#she herself is not straight no one in the common wealth is so it’s more than

[dykedvonte]

Curie, trying to bond with fellow synth Danse at Sanctuary Pride: You are what the Commonwealth callz ze “Faggot”, no?

Everyone: *stunned silence*

Sole Survivor, distraught: …Curie, you can��t just say that to someone.

Hancock, patting Danse on the back: Even if it’s true.

[thecomfywriter]

See, I won't ask you about Von Doro's simps because I get it this time, but what would you say her style of rule is? Is she more conniving, more a fan of shows of force, more willing to delegate or is she apt to do anything important herself?

hi ilia! you've got the first von doro ask for today. let's get straight into it, shall we?

day six of tcw's 12 days of askmas--von doro's ruling style [tov and sai spoilers]:

i'm going to start my answer off with an excerpt from tov, oops. from markum's words himself...

“She was… magnificent. Glorious could not describe those days adequately. Von Doro is much older than all of us, with centuries of experience on her roster, and she showed for all it in her geniality and remarkable leadership. She was made to be a Queen. Soilaila deserved nothing less than her and could receive nothing better. [...] Politics were her mother tongue, and she was fluent in the languages of peace and stability. The image you know of Von Doro is a democratic campaign to mar the great reign she truly inspired. Because if Soilaila remembers its golden age in under her rule, this democracy will seem pathetic. [...] Life was in balance when she was our Queen. They say she spoke for the Elements and that they spoke to her through the volcano. Nature was in harmony and Soilaila thrived in agriculture and magic alike with her reign. Dragons still flew above, with wingspans that combatted the clouds, and they roamed our streets like free beings. [...] Do you see the width of all our streets, boy? Makes no sense for the Bazaar to be so wide and large in now’s age, but then, both our population was robust, and the dragons were our friendly siblings. [...] What more can I tell you? The economy thrived in her wake, as the Bazaar acted as a trading hub between the dragons and the Families. With magic still very well alive and active, the Day of Gold still occurred every decade to bolster our queendom’s wealth, and the decennial volcanic explosions fertilized the lands so our resources were never lacking. [...] See our lovely abode, my boy? This was the architecture in her reign. These tall ceilings, these elmwood doors, these arches and curves—high beams and branches running along the entire spine. Its entire design was meticulous, crafty, and entirely aesthetic. The Artists of her era were inspired by her visions and conscripted by her Council for a remarkable city planning, not like the insultingly cramped slums the Jervees’ new architectural design inspires. [...] Do you see now, my boy? The glory of her era? The honesty of her character? You have not had the privilege to witness one of her courts, or you would never the mind to ever accuse Her Majesty of any wrongdoing. She was so noble and true in character, there was not a single claim she made without taking a blood oath in commitment. That is the nobility, the loyalty, the honesty of her character.” - Throne of Vengeance: Volume One, Chapter 18: ALAN and the monarchists

note: this quote is not all one paragraph in the book LOL. i just did it to condense the scene for you. the highlighted portions are to emphasize the most important parts. but now, let me actually expand on it.

von doro's monarchy was built on the principles of her indefinite authority, which was sponsored by the gods themselves. in exchange for providing soilaila with wealth, protection, and magic from the gods, she expected unshakeable loyalty to her rule and command. any deviations from this assumption, and she would rather call one of her limiouses to take care of the problem, or one of her counsellors. she rarely got involved herself, because von doro never left the volcano.

most of the common politics of the monarchy were discussed amongst her counsellors and advisors (the original purpose of the jervees), but the final decision was made by her authority alone. her counsellors couldn't overturn her rule, even if their objection carried the majority over her, simply because she was considered the voice of the gods. HOWEVER, once jer'vazir had entered von doro's courts, she considered his opinion worthy enough to challenge her own. therefore, if he opposed her, she would actually heed his counsel.

the blood oath part is a huge principle of von doro's monarchy, and why people to this day (in modern soilaila) retained their loyalties to her. a queen who was willing to sign every promise she made in blood was essentially her telling her subjects: "if i fail you, nature itself will take my life." the very fact that she still breathed was proof that she made no empty promises, which is why she was trusted.

THAT BEING SAID...

there's a reason why hilbert's debut in society as a limious started to shake the foundations of von doro's reign, and that's because he was the antithesis to her reign's weakest link: its opacity.

this isn't explored until markum and iyzela's memories in sai, where you watch the rise and fall of the monarchy first hand. i LOVE these chapters (i've said this so many times before lol oops) but MWAH MWAH. there's a line in iyzela's memories specifically where she basically tells markum "the reason why the pendulum swings his way is because he answers the questions about von doro she refuses to share. her mystery will be her downfall."

anyhow... i'm yambling at this point.

thanks for the ask, ilia!

-- the holiday limited-edition tag list --

@wyked-ao3 @an-indecisive-nerd @drchenquill

@paeliae-occasionally @theink-stainedfolk @inseasofgreen

@thelovelymachinery @the-letterbox-archives @illarian-rambling

@bunnymermaidwrites @the-golden-comet @sm-writes-chaos

@leahnardo-da-veggie @corinneglass

[please tell me if you don't wanna be tagged i promise i will stop 🥺]

[taylortruther]

performance of gender in the taylor swift cinematic universe //

is her music her giving us a peak into the romanticisms of her inner life and the places she allows herself to get lost, taking on many different narrators?

i'm not sure i understand the question!

but no, my performance of gender thoughts are more about how taylor presents as uber hyper feminine, travis as uber masculine, how their ever so slight deviations from their stereotypes (taylor's wealth/power, travis being idk willing to shed a tear) seem so huge when looked at through a heteronormative lens, which is most of society tbh so i understand why most swifties lose their minds over it even though i also find it funny.

or how good girlism has infected taylor for most of her life and how we see it even in ttpd and how it tells us a lot of what her views of gender are. because the archetypes of good girls and bad boys are basically just gendered relationship norms.

or how the story in ttpd - leaving a ltr, rebounding with someone bad for her, centered on marriage/babies/public shaming/propriety - feels SO traditional, so 'straight'! and it's super common because the expectations put on women are so flimsy and difficult to achieve while maintaining personal satisfaction, and we see this pattern when they crack in some way (sacrificing oneself for a man, seeing that blow up in your face, very badly wanting babies/marriage, being hyper-aware of how people are going to judge you for leaving or moving on or making different choices.)

...also how that relates to taylor's now-common descriptions of feeling tortured by the choice between career and domesticity.

the way parts of the fandom don't know what to do with the fact that taylor WANTS traditional things like marriage, a masculine partner, etc. and they have to twist to explain how she wants them in nontraditional ways (such as, considering joe unmasculine, which, lol) because they are very concerned with her losing her power. that in itself is a symptom of how shame and empowerment coexist in women. and taylor so clearly finds so much power in being a woman and presenting as a pretty traditional one.

the physical presentation of her gender (the clothes, makeup, mannerisms, whatever) but the artistic presentation (witches, hester prynne, cassandra, good girl, hunter, prey, the man, smart, fearsome, caged animal, bride, wife, mother, boss)

...among other things! this doesn't touch on the gaylor of it all which is a very interesting way of considering how her gender is presented when NOT viewed so heteronormatively.

[eternalglitch]

Any tips on writing characters?? I’m currently writing a fic and I’m struggling anytime it’s not Mikey or Leo. I tried to write Donnie but it’s just… something’s not right. In my opinion, you did BRILLIANTLY with writing characters!! So yeah if you have any tips I’d be very happy to hear! -Sherbet

Part of the answer is simple practice and study. Particularly reading a lot of books with protagonists that behave in ways you personally would never.

I find that people tend to behave all the same; they have a primary want(s) and they try and accomplish that. The rest is just their particular ways of expressing those wants, their likes and dislikes, what kind of weight they put on different things when making choices, and so on and so forth.

I can't really use Donnie as an example because Donnie is actually the closest character to my actual personality, and is thus the easiest character to write for me. So for this example... let's go hard mode, let's say I'm doing a chapter with Big Mama. (My nemesis in writing. I love her but writing her makes me SWEAT.)

First up, her core. I'd assess that she wants wealth followed by power/control. Most moves she makes are to gain one of those. Either she directly gets monetary benefits in an interaction, or she gains power or the upper hand over someone. It's also good to note less important preferences, like food or clothing or TV shows, if you know them. The character might reference them or think about them.

Next up, how direct or indirect of a character is she? Extremely indirect. She'll say a lot of things, but there tends to be layers underneath what she is saying that is what she actually means unless she is in a position where she already has power and can demand something. She'll also straight up lie (or, at least, tell everything BUT the truth.)

She's also quick to follow logic and is rather intelligent. This will help in judging how she can respond to OTHER characters and if she will catch onto other people's emotions and if they are telling the truth.

After that, I'll note how past experiences might influence her; perhaps she's a bit more wary of leaving herself open to sabotage from Draxum, or maybe she has underlying anger that Splinter ran from her. People take notes from what they have experienced and that will reflect in their decision making processes.

Now, the hard part for particularly this character. Physical body behavior and speech patterns that instantly clue in the reader that this is that specific character. Watch for any common tells. Big Mama leans back on desks and walls a lot. She'll cross her arms as a more closed-off character. She has "siren eyes" particularly around Splinter. And she has very specific speaking patterns and made up words in her dialogue that I have a screenshot folder for whenever I am trying to write her for reference.

I also change the actual writing depending on who is narrating. Donnie's POV will be more factual. He'll take in more details of the surroundings, give more details about technology he is using. Mikey will be more interested in facial expressions. If I was in a Big Mama POV, it would ALSO be facial expressions but with an undertone of "how do I use this against them?" as well as where people are standing in case a fight breaks out. Donnie's tech might catch her eye and be given far more details than if, say, Leo or Raph was narrating. They would just note he has tech and move on.

So... yeah! That's my "break down a character" process I kind of go through mentally when starting to write a new character. Hopefully something in here helped!

[thebibliosphere]

The amount of psychic damage I'm taking from the tag "Bruce Wayne Muppet Threesome" is not insignificant, but I suppose I had it coming.

Also, because I might as well ride this crackfic into the Lazarus Pit:

The Muppets eventually do make a film with Gotham in it. The premise starts not unlike the other Muppet movies, where the Muppets are fractured, and Kermit is trying to get the gang back together. For this, he must travel around the US, finding the location of the other Muppets.

When the time comes to find Miss Piggy, the screen cuts to Wayne Manor, the other Muppets standing outside the imposing iron gates.

"Well, we tried," Rizzo intones nasally, already walking off. Gonzo catches him around the neck, hauling him back.

"Where are you going?"

"Home! What, you think she's going to leave Bruce Wayne?"

Kermit's face goes through numerous stages of grief before squaring into the kind of grim determination that can only happen when you have a fist for a jaw. "We have to try," the Frog affirms, then stoically presses the gate buzzer.

The scene cuts to inside the manor, where Miss Piggy is shown lounging on an opulent chaise, surrounded by immense wealth and luxury. Empty bottles of champagne everywhere and an inordinate amount of food. It's clear there was a party last night. She is dressed not unlike Debbie from the Addams family, her face covered by a fluffy pink eyemask embroidered in gold thread that reads "Wake Me In Paris" in gaudy, swirling font. In the background, a picture of Bruce Wayne and Miss Piggy can be seen on a table. The frame is neon pink and shaped like a heart. Bruce looks happier than he's ever done in his entire life. (Probably because he couldn't stop cracking up when it was being taken.)

There's a knock at the door, and she wakes with a snort, ripping away the eyemask. "What?" she demands harshly before correcting herself into a more ladylike twinkle. "I mean, who is it?"

Alfred appears as firm and imperious as ever. Perfectly straight-faced. "Forgive me, madame, but we appear to have a common rabble at the door."

"So? Release the hounds. Brother, do I have to think of everything around here?"

Alfred clears his throat, the slightest twitch of a smile on his face. It's gone before the camera can narrow in on it. "It appears they are friends of yours, madame. Ah, one Mister Kermit the Frog and, um, associates."

"Kermi!" she exclaims before she can stop herself. "I mean, uh, very well, send them in."

The Muppets traipse into the opulent room, googly eyes roaming everywhere in astonishment. "Wow," Gonzo breathes.

"Food!" Rizzo exclaims, lunging toward the comestibles and shoving his face into a bowl.

Gonzo hauls him back, glancing at Alfred apologetically. "Sorry.

But Kermit only has eyes for Ms Piggy. "You look well, Pigathia," he says solemn and sincere.

"I do? I mean, of course, I do." She harumphs, turning her back on him. "How could I not? I'm only the wealthiest pig in the world." She turns back, expression coy over her shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Well, we're trying to get the old gang back together. Our old theaters being shut down, and I just thought that maybe one last show might--"

"That's why you're here. For the show?"

Kermit takes a deep, shuddering breath. "No. That's not why I'm here. Gosh darnit, Piggy Lee, I want you back. I love you, and I know deep down" -- "way down," Rizzo supplies before getting elbowed -- "that you love me too."

She turns slowly. As though drawn by some invisible string. Her expression falls. "I do. I did. Once upon a time. But Kermi... Bruce takes care of me."

"I'll say--" "Rizzo!"

She carries on as if the others hadn't spoken. "I know you love me. But I also know I'll only ever be second best to the show. With Bruce," she sighs dreamily. "He's rich, handsome, and most importantly, dumb as a rock. I'm the most important pig in town. I'm practically running the joint. You really think I'm going to give up all this." She gestures around the grandeur. "For a penniless Frog who can't see past the next show?"

"Well..." Kermit hesitates, face falling. "Yes. I guess... I guess I did."

Gonzo and Rizzo share a look. "I think we better go," Gonzo says, placing a consoling hand on Kermit's shoulder. "Come on, guys. It was nice seeing you again, Piggy."

"Yeah, real nice," Rizzo intones, shoving as much food into his pockets as his little rat hands can grab.

Kermit shakes himself. "No. I refuse to believe it! This isn't you, Piggy Lee. You might think it is, but it isn't. All this wealth, the silk robes, the fancy food. I know you, Piggy Lee; I know you better than anyone, and you're not this shallow. You're a performer, a star. You were made to be loved by the stage. Not just some... some billionaire playboy who can give you whatever you want whenever you want. I have to believe that because otherwise, what the heck has it all been for? What have we been for? So what do you say, Pigathia? Will you come home? Come back to the show where you belong. For me?"

There's a long, heavy pause, and Miss Piggy sighs.

The following scene cuts to the Muppets flailing down the Wayne Manor driveway, yelling comically as several snarling rottweilers chase them.

"And stay out!" Miss Piggy yells after them. When she turns back to Alfred, she resumes her ladylike poise. "Alfie, be a dear and tell Brucie I'll be home late tonight. Mama's got some shopping to do."

"Very good, Madame."

She eventually shows up at the Muppet show at the last minute to save the day, a happy, bumbling Bruce tagging beside her. Later, when the Muppets are all on stage, the human protagonists, who are in the audience and seated next to Bruce, remark, "Wow, I can't believe they raised the money to save the theater!"

"They didn't," Bruce says with a small, knowing smile. His gaze turns to Miss Piggy adoringly, sighing wistfully. "But I just can't say no to that pig."

Henceforth it becomes Muppet canon that Miss Piggy and Bruce Wayne are in a heated on-again-off-again relationship. Neither Kermit nor Bruce seems to mind each other, leading to an episode of Sesame Street several years down the line where Elmo explains that sometimes a child can have one mommy and no daddy, or one daddy and no mommy, or have one daddy and one mommy, or two daddys and no mommies or vice versa, and sometimes if you're the Wayne kids, a daddy, a frog, and a pig.

Bruce will never live it down, but it's worth it. Letting the Muppets into his life is possibly the best longcon of his life. Who the fuck is going to believe he's Batman now? No one. Not even the butts matching can hold up to him being Miss Piggy and Kermit's sidepiece.

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 21a

*Warning Adult Content*

The Motel Room - Part 1

- Everett -

"It's been twenty minutes and they're still..." Everett's heart pounds with a bone-chilling fear as he gawks at the sleek, black SUV that appears to move in perfect synchronization with Michael's car. "Hey, you guys...? I think we're being followed right now. Check out this black car."

Michael's grip instinctively tightens on the steering wheel as he glances into the rear-view mirror.

"Who would follow us? No one knows where you are."

"Right. I was just going to say the same thing."

Alissa turns around in the passenger seat to check out the car that has stolen Everett's attention.

"Babe, I really don't think there's anything for you to stress about," she says, trying to calm Everett down. "Traffic is ridiculous today and it seems like no one knows where the hell they want to go."

"I don't know. Something feels off..." Everett mumbles, mostly to himself.

The large SUV has tinted windows and a glossy black exterior that glints underneath the afternoon sun.

It's spotless like it came straight from a car wash, the tires are thick and hefty, ready to take on any terrain, the front grill is so wide and daunting that it gives the vehicle a slightly menacing look.

It's driver clearly has wealth but Everett can't get a good look at their face.

His mind wants to immediately jump to The Jackals.

He knows they're after him and that they won't stop pursuing him until they catch him.

Everett fears this moment may very well be it.

"I'm sorry for being dramatic but can you please switch lanes? I just want to see something," Everett asks Michael.

He nods but hesitates for a split second while checking the rear-view mirror again, then he shifts to the left lane.

To Everett's relief, the SUV doesn't follow.

"See? I told you it was nothing," Alissa says, though her wavering tone makes it sound like she barely believes herself.

Michael doesn't miss how her hands fidget nervously in her lap.

"Fine. Maybe you were right." Everett breathes a sigh of relief but his mind is still racing with awful 'What If' scenarios throughout the rest of the drive.

His heart rate never really returns to normal and his paranoia remains high even after they pull into the parking lot of Cupid's Stop Motel.

The flickering neon sign situated above the motel's entrance looks like one strong gust of wind will be enough to send it crashing down to the ground.

A seedy looking character exits his room with what appears to be a joint in his mouth and a small pocket knife attached to his belt, making it clear this place doesn't give a shit about the safety and security of its patrons.

While exiting the car with his bags, Everett's common sense returns to him much too late.

Regret about sneaking out and running away from the clubhouse starts to sink in, part of him wishing he'd given someone a heads up on where he was going.

"Should we call someone for him? Knox, maybe?" Alissa asks Michael after Everett zooms past them to unlock the door to his motel room. "They've gotten pretty close since this whole mess started, which is still super weird to think about."

"I honestly don't even know. What if he gets here and that sets Everett off even more?" Michael whispers back. "I get he chose this place on a whim, but it's really such a fucking dump. He'll never feel safe staying here and neither will I. We should look for someplace else to stay for the night."

"I agree but maybe after he calms down first," Alissa says.

Alissa and Michael exchange more worried glances as they watch Everett's fear consume him.

They can think of nothing comforting to say as Everett frantically secures the dingy motel room.

He closes the blinds like he's on a time limit, switches both locks on the door and then barricades the door with a chair.

Alissa steps forward but Michael puts a hand on her shoulder, giving her a small shake of his head.

Touching him in this state might only make things worse.

"Hey, babe. Is there anything you need from us right now? We want to help but we don't know how..." Alissa comments.

She takes a seat next to Michael at the foot of the bed, both watching the wild way that Everett's eyes dart around the room.

"Want to have a seat and talk?"

Everett shakes his head and continues to pace the floor.

"I just can't stop thinking about that damn car. Did it not look suspicious to you guys at all? Am I the only one who thinks so?"

"Wouldn't it make more sense for us to get followed by a dude on a motorcycle than some stranger driving an SUV?" Alissa questions.

