#next person who tells me i should make soup when i tell them i have a rabbit shall meet my blade

[riverside-lavender]

guys my bunny is so cute i might start crying over her. again.

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Previous SessionSession 2 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.3k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse ���Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone will be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone is brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely can't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise is needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lack yourself—otherwise, they won't last a second with Gojo.

It'll be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also don't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else can take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there she goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she can't handle him but because she's your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually care about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she doesn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on, trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else. Burdening her is simply out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'?" and she tilts her head, "You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really have to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she can is her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or are Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth is killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach puts the final nail in the coffin as she reminds you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you need help would be silly because technically it's true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break forever ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It would be better than nothing because if you can't function, Gojo can't be cared for.

So, who better to help bridge that gap for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock ever since you started at the ward, having your back and sticking with you through tough times when staff constantly dips in and out of the facility like a rotating door, unable to handle the job.

Yuko's a real day one, and next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patients in check.

When you really think about it, it'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest." She's too kind and right in more ways than one. "Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend?"

You roll your eyes—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

Not knowing whether to joke back or wave her off, you softly smile at her concern before nodding, vowing to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges, almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks that hog the interstate, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheery, nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers and lull you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of his melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the bubbles and get out when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from the noise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike sweep into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body says nothing is. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out and head straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you're used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you need to. The truth is painfully clear, and it's disrespectful to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, your heart beating into your ears and making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth suddenly becoming dry when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you before attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a train.

Someone as kind as her, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil is still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to help you figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, breaking your shock and drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and the stares are intense. Confusion and judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

Whether the murmurs are real or in your head, the effect is all the same, and you wish you could just completely vanish. Standing like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

But Gojo is brimming with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. Daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face that makes you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, there's something...uncertain lurking behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knows he's done something wrong.

Yet, words escape you, as if anything needs to or even could be said. But soon, fear and guilt turn to anger, threatening to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust because you are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself. Holding back tears because you know what you've done.

Your fists clench, unsure how to deal with it, but there's fire in your eyes because someone needs to pay.

But then you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at what happened the last time you decided to take things into your own hands. All of your actions, even now, are rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

Pushing down the knot growing in your stomach, you turn away to follow the medics, deciding your friend needs you more than you need revenge. Gojo doesn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it means risking your job or life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbers thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained making you nervous. You don't anyone else to get hurt and Gojo is fully exploiting that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm. But it's obviously a losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

Seeing no one else in the room, his eyes are locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it won't be enough. The goddamn military wouldn't be enough. Gojo is...the strongest, after all.

"Stop."

Your cry freezes the room. Everything goes silent.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you silently apologize to Yuko, swallowing a lump instead of looking back.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic. But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes with surprise, amazement even, before smiling.

The submission in your voice sounds better than anything he could ever imagine. A sweet tones that feed his already inflated ego.

Unsure of how to proceed, the guards exchange uneasy glances.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, that much is evident, and restraining him forever is simply not possible.

You know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this is your doing. Your mess to clean up.

So you squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling at the guards to let him go. They hesitate a second, then reluctantly agree, stepping back and leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe, hating to have to look at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. For yourself. And everyone else in the ward.

But Gojo's satisfied grin says it all. He's won this round.

You're ready to get the next over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head clean off if he wanted to.

Still, Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And you didn't need to ask why. The entire ward shoots daggers at you any time someone walks by now.

Your supervisor reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then she patted your back as if to say, "Lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding his half out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering as he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting. Taking a deep breath, you placed them both on your tongues, in disbelief at your reality, but Gojo's focus was elsewhere, not wasting this prime opportunity to rattle you more and taste you, closing his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed, no longer needing the water you had set aside, and a confusing mix of emotions churned as the tingles spread throughout your body.

Making good on his promise, he swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes. Like he knows what he does to you. And despite just witnessing this man's violence firsthand, you'd give anything to deny that he still has an effect on you. Hating yourself for being more concerned with the way he looked at you and the lingering sensation on your skin than the tranquilizer now coursing through your system.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you, followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo, a stereotypical warning lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers and laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, the keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around and face him, furious. What would be better? Slapping him, kicking him, or knocking his teeth out. Or should you be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water and you let it rain down. None of the above will do you any good, but it'll show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny," it fumes out before you know you're speaking, "You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend." Your rage echos through the vast bathroom.

Gojo's laugh fades, his smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches. You’re fully positive you must be dreaming.

But when he doesn’t make a joke or even crack a smile, you squint at him.

The words are muttered and reluctant, but there they are, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races as you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for, but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue than to waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Fuck, you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that, stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he ever truly means them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns and overshadows your doubts, twisting your stomach into knots with that familiar smile of his.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it is, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind at the moment other than frustration because you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another lame joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." and he winks.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory, a fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now—because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands; the evidence of him not as invincible as he seems is jarring. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. Still, it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers as it fills the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away, and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and you feel sick for even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward and lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water, but the rustling sound of his shirt being pulled overhead and pants falling to the ground warms your cheeks.

His physique certainly isn't lacking, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, shamefully darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. How cute, he thinks, trying to hide away your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you toss in his loofah. "Well...go on. It's ready." But Gojo only grins, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Relishing in the fact that he still manages to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the conflict swirling in your stuttering heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he refuses to stop playing. Everything is always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by the sound of splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. Picking up a handful, he actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away, and his pale eyes flutter and settle on you in a curious way.

His arms flex as he leans over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with that ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him still being so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with suds.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster, and you're still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

Then again, this is what you signed up for...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption some sort of redemption no matter how sick and twisted the person in need is.

With your loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today and keep your morals in mind. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before proceeding to do your job.

Gently washing his back, he sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of raised marks between the foam, and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to his dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won, the evidence of his past before corruption—everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

You've never really noticed because this level of care is another first for you. Usually, Gojo just hops into the shower and takes care of himself while you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably ends up stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs while making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his stomach, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery for this monster so he can handle this himself again.

You ignore his comment and try to get this over with as quickly as possible, feeling humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

God, please make him shut up, begging for relief so you won't scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

It feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" His velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, and down his sides, the rhythm almost hypnotic and making his head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, but you're losing the battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

And fuck, he has to bite his lip at your touch that suddenly feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself, and one that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again, setting a new record as you're hit not once, but twice in a day. The loofah slips from your hand as you instinctively reach up to shield yourself, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream is ready to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand, placing a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." A lone droplet hangs from your eyelash and he swipes it. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, your nerves on fire as you're forced into close proximity with him for the second time today, inches away from his face that gradually softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better too but he never felt threatened in the first place. Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach, and his finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

His eyes flicker to your bottom lip. "You're so good at your job, Nurse," smoothly pulling it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to me, let alone deal with me, and yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel. "You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of this.

Hesitating, you're unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will do against me then, hmm?" Gojo knows he's a prodigy, but still manages to surprise himself sometimes, his eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter, and he can almost feel a prick from the daggers in your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that," he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

His head slightly tilts.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God, I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing, but instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark, wondering what his idea of "fun" is like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, burning hot between your legs instead.

Fuck, you have to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. With a gruff, you lower to your knees, beginning to dry the floor of his messes and hoping to distract yourself from your questionable sanity.

The sounds of rustling fabric fill the chamber as he dries off, and once you figure it's safe, you look up to find a nude Gojo. Dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

A sliver of your midriff peeked out as you stood on your toes to reach it, but what captured Gojo's attention most was the way the sun rays washed over your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of your strands between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your reaction was...odd.

Not only was this the first time anyone cared to do something so simple for Gojo, but it was also the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict. Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then, you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound, so natural and pure without hesitation. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again. "Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?" he sighed.

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward then, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off, and who could blame her?

You were an anomaly, Gojo already showed that he was capable of mercy and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova," she teased, clearing her throat with a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way Gojo stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you couldn't feel more conflicted, scrambling to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall, taking deep breaths and completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

This force that keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, and Yuko flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurker in the shadows watching and anticipating your every move. Have you become predictable? Now you're wondering if you could do something he wouldn't expect.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You're scrolling through your phone on a deep-diving, scouring the web for any info on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

But the man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible, conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They've damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own mind. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax as sleep eludes you and your mind wanders to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to see him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[littledovesnow]

any era snow with a sick s/o? 🫣🫣

even if its just a cold i feel like hed 100% worry over them

first of all, i love the 🫣 emoji it's one of my most frequently used ones teehee. second of all, god i love protective worry-wart coriolanus

Keeping the mug of steaming coffee under your nose, you relished in the temporary relief it provided for your congestion.

"Do you want me to call Coriolanus?"

You peered over the mug at Lucky Flickerman, who had stopped pruning his mustache to look at you, worry on his face.

Shaking your head, you gripped onto the back of the chair next to you while the world teetered for a moment. "No, I'm fine. I don't want to worry him, it's the first year Coryo's working as a Gamemaker, he needs to be focused."

Lucky chose not to comment on how your "fine" sounded more like "find" with how congested you are, but the frown on his face persisted.

"What's with that look, didn't your mother ever tell you if you stay like that it'll freeze?"

Lucky was going to reply, but a rough cough from deep in your chest cut him off. "That's it, you're going home."

"You're not my boss." You replied, though you agreed with the brown-haired man. "But yeah, I think I should go home."

Lucky had an assistant at the studio call for a car, patting your back as you were caught up in another coughing spell.

"Don't tell Coryo." You pointed a finger at him, dropping into the plush interior of the car.

--

Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment you two had recently moved in to, trying to let go of the stress and work-related issues at the door.

He frowned when he heard a hacking sound from the bedroom, and he noticed your bag and coat strewn across the couch. You usually weren't home until later, helping out where you could at the Capitol News studio.

"Love?" He called, walking down the short call to the bedroom.

"No, no, don't come in!" You said, pitiful look on your face. "I'm sick, and you can't get sick, the Games are coming up."

Coriolanus tsked as disregarded your command to stay out of the room, instead pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're warm. Why didn't you have someone call me at the Citadel?"

Shrugging, you leaned into Coriolanus' cool hand, relishing in the feeling against your feverish cheek. "Didn't want to worry you, it's just a cold."

Coriolanus sucked his teeth, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and re-emerging with a small glass of water, setting it on the bedside table. "I always worry about you, love. Cold or the plague, you're the number one thing on my mind."

You rolled your eyes at the plague comment, knowing you could be quite the dramatic person when ill. "That's sweet, Coryo. But you're going to get sick, and then Dr. Gaul will unleash one of her mutts on me if she finds out I'm the reason her star pupil is sick for the Games."

Laughing, Coriolanus patted your comforter-covered leg as he quickly changed into something more comfortable. "Why don't you grovel in the thoughts of what mutt she might unleash while I work on some soup, hm?"

"Oh, please call Tigris. I don't want to have food poisoning on top of a cold!" You called, breaking into a cough at the end of the statement.

Coriolanus shook his head as he walked out into the kitchen, following your wish to phone his cousin and have her make some soup, knowing he wouldn't do the Snow recipe justice.

send some blurbs here!

[apomaro-mellow]

King&Prince 3

Steve didn't know how long he'd been in here between being knocked out and the fact that there was no window to help him tell the time. But it must've been a few hours at least, because someone came down to feed him. The person was nondescript besides the scowl on their face as they pretty much tossed the tray at him. It skid across the floor and Steve saw that it was some bread and some soup.

Steve reached for the soup first, wanting something to warm him only to find that it was just barely above his own body temperature. And something slimy was in it. He winced, making his deliveryman laugh.

"Eat up, your highness", he sneered before leaving him to it.

