasley!" He exclaims. Your eyes rake up to meet his with anxiety swimming in your irises. 

"Sir?" you gulp.

"Don't think I didn't research your background as well." Moody makes sure of that.

"I don't doubt you did, sir." your eyes fail to maintain eye contact. 

"Twin sister of Ronald Weasley?"

"Yes, sir."

"Always alert?"

"I would think so-"

"Bossy?"

"I-... I would suppose I am-"

Moody speaks to Harry. "The devil likes disguises. Never forget that." He nods. Harry remains transfixed. Finally, Moody moves on. You let out a hitched breath and slouch your tensed shoulders. 

"He's right, you are bossy." Harry smiles mischievously. Your eyes shift to look at his and you make no comment, which is highly unusual for you, given your nature. Harry's smile disappears when he notices your irregular breathing and the tears welling up beneath your eyelids. He assumes you didn't take Moody's comment well and he'd taken it a step further. You turn away and Harry reaches for your shoulder cautiously. 

"Wait, Y/N, I-"

"Again, Granger. How many curses?" Moody speaks again and Harry instinctively shuts his mouth. 

Hermione hesitates, noticing the glossy nature of your eyes before she realizes she's being spoken to. She steals once last glance at you before she turns to Moody. 

"Three." She replies. 

"And they're so named...?"

"Because they're unforgivable. The use of any one of them..." Hermione's voice shakes. 

"... will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do, I say different! You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Seamus blinks, caught in the act. He whispers to his desk mate. "Blimey. The old codger can see out of the back of his head..." Moody whirls around and chucks the chalk he was writing with in Seamus's direction.

"... and hear across classrooms! So. Which curse shall we see first? Weasley!"

"Y-yes?" Ron gasps and jumps to look up at Moody. 

"Give me a curse." Moody implores pressingly, his artificial darting from the board to Ron hastily. 

Ron watches uneasily as Moody returns to the specimen jar, reaches inside and lets the spider run up his hand. 

"Well... our dad once told me about one... the Imperious Curse." Ron falters, voice wavering. Lory nods grimly to herself, Ron's statement evoking a memory of long ago. 

"I expect your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a fair bit of grief some years ago. Perhaps this will show you why." Moody unsheathes his wand and aims it carefully towards the fidgeting insect.

"Imperio!"

As Moody waves his wand, the spider leaps from his palm onto Dean Thomas's desk. The class begins to giggle, and the giggles turn into roaring laughter as the spider hops from Dean's desk and into Crabbe's face, who exclaims in horror and reaches up to swat the spider from his face. 

"Don't worry! She's completely harmless." Moody assures with a small smirk playing on his face.

The spider flies across the room and lands on Paravrti's hand, who immediately ceases her laughter and exchanges her amused expression for one of terror with a mixture of horror. She stiffens and freezes at the contact, heavily exhaling as the spider crawls up her arm and dangerously close to her face. 

Moody cackles in amusement as he directs the spider to hover dangerously close to Ron's face, who whimpers in terror. 

"If she bites... she's lethal!" Moody grins with a playful wave of his wand, causing the spider to drop on Ron's face, who's eyes widen to the size of saucers as his body stiffens. Moody laughs once more, true delight gracing his features. 

Draco's laugh sounds prominently through the classroom and snatches Moody's attention, who doesn't enjoy the smug look gracing his features. 

"What are you laughing at?" Moody challenges, hurriedly waves his wand to cause the spider leap through the air and land directly on Draco's face, causing him to yell in horror. 

"Serves you right, Malfoy." you turn in your seat and grin childishly at him. Once the spider finally removes itself from Draco's face, he doesn't hesitate to glare intently at you, smugly sitting in front of him. 

"Shut your mouth, blood traitor." he growls. You merely shrug, your heart hammering in your chest with confidence. 

"Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out a window? Drown herself?" One by one, the students' smiles dry up.

"Scores of witches and wizards claimed they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Here's the rub: how do you sort out the liars?" Moody rapidly wets his lips, stating intently at the class. The statement sinks into the minds of the students as it falls silent for moment, if only just. 

"Another!" Moody urges. He scans the forest of hands, when his eye rotates with particular interest on... Neville.

"It's Longbottom, is it? Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology." Moody mutters quietly to Neville as he towers over his desk.

Neville nods shyly, then answers. "There's... the Cruciatus Curse." he stutters nervously.

"Yes. Particularly nasty." Moody exclaims. He steps forward, looming over Neville and drops the spider onto his desk.

"Crucio!"

The spider twitches, legs trembling violently. Moody stands utterly motionless, eyes fixed on Neville, who seems transfixed on the spider's misery. Lorelei's contorts in sympathy for the creature as it whines and screeches, her eyes squinting shut to obstruct her sightline of the writhing spider. Hermione's eyes drift from the spider to Neville's hands, which are clenching the corners of his desk so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

"Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"

Finally... Moody drops his wand. The room falls under a solemn silence. 

"Um... perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger." Moody stands at her desk, drops the spider from his hand to her desk, and stares at her expectantly. Everyone's eyes are trained on Hermione to catch her response, especially you. 

Hermione glances at you and shakes her head insistently. 

"Avada Kedavra!"

There is a flash of green light, a rush of air, and the spider... rolls onto its back. Dead.

"The killing curse. There is no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room."

As the others turn their eyes on him, Harry looks up and sees Moody studying him. Moody's tongue nervously probes the corner of his mouth as he takes out his flask and turns away. Harry's eyes drop tot he spider, lying motionless.

"Bugger off, you lot. Nothing to see here." you shoo off the tables around you and the students avert their eyes elsewhere in the room. Harry is silently grateful. 

You, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drift from the class. 

"Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with, but he's really been there, y'know? He's looked evil in the eye." Ron gushes. 

"I think he's cruel. Did you see Neville? I though he was going to-" Harry lets out a short warning whistle before you can continue: up ahead, within earshot, Neville stands by a stained glass window, his face running in rainy blue light as he gazes vaguely beyond. 

"Neville....?" you gently touch his shoulder. 

Clunk! Clunk! Moody limps past them and places a leathered hand on Neville's shoulder. 

"It's alright, sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea in my office." Moody leads Neville away. Harry and the others head off themselves. 

Set within the glass pane is an ancient witch fashioned out of blue glass, her "skin" running with rain. A tiny fissure mars the glass below one eye. She looks be crying. 

A bitter wind sweeps crystalline sheets of rain from the roof. Far below, Cedric Diggory dashes toward the Great Hall.

Inside the Hall, the goblet flickers eerily at the top. A group of underclassmen- Harry and Ron among them- stand by as their older classmates submit their names. Hermione clutches a copy of Triwizard Tragedies. You nudge her. 

"You're only going to worry yourself sick with that book, you know." you inform curtly, eyeing the book. 

"People have gotten splinched in this Tournament! More than once!" Hermione exclaims in horror. 

"Splinched?" Dean Thomas inquires. 

"Dunno. But it doesn't sound good." Seamus exhales anxiously. 

"Potter." Cedric nods to Harry and drops his name. Ron raises his hand in greeting, but Cedric is already dashing back into the rain. Ron frowns, drops his hand, and glances back to the Goblet. 

"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it, three years from now, when we're old enough, to be chosen?" Ron dreams. 

"Better you than me." Harry grins and Ron nods knowingly. 