"What? No..." Everett sighs, running a hand over his face. "Bikers drive regular vehicles too, Alissa."

"Sorry. I didn't know you were suddenly an expert on bikers," Alissa mutters.

"I'm not," Everett snaps.

"Okay. Let's all just chill out for a second, yeah?" Michael interjects. "Everett, that SUV didn't follow us when I switched lanes, remember? I think we're good, man. We're… safe," he says the word like it's a struggle for him to get it out. Alissa nudges him in the side, and he clears his throat to try again. "Everything is going to be fine. We're safe."

"Thanks. You both sound very convincing," Everett remarks with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

He pulls out his cell phone and turns it back on after locking himself inside the tiny bathroom.

Within seconds, he's bombarded with numerous missed texts and calls from Knox, each one more urgent than the last.

There is even a handful from Finn and Josie.

Everett reads through every single one, tears pooling in his eyes as guilt rips him apart from the inside out.

He wants to respond to Knox and explain himself but the fear of how Knox might react holds him back.

How angry will Knox be once they're reunited?

Will he finally toss Everett aside after coming to terms with the fact that Everett is simply too much trouble for him to deal with?

Just how royally did Everett fuck up by running off unannounced?

'I'm such an idiot. So fucking stupid... Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.'

Everett takes a deep breath in and exhales slowly, his hands trembling as he slides his phone into his pocket.

He stares at his reflection in the grimy mirror, feeling completely disconnected from the person staring back at him.

How in the world did half a night of fun turn into such a massive nightmare?

[mnemosyne-xiv]

𓆩♡𓆪 ✧ Remia's Lore ✧ 𓆩♡𓆪

The former handmaiden of the feared Witch of Doma, known to most in the Far East as the Silver Kitsune, Remia lives out her days in Namai Village researching the ancient city of Mhach to better hone her void magick under the guidance of her two voidsent companions. Despite the public outcry for her to have been executed following Yotsuyu’s death, she’s been employed as Hien’s Arcane Advisor and, unexpectedly, has become a trusted confidant of the young Lord.

Seeing as she's a formidable void mage, it came as little surprise when her sister Ravn, a former Scion, contacted her asking for assistance looking into matters concerning the Thirteenth. At Hien's behest, Remia now begrudgingly accompanies Ravn, Y’shtola, Vrtra, and Estinien on their quest to rescue Azdaja. And to make matters worse, Zero seems to have taken a particular interest in her and her voidsent summons. So much for not being roped into this world-saving nonsense…again.

Below the cut is Remia's entire backstory from her childhood to 6.1 for those curious about her history. Beware, the rabbit hole goes deep into the void so don't click to continue unless you want a wiki page worth of info thrown at you ^^; ♡ by no means is this meant for rp purposes. just here to give a timeline for those wanting to know more about my precious cynical miqo and for me to keep her lore straight

PRE-STORMBLOOD

Two Sisters

Being born with striking ivory hair and a single white eye into a previously influential and wealthy family, Remia was seen as a curse. She was an outcast among the other children in Gridania. The only person to treat her kindly was her sister Ravn. An adventurous soul by nature with a strong moral compass and love for all things mechanical, Ravn protected Remia as best she could���both from the cruel children that would bully her and from their parents who were steadily growing more abusive with every passing week.

Forsaken

As their family wealth began to dwindle thanks to mismanagement of funds and falling victim to countless scams, Remia's parents blamed her for their misfortune. They wanted nothing more than to be rid of both her and Ravn. With the last of their money, their parents ventured across the sea and brought the girls to Kugane where they sold off Remia to a band of corrupt pirates from the Ruby Sea for a hefty price. As for Ravn, she became game for the Viera tribes of the Golmore Jungle. Since the day they were sold, the two sisters wouldn't see one another again until much, much later under very different circumstances.

Ruby Hell

Growing up on the unrelenting tides of the Ruby Sea, Remia quickly became a spectacle to those who believed in the Kami. Many a gullible Doman would pay thousands of gil to simply see her when she was younger. The older she grew, the more crude the requests became. Abused, starved, and treated as nothing more than a pet fox by the vile pirates that kept her captive, she attempted to maim herself in hopes of lowering her value. Turns out a half-blind fox goes for more than she could have ever imagined... So much so that one of her regulars gifted her a rare grimoire rumored to belong to a powerful Mhachi void mage.

Freedom

One fateful evening, the pirate ship she was stowed away on was raided by the Confederacy. Remia refused the help of Tansui and Rasho when they attempted to reach out and offer her a place among their crew. It was common knowledge she was stuck on that ship being exploited and abused for years now so why was it only then they decided to come to her aid..? She didn't trust them. With her grimoire as her sole possession, she fled the Ruby Sea altogether and made for the nearby villages in hopes of finding somewhere to hide.

Unlikely Friendship

Having been raised out in the Ruby Sea, all Remia knew was how to use her looks to get by. It was only expected that she'd once again end up as a courtesan this time working at a proper pleasure house. She was treated better there, but by no means was that an ideal way of living. Though, one good thing did come from working at such an establishment: befriending a girl named Yotsuyu.

Remia and Yotsuyu grew close over their shared loathing and distrust of humanity. Life is brutal and unfair, a fact they were all too familiar with. Only by their own hands could they change their fate, and Remia desperately needed someone she could rely on in this godforsaken world. Where Yotsuyu dreamed of crushing Doma, forcing every last Doman to suffer as she had, Remia simply wanted to survive.

Her memories were beginning to fray and fade. Yotsuyu was the sole person who remained fresh in her mind—even her sister had been all but forgotten by this point. Yotsuyu was kind to her. Protected her. Remia didn't understand why her memories were becoming an unsolvable jigsaw puzzle, but she knew that regardless of how much further her recollection degraded, Yotsuyu would always be there for her. It was them against the world.

STORMBLOOD

An Imperial Upgrade

After Zenos crushed the Doman Resistance and crowned Yotsuyu as the new Imperial viceroy of Doma, Remia too was taken into the Imperial Army as Yotsuyu's handmaiden. A title that in reality meant she was Yotsuyu's personal guard and assassin both. She held no allegiance to the Imperials nor to Zenos for that matter. Her sole loyalty lay with Yotsuyu—though even that wasn't entirely true.

As Yotsuyu's treatment of the Domans grew worse and far too cruel for even her to stomach, Remia found herself slowly being backed into a corner. She would quietly try to dissuade Yotsuyu from ordering her to carry out her most vile punishments. And when that would inevitably fail, she would leave for whichever village had drawn the viceroy's ire and dole out a more lenient punishment than what Yotsuyu had ordered. For as terrible as life had treated her thus far, Remia didn't see the point in inflicting pain on those who were truly innocent, needlessly perpetuating the cycle of hatred.

Beginning of their End

Remia knew in her heart that once word reached her and Yotsuyu that these Scions had come to liberate Doma, their time together was limited. The Warrior of Light herself would herald in a new age full of promise for Doma at the expense of herself and Yotsuyu being cast out into the deepest pit of the seven hells.

Something needed to change. Yotsuyu couldn't be allowed to continue her obsessive crusade, but neither did Remia wish for her to die at the blade of the young Lord who somehow survived the rebellion. And then there was the matter of that strange ashen miqo'te she encountered during her last clash with Yugiri and the Warrior of Light while guarding Zenos. Everything was a mess. Only her grimoire brought her comfort. A grimoire that was slowly beginning to corrupt her.

The Fall from Grace

The siege on Doma Castle was the final nail in the coffin. Remia defended against the Doman Liberation Front for as long as she could. Grynewaht cut down an endless sea of rebels with her by his side until the lower levels of the castle were flooded, forcing them to retreat if only somewhat. Remia eventually left him to delay the Warrior of Light while she ran back up to the keep to find Yotsuyu once it became clear this wasn't going to end well. They needed to escape while they could. There was still time—

When Remia made it to the keep, her desperate pleas for Yotsuyu to flee fell on deaf ears. Yotsuyu revealed to Remia that her true plan all along was to destroy Doma Castle, burying both her and the prince once and for all. She spoke like a mad woman. Remia tried one last time to get her to run away. They could start anew somewhere far away from Doma if only she would just trust her. And then Hien along with the rest of his party barged into the keep. Before Remia could try to fight them off, she found herself pushed over the balcony by none other than Yotsuyu. A final act of kindness to give her the chance to live out a new life assuming she survived the fall.

Before she met the jagged rocks at the base of the sinking castle, a dark portal roiled to life underneath Remia, swallowing her whole.

Dark Patron

Inside the darkness that saved her from certain death, she met a small voidsent imp. Still in shock after the events that just transpired, Remia didn't say a word as the imp proposed an offer: he'd reveal to her the truth behind her memory loss in exchange for helping him find a way home to his darkness-consumed world. He was far too weak to return on his own—forget about surviving if he did manage such a feat—and only by leeching off of her aether could he eventually regain his strength to return. Remia agreed without much thought if only to get this imp to take her back to Yotsuyu.

A Fleeting Reunion

Doma Castle now reduced to rubble, Remia found herself in the heart of the Doman Enclave. The imp held true to his word and brought her back to Yotsuyu, or rather "Tsuyu". Her friend was a shell of her former self. Perhaps she was a more accurate version of the woman she could have become if life hadn't been so cruel. And though Tsuyu had forgotten most everything from before the castle's collapse, there was a flicker of recognition behind her eyes when she saw Remia. A feeling that the strange fox-girl was someone important.

Remia was quick to get over her shock and asked Gosetsu and Hien both if she could stay by Yotsuyu's side. Against the wishes of his people, Hien agreed and spared her life.

Day after day, Remia refused to leave Tsuyu unless absolutely necessary. She ignored her supposed "sister" who continued to pester her in favor of spending as much time with Tsuyu as she could. Gosetsu too was kind to her and her friend despite their bloodied history. Fate had given them a second chance at life, just as she had wished for, and Remia wasn't going to waste it. Memories be damned, so long as Yotsuyu was alive, there was hope for their future—hope that was quickly snuffed out when Asahi came to visit.

Goodbye to our Future

Remia found Yotsuyu just after she had regained her memories and murdered her parents. They fled the enclave together and returned to the Garlean airship where Asahi was waiting for them both. He left the two to their own devices while he set off finalizing the last of the preparations for the prisoner exchange that was to be taking place the next day. Alone in Yotsuyu's personal chamber, the two women reminisced over the years they had spent together late into the night until they eventually fell asleep.

The following morning, Remia woke up alone, the door to Yotsuyu's room locked. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach while she desperately tried to break free. By the time she finally managed to break out and find Yotsuyu, it was once again too late. She ran into Castrum Fluminis right as Yotsuyu stabbed Asahi with Tsukuyomi's katanas.

In her final moments, Yotsuyu admitted to Remia that she had tried to push her away if only to spare her from the endless darkness she had wanted to plunge Doma into. A futile effort, clearly. She thanked Remia for being her only friend. The only person who saw her for who she truly was and never abandoned or tried to change her.

By the time Gosetsu and Hien returned, Yotsuyu had peacefully passed away in Remia's protective embrace.

Building Trust

Following Yotsuyu's death, Remia's memories degraded at a rapid rate. Even her memories of Yotsuyu were slowly becoming a muddied, jumbled mess in her recollection. At Gosetsu's request, Hien took Remia in. And, as a silent gesture of thanks for how well they treated "Tsuyu", she pledged herself to Hien. Soon after she was put to work as his advisor on all things aether and magick related. Though her memories concerning her life were becoming fewer with every passing day, her knowledge of the arcane remained intact thanks to the imp's intervention. With the imp named Vetis by her side, Remia began her research into her grimoire's origins while aiding in the Doman Enclaves' restoration as per Hien's request.

When Hien and Yugiri left for the Ghimlyt Dark, it was Remia that the young Lord left in charge of his nation's defenses. When they returned and told her that each of the Scions had fallen unconscious, including her sister, it was Remia who Hien asked to be ready to leave and help the Eorzean Alliance should capable warriors be called upon. And when word indeed came from a former adversary asking for assistance in dealing with a restored Allagan machina bound for Eorzea, Remia was the first to answer the call.

SHADOWBRINGERS

Yet Another Voidsent?

The last visit she paid Hien just before she left for Werlyt, Remia was greeted not only by Hien but by a strange womanly angel of sorts claiming to be a voidsent that's been searching for her for thousands of years. Feeling like this was best left to her to handle, Hien excused himself after he explained the situation and bid her a safe journey, leaving Remia to deal with this new "voidsent".

Her name is Gremory, and Vetis does corroborate her claims of being a voidsent—or at least was one. Her aether has been manipulated from being consumed by darkness to somehow being entirely drenched in light. A product of her master's experiments dating back to the Fifth Astral Era, the same era Remia's grimoire is from. After speaking with Gremory for hours, Remia had more questions than answers. This new voidsent believes her to be the reincarnation of her dead master and still somehow houses a portion of his original soul? And Vetis thinks that there's truth to her words? Crazy, the both of them.

An End to Imperial Rule

From beginning to end, Remia and her two voidsent companions stuck with Gaius, Valdeulin, and Severa while she dealt with each of the terrible weapons Valens had at his disposal. An unlikely friendship bloomed between her and Gaius over the course of her grim work. He didn't look at her with contempt nor did he pity her for her past. He understood what it was like to be on the losing side of history, written off as a mere villain deserving of death with no hope of redemption. He was the second person in her life to understand her. She might even venture so far as to call Gaius a friend—though she'd never admit that.

And during the lengthy amounts of time locating the next Weapon, Remia would return to Othard to aid the Bozjan Resistance against the IVth Imperial Legion. Mind you, this wasn't her idea. Once she returned from the First, Ravn had gone to Hien during one of Remia's times away from Doma and asked him personally to convince her reclusive sister to come to Gangos. Remia couldn't remember Ravn, and still to this day can't recall their childhood, but the earnest request for her to join the fight was enough reason for Remia to begrudgingly agree. Together, while the Warrior of Light was handling her own duties on the First concerning Eden, the two sisters took on the whole of the Imperial army and came out victorious.

ENDWALKER

The Ilsabard Contingent

Having spent her time studying void magick under the supervision of not one but two voidsents, Remia was more than happy to oblige when Hien came asking her to be Doma's representative among the Ilsabard Contingent. To say the Scions were skeptical of Hien's choice of trusted confidant would be a sore understatement. Though after Ravn and Aestelle, the Warrior of Light herself, vouched for her, Remia was reluctantly accepted into their ranks. And once the introductions were underway, she and Gremory were forgotten, happily so.

When the Contingent landed in Ilsabard, Remia summoned Gremory to help incapacitate the IIIrd Legion troops led by Vergilia. She didn't hold back now that she finally had a proper battleground to fight on. With so much open space at her disposal, it would have been a terrible injustice not to light the sky aflame with dark magicks utilized by the very voidsent all of Hydaelyn fear. From that moment onwards, those both in and outside of the Contingent knew her as more than just "Yotsuyu's loyal fox" or "Ravn's corrupt sister". Now Remia was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

The Worth of Mankind

The Final Days began anew and, in all honesty, Remia didn't particularly care for the how and why behind the manmade apocalypse. A scholar asked his familiar to pose a flawed question to civilizations on other planets that in turn led said depressed bird to end all life in existence. The longer she tried to make sense of the insanity, the more hilarious she found the situation to be. It was all so very human. A comfort, really.

Using her void magick to her advantage, Remia teleported between Othard and Sharlayan regularly to deal with the blasphemy threat back home while aiding the Scions when they had need of her talents and fragmented knowledge. She watched with amusement as the Scions ran here and there, desperately trying to forestall the inevitable. They even went so far as to travel to the moon and then to the far edge of the universe! Remia stayed behind to protect Sharlayan, taking in the chaos while slowly coming to appreciate the lengths to which mankind would go to work together when pitted against a common foe. At such a display, it was no wonder she and Yotsuyu were defeated by the Scions. It was just the two of them against the world, after all.

While all of Sharlayan anxiously waited for the Scions to return victorious as they always did, Remia watched the snow gently dance from the pale grey sky seemingly without a care. It was during that quiet moment a familiar face came slowly stalking up the steps leading to the Rostra. Zenos viator Galvus. She could scarcely recall seeing him in Ilsabard and as for their encounters while he was in Doma, those had long since been purged from her memory altogether. But he instantly recognized her. Their conversation was brief, one-sided, and left Remia with a ghost of a smile gracing her feline features. What he said to her, only she knows.

6.1 ONWARDS!

Apocalypse Averted, Now to Save a Dragon

Once the whole "Final Days, the world is ending!" fiasco passed, Remia returned to Doma for what she hoped would be for good this time. The Scions weren't fond of her—and the feelings were mutual when it came to most of them—so the less she had to deal with that group, the better. Besides, there were more than enough monsters skulking about Othard from the Final Days just waiting for her to personally send them back to the lifestream. Finally, she'd have time to hone her magick, perfect her summon of Gremory's battle form, and research the truth behind her memory loss that Vetis had been avoiding.

All of that would have to wait for not even two weeks after the Final Days had come to an end, another letter from Ravn was sent to the Doman Enclave. Now at Hien's behest, Remia is forced to once again join her sister on some impromptu heroic journey to save a dragon imprisoned on the Thirteenth. At least she'll have the chance to better learn her void magick...hopefully.

I know this was a lot and if you read it all, thank you for making it to the end! I hope her backstory was interesting and gave you some insight into the reason behind her chaotic nature ^^

[razorblade180]

Priceless

Inside The Palace of Alcazarzaray, Aether gazed upon marvelous treasures and wonders that nearly blinded his eyes with how shiny they were. Not to mention the worldwide spread of food on various tables. He’s seen rich people before but this was impressive. Diluc was humble with it, Ningguang was lavish yet not too imposing, the Kamisatos were refined and regal with their wealth. Dori however, Aether felt like this was somehow the biggest flex. Maybe that’s the difference from linage versus effort; you want to go big. Her and Ningguang might have interesting conversations about that.

Aether:I can see how Kaveh got in dept…

Paimon:*already eating*

Aether:Yeah that’s about right.

Dori:Welcome!!! Hahaha!

Madam Sangemah Bay herself stood at the top of stairs with arms raised and pride beaming. She ran to the railing and slid down as her laughter filled the corridor. Aether then realized something. In terms of electros he met, they all can fit on triangular graph with Ei, Lisa, and Fischl being each point and then everyone else is somewhere inside the graph near them. Forget the Ningguang conversion. Dori and Fischl galavanting around at a feast sounded hilarious.

Aether:Happy Birthday Dori.

Dori:Thank you my dear and most humorous customer!

Aether:Me? I feel pretty straight forward most of the time.

Dori:Exactly! You don’t kid yourself into circumventing my deals, you’ll flat out admit you can’t afford something, and I never know what you’ll be asking for every time we meet. You’re quite the mystery box. All the more reason I want everything so there’s nothing I don’t have to offer!

Aether:Heh, glad I’m good exercise in business practice. Also thanks for the invite.

Dori:Don’t mention it. Considering my bail after Cyno arrested me was significantly decreased thanks to “an anonymous client” and I was freed very quickly, I could only think of one person with that kind of connection that rivals my own. A shame he never paid for those kits.

Aether:Please don’t ever try your luck like that again…

Dori:Fortune favors the bold, but yeah, I’ll be on my toes. Anyways, not that o don’t enjoy your company, but… I’m curious what a gift looks like from an explorer like yourselves. If you’re half as good as Alice, then it’s easily the best gift.

Aether:What if the bail was the gift?

Dori:Then my invention countered the gesture and now we’re just two people. One happy birthday girl, and a guest who arrived with a plus one halfway through the world in food.

