#we should all try worrying a bit less about the purity of the things we like.

[genderqueer-karma]

hey so it’s bhm here in the us and i was thinking thoughts earlier. i figured this was a semi-appropriate time to post something like this anyway, so here’s what my brain spat out (in post format!)

my thoughts (as a black person) on that fucking locs wig/headpiece

so. if you’re a fan of malice mizer or are vaguely familiar with them through cultural osmosis of a friend or whomever talking about them, there’s a considerable chance you’ve seen pictures of mana様 wearing this wig*:

yk. the locs.

it goes without saying that this is appropriation of black culture**. my culture. doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

i’ve seen people (particularly on tiktok, though there have been people in other places) make a big stink over it! and that is valid, for the most part.

however, of the examples i’ve seen of non-black people wearing black cultural styles (and i have seen quite a few), this is probably one of the most tame.

i have seen people try to give themselves “locs”/“dreads” in their own, non afro-textured hair. it has usually turned out to be a matted, unhealthy mess that ultimately has to be cut. that cannot be said of this wig. it is pristine in comparison, which i find to be fascinating! if you look at wigs made to resemble locs, 90% of the time they still look gross and matted. (a common theme… truly peculiar. /sarcasm)

that in particular makes me believe (to a certain extent) that this was not intentionally malicious. so truthfully, it’s hard to demonize it entirely.

with that in mind, i’m not defending this either; trust when i say that i am immensely disappointed to see these things. primarily, that’s because it does bring into question just how safe i am/will be within these fan spaces as a black person. if we cannot call out these things as a community and be in complete understanding with one another about why this is wrong, we cannot progress past it.

however, i find it truly bizarre that people will be frothing at the mouth over this now. it’s been ~20/30 years! beyond that, there’s been no major incidents like this since then!

there is no real reason to continue complaining so frequently about something so old at this point in time, especially when it was not done out of genuine, unadulterated hatred.

sure, we (black fans, in our relatively small number) should maybe be given an apology, but it’s a minor wound at worst, and an apology that is unlikely to happen because of how long ago everything transpired.

i, personally, am more concerned with fans and their issues than mana様 himself. as far as i’m concerned, he’s literally just some guy. he doesn’t even do a lot in the public eye as often as he used to. he just peddles his wares and shit, which is not something i’m worried about.

in essence, yes, 1000%, it’s wrong. yes, we should bring attention to it.

but no, it does not warrant any major action on the part of fans. especially not those who simply wish to white knight and prove they’re “cool” or “woke” for internet brownie points rather than actually ally themselves with the black community on more pressing issues than a 30-year-old wig.

thanks for reading, i guess. happy black history month. actually listen to the black people around you year-round.

***

*(yes, it is a wig/headpiece. i’ve checked multiple times.)

**(i can only speak on my perspective of my culture, but i know others have feelings about other things that mana様 especially has done by way of appropriation.)

***(also, don’t ask me about the braids from early klaha era. i don’t care! re-read the post if you’re that concerned.)

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Consent Culture: What it is and isn’t

In some of the hypnokink discord spaces I’m in, I’ve noticed a worrying trend. People saying other folk can’t talk about a specific topic, or use certain words, etc, because they “didn’t consent to that.” It’s a weaponization of consent culture to force *purity* culture, often, and I’m really tired of seeing the culture I fought so hard to help establish be used to silence folk just trying to talk about things they enjoy!

So. Let’s all have a little chat about what consent culture is and means, what it isn’t, and what any given individual’s responsibilities are in a consent culture.

Being in a consent culture means not *doing things* to other people without their consent; touch, sharing information about them, in my community’s context hypnotizing them or using/attempting to use triggers on them… things like that. It also includes giving people space where they can feel comfortable disagreeing, saying ‘no’ to requests, and so on. Respecting other people’s boundaries, and not always demanding their time and energy. It involves making a good faith effort to respect not only the letter of the rules, but the *spirit* of the rules in a space, as well.

It is not, however, shutting down anything that causes anyone in the space discomfort. We’re all adults here, as this is a kink space. As adults, we SHOULD be able to handle a little discomfort. And if something is truly upsetting to you? You can ask something like “hey, can we change the topic,” of course, but if the others don’t want to? Or, if, say, you’re in a public play space and someone is doing a scene you don’t like? That’s when the rule of two feet comes in.

For those who are unfamiliar with the rule/law of two feet, it’s a concept taken from a meeting style called “open spaces” - and loosely what unconferences are based around.

A businessman named Harrison Owen, involved in spaces that promote this philosophy, sums it up thusly:

“Briefly stated, this law says that every individual has two feet, and must be prepared to use them. Responsibility for a successful outcome in any Open Space Event resides with exactly one person—each participant. Individuals can make a difference and must make a difference. If that is not true in a given situation, they, and they alone, must take responsibility to use their two feet, and move to a new place where they can make a difference.”

What does that mean in kink spaces? Well, it’s less about productivity/making a difference, and more about finding the right comfort level. Is a class covering topics that you don’t enjoy? Or is the demo a bit more graphic than you’d like to see? Step out (whether for a moment or the rest of the class) and get some air, going back in later if you want to see if they’ve moved to something you find more comfortable. People talking about a kink that you find squicky or that triggers negative emotions? Walk away for a bit, or stop reading the channel. On places like here, on tumblr, mute a tag/word. Let people enjoy the thing and rejoin them when the topic changes.

Because that’s your responsibility in a consent culture - advocating for your own comfort *in a way that lets people enjoy the things they enjoy.* Sometimes that means you miss out on time with people you like, yes. But it’s better than making people dislike you because you keep telling them that they can’t engage with something they enjoy!

Also? Because it bears calling out, though it’s a bit tangential here? Disgust is not and never will be a gauge of immorality or unethical behaviour. Plenty of people are disgusted by the concept of rape play - but that doesn’t mean that consenting adults engaging in rape play are acting unethically. Some things are both disgusting AND unethical, of course - actual rape, for example! - but if your main reason for saying something is immoral or unethical is “it makes me uncomfortable” or “I find it disgusting”? Probe harder and consider that your aversion may just be distaste, and it isn’t a moral judgement.

Bystander consent is a different topic for another day, mostly, but I do want to note - it tends to come into play when the Rule of 2 Feet doesn’t really work, such as in places of business where employees cannot walk away.

I also want to take a moment to discuss the distinction between consent and having boundaries.

Consent is about things being done to or by you; boundaries are about other people’s actions that are not directly involving you.

So “don’t pull my hair” is a consent line. “Don’t talk about X around me or I’ll stop interacting with you” is a boundary.

“Don’t talk about X around me” without a consequence is just a rule, and outside of power exchange dynamics where the ability to give rules is negotiated? Rules in relationships typically just breed resentment.  But also, if you disagree with a boundary someone is trying to draw for you, and you’re willing to bear the consequences? That *is not* a consent violation. That isn’t what consent is for. Having said that, a violation is a violation - whether a violation of boundaries or of consent - and either can hurt just as much as the other.

And claiming otherwise? Is weaponizing consent culture to manipulate people, whether intentionally or not. And we all need to do better than that.

[aeoki]

Number Eight - Tripping: Chapter 7

Characters: Rinne, HiMERU, Kohaku & Niki Location: Los Angeles Townscape

TL Note:

A pure culture of an organism is a culture which is obtained from a single strain having no contamination of other strains of organisms. Basically, Niki is trying to say that Rinne was raised in a pure environment, free from other influences/culture.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< After some time. >

HiMERU: Three hours left. It seems “Number Eight” is finally coming to an end.

Niki: Let’s hurry and find the goal while Rinne-kun’s resting in the car.

Kohaku: Where are the clues for the goal hidin’, anyway? I wish we had somethin’ more specific.

Rinne: Sorry to make ya wait, guys!

HiMERU: That voice–

Niki: Rinne-kun! You’re finally awake. Are you feeling okay?

Rinne: You betcha. Rinne-kun slept like a baby, so he’s in tip-top condition ☆

Kohaku: Thank goodness… Still, it’s rare to see you sleep for that long.

Did you feel like a fish out of water?

Rinne: Probably. The water and air was just so different here, so I guess I must’ve used up more energy than I’d thought.

But who knew we had this sorta weakness~? Man, I’ve never been more envious of Niki’s sturdy stomach.

Niki: There’s a lot of nature back in your hometown, right, Rinne-kun~? It’s kinda like pure culture[⁎].

Rinne: I don’t wanna hear that from you. There aren’t that many things that can rival your purity, Niki. Or in terms of cooking, anyway.

Well, I’m sure the only reason I got used to living in the big city was all thanks to your cooking. But now that I’m overseas…

I ended up passing out due to starvation and lack of sleep. Haven’t done that in a while.

Dunno if someone cast a spell on me or something, but I found myself at our destination when I woke up.

You guys can’t drive, right? If you guys committed a crime, then even I can’t help you then, ya know?

HiMERU: Don’t worry. We came up with a plan for that.

You should be able to understand what happened if we told you we borrowed a staff member’s phone and used all our money to call a towing car over.

In any case, we need to find the goal.

But we don’t have any clues. There hasn’t been any new information from the tablet, either.

Kohaku: “Go back the path you came and find the goal”... the mission itself sounds simple, but we’re stumped because we don’t have any clues.

Niki: We should have more luck if we had some clues~

Rinne: Oh? You guys really have no idea?

There was a huge clue on the way here.

Niki: Wha? You sound like you know where the goal is, Rinne-kun.

Rinne: You betcha. Don’t underestimate Rinne Amagi-kun the genius…☆

I know exactly what the mean “Number Eight” staff are thinking!

HiMERU: You mean on the way here? Don’t tell me, you’re talking about that?

That banner that was at the place we landed on with the parachutes…?

It had “COME HERE” on it, didn’t it? You’re saying that wasn’t a landing point, but a clue hinting towards our goal?

Rinne: Perfect answer ☆ I’d expect no less from you, Merumeru!

I can be a bit mean, ya know~? I had a lightbulb moment when I saw the tablet saying “go back the path you came”.

It’s pretty convenient for a variety TV show to have both the starting point and the finishing point at the same place, right?

Kohaku: That’s true. It makes sense when you think about all the ridiculous things we’ve been through. They were plannin’ on confusin’ us even further by givin’ us that hint.

Niki: And they wouldn’t be villains if they just gave us a hint from the very beginning. You could even say it’d be our fault if we failed to notice it.

Rinne: If we couldn’t reach the goal, then they could laugh in our faces too.

Gyahaha. That sounds pretty funny in itself, though.

“The problem children of the idol industry fail to notice the clue at the starting point and wander around in circles on the West Coast!”

But we ain’t gonna fall for their trap.

We’re currently in a clean era, where anyone can say whatever they want on social media. They want to be a villain who wants to feel satisfied after arguing with those with differing opinions.

They only care about themselves. We’re in an era where everyone wants to win – they want to argue and eliminate the foreign matter…

If a villain doesn’t exist, then they’ll find another to use for their own satisfaction.

It makes you wonder where the real evil is, huh? Let’s hit back and do a proper job of saying NO to those opinions.

We’ll reach “Number Eight’s” goal, and we’ll sing our hearts out with love and peace. And the ones who are allowed to do that are us, “Crazy:B”, right?

HiMERU: Hehe. You’ve got quite the silver tongue. You said it loud enough for the staff behind the cameras to hear as well.

If you’ve had a good rest, then all that’s left to do is to head towards the goal.

Once again, we’ll be counting on you to drive. You’ll do it, won’t you, Amagi?

Rinne: ‘Course, I will. Right now, the word “impossible” doesn’t exist in my dictionary!

If they’re tellin’ us to “COME HERE”, then we’ll have to do just that…☆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[aimasup]

Maybe i'm late but, did anyone, like actually have left remus in a small place (for his claustrophobia) for like 4 hours or something just because he did something bad? If yes did anyone just stayed here and heard him suffer? Or actually tried to help him out in secret? Sorry if it is long ^^'

Deceit’s smarmy snake grin never left his confident face. Oh god, Remus was giving him the look. No one ever liked being given the look, something that no Side should ever be subject to, carrying the promise of your emotional vulnerability, a sackful of seeing through your bullshit and a dash of demented purity rivaled only by Patton. And Vir

Deceit cleared his throat, loudly and with purpose. “Well? Go on, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, a childish staple of his that always looked comical. “Oh come on, Nope Rope, you and I both know you spout more shit than a bull with diarrhea after one of your nightmares. So you might as well follow it up with some tea.”

So much wrong had just come out of Remus’ mouth. The man smelled like tonsil stones on a good day yet he still managed to surprise the Sides with horrifying bouts of intellect every now and then. The slimy little bugger.

"Clearly you've remembered what I told you about calling me names."

Remus leaned happily. "Nakey Snakey."

"Remus..."

"Boop Noodle!"

"Remus."

"Dangle Fangle!"

"Remus! Shut up!"

Remus feigned offense. "I'm trying out ones that start with a D!"

"That's not my point! Now distract me with musical ditties as you were instructed, you foul wretch!"

"Slithervester Stallone-!" Remus had time to squeal before Deceit squashed his face with a pillow and snatched the remote. The game was on as if by instinct and Remus tackled him from under the pillow, shrieking muffled. Deceit whacked him on the head, hard, with the remote. Remus was distracted momentarily, so Deceit took the chance and shoved him off of him with more force than necessary, insulting him all the while.

"-you nitwit, you just can't listen, can you, you moron, you bitch, you're so thick-headed, do that again and I swear-"

"You'll what, you'll lock me in the closet?"

All of a sudden, it was like an invisible giant had drowned the room in heavy syrup. The tightness from before returned and Deceit, still breathing hard, glared at Remus with gritted teeth and panicked eyes. The Side was below him, pillow on his chest, grin gone and singlet askew.

That one sentence, although it needed no context to tell who had been on the receiving end of it, brought more distress to the deceitful side than it did to the other, strangely enough. They kept their eyes trained on each other. Neither would admit that they felt like they were breathing molasses and it wasn't sweet. The television had long ago blacked out, a deafening silence following its rather meek departure.

Remus' eyes didn't stop glowing. Deceit's didn't either. None were good signs, but Remus still said, in the rare soft tone his voice could manage at times, "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Deceit swallowed. He turned away and stared at the floor, eyes narrowed to slits. He had put down the remote with controlled harshness on the sofa. He exhaled through his nose and never made eye contact with Remus.

Everyone had their little tics. Remus hated being called scary. Roman was a compulsive perfectionist. Patton had a repression habit. And Thomas didn't want to be a bad person.

Neither did Deceit.

"You know I'm over that, right?"

"... obviously."

That could mean anything, and that wasn't even getting to which part of the question he was answering. Remus bit his tongue. His canines dug into the muscle, and he pulled them out again, breathing in the scent of his own blood. Feeling a bit better, he turned away from Deceit and stared at the black screen of the TV.

"No, really you don't have to worry about it. You worrying about it pisses me off."

Still no response.

"Deceit?" Remus couldn't help but feel a bit concerned at this exchange.

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

"Who--who are you?" Fun blurbled at the figure on all fours before him. Fresh tear stains still stained his cheeks, an ear-to-ear smile etched below his eyes.

Something was off. Heart had run away with someone who looked like him, and had left him alone. He'd never do that. He'd always stuck with him through anything, no matter what he said or did. But the look Heart had given him... it was as if he didn't know what to make of him all of a sudden. Less than that, even.

The figure, still cautious and poised to pounce, didn't answer. Its impossibly wide reptilian eyes glowed bright in the dark, illuminating nothing on its entirely pitch black body, and Fun could make out nothing but a few familiar features.

"Are you a--a Side too?"It flinched and hissed at him. Fun found that he didn't duck away from the grotesque mouth that opened too wide. Or more like, there wasn't anything in his head that told him it was gross. He found it cute because it was gross, in fact.

When the brown-rimmed mouth closed, it was as if it was never there. It glared at him through narrowed eyes and spat at his feet.

"Oh."

With all the pure spite radiating off of the thing, it still approached, walking perfectly on its hands and legs. It didn't look clumsy moving like that, and Fun suspected it had always been that way.

"Wh--what are you doing?"Fun tried not to find this tiny demonic thing adorable. Didn't help matters when it planted its face on his sticky, black knee (... huh.) and walked off.