"Better not be either of you, you hear me?" you warn the two. Ron rolls his eyes. 

"You're not the boss of me. I am two minutes older." Ron brags. The group groans. 

"Not this again." Hermione goes back to her book. 

"Oh, two whole minutes older. What an accomplishment. You probably pulled me by my heal to get out first." You retort in exasperation. Ron scowls. "Did not!" He exclaims. 

You’re about to continue the argument when, just then, Fred and George come striding forth, looking very pleased indeed. 

"Well, we've done it, lads." Fred announces proudly, almost smugly. 

"Cooked it up just this morning." George smirks. They hold up twin vials. 

"It's not going to work..." Hermione informs in a sing-song tone. Everyone turns. Hermione flips a page in her book. 

"Yeah? And why's that, Granger?" The twins arrive either of her sides. 

"Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion." Hermione informs with an annoyed expression. 

"That's what makes it so brilliant. It's pathetically dim-witted." Fred's playful smile never falters. 

"Go on, then." you challenge. 

"Ready Fred?" "Ready George." "Bottoms up!"

As one, they top a gooey green liquid onto their tongues and, with great drama, cross the golden line encircling the Goblet. As they drop their names, everyone waits. And waits. Fred and George grin and hive five each other and...

... are ejected high in the air, out of the circle and flat on their backs, whereupon little white beards sprout on their chins. Everyone laughs.

"You said!"

"You said!"

The twins lunge at each other, limbs tangled as they wrestle each other into submission, blaming the other for their shared misfortune. Then Seamus stops laughing. Then Dean. Harry. Ron. You. Finally, when no one is laughing, Hermione looks up and sees what has silenced them:

Victor Krum.

He drops his name, glances at her, briefly, then lowers his head and slouches away. Hermione watches him go, briefly, then returns back to her book. 

"What do you suppose that was?" You lean slightly to whisper in Harry's ear, who shrugs. 

"No idea." he answers with little interest. Ron, on the other hand, is close to glaring.

The House tables crackle with anticipation as, overhead, the enchanted ceiling swirls with dark clouds. At the Tall Table, the staff awaits, Moody among them. Dean Thomas dashes up to the Gryffindor table.

"Did you hear?! Not a single student from Beauxbatons submitted their name." he exclaims. 

"What!?" Ron gasps. Harry and Ron glance to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho sits next to an empty seat. Ron looks crestfallen. 

"Oh, rubbish, one of them must have submitted their name." Your expression changes from determined to confused when you realize that none of the Beauxbaton students are anywhere to be seen.

"They've gone home!" Ron declares, bewildered and disappointed. 

"I can't say I'm surprised. Those girls were just a tad high-strung, if you ask me." Hermione's triumphant smirk is unmissable, and you pat her on the shoulder with the same type of smirk. 

Suddenly, there is a stir at the back of the Hall and the Beauxbaton girls, chins held high, stride single-file into the room, past the House tables and up to the Goblet of Fire where- one after another- they deposit their names. As a final flourish, tiny Gabrielle Delacour casts a handful of pixie dust into the Goblet, which issues a pink cloud of rose petals. The Hall rings with whistles and cheers. Ron beams. 

"Oh, for crying out loud." you slouch in your seat at the display. 

"I love it when they do this..." Ron sighs with a dazes expression overtaking his features. 

"Do what?" Hermione demands. 

"You know... walk together."

"Thank you, ladies of Beauxbatons, for that enjoyable but of theatre. Now... the moment has arrived." Dumbledore draws his wand and gives a great sweeping motion. Instantly, the torches lining the hall gutter, then die. The only light comes from the blue-white flames of the Goblet. 

A hush descends. Then... the flames crackle and turn red. A charred bit of parchment flutters from the goblet and Dumbledore plucks it out of the air.

"The champion for Durmstrang is... Victor Krum." A storm of applause accompanies Krum from the Slytherin table to the top of the hall and into the adjoining chamber.

"No surprise there!" Ron scoffs. 

Once more, the Hall grows quiet, all eyes on the Goblet. The flames turn red. A second piece of parchment, a particularly feminine parchment, floats free.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."

"I'm telling you, they don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Ron shakes his head and whistles through his fingers- a touch too loudly, and you whack him harshly upside the head. Hermione glowers at him.

"And lastly, the Hogwarts champion." A beat of stressed silence passes. "Cedric Diggory!"

"Silly git..." Ron grumbles as the Hall erupts in cheers. 

"He's meant to be quite smart, actually. And he's a Prefect." you nod curtly. 

"Like that's a good thing..." 

"Excellent! We now have our three champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of your to give your full support to each and every-"

A collective gasp cuts Dumbledore short: the flames in the Goblet of Fire have, once more, turned red. Moody's eye rotates. A fourth... and fifth shred of parchment flutter forth. For a moment, Dumbledore simply lets them float in the air, regarding it suspiciously, then he takes them.

"Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley." He announces grimly. 

Your face falls and your heart stops beating for a moment. The blood drains from your face and you turn to look at Harry, who's utterly confused as well. 

There is a moment of suspended silence. Then every eye in the Hall turns toward you and Harry. Incredulous, Ron searches your face for some explanation. Finally, Hermione whispers:

"Go on, you two." Hermione places her hand gently on the small of your back to push your up. 

You and Harry rise stiffly and you begin the slow walk past the house tables. As you come level with the tall table, Harry catches sight of Dumbledore. He is not smiling.

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

DIE PERSONAL INTERVIEW SPECIAL HEADBANG VOL.27 TRANSLATION 1/2

Sometimes delicate, sometimes rough, sometimes you are dazzled by his splendid playing. The red guitarist has reached Dir en grey’s unique mark . “Surprisingly, I like the rough feeling of those times. It felt like each member was strangely not trying to coordinate with the others. It seems like every member was playing with that rough feeling while just focusing on each’s one position. I remember quite a bit the atmosphere around 2005.”

Notes before reading:  This is the first part of personal interview of Die from the magazine Headbang Vol.27 released on 18th August.  The interview is 11 pages long, this part covers the first 6 pages. As Toshiya’s interview, 2nd part is focused in his roots as a guitarist and overseas experience. This interview is hella long so expect second part in a week or so. You can read the second part here You can get the magazine at Amazon Japan or CDJapan. Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) -----

“These concentration of feelings…. I wonder if this has become one of our distinctive characteristics. That’s why it wasn’t like ‘let’s try some different ways about how it can be listened’.  I think the current Dir en grey is in a middle point. Ah, I wonder if this is our distinctive mark  I was working on it while thinking if this uniqueness is a method that can’t be imitated anywhere else” Text by:  Yohsuke Hayakawa Next appearance is a guitarist who pulls the string of his vivid red-coloured instruments, Die! In ‘Ochita koto no aru sora’, he has certainly established himself. Also, in an interview focused on 2005, focusing around the same time they released the single ‘Clever Sleazoid’, he confesses his honest thoughts of those days when they were putting their eyes at overseas as the band was going through a transitional period. It became a really interesting text.