Steve tried the bread next. It was only slightly stale and he wondered if he should be rationing it. This could be his only meal for the next twenty four hours. They intended to return him home but that didn't mean he had to be in perfect condition. They could keep him on the brink if it suited them.

In the end, he decided to finish it all now. He looked at what he was left with. A spoon, a bowl, and a tray. He could probably use any of the three as a weapon, but that did nothing for his locked cell. Steve spent the next few hours, formulating a plan.

He would've thought about it longer, but that was when someone came to serve what must be dinner. That is unless they served bread and soup for breakfast here. It was someone different, but they handed him the tray in much the same way, sliding it in small space under the bars.

"I need to relieve myself", Steve announced.

"And? You've got four corners."

"So I'm just supposed to shit in the corner?"

"Enjoy your slop", he said, turning to leave when Steve grabbed an arm through the bars and twisted it behind his back and raised the spoon to his throat. It was probably the least threatening thing ever but his current warden was frozen.

"What the hell!?"

"You're going to let me out. Or else."

"Or else what? You'll spoon me to death?", he let out a choke of laughter as Steve pressed down.

"I think that's exactly what I'll do", Steve said as he slid the spoon up his neck, up his face and towards his eye.

"Waitwaitwait! I don't even have the keys! Only the king can let you out!"

"Are you lying to me?", Steve asked, his voice low.

"No! I promise. He's the only one with a key to this place. We don't keep a lot of prisoners!"

Steve waited a moment to see if there were any tells that might show dishonesty before dropping the spoon and backing away from the bars.

"In that case, I request an audience with your king. A prisoner I may be, but these current accommodations are not to my standards."

His guard gave him an incredulous look as he caught his breath and regained his wits. "Are you serious? You're making demands?"

Steve crossed his arms. "I am not going to shit where I sleep."

"No one here gives a fuck about what you want. Get used to that prince."

He spat out the word 'prince' like it was a slur. Steve didn't have a huge flock of fans back home, but the blatant disrespect was so foreign. He was left alone to figure out how he was going to keep his cell from smelling like a latrine.

Eddie sent out a letter the very day he had Steve in his keep, flying on the wing of one of his demobats so that there was no mistaking who the letter came from. Steve didn't know how things were going outside his limited scope though, and tried to make the best of his situation. He considered positioning his stream outside the cell and also leaving his solid waste as close to the bars as possible just to piss off whoever came down here, but considering that meant it might touch his food, he refrained.

There wasn't the smell of rot or waste here, so that could only mean prisoners weren't meant to be here long. That either meant they had different cells for long time stays. Or...

Steve brought a hand to his throat. He wouldn't think of 'or' right now. He paced around, considering trying to dig a hole in the softest part of the stone (what an oxymoron), when his foot stumbled against something. There was a small panel, it seemed. And when he opened it, it was a bottomless, black hole. Well what better place for waste to go?

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

Steve was pretty sure a couple of days had passed, just from the amount of meals he'd been given. But he knew he looked more destitute than that. A side effect of having to choose between tearing up his blanket to wipe himself with or tearing his own clothes. And only one of those was comfortable on his ass.

It was probably about three days in when he got a new visitor. This one still brought food but he was also significantly younger than the others. A literal child.

"Whoa. So you're the guy who tried to kill someone with a spoon?" The boy tilted his head, inspecting Steve. "You don't look that dangerous."

"Give me a spoon and let's test your theory", Steve said, sitting against the far wall, waiting for the tray to be passed over. It seemed fitting that a demonic king would be using child labor.

"Spoons are too easy", the boy said. "Now if you could threaten someone wiiiiith your pinky! Yeah if it was your pinky that would be intimidating."

"My pinky?"

"Yeah", the boy nodded, flopping his brown curls around.

Steve held up his pinky. "You could poke someone's eyes out, hold them up by the nose, break their other fingers with enough force, just to name a couple of things."

"That's almost every orifice. I guess the ears aren't too vulnerable. But what about the ass?"

Steve's face scrunched up, confused as to what the boy was talking about and why he was having this conversation. "What about the ass?"

"You could stick a finger up there. Really disorient a person."

"...Yeah it'd do that. But you wouldn't really do that to an enemy."

"Why?"

"How old are you?", Steve asked.

"Thirteen."

"Ask someone when you're older."

"Oh come on! I'm not a baby."

Steve cracked his first smile in days. He thought of himself back at thirteen. It wasn't that long ago but he was both embarrassed and nostalgic for that age. "Just hand the food over, kid."

"You and Eddie. One day the youth will rise you know", the boy said as he pushed the food over.

Hearing that definitely made Steve feel older than he was but he tried to ignore it. What was harder to ignore was that the kid kept coming back. Steve had gotten used to a new face every time a new meal was delivered. But this kid, who he learned was named Dustin, came every time now. He asked Steve questions about how to kill people.

Steve told him flat out he'd never killed anyone, was just trained to. So Dustin rephrased to ask how he would kill someone. It still seemed like a morbid topic to have with someone locked up, but it wasn't like Steve had anything else to do. So he told Dustin what he knew. About people's typical weak spots, about the best weapon to use for what sort of damage he was looking for.

He never considered that Dustin might be performing espionage. He was just a kid after all. And when Steve wasn't talking about headlocks versus full body grappling, Dustin was talking about his friends. It was mostly Will, Mike, and Lucas. Sometimes and El was thrown in there. And then there was this Eddie character. Someone who drove Dustin up the wall but also clearly had the boy's admiration.

Apparently Eddie told stories to Dustin and his friends and let them insert their own characters, and gave them a chance to interact with the story. It was fun and Eddie challenged them with obstacles. But it was frustrating when they couldn't decide on the best course of action and Eddie bested them.

Steve had never heard of interactive storytelling like that. And he had to admit it was a good way to engage with kids, not that he had much experience with that.

Around the fourth day since Dustin's arrival, probably about a week or so in to Steve's stay, he really took in Steve's appearance and it surroundings.

"I should ask Eddie about getting you some new clothes. And maybe, I don't know freshen things here? We've never kept somebody down here this long."

Steve figured that. "How is Eddie going to get me anything?"

Dustin looked at him like he was a child. "He's got some pretty big pull around here."

Steve doubted that. Eddie sounded like perhaps a servant with a soft spot for the children of the castle, regardless of their station. Maybe he was a knight and Dustin had been downplaying his nobility? Either way, Steve wasn't going to hold his breath. It didn't matter who Eddie was. King Edward was like stone, he was sure. Listening to no one.

Part 5

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld

[cainluvr69]

"Creeping Shadows" Cain SR Card Story - Boiling Sensibilities

Cain: Alright, so let's do this here… And put these herbs in next…

Snow: My, I thought I smelled something nice, and who should I find when I follow the scent but you. What's in that big pot you have? Are you cooking something, perchance?

Cain: Oh, Lord Snow. I'm trying to make that "curry" thing Master Sage was talking about, since it's apparently a camping mainstay.

Snow: …Courier?

Cain: No, curry. It's a kind of soup that's made by just throwing in all sorts of ingredients and boiling them together.

Snow: Ohoho, so a type of cooking you excel at, I see. I recall you saying you were just going to "boil up" breakfast for White and I once.

Cain: Ahaha, did I? Well I mean, pretty much anything in the world can be eaten if you boil or fry it.

Snow: Is that true…? Are you sure…?

Cain: So anyways, Akira and the previous Sage said that curry is spicy, with a brown roux, and that it smells really good.

Snow: I see, I see! So we've got a rather fiery soup on our hands, then. So would those herbs you put in be the finishing touch on the fabled "curry" flavor?

Cain: Honestly? I have no idea.

Snow: What.

Cain: Neither of the Sages could remember exactly what kind or how many herbs or spices are supposed to go into it. So the first time I tried to make it, it didn't really turn out very well, but there's all sorts of herbs growing around here, yeah? I figure if I put in a bunch of the herbs here that are close enough to how they remember it, it'll turn out better this time.

Snow: So you're just shooting blindly until you hit the target????

Cain: I'm being pragmatic about it. And well, I've definitely got the spice, but the color and aroma aren't quite right, I think. Please, Lord Snow. Could you also add something that you think might be good?

✦✧☾✧✦

Snow: Goodness, me too? Why, that sounds… …Super duper fun! Absolutely! But you'll be taking responsibility for it, Cain dearest!

Cain: Of course I will. Alright, let's get back to the hunt now.

Snow: How do these herbs seem to you? If my memory hasn't failed me yet they should add a nice bit of spice.

Cain: Sounds great! Go for it, toss 'em in. Ooh! It's smelling great!

Snow: It's still not exactly brown, though. It's almost minestrone-like.

Cain: Hmm… Oh! How about we add some of those yellow flowers over there?

Snow: Sure, why not! In they go!

Snow & Cain: …! Is this…!!

✦✧☾✧✦

Snow & Cain: We did iiiit!! Clap clap clap!

Cain: The moment we added those flowers, we hit "spicy", "brown", and "smells good" all in one go! Now it's time for the taste test. C'mon, you try it too.

Snow: Huh?! Umm~mm, I think I'd like to hear your review first, Cain dear!

Cain: You sure? Well then, here I go. Munch… …It's good!

Snow: For real?! Then, I suppose I shall as well… Munch. …Goodness, this really is quite divine!

Cain: Right?

Snow: I know I'm the one who added the final ingredients, but goodness, I'm amazed we ended up here with such rando--ahem, pragmatism.

Cain: Ahaha. Maybe you've just got a talent for boiling things up! I only could've done this with your help, Lord Snow. Thank you very much. Yay!

Snow: Ya~ay! High five!

Cain: Alright, lemme go call the Sage. I really hope they like our curry!

Training Episode: Typical Toppings

Cain: Master Sage. Did you enjoy the curry we made the other day?

Akira: Right, I wanted to tell you!! It was absolutely perfectly currylike. Thank you so much for letting me taste something from home.

Cain: Nice! I'm happy you liked it. You were eating it with bread, right?

Akira: Yeah, I wanted to pair it with some carbs. But yeah, next time, I'd really want to have it with rice instead. Oh, and then putting pickled veggies and cheese on top too… Oh, but scallions or egg would be good too. Ohh, my imagination's starting to get away from me now that I'm thinking about home…

Cain: Pickles…? And eggs and cheese? It's a very versatile food, huh.

Akira: It really is. It all comes down to personal preference, of course, but putting on all your favorite toppings is definitely one way to enjoy curry.

Cain: Ooh! Yeah, it did taste like just about anything could go well with it. Then I want to add some fried meat. Not fried as-is like I usually make, but properly breaded 'n stuff. Fried oasis pig meat would probably go great with it.

Akira: …Oh, I know, like katsu curry! We had that in my world, too! In fact it's so common that you'd see it on a store's menu separate from regular curry. I bet you'd love it, Cain.

Cain: Nice, a special Sage suggestion. I'll definitely have to try it out, then. I was just putting stuff in randomly, so I don't know if I'll be able to recreate that exact recipe, but… Next time we're in the area, I'll do my best!

[spookmemepls]

☠ ― 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑 (𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿) 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠. (𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑.)

"You've got another half-hour to practice."

"Relax... drink a strong cup of herbal tea."

"Everything has a purpose... even here."

"I'm stuck! I'm stuck...!"

"I can't do it. I can't sing."

"There's nothing to be afraid of; I shall be with you."

"I'm sure you'll make us all very proud."

"Oh, what am I going to do, ___...?"

"I'll go back later when it's all over."

"Oh dear, I'll be so late!"

"That's strange..."

"Now that I'm in, how do I get out?"

"If only I were smaller..."

"That wasn't there before..."

"I wonder if it's alright to drink/eat?"

"Oh ___ will be absolutely savage if I keep her/him/them/etc. waiting!"

"Are you crying?"

"Well, fortunately I speak "crying" and "sobbing" fluently."