Before Fun could process what just happened, it turned around with the calmest expression and stared. And waited. It wanted him to follow.

As adorable as the thing was, Fun still had his doubts. He didn't want to leave. This was where his friends were. Curious little Learning, sweet as sugar Heart, cowardly yet caring Careful. But he had a feeling they didn't want to see him again.

It broke his heart.

So with a greasy squelch, Fun struggled to his feet and went with the creature.

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

"Deceit, you need to stop holding yourself over that. We can't be like the Others."

The further lack of response frustrated Remus. He probably should be trying to comfort Deceit, but that wasn't his type. Tough lo--learning would have to do, it was how it always went. They couldn't afford to be wishy-washy with stuff like feelings.

"Deceit, if you don't stop feeling bad about it I'm gonna smack the shit out of you. With my bare hands. And this morning star."

"Aren't you trying too hard not to be Roman?"

Remus slammed his weapon into the pillow. "Well I think you're trying too hard to be Patton!"

"Wouldn't you think Virgil would have wanted that?" Deceit was weary. Remus breathed in sharply through his teeth and stuttered.

"What?"

"It's clear we weren't the best to him. It's not his fault he left. It was for the best. He needs better than us. He deserves better than us."

"What the fuck!" Remus threw up his hands. "What the fuck, Deceit! What happened to being your own person? What happened to not giving a shit about living up to anyone's standards?! You don't know what you're talking about, because you're tired, and you're just a hypocrite who was never able to see past your own horseshit!"

"I know."

Remus wanted to rip his hair out. Deceit's or his own, he didn't really care. "Jesus Christ! Ugh!"

He flumped into a pillow and screamed into it.

Deceit watched him.

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

"You know, it's kinda weird how you don't wanna be called a Side, you know? Like, you look like Heart, and we all know that Heart looks the most like Thomas. So you gotta be pretty important. If you look the most like Thomas. Next to Heart. You know what I'm saying?"

It was still silent. The quiet walk down the tattered corridor had been awkward, and now that they were up the stairs and in some padded room that was probably the creature's, Fun tried to fill the silence as the creature studied him. It prowled around Fun as he sat cross legged on the floor, leaking tar all over the place.

"And, well, Learning is super important too. And Careful. We're all super important." It brushed by his shoulder and stared at his back with interest for a good two seconds before sitting back on its haunches.

"But Learning only looks the second most like Thomas. Careful just likes his hair to be all dangly. Though he clips it back sometimes to fit in? I think? I dunno."

"Anyways, I just thought that maybe once we're done here, with." Fun looked at the creature. "Whatever this is. I could bring you back with me to the others! I just got rid of the bad stuff in me, and once I get all cleaned up, and you too, we'll be all okay again!"

The creature stopped prodding at his back and he could feel it staring into nothing. Fun couldn't help but note the lack of breath on his neck. Either it gave up trying to appear human a long time ago or it was just that short. He giggled at the thought.

But that faded away when he started feeling slight concern. It was too silent. He hated silence. Fun turned to look over his shoulder, then shuffled his body around to peer at the creature, who was now deep in thought.

"Hey bud? What's wrong with ya? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled. "I've heard that from Learning and Heart a lot. You're gonna love em. They'll help you lighten up! Trust me, we've been through lots together, they'll like you too!"

It lifted its head up and fixated him with the saddest stare anyone could give a Side. Fun felt his excitement at meeting a new friend weather away when he felt that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A thin line of brown appeared, and widened. It's eyes darted here and there with consideration. It was choosing its words. Fun titled his head as it strained to force out words.

"Not."

"Uh. Huh? You can talk!"

"Fun."

"Wait, what are you saying?"

It bounced in place with clear frustration. After clutching its head and shaking it, it tried again.

"You. Not." It tried once more. "You. Not! You! Not! Fun!"

Fun withered under its glare, a little hurt. "I'm not fun to be with? I'm sorry, uh-"

"No!"

Fun's heart ached for the thing, confused and intrigued. All of them learned how to speak along with Thomas. How was it that this Side didn't?

"Gone."

"..."

"Fun. Gone."

"I really don't understand."

"Fun." It drew a capital F in the air. He nodded, a little less lost. It nodded too.

"Fun. Split. Gone. You. Green. Half. Heart. You. Red. Half. You." It was closer now. It stuck a finger onto Fun's chest, sorrowful expression looking like it was supposed to be welling up with tears. Its jaw trembled. "Half. Bad. Half."

"Not. Their. Fun."

Fun wasn't so sure about anything anymore. He understood it perfectly, he just really didn't want to. "You can't be serious."

It was. It looked as if it has never been more certain of anything in its life. It lowered its head.

Panic gripped him like no other and his mind began racing. He gestured wildly.

"Then--then who's that other half?! They can't go on without Fun! Thomas can't go on without Fun!" The partial emptiness that he'd been trying to ignore a long time ago had grown more apparent as he ranted. "I can't let that happen! What will they do?"

Half. Bad. Half.

It struck. 'Fun' felt his chest drop to his stomach. "They. I'm the bad half."

The creature was still as a statue."They--they think--they think the red me is--is Fun, they, Learning, Careful, H-Heart--they don't know me."

The black and green outfitted grease blob blubbered on. "It's--it's not fair! I know them! I drew pictures with Thomas, I came up with our names, I--I'm--I know what Fun knows!"

He desperately turned to the creature in front of him. "They can't do this! I-if the other me is Fun, then I'm Fun too! I'm still Fun! I still know them! I still love them! At the very least, I'm still one of Thomas' Sides!" The creature silently stared as he kept talking, as his words blurred together with cries of anguish, as he put his forehead to the floor, bunching his sash in his hands. All tears had run out earlier, and there were only bawls of despair that dissolved into whimpers.

The humanoid grease blob didn't know what to call himself anymore. But it still wasn't fair at all. The truth was that. They thought that their Fun had returned from the battle, sword held high and rid of the beast. To them, Fun was better than ever.

But what was he?

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

"When you explained in your dumb loophole way that my stupid ass brother wasn't me, it was the first time you had advice you didn't follow, did you?"

"Remus, you can't pretend you don't feel the same."

"Fuck off!" Remus groaned. "I'm not pretending for anything, Dee, I've said it multiple times, I have nothing I want to hide! But you can't be serious about wanting to be like Patton!"

Deceit pondered his answer. "I may or may not have considered it."

Remus let go of Deceit's shirt slowly. He still fixated him with fierce angry eyes as his fingers loosened, setting the smaller Side down a little. So he didn't actually think it. Just a passing thought. Okay then.

Deceit straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in his outfit. And he was back to looking sullenly at the a spot on the carpet.

Remus swallowed. God, this was harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this was how Deceit felt when he was younger, rawer in his state, unable to speak in anything but opposites. He didn't have to teach Deceit how to not speak in opposites, because the more they raised each other, the more Deceit's black scales had resided and his speech freedom loosened up.

They always talked it out, they always had to stick close. So why was it so hard now?

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

The squeal of unbridled joy when it was introduced to noir films, the long bath chases, the practice with his creations and tentacles, the nights spent splayed out messily on the same bed after a nightmare. It was simple. So simple.

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

Deceit could feel the stare from Remus leaving him. God, if that moron tried to comfort him now he was going to explode. His eye would leak tears like a broken faucet and he would be a pathetic blubbering mess, and Remus would have blackmail until the day Thomas finally died.

He swore he could feel the long exhale and mutterings as Remus thought on what to say. He really didn't care, in the end. Deceit wanted nothing more than to do his job and think nothing of anything ever again. He didnt--

"Virgil's gone, and there's nothing we can or could do about it. Because of how we are. It's jackshit to say we can change our nature. Nothing. Nada. Zero." Firm hands with black acrylics gripped his shoulder and turned his tired eyes onto Remus' own.

"Feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything. Things happen, jackoff."

Deceit's breath hitched, but he didn't quite feel like crying, oddly enough. Strange that through gritted teeth and eyes that could gleam death to anyone who doesn't know Remus well, he felt more clarification than all his thoughts combined. His mind had chanted a mantra of things his whole life, and what Remus said was only one of them. Deceit had been hoping to finally hear them from an outside source. But somehow, someway, Remus had found a way to make this line of reasoning sound less harsh.

Unpredictable as always.

"Remus. I.."

He placed his hands gently on Remus' wrists, patted twice. Remus let go and studied him, an air of sternness and also nervousness apparent in his face. They simmered in the unsaid apology, sitting on the couch in their lonely, mangy living room, like it was a vague yet satisfactory ending to a movie. That was how all their arguments would usually end, but it was rarely in any way fulfilling.

Deceit thought on it. Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, he choked out a laugh. "God, we're such a mess."

Glad the tension was broken, Remus smiled, ugly shark teeth in full view. "Yeah we are. We're the Mindscape's dumpster fires."

They were delirious with more emotion than they experienced on a daily basis, and they both chortle along to Remus' weak joke. Jesus, if you could lose fat due to mental work as well as physical, Thomas would be underweight by now.

Remus shook his head. "Honestly, you can't think too much about it. Just think of all the times we battered each other in this place, and you'll feel better about the closet thing."

Deceit snorted. "How is it that I'm more affected by it than you? Like all the times you ripped out my hair."

"Or all the times you silenced us whenever you felt like it."

"Or all those times you slammed me in to a hard surface."

"Remember that one time you left me in the closet for a week?"

"I still remember how I silenced Virgil for a month."

Remus snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Virgil, I remember how many times he gave us hallucinations. Sometimes he'd give us panic attacks for the hell of it!" He laughed.

"He was always quite the hothead."

"That's not even counting his stabs. Not just with a knife."

"Knowing you, that could mean anything."

Remus swooshed his hands in a rainbow-shaped gesture gleefully."Oooooh, whatever you want it to mean!" The joke was lacking and childish, but Remus' delivery was so goofy.

Deceit chuckled, back of his hand pressed daintily to his mouth as always. Remus giggled in short bursts of high-pitched derangement along with him.

Then it dissolved into awkward silence as they pondered their situation, up at ass o' clock in the morning, sprawled over the couch in undignified manners, dim light flickering because they were too depressed to fix it, talking about unreasonable hostile behavior so casually like they were fond memories of family vacations.

"... let's go make breakfast."

"Okay, Caution Ramen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hazard Spaghetti. Murder Spagurder."

"...what."

"Judgemental Shoelace."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

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

"No! Get away!" The sobbing figure cowered away from the green and yellow-tinted Sides, if you could call them that.

Bad Thoughts put his hands out. "Woah, woah, hey, we won't hurt you! Much."

Deceit slapped Bad Thoughts as the Side, who was slowly fading into a full black and purple from the legs up, put his hands in his hair and screamed louder. "Shut up! Go away! I'm sorry! Please! I hate you! Go away!"

"Well that's a lot of mixed signals." Bad Thoughts muttered. Careful looked a lot different from what he had remembered. He was seeming more tired and grievous. A faint spark of recognition flashed across Careful's eyes when he peeked up at him, but ducked away when Bad Thoughts stretched the arm with his morning star.

Without a word, Deceit knelt down and wrapped his arms around Careful. He flinched, but he stopped sobbing at least. He was still breathing hard when BT decided to join in, planting himself as softly as he knew how to on Caution.

"You're okay," Deceit murmured. "You're alright. You won't hurt anyone. You won't do that."

Caution hiccupped, staring at the ceiling, eyes brimming with angry tears. He hissed though gritted teeth."How--how do you know? You don't understand, I cause so many problems--"

"Yeah, we do. We know that. But that's you." Remus said. "Who cares if you do? Causing problems is what we do around here. You can't blame yourself for doing what you do best."

Caution was still dubious. He was sniffling. Slowly, he put his arms on Deceit's back. "I don't want to make more trouble."

Deceit lowered his head onto his shoulder. "Just come with us. We cause trouble, but whether you want to do that is up to you."

The black was receding, but the purple still lingered a little. All four of Caution's eyes blinked.

Remus pulled away, leaving only his hand on Careful's shoulder. His old friend, who didn't know who he was, who was meeting him for the first time. "Besides, I don't think you meant to cause that breakdown."

Caution finally turned and looked, actually looked at him for the first time since they were children. "You don't?"

"Nope!"

The purple color was down to his knees again. The black was gone.

"But," Caution started, both Sides pulling back to give him space. "But, it was so unnecessary, and--and the whole damn class was watching, and the other sides were freaked out-"

"Yeah, so? It was cool! Don't you think it's some way of letting everyone know that Thomas was upset? Things were getting hairy and you pulled it off perfectly." Remus gave an exaggerated chef's kiss in the air.

"That power is something only you hold, storm cloud." Deceit said. "Like Remus said, it's who you are. It was quite the display."

Caution eyed them suspiciously. "Yeah, well, you guys would think so."

"Don't you see? If you come with us, you can learn to control that! You can choose your own rules, you can choose when you want to have influence over Thomas!" Deceit lowered his voice. "You can protect Thomas by forcing the others to hear how much you try."

Caution didn't make eye contact, finding it difficult when two people stared at once. But he was thinking about it, clearly. The others had been trying to ignore him lately, and no one had to be a genius to figure that out. The rise and fall of his chest grew a little quicker as he realized how unfair it was that he was just trying to be a Side, and Thomas didn't care. The spite and betrayal was evident in his eyes, the same that had plagued Bad Thoughts and Deceit so many times in their childhood.

It was decided.

He looked up with grim determination. "C-call me Fear."

Previous parts here and here

Claustrophobic Remus post here

[rayshippouuchiha]

Can I be honest?

Ao3 actually kept me from harm BECAUSE it hosted darker content that is well tagged.

Let me explain. I started my fanfiction days pretty young and in ff.net no less. I loved reading and I was curious. First thing I learned before going on the internet was from my father (the internet is not for kids, stay sharp, you going into an adult place, act like it). I was very careful but I was still curious.

So, I started small, but because of the ff.net tag mess I did get burned. A few times. Sudden violence, amputations, sex scenes (god i remember the lemon scale bs, as if i understood it in the first place) (this was before the purge). This was because all the well written fics were mostly in the M rating but had no specific tags so I had no idea if the M was for torture, cursing, or god knows what, I couldn't filter out anything.

Some of those things I still remember, they left a mark in a way, but that wasn't the writer's fault because they couldn't tag and I ignored the author note sections because most of the time it was just rambles of the author talking with the characters self-insert style or about their real life problems, how was I supposed to find a warning in that kind of mess? And that's on me.

In that period I kinda got introduced to sex, a thing that wasn't talked about around me in real life. I was already a bit older, so I read it no problem. Then got introduced to kinks and found them interesting.

That's where Ao3 comes in. I found it when looking at fic recs and saw a new internet address instead of ff.net. For me, it was the holy grail. I was still a young curious teen girl but suddenly had access to a whole library of cool shit. I read a lot of mainstream fics and switched between fandoms like a deck of cards. Then, I saw the E rating. I was interested and clicked. Clicked through the adult content warnings like a true kid lying about their age on the internet.

I saw tags galore! Now, for the first time I was, in a way, safe while exploring dark stuff. Because one fic on the same page was tagged underage (the characters were my age at the time) and was E, while a whole other E fic on the same page was graphic torture case fic and worse. And it was all tagged.

So there I went, looking at fic, going hmmm and deciding: oh that's interesting, ew no, oh that's gross, huh i wonder what that is, this sounds good, oh i love this, uhhhhh hmm should I risk it, OH HELL NO.

And that's the thing! I knew what I was reading! I could experiment with kinks and dark things in a completely safe environment of the fantasy world!

Ao3 in a way saved me from talking about these things with others and accidentaly falling into an actual predator's hands (think student/teacher dynamic, grooming), because my curiosity wasn't going away, I still would have looked sooner or later, and if it wasn't for the no-interaction interface of Ao3 (a story can't kidnap or molest you), I could have been hurt.

Like yeah, no shit, I know I'm lucky that my brain didn't get actual trauma from textual depictions of dark stuff I stumbled on in my early days, but what I did get was more valuable than the risk of trauma (also, you can't get trauma from a tag, but you could from the text that has the tag, so the reader is still the one responsible, they were warned what was inside the box and still opened it).