In addition, from domestic artist such as D’ERLANGER which are the flesh and bones of Die, up to the ‘Family Values Tour’ organized by KORN, which became a battle ground, this interview must be read in full, along with the second half theme interview in which several problems appeared

“Feeling the same than the fans, I wanted to see it as a situation that we don’t know what’s coming’

-I have the impression that Dir en grey has been so close to their fans over the last few months. After all, in this unprecedented situation, as they are people looking for themselves, was there a moment that you thought that there was something you could do even if it seemed impossible to be until then? Die: Well, that’s true. I feel like I've been doing specials things and things that I haven't done before. Like the live without audience (’The world you live in’, a live without audience in March). All the members were looking at strange places while playing. As there were no fans there and then all the same staff members were doing the same lighting and production as usual, I was wondering how it would feel when the live started.  It would be strange to say that there was a response, but I feel we were able to play in a good atmosphere. As a result, I think I had a very good experience. -After that, in May, there was a Youtube broadcast with setlist planned by the members (DIR EN GREY AUDIO LIVE STREAM 5DAYS) and you personally appeared in the chat. D: The chat was actually quite hectic (laughs) -Hahaha. In addition, there was also a broadcast of a talk with a relaxed atmosphere where you could see the real face of the members (DIR EN GREY LIVE ARCHIVE & SPECIAL TALK). At those, I felt the love for your fans. D: Well, that’s right. However, even if the AUDIO LIVE STREAM was done for fans, we also enjoyed it. The setlist of the other members were sent in advance to me but I didn't look at them. As I wanted to see it with the same feeling as the fans, not knowing what was coming. Enjoying them, mine was on the 3rd night and until then, I was watching the flow of the fan chat and I it looked amazing. I thought ‘I want to join as well in the chorus part’ (laughs) So I decided to participate at the part of the chorus in real time. However, the pace of the chat was too fast, and the timing didn't match at all (laughs) That’s why that part felt very much like a live. When it finished, I felt like time flew so fast. -There was a rare feeling about discovering each member’s setlist. I enjoyed the 5 days. Apart from you, there were people talking on SNS from different positions and I think there were many people who were going through difficult situations, so it was a good project to make everyone feel closer to each other. D: That's right. Then, one to two weeks later, the members themselves appeared on the screen. Well, if it weren't for this situation, I probably wouldn't have done it. But if you are going to do it…. it’s a strange way to say it, but it's wasn’t the usual DIR image, but bit more relaxed. Because we said we wanted to create an atmosphere that made that fans happy.) I did (my appearance) it with Toshiya…. -Yes. It was quite a shocking time (laughs). D: Hahaha. Toshiya said that if we did the talk as always, it wouldn’t be exciting for the fans. That’s why we caught up and  drank a little bit in advance, so we raised our spirits by ourselves. I think we have the desire of fans enjoying this part of the talks too. -Well, the good atmosphere that you both created was cool. D: Well, when you are thinking about what you can do to make it better, you are kind of wondering what it's going to be like.  The live with no audience, the ”AUDIO LIVE STREAM’, there was also the members talk…. But it's not something you can do so many times. It’s just doing what we can do now. -Indeed. I don’t even know if the proper answer to the current situation would be to keep doing lives without audience. D: I did the live without audience once, but once I did it, I felt like I couldn't do them properly in the same circumstances even if I did them twice or three times again. -After all, there is a feeling of tension and challenge unique when you do it for the first time. D: That's right. Like, “How is going to be?”, I can only do it with that sense of tension. “I was like, ‘what’s is this space (venue)? I feel like I was inside of a dream” -Also, I remember your words in the members talk, you said "I feel like the days when I was playing lives are an illusion”. D: Ah, yes yes. -A heated up crowded show is no longer realistic for you? D: That’s right.  At that moment, I couldn’t see the future at all. If I thought that we couldn’t do anything in the future (lives) I wondered what that  space (venue) will  become. I think I feel like I was in a dream. After all, if you have too much time, you will end up imagining various scenarios. Good and bad. -For sure.  So, while the tour went from being postponed to cancelled, the Pia Arena MM performances 'The insulated World- The Screams of Alienation', that marked the end, remained as a possibility until the last moment to finally being cancelled as well. I think that was a tough decision. D: It really was. It would have been the fans and the band just meeting…...It's a bit strange to say, but if that were all was about, we could have done it. But we couldn’t do our live. Naturally, we could have changed the arena tickets and the standing that were being sold as seating tickets, also, you needed to leave an empty seat between people at that time. And after all,  if you have to be ventilating all the time, you won’t be able to use things like smoke, or  certain things on the stage. If we have gone through that, Dir en grey may have been the first band in the world to perform a concert like that, which would had made us the reference for other bands for the future… At that point,we were wondering if it would be best to be the first ones to do it but, after all, our live couldn’t be materialized as we wanted so as we couldn’t do it, we decided to cancel. It was  also the closure of 'The insulated world' (2018), so it wouldn’t be finally closed. It's nice to have a live performance, but in the place where we were going to show the culmination of what we've been touring for the past 1-2 years, even though we did those lives performances, there wouldn’t be any special production due to Corona. -It would have been simply like a fact, “we did them because we had to”. D: That's right. We felt like we were going to get catch up with out activities for the future. It was a tough decision. We really wanted to do something in order to be able to do the performances and we were looking for a way to do them, so the announcement of cancelation was made at very last minute.  During days, we were going from the phase of “Yes, we can do it” to “No, we can’t” during the whole day. -You have just transmitted that sense of tension here, the feeling of going against the timing….When the tickets were about to be on general say, you cancelled the performances. D: Yes, it happened around that point. It’s hard to imagine playing a live with social distance due to the current situation. We have been active until now, and we have been watching the crowded audience all the time. I don’t think otherwise it would be a Dir en grey’s live, spaced apart and with everyone not being able to say a word (shouting/cheering). If we had to do it in such conditions, I don’t think it's necessary to do the performances. “Oh, is this our distinctive mark? I wonder if this uniqueness is something that can’t be imitated anywhere else”