Aether:Ah, fair. Well it’s a good thing I did get you a gift.

Materialistic desires aside, Dori actually didn’t bounce around like someone expecting a gift. She smiled softly and simply held her and out to accept whatever it could be. Maybe it’s all the guests she’s entertained before, but perhaps Dori never expects a grand gesture to the scope of anything she could get herself. Luckily for Aether, he had something she hadn’t seen. He pulled out an ankle bracelet made from gems Dori immediately knew to be amethysts and cor lapis. All in all, it didn’t look expensive, but it also didn’t come off as cheap. Those gems were easy to find and people who made accessories from them was common enough businesses practice. However, the pattern and overall woven style of it wasn’t one she was familiar with.

Dori:Oh? Where’d you find this little beauty.

Aether:I made it.

Dori:Come again?

Aether:Yeah hehe, I made it. Took a bit of work but it came it pretty well I think. I knew my mora couldn’t compare to yours so I spent time instead. Even made a matching bracelet for myself. Silly I know, but I figured friendship charms would be the perfect gift.

Dori:How so?

Aether:I know a few business people. I’ve come to learn being shrewd in the line of work is good, but makes other stay at arms reach or only see things as business. With this I want you to know that even if I’m a customer, we’re also friends.

Dori:I…I see. Thank you. If adventuring doesn’t work out then you clearly have other talents that could serve you well.

Aether:*smiles* Don’t mention it. Though I suppose it might look a little out of place in terms of price with everything else you’re wear-

Dori immediately put it on and then helped him with the bracelet. She didn’t say anything but he could tell she was happy. Aether laughed then went to go stop Paimon before there was nothing left for anyone.

Aether:Tell your sister I said hi. Hope she’s feeling well.

Dori:I will. Thanks *looks at anklet*

…��..

Dori:(I should really make a best friend discount.)

[kendrixtermina]

Edelgard and “meritocracy” - an essay

In this essay I wish to adress the common argument that “meritocracy bad, therefore edelgard bad” & the logical leaps therein.

Before we begin, I’d like to stress that she doesn’t even use the word “meritocracy” & they’re not even looking at it’s modern definition but reacting to the way it has been used as a fighting word to denigrate the poor specificically in the post reagan modern USA & then assuming Edelgard means the exact same thing by that without bothering to examine what she actually says & in what context.

Modern capitalism & the way it uses rhetoric of merit as an excuse is bad & with its reduction of human value to their moneymaking ability, definitely inherently ableist, I agree totally.

But 3H does NOT take place in the modern world. Progress is always relative to what came before. It*s progress away from entrenched problems.

It’s a total failure to even imagine a world different from the sucky one we live in - that’s exactly what tolkien meant  by that saying that if we’re prisoners we have a duty to escape.

Edelgard doesn’t live in a capitalist society nor is she bringing about capitalism (if anything Claude’s the one talking of free trade & giving the merchants what they want, though he is almost certainly playing them much like the church)

And the main component of capitalism - factory owners, rich elites who owns large swathes of companies or real estate - is nowhere to be found.

In our world that cropped up because industrialization made owning factories, offices, trade etc. more lucrative that just owning the land, so factory owners replaced landed lords, essentially promising the peasants freedom if they helped them overthrow the kings but granting them only in a limited manner - the flawed inequal democracies that resulted were a compromise between peasants and factory owners.

But by and large the nobles are very much in the same niche as the factory owners today - they own the land and get special trade privileges (the means of production), they often abuse the populace with impunity, the peasants are very poor.

Edelgard cracks down on corruption & special trade privileges even during the timeskip.

And like the rich of our world, they have a self-mythology propaganda justification based on merit. Yes, there is the “by the grace of god” argument, too, but crests give you extra fighting power, and if you look at the Ferdinand support for example you do see that Fodlan’s nobles - especially the adrestian ones - see themselves as a honed elite that is trained from birth & therefore better at ruling.

Not quite the same argument a modern billionaire uses - who is very invested in convincing you that they didn’t get their power and wealth by their birth - but a myth nonetheless.

Edelgard’s not bringing “meritocracy” as in brutal competition opposed to caring social safety nets, but as opposed to unearned privilege.

If you wanted to compare that to any kind of sociohistorical context, you might look at Napoleon’s peasant liberation or the implementation of civil service examinations in ancient China.

That wasn’t an all good thing - In the same way that Europe is very impacted by the legacy of rome both good & bad (there are persisting bad attitudes toward war, authority and agriculture for example), east asia still has a lot of education obsession causing pressure & unhealthy work habits to this day.

But if you compared ancient china before the reforms to ancient China after it definitely got better, by ancient china standards.

We couldn’t expect the people back then to come up with all advances up to our exact modern values at once (not can we be sure how much of our values will stand the test of time)

Considering that Fodlan’s ideal of merit is basically what Lorenz, Ingrid and Ferdinand are embodying for their respective countries, and that she stocks her inner circle with very different leaders, it is no stretch to say that she wants to shake up the social ideas of what even counts as merit, to make ppl value other things that crest power or elite upbringing, the same way we might say today that hey, cleaners are valuable actually.

Edelgard is basically doing her world’s equivalent of taxing the billionaires - reducing the power of what the overprivilieged class happens to be, & it’s obvious from her talk of how she despises inequality that she would hardly be for rule of factory owners.

When Edelgard says that she wants to make Fodlan more merit-based, that has to be taken in the context that she lives in a world where your birth determines everything, incompetent nobles can be as lazy as they want, and no one cares how competent you are if you lack a crest, title or both.

If she looked at our world, she would quickly see through the propaganda that it is supposedly “merit based” and object to how wealth and national origin obviously dictate wealth & opportunity while talented people go to waste in sweatshops.

Now of course there have been arguments even against “perfect” meritocracy - one is the devaluation of working class jobs.

To this one could answer that this is more a flaw in how merit is conceived. Historically there have been societies that exahlted blue collar work, artisans or farming.

The second argument, however, is not so easy to get rid of: That is devalues people who can’t just go & produce like machines, especially the unemployed, the sick, the mentally ill, the disabled…

But at this point we’ve got to lean back & get our definitions straight, & make it clear what we even mean by “meritocracy” -

Because if we’re just talking about the basic idea that competency should be rewarded, I don’t think too many people disagree with that. We might see a problem with valueing the competency of a doctor or lawyers dispropottionally over the competency of a cleaner or a bricklayer, but we all, by and large, want the people who prepare our goods and services to be competent. Maybe we wouldn’t exalt it over all over qualities, but most of us admire skill.

Of course the problem with the political rhetoric of “meritocracy” is that it goes beyond just rewarding skill, first with the afore mentioned rewarding of only some skills, but mostly with the reversion or overemphasis of the above: Saying that skill is the only thing that matters (to the exclusion of any inheent human value) & that those who don’t have it are worthless.

First I want to throw out the thought that this is a product of the production/profit orientation of capitalism, but one could of course imagine, as many sci fi authors have done, a non-capitalistic society that is still obsessed with merit at the exclusion of those who are not oriented towards productivity & care more about fun & relationships than producing, or those who can’t produce because they are sick or disabled.

So now we must ask ourselves the question: Which of those views does Edelgard actually hold?

Cause I want you to notice that they’re not the same. “Skill should be rewarded & jobs should be done by competent people”  is not the same position as “Skill is the ONLY thing that matters and if you don’t have it you are worthless”

In one position, skill is a good quality, in the other, it's a prerequisite to worth.

Most of us here probably agree that skill is admirable (we like and reblog pretty fanarts), but not that the unskilled are worthless.

Looking at her superficially I could perhaps see how someone might suspect her of the latter -  She gravitates to & surrounds herself with skilled intelligent people and she’s obscenely superpowered.

It’s an misunderstanding that Dimitri makes in-universe, he accuses her of “only benefitting the strong”

But note that her answer to that is that she wants to empower the weak to no longer be weak & decide their own lives, instead of accepting charity. (Contrast with how Dimitri romanticizes abyss, for example, even as Claude points out that locking the poor underground is hardly help.)

Of course she can say many things, as rulers often give florid speeches.

But let’s have a look at what she actually thinks. How does edelgard actually act towards people who struggle or aren’t productivity oriented?

This is one of her lecture questions from part I:

“When one professor lectures many students, some will inevitably have trouble keeping up, while others will get too far ahead in their studies. I wonder how this problem might be solved…”

Her favorite answer is “lectures should be optional”.

Which part of that sounds like a bell curve type eugenicist “only skill & intelligence counts” kind of person? She wants the struggling students to be taken proper care of, not just the good ones.

Look at the speeches she gives to Petra & Lysithea about not giving up on themselves & wanting them to move forward from an empowered mindset. Look at how she tells Lysithea to take it easy & not overtax her body. (Not "don't whine & keep working")

Look at Bernadetta - very much an ‘unproductive’ individual with great struggles & limitation. Does Edelgard dismiss her as a weakling? Not at all. Not even in the C support. She makes sure to stress her good qualities when introducing  her, makes an effort to be more patient so as not to scare her, & they become good friends.

Look at the Linhardt support - at first she mistakes his behavior for youthful lazyness (He’s 16 after all) & wants to get him to apply himself, but when she realizes that he just has different priorities, she respects that, & works to get him the exact sort of position that he wants. No “suck it up!” or dismissing such a different lifestyle. Nor does she chide him for hating fighting at any point.

Edelgard does everything in her power to accomodate people so they can do their best. She sees the value even in strange unsocial people that society would dismiss. She found a job for someone like Jeritza & helped him, she doesn’t hesitate to make Dorothea a general or Manuela the prime minister no matter what people say or if they don’t act like typical politicians.

Also, when she talks about choosing her sucessor, she wants them to be brilliant/competent yes, but also kind and 'an outsider' (ie, impartial) - hardly a PoV of "if you are skilled you can do whatever you want and if you aren't no other quality matters". She's prizing kindness & objectivity just as highly, something which is absolutely reflected throughout all her actions & behaviors towards others.

She doesn't devalue living quietly & low key without making waves - in fact, that is her dream life, which she deems superior to achievement and ambition, which are to her just tools to archieve good aims.

She couldn’t be further from having a narrow definition of what a “valuable” person is, she is all ABOUT empowering people to take control of their own lives, no pity-driven charity, no paternalism, none of that. This is one of my favorite traits about her, so I can’t help but get mad when people accuse her of being the exact opposite.

But maybe the biggest argument is abyss. This is where the genuine underclass lives, poor, struggling, traumatized, refugees etc.

Edelgard isn’t as vocal during Cindered Shadows as Claude - she can’t blow her cover & just isn’t as expressive personality wise. But she’s the one who makes everybody swear to take care of Abyss no matter who wins.

And her route is the one where, instead of telling you that they lost people, Hapi tells you that they’ve all been pretty much fine over the timeskip.

If you want to help the struggling & the poor and those who don't have "conventional" skills, you should back edelgard.

[adelindschade]

A Thousand Plans (A Thousand Cuts, Part 22)

Nessian plan to make a city out a of war camp. Rhys is stubborn. 

There were aspects of Velaris she missed.

Windhaven was a war camp. Buildings were sparse. Tents were common. The main source of light and heat were generated from fires. The few who had solid structure were either Lords with fortress like estates, crude by Rhys’ standards, but worthy of envy for those who lacked a barrier from the elements besides whatever canvas they could pitch.

The rest were business owners, like Emerie. It was difficult to conceive she had grown up in the second story apartment with her family. It was quaint and the lack of footage made it clear Emerie had not grown up with wealth, similar to how Nesta recalled the cabin. Nesta could appreciated that at least they had the means to support themselves.

Emerie may have despised her father, and for good reason, but he was better than Nesta’s, the latter could argue. Emerie’s father made smart business decisions – the kind that kept his children afloat even if he was six feet under. Pride was something he had but did not define him. Nesta’s father’s whole identity relied on his wealth, and without it, he believed he was nothing, and crumbled into a shell of a man. Nesta and her sisters had to suffer for his failures.

It was selfish. That was something Emerie and Nesta could relate to – still reeling from the sins of their fathers – but Emerie had inherited the shop and the final laugh alongside with it, while Nesta only had regrets to her name.

That wasn’t quite true, though. For all the years she had been conditioned to assume the head of house, she had been armed with more than grace but a mind for business, too. Her mother married an idiot who leaned too heavily on luck; Nesta would not follow her footsteps. She’d marry someone with a good head on their shoulders – or she’d make sure the books were straight herself.

“What was this?” Nesta asked, passing by a ruin. The structure was sound, but the windows needed replacing, and the interior likely had to be insulated.

“The old Post Office,” Emerie replied, giving it a glance over her shoulder. The wind ruffled the braid off her shoulder. “Like most war camps, this one almost had infrastructure, but the Lords decided that wasn’t going to happen. Few of us had the means to operate on our own but most of the money sent here to maintain the army never trickles down beyond the few in charge, so the rest of us who can’t make ends meet have to resort to slave wages. Those bastards keep it to themselves and make sure we’re dependent on them. There’s a lot of corruption no one talks about.”

Nesta nodded in understanding, eyeing the dilapidated building sorrowfully.

“What about benefits?” Nesta asked. It was ironic she was inquiring to Emerie and not Cassian.

Emerie shrugged. “You get a rank, recognition, but benefits?” she scoffed. “From my father’s experience, his compensation was absolute shit, but he wasn’t high up on command either. A foot solider, really, but he took his orders, and managed the camp when needed. All our income came from our customers – soldiers he worked with, some who heard from word of mouth – but Windhaven isn’t wealthy by any means, and a lot of their supplies aren’t provided. My father had to set up accounts which most of his regulars had to pay by installments. He wasn’t a fan of credit because it wasn’t promised, considering the average life expectancy here and on the field, but the Lords always paid in full and expected the best. Their orders are what mainly kept us afloat. Well, that, and there wasn’t much competition.”

“Does anyone own these?”

“The High Lord,” Emerie said incredulously, looking at Nesta in surprise that she did not know the fact. “This is a war camp. The Lords resign here but they have no claim besides their own estates which came with the titles. The Court’s way of appeasing them – give them some grounds to establish themselves which require staff to manage. Make them feel important, better than the rest of us,” she sneered.

If only it would be easy to revoke the titles of those rebelling – but it wouldn’t matter much. They had the command of loyal troops. Rhys bribed them for their loyalty. Without it, he wouldn’t have the reinforcements needed to ensure his presiding seat. He had to appease the Lords another way in the upcoming months, or else face certain mutiny in the form of a costly civil war.

“These roads, if you want to call them such,” Emerie grumbled with each painstaking step through ankle-deep snow, “the camp itself, the training grounds – that’s property of the High Lord – as are the men who sign themselves to service until their contracted term is completed. After that, they can retire, but that never seems to be case when money dries up, or they bleed out in battle.”

“And there’s nothing left to give to their kin,” Nesta filled in the blanks.

“Pretty much,” Emerie divulged bitterly.

Nesta’s own village had more commodities than this place. The only exports seemed to be working bodies meant to bleed out – mercenaries given meager wages really, with enough incentive and fewer prospects outside these parts of the mountains. That’s what kept them tethered but Nesta knew from experience one could only be unhappy for so long.

“We should invest here,” Nesta stated over dinner. She employed every tactic she could think of to throw him off guard. Her hair was down, her neckline slightly lower, and she made sure to greeted him with a kiss that would rattle his mind. “If Rhys won’t, we should. You’re the general. You have authority to warrant what the camp needs. There’s no one above you. All you need to do is give a command and see it through.”

“And what resources do you need allocated here?” he patiently replied. Curiosity lined his tone, and his eyes, too, as they drank her in.

“Jobs,” Nesta described, poking at the diced potatoes. “New ones with equal opportunity. I know we need a strong military presence but there are people who live here that deserve more choices that to be a soldier or a domestic. Emerie and I saw an abandoned post office today, and down the road was what looked like a tavern. This could be a thriving establishment with other mediums of revenue. Re-commission other parts of the camp, open new positions…” she filtered off, not sure what to make of his silence.  

“Might give us an edge over Ironcrest,” Cassian humored.

“I’m serious, Cass,” she pleaded.

“I know,” he soothed, extending his hand to place over hers.

“They could use the imports, and we can offer more exports than just bodies built for war,” she argued. “Fabrics, metals, produce, anything really… maybe entice a little friendly competition,” she shrugged.

Nothing was said yet and she began to feel skittish. Cassian was ruminating.

“To open new positions like clerks and carriers would be an opportunity for Fae to do something different with their lives. Instead of a camp, we could make this a community, and settle roots where they feel like they belong, which of course would curate a reason to protect it, rather than us forcing that feeling upon them, or making them reliant on measly wages from the Lords to provide a living… Expanding the camp’s infrastructure would inspire hope, and change, and promise for a better future! Opening new sectors could grant independence for some! How many can you imagine would jump at the opportunity to better their prospects without sacrificing their bodies? To ditch the Lords as tyrant employers and earn a direct wage from someone else? Or even invest in themselves, take a risk, and create their own revenue? To establish something their families can inherit, like Em did with her father’s shop?” she tried to convey without sounding like a broken record.

Cassian merely hiked a brow, intrigued, but saying nothing. Nesta didn’t know if she ought to be stumped that she wasn’t selling her point efficiently enough or to be infuriating it wasn’t striking a chord yet. Emerie and Nesta had talked about it at great lengths, salivating at the thought of females able to make their own wage and respected as independent beings.

A way to divert conversation of war onto better, greater prospects. It’d be more productive to focus on the heart of the camp and revitalize the community which maintained it. The tactic might work if they start within than fight against an already established encampment. Incentive over punishment. Simple as that. Replenishment, not reprimand.

“Think about what else could be produced! New restaurants, gathering spaces other than a fire pit in the blistering cold,” she described colorfully. “A lively main street with markets and fresh produce! Bookstores and bakeries – well, I’d love a bakery,” she grumbled. “Em, too, but the rest of you don’t like sweets the way we do… anyhow,” she raised her head to keep bravado.

“Or care centers! Not just the basic care instructed of soldiers to keep their guts inside, but actual, specialized healers – available to everyone, not just those under command,” Nesta sustained. “It could really benefit the females to have a ward of their own. Not everyone can access a Madja.”

Cassian stopped eating and simply stared, slow to swallow a bite.

“A school, too!” Nesta persisted, even more passionate. “It’s a reasonable exchange – we’ll give your children shelter, and education – in exchange for service, like running the postal office, or tending to the ill - a trade-off of benefits! You protect us, we provide for you – something akin to that! If you want to give them incentive to not rebel, give them something tangible they can trust. What better way to entice them than to give these fae something they never had before? They desire growth! They desire prosperity! Food on the table, a chance to escape poverty, and to… to…” she struggled to fill. Her hands waved aimlessly. “They don’t want to be stuck! Some have ambition and would happily put in the work to promote themselves! So that their children will have more opportunities than they did and so forth!”

“We’ll need to reallocate labor, and find resources to build these structures, and then more to repair the existing ones,” Cassian pointed out. He wasn’t dismissing the idea, but she also knew there were kinks she had to consider, too – and being practical minded, Cassian voiced what needed to be done. It dampened her mood slightly but not enough to diminish her hope.

“The Lords will resist it,” Nesta predicted, repeating Emerie’s doubt. “They rely too much on their serfs.”

“The possibility of trade outside the steppes is quite alluring,” Cassian surprisingly countered, projecting a different outcome. “Winter won’t allow much construction, but Rhys can put out contracts with steep pay to ensure these projects are taken up and completed when the snow thaws. If money is something the Lords covet, they’ll take whatever Rhys will throw their way.”