I got boundaries, squicks, hard no's, absolute limits, whatever people call them these days. I now know what I can deal with and what I can't. I know myself better and could now fight against a person trying to bend or break them. I read dark shit so I know what kind of emotions I get from them and in what circumstances (what I like in text pretty much never carries into real life (even the mild things like biting), surprise).

But purity police would look at my Ao3 history and scream their head off about how I'm a deviant roaming free to attack people like a rabid dog, because obviously I must secretly wish to do that in real life!

And then if they met me they would get the confusion of a lifetime! They would have this image of a sexual deviant/old as fuck creeper/freak and then see me, a 21 year old woman, a well adjusted and social individual who has NEVER and will NEVER hurt a fly, eating chips in bed and reading fucked up shit about fictional characters for entertainment.

Because that's the difference. It's not the average people reading fucked up shit that are dangerous to the public, it's the people who already were fucked in the head before reading anything. No story on this Earth can force you to commit a crime unless you already wanted to do it and were just looking for an excuse.

Case in point, the Dexter inspired murders ("it wasn't me it was the book, I am innocent, it was the evil book, as such I am not to blame, blame the author!") and the NUMEROUS video game related murders (oh no it's not the parent's fault they bought their unstable child a 18+ rated game, it's the game's/creator's fault!"

Fiction and Reality coexist and influence each other in various ways (propaganda, misinformation, stereotypes, false data), but not like this.

And do you guys know why? Because we have an instinctive moral compass, we know right from wrong, and anyone fooling themselves thinking "I would have never done that if this [media] didn't tell/force me to do it" are in fact lying. Again, they would have done it eventually or even wanted to do it already, they just found a viable excuse now, all free to use as a "get out of jail free" card.

Sorry for the long ask and for my English (non-native speaker), you can ignore this, I won't mind. Just got a bit ticked off at people blaming writers for shit they didn't do. So here is my perspective from a long time reader's point of view.

If all these works didn't make me into a monster after all this time reading, then maybe, just maybe, it's not the works' fault.

You bring up absolutely wonderful and important points darling. Thank you for sharing.

And your English is fantastic so don’t worry about it.

[thisdancingheart]

Remember YFIP?

My Year of Grief and Cancellation

What was I trying to accomplish with my anonymous Tumblr?

By Liat Kaplan Feb. 25, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ET https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/25/style/your-fave-is-problematic-tumblr.html

If you were on Tumblr in the early 2010s, you may remember a blog called Your Fave Is Problematic. If not, its content should still sound familiar to you. The posts contained long lists of celebrities’ regrettable (racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, ethnophobic, ableist and so on) statements and actions — the stuff that gets people canceled these days.

That blog was my blog. I spent hours researching each post; as you can probably imagine, my search history was pretty ugly.

Your Fave Is Problematic had around 50,000 followers at its peak, in 2014, when I was a high school senior, but its influence was outsized. I got in a feud with a prominent young adult fiction author over his inclusion. One actor submitted himself, perhaps as a dare (or a plea) to dig up his worst. “Problematic fave” became a well-worn meme; even after I stopped posting, my blog was cited in books, articles, podcasts and think pieces. Through it all, my identity stayed private.

The blog started, as so many anonymous online projects do, as vengeful public shaming masquerading as social criticism. I was fine-tuning my moral compass and coming into my own as a feminist. So when I noticed classmates making sexist jokes on Facebook, including some about me, I started taking screenshots to post on a Tumblr called Calling Out Sexists. My policy was that I would take down a post only if its author publicly apologized.

A group of students brought the blog to the attention of our school’s administrators, who threatened to take legal action if I continued to write about them. Meanwhile, other Tumblr users had begun submitting screenshots featuring statements from minor celebrities. With graduation hanging in the balance, I shifted my focus away from my peers and toward public figures. I rebranded. Money and fame had protected them since time immemorial. What harm could my little blog do?

So I posted photos of Lady Gaga in V magazine with her skin bronzed to an unnatural brown. I pulled out troubling quotes from an essay Lena Dunham had written about a trip to Japan. I noted Taylor Swift’s since-changed homophobic lyric in “Picture to Burn.” My most popular posts tended to be about women — which makes sense, because the celebrity press tends to be more critical of them.

As it turned out, I had bigger things to worry about than dissecting the careers of celebrities I’d never met. On a winter morning, I woke up to the news that my older sister, Tamar, who was studying in Bolivia, had been in a bus crash, and the outlook was not good. I pored over research to escape from what felt like an impossible situation: my sister slowly dying of treatable injuries in a rural area thousands of miles away.

We held a public memorial service for Tamar in our hometown. Some of my classmates showed up, including a few who had written nasty things about me online. I found their shows of kindness insulting now, during what was quickly becoming the worst year of my life.

I tried going back to school after a few weeks, but I found myself picking frequent arguments with classmates and teachers. The school made an arrangement with my parents: I would be placed on “medical leave” for the remainder of the semester. I would graduate on time, but I wouldn’t return to campus.

Stuck at home, I devoted myself to Tumblr. What was I trying to accomplish? Mostly, I was interested in knocking people off their pedestals. I also enjoyed being popular, controversial, discussed. When a comedian I had posted about name-checked my blog on Twitter, I was giddy.

Then I started receiving threats. Someone sent me a screenshot of a house from Google Maps, claiming to have found my IP address. It wasn’t my house, but still. I realized that for every person on Tumblr who looked up to my blog, there were many more, online and offline, who hated it — and me. I started posting less and, eventually, stopped posting at all.

In the years since, I’ve looked back on my blog with shame and regret — about my pettiness, my motivating rage, my hard-and-fast assumptions that people were either good or bad. Who was I to lump together known misogynists with people who got tattoos in languages they didn’t speak? I just wanted to see someone face consequences; no one who’d hurt me ever had.

There’s something almost quaint about it all now: teenage me, teaching myself about social justice on Tumblr while also posturing as an authority on that very subject, thinking I was making a difference while engaging in a bit of schadenfreude. Meanwhile, other movements — local, global, unified in their purposes and rooted in progressive philosophies — were organizing for actual justice. Looking back, I was more of a cop than a social justice warrior, as people on Tumblr had come to think of me.

These days, there’s no shortage of online accountability efforts, the large part of them anonymously run. Some accounts post typically anodyne but occasionally explosive celebrity gossip. Others are explicitly aimed at naming, shaming and punishing people for all kinds of actions and missteps. My own work fell somewhere in the middle, I think; the information I posted was out in the open, but I was cataloging it to make a case against the veneration of the rich and famous.

As many have noted, the coronavirus pandemic has pronounced the distance between celebrities and the rest of us. And their actions have been subject to greater scrutiny — the vacations they’ve gone on, the parties they’ve held, the access they’ve had to testing and care during a health crisis that has taken millions of lives.

But celebrity culture began to crumble long before Covid-19. Mounting accusations of many kinds, whispered between industry professionals, had become too loud to ignore. Social media, which gave celebrities more control over their images and influence over their fans, also opened them up to new kinds of criticism. People have lost jobs and entire careers because of the kinds of errors my blog cited. Others have apologized for work and behavior that, re-examined in a contemporary context, just doesn’t hold up.

For years, I’ve regretted the spotlight I put on other people’s mistakes, as if one day I wouldn’t make plenty of my own. There can be an unsparing purity to growing into one’s social conscience that is often overbroad.

My brain wasn’t ready for nuance. I was angered by hypocrisy and cruelty; what I did about it was apply a level of scrutiny that left no room for error. I’m not saying that I should be canceled for my teenage blog. (Please don't!) I just know what we all should know by now: that no one who has lived publicly, online or off, has a spotless record.