-Meanwhile, the new single "Ochita koto no aru Sora" was completed. While it’s filled with  DIR EN GREY essence, such as a heavy riffs, a fierce chorus, and a  catchy melody,  I felt that you made this  song made with a strong feeling of scepticism/caution. D: I see. If you put aside the last song 10-minute song 'The World of Mercy', it’s a song that seems to be following the flow of “Utafumi” and “Ningen wo kaburu”. It seems  they are following a pattern as songs that we release as singles. I wonder if that’s possible to be done. There is no guitar solo. -It's a song quite solid overall. D:  That’s right.  The  (guitar) phrase is changing little by little due to the composition the riffs, but it feels like I’m aggressively pushing the riffs all the time. It’s like adding nuances that change the scene so clearly. -It's like  a seamlessly connected melody flowing. D: Yeah. The atmosphere flows as it is, but I wonder if the details will change in the future. I wonder if this feeling of scepticism/caution you mentioned is one of our unique traits. That's why I didn't feel like trying to make it sound different. I think this style is the middle point of the current DIR EN GREY. The feeling of this uniqueness that we have created is the most suitable for us. - So, you just let it out without trying to knead it strangely. D: That’s right. If you think about it in various ways, you can develop it more and make it more attractive, but I want to go with a pattern that runs through the core without any strange element. However, it is surprisingly difficult to make such a thing. After all, it's easier as a pattern to make a development in the middle of the song. After all, it’s difficult to create a high point in a song like it is floating on air. -Ah, I see. If the atmosphere of the back is modulated in a completely different form, it’s easier to get that you did the song with the intention of making a high point. D: It's kind of easy to do that way, isn't it? However, instead of going like that, it’s 3 minutes and 20 seconds of a song with consist mostly of one consistent riff. However, when  I played the guitar in the recording, actually it was quite dizzying. Even if the riff repeated, it may not be exactly always following the same pattern, so it is always thrilling. - Certainly, the pattern of riff changes in the first half and the second half. D: Oh yes. I wonder if this our distinctive mark. I wonder if this uniqueness is a method that can’t be imitated anywhere else -So, do you think that that aspect is established as a tacit understanding between the members? D: Yes, I wonder if it became like this naturally. There were quite a few developments but in the process of pre-production, I went to the direction of scraping off and scraping off the guitar (*An effect created by scraping the pick along the strings of an electric guitar). I don't overdub (*a technique used in audio recording where a passage has been pre-recorded, and then during replay, another part is recorded to go along with the original) as much as I used to.  After all, in the old days, I was relieved to do it in that way but, that’s not how you are going to play it live (laughs). It's quite courageous not to do it. If it's a recording, you can record several layers of sound, but since you only play live the original, how can you compete with what sounds there? And this time, I could hardly take a break while working at home as I couldn’t barely get out of my house. - So, due to this unusual event going on, the schedule changed significantly. D: That’s right. I think we will be aware of this later. It feels like “Oh we did this single under these circumstances” or “at the time of this single, we were under a lockdown”, things like that. - By the way, this time the chorus… isn’t the pattern a bit difficult to do while playing live? D: No, it comes in at a good timing. Kyo has thought about the chorus with the flow of the song. If you think about the all the set of instruments will be played live at some point, it’s easier to get focused in the moment when the sound is rising up but when it's in the riff or in the back timing, It's almost impossible (laughs) If you are playing at this speed.  As usual, when we were going to record the chorus, the lyrics were given to us for the first time. As it is in English, the timing is quite difficult. “Each member was strangely trying to not to assemble with each other. I like the rough feeling of those days” -I feel like that chorus is very DIR EN GREY once again. Also, about the remake of 'Clever Sleazoid'. The lyrics have changed to Japanese, but the impression of the song is that it’s relatively faithful to the original. D: Yes. In terms of backing, we haven't changed it much from the original one, and we just raised the tempo a little. Also, it's a moment in which we re-recorded it with our own sound. And when it comes to guitars, it's more like the two guitars are playing closer together. The the original song was released around 2005, at that time, each of us were playing with our own sense of timing. Every of us were disconnected from the others, but there was a feeling of everything coming. But now, I wonder we did it with a pattern that fits tightly in unison. -You just mentioned it but, what do you think is the biggest difference between Dir en grey in 2005 and Dir en grey today? D: Well…..Really, 2005 was a transitional period for the band, or a time when we were looking for a little change. Everything was trembling, in a good an in a bad way as well. It was such a time like that. Personally speaking, it's better now……it's bad that I say this, but it was like “am I playing guitar properly?” kind of. -Hahaha. Really? was it like that? D: Yes. But surprisingly, I like the rough feelings at that time. It feels like each member wasn’t trying to get connected with each other strangely, and it feels like everyone was playing it while only caring about their position. I remember the atmosphere of 2005 quite a bit. -In 2005, Dir en grey participated in the Japan leg of the  tour  'Taste of Chaos', and I remember the festival on the studio coast. D:, Ah yes yes. Thinking about it now, wasn’t it rare? -I agree. Besides you, there was Killswitch Engage.... D: Also, The used, STORY OF THE YEAR, Funeral For A Friend, etc. -Yes. That band (Killswitch) was  really exciting. D: Yes. we used to get together at festivals with Killswitch Engage at that time. I also did two-man in France.

-So, as you said, I feel that Dir en grey at that time was in a rough and emotionless moment.

D: Yes, it was like that. Even if I was standing on the stage, it was more about how could I raise my own mood/tension rather than doing it for the fans who came to see us, so if I was in a bad mood, I would stay in a bad mood. But well, at that time, we were playing with that kind of mood/atmosphere: if you don’t like this, then you shouldn’t come to see us.

-If it’s a festival focused on overseas bands like ‘Taste of chaos’, as some people in the audience didn’t know Dir en grey, did that that feeling of irritation come to the forefront?

D: Rather than……at that time, I knew about other bands only by name, but honestly, I was wondering “What the hell is everyone clapping for?”. It looked more like buttering up the audience. It was like “Ah, this is so shallow”. But there are a quite things that I can reflect on now. There were times when I wasn’t kind to the fans.

-That was also reflected on the changes of your music style?

D: That’s it. Back then, it was all about playing guitar. I thought it was pointless if I didn’t shake the guitar off all the way. That’s why I barely listen to the sound of the other members when we were playing live. Things like, matching the rhythm of the drums. This was something that the staff would sometimes point out to me. “Listen to what the others are playing, keep the rhythm more”, things like that.

-At that time, when they told you that, what did you say?

D: I said “Oh, yes” and I tried to do what I was asked to do, but once the live started I was like “Waa, let’s go” (laughs) It was good and bad, isn’t it?

(2nd part here)

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 5 (Kiro) Part 3 [Game Initiation] & [Props and Points] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For the previous translations of Chapter 5: Part 1, Part 2

[Game Initiation]

When I woke up, it was already light out and Kiro wasn’t beside me.

During my rest, the metal collar sent out messages about players that have been out of the game from time to time.

I gently removed the leaves and found that Kiro was leaning on a tree trunk next to the hole, tapping away on the microcomputer.

Kiro: You’re awake!

MC: Sorry, I seem to have slept for a long time…

KIro: It's all right, you needed the rest after yesterday’s ordeal.

The sun slowly sunk. I called out the game map and found that the red dots on the screen were fewer than before, and the highest score in the ranking was nearly 100 points.

The red dot closest to us was moving to the southeast, as if not intending to get any closer to where Kiro and I were.

At this time, Kiro handed me a contact lens case. After I opened it, I found a pair of contact lenses inside.

Kiro: Put them in.

Although a little confused, I still followed his instructions and put on the contact lenses.

Kiro: Kilo, display location.

As Kiro’s voice fell, I instantly saw the same map screen as before, but it only seemed to appear in front of my eyes.

The difference is that in addition to the red dots, there are two pixelated bear heads on the map. One bear had a small golden flower on its head.

Kiro: I just analyzed the GPS system inside the metal collar and matched it.

While talking, he pointed to his eyes.

Kiro: Your lenses are matched with the ones I am wearing now. One of the bears is you and the other is me.

Kiro: Aren’t they cute?

MC: Yeah! But if the little bear wearing the little flower was you, I think it would be even cuter.

Kiro: I don’t have to be so cute!

Kiro simply rejected me and continued to explain the instructions to me.

Kiro: Kilo, show the connection.

Responding to his command, the two bears on the screen shook their heads, connecting a red line between them.

Kiro: Also, you can check the distance between us at any time.

Kiro: Kilo, display satellite signal, zoom in.

I saw the map in front of me being enlarged, showing a huge forest which looked familiar.

There are visible bushes all around and I can actually see a young man running in the distance.

Kiro: You can open it at any time in case you need it in the future!

Kiro: Kilo, close map.

MC: Amazing!

MC: But this forest looks familiar to me…

Kiro: Because this is the forest on the outskirts of Loveland City.