"Yesterday everything was so normal... now look at me."

"H-how did you know my name?"

"I've a very important lecture to deliver, and everyone will be there!"

"What's your name, if it isn't a rude question?"

"Oh, you're wet...!"

"Get on with it!"

"I don't like the sound of it."

"The best thing to get someone dry would be... a caucus-race!"

"What's a caucus-race?"

"An extraordinary display of skill, determination, and sheer stupidity!"

"No man calls me deformed unless he's certified!"

"Who's going to give the prizes?"

"I think it's time we were all in bed with a cup of hot chocolate."

"What have you lost?"

"What are YOU doing here?!"

"I'm trying to get into the beautiful garden."

"They're treating me like I'm their housemaid!"

"Some of these things must be priceless... or even more expensive."

"I think I'll keep these, they may come in handy later."

"I might have coward's legs but the rest of me's brave as a lion!"

"I'm too rich! I can't afford to die!"

"Why won't anyone help me? I can't do it by myself!"

"We must burn down the house!"

"No one will think of looking for me there."

"I used to read fairy tales; I never thought I would end up in the middle of one."

"There ought to be a book written about me."

"Explain yourself, or you will find yourself on a charge."

"I don't think you should talk to me like that."

"You mustn't be afraid. That's worse than not remembering."

"Meanwhile, I'm going to sit here until tomorrow. Or the next day perhaps, or even for a whole week."

"It's no use talking to you!"

"PEPPERRRR! MOOOORE PEPPERRRRR!!!!"

"I best get you out of here; they're SURE to kill you!"

"You shouldn't make personal remarks, it's very rude."

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Kindly leave the stage by the red door. There's a fifty-foot drop on the other side!"

"Disgraceful! You'll hear from my solicitor in the morning!"

"This is the most stupid tea party I've ever been to."

"At last. The perfect place to hide."

"Children have no respect for their betters these days..."

"I won't let you be beheaded."

"Do you play croquet?"

"I don't like it here. They're too fond of beheading people."

"Old age is not for weaklings."

"Beau-tiful soup, beau-tiful soup! Soup of the evening!"

"You see, I carry my bag upside down so my sandwiches don't get wet when it rains."

"You keep falling off your horse!"

"How can you keep talking when you're like this?"

"Now I must leave you. I've still dragons to slay, young ladies to rescue."

"You look worried. You're too young to worry."

"Just be brave... and always get back on your horse."

"Can you tell me how to get out of the forest?"

"It's your own fault, ___. You're too easy."

"I stand before you full of remorse and malnutrition!"

"I've all the money I need for the rest of my life... provided I die by 1 AM tomorrow morning."

"...Then you don't need us/me anymore."

[shunin-gumis]

Designs of Happiness - Track A13

L4mps Main Story Translation

Title: POTHARU

Characters: Toi, Akuta, Nagi, Raito, Yodaka

Summary: The protagonist is invited by Akuta and Raito to the Friday Film viewing, along with Nagi and Toi. Sympathizing with the shy Nagi, Toi decides to join for his sake. 

Thank you aca @463ce6, jes @arcanecrayonn myun @/myuntachis and Niri for helping me with proofing!

Location: HAMA House - Personal Room

Akuta: The Friday Film Show is about to S.T.A.R.T! 

Momiji: I knew it’d be you, Akuta-kun. But, Raito-san as well? You’re an odd pair to spot together. 

Raito: It’s true. One night, I’d found him face down in the hallway because he was too hungry, so I took him out to have some late-night ramen. He’s been attached to my hip ever since. 

Akuta: A debt of gratitude that tastes like firm noodles, thick soup, extra oil and topped with a ramen egg, along with a side of a chunky chashu bowl! 

Momiji: Ahaha, I’m glad to see that the fellow leaders are getting along with each other.

Raito: Indeed. I find him adorable in a different way than I do Nayuki. 

Momiji: (Akuta-kun does kind of make you want to treat him like a younger brother… Meanwhile Nayuki is like a cat that refuses to fall for any bait Raito-san might throw his way…)

Akuta: C’mon, come ON!! Let’s get a move on already! We gotta go ‘round the other rooms too!

Raito: You’re right, we’re short on time. The film playing tonight is “Spirited Away to the Valley in the Sky.” It’s Studio Ghizli’s masterpiece*, so Akuta is full of energy.

Akuta: Teach and… uh, Nagi-san, and Toi-san? You two want in?

Nagi and Toi: Oh, um… 

Raito: This would be a good opportunity to deepen our bonds. 

Akuta: Heck yeah! We can be buddies who finish each other’s popcorn! Come watch with us~

Momiji: Ahaha! We got it already, we’ll see you there. 

Akuta: ASAP, ‘kay!? Aight! Onwards to the next room!

Raito: Akuta, we just came from that direction.

*Raito and Akuta leave*

Momiji: …And that’s that. Since we’ve settled on where to go for the study trip, we should head down for the film viewing. 

Toi: Ah, yes… There’s gonna be a lot of people, huh…?

Momiji: Probably, but… What’s wrong? You look restless all of a sudden. You were bouncing around during the party last time though.

Toi: T-That’s because I was in the presence of Chii-sama! I might have… maybe lost my mind over the excitement…

Momij: (So he was in something of a trance back then… and this is what Toi-kun is usually like?)

Toi: T-There’s gonna be so many people I don’t know… I can’t help but feel nervous… Oh, if only Ani-sama was here with me… 

Momiji: How about you, Nagi-kun?

 

Nagi: I… 

Momiji: Yeah?

Nagi: I don’t think I’m a good match for party people… I might just end up getting swept away in the middle of it… 

Momiji: Party people?

Nagi: Oh… She’s not even aware she’s one of them… I stand in the presence of a true partygoer… 

Momiji: Aw, c’mon, we're just watching a movie together. Don’t worry, it’s not that scary, you’ll be alright.  

Nagi: Wow, you’re just like Naumica when she was comforting the Eihm*. 

Toi: Nagi-san, I’m begging you!

Toi: Would you please come with us…? I think I might just die from loneliness if no one from the Night Team is there… 

Nagi: ….. 

Momiji: Um, you don’t have to force yourself if you don’t want to. It was a sudden invite after all.

Nagi: …It’s okay. I feel reassured if Toi is going too. 

Toi: I’m so glad you understand… I feel a lot better already~

Momiji: (I… can’t really tell if Toi-kun is actually shy or not, but it looks like he could empathize with Nagi-kun.)

Nagi: So let’s go, together. 

Toi: Yay! 

Location: HAMA House - Living Room

Ten: Valley in the Sky sure is a blast to the past~ I was totally attached to the protagonist when I was a kid. 

Nanaki: Watching your loved one float down from the sky… It’s really romantic. 

Kinari: …… 

Kiroku: Azekawa-san… Have you… not watched… Spirited Away… to the Valley… in the Sky… before…? 

Kinari: I have a memory of watching it. Once. At a movie theater. 

Ushio: Huh, at a theater? How long ago was that? 

Yachiyo: Oh, they tend to re-screen movies at the theaters to commemorate its anniversary right~ I’d love to see it on the big screen too~ 

Momiji: Ooh, it’s nice to see everyone all together here! And there’s even pizza! 

Renga: Chief, your seat’s over there. Nagi and Toi, on this side. Feel free to dig in.

Toi: Oh, um… Thank you very much… Nagi-san, sit next to me, over here! 

Nagi: Okay. Thank you too, Renga. 

Renga: Well, like I said before… There’s no need to be so formal with us. 

Nagi: …Yeah. 

Muneuji: Looks like we made it in time. 

Akuta: OH FUDGE!! Don’t start without us~!

Momiji: Welcome back, you two. Right, Akuta-kun, about the cake… 

Akuta: Oh, yeah! I was rushin’ all over the place so I forgot all about it. I gotta apologize to Nagi-san directly… 

Nagi: …I was never upset about the cake. I heard you went out of your way to get me another one, so I feel bad about that… 

Akuta: Huhh? What’re YOU feeling bad for, Nagi-san? I don’t get it but, you’re a funny guy! 

Akuta: I mean it f’real though, sorry ‘bout eating your slice.

Akuta: I couldn’t stop myself even after I figured it was yours… My self-control was NOT at the wheel. 

Nagi: It’s all good. I think that was very human of you, don’t worry. 

Momiji: Isn’t that great, Akuta-kun?

Akuta: Yeah! Thanks a bunch Nagi-san! 

Toi: Um… Are Kafka-san and the others not joining us? 

Sakujiro: He said that he would return when the words of destruction are chanted: “Power That Ruins,” in short, POTHARU*.

Momiji: So, at the very last minute huh… 

Akuta: Yo, it’s starting!! Also this pizza’s crazy good! 

Ten: I was a fan of “When My Neighbor Dorodoro Was There” too~ Couldn’t help but empathize with Ganta as a kid, y’know?

Tao: Woah, knew I’d smelled something delicious. Turns out you guys are having a Studio Ghizli party, huh? Mind if I join?

Yachiyo: Of course~ I’m ordering a second round of pizza right now~

Momiji: (Looks like everyone’s having fun… Despite coming from all walks of life, we’re all like one big family here.)

Nagi: ……

Toi: …… 

Momiji: (Those two look like they still need some time to break the ice… But I’m sure it’ll be okay.)

Momiji: (I hope they can all get along with each other soon…)

Nagi: …… 

Toi: Uh-Uhm…. I’ll take a quick bathroom break… 

Location: HAMA House - 3rd floor balcony

Toi: Phew~ That was nerve-wracking… 

Toi: (I’d like to get along with them but… I just can’t seem to find the courage without Ani-sama by my side…)

Toi: Still… I have to try my best. 

Netaro: Mm.

Toi: Oh, Netaro-san… You look tired.

Netaro: I was holed up in our room cooking up the invention of the century, the “Five Senses times One Billion Sticker” all day, and before I knew it, it was already this late… 

Netaro: Which reminds me, I found this strange note attached to the door. 

Toi: Ah, I’m sure that’s a memo left by Akuta-kun. It must be from when he was going around and inviting people to the film viewing. 

Netaro: Hmm~ If that is the case, why are you loitering about up here, mumbling all on your lonesome?

Toi: That’s, um… It’s fun being with everyone, but I'm still nervous around them… 

Netaro: Nerves, I see~

Toi: I hope I can feel more relaxed by the time we get to POTHARU… 

Netaro: POTHARU?

Toi: Huh? You don’t know POTHARU?

Netaro: Never heard of it. Nor read of it. Is it some ancient French term? Or perhaps, it’s a distant relative of paratha*?

Toi: Don’t tell me, you’ve never watched any Studio Ghizli films?

Netaro: Non.

Toi: No way! I didn’t think there was anyone in JPN who hasn’t watched them yet!

Netaro: Wow, is that so! Perhaps I am something of a rarity? Huzzah!

Toi: Wha… Is that something to be happy about?

Netaro: Once you watch it, you can never go back! Therefore I have the advantage when it comes to non-reversibility! 

Toi: Pft-ahaha! You have a point! But Ani-sama and I are both big fans of Studio Ghizli’s works, so I really recommend watching it! 

Toi: Ah, but we’re already halfway through the film now… 

Toi: Um! If you’d like, I can explain the first half of the plot for you! We just have to sit together. 

Netaro: Hm~ Movies and dramas are an excellent look into the human thought process, so I enjoy them very much~

Netaro: Yes, I shall join you.

Toi: Then let’s head down to the living room together! 

Location: HAMA House - Living Room

Yodaka: …I hurried back because I was told to make it in time for POTHARU, but… 

Akuta: Now!! Time to POTHARU–!!

Muneuji: Isotake, I think you’re being too loud. 

Renga: Can’t help but get excited at this scene huh? I get it. I remember when I first watched it too, at an outdoor screening… 

Kiroku: The pizza… is tasty… 

Momiji: Eating pizza when watching a movie just hits different huh?