For these reasons, I’ve thought about deleting my Tumblr. But doing that would mean erasing my own errors of judgment. I almost feel like I need to leave it up to punish myself for having made it in the first place. That, and I know someone could (and probably would) just pull it up on Wayback Machine. The internet, after all, never forgets.

~~~~~~~

[sor-vette]

four, circus!! (index/description)

☜ three, an all-out fight club!!

☞ five, dots!!

t/w: dead bodies, mention of overdose

"This has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Yoongi thinks to himself as he blankly stares at Jimin, transferring the PPT file to the projector.

123 slides in "Reasonable arguments as to why we should date, _̵͚̾͌_̶̢̛̘̅͛̕_̶̡̧̝͗̒̋̌̚_̴̮̒̍̿̃͠ .

"Wrong PowerPoint bro," Jungkook grunts with closed eyes. No doubt the idiot had tried to stalk you throughout the night. It's been three days since Erik had officially enrolled.

Namjoon also has his eyes fixed on the projector, his expression giving nothing away.

"Resigned to death, poor bastard, as you should."

Jimin momentarily looks behind him to see why Jin had started to snort in laughter before scrambling to choose another file.

56 slides in "What do we know about Erik and what to do about it?"

"The title could be less verbose," Jin remarks, spinning his chair around the room.

"You're one to talk, literally," Jimin sneers but, there is very little malice in his voice if any. Besides Namjoon, V and Hope, who actually stuck to his word of minding his business, Yoongi didn't know anyone personally in the room. Though he sure has heard of the connections they had with you. Each weirder than the other.

Namjoon, the CEO, the one who went overboard in commitment and scared you off. Rumour was he offered marriage before the first "I like you." But that as well could be bullshit.

Hope, with the most cordial contact out of all. And also the most distant. You two had fundamentally different perceptions of how the world worked. Incompatible match, as the saying goes.

Jin. Despite the grandeur of his character, Yoongi knew very little of him. Even less as to why you left. He presumed the lack of commitment on both sides.

Jimin, the almost. For five months Yoongi had to hear nothing but coy whispers of just what good friends you two were. What good time you both had jumping back and forth from Paris and home. And then with zero explanation, you weren't. Every once in a while, he'd see the two of you in the hallway. Working hard to suffer through an exchange of pleasantries between long awkward pauses. The whispers had been effectively stomped to death, with no one the wiser as to what the hell had happened.

V, the one you hated and the one who hated you. How the two of you even met was beyond anyone's understanding. How you didn't rip each other's throat out even more so. Why he was here? God only knew.

And the last one, JK. Your trainee before Erik. The one who'd shamelessly bounced, leaving you in the dust when the enrollment came with a nary of thank you. After that, you officially joined the cleaner department and largely went missing from the public eye.

And, of course, Yoongi himself. The only official boyfriend. The one who officially broke both of your hearts.

"If all of you could please focus!" Jimin snapped, standing with a wad of paper in hand, waving it like a teacher in front of particularly annoying group of students.

"He even made notes," Namjoon whispered faintly.

"More like a manifesto," Yoongi snickered, letting his eyes wander over the sheer thickness of the file.

"Silence!" For a split second, Yoongi wanted to make a jab about a chihuahua being able to bark, but having considered his own height, he chose to be silent.

"So, let's start with basics. Erik Genyer. Joined two and a half years ago through a recruitment agent. He's 24, lived in Seattle before moving here. No known parents or siblings." Jimin recounted with ease.

"I hope you didn't look through his records," Namjoon frowned at the screen. "Because I did not authorize that."

"Does it count as looking if it's a brief glance?"

"Yes."

"And yet here you are benefitting from it." Namjoon could only breathe through his nose a tad harder.

"Why are you telling us this?" Jin interjected. "Mr CEO here could just give us his file - we'd read for ourselves."

"I will not. That's against company policy."

"And what you're doing here is completely legal and non - invasive." Jin raised his eyebrows, not phased even in the slightest that he was much below Namjoon's position.

"Silence!" Jimin yelped again at the front. "Has anyone here worked with Erik?"

"Hope definitely has," V piped up from his seat, looking as uninterested as one could. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him. V took the piercing glare in stride, haughtily turning away.

"Well, yes but..." Jimin shuffled on the stage almost awkwardly. "He has strictly declined the invitation to our little... boy band."

"Wait does that mean he could tell _̸̢͉̦͔̣͈̱̅́́̓͊̇̂̓́̕͝ͅ_̸̨̙͚̻̬͖͉̻͔̑̓͐͜ - I mean R.D.?" Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes wide. Even Yoongi blanched at the thought. Everyone straightened in their seats. This was all fun and games until the moment you knew. Oh, you'd rip each and every one of them a new asshole. All of them could kiss goodbye to any attempt of trying to mend bridges. By that point, there wouldn't even be a river stretching underneath.

"I sincerely hope not." Jimin whispers and they sit in a moment of silence, weighing the risks.

"Heh, hope not." Jin suddenly gives a breathy laugh solely to be met by a general aura of disapproval.

"It's not funny." Namjoon scolds slightly but, Jin being Jin, openly looks him into eyes and goes -

"I know."

Amidst the banter, JK raises his hand shyly.

"I trained with him for a short while."

"And what is he like?" Jimin's eyes almost sparkled at anyone giving an actual insight.

"He must be wearing contacts or something," Yoongi mused, pushing the cap of his water bottle around the table. He knew Jimin to be attractive. No one in the entire company would shut up about it, nevertheless, something about him seemed almost supernatural.

JK shrugged in response.

"A bit rude and careless but talented. He finished training early."

"Did it seem like he was particularly going after her?" Namjoon interrogated further. There was a deep scowl of resentment on his face.

"Uhh, no. I think he was interested in the cleaner department in general. Apparently, he spent most of his orientation there."

"He also spent a month in surveillance. Did you speak with him...V?" If V was surprised by Jimin addressing him personally, he didn't show it as he continued to inspect his nails.

"Didn't even know he was there."

"Why did he stay so long in the cleaner department?" Yoongi asked as he ran over the information on the screen. Besides the already mentioned month in surveillance and a week in networking and relations, this Erik hadn't even tried to apply anywhere else.

"Poor communication skills. I had to throw him out. That's why he was only there a week." Jin explained.

"So you spoke to him?"

"Well, no, Irina," he was interrupted by a hollow thud. Without prompt V had dropped his steel thermos onto the desk, tea splattering everywhere and staining JK's jacket in the process. Both of them fumbled to clean it up with anything they could. V dabbed the desk harshly, the wood creeking at every aggressive wipe. Yoongi saw Jin looking sideways, the same confused expression echoed on his face.

"Well, as I was saying, Irina, R.D.'s friend, I'm sure you're familiar, came to me, said he was causing trouble and asked to refer him."

"And you sent him to R.D.?"

Jin gave a deeply suffering sigh.

"No, I did not send him. I referred him to general management and they gave him to the cleaners ."

"Ok, I get all of this. But what are we supposed to do about him?" Namjoon interrupted, jaw set in a tight grip.

Jimin fell silent at the front of the room.

"Yeah, this was the main question." Yoongi thought bitterly.

It was all a question of ethics, wasn't it? JK could pretend all he wanted to be above it all, to be respectful but then he trailed secret circles around you. Whether from guilt or perhaps a sense of entitlement. Yoongi didn't know or really care. Nevertheless the kid clearly had a hard time differentiating between what he said and what he did. Yoongi was however surprised to see Namjoon be so eager. He quite fancied making himself bald from worrying about the nature of evil. Just how easy it was to hide it behind big aspirations of providing aid. But it seemed as of late all of that was tossed aside.

Jimin was the one who orchestrated this in the first place, and so naturally, everyone looked at him for guidance. He was still shuffling around, nervously fiddling the blue pen.

"Well, first of all, I think we should talk more to R.D." A huff passed around the room.

"Talk to her?" V asked sceptically, mouth set in a straight line and heavy wrinkles carved between brows.

"Do you have any idea how difficult that would be?"

"Certainly it would be for you," Yoongi snarled, earning a harsh glare.

"Listen, at the end of the day, it's not really about us trying to force her into something. It's just to make sure... she's living a safe life. Well, the safest that's possible." Jimin said with enough sincerity to trigger certain insecurities within Yoongi and by the look of it also Namjoon.

It was no secret that between the seven, they were the most possessive over you. Both having the wrong idea that you were theirs. Which is why you left and why you probably were so caught up in Jimin. The purity and sheer selflessness of his sentiments acted like a punch to the gut. The genuine care that he reflected like a sun made the raw wound in Yoongi's chest seep even more. To be loved like that would be a dream come true. Yoongi shifted his attention to the laminated floor.

"We talk to her, find out what her life is like, keep a close eye on what Erik does. Talk to other cleaners about him, and once we find out, she's happy. That's. The. End. Of. That." There was no uncertainty. Jimin was dead serious.

The meeting was adjourned, quite amicably actually, but Yoongi knew that the rest of them had ulterior motives and plans. He had them too.

Jin and JK were no threat. Both were too uncertain of what to do with you.

Jimin had some deep-seated self esteem issues. Despite his 123 slide presentation, the way he spoke made it clear. That's probably why the abrupt parting, Yoongi mused. Both of you most likely shared the same anxiety about not being good enough for the other.

V was just V.

Namjoon was the only one Yoongi was truly worried about. Even from looking at his back, walking headstrong up the stairs, Yoongi could see how stubborn Namjoon was. In a way, it was like looking in a mirror. The possessiveness, the mulish mindset. They'd saw you, all of you and had decided that this was it. Yes, Namjoon would certainly be the toughest rival. However, Yoongi was very good at playing the long game. Especially if he wanted something so bad it felt like his thorax slowly being ripped out.

All that was left was Hope. But he wasn't even a viable player. After all, he hadn't even shown up.

***

"Why the fuck is he so heavy?" Erik grunted, swaying left and right and holding onto his dear life to the bagged pair of legs.

"Rigor mortis...set in," you huffed in answer, from the upfront of the body. "At least he wasn't rotting already. That's just nasty. 1, 2, 3."

Both of you lift the body into the van and let the poor bastard drop with a soft thud. Sweat pooled underneath your white hazmat suit with plastic glasses digging straight into your brain. You banged hard against the "EMT" van, and it drove away, carrying Dr. Martin Leyster to the morgue.

Should the neighbours see anything, it was a sad story of a depressed psychiatrist accidentally overdosing on his own meds. The evidence of him manipulating his most vulnerable patients into bankruptcy erased in you any stray feelings of sympathy though.

"You have the peroxide?" You rifled through the cleanup bag, but instead of answering, Erik began to actively point somewhere behind your back. A cold chill ran up your spine as you realize someone has been watching you stuff the body in the trunk. It quickly dissipates when you see a familiar smile.

"Hard at work, I see," Hope whistled, bounding towards you more like a kid on a school trip, rather than what the reality was.

"May I borrow your mentor for a bit?" He asked politely, still smiling up at Erik. There was no warmth in his expression.

"You are after all now an official member of the cleaner crew. Surely you can handle this on your own."

Erik looks at you for a moment before giving a loud sigh and trudging back to Leyster's office, the white toolbox angrily swishing back and forth in his hand.

Without hesitation, you remove the glasses from your head, revelling in the ease of pressure. Hope had stopped smiling altogether, looking quite pensive.

"What brings you here?" You ask lightly. To see him here is not worrying per se, but certainly interesting. He gives a quick shrug.

"Nothing much. Wanted to see how you were doing after that runt's little stunt." You only laugh at the shallow animosity. Erik's talent to drive people out of their patience was truly remarkable.

"I'm doing fine. You know... working. What about you?"

"I've been working as well."

You both fall silent.

"You ever thought about leaving the BH?" He suddenly asked, and you quirk a brow at the question.

"Not particularly. Have you?" Hope focuses a blank gaze at the grey walls of the multi-story apartment complex.

"A little bit. Last few days especially." You stand in muted shock. Hope was the last person you thought would quit. He was, without doubt, the most devoted, the most passionate out of all the hundreds of employees. He lived for the cause, he himself said so. And yet now he stood uncertain in front of you. Not really the bright and friendly Hope everyone knew, not really the strict and somewhat terrifying training teacher. He was just...quiet. It was an upsetting scene.

"Do you want to go for a drink or a lunch, maybe?" You offer, reaching for the zipper of the white suit. Yes, Erik could handle this on his own. He was a big boy. Hope hastily placed his hand atop of yours, pausing the movement. Even through the fabric, it radiated warmth. No wonder people called him sun. He frowned at the conjoined hands, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles before lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"No, no. I don't want to burden you with my problems." You didn't believe his smile for a second.

"Well, I won't steal you away for much longer, the pup might get anxious." He turned around, by the looks of ready to sprint off.

"Hey, wait!" He paused, not looking back.

"Do you why JK has been stalking me?"

"He has?"

He had. The first time you noticed a shifting figure in the background, you wrote it off to the combination of hangover and exhaustion. The second time he'd run off into the night faster than you could catch up. The third time you nearly flung yourself off the roof when seeing a pair of doe eyes staring back at you from an empty apartment building.

"There isn't like an alliance going around between some of my... acquaintances?" Truth be told, you found the very idea ridiculous, but it had wormed its ugly way into your brain and was now near impossible to get out. JK, Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon wouldn't even get along with each other. Even though those four were most likely to meddle in your business. However, if looking realistically, it was probably just your paranoia taking an intensive round. Seeing suspicious cars, watchful eyes and snooping noses where there were none. Hope threw you a sardonic smile.

"That would just be stupid."

(a/n)

In this story people have their names and codenames and will be often used interchangeably. It all depends whether in the story the POV character knows the names of others or not.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #97: Nightingale

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making everyone’s favorite medical practitioner and biting enthusiast, Florence Nightingale! The good Ms. Flo is the most skilled nurse in Chaldea, with a variety of techniques to deal with disease and ill health on and off the battlefield. She’s not afraid to use them, so try not to get sick.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: RUN! It’s a creature legally distinct from Godzilla!

Race and Background

Nightingale’s a Human, and the variant version gives her +1 Wisdom and Charisma, as well as Insight proficiency and the Crossbow Expert feat. Some settings allow for pistols, but some don’t, and we’re playing it safe here. That feat means you can attack multiple times in a turn with a crossbow, attack within melee range without disadvantage, and if you’re holding a crossbow in your off hand and another weapon in your main hand, you can attack with the weapon as an action and the crossbow as a bonus action.

Nightingale might be a nurse, but she spent most of her time patching up wounds in the army, and the Soldier background gives her proficiency with Athletics and Intimidation, both things she pretty good at.

Ability Scores

Make sure your Wisdom is as high as possible for the best medicine checks and spellcasting. Make your Dexterity the second highest to multiclassing, damage, and to keep your AC up (that’s not exactly heavy armor). Your Charisma is next, you can be “persuasive” when you want to be. And by that I mean you’re terrifying. You may be pretty lucid, but you’re still a berserker; that means you’re hard to take down, and that means your Constitution should be next. Your Strength is pretty low. We don’t need it, but you’re still a berserker, so we’re dropping Intelligence instead. You don’t really care about topics other than medicine, so it’s not like you’ll be using it that much.

Class Levels

1. Cleric 1: Shockingly, the nurse is a Cleric. However, you know the best way to avoid infections to kill anything that could infect you, which definitely makes you more of a War cleric than a life one. As a war cleric, you start out proficient in martial weapons, which means we don’t have to jump through hoops to get your hand crossbow like we did with Shirou’s weapon. You’re also a War Priest, meaning a number of times per day equal to your wisdom modifier you can attack as a bonus action after attacking with your main action. This means you can still have two attacks per turn without having to dual wield like your feat wants you to.

You also learn Spells that you can cast and prepare using your Wisdom. You also get Domain Spells, which always count as prepared and you don’t have to spend prep time getting, like Divine Favor and Shield of Faith. The former makes your gun run a little hotter with radiant damage for up to a minute, and the latter gives a creature extra combat awareness, boosting their AC for up to 10 minutes.

You can also prepare spells outside your domain; healing spells are an obvious choice, but you should also check out Detect Poison and Disease and Purify food and Drink to make sure you have some antidotes on you.

Finally, you also get cantrips. Guidance adds 1d4 to an ability score, so long as they follow your directions for fluids and bedrest. Mending puts two things back together (it’s intended for nonliving things, but I’m sure it works fine on limbs too). Spare the Dying is what you’re actually supposed to use when people’s limbs come off, stabilizing creatures at 0 hp so they don’t have to worry about death saves.

2. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity, either Turning Undead to make those that fail a wisdom save of DC 8 plus your wisdom modifier plus your proficiency, or making a Guided Strike, adding 10 to your attack roll. Some times the most effective way to end a disease is to end the person it’s afflicting.

3. Cleric 3: At third level you get second level spells, like Magic Weapon and Spiritual Weapon. Despite the similar names, the former improves your existing weapon a bit and makes it magical to avoid resistances, and the latter makes a brand new weapon that you control as a bonus action each turn. Along with your domain spells, you also get the performance enhancing drug Enhance Ability, the tranquilizer Hold Person, and more Protection from Poison.

4. Cleric 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a Healer. Now when you stabilize a creature using a healer’s kit they regain 1 HP, and you can spend a use of a healers kit to heal a creature for 1d6+4 HP, plus an extra amount of HP equal to their maximum number of hit dice. This healing can only be done once per short rest for each creature. Doctors gonna doctor.

Also grab Thaumaturgy so your Angel’s Yell can carry further.

5. Fighter 1: Bouncing over to fighter gives you a fighting style, like Unarmed Fighting, which gives you unarmed attacks that deal bludgeoning damage, but more so if you’re not holding your crossbow at the same time. Guns are nice, but sometimes you’ll have to get physical. You also gain a Second Wind, letting you heal yourself as a bonus action. This means you can save your regular materials for your party members.

6. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get an Action Surge, making it a lot easier to heal and shoot people at the same time once per short rest by adding an extra action to your turn.

7. Fighter 3: Grab the Banneret as your subclass to gain a Rallying Cry. Now using your Second Wind also heals your party members for a little bit as well! It’s not much compared to healing spells, but sometimes you run out of slots.