I looked around and felt a shiver go down my back.

Who would have thought that this game was so close to the city and all this was deeply hidden in the shadows?

MC: What exactly is this game?

Kiro glanced at me, hesitating for a moment, then turned on the microcomputer in his hand and motioned for me to come nearer.

Kiro: This game started three years ago. I heard that it was only a small-scale game, but little by little it gradually expanded. The organizer is unknown.

Kiro: There are two ways to participate in the game.

Kiro: One party is a player and points are earned by participating in the game.

Kiro: The top three can choose whether to advance to the next level of games to get more points in exchange for huge rewards. ***Sounds like the Box Office in the MLQC game XD***

Kiro: The game is divided into “zone” and “level”. Games of the same level will be played simultaneously in all corners of the world.

Kiro’s fingers tapped on the keyboard lightly and a world map was displayed in front of us on the screen and dense red dots were pinned on the map.

MC: Are all of these game locations…?

Kiro: This is just a suspicious point found based on the signal. In order to hide the existence of the game, the main messenger of the game often changes the IP address of the server.

Kiro: But the only thing that can be confirmed is that this game has a very wide range of influence and every continent has its own game zone.

I suddenly remembered the words introduced by the electronic voice when I first arrived in the forest.

MC: So we are now the first level in the ninth district…which means there is an eighth and seventh district…..even a tenth one?

Kiro: Mm-hm.

Kiro: The first level of the eighth zone started 5 days ago.

He quickly tapped the keyboard and rows of numbers flew across the screen.

Kiro: It ended about 4 hours ago.

I sucked in a cold breath.

All of this is like a thick, hidden black mist, lurking in a silent corner, quietly using people’s desires as bait.

Kiro: But this is only in Asia.

Kiro: If my guess is correct, right now in the United States, Africa, and Oceania…there should also be a first-level game in the ninth district going on at the same time.

According to Kiro’s prediction, I slightly raised my head and thought about it carefully.

MC: So in simple terms….

MC: The same can be said for the first-level game, the eight-zone level and the nine-zone level in which they may be played sequentially according to the date.

MC: Then, games of the same level in the same area on different continents will be played at the same time?

Kiro: Bingo! You got it.

MC: Can those players who have not been promoted still leave here?

Kiro: Yes, but…

Kiro: You need to be able to get out of here alive.

His tone was faint, but my fingers slowly went numb.

Kiro: In this game, the only way to earn points is to attack others.

Kiro: According to the degree and result of the attack, the system will make a judgment and give the corresponding points.

MC: If you…kill someone, the score will be the highest…right?

Kiro looked at me with some uneasiness and hesitation on his face.

Kiro: MC, even if you don’t know this, it also doesn’t matter.

Kiro: I will protect you so that you can leave here safely.

Kiro’s soft words are like a feather and his beautiful eyebrows were also slightly creased.

I took a deep breath.

MC: No.

MC: I want to know.

He looked at me seriously, as if he was still unsure whether to continue speaking.

MC: And it’s not “I”, but “we”. We are leaving here together safely.

Kiro looked at me, but then chuckled. He didn’t respond to what I just said but lowered his head and tapped on the keyboard.

Kiro: You guessed correctly. If you kill someone, you get the highest score.

Kiro: In order to get a higher score, the participates of the game will naturally choose to directly kill each other.

Kiro: And the messenger has a way to keep such killings undetected.

MC: ….Why would this person do such a thing?

Kiro: This involves the second way of participating in this game: betting.

MC: Could it be…

Kiro: All game participants will be photographed by a camera hidden in the metal collar, and then displayed on the screen for different people to watch and place bets.

Kiro: After the punter obtains the authority through a special method, he can watch the game on the monitor and bet on the participants. If the bet is successful, he can win money.

Kiro: It’s the same as betting on horses.

I inhaled sharply, and suddenly thought of something.

MC: Is this game specifically designed for Evolvers?

Kiro: Mm. At the very beginning, it was just a game for the existence of Evolvers.

Kiro: Probably many people want to see this kind of supernatural beings kill each other like watching a movie.

Kiro’s tone gradually calmed down, and the light from the screen was very solemn in his eyes.

Kiro: For Evolvers, there are still many people who do not acknowledge their existence and the huge rewards of this game are undoubtedly a huge attraction.

Kiro: Later, in order to increase the enjoyment of the game, a few ordinary people with superb physical abilities, were added to the game.

Kiro: In most cases, an Evolver has a greater chance of winning, but I heard….that the hunter with the highest score in this game is an ordinary person.

MC: How did you find out about all this?

Kiro: Well, I also saw a player who survived.

Kiro: His experience was also added to my survey results.

Kiro: But he quickly disappeared.

His brows were tightly knitted into a knot, and his eyes were full of guilt.

Kiro: Because this game has a rule that even after leaving, you are not allowed to disclose any information about the game.

MC: Then, he…

Kiro: The other party is sent to KEY through encrypted mail, and the transmission path and address were destroyed instantly at the same time the mail was sent.

Kiro: In the email, he wrote the online address of the game and the server address that he queried, and he also attached the server change rule he tested.

Kiro: Although there is some deviation from the correct result, it is precisely because of his calculation that I could find the real server address faster.

Kiro: But the next day, he vanished.

He lowered his head, like a self-blaming child. Kiro probably has been continuously blaming himself for this incident.

MC: He knew what the result would be, but he still sent you that email.

MC: I think he must believe that KEY can help more people to end this sinful game.

MC: He believes in you, and so do I.

Kiro touched his hair and smiled helplessly.

Kiro: Damn, I want to be more handsome in front of you, but I didn’t expect you to see me so useless.

MC: No, you are still the most handsome superhero!

He showed that bright smile again. Lu Kang’s memory suddenly flashed across my mind, which seemed to be similar to what Kiro said just now.

So I briefly described the scenes about the youth I saw before to Kiro.

Kiro: It’s not just this young man.

He tapped the Enter key softly, and the faces of six people immediately appeared on the screen.

Kiro: These are the six victims in the Evolver assassination.

Kiro: In fact, the second one was also a game player. He talked about the game in the post bar and disappeared in the afternoon.

MC: Is it possible that the so-called Evolver assassination is somehow related to this hunter game?

Kiro shook his head.

Kiro: The remaining dead have nothing to do with this game, so these two things exist simultaneously.

Kiro: Although they have different goals, both sides seemed to want to dilute themselves to the other side.

MC: How did you find so many…

Kiro: As long as electronic information is used, it will definitely leave traces in the world.

Kiro: I only happened to find out just now.

He turned off the computer screen and there seemed to be a progress bar on the side of the screen flashing by showing 35%.

MC: Then what did you do…

I wanted to ask what method Kiro used to break in and why he was investigating the hunter game when the metal collar around my neck suddenly vibrated.

The chilling mechanical interface was cast in front of us. The difference is that several green dots have been added to the map, and one happened to be near us.

Electronic voice: Ding dong.

Electronic voice: Now is the time for the supply of items for a limited time. Please obtain them according to the map if you need them. Don’t miss it.

[Props and Points]

Supply of limited-time items? What is that?

I looked at Kiro. He also seemed puzzled, but we looked at each other and decided to head towards the nearest green dot first.

It was a relatively spacious clearing in the forest, and there seemed to be a medicine box on a slab of rock in the center.

