#content warning for xenophobia and prejudice

[wittyvitale]

The Belmont and the Speaker 1776 (A Castlevania Nocturne Fanfic)

Summary: The year is 1776 in Machecoul, France. Juste Belmont sees a bigot verbally assaulting a young Speaker woman holding a baby. He didn’t want to get involved, but his sense of familial duty is too strong. He intervenes and the Speaker woman is incredibly grateful. They have a conversation about Belmonts, Speakers, and the traumatic events that have shaped their lives. This is the story of how Juste Belmont and Tera first met.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR BIGOTRY AND XENOPHOBIA. CANON-TYPICAL LANGUAGE

Author's Note: I wrote this in October 2024, and it's a more serious fic compared to the fluff I usually write. But there's still a smattering of fluff because I love fluff. And after watching season 2, I might be inspired to write a companion piece to this fic. Working Title is "The Belmont and the Sorceress 1792." We'll see what happens.

***

Tera walked through the streets of Machecoul, visiting the marketplaces and gathering fresh food for the week ahead. She carried the groceries in a bag on her back while her baby, Maria, was in a sling across her chest. They had already been out for a few hours, and Maria was starting to feel restless. She let her discomfort known by crying. Tera stopped walking and bounced the baby.

“What’s the matter, Masha?” Tera asked sweetly as she checked the basics. “You’re not hungry, and you’re clean. You’re probably tired since we’ve been away from home for so long. Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ve gotten all the food we need and we’re going home now.”

Tera walked down the street while Maria continued to cry, causing passersby to give Tera dirty looks. Tera whispered words of comfort to her baby, trying to calm her.

“Hey! You!” a gruff voice called out. Tera came face-to-face with a disheveled, red-faced man. Tera held her baby against her protectively. “Shut that brat up, will you?!”

Tera paused, taken off-guard and not knowing what to say.

“Goddam foreigner, bet you can’t even understand what I’m saying!”

There it was. Tera had gotten used to the stares and prejudicial comments being spat at her since she’d arrived from Russia. But this was the first time it had happened since Maria was born.

Tera remembered her Speaker training and did a quick assessment of the situation; the man was obviously intoxicated. He wasn’t concealing a weapon, however his body language was threatening, looking like he could throw a punch at any moment. The thoroughfare was very crowded, and multiple people were staring now. Worst case scenario, she could use magic to defend herself. But she wanted to avoid that option if at all possible.

Tera took a step back from the man and composed herself. “I can understand you, sir. My baby’s just overtired, we’re leaving now.”

The man took a step towards Tera. “This is why we shouldn’t allow foreigners in this country. We don’t have enough to go around as it is. Now we gotta spend our hard-earned money on you and your mewling brat! You think that’s fair?”

Tera took another step back, holding Maria tighter. The baby could pick up on the hostile energy and wailed even louder.

“Christ if you won’t shut that kid up, I will!”

Now Tera had no choice. The man had threatened her baby. She held her hand up, preparing to use her magic so she could stun the man and escape.

“How about you fuck off?” a voice next to Tera growled. She saw a pair of hands push the man away from her. Tera looked beside her and saw an older man with long white hair and an unkempt beard. This stranger moved to stand in between Tera and her assailant.

“The fuck you think you’re talking to?” the belligerent man growled.

“The fucking asshole who has nothing better to do all day than harass young women and babies. Does that make you feel like a big man?”

“I’ll kick your ass, old man!”

The long-haired stranger stood taller, glaring at the man with piercing golden eyes. The man paused for a moment, feeling threatened for the first time since confronting Tera.

“You don’t stand a chance in Hell,” the stranger replied in a warning tone. He fingered the short sword that hung by his side. “I can beat the shit out of you in ways you can’t even imagine. But I don’t want to waste my energy. I want you to leave this woman and her child alone, and never bother them again.”

The drunken man swallowed, realizing that he couldn’t take this stranger on. In frustration, he spat at the stranger’s feet.

“I still say foreigners shouldn’t be in this country!” The man exclaimed before finally turning around and leaving.

The stranger exhaled in annoyance before turning his attention to Tera. She was still holding her baby tightly as she wailed.

“Are you all right, miss?” the stranger asked.

“I…” Tera started, still in shock over this turn of events.

“Please come with me,” the stranger requested. “I have a camp by the lakeside. It’s quiet and open, much safer for you and your little one.”

Although this new man had just rescued her, Tera still thought back to her Speaker training; the man had a weapon, but his body language was unthreatening. Plus he had come to her aid. Tera nodded, deciding to trust him. They both walked out of the busy street together.

***

As soon as Tera was in the open air, the relief was palpable. She took a deep breath and lessened the tight hold she had on her baby. Maria was feeling better too, her wails dying down to whimpers.

“I don’t know how I can possibly begin to thank you.” Tera said gratefully.

The man hummed. “Think nothing of it. The Belmonts are duty-bound to help Speakers. We’ve been on good terms for centuries.”

Tera’s eyes widened in recognition. “You’re a Belmont?”

“Not much of one, but yeah. You can call me Juste.”

“I’m indebted to you, Juste. My name is Tera, and this is my daughter Maria.”

Juste looked towards a simple camp by the lake. “Come. You can rest your feet and I can make you tea or coffee, whichever you’d prefer.”

***

Tera sipped a cup of tea while Maria began to drift off to sleep. She put the cup down and adjusted the baby in the sling.

“There we are. I knew it, you were just tired,” Tera crooned to Maria. “We’re safe now, my darling, you sleep as long as you want.”

Juste poked at the campfire with a stick. “I saw the way you positioned your hand out on the thoroughfare. You’re a Speaker Magician, aren’t you?”

Tera looked up from Maria. “I am. Though I prefer not to use magic in public if I can avoid it. Enough attention had been called to me as it was, the last thing I needed-“

“Was for the townspeople to accuse you of being a witch.” Juste finished.

Tera nodded and sighed. “Exactly.”

Juste hummed in understanding. “That asshole would have deserved it if you had been forced to use your magic. If I could still use magic, I would have lit his ass on fire.”

Tera was surprised. “You can use magic as well?”

“Could. The magic left me a long time ago.”

Juste looked down at the fire again, and it was the first time Tera got a good look at his face. There was a deep melancholy in his eyes, face lined with remnants of deep sorrow. He was a broken man who had seen far too many tragedies for one lifetime. Tera’s heart hurt for him, this man who had still decided to come to her aid although he was in great pain.

“One of my ancestors imbued the Belmont line with magic. I was told that I was the strongest magician since her.” Juste continued.

“Sypha Belnades-Belmont?” Tera asked.

Juste raised his eyebrows. “Ah, so the Speakers still pass down the story of Sypha?”

“Of course, all Speakers know about Sypha,” Tera started with a smile. “The story of Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades defeating Dracula is one of the first stories we’re told as children.”

For the first time since they met, Tera saw a small smirk from Juste. “Good to know the Speakers still hold that story with such reverence. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken with any Speakers. Is your clan nearby?”

Tera felt a pang in her heart. “No, it’s… just me. Me and Maria against the world. We’ve settled here in Machecoul.”

Juste was surprised, but he hid it. “Your accent. Russian?”

Tera nodded.

“You’re far away from your homeland.”

Tera looked down at the fire sadly. “Yes. I am.”

Juste and Tera sat in companionable silence, listening to the crackling of the campfire.

“There were vampires,” Tera started, knowing that Juste would understand. “I lost my Speaker clan. My sister. I was forced to flee.”

Tera felt tears prickling at her eyes. Juste took a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I know full well the damage vampires can cause. The physical and the emotional. The ways they can destroy families.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Maria woke up and started fussing. The baby mouthed at her mother’s breasts. Tera’s cheeks turned pink.

“She’s hungry, do you mind if I…” Tera started tentatively.

“If the kid’s hungry, she should eat.” Juste said matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” Tera said gratefully, unbuttoning her blouse and discreetly breastfeeding. “I never know how people are going to react when I feed her. I’ve gotten glares in the past. But Maria’s still so young, I don’t want to deprive her of food when she’s hungry.”

Juste grunted in annoyance, upset that this was another thing the Speaker woman had to worry about. He looked at the mother and daughter pair; he could tell that Tera was a great mother who deeply loved her little girl. She was affectionate and attuned to her baby’s every need. Once upon a time, Juste would have been touched by the sight. Now, however, it brought back painful memories; of the wife he lost, of the daughter who wanted nothing to do with him. He tried to push these thoughts out of his mind, but they were persistent.

“I’ve a daughter around your age,” he started. “Grandson too. He’s a few years older than your girl. 3? 4? Can’t remember exactly. I haven’t seen either of them in years.”

Tera looked at him with interest. “Where are they now?”

Juste also figured that if anyone could understand his troubles, it would be a Speaker. Especially a Speaker who had lost her family to vampires.

“My daughter and grandson are out of the country. Over in what they call the ‘New World.’ Got word that there were vampires over there.” he started.

Tera looked at Juste with rapt attention. Juste recognized those eyes; the eyes of a Speaker who was listening closely to every word, as all Speakers do.

“My daughter and I… well, we’ve never had a good relationship,” Juste continued. “But after my wife was killed, my relationship with my daughter was pretty much nonexistent.”

“Your wife was killed?” Tera asked, sympathy in her voice.

Juste hummed in acknowledgment. “Killed by a vampire. She died in my arms.”

Tera put her hand over her mouth. “Oh Juste, I’m so sorry.”

Juste turned back to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. “A part of me died with her that day. And Julia, that’s my daughter, could tell. We argued all the time. Before she left France, she tried to convince me to go with her. Said I needed to take the Belmont mission more seriously. But I just… I couldn’t bring myself to care. We had the worst fight we ever had that night. I said some horrible things to her. She told me she never wanted to see me again, and she took her baby across the ocean with her. We haven’t been in contact since.”

Tera looked down at Maria, who was still happily feeding. Tera brushed the baby’s bangs out of her eyes. She didn’t know how to reply, but Juste knew she was listening, knew that she was heartbroken for him.

“I apologize,” Juste said. “I’m sure you have enough to worry about. I didn’t mean to dump my troubles onto you.”

But Tera shook her head and smiled at Juste. “You forget, Juste, that I am a Speaker. We’re supposed to listen to people and provide aid and comfort.”

Juste snorted lightly. “Listening is one thing, but this old man is beyond aid and comfort. It’s just the way things are.”

“Can I at least try? It’s the least I can do after all the kindness you’ve shown me today.”

Juste eyed the woman and shrugged. “Why not.”

Tera looked up in thought before speaking. “You and I are similar in more ways than one. We’ve both suffered, we’ve lost loved ones who were dear to us. It would be so easy to give up hope. There have been so many times over the last few years where I almost gave into that despair. But I’ve thought about it, and realized that’s exactly what the vampires want me to do. They want me to lose hope. But I refuse to let them do it. They already took my family, I won’t let them take my hope too.”

Tera was interrupted again by Maria unlatching and belching loudly. Tera chuckled while she wiped Maria’s mouth. “I look at my little Maria, and I see so many possibilities for her future. So many dreams. So many hopes. I see the same for your grandson. We’re supposed to leave the world in a better place than we’ve found it for our children. We owe it to them to try our best to make the world worth living. That’s why I choose hope over despair.”

Juste mulled over Tera’s words and let out a tired sigh. “I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe if we had met 10 years ago, I would’ve have believed it. But I’m too old for hope now.”

“You’re never too old for hope,” Tera disagreed. “And you don’t just owe it to future generations, you owe it to yourself too, Juste. You’re a good man, despite what you might think, despite the words you said to your daughter out of anger. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have stepped in while I was in trouble today. That right there gives me hope. I wish one day you’ll recognize that too.”

Juste hummed again. He commended the woman for trying, but he didn’t believe any of it. He did for Tera and her daughter. He did for Julia and her son. But for himself? Not so much.

Tera smiled at him again, intuiting that Juste still wasn’t convinced. “Just take the time to think about it, Juste.”

Juste looked up from the fire and into Tera’s big green eyes. There was an earnestness in them, a genuine desire to help. He had to acknowledge her, even if he didn’t completely believe her.

“I’ll… try. Thank you, Tera,” he answered before looking at the setting sun. “It’s getting late. I can escort you home if you’d like.”

Tera stood up and Maria yawned again. She snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Maria and I would definitely feel safer if we had a Belmont with us.” Tera said. She looked up in thought again and her eyes brightened. “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Juste hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing at all. Maria’s not eating solid food yet, so I have plenty to make another plate. And it’s been a while since I’ve cooked for somebody. It would be an honor to have you. Please, Juste?”

Juste poured a bucket of water over the campfire and kicked some dirt over it. He considered Tera’s offer. It had been a long-time since he had a home-cooked meal. Or had a meal with others. He’d been alone for a long time. Despite himself, he felt a longing for company. And this young Speaker was good company. Perhaps there was a reason why the Belmont and the Speaker met this day. Juste wasn’t ready to believe he was a good man, or hope that his life might get better. But he figured one “family” dinner wouldn’t hurt.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

***

End Notes: In the second episode of the original Castlevania series, Trevor Belmont sees Sypha's grandfather being harassed. At first Trevor tried to ignore it, but that Belmont sense of duty pushed him to intervene. That was some of the inspiration behind this fic. That scene focused on a Young Belmont and an Older Speaker while this fic focuses on an Older Belmont and a Young Speaker. I hope you enjoyed!