8. Cleric 5: Back in cleric now, your Turn Undead becomes Destroy Undead, instantly killing any undead monsters with a CR of less than 1/2 when they fail their save. You also get third level spells like Crusader’s Mantle and Spirit Guardians. The former causes everyone’s guns to run hot with radiant damage even if they’re using a sword, and the latter summons a couple angelic guards to protect your patients. If you find yourself in a lot of close-quarters combat, you can also use Spirit Shroud for some extra enemy control and damage.

9. Cleric 6: At sixth level you can Channel Divinity twice per short rest, and gain an new option to do so. You can bestow your War God’s Blessing on nearby creatures, spending your reaction to add 10 to their attack roll.

10 Cleric 7: Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like your domain spells Freedom of Movement and Stoneskin. The former helps you gnaw off your arm like a rabid coyote to escape capture, and the latter gives you all the relevant benefits of raging without stopping you from casting spells. By that, I mean it gives a creature resistance to nonmagical physical damage types. But you’ll have plenty of competition for your concentration, because you can also cast Aura of Life and Aura of Purity this level. One gives creatures in it resistance to necrotic damage and instantly revives non-hostile creatures who’ve been downed, and the other prevents diseases, weakens poisons, and empowers your party against most status effects.

11. Cleric 8: At this level, you can finally use an ASI to improve an ability score, bumping up your Wisdom for better healing and more bonus action attacks. Your Destroy Undead also bumps up to CR 1, and your Divine Strike makes your weapon attacks a little stronger once per turn. Turns out guns are stronger than crossbows, who knew?

12. Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get fifth level spells. Flame Strike can be one of those neat little bottle-shaped grenades, and you also get Hold Monster for an even stronger tranquilizer. Beyond that and some healing spells, there isn’t really much at fifth level that screams Nightingale to me, but feel free to play it by ear.

13. Cleric 10: At tenth level you can use Divine Intervention to ask God for a bit of assistance in keeping your dumbass party alive. You can use this once per long rest, but also have to wait a week after it succeeds. Since you’re a full level of spells behind regular spellcasters right now, calling in a favor from time to time might come in handy.

You also pick up your last cantrip; Toll the Dead is another solid way to finish off diseased or injured enemies before they can spread whatever’s affecting them to the party, dealing more damage to creatures who are missing HP.

14. Cleric 11: Eleventh level clerics get sixth level spells, and like last time there’s not much specifically at this level that caught my eye. But that’s only if you’re playing the character religiously close to canon, and you probably shouldn’t be if you want to jive with the rest of the party. Or maybe you’re all playing expies of other characters, idk live your life.

15. Cleric 12: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for better gunplay and AC.

16. Cleric 13: Now you have seventh level spells, and unlike the last few levels, there’s spell outside of your usual healing you might want to check out. Temple of the Gods. lets you build your own temple within a cube of 120′. It lasts 24 hours per cast, but casting it once per day for a year in the same spot makes it permanent. Inside the temple, extraplanar entities can be kept out of it if they fail a charisma save, and they also get 1d4 subtracted from their attacks, checks, and saves while inside. The temple is immune to divinations spells, and the temple also boosts the power of healing spells cast inside of it. Great for giving your keep it’s own medical wing.

17. Cleric 14: Fourteenth level clerics have a Destroy Undead that affects creatures of CR 3 or lower, and their Divine Strike becomes a little more powerful as well. You just learned how to build hospitals from nothing, not every level can be a massive leap forward.

18. Cleric 15: You pick up eighth level spells this level. By this level, most spells are a bit too flashy to fit into Nightingale’s toolkit, but Holy Aura still manages to do it. Creatures within 30′ of you glow, and get advantage on all saves. On top of that, attacking creatures have disadvantage, and fiends and undead have to make a constitution save or become blinded for the duration of the spell.

19. Cleric 16: Use your last ASI to bump up your Constitution for more HP and better concentration saves.

20. Cleric 17: At seventeenth level, your Destroy Undead gets even stronger, you get ninth level spells, and most importantly, you become an Avatar of Battle, granting you a permanent resistance to nonmagical weapons. Effectively, you’re always raging, but still have access to your spells.

Pros:

You’re something of a tough nut to crack, especially for a healer. You’ve got quite a bit of health for a cleric, ways to heal yourself and the party at the same time, and a sort of permanent rage damage resistance going on at the end of it.

Despite being a healer, you’re also pretty skilled in ranged combat, with plenty of ways to add more damage to your crossbow bolts. You might not have multiple attacks like most fighters, but you make your shots count. This also means you don’t have to be quite as deep in combat as your standard “mace and shield” cleric.

The healer feat and your Rallying Cry give you access to nonmagical healing. This is most likely to be a niche skill, but sometimes you’ll have to deal with anti-magic zones or low-magic settings, in which case you’ll still be able to shine.

Cons:

Despite us putting several levels and feats into making your crossbow good, you’ll still always have to deal with the fact that it’s nowhere near as strong as a fighter’s would be. It’s fine for emergencies, but you probably won’t be the standout damage dealer of the group.

Bumping over to fighter for a couple levels also prevents you from getting the Cleric capstone, and they have a really good one. Guaranteed divine intervention is nothing to sneeze at.

You don’t really wear armor, and you don’t get anything like monks or barbarians do to offset that fact, so if you’re playing to character your AC is abysmal. Like I said earlier though, feel free to put on a breastplate or something, there’s no wrong way to play D&D. Except for in person, and not wearing a mask.

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode 1: The shadow plan

Hello everyone! This is a new fic that I think you'll enjoy if you enjoy the summer camp fic! It picks up immediately after the anime, with of course a break for the host's to spend their summer holiday. It's not connected to the summer camp fic but has similar themes. Enjoy!

"So? Do we have a deal?"

Kyoya hummed in thought, slowly nodding at the woman on the other side of the screen. He'd spent a long time deliberating over this, months even, practically the entire summer holiday. It had been seeing his friends all happy and put together that pushed him to make this decision; if they can be so wonderful and happy then why couldn't he?

The woman nodded, a smirk playing on her lips. "And I'll get my company?"

"Of course, you'll be the primary advisor for him. Only after he becomes my husband, that is our deal." He clicks his pen and writes in his little notepad. "So that will be all hm?"

23:38 - Eclair has agreed to our deal, I will write up a contract soon to make sure there's no attempt at a breach of contract.

The woman- Eclair nodded, a vindictive smile on her face, an expression that sent shivers down Kyoya's spine. "Of course, Ootori. That's what we agreed on, not that I agree with your-" She looks him up and down, silently scoffing. "-lifestyle. But I do adore this plan of ours. Do tell me how you plan on seducing a taken man? Or did you forget about that little detail?"

Kyoya let a little growl at that, clenching his fists instinctively. "That's not for you to worry about, you're not exactly an example of purity in that regard, Eclair." He sighed, putting his note book down. "I will write up a contract for you, you'll see it soon. Au revoir, Eclair."

He ended the video call and sighed, flopping down onto his bed. God he felt awful going behind his friends like this- especially talking to Eclair of all people. But it had to be done, he simply couldn't take this kind of pain anymore. Something had to be done or he was literally going to lose his goddamn mind.

The first day back at school was going to be hell, Kyoya knew this from the moment the holidays had started, a month into the break he'd stopped agreeing to go on club outings with the group. He'd used so many excuses they'd even come to his house once to make sure he was alright. He felt so guilty for this, but he just couldn't do it- he wasn't strong enough. He'd definitely spiralled since the end of his second year- he barely had the strength to argue with his brother these days, Akito had begun to call him weekly to make sure he was alright, Akito never showed that much care.

The moment Kyoya woke up on Monday, he knew he had to get right to work. He sat at his vanity, staring into the cold, dead eyes that had viewed the world so coldly before the hosts came into his life. He sighs, it'll all go back to playing happy families once he does what he needs to. He's only hurting himself feeling guilt like this. He takes his little palette of makeup, making sure to hide any signs of tiredness or stress with concealer and foundation. He capitalised on the sharpness of his eyes with some eyeliner, only a hint of the lightest purple eyeshadow he could find and just a little bit of blush. He made sure to do his lips in a nice deep and dark plum shade, he'd only ever worn makeup twice before, but he knew a little from watching Fiyumi do her magic. Not to mention he'd done his research.

He had brought a small flask to school with him, just a little one, stolen from his father's office. It wasn't anything too strong, just some honey whiskey, he didn't even know what was in the flask until he'd taken a sip. He sighed heavily and stepped out of his limo and through the gates of the school, instantly there were eyes on him, he wasn't sure if it was because of his host status or his makeup. If it was the latter he couldn't care less if they judge him, they've seen him in worse.

He slowly made his way to his classroom, taking out his notebook to take notes on anything interesting he notices.

7:39 - Seika Ayanokoji has a new bag, likely bought for her by her father. It's one of the new lunar releases from the twins mother, I notice she doesn't appear to have the matching heels- but it's possible that she simply chose to not wear them to school. Further investigation will be needed.

7:43 - The one dubbed 'Princess Teacup' has been spotted on the phone with her fiancé, near the window opposite her classroom door. They're discussing his roommate owning a glass tea set, nothing too much of note, but the idea of a glass tea set sounds like something the club should invest in. I will discuss this with Tamaki.

7:50 - Kuze and his friends are blocking the corridor, he's bragging to his friends about something or other that his fiancée did for him over the holiday. Unfortunately I will have to go the long way around, I may even arrive after Tamaki does.

When he finally got to the classroom, Tamaki was already sitting there- just as Kyoya had predicted. Kyoya closed his eyes, bracing for whatever Tamaki may say- because he knows it's going to be extra. He's instantly proven right as Tamaki rushes at him, hugging him tightly and muttering words in both English and French, only settling back into Japanese when he's calmed down slightly. "Kyoya, Mon Ami! Are you alright?? Feeling better? Come on Kyoya, let's sit down."

He drags Kyoya over to their seats, staring at him in worry. He's clearly waiting for Kyoya to say something, but Kyoya just sighs- causing Tamaki to interrupt him before he could even begin to speak. "Kyoya, please speak to me… we were all so worried about you…" Yet they'd only elected to visit him once, only once over the entire summer holiday had they cared enough to come and check on him- even his brother cared more than that. Sure, Kyoya loved Tamaki with his entire heart, but he could still feel bitter and hurt for the neglect of the care Tamaki was trying to imply.

"Apologies, Tamaki." Kyoya didn't want to apologize, he had nothing to apologize for. But he knew he had to keep Tamaki happy, that was the most important thing here- keep the king happy. But for some reason this made Tamaki frown, guilt in his eyes. Kyoya didn't understand it, he'd stepped down from any argument that might arise, he'd let Tamaki's words hit without any fighting back, and Tamaki was sad?

"Why are you apologising?"

To placate you. That was what the truth was, but Kyoya knew he couldn't just say that. He sighed for the second time this morning, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "For the mild amount of concern I appear to have caused you and the others." It was honest, when they'd come to visit that one time- Kyoya had gotten angry at them; how dare they care when he is so unable.

Tamaki sighs, for one of the first times, he looks tired. "Alright Kyoya, just remember you can always talk to me. Alright?" Kyoya just nodded in response to that, taking out his notebook.

8:14 - Tamaki appears to be expressing worry towards me. He lies about the entire club worrying and seemed almost surprised when I chose to apologize in order to placate him.

Up in the club room, they were getting ready for the first session of the year. When each club member walked in, the first thing they did was ask Kyoya if he was feeling better, it was highly disorientating. But it wasn't until Haruhi walked straight up to him and said; "if you're having mental health issues, senpai- I can recommend a couple of resources," with a caring smile on her face, that Kyoya realised why they were being so considerate of his presence…. They were trying to show the care that Tamaki had implied, and Haruhi even had the nerve to assume she knew what Kyoya's problem was.

It was disgusting. How dare they care so much, where were they when he was actively spiralling? Off doing whatever nonsense they were up to. Now he actually had a plan to get what he's always wanted, they decide to care about him? They had two whole years to care, they don't get a third chance. Kyoya simply sat in silence when the others were doing their hosting, just writing his emails.

To: NekozawaUmehito@Gmail.com

Cc:

Subject: Meeting.

Nekozawa, I have a proposition for you. I would like to meet with you and some others in the second school hall at around 7 pm this Friday. I have some things to say that might interest you.

Until then,

Ootori Kyoya.

He sent almost identical emails to the head of the newspaper club, the head of the karate club and then began to write a version for a certain someone they'd met in the spring half term: Arai. Now Kyoya didn't know the guy's email, he didn't even know the guy's last name. But it only took an hour to find it, he knew enough about the guy after all.

To: Arai163@Gmail.com

Cc:

Subject: Meeting.

Hello Arai, you don't know me. I don't believe we've even spoken directly. But I'm one of Haruhi Fujioka's friends, the name's Kyoya. I'm writing to offer you a unique opportunity, especially for a commoner. At 7 pm Friday, you were invited to attend a private meeting in Ouran Academy's second hall. As well as myself, there will be three people in attendance. I do recommend you come, it will give you a huge opportunity you do not want to turn down.

Thank you very much,

Ootori Kyoya.

He knew he had to use gentler wording with the commoner, from what he'd seen, Arai is a softer gentleman, with just as much of a moral high horse as Haruhi. He in no way wanted to scare the boy off, he knew more business minded manners tended to catch commoners off guard. It was a lot more gentle with the commoner's email than with the others, for the others knew what he was like, and had no qualms with it. He sighed after sending the emails, leaning back in his chair slightly.

Of course the first day was fairly harmless, nothing truly important happened. But Kyoya did notice how Haruhi still wasn't completely affectionate with Tamaki, what an ungrateful girl.

13:27 - Haruhi doesn't deserve him. She refuses to give him the love he so deserves, she must be dealt with.

At the end of the day, Kyoya packed up his bag, kind of irritated that no one pointed out his immaculately done makeup, at least not to his face. The twins hopped over the moment he thought that, ready to say those exact words; "why are you wearing makeup? We've been wondering all day."

Oh that is wonderful, Kyoya felt pleased now, the idea that his little attempt at makeup had the club fashionistas pondering it the whole day was highly pleasing. Especially when Kaoru added on to what they'd said with; "you look really good by the way, is that violet eyeshadow or mauve and white?" Oh that might not have been who he was trying to get the attention of, but the fact he got someone's attention still cheered him up significantly.

"Actually it's magenta with some violet shimmer." He adjusted his glasses so they could see better. "I'm glad to hear you like it."

The twins nod, humming in approval. "Why are you wearing it though?" Hikaru repeats the question, the same question Kyoya had purposely avoided.

He sighed, moving his head slightly so the light glints off of his glasses. "Does it matter?"

"Considering that brand of lipstick is specifically marketed to attract people, I'd say it's curious you chose that one specifically." Kaoru spoke with a devious smile on his face, instantly hitting the nail on the head. Kyoya wasn't even sure how to proceed, they'd caught him already, and he was furious at that- can a boy not be wickedly homosexual in peace?

"Well is that really any of your business?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging the twins, did they really want to be that brave? Clearly they didn't, from the way they raised their hands in surrender and left the club room.

Kyoya let out a soft sigh of relief, his eyes drifting over towards Haruhi and Tamaki… they were cuddling on the chaise lounge, kissing occasionally too- not a care to the fact he was remaining in the room. He felt the rage growing in his core, he could just throttle that commoner.

16:30 - The happy couple are showing off their affections finally, it makes me sick how they care not for how I may judge them. I was under the impression Haruhi cared not for these frivolous affections.

[softboywriting]

Haven Port | Chapter Four | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Shawn and his pack have moved to your tiny town of Haven Port. You’ve never met werewolves other than your dad before and you’re infinitely curious. You may be only half werewolf but you and Shawn have a connection that will send you on a wild romantic journey in this small town you call home. [hybrid reader] [werewolf shawn]

Word Count: 2.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

You and Shawn stay up for hours talking about everything and nothing. You find out he has two brothers who have their own packs. You tell him about your dad and what it was like growing up in Haven Port. Shawn tells you about his parents and how they moved far into the Canadian wilderness when the pack he grew up in disbanded just two years ago. 

Around one in the morning you find yourself slipping into unconsciousness, laying with your head on Shawn's lap. It's easy to drift off when he is talking, voice soft and level as he strokes your hair and ears. You're not sure what he's talking about currently, you've been so out of it for several minutes now.

"Shawn?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Why don't some packs like hybrids?" 

"Genetic impurity." Shawn sighs heavily. "Some people think humans shouldn't be allowed to taint the bloodlines our people fought hard to keep alive. It's stupid really, because if we hadn't cross mated with humans we would all be dead by now. The ones who argue for purity disgust me because even they have human ancestors whether they want to acknowledge it or not."

"We're all mutts in the end." You yawn sleepily. "Such a stupid term." 

"Mutt?" Shawn brushes his thumb over your ear gently. "That's a terrible word. It's a pretty low blow to people who are hybrids like you."

"I've heard it before, I don't take it personally." 

"Someone called you that directly?" 

"In school. It's been a long time, and teenagers are mean."

Shawn hums. "I've only heard other werewolves call hybrids that, not human kids. Interesting."

"It's fine."

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Mmhmm." You close your eyes and he stills his hand in your hair. "Yeah?" 

"While you were distancing yourself, did you feel anything?" 

You peek one eye open and he's looking out across your room. "Feel something? Like what?" 

"Heartache." He looks down and his eyes meet yours. He looks overwhelmingly sad. "Sadness, longing, sleeplessness."

"Yeah, all of those things actually."

He closes his eyes and cradles your head against his stomach. Tears fall on your nose and forehead. 

"Shawn?" You reach up and touch his cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm relieved." He sniffs and wipes his face before taking a deep breath. "I was worried that you didn't feel the pull of a mate. I was scared I was wrong about us, that things were very onesided."

"The heartache and stuff is because we're mates?"

"Yes. When mates get separated without knowing they'll come back to each other, they will feel heartbroken and lethargic." Shawn twists his finger around your hair. "It's a bit extreme, but it's how mates work. We love very passionately."