Kiro and I stayed to the side for now. Because of the virtual positioning set by Kiro, our location will not be discovered for the time being.

Soon a figure appeared in the clearing. He looked like a young man in his 20s with dark red blood stains on his clothes.

??: Open….

*popping sound*

He didn’t finish speaking. A bubble gum-like object floated to his ear at some point and immediately exploded!

The young man fell to the ground in pain, his ears bleeding, and another man emerged in the clearing while blowing bubble gum.

There were more and more bubbles. Kiro suddenly pounced on my body and held my head, covering my ears and the metal collar on my neck all at once.

*more popping sounds*

Nevertheless, the young man’s endless and painful wailing and explosions still pierced my head.

The world returned to silence after a few minutes.

Electronic voice: Hunter No. 19 attacked effectively, earned 30 points.

From the clearing, a cold electronic sound came from the man’s metal collar.

Kiro’s somber expression was reflected in my eyes. Someone died so tragically in front of us, but we were helpless.

The man blowing bubble gum didn’t seem to feel this. He even whistled happily and stepped forward to open the medicine cabinet.

He picked up a syringe and inserted it into the vein of his arm without hesitation.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the man’s arm was already covered with traces of injections.

He bent over slightly. His hands were shaking incessantly, and his nose kept pouring out blood. But he didn’t seem to mind and swiped the blood with the back of his hand.

Ferocious and chilling.

A tree rustled, and the man keenly glanced forward diagonally, revealing his blood-stained teeth. He smoothly spit out a bubble which seemed to be several times larger than before.

MC: His Evol has been enhanced….

The bubble floated leisurely in the direction where the sound came from and a huge explosion was heard the moment it touched the tree trunk!

Man: Huh, an illusion.

He smacked his lips, took a few steps, holding the metal collar with his hand.

Man: Display map.

The man continued to chew bubble gum and his eyes were full of bloodthirsty light. I didn’t know what button he had pushed, but then a call status appeared on the interface.

Man: I got the supplies. This thing can be increased by half an hour which is too useless.

The person on the other end of the call gave a little laugh.

??: I also got it. Indeed, it was a good idea to form an alliance. This game is not that difficult.

??: I heard that there has been a new improvement recently and it can last up to forty minutes.

Man: Forget it. I’ll try it out, see you later.

He turned off the screen, and started walking farther and farther away.

At the moment he left, Kiro lowered the brim of his hat and rushed to the side of the fallen young man.

As he approached him, he covered the metal collar on the young man’s neck with his clothes.

He silently watched the young man take his last breath, and then kindly covered the young man’s horrified eyes.

Electronic voice: Hunter No. 12  has died and his points were cleared.

Electronic voice: Out.

My metal collar said these cold words mercilessly.

Kiro’s body was trembling from anger and he clenched his fists and slammed his fist heavily onto the ground.

I walked forward quietly and lightly dropped my hand on his head. He raised his head and looked at me dejectedly.

Kiro: “I must put an end to the game.”

As soon as his spoke the words, I understood immediately, and nodded fiercely.

I looked in the direction where the man just left, and then at the thick tree trunk that was blown up by the huge bubble.

The syringe inside the medicine box instantly increased the Evolver’s ability. According to the content of the call, the increase time was only half an hour.

I picked up the needle that had just been randomly discarded and found that it was the same packaging as the “Small Syringes.”

….But the effect is obviously different.

Goosebumps stood up on my skin.

The medicine in the test tube is at least ten times or even a hundred times….it’s not an exaggeration to say that it’s an enhanced version, and it really improves capabilities….

Could it be said that the “small syringes” circulating around the black market is actually just a cover, and its biggest role to play is in the game?!

The other player on the call said that it has recently been improved…

MC: The potions in this game….are constantly being tested.

Perhaps what’s going around in the black market is only a large number of defective products after testing and the main messenger behind the scenes has proved that it does contain a special “existence” through medicine.

Next, he can find the special variable through countless experiments and investigations to find the answer--

The manipulator behind this game is also looking for CORE.

All prizes are bait, enticing those Evolvers and powerful ordinary people to become natural guinea pigs.

Kiro: Miss Chips…

Kiro: MC!

MC: !!

Kiro’s face suddenly appeared in front of me and I was relieved. He took my hand.

Kiro: Let’s leave here first.

As if deliberately against us, the metal collar vibrated again, but this time I saw my face appear on the screen.

Electronic voice: Ding dong.

Electronic voice: Now is the time for special missions.

Electronic voice: This time, Hunter No. 29 has been selected. All players who execute an effective attack on this player can get ten times the points.

His voice is sharp and cruel and my photo at the top of the screen is especially clear.

Electronic voice: The time limit is 30 minutes, please don’t miss it.

-End of Part 3-

Continue to Part 4

[lordrethandus]

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 13

Pride ( @daily-writing-challenge​ )

World: Warcraft

Content Warning: Minor blood and gore.

It was busy in Zaldrannar: the Black Judge. The accursed depths of the floating black citadel belonged to the dead, and lately these desolate halls have been bursting at the seams with all manner of vile reanimated creatures.They had no need for light or warmth, finding solace here in the dark. Filthy abominations lumbered around in the choking shadows, with ghouls and geists crawling along the rafters. Right above them lurked a hundred Death Knights in the dim frostfire torches on the upper levels of the undead sector, and in the center of it all was a sea of countless corpses, and an angelic Val’kyr aglow in a sickly blue light; in silence she worked, either raising them into service for her living elven master, or leaving them to be used as compost for the black citadel.

Rethandus found solace working at the giant blightforge with the mindless skeletal smiths; the monsters were mute, and perfect company for someone who didn’t like talking. Hammering away with his tools helped curb his violent tendencies too -- but like all other Death Knights, eventually he would have to leave and take on missions to slate his thirst for murder, lest the Curse of Undeath purge him of what little sanity he had left. The pile of scrap metal and broken weapons beside him began to shake from approaching footfalls. But the Harbinger didn’t bother looking up to see who it was; only one bastard threw his weight around so shamelessly.

CLONK!

Without warning a bent blade almost as big as Rethandus was tossed at his feet. “Fix my sword.” Grunted the hulking brute. Thurok the Depraved was big, even for a tauren, and his body was made even bigger by the swelling power of blood magic coursing through his rotten flesh. His long black mane remained disheveled, likely since the day of his first death, with cracked horns and a mangled snout. Ugly doesn’t even begin to describe this monster, who continued to surprise everyone with his ability to even speak without half of his lower jaw, and that gaping hole in his throat. Absolutely disgusting.

“How will you be paying for it?" Asked the Harbinger. A gurgled snort bubbled up from his throat-hole as he peeled his lips back in a grotesque attempt to smile. Immediately it got under the Harbinger's frozen skin.

"You fix for FREE." Thurok snorted indignantly. "Or I shove down throat and turn little elf man into popsicle."

Rethandus clenched his jaw as he glowered up at the audacity of this beast. Had he retained his old rank, this halfwit wouldn't have dared demand him for anything; but his usefulness to Councilor Zerethel had waned, and he was replaced by someone more willing to do his dirty work. Now he was just like everyone else in this unholy barrow of titansteel and bones -- except he was still the best blacksmith aboard Zaldrannar.

"Get someone else to fix your sword." Rethandus remained as calm as he could manage. "I'm too busy for charity."