[bbkoolkatz]

pairing: barbarian prince! katsuki bakugo x fem! reader.

content warnings: FEMALE READER! violence and injuries, cultural discrimination, prejudice, xenophobia, social ostracism toward the protagonist (you), intense conflict, gender dynamics, emotional distress, animal death, harsh environments, power struggles, language barriers. [lemme know if I forgot something]

sorry if this seems scattered. it was written when I got time and I barely had any during the past two days ╥﹏╥

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 ~ 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗! 4.1k words

prologue!

your world got significantly smaller, restricted behind these stone walls. you sat on the edge of the window of your new chambers, staring out at the vast, jagged landscapes that surrounded you, awaiting your husband's daily visit.

for these past few days, everytime katsuki came to see you, he was covered in soot, sweat, or this amazingly, deliciously, sweet aroma. and you wondered which of them he'd come with today.

the biting chill of the air that graced your skin gave you goosebumps, as you shivered, taking a frigid breath in, "ragna," you murmur, turning to the tall, sturdy woman who stood silently by the doorway.

she stepped forward, expression neutral as ever. she'd been a constant presence since your arrival, being the only one capable of bridging the gap between you and this new world. "yes?" she answered, waiting for what comes next.

"can you tell me about your people?" you hesitated a bit, "i want to understand." patting the cold stone next you.

ragna's expression softened slightly, and she moved closer, making herself comfortable, "of course, my lady," she smiled, "what do you wish to know?"

you gestured vaguely to the walls around you, "everything. how things work. the customs. start anywhere."

her lips twitched, holding back her eager grin, "as you can see, my lady, our clan is nothing like your kingdom," she started, guiding your head to look out the window again and down to where the people were hard at worked in their fields, and moving about with logs on their shoulders, "here, our women hold power. they are life and death."

your brows knitted together at her word phrasing, "how so?"

ragna's voice grew steadier, carrying a note of pride as she spoke of her people, "in your land, men rule because they are stronger. here, women rule because they create. the clan mother is the heart of the people. she births the warriors, guides their steps, and ensures the clan's survival. she is the one who holds the true power."

"she is our leader. a fierce woman, strong and wise." her hands form fists subconsciously, "the men may wield their axes, but it is she who determines where and when they fall. she is not to be taken lightly."

you leaned back, feeling every bump of stone bound together against you, processing everything she said. "this is why they seem so different from my people?"

ragna nodded, "men may sacrifice their children for their people, but women sacrifice everything for their children." your thoughts briefly flashed back to your father... "your arrival disrupts the balance, my lady. some believe you weaken us. others fear change. you are our future." bringing a hand forward to hold yours.

"do they hate me?" you blurted out, fiddling with your fingers as you looked up to the conflicted look that overtook ragna's face.

she hesitated, thinking carefully, "some fear you. others... yes, they do hate you. they see you as weak." she didn't lie, if they could they'd iliminate the weakness on the spot.

your chest tightened, but you straightened your posture, brushing it off. "they too were once weak." you brought your stare up to her's, "and just as they grew stronger, so will i."

before ragna could reply, heavy footsteps echoed in the hall, and both your heads quickly snapped toward the door. katsuki entered, his broad frame making your heart race as your eyes land on him, his presence thickening the atmosphere.

his red hot glare, sharp and unyielding, flicked between you then ragna, and back you, all the way down to your trinket covered ankles that jingle as you walk.

his beefy arms squish you into his chest—a custom you introduced him to as a way of greeting you instead of awkwardly standing in front of you for 20 minutes— and you couldn't help the stupid smile that crawled it's way onto your face, "hvat eru þeir að segja?" katsuki rasped, his tone curt and seemingly straight to the point. ragna stood up, and rattled out a bunch of incoherent words and sentences and your eyes darted up between them, back and forth.

katsuki's jaw clenched, his gaze shifting back down to you. "ekki skiptir máli hvað þeir hugsa," he snapped, turning away. though you didn't understand his words, his displeasure was clear.

ragna's translation was quiet, her attention coming back to you, "he says it doesn't matter what they think."

you rose to your feet, immediately connecting the dots—ragna ratted your doubts out...— you lift your chin to look up at him, "it does matter. if they hate me, it's only a matter of time before they act on it." and ragna's voice echoed behind yours.

katsuki's lip twitched in frustration, but he said nothing. instead, he rested a hefty palm on your head, leaving behind a tense silence that settled heavily in the room.

later that day, katsuki returned to your room, plopping—what you think—is a dead boar, down in front of you and he kneeled beside it. you immediately look at ragna for help. "it's for making you sad you earlier." she giggled, resting a hand on her belly.

"sad? i wasn't- oh..." you too started giggling as you realized, "will he do this everytime i get upset?" you chuckled, cradling his head in the soft cushions of your chest, trying your best to hold in your laugh as she nodded. "i'd like for you to show me your village, instead of a dead animal, katsuki." and ragna's voice followed yours.

and finally, he brought you out of the stronghold for the first time since your arrival, the steady rhythm of his boots, leaving heavy crunches in the gravel as he walked beside you, and ragna trailed a little ways behind. you could feel her eyes burning the back of your head with every step you take...

your skin tightened, perking your nipples under the thin cotton draping your body, as the wind prickled your skin, sending a violent shiver down your entire body. katsuki shrugged his fur cloak off and threw it on you, sending you in a stumble with the force.

"hæ!" he yelled, grabbing your arm, "i'm okay, i'm okay," you giggled, looking up at him, "afsökun," he roughly dusted you off. ragna had rushed to you but with a simple raise of your hand she stopped short.

"thakka thyer," you smiled at him, only to grin wider when you saw the shocked look on his face at the almost familiar sounds that graced his ears. "shall we?" you hug his cloak closer as you continue down the dirt paths that lead into the village, tucked into the valley where the stronghold stood tall against the horizon.

the houses were made of timber and stone, thick roofs sloping against the cold, with the distant hum of activity filling the air. you had never seen a place like this—untamed, rough, and yet strangely beautiful in its own way. the land, harsh and unforgiving, matched the people. you had heard stories of their legendary strength, their ability to overthrow kings and destroy rulers. they were known as conquerors, fierce and untouchable, but now, walking through their village, you see a different side.

the first thing that struck you was the children. in your kingdom, children were raised in luxury and comfort, but here they played in the dirt, their faces smeared with earth and joy. the laughter that filled the air was light, carefree, but it wasn't the kind of joy you were accustomed to. it was raw, unrestrained, and full of life.

a little girl with wild hair and a smudge of dirt on her cheek approached you, holding out a small wooden doll. she spoke in their tongue, too fast for you to try to understand, her wide eyes full of hope.

ragna bent down, translating with a smile, "she says you're very beautiful, that she's never seen someone like you before."

you laughed softly, reaching out to take the doll, the weight of it simple, yet comforting. "thakka thyer," you murmured, hoping you said it right, because katsuki looked at you like you were blabbing nonsense when you said it to him...

the little girl beamed, rushing off to join the other children. you couldn't help but watch her go, her carefree spirit so unlike anything you had known. these children, these villagers— had never been pampered. they never had the luxury you grew up with, and yet, they had things you didn't.

as you walked further into the heart of the village, you saw a group of women working together to prepare food—big cauldrons over roaring fires, knives slicing through meat with practiced ease.

their eyes flicked to you briefly in curiosity. it seems this was their first time seeing a someone as small as you. though their stares started to feel more and more judgemental the longer they looked...

a small group of older men sat nearby, their muscles thick and solid, but their hands were not gripping axes. instead, they were working leather, stitching it together with slow, deliberate motions. they were crafting, mending, tending to what was necessary for survival.

it was a sight that shocked you, the great warriors who were known for their brutality now focused on such delicate, mundane work. you had imagined them only as conquerors, towering giants, but here they were, doing what needed to be done for the survival of their people.

you glanced at katsuki, his expression unreadable as he walked beside you, taking in his features that glowed in the sunset. he looked like the rest of them—stoic, hard, and powerful.

ragna, ever the silent observer, noted the look on your face. "is it so different from what you imagined? my lady," she leaned to whisper.

you nodded slowly, taking in the sight of the men working alongside the women, "they're strong," you murmured, "but also... gentle, in ways i didn't expect."

ragna smiled, "that is the balance of our people. every piece is needed. every role is vital." the softness of her expression a stark contrast to the roughness of her surroundings.

as you walked further, you passed the blacksmith's forge, the rhythmic pounding of a hammer against metal ringing in the air. you had seen blacksmiths at work before, but the sheer power of the men and women here was something else. their muscles flexed with each strike, their movements coordinated, and their fire-forged weapons were some of the finest you had ever seen. the blacksmiths, covered in soot and sweat, didn't look up as you passed, their focus unwavering.

you caught sight of an older woman sitting on a bench near the edge of the village, her back hunched but her gaze fierce. her hands were gnarled from years of labor, but she sat with an air of quiet authority, watching the village with eyes that had seen more than most. you felt a sudden urge to approach her, you wanted to know what it was like to live a life so full of struggle, of strength, and survival. you needed to ask.

but katsuki's voice broke your thoughts. "vér skyldum fara aptr." he said, his tone sharp,—almost a warning or perhaps? or just a desire to keep you close?

you nodded, but before turning to head back, you gave the old lady one last glance, before grabbing on to your husband's arm.

-

nightfall came quickly, and the air was biting as the sun descended behind the jagged mountains. ragna was at your side, her presence comforting, though the silence between you was palpable. neither of you spoke as you approached the large wooden doors of the council hall, guarded by two massive warriors. their eyes flicked to you, but they didn't move. there was no hostility in their gaze, but the wariness remained, a reminder of how much you still had to prove...

one of the guards nodded at ragna as she spoke briefly in their language. the doors creaked open, revealing the vast room inside—a dimly lit chamber lined with long tables where the most powerful figures of the clan gathered. the air was thick with the scent of stone, fire, and old wood. the council members were already seated, their faces solemn and stern as they discussed matters that shaped the future of their people.

you couldn't help but feel the weight of all their eyes on you, most didn't understand you and didn't care to. you were katsuki's wife, a foreigner, an outsider—and that was all they saw. ragna whispered at your side, "do not be afraid. you are here to learn, my lady."

with a deep breath, you nodded, chin lifting in quiet defiance. no matter how much they resented your presence, you would stand your ground. you weren't just a pawn in their game—at least, not anymore.

the high table at the front of the room was where katsuki sat, his back straight and posture commanding. his eyes flicked to you as you made your way toward the empty seat beside him. the others at the table were much older, faces lined with experience, each one dressed in the heavy furs and iron of their clan, exuding authority and strength. katuki's mother, clan mother, was present as well, seated at the head of the table. her fierce gaze swept over you as you sat, unbothered by your arrival but no less critical.

"sittu hér," katsuki muttered in his native tongue, his voice low and tight, barely above a growl. though his words weren't exactly warm, there was something almost comforting in the gruff tone.

ragna translated softly, in your ear. "he said, sit here."

you nodded to him, your eyes meeting his for a moment before you focused on the other members of the council. you felt every set of eyes on you as if they were all waiting for you to make a mistake, to stumble.

the clan mother spoke, her voice booming, though her words were foreign to you. it was ragna who translated once again. "we have gathered to discuss the future of the clan. there are whispers among our people that threaten our recent unity, and we must decide how we will face these challenges."

your breath caught in your throat at the translation. you knew there were whispers, rumors— but hearing it spoken aloud in such a cold, clinical manner made it finally feel real. you glanced at katsuki, but he gave no sign that he was bothered by the news. his gaze was unwavering and his posture still.

"torvok's faction grows restless," one of the councilmen said, his voice deep and gravelly, though you could sense the unease in his tone. his thick beard seemed to be the only soft feature of his face, as his eyes were sharp, calculating. "they say the blood of our people is being tainted by this foreign bride."

the words stung, though you refused to show it. instead, you kept your chin lifted and your gaze unwavering, even as the room seemed to close in around you.

the clan mother's voice broke through again, sharp and clear. "i am not blind to the whispers. torvok and his followers believe that they can stir unrest, but they will not succeed. our future is bound by the strength of our warriors, but also by the strength of our alliances. the marriage to the princess was not made lightly. it was done for the good of the clan, for the survival of our people."

katsuki's eyes flicked to you briefly, the tension between the two of you unspoken. he was angry, not at you, at those who dared to question his strength and your place in the clan.

"the alliance between our peoples is the only way forward," another councilman spoke, his voice harsh but carrying a trace of concern. "if torvok and his followers believe the princess is weak-"

"gæt þín tungu. þú munt eigi mæla svá um konu mína aftur." katsuki slammed his fist onto the table, his voice echoing through the chamber.

ragna's translation was swift, "he says, you will show respect." she swallowed the dryness in her throat and you passed her your goblet of spring water, and she reluctantly accepted.

the council members exchanged uneasy glances, but none spoke further. the clan mother observed the exchange quietly before speaking again. "we will deal with torvok's rebellion. it will not disrupt the balance of this clan. the princess will learn the ways of our people, and she will prove her strength."

her gaze shifted to you, calculating but not unkind, the weight of her approval—or disapproval—hanging in the air. "þú munt sýna þeim hve sterkur þú í raun ert."

"she says, you will show your true strength to the people." you nodded, your posture straight and unwavering.