Yodaka: …It feels like a party in full swing. It’s always wonderful to witness such harmonious revelry. However… 

Nagi: …… 

Yodaka: (At the heart of the living room stands Nagi, lost and alone…)

Yodaka: (It’s as though I’m looking at a Milet* painting… Nagi’s shadow is so faint that he blends in with his surroundings without anyone noticing…)

Akuta: Aw, man! Not a commercial right when it was getting good!

Nanaki: Even though I know how it ends, I still get all anxious.

Akuta: Hey guys, let’s all hold hands when it’s time to POTHARU! It’ll be so hype!!

Ushio: Hell no.

Ten: I’m cool with it~

Nagi: …… 

*Nagi leaves*

Yodaka: …… 

Yodaka: Fufu… I suppose it can’t be helped. That part of you is lovable as well. 

Yodaka: (Regardless, I can’t help but be concerned. You will have to forgive my meddling, Nagi.)

Momiji: I wonder if I could get away with eating some potato chips this late at night…

Yodaka: Chief, could I speak with you? 

Notes:

Studio Ghizli is a parody of Studio Ghibli, and “Spirited Away to the Valley in the Sky” is a mash-up of 3 movies - Spirited Away, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, and Laputa: Castle in the Sky. Meanwhile “When My Neighbor Dorodoro Was There” is a mash-up of My Neighbor Totoro and When Marnie Was There. 

The title originally spells “PANYOSU” which is a play on the spell BARUSU used in Laputa Castle in the sky. It’s a spell that causes the self-destruction of the castle at the climax of the movie.

Sakujiro explains that it is the shortened form of "Power, Scepter, Throttle" (PA-wa, NYO-i, SU-rottoru) which I decided to localize to “Power That Ruins” (POTHARU), which I found out later can mean “you will leave/die” in Telugu.

Similarly, Netaro asks if PANYOSU is a relative of Nachos, which I localized to paratha (an indian flatbread) to match POTHARU.

Nagi compares the player to Nausicaa, the heroine from Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, when she was comforting the baby Ohm that is hurt and scared near the end of the movie.

The painter Yodaka thinks of, Milet, is most likely a play on Claude Monet, an impressionist artist. Yodaka compares Nagi to Monet’s paintings, to speak of how there’s only a faint ‘impression’ of Nagi and that it doesn’t feel reflective of reality. 

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Masterlist

[trexalicious]

A scathingly brilliant piece from Jan Moir...🤣

Like a cavalry galloping to the rescue of their wounded leaders, former and current employees of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex rushed into print this week to big up their bosses.

In the pages of Us Weekly, an influential American showbiz magazine popular with teens and teen-moms, print and online readers were breathlessly informed by Team Sussex that Prince Harry was a super-great guy, no airs and graces, just a regular dude, rah-rah-rah.

Meanwhile, what about girlboss Meghan? According to those who worked for her and lived to tell the tale, she was completely marvellous, too. No, really. Pass me that halo and let her duchessy love light shine.

For she was kind and thoughtful. She made great gourmet snacks. 'Some of my favourite memories,' said former Archewell president Mandana Dayani, who lasted 18 months until she left in 2022, 'were during our weekly meetings in her Montecito home, where Meghan always served the most incredible lunches and her latest beautiful concoctions.'

I am imagining exquisite delicacies such as 'vegetable soup' and 'green salad', ­possibly even a delightful 'egg‑based ­omelette' sourced from the in-house ­rescue chickens.

As the Sussex staff detailed the ­positives for posterity, it was hard to determine the true nature of their ­relationship with their bosses. Attorney-­client, doctor-patient, jailer-inmate, star-civilian, duchess-serf?

And was it my imagination or were the outpourings of these worker drones ­reminiscent of the rising hysteria of ­someone chained to a radiator in the basement of Archewell Towers, hoping to get home by Christmas?

According to their parti pris gibberish, Meghan was a Tinker Bell of titbits, a Mother Teresa of munificence; this gift-giving goddess who lavished staff with bow-tied presents and on-brand sharing and caring.

'When I adopted my dog, the next day I had a luxury-brand leash and new collar on my doorstep,' said one former staffer, who amusingly thought the gifts were for her pup.

'They want to take care of us,' one ­current employee told Us Weekly. 'Meghan will do things like: 'You mentioned on the call your skin is bothering you. I put together a kit for you.'

Is that being kind and helpful? Is that tending to the pimpled lame – or a tacit message to up their game?

For those of us who have spent a ­lifetime working in offices and assorted workplaces, alongside good bosses and bad, the thought of a superior sending you a tub of wrinkle cream or some self‑improving unguent, well, it just makes me want to die.

But listen, there is more. Meghan, said one staffer, is known for giving credit where it's due.

'If you're in a meeting and a great idea is referenced, she makes sure to give props [respect and appreciation] to the person who generated the idea,' they said. 'And after a big trip, every employee gets a personal email thanking them for their contribution in making it a success.'

An email! Oh, how lovely. Isn't this low-level respect the very least a valued member of staff deserves?

These fawning responses in Us Weekly came in riposte to a ­damning article in The Hollywood Reporter, which stated that the Duchess's 'terrible behaviour' was the root cause of the high ­turnover rate of staff at the couple's Archewell company.

The report in the entertainment industry bible earlier this month claimed that many of those who work and have worked for Meghan are 'terrified' of her. It included quotes from sources calling her a 'dictator in high heels' who ­'belittles' people and has reduced 'grown men to tears'.

I should point out here that Us Weekly is to the Sussexes what Pravda was to Stalin and what The Guardian is to Labour MP Jess Phillips – a blaring bugle of uncritical support. So, we heard in great detail about Archewell team visits to the couple's ­Montecito mansion, where Meghan gave everyone ­baskets of flowers, fruit and eggs to take home. So darling of her! She also passed on her ­children's hand-me downs. Is there no end to her generosity?

One employee even told Us Weekly that despite Meghan's reputation as a mini tyrant, they had 'never' heard her yell. Instead, the Duchess gave her staff 'clear direction and is ­solution-oriented' – which makes her sound like a rather lovely and amenable bottle of glue.

And when it came to hiring staff, another raving Archewell acolyte insisted that the Duke and ­Duchess of Sussex always 'picked the best of the best from every field and watered the seeds for them to flourish'.

But what are Harry and Meghan growing for posterity out there in California – an Archewell empire or a damp squib? Seeds, ­solutions, eggs . . . what the hell is going on?

Of course, these accusations are nothing new to royal-watchers in the UK. The Duchess of Sussex has long been dogged by reports she promotes a toxic workplace environment, along with repeated accusations of what her lawyers insist to this day we must call ­'difficult' behaviour. In 2021, reports that the former actress had allegedly bullied and reduced staff members to tears at Kensington Palace were dismissed by the Sussexes as a smear. Yet it is no secret that the couple have lost 18 employees to date in their short time as a ­company entity in both the UK and the US.

One new American-based source blames 'unbearable' and ­'condescending' Meghan for the alarming 'churn and burn' rate. These rumours just won't go away – but the big difference this time is that it is US news outlets that are making the claims.

Maer Roshan, co-editor-in-chief of The Hollywood Reporter, said he stands by the story after a backlash that included one ­Sussex source saying the claims were 'fabricated'.

Former and current employees of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex rushed into print this week to big up their bosses.

Roshan told Access Hollywood: 'Our reporter talked to a very high-up source who works for the couple and said: 'Everyone is ­terrified of Meghan.'

'Duchess Difficult is a nickname that has trailed Meghan Markle for quite a few years. What is new is that this notion, since coming to America, that a lot of these rumours were manufactured by the Palace – the reporting that we did suggests that probably isn't true and there is still this ­undercurrent of fear.'

Many of you might remember Prince Harry, in his high, tight, aggrieved voice, telling the world in his various documentaries and interviews that: 'There is a ­hierarchy of the [Royal] Family. You know there is leaking, but there is also ­planting of stories.'

Even The Hollywood Reporter, a neutral observer, now raises an eyebrow at this. This is devastating for the couple whose reputation has survived so far by ­blaming their difficulties on the Royal Family and the British Press, instead of examining their own alleged bad behaviour.

Just a few issues ago in Us Weekly, the Duchess of Sussex was smoothing down the pleats on her kilt of no-guilt and telling everyone that she was opening 'a chapter of joy' in her life and that everything was hunky in her dory.

But now – yet again – the ­Sussexes are back at square one; expending time, energy, favours and friends in defending themselves against the indefensible.

We have been here before, we are back here again; swimming against this avalanche of bad press, slaloming though the ­snowdrifts of snark.

It makes me think, was this westward flight by the Sussexes – this bridge-burning journey into what they presumed would be a better, kinder world, patrolled by powerful friends such as Oprah and billionaire Tyler Perry – ­simply fuelled by a lust for praise and admiration that they felt was their due?

Yet no longer can Meghan and Harry present themselves to the world as a couple under siege, a pair of self-righteous smirkers who felt themselves to be the ­victims of racism and bullying.

The Hollywood Reporter has described them as 'poor decision-makers' who 'change their minds frequently', and added that Harry was a 'very charming ­person' but 'very much an ­enabler'. The poor fool.

Duchess Difficult and the ­Enabling Prince? It sounds like a ­terrible Harry Potter novel, only now there is no magic spell to make this fresh stink vanish into the Californian air.

[auschizm]

Just wanted to share a reflection on a nice little area of autism+schizo-overlap

I’m autistic and my best friend is auschitzic and I’ve found that I understand so called “word salad” better than others. (Not just in my friend but also in people I met in the soup kitchen and others who have it)

My pet theory is that perhaps with autism, there are less perceived notions about what someone should say.

I feel others get distracted by the projection that the person “isn’t making sense” rather than just listen.

I think it’s a nice moment of solidarity. We have so much more in common than apart. Especially in the struggles with communication. In many ways we have very similar needs too

Sensory needs, needs for predictability, need for routines, need for very clear instructions, cognitive support.

I see it as auschizm mirrors my experience a LOT and at the same time that the overlap adds an extra layer of marginalization which makes it so that when fighting for freedom, against the coercion and other flaws in healthcare, I see it as us who are autistic or otherwise disabled needing to listen to auschizic and schizospectrum people first.

Oftentimes auschizic people experience everything I do (miscommunication with doctors, coercion while outpatient, financial punishments for cognitive deficits, dehumanization, etc) but a hundred fold.

Similar; same type of things. But at the same time completely different; we who are autistic and only experience minor symptoms of other things from time to time, we have to understand that there are levels of incarceration and violence that we dont have to deal with due to not being schizospec

The way I see it this gives us a moral obligation. To fight in our day to day lives for the dignity of our schizospectrum siblings.

We have to speak up when people stereotype and fearmonger. We have to be vocal in our critiques against psychiatry. We have to fight to make the world accessible for all of us.

Rather than mask because we understood that what was said was meant as a joke, if it was cruel or “unreality” we should still demand it be explained.

Be outspoken about all of the cultural discrimination and misconceptions with our friends who might be even further removed from psychiatry than we are.

It’s like a set of circles where my auschizic friend can tell me about the experiences they heard from others even more marginalized who were in the ward. They are in the middle of the circle. Then is my friend who is mostly outpatient. Who can talk to me. Next circle is people who are neurodivergent but “functioning”; maybe they have jobs and stuff. So I can talk to them. Then those people can talk to people at their jobs etc who are even further removed

We can each do our work in fighting to create spaces. When we are in social spaces, that in and out of itself, is a privilege. We can fight to try to fit others in these social spaces

Sorry about the very long and rambly ask. There are many thoughts on this subject that I have yet to articulate

I guess what I wanted to say was thank you for making this blog. Thank you for creating this space.