"You fix sword NOW!" Thurok croaked, kicking at his anvil with his peeling hoof. The Harbinger slowly rose to his feet, the air around him freezing as icicles crept along the ground from his boots. He was barely a third of this tauren's weight, barely standing tall enough to headbutt the brute's bloodied snout. Other undead began to take notice and gather around to watch, but at a distance; everyone wanted a good show, but no one wanted to participate. Thurok's meaty finger jabbed Rethandus in the chest. "Angry?" He asked, gurgling with delight. "Try me, little elf. Your kind thinks they're so great… Lich King showed your worth in 'High' Kingdom. Come then… pet project. Show me what a 'Harbinger' can do." He jabbed him with his greasy finger again, and Rethandus almost snapped.

Fights between Death Knights were commonplace even back in the good old days of the Scourge, but using your runeblade against your brothers and sisters in death has been forbidden and strictly enforced since the first pillaging of Naxxramas.s always been a forbidden rule; killing fellow undead didn’t help curb the curse, and the fighting power of your unit has grown weaker as a result. Thurok was unarmed -- he saw no reason not to be. Rethandus was too small to be any real threat without his weapons, and all he had to do was grab hold of him and snap him in half. The Harbinger tightened his grip on his blacksmith hammer partially hidden behind his thigh. He was ready and willing to cave in this bastard’s skull, and he only needed one good swing to do it too. But as he was about to kill him, the memory of the promise he made just a few months prior popped back into his head.

“Mr. Andy? Can I ask you a question?” Said the six year old girl. She ran her tiny fingers through her auburn hair, tucking her locks behind her soft pointy ears. In the warmth of the Eversong Woods, aglow in the orange light of the setting sun, her bright golden eyes shimmering in the growing shadows almost put a smile on the Harbinger’s face. Her mother wasn’t too far behind, letting her spunky daughter put on a good show for the frozen killing machine. “What are those symbols on your swords?”

“What are those symbol thingies on your swords?”

“They’re Frost Runes.” He calmly answered.

“What do they do?”

“They allow me to use powerful magic to fight my enemies.”

“Why?”

“Because we tap into the runes to release their power.”

“Why?”

“… because Death Knights like me need the advantage in combat.” She fell silent for several moments, her soft round face contorted with confusion.

“Why…?” Rethandus clenched his jaw, causing bits of frost to snow from his chin.

“It’s how we were designed, I guess. See…” He paused to think of the simplest way to explain this to a child. “We are bad people. But we also fight bad people, so you and Mommy can live in peace. Do you understand?”

“You’re not bad anymore!” She squeaked defiantly. “You’re good! Do you understand? Promise me!”

Slowly Rethandus crossed his arms and tilted his head. He didn’t know the difference between good and bad anymore; it had been so long since he had to question his own moral standing that he probably couldn’t recall them. But he would humor his ward, at least so she would stop asking him so many questions. “I promise.”

She didn’t look convinced. She reached down and picked up the straightest stick she could find. “Kneel before me, and make a sodomy vow!”

“Solemn.” Rethandus quietly corrected her, before glancing over his shoulder to see her mother not far behind. Thankfully she wasn’t paying attention; if she heard the words coming out of her daughter’s mouth, she would be absolutely livid. Hesitantly he dropped to a knee and bowed his head. The little girl approached him as regally as she could manage in her bulky coat, and placed the end of the stick onto his shoulder.

“Brave sir knight, you are now forever good. You must use your swords for good things. Never bad things.” She then tapped the other shoulder. “Now rise, Mr. Andy! Rise and be good again!”

“Be good again.” Rethandus thought, staring into the pale grey eyes of this bulking Death Knight. His anger was calmed, for now, and he slowly turned his back to begin walking away from this situation; better to let Thoruk have his little victory then to stoop down to his lev-

“Coward.”

He stopped mid stride. He could feel the ice on his teeth splintering from clenching his jaw so hard. Heat rose from his frozen guts, such as it was, until the Harbinger was just about ready to explode. “Ice in pointy ears?!” Taunted Thoruk. “I call you COWAR-!”

Rethandus spun around and whipped his hammer so hard across Thoruk's face that his metal nose ring and a chunk of his snout went flying into the onlookers! Frost runes glowed on his gauntlet in the dim light when he blasted the staggering tauren with rime! Then the Harbinger jumped on him, with one hand firmly gripping a horn as the other raised his hammer high above him! Just as he brought it down to bury into his brains, Thoruk bucked forward to shake him off! Blinded by frost and rage alike, the tauren charged forward and carried the Harbinger across the room to slam into the wall!

THOCK!

Even clad in reinforced elementium from the neck down he felt his ribs and pelvis shatter! Rethandus bucked over, using his runes to refreeze his bones back into place. A fist the size of a cannonball came crashing into his back, snapping a shoulder blade! A hoof whipped upwards and knocked him onto his side! Rethandus swiped his hammer off the ground and brought it up to uppercut the tauren, but with his broken bones it didn't land nearly as hard enough to kill him!

The other Death Knights huddled around them, shouting and cheering for either man in this twisted battle to the death! Thoruk was still struggling to keep his balance from the first swing, with blood shooting from his ruined snout with each exhale. "Kill you!" He grunted, lifting a massive hoof. "Crush you!"

Rethandus barely had enough time to raise his arms before Thoruk stomped him, his right elbow snapping like brittle firewood beneath the surging unholy strength of this beast. Even if he had his helmet the Harbinger knew he wouldn’t survive another stomp, so he grabbed onto the disgusting hoof and overloaded his frost runes, freezing himself to the ground and Thoruk’s lower half. At this angle he wouldn’t be able to reach Rethandus with his own two meaty hands, and before long he would either have to submit and relinquish the fight, shatter his own legs just to kill him, or be entombed in ice until someone with authority could thaw them out. Thoruk in his maddened rage chose the fourth option. His hand stretched toward the forge. Black lightning lashed out from his fingers and yanked his bent runed greatsword from the floor. “KILL YOU!” He bellowed, raising it high above his head! Within the ice Rethandus closed his eyes and prepared for decapitation, ready to see his parents and older brother again before he was doomed to the void…

The voice of a woman calmly but loudly clearing her throat made Thoruk freeze before he stabbed downward, and the crowd of Death Knights parted like a theater curtain to let her pass. Her boots clicked and clacked against the floor as she walked, the sound echoing through the chamber from the dead silence. The tauren turned to look with his pale eyes widening in fear, and he dropped the sword like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Thoruk, Thoruk, Thoruk.” She sighed, shaking her head. “What exactly were you planning to do with that busted blade? I’m dying to know.”

“N-nothing, Istrys…!” He lied, gurgling from his throat hole and his face hole. “Rethandus tried to kill me! I was defending myself!”

“Rethandus.” The woman started, crossing her arms. “Release the cow before I let both of you remain frozen here until the end of time.” Rethandus could barely hear her beneath the ice he made, but he knew what she wanted. A low hiss came from the thawing, and as soon as he was able to lift his hoof off the Harbinger and stand normally, he did. She turned her attention back to Thoruk. “Turning your runeblade against kin is forbidden. Would you like to come with me back to my quarters to learn firsthand what happens to traitors who can’t follow the simplest of rules?”