☆.｡.:*❀.｡.:*☆

the next day when evening came, a feast was held in the great hall. the smell of roasted meat filled your nostrils and the crackle of firewood greeted your ears, with the low hum of conversations spoken in harsh, guttural tones. you sat beside katsuki, your presence a beacon of contrast amidst the towering figures of the barbarian clan.

you felt their eyes, sharp and suspicious, cutting through your skin like shards of ice. but you kept your gaze level and expression neutral, even as your pulse quickened.

"ragna," you whispered, leaning toward the woman beside you, "are they always this... tense?"

ragna's reply was cautious, as she too had her suspicions, "they are watching... waiting for something..."

you nodded, fingers gripping the edge of your goblet as you brought it up to your lips.

suddenly, a crash echoed through the hall, drawing all eyes to the far side of the room. a figure, cloaked in shadow, leapt forward, a blade glinting in the firelight.

your breath hitched as the assassin lunged forward, and before you could react, katsuki was on his feet, his movements swift and precise. he intercepted the attacker with a growl that reverberated throughout the hall.

"ek mun drepa þig fyrir þetta!" katsuki snarled, his voice a thunderclap of rage.

the assassin struggled, but katsuki's strength was overwhelming. he slammed the man onto the floor, the blade skittering out of reach.

ragna translated softly, "he says he'll kill him for this." leaning down to your ear.

"katsuki," you called, a soft voice cutting through the chaos. he paused, his eyes burning as they met yours.

"bring him to me," you ordered firmly, walking out from behind your table. ragna's translation was immediate, and for a moment, katsuki hesitated. then, with a grunt of annoyance, he dragged the attacker toward you.

the hall fell silent as you stepped forward, your small frame dwarfed by the imposing figures surrounding you. your eyes swept over the room, locking briefly with those who dared to look your way.

"if you think me unworthy of becoming clan mother, then feel free to challenge me." you announced, "do not sneak or cower to take my life." you pick the assassin's dagger up, admiring the shine it gave with the firelight.

ragna translated each word, her voice carrying them with the same fierce determination.

"what is your name?" you asked, looking down at the struggling figure under your husband's strong arms and he mumbles something while laughing, that makes katsuki dig his knee into his spine even more, "my lady, i cannot translate what he said..."

"you cannot?" you seethed, "or you will not?" turning to face a flustered ragna... "very well."

"raise him to his knees," you spat, watching every muscle flex as your husband obeyed. blood trickled from the corner of the assassin's mouth, his defiance still burning in his eyes despite katsuki's unrelenting grip on his shoulder.

your heart was racing, but you forced your voice to remain steady, "do you have a family?" your foreign words sharp and clipped ringing through the hall. ragna, standing by your side, quickly translated. and his head shot up, giving you a good look of his entire face.

he then spat on the ground near your bare feet, muttering something in his language. katsuki snarled, his hand tightening on the man's shoulder, forcing him lower.

"he refuses to answer," ragna said softly.

"so he does have a family..." you grinned, rubbing the handle of the well crafted dagger. "what is your name?" you asked, tilting your head as you burned the image of his face in your head. short black hair stuck to his forehead as he hugged and turned his head away.

"he refuses to answer that as well, my lady..."

you took a breath in, "it seems he is not proud of his actions. a man who hides his name, does not deserve the dignity of forgiveness."

the rest of the clan murmur at your boldness, their guttural voices rising and falling in the background. your husband's usually sharp gaze now fell soft, with a mixture of surprise and intrigue glinting in his eyes.

"tell them this," you turned to ragna, "this man attempted to end my life, not out of bravery but out of fear—fear of change, fear of the unknown." you looked down at him in pity, trying to think of a suitable punishment. "such fear has no place here."

ragna translated, steadily carrying the weight of your words.

"i will not demand his life," you continued, your voice ringing clear. "but he must face the consequences of his actions." you paused again, thinking. "let him carry a mark that will remind him, and everyone here, of his cowardice."

the murmurs grew louder, rippling through the gathered barbarians.

"what... mark?" ragna asked quietly, her brow furrowing in concern.

"hmm... i'm not sure," you pat your chin with the dagger in thought, "oh! i've got it!" you clap, "burn the mark of a coward into his left cheek for all to see." you clasp your hands in content, a bitter smile itching it's way across your lips.

ragna hesitated, her lips parting as though to argue, but katsuki spoke first, his voice low and guttural.

"bróðir," katsuki barked, gesturing toward one of the guards nearby, he stepped forward, his expression grim as he produced a branding iron. the clan fell silent, the air thick with tension.

you stepped aside, allowing the guard to heat the iron in the nearby fire and you turned to the gathered clan, voice strong in your chest, "let this be a warning to all who think to act against me. i am not a woman to be underestimated." something came over you, you couldn't hold back your words... "i am your future clan mother, and i will protect what is mine."

when the iron was ready, the guard approached the assassin, who now struggled against katsuki's hold, his defiance finally giving way to fear. katsuki held him steady, his jaw tight as the iron was pressed against the man's skin.

his screams tore through the hall, echoing off the stone walls. the scent of burning flesh filled the air, and the mark—a simple, sharp rune symbolizing cowardice—was left seared into the flesh of the man's cheek.

"this is mercy," you said firmly, "remember it."

katsuki released the attacker, who crumpled to the ground, clutching his face. katsuki's sharp eyes swept over the gathered crowd before he barked a command, sending the guards to drag the branded man away.

the hall remained silent, every pair of eyes now fixed on you as your pulse thundered in your ears, but you held your ground with your chin raised high.

katsuki stepped beside you his presence imposing and protective. he said nothing, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary.

"i will say it again for those who did not hear me the first time." you paused, letting ragna finish her translation, "if you think me unworthy, you are welcome to challenge me." gesturing to yourself, "but know this, i will not fall easily."

"i will protect my people everything i have." you promised, "ég mun verða móðir!" and they exchanged shocked looks, at the familiar words rolling off your tongue.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 <————««

"hvat eru þeir að segja?" - what are they saying?

"ekki skiptir máli hvað þeir hugsa." - it doesn’t matter what they think.

"hæ" - hey! or oi!

"afsökun" - apologies

"þakka þér" pronounced "thakka thyer" - thank you. [it's written in pronunciation form when reader speaks 'cause she's learning.]

"vér skyldum fara aptr." - we should head back.

"gæt þín tungu. þú munt eigi mæla svá um konu mína aftur" - watch yourself. you will not speak of my wife in such a way again.

"þú munt sýna þeim hve sterkur þú í raun ert" - you'll show them how strong you really are.

"ek mun drepa þig fyrir þetta!" - i'll kill you for this!

"bróðir" - brother [because katsuki's mother is clan mother, he referred to the guard as brother.]

"ég mun verða móðir!" - i will become mother

if you already asked to be in the tag list and you're not there then please check your settings and fix it accordingly or ensure that you have at least one post on your blog and ask again.

»»————> 𝖙𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙!

@twoplayergaymers @ch3rryjampi3 @lxdystxrdustt @selfishgucci @sleepyfxce @depressed-waffle-time @abinformyobsessions @kodzubaby @cottagedumpling @msjaeger @condy-wants-a-cookie @who-xo @naiomiwinchester @your-mum3000 @weebperson2003 @koigeidi @lanadelgarf @misaki-kira8 @lightsinmycity

mlist!

[honeykaes]

le sacrifice du sang

vampire!neuvillette x reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, vampire au, set in 17th century esc france, blood, biting, ritual sex, self harm (neuvillette cuts his wrist for the ritual), soulmate, xenophobia, praise, creampies, monsterfucking adjacent, unedited

synopsis: for decades the village has been thriving despite the vampiric armies ravaging throughout europe. Cast aside for being an outsider, you are deemed as a sacrifice to a vampire lord to stop the attacks in the region.

Night seemed endless. Most days you would barely see the sun bright outside under the sky. All you could do was sigh, shifting on the soft sheets of the grandiose bed you rested in. A long chiffon nightgown covered your form and rested right at your ankles. You balled your fists on the ornate patterns of the comforter of the bed, golden and navy threads showing off just how much it was worth.

You turned your head to the stained glass window seeing the sun hiding behind the horizon and stars beginning to peak out in the darkening sky—the multicolor light pigmented in blues and purples reflected on the ground as its shadow grew signaling the fleeting light.

Part of you is surprised you're up so early in your new sleep schedule but another part of you questions why you’re even alive right now to look outside the stained glass window. Three weeks ago you were set to die, yet you have lived in the lap of luxury.

All because of him.

Vampires have been ravaging Europe for a few decades now, causing an all-out war in some regions of the land. Your family insisted on heading there despite it, as traders would surely flourish against the nobles desperate for supplies and your nativity allowed you to follow them. 

Trying to settle and trade in Europe began in disaster as xenophobia grew rapid—war, fear, and prejudices clouding their judgment. You lost your family very early on when you arrived in Europe, losing a lot and trying to scour and try to collect wherever you could to mourn and live. France became the best option to live in since the fighting was beginning to cease in the country.

In the southeast part of the region, you settled in a village. You remained there for five years, trying to make ends meet as a seamstress. You always wondered why vampires didn’t attack and slaughter you and the rest of the village as you heard others had faced. The village had not seen an inkling of the dissipating war around it, and you later discovered why.

To appease the vampiric lords and ladies of France, human sacrifices were commenced—one to save all. You weren’t completely sure who the lord of this area even was, yet you were about to find out after the Judge of the town deemed yourself as the sacrifice.

You begged, you pleaded, you cried but no one in the town so much as pitied you. In their eyes, you were an outsider; someone even more worthy of being sacrificed than “one of their own”. Bullshit is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the power to defy it.

That man eventually collected you after, the lord of the southern region of France—Monsieur Neuvillette. When he descended, in navy and black, you thought he was an angel and thought the village already killed you thinking he was an angel instead. 

He didn’t seem human at all. 

Long white hair cascaded down his back and lowly tied towards the end with streaks of gradient blue flowing through it. His lavender eyes, pupil slit, and irises glowing, drinking up every unconscious tick and stubble expression in your body and face. His face was stern, but his eyes seemed kind.

He asked you one question that night.

“What is your name, dear?” 

You answered as his eyes softened, lifting his hand to your eyes to cover your gaze

“Then, (Y/n). I’m sorry circumstances have brought us here.”

Darkness was all you were faced with. In a way, you thought death had arrived, only to wake up in a beautifully decorated room in a château when you awoke.

Neuvillette was kind albeit stoic during your time in his château. Many nights, you’d have dinner with him—his eyes just on you as he quietly drank his silver chalice filled with the iron-rich stench of blood from someone who wasn’t you.

Those nights he would reveal more information about himself and you’d do the same. He told you how he was a lord and has been “in this state” for several millennia. He told you about the rise and fall of empires and even vampiric ones history had all but forgotten. 

Neuvillette also discussed how most of the sacrifices ended up working as servants in the château who he called “Melusines”. 

In the second week since your “sacrifice”, he also mentioned another vampire lord living in this château—Lady Furina. He talked about how eager she was to interact with her subjects, including yourself but he had told her to stay away from you for now as her bloodlust was unpredictable.

But one slip of the tongue had changed the casual conversation into something more serious.

“...She is not to bother you, yet. Not before you are turned at the least.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, lips parting hearing him say those words. Turning? Turning into what?

“What do you mean by that…” you questioned. He placed his chalice down, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts before crossing his arms.

“I apologize. I have neglected to inform you about this since I wanted you to get adjusted to your new life here first,” he murmured. You clenched your jaw, trying to read his stoic expression but it was the same as it’s always been. 

“I admit I played a role in why the Judge had chosen you specifically. When you first settled in the village, your scent informed me that you were my mate. My soulmate,” he replied. You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in shock. 

“Smell me? Soulmate? What does that even mean, Neuvillette?! I thought vampires only were interested in other vampires and humans were seen as food. That’s why there’s a war in the rest of Europe after all,” you shouted. He did not flinch at your raising pitch in tone. He gave a small humorless laugh at your words.

“That’s not exactly true. A curse befalls vampires and those with vampiric natures in more than one way than ��evolving’ from their human characteristics. The same people many see as food can be the only chance to find their mate. Whether unconsciously or not we are always searching, our body craves the touch and affection only our mates can give us, soothing one might say, the soul,” he revealed.

You look down at your plate, half-eaten cake on it before gently pushing it away. There was a pause where no one said anything, but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your chest.

“...Are you scared? Do you need some time to process this? We can save the rest of this conversation later,” Neuvillette discussed. You swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that caught your throat suddenly but refused to look him in his eyes for now.

“H-How would this process work exactly? I’m guessing vampires and mortal humans don't mix well,” you muttered. Neuvillette sighed, grunting in agreement.

“Well. There’s a ritual in a sense to create a bond between each party’s body and soul. The ritual entails copulation and when my fangs pierce your skin in the process. It will signal to both your body and soul that your bond with me has been found and eventually your physiology will adjust into something more like me.”

“...Something that of a vampire,” you whispered, looking up at him. He silently nodded as silence befell the two of you for now. Neuvillette let out a heavy sigh, but the corners of his lips curved into a small smile to try to ease the pain you were faced with.

“I recognize this is a lot for any human to face, so please take as much time as you need. There is no rush, so process however long it will take,” he said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone with the crackling fire in the dining room. 

It had been a year since that night he revealed himself as your soulmate. A year to finally process and accept your fate. You chuckled to yourself finally seeing the sun’s light completely disappear and the moon rising brightly in the sky.