It is so important that this gets talked about

Im extremely grateful to get the opportunity to read about even more auschizic experiences and learn more about the perspective

Thank you so much

Solidarity

🤝🤝🤝

This ask is making my morning. I really appreciate your compassion and solidarity! Although I gotta note that I don't believe in simple hierarchies of oppression and discrimination. Like I wouldn't say that a low support needs auschiztic person who is stable and functional enough to live alone and work is inherently more oppressed than a nonverbal high support needs autistic person who needs extensive support and supervision simply because the person in the first scenario has two diagnoses instead of one.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Heyo! Love your work btw *chef kiss* I'm obsessed with your poly turtles stuff. Could you maybe do some Christmas poly headcannons? Seasonal Activities they do with their s/o, possible gifts they receive, fav cookies/treats, fav Xmas music. Idk just some festive stuff? If you're busy that's cool 😎 your poly turt stuff has me needing more haha. Thanks!

Ok, I'm pretty sure I got this before Christmas and it's now May. I'm so sorry. I won't go into all the reasons I haven't really been writing because it's a lot but I want to get back into it so here goes with this very unseasonal post lmao

and thank you everyone for you patience as I get back into the swong of writing for my blog

Raph

This big hunk of red and green first

He's very seasonal if you think about it

He's also super (secretly) into the holidays

catch him doing his rendition of rockin' around the Christmas tree very loudly when he's off his tits on eggnog

((side note I think he would hate eggnog but would drink it solely because it's festive))

He's secretly super sentimental and he knows you love this time of year so he really puts his back into it

I'm talking it's the 1st of December and he wakes you up in a full Santa outfit and white beard (that he knitted himself) yelling "Ho Ho Ho!" and asking if you've been naughty or nice

it's like 6am so you, naturally, tell him to piss off

to which he makes a big show of trying to shove you into his Santa sack because "Someone needs a trip to the North Pole to learn the Christmas spirit"

He's also pretty good with crafts

obvs you guys can't go outside and be seen so he creates a whole winter wonderland in the lair (without telling the others, Mikey was the only one who appreciated it tbh)

also he's a great cook so you spend evening after evening baking sugar cookies and decorating them, sipping hot chocolate with a candy cane in it and whipped cream on top, making warming winter soups.

In terms of gifts, he gets you anything and everything he even thinks you might like

real big spender this one

handmade too items like a scarf he knitted for you because your old one was a bit worn, handmade card, he even did a little snow globe that he made with figures of you and him inside of it

he'll say "I know it's lame" or "It's not the best but I tried" but it means the world to you

Leo

Big boy blue up next

I see him loving a very traditional, old fashioned, classic Xmas.

His big thing is that he loves to decorate the tree with you

but you would always bicker about how it should look

"No, I think a gold and red theme would look better!"

"But, Leo, we have all of these cute glass candy canes I wanna hang!"

"But I have a vision!!"

so this year he decides to buy like 6 trees (and by buy I mean forage, steal or cut down)

so you can both have your own trees and decorate them however you want

this, obviously, becomes a Christmas competition

your very unwilling judges are Leo's brothers and even Splinter

they have never looked more uncomfortable than when you and Leo are very passionately stating your case for why your tree is better than the other's and it ends in you both throwing baubles at each other

about half an hour and a lot of tinsel lying everywhere later you decide that maybe you're both a little too competitive

but Leo reassures that "That's why I love you"

He's so big on quality time with you

lot's of sitting by a crackling fire, sipping coco and letting soft Christmas songs play

he's made a playlist of v gentle ones like Eartha Kitt's Santa baby, Conventry carol and god rest ye merry gentlemen.

it's all about the mood w/ Leo

as far as gifts, it's has to be something personal and sweet

a pressed flower in resin from the first day you both met, a silver heart shaped locket with a pic of you both in it, some sort of talisman that's supposed to keep you safe in ninja superstition

Mikey

Time for chaotic good to come to play

Mikey just manages to capture that almost childlike enthusiasm and wonder for the season

He has a funny habit of wrapping your gifts to look like something else

last year you were certain he'd gotten you a rocking horse but it turned out to be a new phone and headphones

"How long did it take you to wrap it like that?"

"Don't ask questions you don't wanna know.....3 hours to make the horse part look right"

normally he gets you silly but sweet gifts

lots of sticking filler things

oh and he gets you an actual stocking too, but like a comically oversized one to fit all the gifts

stuff he's made too

one year he made you 50 hand cut paper snowflakes with 50 reasons he loves you written and drawn on them

also stuff you guys can do together

video games he knows you'll find fun, stupid interactive games that you can play, that kinda stuff

he does a special Xmas scavenger hunt for you each year that the others pretend is stupid but it keeps getting more elaborate as time goes on and even they are started to get invested in the ending

there's a theme and everything ranging from polar express to murder at the Christmas party to Santa's grotto....

he also never fails to dress up as Mrs Clause every year (because Raph insists on being Santa and at first Mikey just wanted everyone to laugh, but now it's kinda a tradition)

Donnie

oh my sweet gadget boy

he's super big into cocktails, the sweeter the better

and you always get to name them together but you both have a warped sense of humour so the names are getting out of hand

you pick a fave each year as well

last year was "The abominable snowman's frozen left nut" and the year before was "Mrs Clause putting glass shavings in Santa's food because he came back with the clap"

I told you they were bizarre....

his gifts are always thoughtful and so romantic

I HC Donnie as being a super romantic guy

whether it be a painting he made of the constellations and planets in correct placement on the night the two of you first kissed

or a wreath of dried flowers and plants to hang on the door that came from the field behind your childhood house

but this year it's a scrapbook filled to the brim with every detail of the two of you, all dated and with a little annotation telling a story as to why it's in there. photos, cards, handwritten letters, magazine cut outs, diary entries.... it's all in there and it's enough to make you cry.

He also sneaks you out on Christmas eve every year without the others knowing (they'd flip if they came to know that he was stealing you away at that time)

but he takes you up to the rooftops to sit on blankets and drink hot chocolate (spiked with a little rum, it's Donnie after all...) and look at the lights and snowflakes and people bustling home to their families and you sit and feel at peace and laugh as you make up backstories to each individual you see scurrying home

you lean against his shoulder and every year that he does this it feels more magical than the last

[elisysd]

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I belong with you, you belong with me You're my sweetheart

Weeks went by and Lyanna could see Charles making fast progress. It wasn't long before he was fully able to move again, and even the doctors were impressed by his recovery. Towards the end of November, as she was cutting up a butternut squash to make soup, a half-smiling Charles burst into the kitchen, coming back from his last weekly medical appointment.

“Lyanna… baby, guess what?”

“I don’t know but it must be good since you are smiling like that.”

He took the keys to his Pista out of his pocket and waved them in front of his girlfriend.

“The doctor told me that I could drive again!”

In surprise, Lyanna almost cut herself. She put the knife to the side and looked up at Charles with wide, joy-filled eyes.

“That’s amazing news, Charles! I’m so happy for you!” she said as she almost jumped on him.

“Careful, I still have to take things easy.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that I know how much you missed driving. Did he tell you anything about racing in F1?”

“He said that it’s something that I must see with our medical team at Ferrari but to him, it should not be a problem. I’m going to finally be able to work on my simulator. It was collecting dust; I can’t wait to use it again. So this was the big news. On the way home I thought about something and I would like to have your honest opinion on it.”

“Shoot.”

“I was thinking that since I missed driving, I don’t have to be to the factory because technically winter break is about to beginning, you’ve been playing nurse with me for the past three weeks and you haven’t seen your family in a while… I was wondering if you wanted to visit them? It would be a nice and long road trip. Perfect for me to get back to driving in a really relaxing way.”

“Charles Leclerc, are you asking to meet my family?”

Charles shrugged and tried to pretend that it was just an idle idea and not something he'd been thinking about for days. He really wanted to meet Lyanna's family. It was one more step in their relationship but he was ready and he hoped Lyanna was too.

The young woman thought she detected a flicker of doubt in her boyfriend's eyes. She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck before sealing her lips with his. Charles grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto the counter. He pulled away from her and rested his forehead against hers, playing with the knots of the apron the actress was wearing.

“I have to call my mom to see when she would like us to come.”

“So it’s a yes?”

She nodded as she put her hand against Charles's cheek and kissed him again. Now she had to find a way to tell her mother that she was coming to visit and that Charles would be with her.

A few days later, the couple were ready for the trip. Charles was trying to wedge their bags as best he could into the trunk of his Pista, while Lyanna was on the phone to her mother.

“I’m telling you mom, if it’s too much for you, Charles and I can always go to the hotel.”

“No, darling, it’s fine. I just want the house to be clean and perfect. I still have to go grocery shopping. Is he allergic to anything? Does he have to follow a special diet?”

Lyanna rolled her eyes. She knew that coming with Charles would be stressful for her mom. She always had a hard time mingling with people that had a superior lifestyle to her own, being ashamed of being a single mother from the working class. Her mom was not a jealous person, she had just developed a strong inferiority complex. So meeting Charles who was a millionaire was a tough experience for her mom. She was scared he would judge her, something that Lyanna found really stupid. But she was her mom and she could not change her.

“All good. We are ready to go, love!” exclaimed Charles as he closed the trunk.

“I have to go mom, see you tonight.”

“Be careful on the road, okay. Remind Charles that the motorway is not a F1 track.”

“Don’t worry mom, I’m safe with him. The only thing you should be scared of is his capacity to not park right.”

Lyanna had deliberately said the words a little louder as Charles walked past her. He shook his head and stuck his tongue out at Lyanna, who responded by doing the same. She finally hung up before getting into the car and fastening her seatbelt. She looked at Charles, who looked like a child on Christmas Eve. He was happy to be behind the wheel at last. A painkiller for Charles before setting off, and they were on their way. To get to Lyanna's family, they had to travel for almost seven hours. Lyanna had therefore prepared a long playlist of her and Charles's favourite music, as well as snacks, although they had planned to stop off at a restaurant to eat along the way.

The journey was punctuated by laughter and singing off keys to their favourite songs. Even if the grey and cold November weather was not ideal for driving, the young couple managed to make the trip a moment of complicity. They ended up stopping several hours later at a restaurant on the border between Switzerland and France. From what Lyanna could see, it looked like a farmhouse inn. She glanced at Charles, trying to find out implicitly whether he was tempted by the restaurant or would prefer to stop elsewhere.

Charles parked the Pista and they headed for the entrance. It was a warm, friendly place with panelled walls et checkered patterns on the chairs. The waitress took them to a small table with a magnificent view of a lake. It must have been a beautiful place in midsummer, with the sun shining, Lyanna thought to herself. They were served quickly, the restaurant having very few customers, and out of the corner of her eye Lyanna noticed a little blonde girl who couldn't have been more than four years old, watching Charles attentively with big blue eyes.

“I think you have a fan…” whispered Lyanna to Charles.

He questioned her, and Lyanna beckoned him to look to her right. The little girl saw that Charles had noticed her and hid in the arms of her father, who was too busy chatting to what Lyanna assumed was his wife to notice his daughter's little antics.

Charles smiled broadly and waved at the child, who tugged at his father's sleeve to get his attention. He leaned over to his daughter and whispered a few words in her ear. He then looked away to concentrate on Charles. Then he gave the child a gentle push in the direction of the pilot. The little girl approached shyly, twisting her fine hair around her fingers.

“Hello, little one.” Said Charles as he stood up and immediately crouched to the kid’s height.

“Hello, mister. I like your hair. They are pretty.”

“Thank you?” chuckled Charles not expecting it. “And I like your dress. What is your name, beautiful?”

“Lizzy. And you?”

“I’m Charles, and this is Lya.”

Lyanna waved at the little girl.