“What’s to say they won’t take it and run?” she dared to ask, recognizing there was plenty of flaws that could dismantle her and Emerie’s initial proposal. It’s not like she hadn’t discussed it in depth with the other Illyrian, who had her own stakes in the venture of expansion. Trade was her main priority, as was individual opportunity for growth. There ought to be as many imports as there were exports, and exports ought to be more diverse than simply bodies trained for combat.

“Because they’ll get paid not in full, and not up front, but in installments dependent on my satisfaction the project is done,” Cassian pitched. She perked up, excited to hear him contribute positively, rather than gentle let her down like she predicted. Emerie did say the plan was radical and likely not feasible with the current conditions. An uphill battle with only disappointment to meet the dreamer that Nesta became.

“I don’t believe in sloppy work, and neither does Devlon,” Cassian stated with a sense of promise. He had all but abandoned his food, solely fixed on Nesta. “If we approve of what’s done, they get their payment, but if we don’t see sufficient progress, they won’t get their compensation until we do, and what’s to say I won’t add an extra measurement of punishment for their incompetence? This is the military after all – we have expectations and little tolerance for insubordination,” he flashed a grin.    

It did little to quell her nerves as she mulled over the possible backfire. Nesta had to be realistic, too. If they were going to think this out thoroughly, she had to be practical minded, too, rather than feed into the dreamer mentality. She wouldn’t let herself get carried away. They had to implement a plan with few cracks as possible.

“It’s a risk,” she admitted with visibly dismay. “What if they don’t want the money? What if their spite against Rhys outweighs any incentive to revitalize this place? It’s not unfathomable to think they wouldn’t resort to insubordination at this point. Given how they feel, the Lords wouldn’t want to assist Rhys in gaining more grip over Illyria– and adding infrastructure here would benefit their High Lord more so than the ones here because it would threaten to cut their profits and undermine their own authority, too. They wouldn’t want to play a part in giving him more command. They want to be the ones running things, not step back as he asserts his own policies,” she prompted thought.  

“Which is why we’ll reward contracts to those we deem most capable, and though unsaid, Devlon would offer it first to those most loyal, and allow them the chance to earn promotion and prove their character. This could be a leadership opportunity for them to showcase their skills, and be rewarded accordingly,” Cassian amended, smiling in confidence. “If the other Lords want the same opportunity, they can ask, but they’ll have more to do to prove their worthiness. It’s a sliding scale,” he fashioned with a slope of the hand.

“I disagree. It should be equal opportunity,” Nesta countered. “If you already impose bias, those not considered in those talks will feel slighted, and all you’ve accomplished is grant these discontent Lords all the more vindication to act against Rhys. Those contracts should be offered without prejudice and paid the way you recommended. If they fail to meet your standards, you can always allocate the job to the next runner up. Reward by performance, not by allegiance. Don’t give them more cause to rebel if you establish a system already set against them,” Nesta spoke ardently.

This is a war-camp. Not a village, or a town, or a city, Rhys argued in his head. Nesta slept soundly at Cassian’s side as the General couldn’t quite catch rest. Too many questions plagued him.

I’m not asking you to take away from Velaris. I’m asking you to invest in your citizens! All of them! Nesta made a valid point tonight. This is an alternative way to alleviate some of the tension and show them your presence without force or bloodshed! Cassian bordered on begging. It was so logical, and the benefits were immense, but Rhys was too stubborn to see past his prejudice. His reservation aggravated Cassian terribly. There was no reason to it besides Rhys’ own bias. His coffers were spilling over but his mind was close, condemning the Illyrians to certain suffering because he could not look past his bigotry. Isn’t that a far better outcome than another costly war? You’re going to have to spend something, Rhys! You know this course of action is a solid choice if it means placating the Illyrians and generate more revenue for years to come.

It's not fool-proof, Rhys contested. Cassian groaned. The amount he fashioned was only a fraction of what it cost to run Velaris. He couldn’t make sense of Rhys’ uncharacteristic frugality. Who will oversee the operations?

Nesta and I will. As will Emerie and Devlon. What kind of fucking question is that? Cassian snapped back, irritated with the doubtful prodding.

And Nesta won’t squander those funds?

She’s a Lady, Cassian seethed. Her training required her to run a household. A war-camp would be well within her element to oversee, he pitched, and Emerie has ran her shop alongside her family. Both of them can handle books fine. They manage their shield maidens just as Devlon does the recruits. You have willing volunteers to make this happen. If you don’t want to show your support, I’ll fund it myself, but you should take the opportunity to better you reputation while you can.

I don’t feel comfortable with the expenditure while we’re at the cusp of war. There is no promise of this return you think will be generated. Am I to keep throwing money at the problem in vain?

Fine – let us prove it. Give Nesta her inheritance Tamlin bequeathed her. She has no idea what happened to it, but I have my suspicions, he warned ominously. She may have burned through her wages, according to Rhys, but Cassian knew she had been supplied a plethora of jewels and other valuables long before Rhys ever granted her the title as his emissary. Their whereabouts were unknown, and certainly not in her accounts. I’ll use my own fucking means to see this through. Mark my words, Rhys, you will regret this because you will not gain from this. Nesta won’t credit you and neither will I.

Would you rather them believe I abandoned them? Rhys balked. That’ll only sow more seeds of discontent. I’d advise you not to waste your salary on something so daunting and thankless.

I won’t lie on your behalf, Cassian concluded stiffly, knowing he was teetering a dangerous line, but he could not care enough when his own fury was being stoked by Rhys’ skepticism. At least we’re doing something. I’m not going to wait around for your permission.  

It took three days, but Cassian received correspondence. It wasn’t exactly the news he expected but pleasant one, nonetheless. It ought to have been addressed to Nesta, but her history implied Rhys’ letters would be destined for the fire. It was likely for the better any news meant for her would be safely translated through Cassian.

He delivered the parcel before dinner, excited but also shaking with trepidation. The news was promising but not idea – and would coax a different conversation altogether.

“It’s a bank statement,” she notified with suspicion. “This isn’t right. I didn’t have this sum before… Do I owe this all back?” she cried incredulously. “What kind of fucked up bill is this? I never occurred these kinds of costs in my life. Why is my sum positive and not negative? This ought to be an invoice if that’s the case!”

“No, no, no,” Cassian cut her off, eager to assuage her worry. His hands rested on her shoulders, leaning over to assess the amount. He hoped Rhys didn’t stiff her. Then again, Nesta was meticulous about her books, and her grudges, so if something was amiss, she’d likely say something, or at least he hoped she would. “That’s yours. That’s all yours. I may have… put some pressure on Rhys, and he managed to find the missing inheritance that you couldn’t account for after the war.”

“I thought they wasted it all,” she said sourly, glowering at the parchment.

“Is it all there?” he probed.

“For the most part,” she shrugged loosely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t theirs to spend, and I’m glad you got most of it bad,” he bit the emphasized part bitterly, reminding himself to question Rhys about the rest later.  “It’s rightfully yours to do as you please,” he confirmed. “These are yours to allocate as you wish,” he bid.

“Rhys isn’t going to put a single coin back here beyond the soldier’s stipends, is he?” she inquired quietly. Her mouth set in a frown.

“We’ll have to make do,” Cassian cast woefully low. “I have plenty set aside. I’ll fund the effort to replenish what we can. Barracks for proper shelter, a postal office to expand commerce, a general store to stock the troops and civilians alike, and establish a tavern. That’ll generate some revenue and appease the others. We have to start somewhere and develop along the way based on priority.”

“What about a medic station?”

“Do we have enough to staff it?” he poised.

“We can,” she confidently spoke, turning to face him with new resolve. “There are trained females who would rather dirty their hands with bandages and blood than someone’s laundry. That’s going to take up most of the cost to supply beds and treatment. We can split attention. I’ll focus on the med ward and the postal office. Those are essential. You can begin on proper barracks to ensure no one else freezes to death, as well as stock a general store to supply the soldiers at reasonable prices. They need the reserves without digging themselves to debt, or better, the military can compensate the cost of their service with adequate tools,” she gruffly poked his chest. “The tavern would be a nice commodity but not a priority unless someone else wants to manage it.”

“A lot of gossip can happen at a tavern. It’d be an good source of information. Drunken soldiers have loose lips,” Cassian argued. “We need other avenues to keep two steps ahead besides campfire talk and female gossip.”

“Is that an expense we can afford to shill out? Is that possible information we could procure from drunks,” she emphasized the unreliability factor of his proposal, “more important than providing resources and supplies to keep the residents here alive? That’s quite the… risk.”

A tavern wasn’t quite high up on her list to revitalize. It seemed counter conducive besides running up tabs and stupefying soldiers to near comas depending on their tolerance. None of it would go back to the community, unless she counted staff, and she hated to think of the abuse females would be subjected to behind the bar. Males already lacked discipline. With liquor in their veins, who knew what would stem from their uninhibited debauchery? This seemed to be a venture that benefited solely intelligence. A very expensive ruse. She didn’t ration it as a worthy cost to even humor.

She’d rather sponsor the construction of a dance hall than a saloon. That was a miracle to make considering most of the inhabitants didn’t indulge in such fancy. Too much work to be done, not enough to be happy about, and females wouldn’t endure the company of males more than absolutely necessary.

“They would see it as a reward, and not question our real intentions,” Cassian appealed. “Azriel agrees. I ran it by him this morning. Don’t worry – he was hesitant at first – but I hope I can convince you easier than it took to compel him.”

“Is Azriel eager to fund that venture?” Nesta questioned, crossing her arms.

“It’s a team effort, and we’ll divide evenly.” Cassian bore a grin as he pitched. “We could do a lot of good here, Nes.” He rubbed her arms soothingly.

“I know we can,” she took one of his hands to entangle their fingers. “Okay, fine, I’ll turn the cheek on the extra expenditure, but draw up a plan. You know me enough to acknowledge we can’t go into this blind. Everything needs to be accounted for.”

He looked shocked. “You haven’t?” a grin swiftly made itself home on his charming face. He cupped her cheeks and brought his nose down to nudge her own. “With all this scheming, and plotting, and ideas, I would have bet you beat me to it.”

He kissed her once, twice, a third for same measure to highlight how much he believed in her brilliance. His hand wove around her neck, gathering a scoop of hair, and another drifted down to her hip, wondering if she’d allow him to hike her leg up.

“A Tavern only, okay? So help I discover a brothel upstairs…” she whispered, pulling away a breath only to murmur, “and you make a visit behind my back…” she amended after interrupted the stream with a kiss.

Cassian felt a poke and realized Nesta had slipped a sharp edge between them. The knife was hard to miss. His clever mate had stealthily slipped from the counter, and currently pressed into his belly. She pulled it back only to lower it further, tapping it precariously close to his crotch. “I’ll cut your dick off.”

“I would expect nothing less,” he praised, taking the handle out of her grip, and tossing it hard enough to stab into the wood of the wall. She fixated on the suspended utensil in awe.

“When can I learn how to do that?” she asked, newly engaged. If he knew knife throwing had her this fascinated, he’d show off his skills sooner.

“Later,” he hoarsely replied, nipping at her bottom lip, and pulling Nesta into a searing kiss to rival the one he was met with at the door. They had unfinished business he intended to see through.

[subconsciousmysteries]

@kendrixtermina No fucking way Elon Musk is a 7. just because he is innovative and famous, doesn’t equal 7 core. 5s get their innovativeness from the 7 line. Are you aware of the 5 -> 7 line at all? That’s also where 5s get their memey jokerness from. It doesn’t make them 7 cores if they meme in the limelight a bit like Musk does.

Imo it’s very obvious that Musk moves to 7 and trolls the mainstream but the majority of his life is spent in the core 5 area of tech. He has a lifelong focus on his field that no core 7 has. The dude has a PHD and he engineered his early tech himself. 7s lack the focus to be good coders, straight up. They flip flop from one area of focus to another and go wandering around and usually don’t run tech companies because they simply lack the narrowed intellectual focus that is required to run such a company. Maturing 5s who have embraced their 7 line enough to network and see the bigger picture (but are still very much 5s with the hyper-focus ability this entails) are the most common tech company leaders. Source: I work in tech companies and helped erect some.

Most dudes in tech are 5s. You’re right that they’re usually 3 fixes and there’s 3s in the mix too. yes #notall tech dudes are 5s, but the stereotype comes from somewhere. I could use your “he was born wealthy” to argue that Elon IS a 5… he didn’t have to fight very hard to be in the limelight when he has that much money, as no 5 would fight to be in the limelight. Elon just IS in the limelight and he’s making the best of it, also clearly using it to get more profits for his company as 5s do. Avarice.

Many 5s, especially 5w6 which is what Musk and probably Zuck are, fixate on amassing financial resources. They see money as the key to finding the Insight that 5s are searching for. 3 fix desire for status and success plays a role in this… but it can indeed be pure 5 to fixate on amassing resources and wealth, ESPECIALLY in the field of seeking new tech.

Also Musk is a 3 fix so you can expect a 5 with a 3 fix to put himself in the limelight a bit.

Zuckerberg is a 359 variant no matter how you look at it. I don’t know enough about him to decide if he’s 9 or 5. They are a bitch to tell apart as well so I’d have to study him hard and I can’t be bothered.

Mitski could be a 6w5 instead of a 5. I still lean towards 5 for her but am open to 6w5. I don’t think 5s are completely indifferent to social especially if they are a social subtype. Anyone in the whole enneagram can be self conscious about a camera being on them at the wrong time… there are 1039494939 possible motives for this. I’ve studied Mitski’s music and it’s full of stuff about commitment issues, fearing showing her inner world of thoughts to people she’s being intimate with, being physically but not mentally intimate, throwing herself at sex as like an experimental thing while feeling detached, which I’ve seen is very common for 5s. It could be 6 yeah. But she seems like a 5w4 521 to me. She has a bit of the 4 emphasis on feeling weird and outcasted, if you read her interviews and how she fears not being loved. But she also has heaps of the 2 confidence in throwing herself at relationships, exalts herself above the beloved as their savior, and fixates on solving their issues (see: Washing Machine Heart, I Bet On Losing Dogs). If you’re seeing superego in her it probably comes from her 2 and 1 fix…

I don’t see any of the 6 -> 3 competitiveness, punkness, aggressively trying to hide her vulnerability that I see in people like Eminem and Avril Lavigne and possibly Gerard Way (I think these are real 6s. Can’t tell if Gerard is 6 or 4 but defs 6 fix at least).

A lot of what you’re saying about 5 being extreme weirdos a) makes no sense because Mitski and Musk ARE weirdos to a lot of people, maybe just not to you, and b) is true only of 54 combos. The 5s you’ve disputed being 5s are not 54s so that’s probably why you don’t relate to them or see them as weirdo enough. Even so, I’ve met 54s who aren’t outcasted weirdos at all… they have loads of friends and come off extremely normal when you talk to them albeit a bit engrossed in their niche interests (but again, who isn’t?). the common thread between 54s is that they all perceive themselves to be the ugly exiled weirdo misfit in the corner even if it’s not true.

Some head triad typings

5s :

Elon Musk : a basement dweller who made it out, legendary desintegration into 7 recently (531 so/sp)

Mark Zuckerberg : of course had to frame the creation of Facebook under universal reasons like anyone would to market his company ("I created Facebook to connect people"), but at its core social media is a tool to see without being seen (5 thing) and acquire private data about people (also 5 thing?), we were connecting well with just the phones before this masquerade... The Social Network is actually an accurate representation (539 so/sp)

Meryl Streep : Harder to see than the others but yes... sx/so 5

Albert Einstein : e5 icon. Might make a post explaining this

Mitski probably

7s :

Grimes : obvious if you watch any interview of her, she oozes manic pixie dream girl energy (sx/so)

Not Steve Jobs (he's an 853)

I'll keep updating this one

[carters-coffee]

False Gift

Word Count: 1089

Warnings: minor/brief mention of blood and animal death

Subject Name: Alcina Dimitrescu

She was a beautiful creature of elegant stature. Born into nobility and wealth, she conducted herself with a grace that made her seem startlingly out of place in the small village tucked away in the mountains. A ray of light in the dusk, bright and charismatic, always sporting a smile that belied the turmoil within. The loneliness she had endured. 

She had been incredibly sheltered as a child. If her societal status wasn't enough to quash common play with other children, her condition certainly was. A curse of the blood, her father had called it. Others in the family had it. Cuts and scrapes didn't cease their flowing, bruises took far too long to heal. One accident would be all it took to drain her body dry. Of course little Alcina had to be protected. Locked away from danger. From the world.

Make no mistake, it was a rich and favorable life she lived. She had a good relationship with her parents and the maids. She was taught proper etiquette and how to conduct herself, as all ladies must learn. She read and wrote and painted and learned to play piano. Always enriched. Always cared for. She would grow into a fine woman.

Yet when she sat in her room on that lavish window seat, looking out to the beautiful spring day, she could feel a cold creeping in, wrapping its gnarled claws around her heart.

Cadou Affinity: Most favorable

Stoic. Prideful. These were the words that would come to mind when one watches the sophisticated woman perched on the cracked oak examination table, the epitome of poise as Mother Miranda approached her with that wicked needle. 

Alcina was by no means large in stature; in fact she was shorter than The Mother, but her straight shoulders and bright eyes boasted of great importance. One could not see her eyes only shone from the anxiety that twisted in her chest. Couldn't feel what she felt when she tried to swallow and found her throat was dry as cotton.

Brain Functions: Normal

She had seen the effect the Cadou had on Mother Miranda's… peons. The way they had lost themselves, their humanity. The ravenous beasts they had become. Mother Miranda promised she wouldn't share their fate. She was special.

She couldn't bring herself to watch the gleam of metal disappear beneath her skin, so she looked to Her Mother for reassurance. The cold still clutched at her heart, but this would make things better, right? This would fix everything. Mother's gift would free her of the blood curse. She would be important.

Regeneration rate is incredibly fast. The subject can heal any external wound within seconds, and grow her nails into claws in mere moments. Rapid regeneration also means an increased body size.

Pain ripped through her like hellfire as muscles grew and stretched far faster than humanly possible. The agony made her want to claw her way out of her own body, to scream or thrash or anything that would make it go away, but she didn't have the energy. All she could do was curl in her bed, seeking comfort in the fetal position as she rode out the storm that ravaged her insides. Cries of pain echoing through the halls subdued to exhausted whimpers as the hours ticked by.

Like all great storms, it eventually passed. Like all great storms, the damage lasted long after the wind and rain ceased. 

Flawless skin was now marred by stretch marks from the sudden growth- jagged streaks on arms and thighs and breasts.

The great castle Mother Miranda had bestowed upon her was suddenly far too small. She found she had to duck simply to pass through doorways, and she wasn't used to the cramped quarters, often painfully hitting the corners of desks, or filling the hall with the deafening sound of shattering glass as she knocked over a vase.

Her clothes, obviously, no longer fit her. Of course Mother Miranda had new dresses tailored right away, but even resized, they didn't fit the same. Where once supple curves were gently sculpted by fabric, now bulging muscles were strained by the seams.

Alcina thought of her Mother, her true Mother, and the lectures she had to sit through as a child on being a proper lady. A proper lady is delicate. A proper lady is feminine. A proper lady is soft. Ladies conduct themselves with grace and flow like a flower in the wind.

She didn't feel very lady-like when she gathered all her old clothes and threw them into the fire, the light of the flames reflected in her eyes. Flickers of gold within gold.

Note: Due to hereditary blood disease the subject must ingest human flesh and blood on a regular basis to maintain regeneration properties.