Tonight you would mourn your mortality.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and memories before you called out they could enter. Neuvillette walked in, wearing his own nightgown falling to his ankle, body completely covered in the white chiffon fabric. He stood by the door still, letting you have your space that was resting on the bed.

“Are you sure you are ready? We can wait later to do this. I can wait,” Neuvillette murmured. You flashed a shaky smile before sighing.

“Yes. I am Neuvillette. I promise,” you replied. Neuvillette walked over until he was in front of you, long fingers clasping gently as your chin before lifting it up. Your lips parted in shock gazing into his eyes that softened.

“I’m going to ask one more time, are you sure you’re ready,” he asked, voice low and husky. Your body trembled at the tone of his voice before you slowly nodded your head—you could hear your eardrums echoing out the beat of your quickening heart. 

You slowly lifted your nightgown off and the fabric pools on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable to his gaze and touch. He followed, letting his nightgown fall onto the floor. His body was more muscular than you thought based on the attire you usually saw him adorning in the halls. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

Neuvillette softly smiles leaning in to press his lips against your own. He soon is on top of you, the bed creaked as the weight of two bodies pressed against it. His lips were soft, easily molding on your own while ever so often a sharp pain would poke at your bottom lip. 

“If I’m being honest, I never thought I would experience this. You don’t know how long I waited for this...how I longed for you,” he whispered, as his lips eventually left your own, settling in the nape of your neck. Your body trembled as Neuvillette let his fangs graze against the sensitive skin while his hand traveled down and squeezed the plush of your thighs. 

He finally finds your cunt, cupping his hand at it as he continues to nipple and his along your neck. He soon applied pressure and your hips instinctively began to grind trying to get a lick of friction to brush against your needy clit. Feeling you grind on his hand made Neuvillette chuckle before he opened his eyes admiring the slick now clinging to his palm.

“So pliable under my touch, I’m glad you're enjoying yourself,” he whispered in your ear, hearing another moan rip from your mouth. He soon shifted his position; his thumb now firmly pressed against the nub of your clit pressing tight circles on it. Your form began to twist and your hips shifted as Neuvillette’s hand followed every movement, not budging his focused ministrations once.

His other thumb brushed against your pebbled nibbles, relishing in the way your body jolted from the various sensations. Your breathing became heavy, feeling your entire body flutter inching closer and closer to your high.

“Neuvillette. Neuvillette…I’m—” you groaned out before suddenly Neuvillette completely stopped. You snapped your eyes open in surprise, looking over at him perplexed as his gaze softened and lips tugged in a smile.

“Why did you stop…?” you whispered, puzzled by his actions. Neuvillette leaned in to kiss your forehead while cleaning the slick clinging to his fingers on his thighs as it smeared.

“I needed to make sure you were prepared for me. The ritual unfortunately cannot work if you lose yourself to my fingers, mon cœur. Unless you preferred to wait as I asked earlier,” Neuvillette hummed. You bite your lip, in embarrassment as Neuvillette grasped his cock.

It’s thick, and long and the only vein you could see ran along the base of it. His cock curled up and twitched every few seconds, eager for attention. He let out a grunt, pumping his cock a few times as his tip—flushed pale pink—budded with precum. He rested his length against your slit, letting it slide up and down and gathering the arousal drooling out of your cunt. He let his tip tap against your stimulated clit causing you to shiver before he nestled it against your entrance once more.

As he pushed the tip inside of you, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more before sinking his cock further inside of you. Your nails harpoon against his broad back and you widen your legs wider trying to adjust to his length. Your walls burned at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he descended further inside of you.

Finally bottoming out, he slowly slid out before plunging in once more, thrusting with meticulous but strong strokes. Your body moved to his pace, bed beginning to moan and creak while hitting against the wall. 

He grunted louder in the kiss, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain himself. He leaned up as you tried catching your breath, stammering his name as his breathing became heavier while his thrusts became faster.

Neuvillette parted his mouth to let his fangs elongate before they buried themselves in the nape of your neck. You yelped, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain of his bite throbbed and shot throughout your entire body. You could hear him gulp and moan, sucking the river of blood pouring down at the wound while he continued to rut inside of you.

“Neuvillette…” you whispered out. It was strange. The pain had somehow subsided and your body felt much lighter and aware of his touch and thrusts, trembling in newly found sensitivity and pleasure. It was as if the bite was an aphrodisiac.

Were all bites like this or was it because he claimed to be your soulmate?

He lifted his head, lower face bloodied from the meal he was indulging in—your humanity. His tongue seemed longer, letting it rest against the wound before taking a long stride up to lap up the rest of the blood dripping from the punctures.

Your walls fluttered down on his cock as your writhed, Neuvillette continued to buck—desperate to sink even further inside of you. He sucked a breath in, struggling to keep up with his pace as your walls continued to cave and clamp down.

Neuvillette's hands find themselves beneath you, squeezing the globes of your ass before lifting your bottom half in an attempt to plunge deeper inside of you. His eyes narrowed watching his cock stretch and disappear in your cunt.

“That’s it…you're almost there. Let me see you come undone. Let’s begin our lives together for eternity in the darkness…” Neuvillette muttered, clenching his jaw tight. You squirmed, tears pricking your eyes as you finally reached your high—body shivering and back arching while calling out his name repeatedly. Your walls quivering from your climax were enough for Neuvillette to follow.

He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trial of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.

“Just one more step…please bear with me and stay away,” Neuvillette whispered, placing your hips down on the bed once more. His nails, sharper than before, quickly shut themselves on his wrist—his blood dripping down his forearm. Your eyes and body felt so heavy, your body feeling like your heart was slowing down before you noticed him hovering his injured wrist above your mouth.

Droplets of blood trickled down your chest and chin before finally landing in your open mouth.

As you swallowed, your eyes widened feeling an unknown rush flowing throughout your body replenishing your once tired body so suddenly.

“It…it doesn’t taste like iron, but as if your blood is the purest spring water…”

[whilereadingandwalking]

Naomi Novik's short story collection, Buried Deep and Other Stories, features short stories that range from Greek myth retellings to Pride and Prejudice (but with dragons)—yes, literally, and I was surprised by just how good it was—to fairytale-like tales that only Novik could create.

This book is the collection of a serial novelist. Many of these tales are set in previous or future novel's worlds. That's not a complaint—"Spinning Silver" works on its own as well as a jumping off point for her later novel, and I loved our dips into Schlomance, Temeraire, and even an upcoming world. But it's worth mentioning as there are often two kinds of SFF story collections—a collection of tales from an author who's written many a tale here and many a tale there, and now they're all finally in the same place, and a collection of individual stories that all stand on their own and are written for their own sake. This is the former.

My favorite stories were the ones I hadn't read before, or that felt most divorced from their inspirations. "Buried Deep," the title story, is an astoundingly new and vivid take on the tale of the Minotaur and Ariadne that I will remember for quite some time. "Seven" is a tale of artisans and the guild of potters, of what constitutes art, of pale white clay rumored to be poisonous to its users. The eerie "Castle Coeurlieu" is a Borges-like tale of a mysterious tower and a game of cards and a princess trying to survive a plague. These stories are rich, compelling, and beautiful, and show Novik's brain at its finest.

Content warnings for violence, body horror, xenophobia, classism, anti-Semitism.

[vitontheforestway]

🐛INTRO POST🐛

Hello my beautiful people! I'm Vitória, used to be @vicks but stuff happened, and I needed a fresh start. So new blog, old me (not quite, but is okay).

I'm 23 yo, Uni student from Brazil, I love political themes and discussions (polite) so is main topic for me. I also like astrology so my big 3 are Aries, Leo and Virgo.

I like talking and am always happy to interact on dms, asks and posts. But I do not answer, follow, and want to be followed by blank blogs, porn accounts (don't even bother trying) , dudes who send 🐤 pics will be blocked so the others previosly mentioned.

So thank you to all my old mutuals who I mannaged to find and connect again, you are all amazing and important for me💚💚 I hope to find some of others!

And to those who never saw my old blog and are new here, welcome to my maddness! 💚💚

My main interests are:

Animals ( I love all, specialy cats)

Cooking

Baking

Nature

Books

Writting

Tarot

Astrology

Makeup

Photograph

Nail design

Yoga

Fitness lifestyle

Girlblogging

Warnings🛑

No form of bullying, harassement, xenophobia, homophobia,prejudice, pro genocide comments, pro anorexia or food disorders content and all the bad stuff are allowed.This is a safe space for all, I will Block, report and make exposed posts if needed.

[bardic-tales]

The Leviathan method: Step 16: Develop your negative biases

I find developing prejudices for a character helps strengthen my world building skills. All of my original stories feature it. For example, in Cold as Ice, the Glorendines often are looked at as heathens in comparison to the enlightened Olessans. This can give the events happening in the story conflict and tension.

My fan fictions are no different. As I completed this step of the Leviathan method for Blood & Stardust, I tried to keep in mind how the people on Gaia would react to an actual angel being dropped into their dimension, taking snippets of Dialogue from the games: specially Cissnei and Genesis' comments about freedom and monsters to form some biases with Bianca Moore. Blood and Stardust happens prior to the Nibelheim Incident, as well as Bianca's fall from Grace.

Negative Prejudices

Content Warning: abuse, alienation, classism, discrimination, exploitation, isolation, marginalization, prejudice, racism, social stratification, stereotyping, trauma, xenophobia

In the world(s) Bianca inhabits, prejudice runs deep across different factions and groups and is influenced by centuries of conflict, social stratification, and power dynamics. These biases and misconceptions shape the way Bianca is perceived by the people she encounters. Each stereotype reflecting a larger societal issue.

Economic:

Poor people are lazy and unworthy of respect. This stereotype, often held by the upper class, is used to justify Bianca’s early struggles after Sarah’s death. Even in her later life, those who live in poverty or low status are viewed as lesser, including her time spent in seedy hotels after the cult’s destruction of her family.

Wealthy people are corrupt and exploitative. Despite her brief period of stability with Mordecai, the wealthy, even those who are successful like him, often face disdain.

Biological:

Demonic beings are inherently evil and untrustworthy. Because of her demonic heritage, Bianca is often judged and distrusted, especially in her dealings with those who recognize her celestial and demonic blood. Her father, Azrakiel, being an archdemon, marks her as an immediate target for those who view her as inherently evil or dangerous.

Celestial beings are arrogant and naive. As an archangel’s child, Bianca’s celestial heritage often leads to assumptions that she is naive or self-righteous. The celestials who view her as “impure” further reinforce this, seeing her as a disappointment or a betrayal of her divine origins.

Social:

The Wealthy only care about themselves. Bianca’s mixed heritage and the fact that she is often seen as "other" makes her an outsider, even among the nobility or those who seek power. This bias leads to her being judged as someone who cannot fit in with traditional social structures.

Outsiders are dangerous and untrustworthy. As someone from another world, Bianca is viewed with suspicion and fear by some around her. Her sudden arrival in Gaia leaves her isolated, as some believe she may be dangerous or unstable due to her alien origins. President Shinra blames her for the loss of an assets and Sephiroth’s descent Madness, as she appeared in his life during the Nibelheim Mission.

Professional:

Romance writers are seen as out-of-touch, overly emotional, or self-indulgent. As a romance novelist, Bianca’s work is sometimes dismissed or undervalued by those who see her as overly emotional or not serious. The stigma around romance novels further isolates her from mainstream professional circles, despite her success.

Experiment subjects are seen as mere tools or disposable. In the scientific and corporate world, particularly with Shinra, Bianca is reduced to a specimen. This exploitation strips her of her identity and individuality, and she is viewed as nothing more than a tool to further their experiments

Bianca’s world is characterized by both visible and invisible lines of division, shaped by prejudice and assumptions about those who deviate from societal norms. Her mixed celestial-demonic heritage and outsider status create a complex narrative of negative perceptions. These biases will serve as barriers for Bianca in her current quest for self-acceptance, freedom from manipulation, and peace with her divided nature.

The diversity of Bianca’s world is represented by the mix of celestial beings, demons, humans, and outsiders from other realms. Each of these groups has its own struggles, and their interactions with one another are often marked by misconceptions and discrimination. Whether these biases are rooted in biology, social status, or professional pursuits, this reflects Creation’s deeply entrenched and hard to shake biases.

The misconceptions surrounding Bianca are not unique to her, as individuals who belong to marginalized groups, such as those from different races, classes, or backgrounds will often face the same kind of prejudices: even if it is not because celestial blood flows through them. These biases are used to maintain social hierarchies and excuses for exclusion or oppression.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @whatwedointhecraft @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap @seastarblue

@inkandimpressions

[somethingbcrrowed]

🇭​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇰​​🇳​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇼​​🇭​​🇴​ ​🇮​ ​🇦​​🇲​?​​ 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓁𝓎, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝐼'𝒹 𝒹𝑜… 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓉. 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒? 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓏𝑒𝓃, 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎… 🇭​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇮​ ​��​​🇳​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇼​​🇭​​🇴​ ​🇮​ ​🇦​​🇲​?

Wondering why on Earth I followed you if you're not in the Umbrella Fandom? It's probably for my sideblog below: monbellemonstre (the vampire chronicles multimuse; all return follows will be from this blog, somethingbcrrowed)

CONTENT WARNING: This blog contains material that some readers may find very disturbing. Reader's discretion is highly advised.