“Is she your wife?” asked Lizzy.

Charles was taken aback by the question and stuttered, at a loss for an answer. As for Lyanna, she could feel the blood rushing to her face and burning her cheeks.

“Uh, well… no. She is just my girlfriend. But maybe one day, she will be my wife. I don’t know.”

“She is pretty.” Complimented Lizzy while looking at Lyanna.

“That, she is. And what are you doing here, Lizzy?”

“I’m bored. My daddy and my mummy are ignoring me. I’m feeling lonely. Do you want to play with me? I have a colouring book but I can't colour without crossing the lines.”

Charles looked at Lyanna to see if she minded. She indicated that it was okay with her and Charles nodded in Lizzy's direction as she hurried off to get her pencils and colouring book.

“I think someone has a little crush.” Teased Lyanna as Charles shrugged.

Lizzy came back quickly and put her things on the table, then came and sat on Charles's lap. Lyanna watched them in silence as Charles gave Lizzy instructions and advice as best he could, making her laugh as he bounced her on his knee.

Deeply moved by the scene, Lyanna discreetly took out her phone and snapped a few photos, which she sent to Pascale. The young woman began to think that Charles really was very good with children and would probably make a good father one day. The thought gave her a warm feeling in her lower belly.

“I’m sorry about Elisabeth. She has the habit to annoy people.” Lizzie’s father came to them with his wife behind him.

“She did not annoy us at all!” defended Charles “You have a really sweet daughter.”

“Oh thank you. And you guys make a beautiful couple.” Added the mother.

They said a quick goodbye and Lizzie put her little arms around Charles to give him a hug before kissing Lyanna's cheek and following her parents.

“Well, that was cute.” Lyanna said as they were leaving soon after the restaurant and as they set off again.

“Definitely. I know it’s early in the relationship to have this kind of discussion but, do you want kids? Because I want some…” asked her Charles which took Lyanna by surprise. She had never really thought about it.

“Um, I don’t know… I mean. I love kids but do I want some? I…guess? At some point? Not tomorrow that’s for sure but in a few years, maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m not saying that I want to be a dad tomorrow. I would like to win a championship before.”

“How many would you like?” asked Lyanna. She liked to see his face lighting up when he talked about having a family.

“Three! It’s the perfect number. Ideally, two boys and a girl. That would be the ultimate goal.”

“I think two for me is enough… I don’t know how I could manage three. And you do know that you can’t chose the gender, right?”

“I know, it’s just… in a perfect world, I have a world champion title with Ferrari, three amazing kids, an amazing wife and a house with a big garden in the heights of Monaco. What does your perfect world look like?”

Lyanna looked out of the window; she had never given it much serious thought. She lived from day to day without trying to project herself. She closed her eyes for a moment and let her mind wander.

“A house, not too big and not too small. A cozy atmosphere. I would love a big fireplace for when it’s cold during winter. And… you. I’m going to sound cheesy as fuck, but honestly my definition of perfect world is wherever you are.

Charles looked at her with a smile and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. He then intertwined his fingers with hers and spent the rest of the journey like this.

It was late when they arrived outside Lyanna's mother's house. The neighbourhood was quiet and Charles was able to park his Pista out of sight. He was the first to get out of the car and hurried to open Lyanna's door as she tried to delay seeing her mother as long as possible. She loved her mother more than anything and wanted the visit to go as smoothly as possible. She didn't know what she would do if her mother didn't like Charles.

Just then, a figure emerged from the house and came towards them. The first thing Charles noticed was how Lyanna was the spitting image of his mother. The second was the way she looked at him as she took her daughter in her arms. With one look, she'd made it clear that she had her eye on him and that he didn't have her wrapped around his little finger.

Well, Charles thought, it was time for him to bring his A game.

=====================

author's note: A pure fluffy chapter to celebrate Charles P2 woop woop! As usual I can't wait to read your thoughts about the chapter and theories about what's going to happen between Charles and Lya's mother 👀

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[cherrytoru]

sick day or sometimes it’s a good thing to have a boyfriend who also a doctor

warnings: third person, she/her pronouns, sorta sounds like angst but it’s not really, just law being law, being sick, general medical care but also not really, unedited

it started with a cough. not to bad but it was kind of annoying. the side eyes from penguin and shachi were reminder enough that no one on the polar tang got sick.

everyone tried to ignore the occasional cough, knowing that drawing attention would make it worse. but not long after sneezes also filled the empty spaces between words. bepo did his best to place blame else where, ‘oh i must have missed a spot while dusting’ and ‘did the water go down wrong’ were amongst the list of excuses he used.

eventually the fever came about. and law finally started to take notice. “you’re burning up.”

“pfft thanks for telling me i had no idea.”

“you need to rest.”

“i’ll be fine, law.” y/n resisted pushing herself off the cot.

“no, that’s an order.” law retorted pushing her back down gently.

“i’m not staying here all day law! there’s stuff i need to do!”

“i said no. that’s the end of it.” and with that law walked out of the med bay and into his office. passing bepo, the navigator gave him a telling look. “she needs rest.”

“she needs a boyfriend, not a doctor or captain.” law sighed before continuing his pursuit to his office.

a few hours had passed before law finally left the room. stepping into the kitchen he found ikkaku glaring at him. she was holding a cup of tea and a bowl of soup. “you should make yourself useful.” she said before shoving them into his hands. he more than know what she meant by that.

abandoning his own plans for food he made his way to the med bay. but before he reached the door he found himself changing direction. heavy footsteps ringing out as he made his way to his room. opening the door, he placed down the soup and tea before moving back out of the room.

he started down the hall again, stopping in front of the labeled door. he swiftly knocked twice before reaching for the handle. he found her asleep on the bed, undisturbed by his entrance. making his way over to her, he lifted her from the cot before carrying her to their shared room.

he placed her down on the bed before removing his shoes and laying down next to her, holding her close. she moved closer to his chest, a small smile on her face. law sighed before closing his own eyes.

as it turns out law was right. the next morning, she felt great. she just needed rest. but the captain was look a little worse for ware when he woke up with a fever of his own.

[collawashbear]

My long ramble about how Ace is a pwNPD. hehe

Ace exhibits many narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) traits so my headcanon is that he DOES have NPD, most likely undiagnosed. Let me explain...

Firstly. He grew up with a LOT of praise and was always the top of the class. People who develop NPD were either given NO praise or TOO much of it at a young age, the latter which is what Håvard falls into. So, we got this young man who is set up to succeed and be the best. A trait of pwNPD is that there is always a need to want to be the best at everything, and when that does not occur in can result in feelings of anger and sometimes depression. Of course, Håvard's bio/psychological reports never say anything about him failing or make some sort of reference to it, but it can be assumed from everything that he definitely does enjoy the spotlight, and most likely does not enjoy it when others do. PwNPD (people/person with NPD) can easily get upset when attention is not on them!

As one can see here, Ace is *very* much a man who likes getting the credit and recognition. (Same)

I also believe this implies that Håvard can and will set aside people if it means that he succeeds. This is something that pwNPD may exhibit: using others. Whether or not they may be aware of it, it is something that they do not see as wrong, mostly in part because it is just the way they think as a result of the hierarchy they most likely have developed, which places them at the top. Which goes on to my next point, and it is that he is so obviously self-centered.

Everyone knows that Ace is a very vain character---his operator screen animation is quite literally him taking a picture of himself and his portrait is him telling you to call him. Clearly, this man thinks he's THE guy.

PwNPD often have self-inflated egos, and more often than not believe that they are better than others, whether that may be in looks or minds. Ace absolutely fits into this! He is very much a character who believes that he is the best and that he deserves things simply because of his "upper" status. We see this in the animation when he's talking to Osa and he says:

"I helped build this place. Don't you think I should be in the know?"

To which Osa replies by saying "I think you should be focused on the invitational and not flirting with our senior physicist."

I know you're thinking, "Okay well like that just seems like a normal dialogue to me." And it would absolutely be if Ace wasn't such an egocentric character! With all we've learned, this quote to me shows his privileged sense of self, which is literally just. It's written in the sky at this point.

I've seen people throw around the word narcissist to describe Ace, and to be honest, that's a whole different thing I want to elaborate on later in this post. I certainly do have my two cents on that word, but for now, I will say: Is he a narcissistic person, as in he is very self-centered and arrogant? Sure...

My next point is Ace's image. What I mean by this is the way he presents himself in society and to others. PwNPD will want to keep a good image of themselves! They want people to think that they are awesome and successful charmers who are confident, and someone to be admired. Contrary to what most people think, many pwNPD actually do have low self-esteem. The way of coping with this is to believe that you are literally one of the best people to walk this earth and everyone else is below you/will never be like you and to make sure others view and constantly tell you are what you think you are. (Forgive my 'you' soup).

In Ace's bio, it is made very clear that he likes to portray himself as a hero. A whole lot. Håvard will jump to the front lines to keep up the "golden boy" image (Harry's words, not mine xD).

I think his psychology report also does a good job of explaining this better than I can. So, just read it, and it'll say everything.

(Literally, look at my boy creating his image!)

It is also mentioned that he desires to control the way he is seen!

A moment where we see this into play is in the animation (the same one mentioned previously) where he is flirting with the senior physicist, Ace says:

"No, no, I don't like to use the word 'hero'. But I did save the boss' life, you know."

Whether or not this is an exaggeration (pwNPD may exaggerate their achievements), Ace is very much presenting himself as a "hero". Even if he's trying to be a little bit humble about it. Good job you're doing just well Ace

My last point is his relationships with people. Now, from what I know lore-wise, there isn't much to Håvard's relationship with people. Besides from the Crystal Guard animation, we don't really have much lines of interaction for Ace </3 But what I have found is intriguing to me!

So first off, I assume that Ace hasn't had close relationships in the past. This is because Kali (who is talking here), says she had never seen him do something like this before. I can only assume that Ace isn't one for having super close friendships, or if not, hasn't really had people he considers close friends.

So, Ace may have difficulty keeping relationships. This is one of the major symptoms of NPD; traits may prevent someone from having healthy relationships.

So even if he does have friendships, Håvard may not be the best at maintaining a good relationship, and it may be rocky as a result of his self-centeredness, which is so perfectly exemplified in this quote:

Ace is quite literally telling Wamai "Come hang out with me and I'll even let you talk abt your own life for like maybe a minute!"

I wouldn't be surprised if Ace is like one of those people who just loves to talk about themselves so much. And given his personality, it is very obvious he takes any opportunity to brag about himself! It's almost like...he takes no interest in others...

When Ubisoft does finally decide to put the attention to some other operators, and I get more Ace stuff I will for sure be analyzing them...but for now I need to treasure whatever it is I have.

Finally, I want to put this quote from none other than Kali:

Ace quite practically lives off of praise and attention. It is the one thing that makes him do his work with the efficiency and skill he has. Having a high sense of self is absolutely important for him, so he seeks praise and attention from practically anyone he can.

So now that I've rambled on and on about Ace having NPD, let's get down to the real business and clear some things up.

First off, pwNPD are not inherently evil because of their disorder! Yes, some pwNPD do bad things. They can be manipulative and apathetic. But that doesn’t mean every pwNPD is inherently a horrible human. Most pwNPD do not take it to hurt others and will mask their behaviors to keep up the image that I have talked about.

This is the case with Ace here, I believe. He will most likely not have interest about other people but will feign interest to keep up his persona. As well, he might not be the most empathetic person, but he for sure doesn't make that clear to others! But he isn't a horrible person for these things. It is just the way he thinks.

I also wanted to connect this with Ace's altruism. I do not think he has empathy for the people he rescues, but this does not mean he hates them or wants them to die. Simply put, he cannot connect to their emotions or understand their situation. So then why does he help others?