I suspect that if the subject's regeneration is not properly balanced then she may mutate uncontrollably.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. She had always been a gentle soul. One of her most vivid memories as a child was the meltdown she'd had when her father came back from a hunt with a magnificent red stag. Much to her father's frustration, she refused to eat any meal made with the beast's meat. Try as she might, she could not banish the image of its cold glazed eyes staring blankly ahead, the steady drip of dark blood from the wound in it's chest.

Now, the metallic aroma emanating from the gilded chalice made her gag. How could she possibly drink it, knowing it came from one of her own kind? Someone's life blood swirled in this chalice, someone who once had a love and family and interests and quirks. A real person. A person like her.

But her body did not accept her probity. The Cadou pulsing through her blood cared not for morals or guilt. It cared only for flesh.

So hellfire ripped through her body once again, worse than ever before. Muscles tore and bones rearranged and anguished cries fell from her lips while tears of crystal fell from her eyes.

Her body was not her own anymore. Or perhaps it was more her own than it had ever been. Was this what she was now? A monster? The cold no longer clawed at her heart… It had spread in tendrils beyond the confines of her ribs, like fungus.

Like mold.

Only Mother Miranda would see her in this form. The disappointment in her eyes was almost too much to bear.

An unfit vessel for Eva

My Ao3

[thearchvillain]

of horsefairs and maidens. part 2

nikolai lantsov x reader

link to part 1

summary: The moonless, warm summer night has stretched itself across Caryeva and the duke’s estate where a grand dinner is held in the gardens, in honour of both the horse fair and the princes’ visitation. Nikolai has found himself sat across the table from his brother and both the girl with the broken horse and her father, restrained to only occasional glances and the agitation that simmers beneath his skin, amplifying every time he catches her eyes. It’s all he can do to remain in his seat, even as they leave for the evening at Razumov’s, even as the night drags on - at least until the late hours of the night, too late for sensible decisions.

Nikolai smirked at her, as if to alleviate the seriousness of her warning, "Do you take me for anything less than a gentleman? And here I was thinking I had you charmed Irina, you break my heart. We were just talking."

But Irina didn't look concerned, only amusement lined her features as she sipped her drink, and a bit of motherly sympathy, "Oh my dear prince, you have us all smitten, but it's not her I'm worried about.", she twisted in her seat, to call for a waiter, and said over her shoulder, "And hasn't your mother taught you - nothing's quite as dangerous as talking to a girl like her."

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of alcohol

A/N: well, apparently, this will not be a two parter... i’d claim i was shocked if i wasn’t used to myself going overboard the moment i get hooked on writing the characters ._. i’ve got part 3 down on the paper already (or a word document, but paper sounds more romantic) and it’s 100% focused on their interaction. in this one i really wanted to focus on building up the tension so there’s a lot of Nikolai’s thoughts and frustrations in here, glances cast and warnings given, the whole shebang  i really hope you like it, even if it’s kinda lacking in direct interaction for the sake of angst, and once again i want to thank everyone who commented and was so sweet and kind i had no other choice than to rush back excitedly and write my heart out <3 you’re the best! 

The dinner was an intricate display of wealth, as grand and carefully arranged as the jewels of a vain woman. One without an ounce of style anyway. The long tables were laden with complicated food, even the ones away from the main table that was orbited by the wealthy, to show off the generosity of the host. He'd even heard his brother say, as a compliment no less, that it seemed even the dogs here ate well. Clearly, he'd wanted to say, since you're here with your plate filled to the brim, brother. 

Now the porcelain plate sat before him, the food half-eaten and the glass of finest red wine all finished, as he listened to the war stories offered up to him by an old man with a hefty silver-streaked beard and heftier rosy cheeks, coloured by what must have been a fourth glass of wine. Nikolai would pop into the conversation here and there, if only to show he was paying attention, though he knew well enough that people never really wanted to listen, only to be heard.

"Tell me about your daughter - Alyona, is it?" 

The man reeled for a moment, his moustache shifting as he tried to remain dignified while choking on a sip of wine, as dignified as a startled walrus anyway. "You know of my daughter, your highness? Irina--", he turned to his wife at this, near breathless, "Did you hear that? He asked about Alyona!" 

The old lady had the common sense not to egg him on too much, only smile and nod as if she knew matching his excitement would mean a definitive death by boredom for Nikolai. And he was thankful for that.

But to be fair, Nikolai hadn't really known of Alyona, only heard her name from the girl with the broken horse when she passed by him in between meal courses, stopping only to cast a glance towards the old general and say, "Ask him about his daughter, Alyona - Saints forbid you ever require it, but he'll raise an entire army for you just for that little bit of kindness. He's very fond of her." 

"Is she pretty?", he didn't want to seem like a liar if that was what he complimented the daughter on instead of her smarts, or talent for music. 

The girl had raised an eyebrow, then looked back at him, "Does it matter? Fathers like him always think their girls are the prettiest. They're not wrong."

He'd wanted to stop her then, to ask her about the general's wife, or his dog, or anything really - and it would've been as easy as reaching out to take her wrist in his hand, had she not slipped back into the crowd and disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared by his side. 

Now he took his glass of wine, filled once again by one of the waiters, and held that instead, his eyes wandering across the table to where his brother sat, red-cheeked and rowdy. She was sat next to him, straight-backed and so still Nikolai thought she might have been a vision or a sculpture wrought in alabaster had the light evening wind not stirred the sheer silk of her gown and made it all come alive. It fell in rich waves off her shoulders, plentiful, but not plentiful enough to hide the gentle slope of her neck where it dipped to her chest, interrupted only by a fine necklace of tiny emeralds, or the wrists that glided through the motions as she picked at the food. 

The wine had made him too unwilling to look away, and he'd nearly caught his brother's eyes over the rim of his glass, so now he had to drag his gaze back to the general, who was near breathless talking about Alyona's adventures with the pony he bought for her. 

"...and I told Irina, no man of sound mind would let his little girl on that beast."

The beast being a pony, Nikolai supposed. 

"Did you think she would just pet it? It's not a cat.", this was the wife, sounding tired in a way only a woman who'd heard this story a million times and still thought it stupid, could. 

"You should've at least let me call Orlov's girl, I swear that creature was born on the damn horse! That form! We could've used her in the cavalry!"

"That poor thing's got enough on her mind with a father like that, and for Saint's sake stop recruiting people at dinner parties."

This time Nikolai interrupted, however riveting this exchange was, "The Orlov's girl?" 

Irina cast him a surprised glance, "Yes, that pretty thing with your highness' brother? I thought you met her." 

Now Nikolai had an actual excuse to look her away, and he wasn't about to throw it away. This time, she had her hands folded in her lap and Vasily at her ear speaking something delightfully stupid, no doubt. Nikolai watched her drag her teeth across her lower lip, still so mesmerized by the way it popped back into place that he was near startled when her eyes slipped straight to him. 

She did not smile. But maybe that was for the better because even from across the table he could see the muscles in her cheek twitch, as if she was dragging the corners of her lips down with the sheer force of will, not quite as restrained as she'd hoped to be. He realised she was trying not to smile, and somehow that made his mind reel more than any unbridled grin a girl at this table could've offered him. She downcast her eyes, lashes brushing against her cheek as she busied herself with the bracelet on her wrist, and Nikolai sipped his wine to drive away the urge to keep staring, to keep trying to provoke her until she could not hold that smirk back.

But then Vasily brushed the stray lock of her hair back and her features stilled as if all that pertness had been drained from them instantly, a muscle played in her jaw before she lifted her eyes and smiled prettily. Not at Nikolai, though. He saw an older man sitting to her left tap her hand like one would when a dog's performed a trick well, and Nikolai felt his muscles tense. Vasily beamed, Nikolai gripped his glass, her father looked at her like she was his golden ticket. 

"A vile man.", Irina said over her glass. 

Nikolai hadn't noticed, but the general was now busy entertaining the waiter with questions about the wine, and only his wife was fully present, the lines of her face arranged into a look of dignified distaste. She was speaking to Nikolai.

"Count Orlov?" 

"He treats that poor girl like property.", her upper lip curled, "And unfortunately the Saints haven't given her a bad temper, so she listens." 

Nikolai leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine as he followed Irina's gaze to his brother, drunk on wine and forced smiles from a pretty girl, "I don't think she's as helpless as you paint it."

"Oh, she's not. She's playing them both like a fiddle. I'm just saying, at her age, I would've wreaked havoc by that point.", she shrugged, "I'm not a subtle woman, you see."

"Ha!", the general was joining the conversation once again, now that he'd gotten his wine, "Listen to what she tells you! She's a wild animal, that one!" 

"Darling. Not in front of a prince." 

"What?", to his credit, he did look genuinely confused, "His highness doesn't mind, do you? I'm just saying my wife's always been a force of nature, no shame in that! She's a scary woman, it's a good thing to have by your side." 

Nikolai did not, indeed, mind at all. He was just trying not to choke on the wine as laughter bubbled up from his chest, especially when Irina raised an eyebrow at her husband, and he could see her attempting not to grin at that strange assemble of compliments. Their bickering was felt like a light summer breeze, a welcome reprieve from the tension he could feel simmering in the air, across the table.

"It's the wine.", she turned her gaze to Nikolai, still smirking, "Don't mind him."

"Ha! And what explanation do you have for that sharp tongue?" 

"I married an idiot and was forced to evolve because of it." 

"Please, when I first mustered up the courage to ask her for a dance--", this was directed at Nikolai as the large man shifted in his seat, "And mind you, I've been less afraid for my life on the battlefield than in front of that woman! You know what she told me? She told me to break a leg and see if that helps with my coordination.", he leaned to the side to cast his wife a look over Nikolai, "You've always had that sharp tongue on you, my love." 

Nikolai raised an eyebrow at her, "Was he that bad?"

Beaming because he didn't immediately sympathise with her husband, Irina shrugged in feigned disdain, "No, he was quite handsome and good on the floor, still is. You just can't let them forget how lucky they are to even have you looking in their direction."

"What can I say, my girl knows her business! I fell for it, hook, line and sinker."

Nikolai was the one charmed, for once, but his eyes still strayed to the other side of the table, even as the old couple continued lovingly bickering beside him. Vasily was up and about, and the girl and her father were following close behind, the valet running around guiding them towards a carriage that was waiting on the other side of the fence. 

"Where are they going?", he schooled his voice into one of mild disinterest, fit of a prince not particularly invested in his brother's dalliances. Beneath it all though, he felt dangerous, like he was being suspended on the edge of getting up and following - his brother was a nasty, distasteful creature on good days, and this wasn't even one of those. 

"Mister Razumov's.", Irina answered, because the general was now waving wildly demanding another piece of those little lemon cakes, "New money. Wild parties. Wilder vices. Gambling and alcohol are galore. They'll come to invite you too." 

He did not doubt that - even his brother's title had nothing on Nikolai's charm or the exclusivity of having him there on the rare occasion that he was home instead of on the front. It still did little to placate him as he watched them climb into the carriage, his brother's slimy hand holding hers as he helped up the steps, her hair tossed wildly across her bare back as she turned one last time to cast a glance Nikolai's way. He held her eyes for a moment, both their faces still as stone, then watched her disappear behind carriage's curtains as he sipped his wine, wondering wildly if he should even go. 

What good would it do? Her father would be there, watching, and there was no money to be made with a prince that had an interest only in books and weapons, no matter how charming he was. He cleared his throat and finished the glass. He'd just get her in trouble - it wasn't like Nikolai himself was particularly known as a voice of reason, he preferred to stick to an assemble of charming qualities, like ill-advised impulses and regret.

"You could stay, you know?", this was Irina again, sounding less like a wild animal her husband had described, and more like a mother. At least what Nikolai imagined mothers sounded like. Sympathetic. 

"Sorry?"

"Do you think I'll get this big boulder to move and go home anytime soon?", she nodded towards her husband, then smiled, "Some of us stay here instead of going to Razumov's, there's music and food and wine, good company too. If your highness hasn't been scared away by our marital displays."

"Please, call me Nikolai.", his usual glib smirk had slipped back onto his lips, as easy as a mask, "And no, I must admit, I'm quite charmed by the displays. Tell me, Irina, where does one get one of those?" 

She didn't look quite convinced, but she smiled still, "You stumble upon it, by Saint's will, and then you can't look away. The lucky ones, anyway.", she cleared her throat, "Stay, it would be quite the honour." 

"All mine. Your husband's a great general. And the royalty never gets enough servings from sharp tongues anyway."

"My husband's a fool.”, she shrugged lightly, “But I make up for it in the charms department." 

"I heard that woman!", there was no ire in general’s voice, and it was merely a passing comment as he waved at the poor waiter again, "Would one of you penguins like to explain why the prince's glass is empty?" 

Nikolai hadn't wondered about that, but now that it was brought up he felt like another glass and a distinct lack of his brother might be of help, "Why do you assume I won't go?" 

"Because you've been staring at that girl all night."

Nikolai's head snapped from the waiter back to Irina, and he caught the traces of a grin in the corners of her lips as she sipped her wine. Had he been that obvious? He didn't think so, but the wine and conversation might have made him sloppy - it was one thing to avoid provoking Vasily into being even creepier due to jealousy, another to avoid someone like Irina.

"Don't be so shocked young prince, that big buffoon used to look at me like that, once. I'd spot it anywhere, like a good game in the forest. She could barely stop smirking. It's quite painful, you know, not to smile when you catch someone looking at you like that. I must admit, she’s quite adept."

Nikolai considered telling her that big buffoon certainly still did look at her like that, but he was assuming she already knew that. She didn't look like a woman who'd settle for anything less. "Well, to be fair, I've been told I am quite dashing. She can't really be blamed." 

This made her laugh, in the way experienced older people do when they're charmed by some youngling's naivete, "Tell her that and see what comes back at you."

"I've already tried, it wasn't pretty."

Irina leaned in, conspirational, "That's why it's fun. My husband told you already. Hook, line and sinker. The girl knows how it's done.", then she leaned back, more serious, "It's why I'd stay away if I were you. We have plenty of food, wine and girls for you here. You're all the rage." 

Nikolai smirked at her, as if to alleviate the seriousness of her warning, "Do you take me for anything less than a gentleman? And here I was thinking I had you charmed Irina, you break my heart. We were just talking."

But Irina didn't look concerned, only amusement lined her features as she sipped her drink, and a bit of motherly sympathy, "Oh my dear prince, you have us all smitten, but it's not her I'm worried about.", she twisted in her seat, to call for a waiter, and said over her shoulder, "And hasn't your mother taught you - nothing's quite as dangerous as talking to a girl like her." 

***

The night dragged on, or perhaps dragged wasn't exactly the right word. The general had a way of livening up the place even as the people cleared, some to go to Razumov's, others to go to sleep in their beds. The brave ones that stayed - and there were quite a few after he did some rounds about the tables - were unable to leave because he'd managed to somehow get more food, more alcohol and more musicians, and no one of sound mind would leave this wild story he'd spun around them. They laughed and spoke of war and danced under the clear night sky, the air tinted with the scent of burning wood and meat and laughter. 

Nikolai had nearly forgotten, how much heart there was in nights like these, how much he loved the people and the songs and this country. He himself had danced and laughed and drank, and was now sitting on a chair rocking himself precariously on two of its legs, wrapped in that safety blanket of stupor that came with late hours of the night, or early hours of the morning, watching the general and his wife swirl in front of the musicians. 

He wondered how they were still up and going, much less dancing, though he could guess that alcohol, and a lot of it, had something to do with it. And alcohol, and a lot of it, had something to do with no one noticing a figure sitting upright on a horse somewhere out behind the fence, in the deep darkness of a moonless night. The silks shifted around the figure, carried by the breeze, like something out of Tolya's stories of spectres and hallucinations haunting the fallen battlefields. Nikolai thought wildly that there must be one about a ghost-girl on a horse, haunting the minds of men in moonless nights, with silks made out of moonlight and cruel elegance draped across her shoulders. Or something like that. 

Nikolai let his chair hit the ground and was up before the girl who'd been talking to him had even managed to look confused by his sudden change in mien. He drained his glass before putting it down on the table with a bit too much force and slid through the crowd that had gathered by the band. 

Tolya’s story would have probably been meant as a warning to young men not to head towards those strange apparitions, or something equally ominous, but Nikolai never put much stock in the stories anyway, especially not ones made up by his drunken mind as he followed after her into the darkness. She looked improbable, sitting tall on that horse waiting for him, but not impossible. And that was good enough for him. 

tags: @mentally-in-northern-italy 

please feel free to comment or hit me up in the DMs (even if you just want to talk because honey i’m THERE for it) if you’d like to be tagged when the next part comes out! 

[itsclydebitches]

re: that ask you posted a couple days ago about the male and female representation in RWBY, part of what makes RWBY's whole 'girl power' thing ring exceptionally hollow to me is the fact that there are like... no women in positions of real power in remnant. like at all. except the big bad.

winter is second in command to james. glynda is second in command to ozpin. all of the headmasters are men (for no discernible reason, imo; why theodore and not dorothea?). the leader of the ace ops was a white man (and then winter seemed to take over clover's position instead of either of the women of color on the team, and she was still second to james). RWBY is an all girl team, but JNPR was led by a boy despite a girl arguably being far more qualified (pyrrha). the happy huntresses are all women, and robyn had no real power to speak of--she didn't even manage to win the election, because jacques rigged it, and then the council ceased to matter. there was one (1) woman on the council, but she was so inconsequential that i can't even remember her name. (i suppose we're lucky it was the guy and not her who james shot lol) jacques controls the SDC instead of willow, even though he's not even a schnee by blood and actually married into the family for power. (and we don't even know how he got it over his wife.)

and then there's the white fang, which ghira led and not kali--and it's ghira who leads menagerie itself, while kali seems to be a housewife. sienna had five minutes of screentime before being brutally killed and her position assumed by adam, a man. cordovin is basically a one off lackey we haven't even thought about before or since. neo was second to roman. you have cinder, sure, who is a second but to salem, a woman, and raven as the leader of the branwen tribe--but what does it really say about your 'girl power' narrative when the only women with genuine systemic power in your world are villains or antagonists with massive bodycounts??

atla has the same sort of problem--a couple great female characters, but all the leadership positions are men (except the kyoshi warriors, an all girls group, and even then the leader of their island is an old man) and the one female mentor figure also turns out to be evil--but it at least has some great writing to help overlook that fact, and it came out in the mid-00's and so has some sort of excuse of being a product of its time. but rwby didn't even start until 2013 and it's still going and still making these kinds of decisions well into 2021.

where is this supposed girl power, exactly? am i really supposed to overlook the very patriarchal worldbuilding just because the title characters are girls?

That's an excellent summary of the situation, anon, and as with so much in RWBY, it comes down to the full context. Any one of these examples isn't necessarily going to mean much on its own. It's when you look at the pattern that you can start making a case for those conclusions: Why is the show marketed on "girl power" set in a world where men hold the vast majority of that power? And, more importantly, why is that setup not the point? We could easily have a story where that lopsided gender dynamic is the problem that the girls are looking to fix, but... that story doesn't exist. Like the problems discussed with Jaune, the supposed point here exists only on the surface. Dig just the tinniest bit — the above — and you hit on a lot of structural problems with this "girl power" world.

To add just a few details to what you've already said:

Salem indeed has power, but she's never allowed to fully use it. Each volume the frustration with this grows as Salem accumulates more abilities and then just sits on them. From literally hiding out for a thousand years to worries that she won't use the Staff in Volumes 9-10, Salem really isn't allowed to be the threat she's presented as on the surface. And yes, this is absolutely due in part to the "She's too OP and the writers don't know how to let her be that powerful while still having the heroes win" issue, but again, context. That problem doesn't exclude others occurring simultaneously.