. Independent. Selective. Multi-Verse. Multi-Ship. . AU/OC/Duplicate/Crossover Friendly . Please read the rules before interacting!

. Cared for by Jamie / 30+ (she/they) / MINORS DNI

. ✩ Rules ✩ Backstory ✩ Universes ✩ Prompts & Starters ✩ . ✩Tags List✩

Come Find Me At My Other RP Blogs:

intergalacticstarlight (doctor who multimuse ) therainbcwroom (stranger things multimuse sideblog ; follows from intergalacticstarlight, iconless) endcfanempire (star wars multimuse) capitoldarlings (hunger games multimuse, iconless)

CONTENT WARNINGS & RULES (under the cut for mobile users):

CONTENT WARNING:

Please keep in mind that the potentially triggering content listed below isn't the entirety of what you might find here, but it does cover the vast majority of it:

graphic sexual content, prostitution, smoking cigarettes, heavy drug use, alcoholism, fictional religion and fictional religious propaganda or cults, fictional politics and fictional political propaganda, fictional classism, fictional racism/xenophobia/prejudice/color bias (time travel purposes ; nothing graphic, no slurs will be used), demonology, witchcraft, drowning, hanging, suicide, varying degrees of mental illness including C-PTSD, NPD and ASPD, graphic violence, graphic descriptions of gore, major character deaths, childbirth, child loss, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, blood, dubcon, reanimation, necromancy, torture, mind control, brainwashing, memory manipulation and implantation, medical experimentation, living autopsies, medical torture, psychological/emotional abuse and manipulation, domestic violence/abuse, SA (nothing graphic, mostly flashbacks or implications/disclosure) and more.

No matter what your triggers may be, please blacklist them with the format used below and, unless it's something I don't realize requires tagging, it should work to keep it off your dash. Same for spoiler posts.

. cw alcoholism . cw addiction . cw dead dove . cw dead dove content . cw s04 canon . tua spoilers . s4 spoilers . spoilers

DISCLAIMER: WRITING IT DOES NOT MEAN ENDORSEMENT. I will never mock, insult, make fun of, glorify or romanticize any of the topics listed above, nor any of the other dark topics that may lurk on my blog. They will, however, be portrayed realistically which may include glorification and compartmentalization/victim blaming/predator apologia from the mind of Klaus Hargreeves himself as he experiences and processes these things first hand. These topics will always be treated with the most respect possible while still keeping it in character.

RULES:

If you're Mutuals Only (Private) and don’t plan to follow be back once I’ve followed you, please softblock me so that I unfollow you. I'm not mutuals only and even though I have a mutuals tracker, sometimes it glitches because this place loves to fix what wasn't broken.

If I follow you it means I want to rp with you and welcome you to interact, whether it be tagging me in a random starter, inboxing to plot or sending memes and prompts to me. Even if we owe replies and have already sent each other tons of stuff, please feel free to send more.

None of my prompts or memes ever expire, and I encourage you to send as many as you can/want to. The more the merrier. It gives me more to work with and lets me be more creative. Even if I haven't answered many, just send more and the likelihood will increase!

If you're following me from a main blog, please let me know which sideblog you run, especially if your main blog is a personal blog.

Minors DNI. I'm over 30 years old and will not write with anyone under the age of 18. Likewise, all muses must be over the age of 18 to write anything more than kissing, fading to black or implications. If you refuse to disclose your age or I find out you're lying about it I may block you outright.

I also write on Discord, Docs, Email and RPNation for Mutuals whom I've written with at least once or twice before. If you want to rp in any of those formats and we're not Mutuals, feel free to inbox me and we'll discuss it.

Shipping happens and smut will be present here. I ship based off of chemistry and I tag everything accordingly. I have no problems writing graphic, detailed smut and have no triggers when it comes to the written word (as of yet). I also use Read More cuts and Content Warnings on smut posts. If you don't write smut and/or don't want anything graphic, please tell me beforehand if it isn't in your rules/FAQs.

Don't assume Klaus is in a relationship with your muse, unless you write for David Katz. He also has no children that he knows of, though I'm fine with you sending pregnancy memes (so long as there's enough context).

Unless you're the one writing the thread with me, do not reblog it (liking it or commenting on it is fine, just don't reblog it). If you do, I'll inbox you to ask you politely to remove it. If you do, it's all good and if not, I'll send up to two more reminders (spaced out by a day or so in between, to be fair, as I know a lot of you aren't super active on here) before I block you. You can reblog anything else you find here, unless the tags tell you not to, so MIND THE TAGS!

No OOC hate or bullying of any kind will be tolerated here. This includes actively posting anti content, callouts (that aren’t warranted), sending “helpful” anons or anon hate, things like hateposts about cast members, faceclaims, musicians, showrunners, etc… I don't mind if you roast Klaus in my askbox, though, so long as it's in character. I ENJOYED S04.

No Godmodding, Metagaming or changing context completely without discussing it with me first, otherwise I'll lose inspo for the thread and it'll die out.

[quillandshadows]

🦇Rules, Guidelines, and Writing🦇

Good evening my fellow creatures of the night! Here is a guide for what my blog rules and my boundaries are as well as what I write!

🦇 Minors Do NOT Interact, I am a 21 year old whose blog contains NSFW topics and themes so kindly please get off my blog or it will result in a block.

🦇 This is a mlm/nblm centric blog but I do not mind women interacting, but if i see anyone being creepy or fetishizing in any way I will not hesitate to block you.

🦇 I do not tolerate any sort of discrimination, hate speech or prejudice on this blog what so ever. That includes the following: Racism, Homophobia, Transphobia, Sexism, Misogyny, Xenophobia, Ablism, Body Shaming, and anything else that basically shames a human for being a human. If I see anyone sharing hateful and harmful remarks in anyway it will be an immediate block.

🦇 Absolutely no talking about politics, I cannot stand politics.

🦇 Please request in my asks (I know it looks a lil intimating its just for theatrics I promise) and not in the comments!!

🦇 I do not write for many fandoms on this blog, the ones that I do will be listed in my masterlist. (this may change as my blog grows)

🦇 I mostly write stories involving the characters/monsters/creatures from gothic literature, i.e. vampires, werewolves, ghosts etc., with a male or non-binary reader or an original character. I will not do female readers, any requests will either be ignored or turned into a non binary/male reader (depending on my mood). I do write for ftm/ftnb reader however I don't write NSFW with an afab reader, it will either be amab or unspecified.

🦇 Please be specific with requests, if you want a detailed fic/drabble, otherwise I might take it in a direction you might not like.

An example of an ideal request would be: "A werewolf x male reader with angst and hurt/comfort where the werewolf is scared he might hurt male reader?"

A less ideal request would be: "Vampire with nb reader."

The latter not only is vague and frustrating, but would potentially cause me to create something the requester wouldn't enjoy, so please be a little specific. You don't have to write me a paragraph maybe just a prompt. It helps with my creativity!

🦇 I also always put trigger warnings before my works, that way I can warn any viewer who may be sensitive to such content.

🦇 Lastly, I apologize if requests take a while as I do have a life outside of writing and sometimes I am prone to burn out. So please be patient with me and I will try to get requests done as soon as I can. Thank you and have a lovely day!

[tiger-moran]

First chapter of my 'essay' about Moriarty, also referring to Moran.

Summary: Come with Tiger on a meandering journey through the dark (under)world of Professor James Moriarty and his right hand man Colonel Sebastian Moran, giving an analysis of Moriarty's character and touching on topics ranging from his relationships with Moran and with Sherlock Holmes to his Irishness (or not) to what really happened at the Reichenbach Falls to Death and Chaos, Wile E. Coyote, Carroll's Alice stories and puppet shows.

Rating: general audiences

Notes: While it does address the canonical details, I have also written about some rather more abstract topics, referring to how Moriarty may also be representative of Death and how other symbolic themes may be present in his portrayal as well as speculating about some of the contradictions in the canon, discussing the similarities between Moriarty and other characters and making various other somewhat more random observations. Obviously this will include quite a lot of content referring to Moran also. This is predominantly about the canon but I will be discussing or referring to various adaptations and non-canonical texts sometimes too. I will discuss Moriarty/Moran sometimes and even touch on Moriarty/Holmes occasionally but this is talking about a variety of topics not just queer themes.

Contents/warnings: I will be referring at times to some Victorian prejudices and examples of bigotry including homophobia, xenophobia and racism.

[mortement]

WARNING SIGNS.

Should you be a minor under 18 years in age and a 02 voter, I must implore you to take your leave at once. This is not a mere suggestion, but a serious entreaty made with your well-being in mind.

This little corner of the world is my sanctum—a space wherein I speak and live my interests freely, and at times colored by corporate worker rants and reviews of the things I watch, hear, and read.

Content warnings shall be employed with care and intention, though they shall not shield one entirely from the candor of my musings.

Know this: I am governed by the sovereignty of my own mind. What I deem right or wrong is shaped by personal discernment and a respect for fundamental ethics. As such, I shall offer no sanctuary to homophobia, xenophobia, nor to the cruel rhetoric of zionism or any prejudice masquerading as opinion.

[monbellemonstre]

"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐- 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝?" - M.A. 8.11

. ALL FOLLOWS WILL BE FROM THE URL: . @somethingbcrrowed !!!

. Independent. Selective. . Multi-Muse. Multi-Verse. Multi-Ship. . AU/OC/Duplicate/Crossover Friendly . Please read the rules before interacting!

. Cared for by Jamie / 30+ (she/they) / MINORS DNI

. . Rules - Muses - Verses - Ships - Tags - Prompts & Starters . . . Writing Samples: 0 0 0 0 0

. .Mains: taleswritten ; eladead ; strxgxi ; starlightintheirwake

CONTENT WARNINGS, OTHER BLOGS & RULES UNDER THE CUT FOR MOBILE:

CONTENT WARNING:

This blog contains characters from The Vampire Chronicles. Specifically muses from Interview With The Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, Queen of The Damned, The Tale Of The Body Thief, Memnoch The Devil and The Vampire Armand. (the amc+ television show, the movies and the novels). As such, this blog contains mature content.

I don't remove anything or avoid anything for the sake of comfort as I feel all of it is absolutely necessary to the story, the narrative of the muses that I write and the muses themselves therein. With that in mind, please remember that the triggering content listed below IS NOT the entirety of what you might find here, but it does cover the vast majority of it.:

graphic sexual content (smut; written out in detail with page cuts), prostitution, smoking cigarettes, heavy drug use, alcoholism, body horror, fictional religion and fictional religious propaganda or cults based on real religions, fictional politics and fictional political propaganda based on real politics, fictional classism, fictional racism/xenophobia/prejudice/color bias (no slurs will be used in any form), demonology, possessions and demonic chanting, witchcraft, drowning, hanging, beheading, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, cannibalism, varying degrees of mental illness including C-PTSD, Schizophrenia and NPD, graphic violence, graphic descriptions of gore including torture and dismemberment, blood fetishization, blood drinking, blood letting, major character deaths, childbirth, child loss, pregnancy, pregnancy loss (miscarriage and stillbirth), blood, non/dubcon due to power dynamics or mind control/vampire mind tricks, reanimation, necromancy, mind control in general, brainwashing, memory manipulation and implantation, medical experimentation, living autopsies, psychological/emotional abuse and manipulation, domestic violence/abuse and more.

No matter what your triggers may be, please blacklist them with the format used below and, unless it's something I don't realize requires tagging, it should work to keep it off your dash. . cw alcoholism . cw addiction . cw dead dove . cw dead dove content DISCLAIMER: WRITING IT DOES NOT MEAN ENDORSEMENT. I will never mock, insult, make fun of, glorify or romanticize any of the topics listed above, nor any of the other dark topics that may lurk on my blog. They will, however, be portrayed realistically according to the canon, which may include glorification and compartmentalization/ victim blaming/ predator apologia from the muses themselves as they experience and process these things first hand. These topics will always be treated with the most respect possible while still keeping everything in character.

THE RULES:

IF YOU’RE PRIVATE/MUTUALS ONLY and don’t plan to follow be back once I’ve followed you, please softblock me so that I unfollow you. I have a mutuals tracker but it glitches sometimes.

IF I FOLLOW YOU IT MEANS I WANT TO WRITE WITH YOU. If I follow you and there’s something in your rules that would prevent us from writing together, it was an oversight. Simply softblock me so I unfollow you or hardblock me if you feel the need.

IF YOU FOLLOW ME USING A MAIN BLOG FOR A SIDEBLOG THAT I’VE FOLLOWED, please let me know which sideblog it’s for if it’s not obvious or linked somewhere on your blog.

I’M 30+ IN AGE AND I DO NOT WRITE WITH ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Even if the things we would be writing are entirely free of anything inappropriate, I will not write with you unless you're at least 18 and even then I'd prefer over 21 if possible. The muses also have to be over 18 in age for there to be anything more than non-detailed kissing/‘making out’ and fading to black.

I DO HAVE A DISCORD as well as a RoleplayNation account, both of which are available to MUTUALS of mine upon request.

This blog is INDEPENDENT & SELECTIVE. That means it’s not based off of or directly linked to any other roleplaying blog on this site or anywhere else and that I’m very selective about who I write with.