You turn your face into his stomach. "I haven't been sleeping, and I've been so upset and vulnerable lately. It makes sense now. Did you feel like that? Was it really bad?" 

"I felt like I was going to fall apart. I was moody and angry. I didn't sleep, I went for late night runs instead. I tried to come see you at first but I couldn't find you and so I figured you didn't want to see me, which made things hurt more. I don't want to feel like that again."

"I'm sorry." You whimper, fingers curling into your bedspread. "I caused so much grief."

Shawn strokes you ear and brushes back your hair from your face. "Look at me," he says gently and you look up from where you've turned your face mostly into his stomach. "You didn't know. It wasn't intentional. You thought you were doing the right thing. I understand, and I forgive you."

You nod. 

Shawn leans back and you position yourself so you're laying against his side, head on his shoulder. A few minutes pass and you think of how you felt without him versus how it feels now. There is nothing like feeling comfortable, safe...loved. 

"Do you think the pack will try to get to know me?" You ask softly just as Shawn's breathing slows down as if he were going to sleep. 

"Yes." He mumbles.  

"What if they don't like me?"

"Then they can leave."

You look up and he's got his eyes closed. "But they're your pack. I can't come between you and them."

Shawn slides his hand up the back of your shirt and traces your spine tenderly. "You're my pack too. Everyone was new once. If they choose not to get along with you then they can choose to get along elsewhere. I'd expect the same if I brought in anyone else."

"You want me in the pack?" 

"How could I not? You're my mate, believe it or not, I have no plans to leave your side any time soon." 

You close your eyes and lay your hand over his heart. It beats steadily, and he brings his hand up to lay over it. "Thank you."

"For what?" 

"Coming to Haven Port. I thought I'd be alone with Parker until I died, then you walked into my shop and changed my whole world. So thank you."

He hums softly. "I was supposed to come here. It was meant to be, and I'm glad I did. I didn't expect to meet you but when I did I knew why I chose Haven Port."

"So you're saying it was fate?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I'm glad fate came through." 

"Me too." 

_____________________

Two days later and you go to Shawn's place for the second time. You're nervous, hands shaking as Shawn pulls into the driveway. It's reminiscent of the first visit, same time of evening and everything. 

Shawn reaches over and holds his hand out, palm up for you. "I've talked to them. There is no need to be nervous."

"Tell that to my gut. I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Please don't throw up." He threads his fingers between yours and brings your hand to his lips. "They respect me, they know what I expect from them."

"Okay. If...if I'm uncomfortable can I leave?" 

"Yes. Always."

The house is empty when you walk in. There is no one at the door, no one in the main room. There isn't so much as a peep from anyone or anything but the heater in the corner of the living room under the window. It's much less of a greeting than before and you're not sure if it's better or worse. 

"Guys! I'm home!" Shawn announces and walks up behind you, arm wrapping around your waist. "They're here somewhere."

Ryan jogs down the stairs and his steps falter when he sees you. "You brought company?" 

"No, I brought a member of the pack." Shawn says firmly. 

"Right, yeah. I forgot." Ryan looks up where Lindsay and Jo are both standing at the top of the staircase. "Shawn's home."

Jo turns and goes back to where ever she had come from. 

Lindsay walks down slowly until she's a step above Ryan. "Hey, long time no see."

You raise your hand in an awkward wave. "Yeah, I have been...uh...busy."

Shawn looks past the two of them and scowls. "What is Jo doing?" 

"I don't know?" Ryan shrugs and Lindsay shakes her head. 

Shawn releases his hold on you and pushes past the two wolves on the stairs to go find the youngest member of the pack. You're left alone, staring down two people you don't know how to approach. 

Ryan steps down until he's in front of you. "So, what do you do?" 

"I run a tea and coffee shop. I make gift baskets that I sell online." You pull a sample of a chamomile blend from your pocket. You brought some with you to hopefully give as peace offerings. "You can try one?" 

Ryan takes the bag from you and turns it over in his hands. "You made this?"

"Yeah, the flowers are from-" 

"Who cares." Lindsay says as she walks past and into the living room. 

You clench your jaw and look down as you feel yourself flush with anger. 

"Thanks." Ryan says and follows Lindsay, leaving you alone in the entryway. 

Shawn comes down the stairs and looks around for the other two. "Where'd they go?" 

"I don't know." You swallow thickly. "I don't care. I want to leave."

"What? What happened? I was gone for a minute." He holds your shoulders. "What happened?" 

"They don't like me Shawn. They don't even want to try to like me." You flatten your ears back and take a deep breath. "They hate me because I'm a hybrid. You said it yourself that their old pack didn't like hybrids. I'm pretty sure they didn't grow out of an idea that was ingrained in them as children." 

Shawn growls. "Lindsay! Ryan!" 

Both of the wolves appear and you go up the stairs to Shawn's bedroom. You don't want to be around when he lays into them. You don't want to be the center of attention. 

You take a seat in Shawn's room near the door.  No sooner than you get sat down then the door opens. It's Jo. She looks down and then closes the door behind her.  

"I'm sorry." She says softly. "I'm sorry I made fun of your ears and upset you. That was insensitive and rude. I thought because Lindsay and Ryan were talking about them it'd be okay, that it was just a joke, y'know? Looking back on it now I was so mean for no reason. I don't think your ears are weird or stupid. I'm so sorry I was a bitch." 

"O-oh. Thank you for apologizing." 

Jo sits down across from you. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah, but why would you want to tell me?" 

"Because it sort of involves you. The truth is that I was upset when Shawn brought you home." She picks at the rug under her legs, eyes focused on it instead of you. "I thought Shawn and I had a connection. I thought maybe because I'm a few years younger than him that was the reason he didn't want to pursue it. But I was wrong, I was jealous and angry." 

You remember what Ava told you, how she suspected this all along. "Oh, that must have been rough when you found out. I'm sorry."

"No, you don't have to be sorry." She looks up. "I made a mistake, I mistook feelings of brotherly love for the wrong thing. I-I should have gone with Peter probably."

"Peter?" 

"Shawn's brother, one of his brothers. He invited me to go with him, and I liked him too, but I chose Shawn." She scoffs. "Now I have no idea how to find Peter even if I did want to leave."

"Are you unhappy here?" 

"No. Well, sort of. I love Shawn to death and Ava is like a sister to me. It's just that without Shawn, I'm not sure if I'll ever find someone. I held on to the hope that he was the one for so long." Jo wipes her cheeks and you realize she's crying. "I played myself, I should have known. Now it just hurts."

You reach out and tentatively lay your hand on her leg. "You'll find someone, maybe Shawn knows how to get ahold of Peter. Have you asked him?" 

"No. I don't want to ask. I don't want him to think I want to leave."

"But if you're unhappy..."

Jo sighs. "I'll be fine. Besides, Lindsay and Ryan are leaving. They haven't said it to Shawn yet but they are, I overheard them talking a few nights ago." 

Your stomach churns. "Why are they leaving?" 

"They think Shawn isn't a good alpha, that he's too soft and doesn't care about the good of the pack. Which is wrong, he's incredible and he has always taken care of us. They're just angry."

"Because of me."

Jo nods. "I think they have a problem with you. I don't know why, there is nothing wrong with you."

"It's because I'm a hybrid."

"That's stupid. You're Shawn's mate, you're still a wolf even if you're a hybrid." Jo leans back and braces herself on her arms. "I actually think you're very interesting."

"Thank you?" 

"I mean it. I've never met someone who has wolf ears. Do you have a tail too?" 

"No!" You laugh and Jo giggles. "Do you see a tail?" 

She shrugs and leans over as if looking for it sticking out behind you. "You could hide it, but no, I don't see one. Too bad, I'm sure Shawn would be into it." 

"That's so weird."

"Shawn's weird." Jo says softly and goes quiet as if reflecting for a moment. "He's weird but he's also one of the best men I've ever met. You're very lucky."

"You'll find someone like him." 

"I know, one day right?" 

"Yeah. One day."

_____________________

Shawn takes you home later that evening. Lindsay and Ryan both disappeared, you've no idea where they went but they were not around when you crept down the stairs with Jo after talking for a while. You're sure Shawn must have come to find you and heard you and Jo talking and left you alone. It turns out that Jo has a lot in common with you. You both love cats despite your wolf nature, you both like to knit and sew, she loves coffee and you obviously do too. It's great, and she gives you hope that maybe you could be part of the pack one day.

Shawn turns the Jeep down your street and he reaches over and lays his hand on your leg. "I'm proud of you today."

"Why?"

"You talked to Jo. You let her apologize to you for what she did. I knew she would, that she doesn't think like Lindsay and Ryan." He pulls into your driveway and kills the engine. "I'm sure it's not easy for her to see us together."

"You know how she feels about you?"

"Yes." He sighs. "I've never lead her on, and I tried to always keep everything as platonic as possible. Still she always had that look in her eye. It kills me to break her heart but she knows that mates are not a choice."

"Yeah, she knows."

"Can I come in?"

You lift his hand from your leg and press your palm to his. It's so warm, and so big. "I'm just going to go to bed, but if you want to, I won't say no."

"I'd love to."

You and Shawn go into the house and he goes to the kitchen to make a cup of tea with the chamomile bags you brought with you. You go to the bathroom and clean up, wash your face, put on some lotion before bed, the usual things.

"You're so beautiful."

You shut off the sink and look over at Shawn leaning against the door frame. He's smiling, soft and gentle, just a slight turn of his lips. "Thank you."

"Everything about you is so inviting." He steps into the small bathroom and sets down the mug of tea he's cradling in his hand. He walks you back against the counter after you turn around to hang up your hand towel. "Your eyes, your smile...your voice." He trails off, eyes heavy on your lips. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm lucky, not you."

"No, I'm a hundred percent sure I'm the lucky one." He brushes back a bit of stray hair that's fallen in your face. "Y'know... we're mates and we haven't even kissed."

"Yeah?" You smile playfully. "So what?"

"So maybe I could change that."

"Or maybe you can wait." You press two fingers to his lips and he kisses them. "Let's let it happen naturally. There's no fun in just doing it for the sake of doing it."

Shawn smiles and scratches your ear briefly before stepping back just a bit. "I'll wait forever if I have to. I know it'll be worth it."

You grab his hands and walk backwards toward the doorway. "I know it will be. Now, are you going to stay again?"

"If you're comfortable with that, yes."

"I'm very comfortable with it."

Shawn breaks one hand away and he grabs the mug of tea from the counter. "Alright then, lead the way honey." 

—————

Please send feedback in asks, replies or reblogs. Let me know if you’d like to read more of this story. Thank you so much -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[scenariosbutmakeitgay]

Hi, so may I ask a smutty fluffy one shot between khun aguero and fem reader after the reader discovered that khun still alive after the Arlene accident (idk if it make sense because English is not my native laguage, btw u doing a really great job ❤️)

chill anon, english isn’t my first language either~ nsfw under the cut

- A notification coming from your Pocket has pierced the silence that previously filled the whole room. You were playing around with Emily and trying to relax. The app was fun, but you weren't sure if it could be trusted. Some people said it's quite dependable, though. There was one thing that you couldn't stop thinking about. With nothing to lose, you typed out a message.

“Khun Aguero Agnis,” it said. You remembered him leaving, and never coming back. Where was he? You tried to contact him, but to no avail. When you heard about the Hand of Arlene exploding, your worrying changed into a panic. That was the exact place where Khun went. And what if...

“He's alive.”

You blinked twice to make sure you're not hallucinating. Damn blue jerk, he could have literally texted to say everything's okay, but nooo- wait, but what if he's injured? You bit your lip nervously, not knowing what to think. Should you text him again? Probably not, if he saw your previous messages, he would have already replied. Suddenly, you heard a sound of another notification. It wasn’t from Emily this time.

“Meet me in two hours, don’t tell anyone. A.A.” The text was followed by an address. You had no choice but to listen to him, but the message made you concerned. Why weren’t you allowed to tell anyone?

The time passed quickly, and two hours after receiving the text, you were waiting at Khun to arrive at the chosen spot as well. You had lots of questions to ask, and you couldn’t promise that you won’t murder him for letting you worry for so long.

“I see you’ve made it in time,” a calm voice stated. You looked for a source of it, and there he was. Khun’s hair seemed slightly longer than before, but his attire remained quite unchanged – he looked as elegant as always. He greeted you with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. Some things just stay the same no matter what. You took a deep breath and started rambling.

“Where were you after the Hand of Arlene exploded? Are you injured? What-,” you cut yourself off after seeing Khun raise his brow in an annoyed expression. He sighed.

“I’ll explain everything later. Just follow me now, we have to get somewhere else.”

You did as he said, but it made no sense to you. Couldn’t he arrange a meeting with you at the final location from the very beginning? All Khuns must have received being confusing with the rest of their genes.

Aguero led you to an apartment. It was too big for one person, so you assumed he didn’t live here on his own.

“My roommates happened to get a day off from training.” He paused, and took a place on a comfortable-looking sofa. “They won’t come back for at least a few hours.”

You sat next to him, not sure where to begin with your questions. A slender arm got wrapped around your waist. A quiet whimper left your lips as Khun began showering your neck with soft kisses.

He smirked. “I know you missed me.”

Spending a whole night in Khun’s arms was tempting, but your curiosity wouldn’t let it happen. “You promised to explain everything.”

Aguero’s smirk got replaced with a grimace. He furrowed his brows, and wore a serious expression on his face. “FUG’s new Slayer nominee and 25th Bam are the same person. He didn’t die that day.”

You froze, and barely managed to whisper his name. After those seven years it felt foreign on your lips. Bam. “What do you mean he’s alive?!”

“I couldn’t believe it either! I’m helping his new team with training.” He murmured something about unbearable idiots unable to do anything right, but you didn’t hear it properly. “I know I should have told you right away, but it’s not something to say through a message.” Khun cupped your face with his hands, and looked into your eyes. The fact that he was yours made him even prettier. “I wanted to spend some time alone with you, too.” His voice was huskier than before. “I missed that cute smile of yours.”

You chuckled at his comment. Your favorite thing about Aguero was when he allowed himself to be vulnerable. It meant he trusted you, and compliments were one of his ways to show it.

It all began with a few kisses. Each of them was hungrier than the one before. You craved his touch, his lips on yours, and above it all, him. A muffled moan escaped Khun’s lips as your teeth bit into his neck to leave a claiming mark. He looked so pretty in purple. Aguero reminded you of a porcelain doll that shattered with every bruise. As his skin got stained with the hue of red wine, his innocence got consumed by a tainted desire. Loud moans filled the room, and even though they weren’t coherent, the look in Khun’s cobalt eyes could replace them with a long poem about longing. Because it was so dark when the Hand of Arlene crushed beneath the power of FUG’s new god, and Khun felt so lonely with no light around him. But now you were there with him. Instead of hope, Aguero decided to lose his white shirt. White was a color of purity, and it didn’t suit him anymore. Not when his mind was full of filth that found its way to escape through his mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he nibbled on your earlobe, and chuckled. “Now be obedient and get on your knees.”

You listened to him once again, Aguero wasn’t a man to be refused. His voice sounded like the prettiest melody you’ve ever heard, and its seductiveness guided you to kneel before him. Khun loved giving orders, and he gave you another one-

“Unzip my pants.”

Who were you to disobey? 

You barely touched him, but he was so starved for any physical contact that his member was already hard. Aguero made such a gorgeous sight. With every lick his breathing became heavier, and he held less control over the situation. Wasn’t it everything you could have dreamt of? You took the tip of his member into your mouth, and felt the salty taste of precum. He was eager. Your tongue moved painfully slowly, and it made Khun go crazy. You took more of him into your mouth, and began bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.

“J-just like that, please.”

Hearing him plead for your touch made your arousal grow even more, and reach every part of your body. You felt him tremble, and just when he was about to come, you stopped. Aguero was a mess. He sat you on his lap, and stole another hungry kiss. Khun really tried to control himself, but when you looked so lewd, your lips were on his, damn, when you tugged on his hair- he just couldn’t. His long fingers found their way to your clitoris as his member entered you. You weren’t sure what happened next. Your mind went blank with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, and all you heard was your name leaving Khun’s lips as a sinful declaration of love. 

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I received an excellent ask from @the-gay-lady-of-ravenclaw-tower and I was happy to answer it, but because I am a Tumblr old I accidentally replied to the first part of the ask instead of the second, and now it’s gone. So I’m going to reproduce it and include my answer below. I hope this can help others, too! Fair warning that I am long-winded and the post is very long as well. If anyone has suggestions about how to make it more readable (I have ADHD and long blocks of text are not my friend, so I get it), send me a message and let me know!

Hi, Ryn! Sorry if this ask is intrusive, feel free to ignore. You're the first non-binary person I've seen on here who's really fully an adult (to me grown up = older than 30-35) and I was wondering if you had any advice you'd like to share with younger queer/non-binary kids. In particular I was wondering how you navigate using gender-neutral pronouns in the workplace and how you build a community/found family with other queer adults. (1/2)

I'm 18, and it's easy to see other queer kids around me in college, but it feels like a bubble. I worry about the world outside of this microcosm and how to navigate queerness in the future. Seeing queer adults like you who have successfully made it through their 20s and survived in the "real world" while building a community is really hopeful for me, especially considering the world was much more hostile in your formative years than mine. Thanks :) (2/2)

Let me first apologize for taking so long on this ask, I wanted to give a considered answer.

I’m honored that you would ask in the first place. I take advice-giving pretty seriously, especially when someone is reaching out to me because they’re hoping to take advantage of any experience I might have from being on the planet longer. I want to introduce a couple of caveats, though, so you can take my advice in the context it deserves. 

As you mentioned, I did grow up in a world that was quite a bit more hostile to queerness. On top of that, I’m sure you know we just didn’t have easy access to queer information, and it was a lot more visible when someone was seeking it. Because of this, I didn’t actually figure out my queerness (though I suspected for decades) until a few years ago. However, I’ve tried to throw myself into the queer community as hard as I’m able, and I was always a queer ally. So I’ve been on the fringes for a really long time, even though it’s only now that I’ve been able to experience it from a place of openness. On the other hand, I do think there’s value in that situation, as well, so, take all of this for what you will.