Same double explanation with Summer. Yes, dead moms are an incredibly common trauma to dump on a protagonist, but it still left Yang and Ruby with Tai as their primary influence. And Qrow. The uncle becomes the extended family influence while Raven is the absent one/eventual antagonist. It's personal power as opposed to political power, but Tai, Qrow, Ozpin, formerly James... most of the mentors are men. Maria, a key exception, has been ignored in that regard. The story announced that she was Qrow's inspiration, setup her being Ruby's new mentor, and then... nothing. Nothing has come of that. She disappeared for a volume and then went off to Amity and was literally forgotten by the story when evacuating everyone was the finale's whole point.

Like that Endgame moment I mentioned, the Happy Huntresses feel a little too forced to me. Yes, it's the same basic idea as in ATLA, but ATLA, as you say, has a lot more going for it. The Happy Huntresses feel... on the nose? Idk exactly how to explain it. Like, "Here they are! Another team of all women! Isn't this how progressive storytelling works? Just ignore how this is a one-off team of minor characters compared to the world building issues discussed above." And if you're not paying attention, you miss just how insignificant they are, with a side of Robyn being, well, Robyn. The Kyoshi Warriors, at least, are based off of Kyoshi. A woman avatar who is a significant part of their history. That is, presumably, why they're an all women warrior group (but who notably still teach Sokka). The Happy Huntresses are all huntresses because...? There's no reason except that meta "We want to look progressive" explanation. Just like having all the women superheroes team up for a hot second so people get excited and ignore the representation problems across, what? 21 films? Don't get me wrong, I love that May is among the Happy Huntresses. I think including her in the explicitly all-women group was one of the better things RWBY has done in a long time, but the rest is still a mess.

RWBY is arguably about these smaller groups as opposed to systematic power (despite the writers trying to work that in with things like the White Fang and the election. Not to mention the implication that everything in Atlas is fine now that evil Ironwood has died and taken the symbol of wealth (the city) with him. We saw a human holding hands with a faunus after all. Racism and corruption solved, I guess.) So yes, our group is dominated by women... but Whitley is the one saving Nora, helping to defeat the Hound (plus Willow), thinking of the airships, and providing the blueprints they need to escape. Salem is our Big Bad, except Ironwood is the one the volume focuses on. Ruby is our leader, but Jaune is the one leading the group into the whale and getting praised for how heroic he is. Ren does more to shake things up, even if he's painted as the one in the wrong. Oscar gets to confront Salem and destroys the whale threat. Ozpin provides the information they need to evacuate. Meanwhile, when the girls do things in Volume 8 it's almost always followed by a long-stint of passiveness. Nora opens the door so she can be unconscious for most of the volume. Penny keeps Amity up so she can also be unconscious for a good chunk of time. Ruby sends her message and then sits in a mansion. Blake fights so she can tearfully beg Ruby to save her. Weiss, as said, takes a backseat to Whitley (and Klein). They forward the plot, absolutely, but comparatively it doesn't feel like enough.

It's that pattern then, no one specific example. More and more the personal power, not just the systematic power already built into Remnant, seems to be coming from the men. Not all the time, but enough that scenes like the tea drinking moment feel like a part of a much larger problem. Pietro taking control, Watts hacking, and Ambrosius literally remaking her when Penny is supposed to already be in control of herself and her fate. Winter being presented as the active mentor to Weiss, only to turn around and claim that Ironwood was actually responsible for everything. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and May straight up commenting on how awful things are out there while Yang, Jaune, Ren, and Oscar lead the charge against Salem — with the latter three doing the most to forward that mission (no fear, semblance, cane). As others have only half-joked, Yang's supposedly badass moment was bringing up a mother she's ignored for six volumes and briefly blowing up the immortal woman for a couple of seconds (with Ironwood's bombs). Even Marrow is arguably the most significant Ace Op after Clover. Vine isn't actually a character, Elm slightly less so, Harriet is there to go crazy and try to drop a bomb (notably before admitting to never-before-existed feelings for Clover), but Marrow? He's the one who breaks out. Who is meant to heroically stand up against Ironwood. Who comments on how awful it is that teenagers are fighting and, regardless of how messed up the moral messages are, is supposedly pushing for active change while all the women in his group, including Winter, insist on maintaining the status quo. Look at all these choices as a whole, it makes throwaway worldbuilding choices like "All the Maidens are women" feel pretty hollow. Why does it matter if Amber is a Maiden if she dies in a flashback so Ozpin can struggle to pass on the power? If Pyrrha dies before becoming one so Jaune can angst about it? If Raven is one and then disappears from the story entirely? If Winter has enough power to break Ironwood's aura, but supposedly had no power throughout every other choice she made getting here? If Penny is one, but is continually controlled by men and then asks another man to help her die? It's just really unconvincing, once you look past the surface excitement of a woman looking cool with magic powers.

When you do consider the whole of the story — both in terms of our world building and who is forwarding the plot in the latter volumes, getting the emotional focus, being proactive, etc. — there are a lot of problems that undermine the presumed message RT wants to write. They say, "girl power" by marketing RWBY with these four women, but too many of the storytelling decisions thoroughly undermine that, revealing what's likely a deeply ingrained, subconscious bias.

[chibimyumi]

Redesign Prompt RESULTS!

Alright, thank you everyone who has voted, the results are now in! Overwhelmingly our winner is Ranmao 🐈!

First of all, I need to insert a few caveats here. Unlike with Victorian fashion, I do not have years and years of studying of Qing dynasty-fashion behind me. So whatever results I show here are the product of a fortnight of reading up and meticulous studying of contemporary photographs. a.k.a. I am merely scraping the surface here. But! I do promise that everything shown here is done to the best of my ability to be responsible as a content provider.

Now without further ado, let us dive into Ranmao’s current design, the blatantly obvious inaccuracies, and how I propose to redes...ign... her outfit while keeping the original intact as much.... as possible????  Heck, this is not even worthy of being called a ‘redesign’, this is straight up designing from scratch!

Hair

Let us start with her bangs. Her bangs are in fact surprisingly accurate, as late Qing dynasty women would wear their bangs in a variety of Bettie bangs trimmed well above the eyebrows. Having sides of the bangs growing longer framing the face was usual too, though they would be cut slightly thicker than Ranmao’s. Though, we don’t know how much hair Ranmao has, so I see no reason to alter it.

Twin braids are very much associated with the “China doll look”, but they seem to have been branded into our image of the “Chinese Girl” because it was the go-to look for unmarried women in Republic China (which is many years later than Ranmao’s time, and also has more surviving images.)

In Ranmao’s time, unmarried girls would either wear the bottom part of their hair down, or have everything tied into a single braid behind them. Girls who preferred a more feminine look would often decorate the sides or the top with flowers or other ornaments depending on their wealth.

Yana’s notes say that the flower in Ranmao’s hair is a Chinese peony, which is also called the Empress of Flowers in Chinese as well as Japanese culture. I could find sources on how the peony was the symbol of the Empress of China, and how one better avoid wearing any type of peonies around the Empress herself for fear of being suspected of disrespect. But I could not find any evidence of such flowers being banned for other people, so presumably it was more an ‘unwritten code of politeness’ rather than fashion law.

Hence, I kept the pink peony design for Ranmao, and decorated them in the way Qing women would have.

Neckline

By far the most interesting thing I learned from this redesign attempt was that the “mandarin collar” - the thing that pops up first in most people’s minds when thinking about Chinese fashion - was in fact not at all common.

In this academic work on Chinese fashion history, Finnane writes that the ‘high collar’ was “not a common feature of costume before the twentieth century.” Instead, most costumes would have had a round neckline.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 93

The ‘high collar’ gained popularity in early 1900s in China after the Europeans brought with them the beauty standard for high collars, as well as slim-fitted silhouettes. The Chinese increasingly adopted this type of collar and the slim silhouette (the well known ‘china dress/qipao/cheongsam’), and the relatively many early photos that survived helped engrave this stereotype into our minds.

Sleeves

I do not think it requires any mention, but 19th century Chinese fashion did not include boleros... For many of the original designs of Ranmao I can sort of see where Yana got that image from, but this bolero-look truly beats me.

The sleeves worn in the late Qing period were relatively wide, though they were starting to slim down over time. Late Qing women enjoyed much more flexible clothing rules than earlier Qing women, and the width of the sleeves was in great part determined by personal preference, season, but mostly one’s wealth.

Needless to say, the larger the sleeves the more fabric and embroidery it would require, and thus more expensive. Also, the wider the more it would get into the wearer’s way.

I don’t know how much thought Yana put into Ranmao’s original design in relation to her function as elite bodyguard, but considering how the original has zero practicality and only serves to maximise Ranmao’s attractiveness, I have no qualms about giving Ranmao fairly large sleeves too. Besides, let us assume that Lau is responsible for providing Ranmao with clothes. Illegal money tends to fill the pockets quite deeply, I don’t think he can’t spare a few pounds for big sleeves.

Wider sleeves would expose much of ‘a lady’s precious skin’, as such a more fitted layer would have been worn underneath. (The sleeves under the wider sleeves obviously did not have to be orange-ish. This was merely coincidence that both my redesign and the visual source have this colour.)

Silhouette

The figure hugging silhouette x Chinese clothes was - as mentioned above - not at all a thing in Ranmao’s time. In fact, the accentuation of the “female curves” was considered very inappropriate if not downright ugly in the Qing dynasty.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 94

Yana’s notes mention that the thing Ranmao wears is just an European corset and that that is the only thing ‘English’ about her attire.

Well... I don’t know where the idea that Victorians wore corsets on the outside comes from, but I myself admittedly was fooled by this a few years ago too... I promise you all now however, Victorians decidedly did not wear their ‘bras’ on the outside. I think even now this look is considered rather ‘questionable’ by most people.

Instead, Qing dynasty clothes were mostly cut wide and straight, loosely dangling around their bodies offering maximum comfort and space. You feared Ranmao killing you in her corset? Now tremble before her now blessed with maximised agility.

Trousers

Well... I considered ‘translating’ Ranmao’s attire to 2020 standard like I did for O!Ciel, but that would not be Tumblr-filter approved. Skirts so short they could be mistaken for a belt are nothing too surprising today, but wearing one with a split that deep is probably a bit too revealing even by today’s standards.

By the late Qing dynasty, men and women, rich and poor alike predominantly wore trousers. Long robes (skirts) were definitely in fashion too, but they were reserved for those who could afford to not have much agility. If you were a farmer, robes would not have been your first option. Perhaps the way long skirts were viewed by the Qing Chinese was not unlike the way we see them now; ‘more classy’ ‘more feminine’ and ‘less convenient’, but not the only way to express femininity.

In these pictures below we can see relatively rich women, married and unmarried alike, all wearing trousers.

Ranmao is predominantly a fighter, and as trousers are plenty feminine in Chinese fashion culture, I don’t see why she would not choose to wear trousers instead of a restricting long skirt. Hence I gave her a pair of trousers.

Shoes

Like I said before, “the shoes are correct...” But the anklets definitely are not!

Golden or silver anklets are something that are worn by very, VERY young children in China. Even to this day it is customary among many Chinese people to gift newborn children at least one piece of pendant, bracelet or anklet, for it is believed to bring the child luck. More practically, this piece of jewellery will become the child’s first piece of property then, which can be sold later SHOULD they ever run into a financially difficult situation.

These anklets or bracelets would not be removed from the child unless they have outgrown them, which happens fairly quick. Ranmao who is probably full grown should have outgrown them at least ten years ago. Hence, seeing these things on Ranmao would probably make it look like she is still wearing diapers or bibs.

Chinese people would likewise not have worn shoes barefoot. Instead, they would have worn cotton socks which were mostly white.

DOUBLE HAMMERS

HERE COME THE WEAPONS! Luckily Yana wrote the following note or I would never have guessed what they are for my knowledge about Chinese weapons is next to nothing.

“These are【SUPER】heavy. They are weapons called 双錘 (double hammers) and they in fact exist. I heard these were used by power-type warriors.”

So, I googled 双錘 and it turns out that the type Ranmao is holding do indeed exist! But... only in fiction and theatre.

The hammers that were used in actual combat were either very thin and long, or short and plump. Such hammers were one of the most primitive metal weapons in China, and quickly fell out of favour among Chinese warriors when more practical weapons such as the metal spear, sword and bows were invented. The hammers mostly retained their value because of their weight in heroic tales and myths about legendary warriors and deities.

I don’t have the full details, but apparently according to some legends or myths, one of such big-ass hammers could deal a force of 200kg, and thus 400kg combined. Regardless of this being realistic or not, it sure does sound very cool! It is therefore no wonder this primitive weapon retains its popularity even today.

Nowadays when these hammers are used, they are either the blown up theatrical versions, or the smaller versions for the sake of preserving martial arts.

I had a bit of a dilemma as to which version to give Ranmao, but in the end I settled with the short and heavy ones because I wanted to keep the idea of this small and innocent looking girl wielding solid metal balls. Two cheer-leading sticks would simply not have the same weight, figuratively and literally.

Alright everyone! Did you enjoy my response to your votes? I hope you did ^^ Non-European fashion history really is not my strong suit, so my deepest apologies if I messed anything up.

Pray tell if I did, I am always happy to learn ^^

[sweetchup]

Little Fish; Big Fish

Type: Rin Obami x reader

Au?: None

Word Count: About 10,000 words

Warnings: Don’t think I need to say this but just in case, Yumeko and Kirari (Enough said). (This is also Kakegurui so everyone is a little bit insane)

Author note: Why is it always the smiley and soft looking boys that are actually bad guys that I simp for? Someone help.

“Are you nervous?”

Kirari's powerful voice resounds throughout the empty student council room and catches you off guard. At her sudden question, or rather statement, you can’t help but notice that your hands, that were holding your cards, were in fact shaking.

Ever so slightly, you begin to loosen the grip you had on the cards, hoping (practically praying at this point) to stop the shaking. Though, it was a futile attempt in the end as you still had ever so slight small twitches throughout your whole body that gave you away.  

How did you get in this mess?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself ever since you got Kirari’s gamble invitation. One, you still haven’t understood why she would give you in the first place. After all, you weren’t rich. Not even in the slightest way. Both of your parents had normal office jobs and the only reason you had even got accepted into this school was due to your grandfather having worked here as a teacher in the past.

There was also the fact you didn’t gamble. Though, it wasn’t just because you couldn’t, it was also because you weren’t interested. The chips used in betting were often millions of yen anyways and you didn’t feel the joy of ending up in debt for the rest of your life. At the very least however, you understood why so many flocked to the thrill of gambling. The many times you ran into Yumeko Jabami and were roped into watching her nonsense with her gang of friends proved that.

But still…., even with being friends with Yumeko Jabami, you were still utterly nothing. Just someone that adorned the school halls. A wallflower that had somehow, through some unknown luck, has avoided becoming a housepet. So, just why were you here. It made no—

The sudden noise of Kirari placing her cards down on the table snaps you out of your thoughts. For the first time since you arrived, you finally gain the courage to glance at her face.

With her electric blue eyes that almost seemed to glow and a small, ever so slightly, smile that graced her also blue lips, you can’t help but gulp. You knew what was about to happen wasn’t good.

“(Y/n) (l/n). That’s who you are, right?”  Kirari inquires, leaning back in her chair slightly as she turns her attention to the massive fish tank in the room. “You are the eldest daughter and only child of your (l/n) family name. With most of your family being mere pawns of larger companies. Honestly, your income is hardly a cent compared to other students at our school.”

You bite the edge of your lip slightly. It was the truth but you wished she didn’t have to spell it out so bluntly.

“Yet,...” Kirari turns her gaze back to you, “You still have lasted longer, even better, than others at this school. I wonder how...”

As she finishes her sentence, Kirari reaches over to examine a small box of traditional Japanese sweets. A box she had won off of you in the last round. Even though she had frazed her last sentence as a question, you could tell she already knew her own answer.

“I will admit, the strategy you have come up with to survive is actually incredibly smart. If you are ever forced to gamble, you bet these sweets you bought from some commoner’s shop. Since most students here don't know the price of average items, They over bet what the equivalent price is. Letting you have quite the side profit when you do happen to win.”

“Ah yes… it’s really all I can afford…” You say, letting out a small chuckle at the end in hopes of lightening the room. Which thankfully, on your end, does as Kirari laughs along as well.

“You know... I have something that could possibly help with that ‘wealth problem’ of yours.“

Caught off guard by her sudden statement, you looked at her bewildered.

“What do you mean by that?” You say in an unsure light filled tone, hoping she was just joking.

“Well, I heard from—“

However, before Kirari could finish what she was proposing, the student council doors open with a loud bang. Startling you so much you almost drop your cards. However, Kirari does not even flinch in the slightest. Almost as if she expected that to happen.

“Hello (y/n)!!” Yumi shouts out to you as she pushes Terano into the room along with Ibara following in tow. Once the pinked hair male notices you, he quickly walks, more like runs, over to your side.

“You didn’t lose anything right?” Ibara asks as he peers down at the table of cards. He must have noticed you were gone from morning classes today and had searched to come find you.

“A-ah nothing big. Just two boxes of candy.” You tell your classmate and friend as he checks your bag. Though, your answer doesn’t seem to reassure him in any way.

“I think that’s enough betting for today. Let’s go, break is about to end anyways.” Ibara states as he practically tries to drag you out of your seat.

“O-ok. Well, I better get going then. Thanks for the small game Kirari.” You say, giving the president a small bow as you stand and proceed to grab your bag.

“(Y/n),” You pause at what you are doing when you suddenly feel a hand scooping your cheek, looking up you see Kirari leaning over at the table. “If you want to hear the rest of my proposal, come stop by.”

Almost in a trance, perhaps it was her angelic looks that caused it, you can’t help but nod.

“Good. I will await for your arrival—“

“Kirari,” Kirari is once again cut off as Terano speaks. The two stare at each other, almost as if they are exchanging in some sort of conversation. You can’t tell what was being said but you noticed the atmosphere of the room had grown rather tense.

“Let’s leave…,” Ibara whispers in your ear as he gives your arm a light tug.

“Ok…” You give Terano a small bow and smile in thanks before you leave the room with Ibara. As the door finally closes with a loud thud, Terano lets out a heavy sigh.

“Can’t you for once in your life not treat something as some sort of gamble?”

Kirari can’t help but raise an eyebrow at Terano’s bold statement. It seemed she was right about the fact the other family members have grown attached to (y/n) as well.

“Well, it would be rather boring to watch on the sidelines.” Kirari says as she looks over to her fish tank. Just as she does so, two fishes appear, one big and one small. Even though there was a major difference in size, they weren’t hostile to each other and were actually being careful to not swim too far away from the other. “Rin Obami is painfully obviously in love with (y/n) (l/n) and I have a small hunch she does as well. Yet, neither has confessed and the slow game they are playing is starting to get rather boring. So, I just felt the need to spice things up a little.”

Suddenly, in the tank, another big fish appears and it is heading straight towards the smaller fish. It clearly plans to devour it.

“Still that isn’t your place to interfere.” Terano states pulling Kirari's attention away from the tank. Kirari watches as the girl before her suddenly scoffs, “What am I even saying… you don’t listen to logic anyways. I’m leaving, let’s go Yumi.”

“Okay Terano!”

As the two exit the room, Kirari stares at the closed door for a couple of seconds before turning her attention back to the tank. As she looks, she can’t find the three fish anymore and wonders what happened to them when she looked away. Was the small fish swallowed? Or did it perhaps run far away, leaving the bigger fish side?