Because it makes him feel good! Being seen and regarded as a lifesaver is obviously something he wants, so he continues in that line of work. As stated before, ego is his motivator. So yes, he does good things and helps others, but it is in his own interest. It may sound inherently selfish, but in the end, people are being saved, and it's better than not doing anything at all.

There is not much research done on NPD because unfortunately many of the people who have it never get professional help, leading to stereotypes and wild assumptions about people with NPD. It is a very demonized disorder, and it is sad to see that people think pwNPD are heartless monsters.

To add the final cherry on this essay sundae, the word narcissist. It is often the word used to describe someone who is self-centered and arrogant who may have NPD. It doesn't leave a very good taste in my mouth as people use it very loosely to describe their toxic exes or people they don't like. As well, the word generally has a bad connotation. So, would I use the word to describe Ace? Not really. I wouldn't throw it around to describe bad people. This only makes pwNPD seem less human if you're relating the word to every bad person on planet Earth.

That's about it! If you're down here, hello, thanks for reading all of this! Very long post about some Norwegian guy but I am intensely entranced by him. You don't necessarily have to agree with me, this is a headcanon after all! I am open about other opinions and characterizations of him.

Conclusion, Ace has NPD. Yeah 👍

[matrixxsystem]

Terrapin Soup Part 12

Usagi met back up with Leo after his talk with Raph, and after Donnie managed to get the lights back on. They sat in Leos room for a bit both sharing what they'd talked about.  "And he took it really well I think, I mean he didn't kick me out so.."

"D-Did you tell him about.. Me?"

"No no, I wouldn't do that without your permission. I just told him about me and Hyo, I left you out of it for the most part. But I was very honest still." Leo laid back on the bed letting out a relieved sigh, "I still don't know how I'm gonna tell them.. If I ever do..." Usagi chuckled softly and laid beside Leo, "Well if you ever do I'll be with you for support. And if they can accept me, I'm sure it'll be easier to accept someone they're much closer to. I didn't talk about the dinner thing yet but I think I'll let them all sit with this information for a bit before I try to do anything like that for them. We can't rush these things after all. What about the pins, did Donatello agree?"

"If I can get the supplies, but that's the tricky part cause.. Apparently to make enough for all of us is gonna be dangerous? But if we had them Donnie could go to school- A real school with smart people like him, Mikey could draw the city *during* the day.. He could go sit outside with real people and make friends! Raph could even go topside, maybe find a gym or somewhere to go train at- Hell even dad could go do things.. It's worth the risk. I know it is..." It looked like Leo was about to say something else but his phone started buzzing, he pulled it from his waist pouch and saw Donnie had sent the list of everything he'd need to get started. Yes! "Donnie's in! I might be a bit busy till we get these made but.." Usagi nodded, resting his head against Leo's shoulder, "I understand, once its complete we should go on another date topside, there's so many other things I want to show you.. But for now we should rest here for a bit, I want to spend all the time I can with you before you get too busy."

Leo smiled a little, taking Usagi's hand in his rubbing the back of it with his thumb, how in the fuck did this man get so soft..? "Agreed, and- Oh! I just remembered someone else who's eaten yokai- That bad guy Meat Sweats! He's like a famous chef and Mikey loves who he used to be- He followed him into the forest once to get one of his secret recipes and is like, obsessed with that guys career." Usagi made a confused expression for a moment wondering why he'd bring it up so suddenly, but then it clicked, that maybe it wouldn't be that difficult to get the other brothers on board with trying new things. If Mikey already idolized someone who had a history of questionable meals, who knows what he'd be willing to try..? "I see. Ill have to look into this person when I get home, maybe if I can find some information Michelangelo doesn't know we could have a conversation about it later. That's a good idea Leo"

  ~Time Skip cause I'm really unoriginal~

Over the next few days everyone chipped in to acquire that parts Donnie needed, The last part was the main power source. Out in a heavily guarded building out in the woods on the outskirts of a city a little ways from where they were, Leo had his portals so naturally he was the one to go. He was so close to having everything.. 

"Hey, Leo." Donnie called as he came out from his lab, a stack of empty coffee cups in his arms, "You sure you don't want backup? I mean Mikey could-"

"Chill Dee, solo is better for stealth. I'll be in and out, I'm not gonna have signal out there so If I need anything Ill just hit that emergency button on out communicators. I've got this."

"I know I just.. Don't love the idea of you going off alone, to some far off place, where we don't really know what's gonna be there waiting in defense.. Oh, and Hannibal texted asking when you'd be free again." Leo rolled his eyes, Donnie had been calling Usagi various nicknames since he found out about the eating yokai thing, "Not funny Dee. Just tell him I'll go visit him when I get back tomorrow. My phones been.. Well you saw how Raph's a.. H-How Raph fell on my phone.." Donnie rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yeah yeah, just go so you can get back." Leo gave a reassuring pat to Donnie's shell before he swung his odachi opening up a portal. "Awww you looove meeee~" He said with a shit eating grin as he stepped through, fast enough he couldn't hear Donnie's retort. He let out a little laugh as the portal closed leaving him in a wooded area, the sun was on it's way down so he'd have to wait a bit before heading forward. "Let's see.. Its just a small government building in the middle of the woods with maybe twenty people max, including guards. I mean the amount of like, smart people there is only like five or ten probably.. I'd assume you need like, two guards for the front door, a body guard for each science person... And there's one inside guarding the stuff. So we just wait till the shift change at night.. All the science dorks go home and cut the number in half.. Hopefully... Then I can get home to my cute boyfriend and we can cook together again~" His stomach rumbled at the mention of Usagi's cooking, he really should have eaten before leaving- 

He started making his way towards the building in the distance, there was a small clearing where it was built to I guess make it easier not to get infuriated, not like that was going to stop Leo. He climbed to one of taller trees to keep watch of the building as the sun set, waiting maybe an hour before he saw the lights of a car starting up from behind the building. It was about time! Once all the cars were gone or so it seemed he opened a small portal onto the roof of the building, laying low and listening for the sound of anyone outside.

There was nothing, this was going surprisingly well.. He traced along the panels on the roof with his sword, tapping a few that looked older till he found a weak spot where it caved slightly under the weight. He pried the asphalt panel from its place revealing a sizable hole, he could work with this. "Guess you can't hire a contractor for secret outposts huh.." He muttered as he knelt down peeking his head into the hole first to make sure it was clear. Once there were no signs of lights or life he cut more around the edges to avoid getting scraped and shimmied into the darkness. He touched down in a dark room, using the flashlight function on his watch to get a good look, there were no lights or cameras in the room so he figured it must be a storage room of some kind, or a bathroom? Looking around there were lots of boxes, most covered in dust and a bucket to the left half full of water, yeah, this was just a storage room.. At least they had the sense to try and keep the contents dry with the bad roof- "Now is not the time to compliment them Leo, c'mon-" He whispered to himself as he continued looking around, carefully reading each box's label without moving them too much to avoid making noise or getting dust on himself. "Okay.. Wires, wires, wet specimens.. Dry specimens? No.. It probably wouldn't be in this mess.. Donnie said the power source would be in it's own room-" He set one of his swords down behind a few bigger boxes so he could get back here for a quick escape if he needed it before finding the door. For a moment he stood there, listening again to make sure the coast was clear then opening the door slowly, using the reflection of his odachi to look down the halls, nothing.. There didn't seem to be cameras either, which was really odd.. But it didn't matter as long as he was able to get what he wanted and get out. "What would Usagi do..?" He asked himself, smirking at the thoughts that came to his mind. He's just really gay alright- 

Leo aimed his sword out and threw it into the light overhead, killing the dim lights in the hallway before stepping out, he reached up grabbing the sword and doing the same to all the lights down his path, this would make it so no one would see him, or they'd have a hard time at least. He chuckled a little at the thought of a bunch of nerds scrambling in the dark as he strode in, and out, with ease. Till of course all the surrounding lights went out, and a ominous red glow filled the halls. Either that was the back up power, or he was proper fucked- "Haha... This is fine.." He walked a little faster dipping his head into each room he passed making sure there was nothing he missed, no one seemed to be around so he was really hoping that he was alone here. There was no sound or people, no voices, or shoes against the tiles, no clinking of keys or flicking of switches. It felt like he was in a horror movie, the cold hall stained red from the lights along the walls. This was fine.. Suddenly he saw a faint glow from a room as he turned down another hallway. That had to be it right? He eyed the door, it was shut and sealed tight, "Who in the world needs three card readers on a single door? You guys are doin' too much-" He said as he shook his head, slicing the air between him and the doorway, lighting the hallway an awkward tertiary mix of red and blue. He stepped through glancing around the room. He sighed a little and stepped up to the island table in the center of the room, on it was a cylinder probably the size of a soda can on its own small pedestal, it was maybe a little smaller then a soda can, he wasn't really able to tell with just the small light from his communicator. The pulsing glow from the device didn't ease him any. "Whelp- This is probably it, I'll just grab this and skedaddle like so~" 

Except when he reached for the device he heard a loud click from behind him. The lights all shut off for a brief second before starting to blink, the bright red then pitch black made it hard to navigate the room as he tried to leave. He pushed against the door but it no longer budged when confronted with his weight. "Okay- I can just portal back- And get out the way I got in, easy!" He swung his sword as he heard footsteps approaching the room, a distant "What the fuck is that-?" Could be heard from the hallway, he rolls his eyes as he kept waving his sword, "C'mon.. C'mon please-!" Finally a portal wide enough to fit though opened up, he rushed in as soon as the door started to open. He poked his head into the empty store room ready to let out the biggest relived sigh he could muster but froze when he felt something on his leg. He slowly turned his head to see a pair of hands around one leg and some kind of syringe being injected in the other. "Wha- Wait-" Was all he said before a heavy feeling took over, he heard the clang of metal on the floor as he was pulled back through his portal, his hands were empty, he couldn't even feel them at this point. Fuck- Fuck fuck fuck this can't be happening, how could they catch him? What where they going to do to him? He felt his hands trying to hold each other for some sense of comfort, with the last of his strength he pressed the emergency button on his wrist tech, he promised he'd be okay.. He promised...

-_-_-_-

"No faiiir! It's my turn to pick the movie!"

"Mikey no, you picked last time. It's Leos turn, whenever he gets back." There was a loud 'ping' that came from Donnie's wrist first then to Raph and Mikey's right after. They all paused as Donnie checked, ready to hear that Leo was on his way back if not about to head out. But the look of Donnie's smug expression falling into confusion then panic made the others look at their notifications too. It was the panic button, why would he have hit the panic button? There was no other texts or notifications not even a meme- There was a sound from the hallway that made everyone shoot up from their seats to go check, hoping Leo was pulling some awful prank and was about to walk into the room any second.

"Hey- Sorry for intruding Leo said I was allowed to just let myself in so I-" Usagi stopped in the doorway, a bit surprised by the three turtles standing not even a foot from him all with intense looks, "I- Sorry, was I.. Am I interrupting something?" Donnie took a step back, giving Usagi a few feet to come into the room as he spoke, "No- No no its.. We just weren't expecting it to be you-" Mikey pushed past his brothers to throw his arms around Usagi, "Leo's in trouble!!" He cried as Usagi halfheartedly tried to comfort him, he didn't really know what was going on yet, but he was still glad Mikey felt comforted by him. "We don't know that for sure Mikey- We should get to my lab and take a look at the new tracker I put on him to double check." Usagi nodded along till he heard the mention of another tracker, he gently patted Mikey and let him back up before stepping closer to Donnie, "You what? Did you seriously put another tracker on him after what happened last time??"

"What you expect me to just.. Let him go that far without anything?"

"Yes!!" He didn't mean to raise his voice but he could see why Leo was so upset about it now. "Don't you know how important it is to him for you to just trust him? How upset he was last time? How I had to help remove the last one so he wouldn't hurt himself??" Raph winced at the mention, mentally seeing all the self inflicted marks on his little brothers arms..