The other caveat is that I left the traditional workplace prior to my accepting my queerness. I have never had to deal with pronoun issues, and I also come from a place of having the luxury of a decent relationship with my original pronouns. I am non-binary, but I’m ok (for the most part) with people using she/her for me. That said, my background is in accounting, and the firms I worked for, on the whole, probably would not have been thrilled about neutral pronouns, much less neopronouns, especially with anything client-facing. Some of the feelings about this are changing, and some are not. It’s very industry-specific and employer specific, so I feel like the best advice I can give in this situation is to be safe, in whatever way that works for someone. 

I would love to just say have the conversation with your employer in terms of pronouns and presentation and that if they’re not willing to accept even the idea of it, you know that they weren’t probably going to treat you with dignity and respect about being outside of the binary, but because society hasn’t caught up in their understanding and acceptance of anything but cisgender and heteronormative ideals, it is still a privilege too many are excluded from. Why human dignity and respect are treated as privileges, I shall never know, but that’s how it is for so many at this moment in time. So all I can say is try your best to assert yourself in whatever way is safest for you, and to know that there are lots of adults rooting for you and willing to help when and where they can, even if we can’t change everything immediately. It still sucks that we have to couch it this way, but I do think it’s important to remember that at least in some places we can have the conversation. It’s not enough, and it will never be enough until we don’t have to think about it anymore, but change is always going to be too slow for marginalized communities. 

The found family is where I feel most comfortable answering. My peer group, the oldest Millennials, was really the first youth group to benefit from the presence of ubiquitous, reliable internet as a way to find new relationships, whether platonic, romantic, whatever. And I have to say, we found it in the same ways then as a lot of young adults do now: fandom spaces, very primitive means of social media (ah, the heady days of the message board), various websites and communities that we, along with a lot of other age groups, built. I personally met most of my found family through a fandom space, and while none of us really retain ties to that fandom anymore, our love for each other has only grown. The rest of my sort of extended found family, if you will, I met through in-person spaces, like the classes I took in college, things like that. I think one of the most important pieces of that puzzle is not being afraid to reach out through your interests. I also think that’s not so different from when I was around your age. The spaces themselves are a lot different to navigate, and I do not envy you with the sort of omni-present fight against purity culture, which we did not really have to address, but building a community is pretty much the same no matter if it’s online, in-person, formalized like a city, or anything else. It takes work and commitment and a willingness to see it succeed, and it will change and evolve a lot as you go on. Not all found family is permanent, and there’s nothing wrong with that, either. There are people who have passed out of my life, and rightly so, that I was certain at the time would be with me forever. But it’s ok. I grew as a person, and I grew in a different direction than worked for our relationship. I grew in a direction that brought me toward my found family. 

I should also probably point out that my found family is, on the whole, not queer. A few of us are, or have ties to queerness, but there’s a variety of sexualities, genders, etc. I think you’re right to say that queerness can be kind of a bubble, but there are lots of people who want to embrace what may have started out as queer ideals because they recognize it’s how they want to live, even if they themselves are not queer. I think especially people my age and younger are realizing that they want families that are supportive and nurturing, and I am sorry to say it but that’s rooted in queerness in a way that most normative family dynamics are not. We’ve had no choice, we either had each other or no one else. Queerness, on some level, means found family—or at least queerness that doesn’t rely on trying to emulate the cisgender heteropatriarchy for acceptance. So the two ideas are really intertwined and it’s completely understandable why so many queer people gravitate toward families they built themselves. How to do that is as varied as any queer experience, but comfortingly, it’s still the same as any other kind of relationship at its core. Give it time, which is no one’s favorite advice, but that is the best I’ve got. Make sure you’re getting what you need in addition to helping others with what they need. Be kind and loving and supportive, and above all, bring compassion to the table every moment that you can. Empathy is good, too, but compassion and kindness will steer you better, I think, more often than empathy will. 

I know this is an incredibly long answer, and this is as concise as I could make it. These are big questions, and I am not a concise person by nature. :) Good luck, and I’m here to talk if you need, and that extends to any queer young adults that want advice. We have to band together, we all have so many wonderful things to contribute, and I for one am looking forward to seeing what you and your peers add to the discussion over the years.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch3

The usual hussle n bussle of the casino made it's way around the duo as they made their way around the place. The more taller one of the two was carefully sweeping his red eyes over the crowd searching for one certain lost pup. Or should I say horse. "Are you certain you left her here?" He gave a raised brow at the cyborg who nodded. "Yeah. She was right here-" she gestured to the floor as they walked. ''-all soak 'n wet and hungrier than Disease on a hangover." He hummed and gave another turn of his head over the ever loud herd of demons. An opportunity like this shouldn't be wasted, and he certainly wasn't about to miss out on it either. It was one thing to be a rich and powerful tyrant over a small territory, but it was a whole other thing if one had something so pure and....interesting under their hold. Considering what Cyber told him about she had said...Who just claims to be sent down against their will by a god? This was too good to just let go. He knew there was something about this situation worth investigating. He turned left and stopped- Almost causing Cyber to walk into him. She gave him a confused sideways glance just as one of those curled smiles formed on his face, and his body maneuvered to the right.

"It seems-" He smirked at the sight of the pale blonde and white mass of hair and the horn sticking up from it standing in the corner of the slot machine corner. She would've been hard to spot at first if you didn't look hard enough like he was, luckily he's always had a nack for finding grand opportunities. "I've found our little pet.~ Cyber, come along." He ordered her as he began walking straight towards the unsuspecting girl. Being the taller and owner of the casino, it was fairly easy for them to maneuver through the crowd and over towards the corner of noisy machines. She didn't seem to notice them at first as she was giving the machine closest to her a curious look at the pictures spun around again, she was probably wondering how they even worked, until her ear raised and her head turned towards them. Instantly she stood up in instinct to bolt but instead ended up just freezing on the spot when she spotted the smaller demon. Maybe it was because she recognized Cyber or the fact that 2 demons were standing between her and the exit, but she didn't move when they came to stand in front of her. Her face was frozen in a state of uncertainty and scared curiousity. "Greetings.~ Apologies for the sudden intrusion, '' He held out a red clawed hand out to her and smiled ''-but I couldn't help but find the story you told Cyber here-" He quickly nodded towards her "-very interesting." She didn't say anything and just glanced between the two.....Before a sudden look of realization came over her. Then sudden regret as she stared at him. "You...Oh my god! I-I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean t-to.." Her stomach sank as she realized exactly who was actually talking to her. She knew tripping up would cause later problem. She went to apologize again but he cut her off when he held up his hand. "If it's about the tail stepping incident, then you have nothing to worry about. Everyone makes mistakes. That's why we're all down here after all." He chuckled making her give a confused look before bringing his hand back to examine his red claws. "Actually I'm quite happy you did. I probably wouldn't have seen you otherwise." "If..y-you're not mad," she asked slowly shuffling back, ''-then why are you cornering me?" He raised a brow and gave her probably the most dark smirk she'd ever seen since-...Yeah. Better not bring that up. "I happen to be one to have an eye for great opportunities. And believe me when I say that I never miss a chance to better business-" "What does that have to do with me?" She backed up even more. There was no way she was going to become someone else's showpony. "I-I don't have anything on me." She gestured to her body's lack of pockets. New Plan. Make herself as less desirable as possible! "I don't have money, or anything valuable. Y-You're wasting your time-" "I think you're mistaken." He cut her off again and chuckled. "I'm not here to rob you, I'm here to offer you the chance of a lifetime.~" She stared blankly at him for what seemed like a full minute before saying the typical 'What?' he was expecting. He laughed and took a few steps towards her. "Maybe I should be more specific. You see-" An arm snaked around her and pulled her to his side as he spoke. She froze. "I usually never do this, but you are a very special exception.~ You see. I'm always on the look out for...useful and hardworking people for my business. And once I saw you..Heh. Well I knew you'd be useful to me in someway, and after what Cyber told me about your little run in with the Goddess Life-..." His smile curled at the ends as he began stepping, guiding her towards the stairs with Cyber in tow. "The Goddess of all plant life. Well that just sealed the deal for me. But what do think Ms.-...?" "A-..Amalfia," she squeaked out. She looked over her shoulder at Cyber but she just shrugged and nodded back at the taller demon. "I don't think I really know w-what you're t-talking about? W-What job?" He barked a laugh making her flinch. "Well, there's plenty of things you could do." He gazed up and rubbed two red claws together in thought. "Maid, cook, dishwasher-...Maybe a waitress? But I think I'm in need of a more....personal assistant-" "Personal assistant?" "Basically you'll be my everything and take care of things I don't have time to do. Taking care of my personal quarters and items, bringing me food- Do you know how to organize paperwork?" She was confused by this but nodded, one of the things she picked up on from being around a paper pushing father. "Excellent! I think you'll fit the role perfectly!" "So...Basically you want me as a secretary and personal house cleaner? Why wo-?" "I know this is quite out of the blue, but I assure you I pay very well.~" They finally stopped walking and stopped in front of the stairs as demons kept walking around them. "I think you would find the pay good." His arm unhooked from around her as he turned to stand in front of her. "And not just that. Three meals a day, clean clothes, a roof over your head, plenty of utensils at your disposal-...How about it?" She stood there gapping like a goldfish sputtering random squeaks and noises that sounded like almost words as the taller demon continued to stare at her. "If you have any doubts, you can ask Cyber any questions. All of my employees are satisfied with their pay." "I-I-....A-Absolutely n-" "Absolutely? Wonderful!" A hand grabbed hers as he shook her hand with that giant smile. "I assure that you'll find everything here to your delight. Cyber will show you to your new room and...Cyber." He looked behind her shoulder at the smaller demon. "Make sure she gets cleaned up and dry. Can't have my new employee coming down with the flu from that nasty rain now. Report back to me when she's all settled." The unicorn being gave them a blank look as Cyber gently grabbed her arm and began to lead her away from the taller demon. "Sure, Boss. C'mon. I have a nice room in mind for ya." ============================================= "I don't see why you had to interrupt me from my work. I thought you would have something better to do." The plant demon sighed and reached a hand up to rub his temples to rub at the already bad headache starting to form from trying to explain this situation again to her. Someone wrapped their arm around the frowning woman pulling her against his side with a purr. "Nah. He just wants some info, Honey.~ And we both know how much you love researching weird magic things." A hand pushed his face back a bit and he gave off a small growl. "That's true..." "She's not some new toy for you to dissect, Midnight." He scowled at her making his point perfectly clear. "I just want to know what I should expect from her." She gave off a huff and turned from the snake's hold to a shelf to the right. Her hand hovered over a few covers before stopping at one, pulling it out and giving it a quick look over, and blowing the dust off it. She paid no mind to the two males coughing and opened the book. Skimming through a couple pages before stopping and raising a brow. "Unicorn....Being of purity. Last known living one spotted in 1922. Rumored miracle maker with the spiraled horn on their heads which was also used by ancient medicine man and shamans to vanquish evil and ward off evil spirits. Their blood was known to be used in potions to increase their affects-" "Yes, yes," He pushed impatiently, "That's all very well. But is there any benefits for me keeping her under check." Her brow rose. "There's plenty of uses for her in here." She patted the book. "It even has a recipe for how to cook her meat to give someone immunity to fire-" "That's repulsive!" He made a disgusted face. "I don't plan on becoming a cannibal, or killing something that's worth more alive. Now what can I use to my advantage?" She groaned and looked back down to the pages. "..........Some ancient rulers were known to keep them as pets or tools for war. Their horns which were usually spiraled or curved were known to contain powerful magic similar to angelic essence which coursed through their entire being. This magic could easily be controlled by special collars but only be used if said creature was still alive and the horn was still intact to their heads." She looked back up at him. "Is this what you want?" He didn't talk for a moment and stood there. Thinking. What an opportunity.~ He smiled that dark smile of his before turning back to them. "Well. What an interesting new development.~ I think I found a more ideal purpose for our newest member.~" "Ooooh!~ Whatcha got planned Lou-y? Gonna chop off that pretty horn and use it for a paper weight?" He chuckled. "I think I have a more...useful idea in mind.~"

All characters besides Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.85

Keith thought Coran would return to VOLTRON to analyse the book they’d stolen, instead the fae came back to their apartment with them. Sending Lance to shower, his wings had slowly gone away during the drive and his boyfriend seemed exhausted from the effort it’d taken. Changing out his uniform, Keith left a fresh change of clothes for Lance on the bathroom counter before heading into the living area where Coran had his hands full of an excited Kosmo. At the kitchen counter, Shiro was making coffee, Keith relishing the scent of normality after such a crazy night.

Dropping down on the sofa at the opposite end to Coran, Kosmo deserted pats from

Coran in favour of pats from him. His whole body wagging as he climbed into Keith’s lap

“He gets cuter each time I see him”

Keith’s heart swelled with pride. A puppy was a hell of a lot of work. Things were always being chewed and puddles always being left but he loved Kosmo so damn much. His puppy was perfect

“He does. Just mind your shoes, he loves chewing them”

Coran glanced down at his feet

“I’m wearing my shoes”

“Then they’ll be safe. Laces maybe not”

“I’ll have to remember that. Now, once Curtis comes out, and our Lance is done in the shower, we’ll get started”

Keith didn’t know Curtis was there until he shuffled out of Shiro’s bedroom looking sprung. Shiro’d been so fast to comment on their sex life, when he was keeping his boyfriend waiting in his room. As long as they kept it a minimum, Keith couldn’t complain. He wasn’t about to attack his brother for finally being able to start moving on after Adam. Standing near the doorway, Curtis seemed unsure what to do

“Hey, Curtis. Come sit down. Coran’s going to solve the mystery of our little heist tonight”

“Are you sure? I haven’t been invited in on the mission”

Coran brushed it off

“That’s quite alright. The Blades wanted this turned over to them directly, but I think Keith and Lance earned the right to know what this is before them. I can’t trace anything particular about the book. The necklace may hold some clues. And the plaque isn’t particularly important that I can tell”

Curtis came to sit with them, sitting on the coffee table thanks to the lack of seating

“You guys have any trouble?”

To Keith it sounded like Curtis missed being in the field

“If you mean they had to pause the mission to reenact their high school fantasies, then yes”

Keith shot Shiro a glare

“That wasn’t Lance’s fault”

Shiro shooting back

“You know the mission always comes first. No matter the circumstances”

They’d gotten it done. That should be enough

“Yeah. And Lance feels bad enough about it. You don’t need to make him feel any worse”

“Did Lance go into heat again?”

Curtis sounded worried. Yeah. Going into heat wasn’t part of the plan, but with all the adrenaline and fresh blood in his system, he couldn’t help himself

“Only a flash, and we handled it”

“I hope you were careful”

As careful as they could have been. He didn’t need Curtis reminding him that the uniform didn’t come with convenient condoms attached

“I’m not about to knock my boyfriend up mid-mission. Can we like not talk about this when we’ve got more important things to discuss?”

A loud thud and curse interrupted things. Keith placing Kosmo on the sofa as he climbed to his feet. Shiro staring towards the bathroom door

“Is he alright?”

What was Keith, some kind of mind reader?

“I’ll check”

Lance was laying on the bathroom floor, he’d hit his head on the shower door from the look of it. Rubbing the spot, his boyfriend looked up at him as Keith let himself into the bathroom. Keith shouldn’t laugh, but his boyfriend was buck naked and looked confused when he’d very clearly tripped

“Do I want to ask?”

Lance groaned, starting to gather himself up

“I slipped...”

“I can see that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I felt a bit light headed getting out...”

Lance was a vampire in perfect health, he shouldn’t be feeling light headed

“Let me help get you up. I don’t want you to slip again”

“I’m fine... a bit tired and confused but I’m okay... gimme a minute and I’ll be out”

As Lance went to stand, he slipped again. Keith sighing to himself as he moved to help Lance get up

“Let me do it. You’re going to end up breaking something at this rate”

Shooting him a wobbly smile, Lance leaned heavily against him

“Are you more concerned for me, or the bathroom?”

They both knew he was worrying over Lance

“The bathroom. Obviously. Sit down on the toilet, I’ll get the towel”

Fetching the towel, Keith started drying Lance off. He was like a big puppy, leaning into Keith’s touches as he dried him

“Do you need blood?”

“Nah... I’m tired. Today has been horrendously long”

“How do your hips feel?”

Lance yawned as he nodded, acting like he didn’t have a bump on his forehead

“Fine. I didn’t realise how intense a mission could feel, even one to just steal a Bible and a necklace. I feel really bad about taking the Bible. Next time I take Mami to church I’m going to have a lot to confess”

“Coran’s going to compensate them, and if possible we can try to return the Bible”

“Yeah, but stealing a Bible still feels super bad. Worse than having sex on a teachers desk and nearly getting caught”

“You couldn’t help that. Besides... it was kind of hot”

Lance chuckled at him, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back

“I knew you’d make an excellent teacher. Much better than the ones I had”

“I thought you’d be a model student”

“Not really. Sometimes I’d be up with nightmares and come to school looking like a walking corpse. The teachers didn’t get it and it was hard not being too smart. Plus I was awkward and gangly and Spanish, with hand me downs from my brothers”

“The teachers didn’t like me either. They thought I was too much work. I ran away in my last year”

“At least you tried to stick it out. I know it’s not much now, but I’m proud you made the effort”

Of course Lance was proud. He probably would be still if Keith had told him everything. But that was a conversation for another time

“Are you sure you don’t need blood?”

Lance’s teeth had gone right through his gloves, not that Keith minded. If Lance was hungry, he’d organise something

“I’m okay. I want to know what all this was about... then go to bed. Those wings were weird as fuck”

“They weren’t exactly normal”