This blog is MULTIMUSE, MULTISHIP, MULTIVERSE, OCS, CROSSOVERS & DUPLICATES FRIENDLY. Multimuse means I write for many different muses/characters on this blog. Multiship means I write several different relationships for my muses, and they’re all separate and individual unless specified otherwise. Multiverse means I write my muses in different Universes, sometimes totally different (Alternate) and sometimes along the same vein just slightly altered (canon divergent or crossovers). OC’s, Crossovers and Duplicates means I welcome original characters, crossovers between fandoms and that I don’t mind if you write for the same muses that I do. If you want to block a muse tag of mine, please see my Tags List.

SHIPPING HAPPENS AND SMUT/GRAPHIC CONTENT WILL BE PRESENT HERE. I tag everything accordingly. I also ship mainly based off of chemistry and chemistry alone, regardless of who the muse happens to be. See my Tags List for how to format blacklisted tags.

UNLESS YOU’RE WRITING THE THREADS WITH ME, DON’T REBLOG THEM. You can reblog lyricals, musings and headcanons unless stated otherwise in the tags though.

NO HATE OR BULLYING OF ANY KIND WILL BE TOLERATED HERE. This includes actively posting anti content, callouts (that aren’t warranted), sending “helpful” anons or anon hate, things like hateposts about cast members, faceclaims, musicians, showrunners, etc.. I just don’t want to see it or deal with it. I do not care if a writer is controversial or writing things you don't agree with. I probably do, too! If you constantly engage in drama and these sorts of posts we won't get along. The only exception is if I post something requesting anon hate for in character responses, which I normally never do anyway.

NO GODMODING OR METAGAMING, unless it’s plotted out beforehand or it’s used VERY LIGHTLY in interactions with characters(muses) where that would be possible or even warranted, such as characters with powers/abilities or during violent and action filled sequences. In those cases, SOME godmodding or metagaming may be applied.

DO NOT ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER IS ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MINE unless it’s been seen in canon already, we've plotted it/agreed to it beforehand, it's not on my NOTP list or we’re friends OOC. Likewise, DO NOT assume your character and mine have children, or that yours is a biological child of mine, unless it is canon (i.e. Viktor de Lioncourt). I'm not even sure if that's possible for most of my muses to have children outside of very specific and clinical circumstances.

ANY PROMPTS, MEMES, QUESTIONS OR STARTERS THAT I POST/REBLOG WILL NEVER EXPIRE, meaning you can send them in at any time even if they’re a year or more old. SPAM ME WITH ASKS. But. Please understand that I’m allowed to choose what I do and do not respond to. If I don’t respond to something you’ve sent, please send another thing! I don’t mind if you send 10000 prompts, it gives me more to choose from when finding inspiration to write.

Come Find Me At My Other RP Blogs:

intergalacticstarlight (doctor who multimuse) therainbcwroom (stranger things multimuse sideblog ; follows from intergalacticstarlight) endcfanempire (star wars multimuse) capitoldarlings (hunger games multimuse) somethingbcrrowed (klaus hargreeves blog)

[terebifunhouse]

Learn all about the xenophobia and prejudice of your forefathers in this special "all-othering" installment of Stupid Comics! Content Warning for, uh, everything https://misterkitty.net/extras/stupidcovers/stupidcomics826.html

[annelapin]

Gringo boy

Chapter 1

( A. Arler x Black Brazilian! Reader)

Summary: a girl born and raised in rio de janeiro gets a scholarship to a private high school. There she meets Armin, a boy just arrived from Germany who is trying to adapt little by little to his new reality. (y/n is a bit OC, since I gave all her family members a name.)

Content warnings: bad language, prejudice, xenophobia (a little), things involving depression. not recommended for an audience under 17

word count: 8k

Note: hey guys, how are you? well, this is the first time I've posted anything other than drawings on Tumblr (even though I've been here since I was 13). Honestly, I was and still am a little unsure about publishing this story here. as it is a story told in first person in a very different cultural context than most people who normally read this type of story.

there is also the fact that English is not my first language.

there is also the fact that English is not my first language. I'm doing my best and I know it's not going to come out perfect, so I ask you to be understanding. if you like it, I can translate the other chapters (so far there are 3 published). There's also something I'd like to comment on but I don't know how. Y/N in this story is a black girl, but at the same time, she and most of the characters are Latino, and I don't know what to call that because I don't think it's a very common concept for American readers. however, here in South America, we have black people, and especially in Brazil, some cultural characteristics of each group are quite separate, but in the end we are all Latinos and this can be a little confusing at first, but I believe that with time you will understanding this issue better.

The day started like just another day in February.

The sun hadn't even risen when I woke up. The cicadas were still singing on the land next door, just like the speakers at Seu Jorge's bar that is in front of our house, which emitted the auto and almost deafening sound of the pagoda night, which extended into dawn and almost turned into day.

Even though I moved to this street a short time ago, such things have already become familiar to me. The truth was that this was a universal theme, present in every place I've ever lived, and will probably be present in every next one I'll live.

As well as the familiar sound of my private alarm clock, an offer from my guardians, who couldn't wake up silently and harmoniously like any other normal family.

It was always a rush, my mother fighting my aunt for something neither of them did, but neither of them would take any responsibility.

Even though these are a recurring situation, something in me never got used to it.

And that something made me always wake up in a bad mood.

Not the kind of bad temper that would be resolved with a cup of coffee, or a hot bath. It was the kind of bad mood that could only be resolved with music.

Some time ago, a teacher taught me that the music we listen to directly influences our state of mind.

If we listen to sad songs, we are sad. If we listen to religious music, we feel in communion with God. If we listen to lively and upbeat music, we are excited and more willing.

And that's why my body woke up begging for some Japanese pop music. It might not be my favorite style, but it helped a lot in those times when I needed to induce some kind of positive and motivating feeling.

This would be my first day of school, at a new school, with new people, in a different place.

And I promised myself to be a different person this time, for who knows, to finally live something different.

Maybe make friends, go out for a walk, stay up late on a phone call or just go out for ice cream at the mall. No big deal, just something anyone my age is more than familiar with.

But if I wanted any of those wishes to come true, I would have to take some initiative. And a good first step would be to get dressed as soon as possible. Since I spent considerable time sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the dark and deep emptiness in the corner of my room, waking up slowly and slowly.

So I got up, went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. When I left, I did my skincare routine and mustered up all the courage I had left to start putting on makeup. Trying to find the balance between having makeup on and creating makeup that doesn't make me look too makeup for a school day.

All this while wondering if my foundation would last a whole day in the Carioca summer, when the heat is almost always unbearable for the unaccustomed.

It was unnerving how some uneasy thoughts rumbled through my mind, from whether my uniform made me look like a church prayer circle lady, or whether the hairstyle I did with my braids flattered my face, to even what color stockings I should wear.

Worries that might be considered futile by an outsider, but which at the time plagued me to the point that in the end I ended up choosing anything and leaving the bathroom.

He was wearing a button-down shirt with the crest embroidered on the chest and beige tailored uniform pants. They were a little over-sized, but it was a conscious and purposeful choice.

What would be the reason? None, it just looked better on me.

The clothes still smelled like new, which I didn't know if it belonged in the store or was the fabric's own scent. Much less whether it was a good smell or not, just the standard new school uniform smell.

Honestly, they were futile thoughts, I know. But they were the kind of thoughts you can't shake, even if you really want to.

The only things I was sure of at that moment was that beige was not my color, and that the skirt, which was also a uniform option, devalued my body a lot.

Leaving the bathroom, I went straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

While I was drinking a glass of cold chocolate milk out of sheer laziness to heat the milk, my aunt came into the kitchen, already dressed for her work.

– Good morning, Y/N. Are you excited for your first day? – She went straight to the fridge to get her lunch box, which had been prepared the night before.

–I think – In fact, my desire to experience something new was proportional to my fear of the unknown. If it hadn't been such an important occasion, I don't think I would have gotten out of bed today.

– Look, I know your mom scared the shit out of you, but it's not as bad as it sounds – She tried to flash me an encouraging smile as she sipped her freshly brewed coffee. – There is a boy who was freshman in last year, he managed to socialize very well, despite being the only student in the class who didn't know anyone. You can try to talk to him, I think his name is Marcos, he's part of student council.

I wasn't able to answer those words properly, so I just mumbled some incomprehensible sound as I finished drinking the milk.

– Another thing, your mother is pissed today. Try to dress up a little before you show up in the room, you know how she is. If you go 'anyway' to class today, she'll talk about it until graduation.

– But I'm already dressed.

– I know, but we still have about fifteen minutes. I know you don't like it, but she cares a lot about what people think of you, so she'll only let you out if you're really pretty by her standards. – I know my mom and I know she'd make a fuss if I even tried. leave the house without my earrings.

And once again, I was in the bedroom, rummaging through my drawers desperate for any pair of earrings. And if I was lucky, a choker too.

Luckily, I found some accessories that matched. Soon after, I put on my new all-star, which my aunt had given me, took my backpack and went to the living room.

– Juliana, you don't understand, that woman is clueless, she keeps gossiping about everyone. Can you believe she told Doctor Luiz that I sleep in the middle of shifts? The worst thing is that they believe it, because the disgusting is sinic as fuck. She doesn't even feel remorse – My mom was practically lying on the couch, still wearing her work uniform. She looked exhausted, as usual, but somehow she still had the energy to complain.

– I take my job seriously, and all I don't want is confusion there. But let me wake up in a bad mood to see if I don't put that disgusting woman in her place... Juliana, are you paying attention?

– Of course. Scratches her car, punctures her tires, whatever – She wasn't being serious, but my aunt clearly didn't care about my mom's complaints. Even why, nothing we said about it was worth anything, as she always ignored it and complained about the same thing again the next day.

– I'll hit her face, that's right – She was also bluffing. Never in her life would she stoop so low, not even to prove her right.

As soon as she noticed my presence, her gaze darted in my direction. – Hey, why are you wearing pants?

-I didn't want to take the subway wearing a skirt, I don't feel well.- Which wasn't a lie, even if it wasn't the main reason.

-No, you don't leave this house looking like a man. I'm sure it was your internet friends who put this idea in your head.

-For God's sake, you're the one who bought the pants for the girl. Are you really going to fight her for wearing something you bought?

-You are protecting this girl a lot, Juliana. It's hot as hell outside and you want her to get out of her pants?

-The school's air conditioning is very powerful, it won't get hot. Besides, if she doesn't feel comfortable in a skirt, we can't force it.– Even with my aunt's pleading, my mother kept her naturally judgmental gaze on me, that gaze that could even suck your soul out of your body.

-So Y/N, how's it going?

– I... I really liked how the pants were on me.

– Ok, it's your choice, I can't interfere – She took a little pause and continued. – But you know, ugly like that no one will want to talk to you. Everyone's going to think you're a slum dweller who doesn't want anything to do with life, how do you think about making friends like that?

– For God's sake, Fabiana. Are you by any chance an idiot?

– What it was? Am I lying?

– Alright, I change – And once again, I was in the room, changing clothes and considering if this was really all worth it.a

When I was done, my mother looked infinitely happier. Saying how beautiful I looked, nothing too different from your standard everyday hypocrisy. But she also did her standard mother speech, saying she loves me, and saying it's for us to take care of ourselves.

Honestly, sometimes I don't know how to deal with this sudden change in behavior.

The drive to school was considerably smooth, the bus was packed, but that was to be expected.

My aunt only had three more months of internship at that school, so she was teaching me all the way carefully, for the day she wasn't there to take me anymore.

I wanted to believe it wasn't so bad to get out of the skirt. But honestly, if I had the power of choice, I would never go out like this again in my life.

Unconsciously, I was constantly checking to see if she had gotten up, or if someone was looking too much.

I was beautiful, but I didn't have a moment's peace.

I could barely pay attention to the things going on around me, but I forced myself to memorize the number of the next bus we took after arriving at the subway station.

In all, there were three drives. A van, a subway and a bus. All together, it took about an hour and a half just to get to school.

Walking through this neighborhood felt so…different.

It was fully wooded, so most of the buildings were very inconspicuous.

In fact, I've walked this street at least three times in my life, and I never realized there was a school here until the day I took the test.

It was quiet, peaceful, not much movement and just a few meters from the beach.

For a second, I managed to forget I was going to class, until my aunt stopped in front of the administrative entrance and grabbed my wrist.

– How are you feeling? – Her look seemed a little worried, and with good reason. Sometimes her attention strayed from me, as several sophomores and juniors stopped to greet her. But I knew she was paying attention.

– I don't know if I want to go in.

– Y/N, we came here. Do you really want to go home?

– No, I don't want to go back, it will be worse. Just... I don't want everything to be the same. What if I can't talk to them and everyone starts thinking I'm weird? Oh everyone will Oi start ignoring me and well... I don't know if I can take three more years of this.

– Well, if you want, I can ask Marco to keep you company.

– For God's sake, no. Wait, wasn't his name Marcos?

– Marco, Marcos. It's all kind of similar – She shrugged her shoulders. – You can use that as encouragement, I know you're too proud to accept help from others. So do your best not to interfere.

– Okay – There wasn't much I could say.

– Look, you can go to the secretary. If they piss you off, I can make you a matte tea in the staff room. Just please don't punch anyone, they have lawyers – And it was the first time that day that I laughed at something. – Did you see? If you loosen up a little, I'm sure they'll like you.

– Thank you for that... But I think it's better to go there, there are people watching.