"Okay wait." He said, putting a hand on Usagi's shoulder, "I know it seems.. Insensitive, but that's just how Dee is. He means we'll, and he's just worried about his brother. That's just how he shows it. We can settle that later though, if he's in trouble that takes priority." Usagi let out a little huff and nodded, "..Okay, okay fine. You're right. Let's find him first." They all nodded and headed to Donnie's lab, gathered around his chair as he first tracked the wrist tech and crossed it with the tracker on Leo. "Okay so they're still in the same area, but the stupid signal is getting messed with.. Not good, it means he's still in the building. Its too far for any of us to walk, and the tank is pretty big.. But the panic button was no accident..."

"Ill go."

"Usagi no offense but I don't think-"

"I wasn't asking for permission. I have a cloaking pin, I know short cuts to get outside the city, I'm trained to do stuff like this. I'll go." Donnie huffed turning back to the screen muttering, "I hate it when he's right" As he pulled out a drawer and tossed another wrist cuff to Usagi. "Its still in beta so don't break it, but you'll probably need this, its a Raph sized escape pod, the interface is fairly simple so once you find him you'll know what to do but it should be wide enough to fit the two of you and fly you back here safely." Usagi looked at it for a moment, wondering how something that was big enough to fit the two of them could come in such a compact design. "Thank you. I'll bring him back, and we can all yell at him afterwards"

"Oh wait- Here take this too." Donnie added giving him another kind of wrist cuff, "I guess if you're going you should have a way to communicate with us and him if need be. And if all goes well I suppose I may let you keep it for future endeavors.." They all nodded and Usagi put his pin on before leaving the sewers, heading through his short cuts through the city, hoping nothing bad would happen.

In all honesty he wasn't worried for Leo, he knew if it came down to it that man could beat every one there and then some. He was more worried of what this kind of stress would do to him, if he'd be able to hold back long enough for Usagi to get there.. He looked to the trackers position and kept going, he wouldn't be there till sunrise.. If they really managed to catch him the place would be on high alert, day or night wouldn't matter when he got there. He shook any negative thoughts from his head, instead trying to think about what a nice reunion it'd be between them, and how happy Leo would most likely be to see his boyfriend come to his rescue. Yeah, that was a much more motivating train of thought to follow..

Part 13 Part 1

TS Master Post

[rphelperblog]

Friends and Family Rp Meme

inspired by some of my new fave rp blogs @jaymaybnk​ @p0gue4life​ @kierras​ @pogueframed​

@sulsurfer

“Want to take a walk with me?”

“Do you need a hug?”

“Dude, I’m taking you out shopping. No buts.”

“This couch is big enough for the both of us.”

“I stole your __ I hope you don’t mind.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“There’s nothing wrong with friends holding hands!”

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“My socks look good on you. I wondered where they went.”

“Come here! Cuddle session!”

“Think I can squeeze in there with you?”

“Why did you put that all the way up there?”

“Can you open this for me?”

“Do you need help opening that?”

“Not gonna lie, your clothes look good on me.”

“You look comfy.”

“You look good today!”

“Can I brush your hair?”

“Can you brush my hair?”

“Can you get that for me?”

“I’m wearing your name tag obviously I’m you.”

“This couch is all mine I will push you off if you try sitting on it.”

“Budge up you’re hogging all the room.”

“I know that look- you’re up to no good.”

“Do you know where __ went?”

“I will roll you up in a blanket if you refuse to go to bed.”

“I’m so tired… ”“I don’t want to be alone.”“My hands are shaking.” “Don’t get up. I’m comfortable like this.”

“Please stay. I’d like some company.”

“Could I get a hug?”

“Would you pet my hair?”

“Will you sing something for me?”

“I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?”

“Can I lay my head in your lap?”

“You can touch my hair but don’t mess it up!”

“Here, lay down in my lap.”

“You know, you’re pretty comfy.”

“Come here, ya big lug/small fry.”

“Just take my hand. It’ll be better, I promise.”

“I’m not letting go.”

“I’ll hold you as long as you need.” “It’s okay to stay, you know.”

“I’m so happy you’re here with me.” “Your hugs are warm. We should do this more often.”

❛ remind me why we’re friends again? ❜

❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜

❛ do you think we’re friends in every universe? ❜

❛ you’re interesting and different and i like that. ❜

❛ i feel like i can tell you anything. “

❛ please don’t ever become a stranger. ❜

❛ i like being alone but i’d rather be alone with you. ❜

❛ you’re important to me, you little shit. ❜❛

 i can always count on you. ❜

❛ here, you can borrow my jacket. ❜

❛ i am this close away from strangling you. ❜

❛ no offense, but you look terrible. ❜

❛ do you think we’ll ever stop being friends? ❜

❛ i found this cool rock that made me think of you. ❜

❛ you can sleep over, it’ll be like when we were kids. ❜

❛ here’s a spare key so you don’t have to keep coming in through the window. ❜

❛ that sounds dangerous. i’m in! ❜

❛ we’re still friends, right? ❜

❛ i don’t have a date, so do you wanna be my plus one? ❜❛ i heard you were feeling sick, so i made you some soup. ❜

❛ i already said i’m paying. you can buy next time, okay? ❜

❛ you’re the best, you know that? ❜

❛ i’m not hitting you, it’s called platonic bdsm. ❜

❛ you’re more family to me than my own family is. ❜

❛ because i like you. because you’re my friend. ❜

❛ i feel like i can be myself around you. ❜

❛ alright, who am i beating up? ❜

❛ you are literally too stupid to insult. ❜

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜

❛ who needs them. we can have fun on our own. ❜

❛ you deserve every good thing that comes your way. ❜

❛ don’t worry, i’ve got your back! ❜

❛ you’re like, the strongest person i know. ❜

❛ friends don’t lie. ❜

❛ don’t make me regret giving you the aux cord. ❜

❛ you can come over any time. it’s not a problem. ❜

❛ i’m glad to have met you. ❜

❛ you remember the day we became friends? ❜

❛ i know, i know. i’m the best. ❜

❛ no one hurts you and gets away with it. ❜

❛ because you love me! duh! ❜

❛ why do you keep me around? ❜

❛ you’re not getting rid of me that easily. ❜

❛ what would you do without me, huh? ❜

❛ thanks. i really needed this. ❜

❛ what are best friends for? ❜

[themimsyborogove]

idk if ur still taking requests/ideas or not, but if so, do you think you could write a little something about Magnus taking in a young warlock and teaching them magic, like how Ragnor did all those years ago with him?

I’m sorry this took so long, anon. I hope you’re still around✨

——

Crickets chirped loudly from their hiding places, and a breeze blew across the crowded alley holding the Kyoto Shadow Market, raining bright fall leaves onto the stalls. Magnus generally preferred to come to Kyoto in spring time, when it was the cherry blossoms shedding their petals like a warm pink blizzard, but fall certainly had its charms as well.

He stopped to examine a stall selling fruit and flowers gathered from the parts of Faerie more easily accessed from gateways in Japan, and harder to find in New York. He was contemplating the flowers, trying to determine which he might need for potions in the near future, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Magnus grabbed the hand before it could reach out and snatch one of the fruits. “I wouldn’t do that,” he murmured, soft enough that only the would-be-thief could hear. “Stolen faerie food isn’t safe to eat.”

“Let go of me, asshole!” the girl he had grabbed said in the kind of stilted English that had likely never been used outside of a classroom full of kids giggling over swear words they had learned to fluster the teacher. She was wearing a school uniform track suit with a huge scarf wound around her neck.

Magnus steered the girl away from the faerie stall before she could draw more attention to herself.

“Is this your first time in a Shadow Market,” he asked, switching to Japanese.

The girl looked relieved and stopped trying to struggle out of his grip. “I didn’t know where to go. I saw lights I had never seen before, and I followed them here.” Her free hand reached up to touch the scarf around her neck, bulkier than the material should have been, and Magnus had an inkling of what the answers to the rest of his questions were going to be.

They had broken out of the thickest part of the crowd, and Magnus spotted a stall selling noodles, the stools around the bar-like table shielded by a half curtain.

The girl watched him warily as he ordered two bowls of noodles and gestured for her to sit down. “I don’t have any money,” she said.

“I know,” Magnus replied. “It’s obvious that you’ve never tried to steal anything before. If you’d had money, you would have used it. Sit down, you must be hungry.”

The girl sat and looked between her bowl of noodles, topped with a thin slice of fried tofu, and the fox-like faerie who had served them to her. “Kitsune udon,” she muttered under her breath, with the air of someone still astonished to find out how much of their folklore was based on truth. “I never thought about why it was called that.”

“Do you have a name?” Magnus asked. She might not yet, depending on how long it had been since she found out what she was. Magnus hadn’t for a long time in the gap between the normal child he thought he had been and the person he had found himself to be.

“Aoi,” the girl mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of soup. She ate slowly, Magnus noticed, taking a long time between one bite of food and the next. He also noticed that she hadn’t removed her scarf, despite the warmth of the noodle stall.

“I’m going to make a guess, and I want you to tell me how close I am,” Magnus said. “Something about you changed suddenly, and frightened you so badly, you ran away. Kyoto is filled with foxfire lights, which you were suddenly able to see. You followed them here and found yourself surrounded by all manor of things you thought only existed in stories.”

Aoi nodded, something about the movement awkward and uncoordinated. “I turned into a monster,” she whispered.

“Not a monster,” Magnus said gently. “A warlock, a magic user, like I am. Warlocks bear marks showing what they are,” he gestured at his own cat eyes, “but sometimes the marks and the ability to use magic don’t come until a child is older.” Aoi look like she was thirteen or fourteen. Old for a warlock mark to manifest, but not unheard of.

“It was my school trip. Everything was normal, and then suddenly it wasn’t,” she said. “They all screamed when they saw me,” she added in a strained whisper.

“No one here will scream,” Magnus said.

Aoi unwound her scarf, revealing an elongated neck, coiled around itself like a snake, that she had done her best to hide under the fabric. She watched Magnus warily, like she still expected him to scream and run for the hills. When he didn’t, she relaxed a little.

“How did this happen to me?” she asked.

Magnus sighed. “Warlocks are children of humans and demons. The demonic blood is what marks us and gives us the ability to use magic, but it doesn’t make us monstrous or evil. No more than any other person at least. Some demons can shapeshift. It’s likely your mother never knew what had happened.”

Aoi scrubbed a hand over her eyes, wiping away the tears before they could fall. “I can’t ever go home.”

“Do you know that for sure?” Magnus said gently. “You said your warlock mark appeared during a school trip. There’s a chance your family will still welcome you home.” It happened, sometimes, to warlocks who were lucky.

“Did your family welcome you?”

“No,” Magnus said. “But I have friends who grew up loved, despite what they are. The choice is yours. If you want to return home, I’ll go with you and help explain your situation. If you would rather stay here, I’ll teach you how to navigate the Market and how to glamor yourself so normal humans won’t notice your warlock mark.”

“I want my mom,” Aoi said in the kind of small plaintive voice that made her sound very, very young.

Magnus waved his hands, a Portal forming right inside the curtain of the stall. The kitsune behind the counter glared at him. Most Downworlders considered it rude to open Portals in the middle of the Market. Magnus ignored him and stood up.

“Then let’s go and hope for the best,” Magnus said. “Think of home and this will take us straight there.”

Aoi’s eyes went wide with awe. She looked down at her own hands. “Will I be able to do this kind of magic?”

“With enough time and training,” Magnus said. “Being a warlock isn’t all bad,” he added with a wink. “Now think about home.”

Aoi wound her scarf back around her coiled neck, took a deep breath, and led the way through the Portal.