“No, Istrys! I-it won’t happen again…!” The once hulking beast was reduced to a sniveling coward in her presence, but Rethandus didn’t blame him; Istrys was a true monster. She delighted in the suffering of living and undead alike, and was solely in charge of disciplinary actions within Zaldrannar. She was the one that replaced the Harbinger as Councilor Zerethel’s right hand, after all.

“Get out of my sight before I change my mind.” Her tone was uncomfortably gleeful. Abandoning his greatsword Thoruk did exactly as she commanded, pushing past the crowd to vanish into the black tunnels. She looked down at Rethandus with a cruel grin spreading across her dead lips. “Seems you’re injured, Andy. I guess that means you’re coming with me. Heh heh heh heh…”

[jojoboisimagines]

Johnny Joestar x Reader :: Wait for It :: Chapter 3

Previous chapter. Next chapter

Summary: Gyro is hospitalized, and now Johnny has no one to turn to. That is, until a former female rider shows him a little compassion.

.::.

"Firstly,” Johnny started. “I think I would remember a face like yours. Especially if I so-called ‘ruined’ you.” He paused for a moment, his brows furrowing at a thought. “Unless you're a girl I slept with, then I can’t really do much about that.” There had been plenty of flings the boy had in the past where he couldn't even remember their names or faces, just one detail that stuck out to him. Regardless, this chick wasn't ringing a bell on that front either.

"Tch." You sneered. Of course he didn't remember you. Why would he?

"County race. All the way back in Kentucky."

That statement had sparked his interest. He hadn't met someone from that far back since he left from there.

"I had my horse, Violet. Practically my whole family was there, cheering me on. They thought I was gonna make it big as a horse rider one day. Just if I beat this race...this one race, I'd qualify." Your head was uplifted and your eyes were closed, as if you were there all over again.

.:::.

"Five more minutes until the race starts!" The announcer's voice crackled through the speaker.

People were still gathering in their seats, some just arriving and others getting concessions for their families. Some kid had already dropped their lollipop on the ground from where you could see. It was a good crowd, more than you'd usually see in the races you participated in. You wondered why, but it didn't matter, they were all gonna see you win and be cheering wildly. Thats what you were here for.

You were prepping your horse, mother adamantly by your side making sure everything was in check.

"Do you need me to adjust your saddle? How do your boots feel?" Her questions kept coming one after another. You'd simply nod at whatever she was saying and correct her if she assumed something was wrong. That woman checked everything as if the damn horse would explode with you on it if you weren't careful enough.

"Two minutes!"

After more affirmations from her that you were going to be great, she finally retreated back to the stands. Thank god, you thought. It was finally time to get down to business.

You proudly mounted your horse, riding up to the starting line. Looking to the other side to get a glance at the other racers, you see some younger than you, some older.

It didn't matter, they would all be in your dust soon.

Or maybe that kind of thinking is what led to your downfall.

…

Everything after the race started was a blur, you genuinely can't remember.

'Damn, the other guys pulled ahead way too fast!'

'Please, let me catch up, I have to catch up, I can't lose this!'

Even your horse's hooves trotting across the firm ground became inaudible.

You were falling behind, bad. Way too bad.

By the time the race ended, you were practically numb. How could it have went that badly? You practiced hard, didn't you? You've beaten people who had similar racing styles before, what was different here?

The soundless yet somehow loud blank noise echoing through your brain turned off for a moment, just to hear the results of who had actually won.

"And first prize goes to…Johnny Joestar!"

The crowd went absolutely ballistic over him. They loved him. Your crowd...

You wish the horse exploded instead.

.::.

"Hold on a second, a county race?"

The man's voice brought you back to reality. You had touched the side of your eyes, feeling the wetness from them. Maybe it was better that you stopped there.

"Do you have any idea how long its been since I've been in one of those? What year was that? How old were you?" Johnny's tone somehow sounded both confused and accusatory.

You bristled up at him. Those were the questions he had? "It doesn't matter when, Joestar. Ever since that day, my life has been a living hell."

He sat there, waiting for you to go on. You supposed an explanation why was at least in order.

"No one ever actually believed in me. That was my one chance to prove that I could be better than what people expected of me. And I blew it. My father wanted me to quit horse riding, he was the worst of them all. I had to keep my passion a secret since then. I trained and trained until my knuckles turned white...but I knew I would never get that opportunity again. Horse riding was my life.." The tears finally started trickling down your cheeks. You hated yourself for it. Letting yourself be vulnerable in front of him.

Johnny didn't know how to respond. He could easily go with 'That's your problem, not mine' but he knew what it was like to deal with a shitty father. That just didn't seem... appropriate to respond with right now. Yet he didn't want to utter an apology either. Truth be told, he wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry about any of the races he had won back then.

"How does that relate to now though? You gonna get revenge on me or what?"

You wiped your tears, giving him a peeved glance. "I'm too mature for "revenge", Johnny Joestar."

A sentiment he wished Diego shared, honestly. He felt a sense of relief when you said that, yet the room was still engulfed in a tense atmosphere.

"Besides, you've already done this to me twice. I...ran away from home to join this stupid Steel Ball Run race, and guess who's dumbass face and name I had to see right at the top rankings?"

Now things were starting to make more sense.

Yet every answer you gave him left him with more questions. "Are you still in the race? How'd you get all the way here?"

"Of course I'm still in the race..Until I eventually decide to forfeit." You face was completely dry now, looking downward with a somber look in your eye. "Of course it doesn't matter who's horse is the fastest in this race, it's all about survival. But I'd rather just...stop while I'm ahead. My parents will be less mad if I come home now than wasting my time with however long this race is gonna last."

Another pause from Johnny. He wanted to convince himself you were being nothing but annoying to him, yet he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for you..

He blinks, not looking you in the eye. It was pretty hard to regardless, considering your eyes were glued to the floor. "You sure you wanna quit?" The Kentuckian asked with genuine curiosity.

You nod.

"Well, with that attitude, you might as well." He added. "This ain't the kind of race you join in for sport. Before you know it you'd be sleeping on rocks wondering how your life got to that point."

You give no response for a minute. You were making this really hard for him.

"Horse riding just isn't for me I guess."

The Joestar bites his lip. You were really trying him without even realizing it. What he was thinking really wasn't a good idea, but his 'to hell with it' side was slowly balancing out.

You turned around, no longer facing him, to go into the restroom and wash your face off.

Your footsteps creak against the floor until he can't take it anymore.

"I'll train you."

"..What?" Slightly turning back, you have a tired but incredulous look on your face, the puffiness of your eyes not making you look any less silly.

"I said I'll train you, alright? The way you said you just can't ride a horse for no reason pissed me off. Not trying to say you suck, but with a little bit of polish, anyone can get better, I'm sure of it." There was a determination in his eye you hadn't seen before. Not when you saw him racing back in Kentucky, or not even when he had won the trophy. Was he seriously offering to do this after all you just said?

You're completely facing him now, nodding almost too excitedly. There's almost a hint of a smile on your face, but you try to force it back with all your might.

"You'd better not change your mind halfway through. We're starting tomorrow after breakfast." He said more so in a commanding way than a supportive one. The man begins to wrap himself under the cover to turn in for the night, before turning his head back to you one more time.

"Hey wait, what's your name again?"

You can't resist the smile this time. It's a bit agitating he doesn't remember, but you cant hold it against him at this point.

"(Y/N) (L/N). It's finally a pleasure to meet you."