Kirari can’t help but bite the edge of her nail in excitement as a sudden new thought comes across her mind.

Maybe…., both ended up being devoured. With the bigger fish attempting to save his smaller friend but failing and both perishing.

Kirari licks her lips as she walks over and presses herself up against the glass. Even in the off chance both of the fish did survive, it was only inevitable that another predator would soon pop up to try to devour the smaller fish again.

“Don’t get devoured so soon (y/n)... I wanna see you and Rin swim around more. Just struggling to stay alive.”

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

“Come on (y/n)! Can’t you tell me what Kirari proposed to you?” Ibara groans as he opens the door to your classroom. Most of the students of the Botan Class were already back from break and had already taken their seats.

“As I said before, I didn’t hear the full thing. Just that she wanted to help with my ‘wealth’ problem.”

After hearing Ibara let out another groan, you decide to just leave his side and walk back to your seat instead. You knew Ibara would still continue to press into you until you told Sumika, or Kawaru, to prove to him you were in fact telling the truth.

“(Y-y/n),” At the call of your name, you tilt your head up to see three of your female classmates standing near your desk. “Did you really get challenged by the President?”

“Hmm? Oh…” You take a glance to look at Ibara, who was two rows away, watching your conversation as well. Knowing that, you felt completely safe to tell the girls the truth, “I did actually. See?”

You pull out the invitation you got this morning to show the girls. As they excitedly go on to ask you questions, you can’t help but feel thankful that Ibara, and actually the rest of the “-Bami” branch families, transferred to Hyakkaou Private Academy.

Before they came, you weren’t treated as bad as a housepet but you were still looked down upon by many of your classmates. The only thing that stopped you from being bullied was your friendly gambles that kept your classmates excited for the next treat you could possibly bring in.

It was actually one of those friendly gambles that caused you to meet Rin and Ibara Obami, who had just transferred into your class, in the first place. Rin had actually thought that, based on your game, you were also from a swindler family. You didn’t quite get what he meant at the time (you actually felt slightly offended at the comment and yelled at him for it). But you soon understood what he was getting at when only a day later, a group of guys offered you way too much money and gifts for a haul of those treats.

Later that day, you begrudgingly apologized to Rin and, eventually over time, became friends with him and the rest of the “-Bami”s.

“Now, now ladies. I’m sure (y/n) can answer all of your questions later.” Speaking of the devil himself, you watch Rin take his seat right next to yours.

“O-ok Rin-sama.” You hold back a scoff as the girls run off, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. Even you, who doesn’t know how to swindle, noticed that Rin has only been buttering them up to use them as pawns later.

“So, (y/n),” Rin starts as he leans a little back in his chair and glances at you, “What happened with you and Kirari?”

“Ah. I’m actually not quite sure. I suddenly got this gamble invitation from her this morning and I know I definitely didn’t do anything recently to grab her attention.” You pick up the invitation to hand it off to Rin, slightly tensing as your fingers accidentally brush his.

Not now (y/n). You told yourself you wouldn’t.

One important thing that you have been trying to deal with recently, other than the chaos of this election of course, is your growing crush on Rin Obami. You tried to stomp it out when it first bloomed up, after all you were falling in love with one of the heirs of the famous Hundred Devouring Families, but that ended up failing... horribly.

After you tried to avoid Rin, and even Ibara eventually, the boys switched to being only hanging out with you in class to basically being by your side every single chance they got. Especially Rin, who even forced you to accompany him when he went to chat or discuss business with the other branch family members at the school.

Which is actually how you eventually became close to Terano and the others.

“How did the match go however?” Rin asks, handing the card back to you with a serious look.

“I didn’t get that far into the match before Terano and Ibara came in. We only got to two rounds, which I lost both to Kirari. However, she thankfully let me bet my sweets so I lost no money.”

“Well that’s good…” Rin says, his eyes quickly flickering to somewhere else in the room before going back to you, “Anything else happen?”

You let out a light laugh before looking up to the male with challenging eyes, “I don’t think I need to say something you already got from Ibara, Obami.”

Rin lets out a sigh and pouts a little, “Why do you always see right through me, (y/n)? And, calling me by my last name, Really?”

“Well, you and Ibara need to stop pressing into me about information that doesn’t exist. I already told everything that happened.”

After you finish speaking, Rin and you stare at each other for a couple of minutes. His blackish-purple eyes scanning for any detections of a lie almost makes you flustered. Though, thankfully before heat starts to travel up your neck, your teacher enters the room and shouts about class starting.

“Yes, Sensei!” The class resounds in unison.

As you lean down to grab out your notes for class, you feel Rin suddenly grab your hand. With Rin leaning over as well to grab his own notes, both of your heads were hidden under the desk. Helplessly, due to a firm grip on your hand, you can’t attempt to move away.

“(Y/n). If Kirari, or actually any the student council, approaches you about that offer again. Promise me that you will instantly come grab me or any of the others.”

Under Rin’s intense look, you can’t help but gulp. Why was he so nervous about you?

“I-I will try…“ You say quickly, averting your eyes from Rin as you use your other hand to pull out your notes. Even as you come back up to a sitting position, Rin still doesn’t let go of your hand.

“(Y/n). I want you to promise me you will definitely come grab us. I don’t want—“

“Obami. (L/n).” The teacher calls out, making you two snap your head to him. As well as making you realize everyone else in the class had been watching what was going on between you two. “I don’t think I have to say this but keep your relationship and hand holding out of my class.”

Hearing snickers and giggles from your fellow classmates, you quickly retract your hand from Rin’s and mumble out an apology.

“Ok. Then, with that squared away, let’s get started with class. We will begin where we left off last time with the sudden…”

As the teacher drones on and on about some history lesson from yesterday, you can’t help but sneak a glance at Rin. To everyone else in the class, he likely looked calmed and focused but you knew he wasn’t. Hell, from where you were next to him, you could practically feel the stress radiating off of him.

You knew the Hundred Devouring Families wasn't a nice family to be in but was Kirari really that dangerous? You knew she was really dangerous to someone average like you but to someone like Rin? Even if he was a branch family, he had a lot of power and money. Likely at least close, if not on par with Kirari.

Still, no matter what you thought, Rin was still stressed out that you were on Kirari’s radar.

Glancing away from Rin, you see the teacher was currently occupied with writing something on the board and the rest of the students weren’t paying any attention to you two whatsoever. However, even with them being distracted, if you tried to talk to Rin and got even the slightest bit too loud you could gain someone’s attention. So, how would you get his attention without interrupting class…

Thinking for a couple of minutes, an idea suddenly comes to your mind.

Shakily, you slip a hand down to your side and move it around a little. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter when your hand accidently nudges against Rin’s. Which only grows worse as you can almost physically feel Rin’s attention shift from the board towards you.

Letting out a shaky breath, which you hoped Rin didn’t notice, you lightly enrap your hand around his.

“I’ll try to come grab one of you guys. I-It’s just I’m not exactly in a position to refuse someone as powerful as Kirari ....” You whisper out, your eyes still trained on the board as you can’t bring up the courage to look over at him.

You sit there tensely for what felt like forever, waiting for some sort of response. Perhaps your voice was too soft and he didn’t hear you?

However, just as you go to repeat yourself, you nearly end up choking on your own spit. The sudden feeling of Rin entwining his fingers with yours and placing your enwrapped hands in his jacket pocket so no one would notice, sent your heart into a frenzy and you were having a very hard time not melting on the spot right then and there.

Just as you think it couldn’t get any possibly worse for you it does. Your heart nearly explodes out of your chest as Rin casually leans closer to you so he can whisper in your ear. You could even, from how close he was, smell a hint of the expensive cologne he put on every day.

“Okay. I’ll stick by your side from now on then.” Rin whispers quickly, his breath ever so slightly tickling the shell of your ear, before sitting back into a normal position.

You are about to respond how that wasn’t needed in the slightest but before you can the teacher turns back around.

“Okay. So, to review…” The teacher looks around the class before finally stopping at you, “...(L/n).”

“Y-yes,” You squeak out, quickly trying to remove your hand from Rin’s before the teacher notices. However, as you attempt to do so, Rin only tightens his grip. Not enough to hurt, but definitely enough so you couldn’t possibly slip your hand out of his without creating a scene.

You give Rin a quick glare, which he of course responds with a smile, before turning your attention back to the teacher as he continues.

“What does Edo mean?” The teacher asks, leaning slightly back against the board.

“Well Sir, Edo could refer to two possible things. The first being the time period named after it, the Edo Period. This was when Japan was under the rule of the Tokugawa Shogunate. However, Edo could also mean—“

You suddenly choke up as you feel Rin adjust his grip so he can rub his thumb over the back of your hand. Even though it was such a small, almost trivial, gesture, it caused your brain to go blank. Almost as if it had fried itself.

“U-uh…” You jumble up your words for a couple of seconds before finally composing yourself, “E-Edo could also refer to the previous Japanese Capital, that was called ‘Edo’ before it got changed to ‘Tokyo’ in 1-1868…”

“Excellent! So, Can anybody tell me the name of that Shogunate from the Edo Period?“

As the Teacher turns around to write the answers down on the board, you turn your attention back to Rin, who looked quite proud of himself.

“What’s wrong (y/n)? Flustered much?” Rin whispered out, Jokingly yet also quite mischievously. You swore,

If ‘sadist’ had a picture in the Urban dictionary, it would be a picture of Rin Obami. Especially due to the fact, he took great joy from just messing with you, or sometimes other people.

“It’s your fault, dingbat. Are you trying to get us caught?”

“I doubt we would. I mean look at Ibara, even he hasn’t caught on yet.”

At Rin’s words you swing your head around to take a glance at Ibara. The pink haired brother looked bored out of his mind and only lightened up a little when he noticed your gaze on him. He gives you a small unaware wave in your direction which you return quickly before turning back around.

“Fine, I’ll admit you're correct by that.” You tell him, begrudgingly which he lightly laughs at.

“See~ don’t worry about it.” Rin mutters back and gives you a small wink before turning his attention back to the lesson. Which, after huffing for a second, you soon do as well.

You just wished he would quit messing around with stuff like this…

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

“Oh? What’s going on with you and—“

“Don’t ask.” You mutter out, cutting off whatever Yumeko was going to say as you take a seat next to her for dinner. Still slightly flustered at the fact, Rin insisted he held your hand the entire walk to dinner even though that bastard wasn’t actually having dinner in the dining hall in the first place.

Terano had told him that she wanted a meeting with branch family members only. But, due to his promise in history class, he insisted on at least walking you to dinner if he couldn’t join you. Which you can’t believe he actually did as it was incredibly embarrassing to see your classmates whispering and making kissy faces at you two.

“But, come on (y/n)~ You have to at least tell us what’s going on with you and Rin. We are friends aren’t we?” Yumeko whines, really wanting to know what’s happening.

“Or, at the very least, tell us about what happened between you and the President.” Mary suddenly says as she takes her seat on the other side of you.

“Oh yeah, I heard many people whispering about it in the classroom! I thought it was only a rumor? Well I hoped it was for your sake…” Ryota murmurs out, recalling what he heard before he left for dinner with Yumeko.

Speaking of Yumeko, Ryota noticed her suddenly getting very excited at the thought of the President. Quickly, she grabs your hands, her red crazed staring down at you.

“Oh, (y/n)! Please tell me it was true! I want to hear everything, everything, that happened at that gamble!”

“Well… Um… it wasn’t actually that exciting. I only—“ Just as you go to tell Yumeko what happened, your phone suddenly goes off. “Oh sorry guys, it’s my mom. I’ll be back.”

Quickly excusing yourself from the cafeteria, you answer your phone out in the empty hallway.

“Hello? Mom?“

“O-oh (y/n)! I-I-I’m so sorry!” You can’t help but be shocked as you hear the hiccuping of your mother from the other end.

“Mom? Are you alright? W-what’s wrong? Did something happen?” You worriedly asked. You’ve never, ever, seen your mother get so upset before.

“I-I just found out your father has been cheating on me for years. He actually has a whole-e-e secret family behind our back.” Your mother pauses her sentence as she tries to compose herself from another sob racking through her body.

“O-oh Mom,” You feel terrible yourself. That was your father, of course, and you couldn’t believe he would do something like that to you and your family. “I-If you want, you can call the school and I can get the quickest train home. I might miss class tomorrow but I can at least help you through this!”

“T-Thank you, Honey… but I’m afraid that you can’t.” You are stunned for a second. What did she mean you couldn’t, you could easily make up any missing classwork and homework you would miss.

“Mom what—“ A wretched sob from your mother on the other end of the phone cuts you off.

“B-before your father left, he took out every last cent of our savings-s. We have nothing left and I have to still wait for my paycheck next week!”

Your ears begin to ring as you attempt to process the tumble of words out of your mother’s mouth. You couldn’t quite believe it. You actually didn’t want to believe it and hoped this was some nightmare that you would wake up out of. Everything? All that money your family worked for… was really gone?

“(Y-y/n) sweetie?” Your mother suddenly calls, breaking you out of your daze.

“Y-yes mom?”

“I know this is a lot to ask, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to—“

“Mom I’ll do it! Don’t worry about me!” You quickly reassure, ready to help take off any burden on your mother.

“O-okay. If possible, could you ask one of your friends if we can take out a loan of their money? We just need some to pay for rent and bills for a while and I will instantly try to pay them back.” As your mother finishes explaining the rest, you can’t help but be silent for a couple of minutes. Your brain was racking with any possible other ideas before you finally gave up and answered.

“Y-yeah I’ll try to see what I can do.” As your mother hangs up, you can’t help but collapse to the floor.

A loan from a friend? That your family can pay back? That would be impossible. Your father made a ton more money than your mother and was essentially the main breadwinner of the family. It would take at least a year, maybe even two, for you and your mother to get back on your feet. You can’t afford to pay back that much debt and can’t afford to ask your closest friends to support you for that long. That would just be so wrong… but, you also didn’t know what else you could do.

“You know... I have something that could possibly help with that ‘wealth problem’ of yours.“

Kirari… you could ask Kirari! You didn’t want to but she had already offered you money or financial stability and it was way better than putting your friends in that position. Her offer might also be good enough that your mother and you could get out of the old nasty apartment you rent.

As you get to your feet and are about to try and make your way down the hall, you feel someone grab your arm.

“A-ah. E-Erimi, Sumika. H-hello, how are you?” You can’t help but gulp. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings while on that phone call, so they possibly could have heard all of it.

“(Y/n)-San, I apologize but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” You freeze at Sumika’s words, “I hope I’m wrong by this but please tell me you're not thinking of going to Kirari about this.”

Shit, Sumika always got it right on the dot when it came to you.

“I-I’m not. I’m just going to try to find Itsuki.” You murmur out, trying to lie even though it was futile. Curse Sumika’s acting and reading skills.

“(Y/n). Please don’t lie about things like this.” Sumika says in a worried tone. However, you can’t bring yourself to continue the conversation you were having with her. Already you were embarrassed enough that this was happening to you in the first place, but it only got worse that likely the “-Bami” family will have to help you again. It mostly made you feel bad since you can’t do anything to repay them for their kindness.

“Sumika, Please I need to do this. I’ll be fine.” You reassure the girl in front of you, lightly grabbing her hand that was wrapped around your wrist, trying to pry it off.

“(Y/n), No. …Erimi!”

Erimi, who was standing on the side worriedly about what was happening, instantly turned to Sumika.

“Erimi, please go grab Terano-san and Rin-san. Please… quickly!” You instantly freeze as you watch Erimi nod before quickly running off and disappearing down the hall. You can’t get Terano and Rin involved. Those two need to save every cent of their money to help buy leftover votes nearing the end of the election. You can’t possibly have them waste all their hard work on you, not after they have been working so hard for it.

… You just can’t afford to be the cause of crushing Rin’s dream like that. You know how much being head of the “-Bami” family meant to him.

“S-Sumika please, I beg of you. Don’t get Rin involved, you know he needs as much money as he can for this election! I will only stand in his way if he helps support me. Please, just le—“

“(Y-y/n),” You can’t help but gasp and freeze as you see a tear roll down Sumika’s cheek. “D-do you really see yourself as a burden to Rin? To us?”

You suck in a breath, ready to answer back but find yourself unable to. Your stomach felt like it was twisted into so many knots that you were about to puke.

Using her free hand, Sumika wipes away her tears and takes a deep calming breath before continuing, “(Y/n), Please don’t think so low of yourself. We all care for you and have never seen you as a burden. Especially Rin. He would feel so guilty if he didn’t help you out in a desperate situation like this. All of us would. I don’t have the right to say this but Rin—“

“Oh my god. Is that Kawaru Natari?”

“Ah! I think it is!”

Suddenly, Sumika’s grip on your hand disappears as you are pushed away by a group of her fans. Even though Sumika is trying to find and call out your name, none of the fans seem to know or care about what’s going on with her. All they care about is trying to get her autograph or at least shake her hand.

Stumbling to your feet, you take a glance at Sumika who was still encircled in her fans. The bubbling feeling of guilt lumps up in your throat as you think… No, you decided about what you should do.

“Sorry Sumika…” You murmur to yourself as you run down the hallway and to the stairs. You had no time to waste because Erimi has likely already notified the others of what is happening.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

“I-is this the room?” You ask Kirari, taking a look around as you enter a giant room you have never been in. It looked like any other formal dining hall with many white clothed tables decorating the room.

“Yes. After all, you said the others are searching for us and this will likely be the last place they will check,” Kirari says as she walks over and places a bunch of paper packets on the central table, “Let’s get started shall we?”

“Y-yes of course. But first, What is your offer?”

“It’s a thing I like to call a ‘Life Plan’.” Kirari explains, picking up one of the fancy packets to show you. As you flip through it, she continues, “As the name suggests, it’s a plan of your entire happy life. Usually, I give these to House Pets who have no hope of getting out of their debt, but I believe it has the ability to benefit you as well.”

“R-really?” You mutter out, slightly disgusted by the fact this packet says you will marry a 50 year old politician and have 5 children with him, “A-ah!”

You are startled as Kirari plucks the packet out of your hand and suddenly rips it apart, “Don’t worry that one wasn’t for you. Since you are close with my extended family, I have taken much care in picking the best bachelors… that are also around your age.”

“O-oh really? Thanks Kirari,” You tell Kirari relieved, flashing her a thankful smile. Well as thankful as you could. Your heart felt like it was slowly shattering at the thought you were essentially selling yourself off to someone you don’t even know.

Rin…

You quickly shake the thought of Rin out of your mind. You can’t think of him right now, you had to do this for your family. He was your friend, so he should understand. And eventually, though slowly and painfully, that silly crush you have on him will disappear.

However, the more you repeat that to yourself, it sounds like you were just desperately trying to convince yourself of that.

As you begin to walk with Kirari to the table, you speak again, “Are there any of these you specifically want me to start reading first?”

“Well…,” You watch as Kirari pulls out a deck of cards from her pocket, “I think it would be so boring to pick it out normally. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“W-well… I don’t exactly agree. I prefer—“

“(Y/n)!? (Y/n)!? Where are you?!”

“Ibara?” You whisper out, startled as you turn around to the door behind you. After a couple of minutes of more shouting, you see the knob of the door shake, “(y/n)? Are you in there?!”

“Uh—“

You freeze as you feel Kirari wrap her arms around your waist from behind.  “Come on, let’s hurry (y/n). They haven’t noticed us yet but we have no time to waste. They could possibly come interrupt us at any time…. and you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

As you feel Kirari’s words sink in, you realize you had to get this done with, rather quickly as well. Meaning, it would take too much time to look through each individual packet, “No…I wouldn’t want that…”

“Good… Come, I’ll explain the game. It’s rather simple.”