– Now you're going to be ashamed of the family? I held you when you were a baby, be more – Her voice passed a false indignation. – But it's ok, go there, Nega. I love you and have a good day.

She hugged me and gave me a push towards the gate. As I was about to walk through the door, I could hear her screaming in the background things like "go, beauty", "you can do it!", "I love you". All in revenge for me asking her not to be clingy in front of the students.

Now there were more people looking, and some people were laughing. And even though I was freaking out a little, this situation felt funny as fuck.

This was the kind of thing that warmed my heart.

Entering the large main door, you found yourself in the entrance hall.

An exactly wide and spacious hallway, with a fork at the end that led to two separate areas of the school.

On the left, there was a large mural with one of the illustrations from the books by Karl Fritz, co-founder of the school.

But specifically the first book of his literary universe, titled as Gründungsgöttin in the original publication in German.

Now to admit as I do that I know about this... It's something I'm a little ashamed to admit.

To the right, the wall was occupied by a giant trophy case, which ran almost to the end of the hall. There were several records of sports and academic championships from the past, as well as some photos of sports teams over the years.

It was a really beautiful thing to see.

At the end of the hall, on the wall that divided the fork, there was a large bulletin board with the list of students for each class.

As there weren't so many people crowded there, I decided to take a look, even though my aunt had already told me which class I would be in.

"Class 1-B: 1-Annie Leonhardt, 2-Armin Arlert, 3-Bertolt Hoover, 4-Connie Springler, 5-Eren Yeager [...]"

Don't have any João Pedro? No Maria Eduarda?

I had to double check to make sure I hadn't magically lost my reading ability and was making up names.

The first names were even quiet. Annie was a rather common name, perhaps Bertolt was a tribute to Bertolt Brecht. But Mikasa? Floch? I thought our country had laws that prevented people from putting names that would make fun of their children.

But there was one name in particular that caught my attention. It sounded good, had an Amin Khader-like vibe.

– Connie we're in the same class! – A brown haired girl practically screamed next to me, totally snapping me out of my trance and causing me to have a mini heart attack.

– No way! So the principal was lying when she said was going to send a letter here warning us that we weren't supposed to be in the same class! – Behind her was a brown and bald boy, visibly as agitated as she was.

– Sasha, see if my name is on the list too?- Another boy started to approach, so I finally realized that I was probably getting in the way and took a few steps back.

Looking around, I saw many other common back-to-school scenes. Students hugging each other, the dramatic girls crying when they meet again, the boys giving their friends friendly slaps as a greeting, the little groups screaming with joy or lamenting the organization of the classrooms. All this while the aging inspector tried to control the more agitated students.

– Stop being lazy Jean, just look – The boy rolled his eyes and approached the list –Shit, am I really going to have to spend another year with you?

–We love you too, Jean-boy. But look on the bright side, Mikasa will too.- Apparently they were friends with the girl with the strange name.

– Is Mikasa in the class?!- and once again he fixed his eyes on the sheet, but soon his visible joy was replaced by an expression of disgust – Eren is too... And his weird friend too.

– What are you talking about me, asshole? Want to fight in front of the school on the first day? – Now, a tanned boy with green eyes was walking towards us, being dragged by the wrist by an Asian e-girl.

When closer to the time of the bell, the more crowded this room was.

He's saying that that boy you mentioned in the group these days is in our room.

– What do you mean Armin is in our class?! – And once again someone ran to this painting, but almost knocking this Jean boy down during the process. – Shit, is his name. But he wasn't supposed to be in our class, he doesn't know Portuguese well. He had to go to German class.

– Zeke said they ended up with the German class, the demand was very low – Said the girl who was also trying to see the list, giving a shy smile when she finally got it. – He's smart, I'm sure he can handle it.

I know I shouldn't be listening to other people's conversations, but my gossip side spoke louder at these times.

As soon as the bell rang, some teachers instructed us to follow the left side of the fork towards the gym.

I ended up not being able to hear the end of the conversation, as they decided to wait a little longer for this friend.

In high school, we first-year students would sit down and listen to a short talk about the school's history.

Much of it was about Karl Fritz, from his birth, academic career and until his arrival in Brazil.

They also explained why the school was called Santa Maria.

Contrary to what some may think, this is not a Catholic school. And that name was a direct reference to this guy's books.

It wasn't until after a great summary of the guy's life biography that they finally focused on us explaining about our academic part.

They started by talking about the institution's commitment to the education of students, about the exhausting routine that we would have from today, in addition to how the teachers will be there to offer all the support we need.

For me, this is standard school speech. Something that every principal pays lip service to just to sound nice to parents and students interested in studying.

Maybe I was forcing myself to be skeptical, but when I realized it, I was totally absorbed by the narrative they artificially created.

Especially when they talked about extracurricular activities.

Just imagining being able to do artistic activities outside of class time without restrictions made me more than passionate.

From theater, sports, even things involving technology. It felt so… surreal. But apparently these are also things that were part of the study plan developed by him.

They also showed a lot of freedom of thought and political expression, talking about the social actions that the students of the student council practiced, and about the debate teams.

Right after all that proud speech, we were instructed to sort the classrooms into rows and wait for one of our seniors to come along to take us on a short tour of the school.

This school was significantly small, so there were only two freshman-year classes with not much more than twenty people in each.

Honestly, that was a little weird to see. Two class here would barely make a class in my old schools.

And even though as a good student I seem to despise the mess that is a conventional classroom, the truth is that these are the things that make school interesting.

A few seconds later, a boy positioned himself in front of our line. He was tall, with neat black hair and freckles that covered his entire face. He was also the only student who wore his uniform shirt buttoned up to his collar.

– Good morning people! How are you?- He said with a lot of enthusiasm, but no one was really paying attention and they just kept talking. – My name is Marco, I'm vice president of the student council – As I realized that this was the boy my aunt was talking about, a boy from the back of the row gave a shout, which interrupted my reasoning and Marco's speech.

-Guys, speak lower please! The boy is trying to talk.- So the entire row was silent. Some out of politeness, others out of indignation at the way the boy spoke. But everyone was silent, and that was what mattered.

- Thank you...- He gestured for the boy to introduce himself, and the message was captured. His name was apparently Reiner. I just gave up trying to understand. – Thank you Reiner! As I was saying, my name is Marco, I'm vice president of the guild and I'm going to introduce the school to you today.

Then he made a gesture and began to lead us out of the gym, down a different path than the one we'd entered.

As soon as we walked through the door, we found ourselves in a hallway that led straight to a kind of built-in patio with the cafeteria.

There were several benches and tables around a large tree that was right in the center of the outdoor area.

And in the cafeteria area, they had another mural, only this time inspired by the book Kampf zwischen Himmel und Erde, and it was just as beautiful as the one at the main entrance.

The tables were set traditionally, not unlike my old school. Of course, apart from the visible absence of the penises that the students liked to draw on the tables and chairs.

The canteen was very discreet, and had a large marble counter and a small partition where people took their order and paid for their snacks.

Overall, it was a very cozy and clean environment.

The school consisted of a three-story rectangular building.

The entrance hall served as a good divider.

To the right were all the traditional classrooms, from the first to the last floor.

To the left was the administrative area, where I could even see my aunt working, which made for a slightly strange feeling. Upstairs we had the 'special activities' rooms, the one above was the science lab, dance room, computer room, and other things.

And it was precisely in this part of the school that we had our first class.

– So guys, here we end our tour. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, and we will probably see each other again in the next few weeks thanks to the guild elections.- He still had that positive energy from the beginning of the tour, and I was still praying silently that my aunt hadn't told him about me. – If anyone is interested in being part of the guild, they can talk to me at halftime. I always sit with the same people in the outside area, in a circle that always plays MPB, it's not hard to find. If I'm not there, just ask the number of 'Marco who plays guitar' for the people they pass.

Shortly after he left, we entered the classroom. Once I had a general look around the room, I had to control as best I could my childish instincts of wanting to get out and mess with everything.

It was a large, dimly lit room that looked more like a cartoon mad scientist's laboratory.

Shelves with animals in glass, cylinders, test tubes, 3D cell sculpture, life-size skeleton, and what was most shocking, an extremely realistic sarue plush, were just some of the items that adorned the shelves and walls of this room. .

There was even a certain feeling of nostalgia, especially for students who had the chance to visit the national museum once in their lives.

And sitting right on top of the teacher's desk, with the stuffed armadillo in her arms, was a middle-aged white people.

They hair was brown and tied in a messy bun, they wore a white coat with the school crest and glasses. They was also dangling his feathers on the table like a bored child.

– You have no idea how much I love these beginnings of the year. There are so many new faces, so many minds waiting to absorb knowledge – They started, with a little scary mood for a teacher at nine thirty in the morning. – Probably your parents, uncles, brothers, parrots put a lot of fear in you about teaching average. Or they probably said you should make the most of it because the real challenges start in college. Which is no lie, for some high school is by far the best thing ever.

Even though his posture seemed more serious now, them tone of voice was still frantic, the kind you have to stop and pay attention to understand. clearly. – It was in high school that I made friendships that I keep to this day, I fell in love for the first time. And of course, it wasn't my ex-husband, who, by the way, I also met in high school. But for biology – Everyone let out a half-nasal laugh and they smiled back, as if his goal had been accomplished.

Then they jumped up from the table and positioned herself next to the shelf full of glasses and took one at the very bottom of the shelf, which had a snake inside –This is Juliet, a water snake. I found her on a school trip a good twenty years ago when I was about your age – So, They passed Juliet from table to table so that everyone had the opportunity to see her – Everyone from my class said I couldn't take a dead snake home, that it was disgusting, that I should go to the hospital or something. But then our biology teacher, Marcos Antônio, came and said that I could take the snake. Today I see that he just wanted to end the riot we were making, however, that gesture made my day! And even though that day no one chose to come back sitting next to me on the bus, I came back with Juju, and unlike many of those people, she is still a part of my life.

After the snake had been duly admired by all the students, and had left at least a year or two mildly upset, it was carefully put away in the same place from which it had been taken.

– And I know that no one asked, but I was the one who put her inside the glass without anyone's help – His voice passed a strong feeling of pride. – But the point I would like to make is, if you dedicate yourself to the classes, even if you think that everything you learn here is useless. I also thought it was useless, until I realized how much I liked the subject. And it was very frustrating to realize how much cool content I missed that could have helped me in college, or simply to accumulate knowledge.

– I would like during this first class, all of you to introduce yourselves. Okay so many of you studied elementary together, but others didn't, and activities like this are really good for you to get to know each other. It doesn't have to be anything personal, just the basics or what you feel your colleagues should know about you – They stopped swinging his legs and looked at us carefully, waiting for some living soul to manifest.

But it didn't.

–Why all this shyness people? I don't bite, you can talk!– No answer again.

-Okay, I see you guys are too shy for that. Well, we'll have to do it the traditional way. Tanned kid who's been talking in the back row since this class started, introduces himself. Out loud, please.- They said with a more serious tone and a hard look.

When I looked back, I saw the same stall boy from earlier today.

– Hey guys, are you all good? My name is Eren, I live close by, I really like to hang out, I love football and music.

– Do not play! Do you also like football? My dad and brother go to every game. - They returned to his excited state from the beginning of the class and apparently Eren let himself be infected by that energy.

With that, the students were little by little letting go more to talk about themselves.

I've heard everything from the traditional "I like to watch shows and sleep" speech to people who breed carrier pigeons.

Honestly, they didn't look all that different from my old classmates.

Alright, the chaotic anergy was considerably less. However, they still looked like teenagers with great destructive potential.

It was also cool to see the names I saw on the class list get a face, many were completely different from the idealization I created in my mind.

And I was silently waiting for the person I liked the name to introduce himself. I thought he would introduce himself to Eren, since they apparently knew each other, but that's not what happened.

The performances continued, and eventually I had to introduce myself too, and it didn't go as well as I had hoped.

I told about my likes, my hobbies, and like the others, I told them about where I lived and I could hear some students behind me laughing softly and muttering something to each other.

I tried to ignore it, but it was inevitable, this situation ended up lowering my energy.

Mr. Hanji noticed the scene and quickly cast a death glare in the direction of the subjects, who silenced them instantly. – Damn, Bonsucesso is far away, isn't it? I lived there near Tomaz Coelho when I married my ex-husband. It's been a good fifteen or sixteen years now. That place brings me good memories, ok not so many – And they started to speak, but the damage was already done. – This distance is not for everyone, I don't know if I would have the same courage you have at your age. Good luck!

Before I could answer anything, she amended the matter about her ex-husband and started to tell us about their life in Tomaz Coelho.

I even thought about saying something, but who doesn't like to hear about teachers' divorce? This is better than soap opera.

Suddenly a soft knock can be heard coming from the side of the room door. And with that, the teacher composed herself completely and walked calmly to meet whoever was there.

– The class started almost forty minutes ago, where were you? – His tone was once again serious and authoritative, and we couldn't understand what or who was talking to They. – No no, you don't deliver the medical certificate to me, you leave it at the secretary's office. You can sit down and then your classmates will tell you what you missed.

Hange took a few steps back, opening the door fully, allowing us to see the student who was entering the room, discreetly looking for a place to sit.

At first glance, I thought it was a girl, but the closer the figure got, I realized it was just a hairy boy. Wearing that haircut that moms with straight blonde haired kids love to do on their kids.

And indeed, he was a straight-haired blond boy. Really blond, blonder than anyone he'd ever seen in his life.