“Nope. It’s only happened twice now. I don’t like it. It makes me feel less human”

“I know it does... Thanks for not dropping me”

“If the jump had gone wrong, I would have made sure you’d still landed safely. It took a lot of trust to hold onto me”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat. He trusted Lance. Like really trusted him. Having someone love him the way Lance did... the way he accepted him. It was so painfully needed. They’d been through so much together, and Keith couldn’t think of anyone else he wanted to care for him like how Lance did. With a blush in his cheeks, he tried to play it cool

“I already trust you. Coran’s out there with the book and the necklace. Curtis is here too, he came out of Shiro’s bedroom like he’d caught. Shiro’s made coffee”

Lance yawned again

“You can have mine... I really just want to go to sleep. I feel so drained it’s not funny”

Lance was stumbly, holding onto Keith as they made their way over to the sofa. Sitting down, he pulled his boyfriend into his lap. Lance didn’t seem to mind as he curled into Keith

“That’s an impressive egg you’ve got there”

Lance mumbled at Curtis about “stupid slippery shower floors having it out for innocent vampires”. Keith explaining to the group

“Sorry, he’s sleepy. He slipped getting out the shower”

“Should we be worried about a concussion?”

Keith looked to Coran who shook his head. Curtis had a valid point

“Any damage is already on the mend. He’s had quite the long day. That bad blood in his system would have really knocked him about. Anywhoo. Congratulations on completing your mission. You both did very well...

Shiro snorted. Coran continued

“... in avoiding detection and a need for incapacitation. Let’s take a look here. I’m not sensing anything off the Bible. It seems to be a beloved personal item. Let’s look at the locket”

Keith watched over Lance’s shoulder as Coran lifted the locket. Popping it open, it contained a thick lock of hair bound with a small faded pink ribbon. Nothing exciting at all. Lance mumbled grumpily

“Werewolf stink”

Coran nodded

“Yes, my boy you may be right. No use to anyone really as their are no folicals at the ends and any DNA would have degraded by now... there’s something in the middle here”

Shiro handed out the coffee as Coran went about untying the ribbon, there was a slim tooth inside the hair. The necklace hadn’t seemed thick enough to hold it, but there was no denying it’d all fitted in the slim silver. Handing Keith his cup of coffee, his brother waited for direction’s of what to do with Lance’s. Keith more concerned about how he was going to drink his coffee and cuddle his boyfriend. He needed an extra hand, then he could have the best of both worlds. Coffee and Cuddles

“I’ll drink Lance’s later. What’s the deal with the tooth?”

Coran picked the tooth up, holding it between the pads of his thumb and pointer fingers so he could examine it

“It’s definitely vampire. You can tell by the shape. Lotor’s certainly dumped a mystery on us. We have a monastery that converted to a convent in the late 1800’s. A Bible that is simply a bible as far as I can tell. No more spiritual residue than a teaspoon on that one. And now a silver plated locket with werewolf hair and a vampire tooth... and absolutely no idea what any of this means”

Lance sighed, his boyfriend shifting, conscious of Keith’s precious cup of coffee and Kosmo who wanted to cuddle with his other hooman.

Tiredly, Lance rubbed at his face, before reaching out to take the tooth off Coran

“It was probably the religious practice of putting something pure near something dirty. They believed the purity of the item would cancel out the dirtiness. Vampire and werewolves kind of don’t get much dirtier. Either that or we have a nun who was either a secret hunter, or a vampire having an affair with a werewolf in on sacred dirt. This tooth looks pretty new. Probably pulled out right after it grew back”

Lance passed the tooth back to Coran, Coran nodding at what he’d said

“That does make sense and certainly a possibility. However, I found nothing related between the building and hunting”

“Yeah, but didn’t people used to bring things to churches to be made pure? Whatever it was, the nun has long since passed away. Pass me the Bible”

Passing over the Bible Lance flicked through the pages, failing to tell them what he was thinking as he did. Keith nudged him with his elbow as he brought his cup up to his lips and blew across the surface softly. His boyfriend was doing a hard think

“Babe, not all of us have the memory you do”

Lance hefted a sigh, before holding the Bible up and reading

“There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men”

Riiiiiight. If Lance said so? He was pretty much the only church goer in the group

“Yeah... I still don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Most people think it’s about vampires. Instead of being about greedy people who’d use you up and throw you away. Our nun here didn’t think it important enough to dog ear the page, which I thought she might have if she’d been a hunter. It’s been well loved, and it definitely has charm, but I wouldn’t say it holds any great mystery I can see”

Handing the Bible back to Coran, Coran slipped it into his jacket

“I’m afraid Lotor might simply have been testing your skills. I’ll take these back and take a few readings before we present these to Lotor tomorrow morning. You boys best get your rest. We haven’t any idea what’s he’s planning next”

Lance nodded

“Sounds good to me... Is it rude if I head to bed now? I’m sorry but I’m exhausted”

Patting Lance’s leg, Coran smiled gently

“Get some rest my boy. You and Keith both did a splendid job”

“Minus the sex”

Coran chuckled at Shiro

“You have a lot to learn about heats my young boy. Don’t be too hard on them. They’re very compatible and very in tune with each other. Keith being able to scent Lance is proof of their bond. He’s got a good nose on him for being completely human”

Keith felt like he’d been called a sniffer dog. He didn’t ask to be able to pick up on Lance’s scent and he didn’t always notice until the scent grew too strong not to notice. As Coran climbed up from the sofa, Lance climbed off Keith’s lap

“Take your time, babe. You don’t need to rush your coffee because of me. Night, guys. Sorry I’m too tired to stay up”

*

After Lance and Coran had parted, Keith fought the urge to follow his boyfriend. Shiro’s expression said he wanted to talk, not that Keith particularly wanted to. His brother sitting down beside him, Curtis took Coran’s vacant spot, pulling Kosmo into his lap as he did. Keith closed his eyes as his brother broke the silence

“Coran’s right. I don’t understand heats. Was it really necessary to break mission like that”

There it was, Curtis replying before he could

“Lance couldn’t help it. His heats aren’t planned, nor are the flashes that come over him. Not to sound crass, but Lance would have only worsened if left unaided”

“But surely he knows how to get through a heat?”

“A heat is a sign his body is fertile. Flashes of heat stem from arousal, fresh blood after bad blood would have left his system off kilter. I suspect the adrenaline in his system, as Keith mentioned, coupled by his body trying to burn through the bad blood resulted in a heat flash as it was. A true heat is very intense, as Keith knows. Lance’s body may be receptive to scents, but the only one he allows to help him is Keith”

Shiro sighed, leaning forward he cupped his hands around his cup of coffee

“I still don’t think I understand”

“As Coran said, Keith is very compatible with Lance. Lance doesn’t intentionally trigger a heat. It’s something that cannot be helped. Like an awkward erection during puberty. He’s levelled out quite a bit when compared to the initial changes in his body. Keith helps keep him anchored. He’s spoken very fondly of Keith, which is quite natural”

Shiro sighed at his boyfriend

“Curtis, you’re doing it again”

“Basically when Lance’s body gets that way, the only comfort is found in release. Being a breeder, he feels safer and relaxes when Keith is...”

Shiro didn’t need the mental images and Keith didn’t need his sex life examined

“Okay. You don’t need to go into detail. Basically, it’s not something you can ignore. He only gets worse if you do and it hurts him physically. Dumbarse used to try sleep it off, and wouldn’t tell me how much it hurt”

Curtis backed him up

“His cramps do get quite bad. When I asked him what they felt like he described at as if you’ve drank two litres of bad milk while you’re horny. He’s doing better now that he’s allowing Keith to help him through them”

Shiro groaned, moving his hands off his cup and burying his face in them

“I thought he just got horny... he’s not a werewolf, so I didn’t think it’d be so bad”

“It’s worse for him as he doesn’t partake in fresh blood”

Keith had seen Lance in heat with and without fresh blood. Fresh blood seemed to give him more energy and stamina to keep up with his body’s demands

“He makes helping him hard... not that I want him feeding on Keith”

Keith appreciated that Shiro was beginning to actually understand that it wasn’t just sex

“Lance’s heat comes in what he calls waves. Mostly he’s okay... after... you know”

“I get the idea. Is he still in heat?”

“Not that I could tell. He really does feel super bad about the mission”

“I won’t bring it up again. You might as well head to bed. I’ll take Kosmo down so he can do his business”

Shiro was nice to offer, but Keith couldn’t push the responsibility of being a fur father onto his brother

“Nah. He’s my puppy. I’ll take responsibility. Maybe next time we can watch a movie or something together?”

Shiro patted his leg

“I’d like that. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m trying to drive Lance off”

Shiro was a seasoned hunter who was used to things running smoothly and being his partner in the field

“You were focused on the mission. I get it. Come on, Kosmo. Let’s go pee then see your other dad”

[inorganicone2230]

Purity (Part 1) Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summery: Overhaul meets a quirkless foreigner who holds some very interesting views on his way of thinking. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to keep her and her purity for himself. And he has no problem with falling to the depths of obsession if it means getting what he wants.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Kai Chisaki certainly considered himself to be, above all else, a visionary, a Messiah meant to save the world from itself. He saw the world for what it truly was. A vile, rotten cesspool, filled to the brim with filth and ugliness, and plagued by a disease called quirks. Despite possessing a powerful one himself, he never considered it to be the blessing that other people did, not that he felt above using it to achieve his goals of course. He was going to be the one to set the world right again, and rule the underworld with an iron fist, so he begrudgingly realized that he would need the power of his quirk to accomplish said goal. No matter how much it sickened him.

Some might call him insane for his beliefs. That quirks were a sickness, infecting the populace with Hero and Villain Syndrome. But he knew the truth that they were all just blind to, that’s why they needed him to be their guide and show them the way to purity.

Perhaps that’s why he found you, you were meant to be his reward for all the good he was doing. It’s only been a few weeks, but he’s sure that it’s a day he won’t ever forget. Not ever, he thinks, gazing down at your form spread out over the sheets in sheer, manic glee as he recalls the all too vivid day…

—————

In hindsight, pulling you out of the way of that moving vehicle could be seen as the starting point to the chain reaction that sent him down this long and winding road of obsession. Not that he would change it for anything in the world.

He had merely acted without much thought when he reached out his white gloved hand to pull you out of the way, touching you as little as possible. He simply wasn’t in the mood to get himself soiled with your blood that would go flying everywhere should you get hit. Touching your shirt seemed like a small price to pay if it meant avoiding being covered in bodily fluids.

You turned around, your (e/c) blown wide in shock and blinking up at him stupidly. Your features were obviously that of foreign descent, not that cared enough to guess what country you came from. It was far too beneath him.

“Umm… thank you. That definitely would have been horribly messy.” You said, your Japanese was relatively decent, if a bit too formal.

He glared, noting with quiet contempt that you didn’t seem affected by it, probably because you were too stupid to know when to be afraid. “The only reason I did it was because I’d rather not get covered in blood and gore. If I could have avoided it, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

You seemed more amused than perturbed by his attitude, and he was beginning to wonder if you were very brave or just hopelessly stupid. “Well thank you for the assistance nonetheless, even more so considering what a hassle it was for you.”

If there were just a few less people out and about he might have decided to use his blasted quirk on you, consequences and mess be damned. Instead he turned on his heel. “Perhaps next time, whatever filthy quirk you have will be able to save you.” He fully intended to walk away and never think about this incident again, however, what you said next was more than intriguing enough to make him stop and give you a second glance.

“That would make sense, if I actually had a quirk. I’ll be sure to ask for one in my next life.”

He turned around to look at you, you were already walking away, but it looked like you were lost, you kept looking at your phone and then back to the street signs and buildings as if you were trying to translate the writing.

“You were born quirkless?” He’d never actually met someone who was genuinely born quirkless, only those that had lost their quirks due to his drug. He could only imagine what it must be like to feel so clean and pure.

You only gave him a brief glance as you continued to scrutinize your surroundings, more than likely surprised that he was still standing there, let alone talking to you. “Yup. No special power for me, unless you count my extraordinary ability to walk a straight line in platform heels while drunk a quirk that is.” You chuckled, the sound not nearly as annoying as he thought it might be.

“Then you’re one of the lucky ones.”

It seems that was the comment that got him your full attention, your head lifting up to stare wide eyed at him. “Lucky? That’s certainly not the word most people would use when describing a quirkless individual. Do you have something against them by chance? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but now you’ve got my curiosity peaked.”

Kai thought about it, why he was still here, why he was still talking to you, and the only answer he could come up with was that he was interested to see what your reaction would be to learning his views. Would you agree? Look at him like he was insane? He wanted to know, so he figured there couldn’t be any harm in enlightening you.

“Have you ever heard the theory that quirks were caused by a strain of virus carried by rats?” You gave a quick shake of your head, (h/c) strands bouncing around your face as he continued. “Quirks are a sickness, they ravage humanity with Hero and Villain syndromes and people seem content to go along with it. It sickens me that the world has fallen so low as to rely on abilities and deformities that we were never meant to have in the first place. It’s unnatural and disgusting.”

He was expecting some kind of reaction from you, he didn’t think you’d jump right into agreeing with him, that would have been too perfect. His best guess was that you were going to think he was crazy, most outside of the Shie Hassaikai thought he was, why should one quirkless girl be any different. The reply you gave him definitely didn’t fit into either of those categories.

“That’s certainly an interesting way of looking at it, from an evolutionary standpoint at least. I’ll admit that when looking back on human history and development, quirks are definitely not what I would have expected human evolution to progress towards. So perhaps your rat theory does have some merit. Almost like a second coming of The Black Death or something.” You said, having moved closer to the wall of a building while the two of you spoke.

“You don’t think I’m crazy for thinking this? Most people would have stopped listening after I used disease and quirk in the same sentence.”

“No.” You chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion that differs from the norm, sometimes it’s what we need to progress and move forward. Culture and society are constantly changing and adapting to new things as time goes on, but we wouldn’t be able to do that if it wasn’t for someone else stepping forward and saying that something needs to be done or fixed if we are to ever move on from the ways of the past. Your views may be a bit extreme, but definitely not crazy. After all, no one ever said passion was a bad thing.”

You couldn’t have possibly known how pleased he was by your words as you looked up into his eyes, eyes that even his underlings flinched at when attempting to hold his gaze for too long, but you just stared right at him, unflinching with a small smile tugging at your lips. It set his pulse racing pleasantly, and if he didn’t already know that he was in top physical health, he might have thought something was wrong with him.

“You looked as if you were lost, perhaps I can help you find your way.” He honestly felt like taking apart his own brain when the words left his mask covered mouth, but it was too late now, you were already agreeing.

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be amazing! I can speak Japanese fairly well, but reading it is another story entirely.” You said pulling out your phone to show him an address for a local hotel, he took note of how soft and clean your hands looked, not a speck of filth to be seen. “I’m here on a study trip with a group of classmates and I went wandering off to look around, ended up getting lost along the way and was too embarrassed to ask for directions.”

“It’s three blocks away, follow me.” He ordered, turning on his heel. He didn’t bother to see if you were tagging along behind him or not, he knew you would obey.

The walk was kept silent and he was pleased that you didn’t seem to want to fill the time with pointless chatter as most people would have, but a small part of him was a bit disappointed as well, he wouldn’t have minded hearing you speak more of those intellectual views of yours. He wondered what else you might have to say about his views on the world. He might have even asked if the two of you had not just reached your destination.

There was someone rushing over, a blonde girl with blue scales around her yellow eyes was marching over to you. “Where in the Nine Circles of Hell did you run off too?! We’ve been worried sick! Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” She said, pulling you into a tight hug.

He wanted to obliterate the annoyance as soon as she touched you. It was blasphemous that this piece of garbage would even think to touch someone as clean as you with their dirty hands. He was even more annoyed that you didn’t seem bothered by this, just reached up to pat her filthy head.

“Sorry Nell, I went for a walk and got a little turned around. But this guy helped me out!” You turned around, to say thank you one last time and maybe get his name, but he was already gone.

Nell just gave you a look, like you had lost your marbles. “What guy (Y/N)? Don’t tell me your seeing ghosts again like you did in elementary school. Was this one at least hot?” She jeered with a barking laugh, bumping her shoulder against yours and motioning for you to follow her towards the hotel entrance.

“That was one time! And you know it was only because Mike was hiding in the attic of that old house to purposely try and scare us. What ten year old wouldn’t have been terrified.”

“Right… sure that’s all it was.” She teased.

“I swear to God, he was right there not even two seconds ago!” You were amazed he managed to slip away in so short a time span. “But he did seem pretty antisocial so he probably didn’t want to hang around longer than necessary. Still though,” You look back over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot that green jacket. “kind of cliche to just up and leave like that without a word.”

“You didn’t answer my question though, was your mystery man easy on the eyes?”

You did have to smile a bit at that. “He did seem pretty handsome from what I could see of him. He was wearing a black dust mask over his mouth and nose, so all I could see of him were his gold eyes. It’s a shame I didn’t get to find out his name, he was interesting to talk too.” You sighed. “But oh well, it would be a miracle if I ever ran into him again in a city this big.”

From up on the roof of another building, Kai watched and listened, a plan already forming in his head. He had to agree with you, it was a shame you couldn’t have spoken more. He found himself pleased with the sound of your voice and wondered what his name would sound like rolling off your tongue, the thought had him shuddering in pleasure. He was not one to question himself on anything, if he wanted something or had a goal, he would find a way to accomplish it. And he most definitely wanted to interact with you again.

“I’ll come find you again soon (Y/N), then we will both get what we want.”

This was my first time writing for Overhaul, so please let me know if you thought I did his character justice! Thanks and please enjoy!

And a special thanks to @talpup for helping me brainstorm this and all my other stories!