You, almost in a trance like state, watch as Kirari shuffles the deck of cards and place them randomly over the table.

“You will slowly pick the cards one by one until a single one remains. Each card represents the matching life plan it is attached to.”

“It’s a fun game of fate!” Confused by the sudden new voice, you see Yumeko entering from the other side of the room from another door. As Yumeko makes her way in front of you, she instantly wraps her hands around yours before speaking again, “Oh (y/n), it will be so much fun! You have to play!!”

“W-what…? I mean, I already am. I have to after all.” You inform the girl, pulling your hands from hers to make your way to the table. You, at first, are shocked that she wanted you to continue but soon realize this was Yumeko Jabami. She was mentally insane and if she could, she would happily switch places with you instantly.

Hesitantly, after shaking your thoughts out of your head, you begin to pick up cards to get rid of. No real pattern in mind.

“(Y/n), be careful not to go too fast. You have to enjoy the process!” Yumeko exclaims, watching intently as you already give Kirari half of the deck that you have collected. “Unless, you are really just leaving it up to fate and luck…? Oh, that would be so fun! (Y/n), you really are a genius!”

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” You freeze as you hear someone else burst into the room. Nervously turning around, you spot Ibara and Miroslava at the doors. “She’s over here! Ibara quickly, go grab Rin!!”

As Ibara runs off, Miroslava makes her way to your side, “Kirari this gamble is over with! (Y/n) isn’t taking part in this anymore!”

“B-but Mir—“ “I’m pretty sure (y/n) can speak for herself, Miroslava.”

“You manipulative—“

“(Y/n),” As Miroslava bickers with Kirari, you hear Yumeko approach you from behind, “The President wanted me to tell you that if someone tried to interrupt the game, that you can instead just pick a single card from the rest.”

“O-oh Okay…”

As you reach out to grab a random card near you, you can’t help but feel yourself freeze. Why can’t you just grab it?

Almost in disgust you draw the hand back.

“Don’t worry (y/n). You just have to pick the card that calls to you!”

“The card that calls to me?” As you walked around the table, you didn’t understand what Yumeko meant. The card that called to you? But, they were all the same… none of the life plans were exactly what you wanted either.

After circling the table again, finally one of them catches your attention. There wasn’t anything special about it. There were no scratches, chips, or folds that would draw it to you. But, for some reason, you felt like you needed to pick that one.

Shakily, you pick up the card and hold it close to you. You know you should go give this to Kirari to get this over with but you felt rooted in place. Was this the one you chose? Actually,...

Were you making the right choice to begin with?

“Did you choose one (y/n)?” Yumeko asks from somewhere behind you.

“I-I don’t know… T-this…” You feel yourself suddenly getting choked up as you looked down to the card. You didn’t want to be a wife of some random attractive man with a peaceful happy life…

….You suddenly realized you wanted to be Rin’s.

The egotistical smiley boy that you had an enormous crush on. The one that takes every opportunity to find a way to make you flustered or choked up. The boy you now realize isn’t just a helpless crush but instead someone you have fallen head over heels in love with. The boy you likely—

“(Y/n)...” You are shocked as you are suddenly forcibly turned around.

It took you a second to realize it was in fact him with his normally neat hair pushed out of place and his uniform crooked and crinkled but you soon realize, Rin was right in front of you.

“Rin… I—,“ You stop speaking as you feel him shakily wipe a tear off your face. He looked at you with concerned eyes before glaring at the card in your hand. “H-hey. I—“

You can’t do anything but watch as he angrily grabs the card out of your hand and rips it apart. Taking the card scraps, he throws them up in the air towards Kirari.

“I swear… if you EVER come near me or (y/n) again!”

“Rin, calm down.” Miroslava states as she places a hand on Rin’s chest to stop him from approaching Kirari. Who looked quite amused with his unusual reaction. “Just take (y/n) and—“

“Oh, you picked the 2 of hearts Life Plan (y/n)?” Kirari states, trying to rile up Rin more as she picks up the corner scrap of the card. “I don’t believe I remember who that is… perhaps it was the son of a big medical center? He’s only a year older than you and is quite rich and handsome.”

“What the fuck are you going on about?” Rin barks out, confused at what she was talking about. Only to get angrier as Kirari lets out a laugh.

“Here. Why don’t you take a look for yourself?” Kirari states as she chucks one of the packets at his feet. He hesitantly grabs it up from the ground and begins to flip through it as Miroslava and Ibara, who had finally walked up to the two, look over his shoulder.

“What the fuck…” Ibara whispers out in disbelief before reading out loud was written on the page to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, “(Y/n) (L/n) will marry the youngest son of a computer company. She will get pregnant right after her wedding at age 19 and will have her first of 3 sons born that following year…”

Kirari can’t help but laugh as she watches the three’s expressions turn even angrier as they flip further and further into the packet. However, instead of addressing them, Kirari turns her attention to you. Making you feel as if you freezed on the spot from her icy blue eyes, “Come here (y/n). Let’s see what life plan you picked out. I want to see if I’m correct—“

“Oh hell she isn’t—!“

Miroslava and Ibara quickly grab onto Rin as he attempts to stop Kirari from grabbing the 2 of hearts' life plan.

“Rin! You can’t attack her, she’s from the main family remember? We can’t lay a physical finger on her!” Ibara mutters out, trying to remind his brother of the rules set in place by the clan.

“I-I don’t care about that! Let me g—“

“RIN! Enough!” Everyone turns their attention to Terano who was currently being wheeled into the room by Yumi. Even she wasn’t attempting to keep a calm persona as you could clearly see a scowl on her face. “(Y/n) hasn’t accepted the life plan yet so she isn’t obligated to follow it. So, calm down.”

Rin freezes under her words but It’s quiet for a couple of seconds before he finally speaks; in a rather bitter tone as well, “Fine…but you better have a plan in mind, Terano.”

“I do. Don’t worry about it.” Terano answers letting a small sigh out as she finally relaxes, “(y/n).”

You jolt a little as Terano suddenly calls you. However, you can’t bring yourself to look at her in the eyes as she is wheeled closer to you, “(y/n)... look at me please.”

Hesitantly, almost like a child who was scolded, you look at her, “We aren’t mad at you. We just don’t get why you would go through this extreme way of getting money when we could easily let you borrow some. I doubt helping support your mother a little would cost that—”

“T-that’s the thing! It’s not going to be a little, Terano.” You blurt out before quickly shutting up once you realize you cut her off. Terano, however, doesn’t look offended in the least.

“What do you mean (y/n)? Please, continue.”

“W-well, my father not only made most of the money in our family but also protected us since we live in a not so great area. Not only would it take my mother about a year or two to get back on her feet in terms of financial situation but someone could easily just come by and steal the money you give to my family.” You explain to the others in the room who seemed to finally realize what you were getting at.

“But, that wouldn’t cost us that much would it?” Ibara asks, trying to still figure out why it was still a problem.

“Well kind of, the basics (y/n)’s family would need is to buy food, pay bills and rent, and other necessities, which we could pay for. The problem comes with things like having security and perhaps unknown debts made by her father. Those would definitely end up stacking up over time.” Miroslava explains to Ibara, who nods at her in understanding, before she continues, “Which makes sense why she would come to Kirari. Not only did Kirari already offer (y/n) a chance of more money, she offered enough that she guaranteed (y/n)’s family to move up in terms of wealth. So, (y/n) not only could skip asking us to support her but she could possibly move to a new apartment or house in a safer area and skip having to pay the necessities of security.”

“Oh I see…” Ibara says before jolting up as he sees Rin suddenly move forward towards you. He quickly grabs his brother before he can move too far away, “Rin! Let’s have Terano handle this.”

Rin turns around to give Ibara a nasty glare, “Ibara, I’m not going to sit around here and do nothing! The Obami family easily has enough money to move (y/n)’s family out of that bad apartment as well as support them.”

“That’s where you are not thinking Rin.” Miroslava states as she steps in to intervene with the brothers’ conversation. “It might be enough to pay for now but think about what will happen towards the end of the election. All of us, especially you, will need a lot of money to pay for those leftover votes people are holding onto.”

“Yeah but it’s fine. I can—“

“Rin. Miroslava’s right. If we pay too much money and some of the other branch families find out the Obami family is low on money, it could cost us. Likely, we could get devoured.”

“But—“ “Oh my, Fate can’t be funny at times…”

The three stop bickering as they hear Kirari speak suddenly and quickly notice she was flipping through the life plan you had picked up. As Kirari walks over to give it to you, Rin has to grit his teeth to stop himself from attacking her.

“Kirari—“ “You were the one to interrupt our gamble, Terano and for the second time today that is. You know…That could possibly get you in a lot of trouble.” Kirari threatens Terano, giving her a look that told Terano she was done playing silly games.

“Ah please don’t! It was my fault, Kirari.” You voiced up, not wanting the possibility of Terano getting booted out of the election. Thankfully, Kirari seems to listen and turns her attention back to you.

“Okay then, if you truly are sorry (y/n). Then, please accept your life plan.” Kirari tells you, using your own words against you. As she passes the life plan into your shaking hands, Rin can’t hold it in any longer and walks over to you two.

“Kirari! Stop this, now.” Rin says, putting a hand on Kirari’s shoulder. Only for her to swat it off like it was some pest.

“Stop what? I know I haven’t done anything wrong. (Y/n) came up to me about this offer, you all are just interfering.”

“That’s only because you put that thought in her head in the first place! In the whole time I have been here, (y/n) looks like she just wants to bolt out of here but is only kept here by the false reassurance you give her! I—“

“I’m not giving her false reassurance. I’m telling her the truth and what she needs to hear.” Kirari interrupts, a smile on her lips as she grabs the Life Plan from your hands, “Her reasoning behind this thing is so simple and straight to the point, I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“What are you talking about? I get that she doesn’t want to cause me—“

“Ah, ah, ah.” Kirari says, tutting her finger back and forth in front of Rin, “I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about her inner feelings. The ones that mostly drove her to her current decision.”

You feel your stomach drop at what Kirari was talking about. She doesn’t know about— S-she couldn’t possibly know about your feelings for Rin. And even in the off chance she did, she wouldn’t reveal it to everyone right now,... would she?

“Her inner feelings?” Rin mutters out, confused as his eyes flash to your figure.

“Do I really have to spell this out for you? (Y/n), is in love with you. To her, you were more important than herself. So she simply couldn’t afford to hold you down, possibly costing you this election.”

You feel your stomach drop as it becomes dead silent. You can’t bring yourself to look up from your feet at Rin. You just couldn’t risk the chance of looking at his face and see the possible reaction of disgust or disappointment. As the silence goes on, embarrassment begins to come in waves throughout your whole body. Enough to almost bring you to tears.

You can’t help but choke on your labored breath as you see Rin’s shoes enter your view, “(Y/n)... look up at me…”

You instantly shake your head from side to side. You just couldn’t, couldn’t.

“(Y/n)... Please…” Rin asks again, his cold hands reaching up to grab your warm flushed face. Quickly, you grab his hands to stop him from pulling your head up.

“S-stop Rin. Please… it’s o-okay that you don’t have feelings for me. Don’t feel p-pity on me.” You choke out, starting to struggle on trying not to cry. It’s quiet for a couple of seconds as Rin still struggles to force your head up. Eventually, he seems to give up as he pulls his hands away from your face with a small sigh, “K-Kirari. I will accep—“

However it seems you are proven wrong as before you can finish your sentence to Kirari, Rin picks you up. With both arms wrapped around the back of your thighs, you are forced to hold onto his shoulders for support so you don’t fall forward.

“There you are…” Rin mutters out as he looks up at you, finally able to see your face. He gives you a small smile before jokingly saying, “How many times have I told you to stop jumping to conclusions before you even hear the answer, (y/n)?”

You bite your lip and turn your gaze away from him, “You do the same thing…”

“True but that’s not what we should be talking about right?”

It goes dead quiet as you choose to not answer him.

“…Can you at least look at me…, please?” Rin gently speaks out, basically begging at this point for at least something that confirmed you were listening to him.

“Okay… What should we be talking about then?” You mumble out, hesitantly turning your gaze back down to Rin. Which from what you can see makes him a bit more happier.

“Well first, I should tell you that I… I Love you as well.” Rin confesses. However, instead of making your heart flutter like it should, it makes it ache instead. Balling your hands into fist on Rin’s suit jacket, you can’t help but close your eyes to try to calm yourself down.

“Please Rin…” You say to him, your voice broken and begging him to knock it off, “Please don’t lie about something like this…”

“I’m not lying (y/n). I would never, ever, lie about something like this.” Rin rebuts instantly. Making you open your eyes in shock as he suddenly places you down on one of the tables. You would have ended up falling backwards if it wasn’t for him grabbing onto your shoulders, “(y/n), I’ll admit right now, In front of everyone and you, that I’m a greedy son of a bitch. S-so, If you go and take that life plan, I will make it my life mission to scam that guy’s family out of so much money that it forces him to let you go. Just because, you drive me insane to the point I want to keep you all to myself.”

“H-hey you shouldn’t do that Rin. I—“

“It’s illegal? I could get in trouble? (Y/n)... my whole family business is illegal. We devote our lives to scamming people out of their money and precious items. And, If someone from the Obami family wants something, we will most definitely find a way to get it.” You can’t help but keep silent as you allow Rin’s words to soak in. He wouldn’t actually go through with that right?

“(Y/n), Think of it this way,” Yumeko suddenly speaks up. Your eyes trained to her as she make her way next to Kirari before speaking again, “You can either not take the life plan and run the risk of Rin not being allowed to pay for those leftover votes students will be holding on to at the end…”

You watch in bewilderment as Kirari passes the Life plan to Yumeko.

“...Or, you can accept the life plan you have chosen and we open it up here in front of everyone. Allowing Rin to see who it is and having him make it his life goal to destroy your arranged husband’s life and steal you back from him! …(Y/n)!”

You jolt up in surprise as Yumeko and Kirari look at you with crazed looks in their eyes.

“(Y/n)! It’s essentially a gamble! Will you choose to run the risk of Rin failing his dreams or have your arranged husband being devoured by the Obami family?! The decision of two people’s lives are in your hands!”

You look at the two in bewilderment before struggling to spit out, “You can’t be serious! Rin wouldn’t actually…”

As you turn back to look at Rin, your voice dies in your throat. He had the same crazed look as the other two as he stared down at you. Noticing you are already shaken up, he decides to push it further by leaning down to place a kiss on the corner of your lip.

“(Y/n)...,” Rin whispers out as he pulls away, his kiss making a tingling feeling resound through the surface of your lips as you stare frozen into his eyes, “I hope that with whatever decision you make, you are ready to be stuck with me because…”

Rin tilts his head to the side slightly so he can lean in again.

“...I’m never letting you go…”  

As Rin captures his lips with yours, he had only intended to give you a small kiss to signify his promise but found himself wanting, craving, more. Pulling one of his hands up, he entangles it in your hair so that he can lean in further to deepen the kiss.

After a couple of more seconds of kissing you, Rin finally pulls away. He can’t help but gulp at the dazed out expression you give him. He wanted nothing more than to swoop in to give you another kiss but knew he couldn’t. He needed to calm down from the crazed adrenaline rush running through his veins and wait for you to not be as frightened by all this madness.

“So, (Y/n)...” Terano’s voice suddenly rings out. As you look at her, it seemed her and Yumi were the only ones not with a crazed expression on. “What’s your choice?”

“I-I…” You look at the Life plan and gulp. To you the decision was obvious but you still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of your stomach twisting and turning, “I choose… to take the life plan…��

Your stomach can’t help but drop more in guilt. Not only for the fact of allowing yourself to some other man but also allowing whoever was in that plan, life to be ruined…Devoured,... by the Momobami clan.

“You sure?” Kirari asks, wanting you to repeat yourself with more confidence on the gamble you were taking.

“Yes, I don’t want Rin to lose his spot in the election. So, I’m going to choose the life plan.”

“Okay…Yumeko.”

Yumeko turns her attention to the President, a small innocent look on her face.

“Would you do the honor?”

“Of course!” Yumeko shouts out, her expression going back to pure crazed delight. “Ready (y/n)?”

Your voice suddenly feels lost as you watch Yumeko adjust her grip on the life plan, leaving you with no other option than to nod your head as a sign of confirmation. As you watched what felt like Yumeko opening the first page of the life plan in slow motion, your heart was practically thumping out of your chest. Who could it possibly be?

You take your eyes away from the life plan for a moment to look at Rin. You just hoped whoever it was it wasn’t someone at the school. Rin and the other -Bami’s would make their life here a living hell.

Suddenly, Rin’s calm face turned to one of surprise and then, weirdly, he laughed.

“Huh?” You can’t help but let out, unable to understand why he did that until you turned back to Yumeko, “W-wait.. what-t?”

“Holy shit!” Ibara yells out, unable to help himself as he comes up to ruffle your hair, “Look like your my sister in law now, huh?”

“B-b-but… how?” You say in disbelief as you continue to stare at the life plan. Starting to finally coming to terms that you weren’t going insane and that Rin’s school profile picture was in fact staring back at you.

“That is a good question…” Ibara mumbles out, both him and Rin looking at Kirari confused, “How did you get our old man to accept this, Kirari? I can understand if it was me but Rin’s the family heir. He normally wouldn’t allow this kind of stuff.”

Kirari lets out a light laugh, “True, Mr. Obami really didn’t want to accept my proposal when I called him. He almost hung up on me when I told him how (y/n) had nothing to her family name…But...”

Kirari pauses for a second, almost as if she was trying not to laugh, “But, once I explain how (y/n)’s family had a generally healthy medical background and how (y/n) would be able to produce many healthy children in the future. He reconsidered as long as she and her family lived at the Obami family estate so he can keep an eye on (y/n) and teach her a couple things.”

You let out a small groan as you hide your face in Rin’s neck. Purely embarrassed about the fact that's the reason your future in-laws were going to allow you to marry their son. Talk about a first impression…

“Sounds like your father…” Terano sighs out as she looks at Rin and Ibara who are both trying not to laugh.

“Well, on the bright side (y/n), you really lucked out! You got everything you wanted!” Yumeko tells you as she happily passes the life plan off to Rin.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused, sending a quick glare Ibara’s way as he snickers at something written down in the life plan.

“Well, obviously you got to be with Rin and avoided causing someone else’s life to be destroyed by him.” Yumeko explains, holding up one hand to signify the obvious before holding up her other hand to explain the other thing she was getting at, “But, you also gained the thing you were fighting for. With your family forced into moving in the Obami estate, Rin doesn’t have to pay for any of your life expenses that you were so worried about.”

“Oh yeah…” You mutter out as you take a glance up at Rin who was still reading the life plan. You really did end up lucking out. There’s really no downfall in this exact scenario.

“Hey Kirari…” Ibara suddenly speaks up. Based on his expression, it looked like he was thinking something hilarious. Which isn’t always the best when it comes to Ibara, “I think you got something wrong here.”

“Oh?”

Ibara's expression gets even worse as he tries to hold back his laughter before continuing, “Yeah. I doubt (y/n) and Rin are going to have their first kid at 20 when dad is going to likely room them together!”

At Ibara’s inappropriate comment, you can’t help but smack him.

“Ibara!”

“Booooo! That was bad”

“Ibara, That was way too inappropriate!”

“Hey! Come on guys… that was actually— Hey wait don’t leave!”

…You were wrong, there was always a downside to something. One of them being the fact you had to live the rest of your life listening to the Obami brother’s teasing.