His skin was equally pale, he had big blue eyes and an uncomfortable expression on his face.

But of all, definitely what caught my attention the most about his apparently was the fact that he was wearing slacks and a long-sleeved shirt under his school shirt.

My aunt was right, the air conditioning here was strong. Strong enough that I was freezing cold in the skirt I was wearing. However, I'm not sure it was strong enough to keep him from getting hot. So really, I was intrigued.

As I thought about it, he simply sat down next to me, but of course, after noticing that the first two rows were completely full.

He also jumped a chair from the couple who were even more clingy now, so we ended up getting really close.

- Hi what's your name...? - He was looking into my eyes, but it seemed like a big effort for him. His tone of voice was shy, with a hint of shame and too low to understand without stopping everything you're doing to pay attention. He also had a strong accent, which even though he was trying his best to disguise it, was still more than noticeable.

- Y/N, what about yours? - I tried to convey as much confidence and sympathy as possible with those few words, since he was the first person that day to talk to me.

- My name is Armin, Armin Arlert.- 'So that was the boy with the cute name? Interesting.' - I was at the doctor earlier today and missed the first few classes. Did something important happen?

– Not much, unless of course you like start-of-the-year ceremonies and school tours – It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't laugh. And I just tried to go along as if nothing had happened – Well, the only thing you really missed was the schedule of classes they handed out to us when we were downstairs. If you want, you can take a picture of mine – I said as I opened my folder inside the backpack to take the sheet and put it on the table.

Armin took his cell phone from his pocket and took a quick photo of the sheet while muttering a "thank you" under his breath.

I also offered to redo Marco's tour of the school with us, but he insisted he didn't have to, and I didn't want to force it.

The truth is that I felt a strong urge to befriend this boy. He looked nice, he wore anime pins and a kitty keyring in his bag, plus of course the Evangelion background on his cell phone. Judging by those little things and the way he acted, he looked like a shy geek. And I was a shy geek too, kind of seemed coherent to people, who knows, sit together at recess and talk.

- But what about you, Blondie sitting next to Y/N. You just need to introduce yourself. Reluctantly, he rose from his chair and took a deep breath.

- My name is Armin Arlert, I didn't study with anyone here before and that's it.

– You don't want to say anything else, do you? Like where do you live, what do you like to do, where does that accent come from, just things you feel your peers should- wait, did you say Arlert?

– Ah yes... I live in Itanhangá, west side, I like to read, and I have an accent because I haven't lived in Brazil for a long time. And yes, my last name is Arlert – And once again something caught the attention of a considerable part of the class.

- Wait, wait, it's a lot of information at once - as if it wasn't exactly what they asked for - Where did you come from?

- Germany.

- Were you raised there or were you born there?

- Born and raised there.

- Cool, do you know a guy named Joseph Arlert? It's just that you have such a similar surname, he taught me at UFRJ and such.

- Look, there's a good chance you're talking about my grandfather.

– OH FUC- sorry for the wording, kids – They gave a light cough and composed herself. – How is he? I haven't seen him for a long time, he stopped teaching for a while and we ended up losing contact. Damn I can't believe it, I liked his classes so much, he's definitely the kind of teacher that makes the class rewarding to watch, isn't he?

It didn't last long, as she started talking frantically, which left the boy visibly cornered.

– Mr. Zoe, could you please speak a little slower? I don't understand when they talk so fast... – He pleaded almost silently, which wasn't loud enough for the teacher to hear.

- Christ, I'm sorry, I got carried away. Well, I'd love to keep talking to you Armin, but now it's time for the boring part of the class. You can sit down now - The blond Channel boy just obeyed without having to ask twice.

And once he was settled, he laid his head on the table, using his arms to hide his face.

He was muttering some confused words under his breath as he tapped his nails nervously over the marble surface. it was something inconspicuous to the students around him, but something about his action made me uneasy.

The teacher started writing our quarterly schedule on the board while explaining the basics we should study before practical biology classes.

It was something important, especially for me who never studied at such a fast pace. However, the aura that that boy exuded was making me uneasy.

- Hey, are you all right? - I got no answer. - Sorry, but you don't look so good. If you want, I have water in my backpack, it's still cold and stuff. If you're obsessed with cleanliness, don't worry, I didn't even drink from it today.

- Nein, dan- he paused when he realized what he was saying - No need... Thank you.

- Are you sure? - I asked as I put my little pink water bottle on the table, next to him. - If you want, it's there. Feel free to fill it in the drinking fountain later - After that, I stopped insisting and started writing down everything the teacher said in my notebook.

A few minutes later, Armin came out in his cornered position and drank the water, keeping his lips a respectful distance at the mouth of the bottle.

– Thanks – He whispered, so that only the two of us could hear, and I just replied with a "ok" and put the bottle away.

After the blond boy had composed himself, he began writing in his binder everything that was on the blackboard. With some footnotes in German, probably reminders of something he didn't know how to write in Portuguese.

After that incident, he didn't dare say anything else during that class, nor did he look in my direction. He just turned his full attention to the teacher, visibly ignoring the chaotic screams of the backroom crowd.

When this class ended and we were packing our things to leave, I was surprised by the teacher's call, just like the boy who was sitting next to me.

I walked towards her a little fearfully, afraid of something bad I could have done, even though it was logically impossible.

- What face is this girl?

- I don't know, I don't know why you called me...

- Relax, it's not bad. And wait a minute there, Arlert boy. I'll talk to you already – I breathed a sigh of relief, until I heard the second part of this speech. - I happened to read your aptitude test and honestly, I was impressed. It was by far the highest score we had that year. But there's something you probably already know but have no idea about, the pace here is much faster than in public schools. I say this from experience, as I teach both types of schools and I know that even my best public student would be bewildered studying here.

- I see... Is that what you wanted to tell me? - A somewhat demotivating thing to hear on the first day of school.

- Yes and no, but the main thing was that if you need help with the subject, you can come talk to me after class. I also came from public school, and it's horrible to arrive with knowledge outdated in relation to our colleagues – They gave me a motivating smile, this speech is definitely something my aunt would say. I just decided to ignore the coincidence and be grateful for the help, as I'm probably going to need it.

I thanked him politely and left the room, leaving the teacher to say whatever she wanted to talk to Armin about.

Even though the teacher didn't say much, my heart was still racing. And I did my best to ward off any negative feelings by analyzing the things around me.

The school itself was very pretty, with a welcoming style.

I went down the stairs and walked towards the courtyard.

When I arrived at the cafeteria and saw that giant queue, my desire to have a snack just went away, so I ended up opting to go to the bathroom.

He was like an ordinary bathroom, nothing more than expected. Of course, apart from the fact that it looked too clean for a school bathroom.

But I ignored that fact, even because it was the first day of school. At least today he should be tidy, he very much doubted that on other days he would be the same way.

When I was washing my hands, I could see a group of girls laughing and talking against the bathroom wall. Nothing out of the ordinary, we already expect this kind of thing at school.

But when I saw that they were looking at me, my energy, which was already low, started to practically crawl on the floor. But once again, I did my best to ignore everything I heard them say.

I thought about saying a few things, but I couldn't.

I stood still, listening to everything, feeling everything, and keeping it to myself.

Coming out of the bathroom, I saw the group of students from earlier today, only now, Armin was sitting among them.

Sincerely? I was happy for him. A few minutes ago he seemed so anxious, and at least now he has someone to talk to.

How I didn't have the energy to do anything else, not even touch up my makeup. I decided to sit on a nearby bench and try to get my thoughts in order, but they just spoke too loudly.

- But like, so you're German born in Germany? - a girl with black hair asked.

- ... Is there another way to be German?

- I don't know, sometimes your parents are from there.

- My father is Brazilian and my mother was German, so technically I'm both...?

- But man, if you're German, why the fuck did you decide to come to this end of the world? - This time it was Jean who was asking the question.

- It wasn't my decision, just... Family problems.

- What kind of problems?

- The family type - And for a small fraction of a second, our eyes met, and he smiled at me.

And I reciprocate, but somehow, I felt overwhelming sadness right away.

Intense pain, even without knowing exactly where it was coming from.

But still, I knew this was going to be a long day for both of us.

AnneLapin © 2022

[whilereadingandwalking]

Dreams Bigger Than Heartbreak was even better than the first book in the Unstoppable series by Charlie Jane Anders. In the first book, Chosen One Tina Mains, her best friend Rachael, and a cast of earthlings chosen to help save the universe all battle the devastatingly terrifying villain Marrant, a leader under the fascist Compassion. The gang is now in Wentrolo, the capital of the Firmament, and trying to figure out their place in the continuing fight against the Compassion as well as the new existential threat of the Vayt. This volume focuses on Rachael, who just saved the world but lost her ability to make art, struggling under the pressure of people who expect her to save it all over again, and Elza, a trans hacker who is auditioning to become a Princess and help save the universe. "When you know the answer, it becomes your responsibility," a small mouse tells Elza in the Palace. This book is a fantastic tome about what knowledge actually means, about its ugly side. When you know of a lurking evil or of corruption beneath the institution you once believed in, you now have a responsibility to tackle it. It confronts privilege, power, prejudice, and the intricate workings of friendship and romance. This book is emotional, uplifting, and action-packed. The world-building was exquisite: I'm obsessed with the nonsensical Princesses in their computer-hive-mind magical Palace. This novel covers art and survival in gorgeous ways. I can't wait for the next volume in this exciting, queer, delightful space opera series by Anders. Content warnings for death, racism, torture, xenophobia, panic attacks/anxiety.

[vaesbian]

about the blog

this is a positivity blog and safe space for lesbians!

i made this blog to spread positivity about lesbian identities (especially about trans lesbian identities), talk about lesbian experiences, and sometimes discuss lesbophobia. although the blog is mainly centered around lesbianism, occasionally there will be posts about other lgbt+ identities as well, as a way to show support and solidarity. anyone is allowed to follow this blog regardless of identity, however it will be centered around lesbianism.

a few important things i want to get out the way:

the way i define lesbianism is “sapphics who aren’t attracted to men”. this definition is inclusive of nonbinary people, but only of the ones who feel comfortable with being included in lesbianism. not every nonbinary person feels comfortable with identifying as a lesbian or with lesbians being attracted to them, so because of that not every single nonbinary person is included in lesbianism, however being nonbinary doesn’t mean you can’t be a lesbian

this blog fully and completely supports transfem people, and if you’re against transfem people in any way, shape or form, you are not welcome here, and you will be blocked on the spot

i don’t tolerate any form of racism, antisemitism, islamophobia, xenophobia, or any other race/ethnicity/religion-based prejudice (however i do want to point out that “reverse racism” and “christophobia” aren’t real things), if you say anything harmful to marginalized racial/ethnic/religious groups i will immediately block you

i do not condone any form of biphobia and transphobia, if i find anything you said biphobic or transphobic i will block you on the spot

this blog supports nonbinary lesbians (theysbians, hesbians, neopronouns lesbians, etc) and is run by a nonbinary lesbian. if you’re against nonbinary lesbians this blog isn’t for you, and i’m asking you not to interact. if you want to know more about nonbinary lesbians here’s a carrd

however, this blog doesn’t support “bi/pan lesbians” since it’s an extremely lesbophobic, biphobic, panphobic and transphobic label, regardless of how you define it. if you want to know why it’s harmful, here’s a carrd about it.

this blog is a safe space for aspec identities, aphobia won’t be tolerated here

lesbian isn’t a “monosexual” identity, the very term has transphobic implications, and it groups lesbians in with their oppressors (cishet people). lesbians don’t have privilege over other lgbt identities on the basis of being a  lesbian. no lgbt identity is the oppressor of another lgbt identity. the oppression the individual groups in the community face is based on different things and is perpetrated by our oppressors in different ways, but that doesn’t mean one group oppresses the other. we don’t have privilege over each other on the basis of our identities (with the exception of cis people having privilege over trans people, and tme people having privilege over tma people)

i’m willing to have peaceful discussions about anything as long as you don’t say anything i find harmful, and if you want me to help educate you about something or find resources so you can educate yourself, you can always ask for help

tagging system:

i try to include image descriptions on all of my posts, if a post doesn’t have an image or video description it will be tagged as #undescribed

i tag original posts as #ev.txt

i tag discussions about lesbophobia/transphobia/racism/biphobia/etc as the word itself, and if something contains lesbophobia/transphobia/racism/biphobia/etc i will tag it as #tw [word]

i tag lesbian specific content with #lesbian tag and trans specific content with #trans tag

i try to use trigger warnings for everything potentially triggering, however if you need me to trigger tag something feel free to let me know

[thewitchchugshercoffee]

It Is Only Logical That I Repay My Debt To You With A Date or Two.

Author: TheWitchChugsHerCoffee

Star Trek: The Original Series

Rating: E

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Vulcan Character(s), Original Vulcan Character(s)/Original Character(s)

Characters: Original Female Human Character(s), Original Vulcan Character(s)

Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, relationships, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, Vulcan Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Sex Work, Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Alien genitalia, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Dating, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Canon-typical vulcan xenophobia, Vulcan Bond, Vulcans and Chocolate, Drunk Vulcans, Ableism, Vulcan Prejudice, Short Chapters

Summary: “Velik, an uncommonly adaptable Vulcan, is rescued by Baby, a human woman with pink hair.

In the guise of a life debt, he pursues her.

This is their love story.“