#[ twist of fate. // bio. ]

[tesnuzzik]

(Unseelie) Faerie Court Twisted Fate skin concept

My take on what the Unseelie court might look like. I hope we’ll get some dark/goth faeries too and it’s not gonna end up looking too similar to the Seelies :)

[skymantle]

omg I forgot to say on here.. it's my birthday:-)

[funnyscienceman]

thinking about twisted fate and thinking about nilah and "tobias felix you're a cheat and a bad friend and i don't like you" and "named herself nilah after the legendary river of fate" and TF. yknow. rivers.

[hee-blee-art]

I'm not even into priests and you managed to make every single one of those guys incredibly hot and desirable and incredibly difficult to choose between

lol I'm glad people find them interesting. what good is a priest if he's not hot and strange and also irrevocably broken in a way that is mysteriously alluring?

[strawberryforks]

whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake x reader

summary: reader didn’t care much for living, the eldest blake sibling made it worthwhile, even enjoyable

warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts/ideation, swearing

word count: 1908

a/n: this one is a bit heavy. i was having a bad day so i will apologize for turning the cutesy “how did bellamy and reader meet” request into this emotional abomination (sorry)

you probably should have been excited to be on the ground. it was that or being floated–tossed into a lock sealed door, trapped, and taunted with the faces of whatever loved ones chose to say goodbye (you didn’t have to worry about that, the only family you had, you met in lock up–your bio dad, marcus kane, was awful and on days that ended in ‘y’, you opted to pretend he didn’t exist) before another door would open and you’d be sucked out into space. the little oxygen in your lungs would tear them apart. what had sustained you for so long would then be your downfall. what you needed to breath would kill you.

you’d be so hot, so hot as your blood boiled and so hot as you died, staring out at the stars you loved so much. you were nineteen, the oldest prisoner to be alive and on the arc, but even kane’s powers had their limits. in three days you would be floated. three days until that would be your fate and still.

still.

when you woke up on that dropship you were pissed. it was the first thing you were mad about.

with a forever fuck-it attitude, you unbuckled your seat. floating around with a few others you ignored your best friend when she told you “sit back down, dumbass!” you cracked a grin and then the lights flickered.

while entering the new atmosphere something went wrong—something malfunctioned. maybe the shutes didn’t deploy or maybe you were just lucky but when the screaming started, you didn’t hear it for more than a few seconds because you were flung into one of the metal walls, just above the seats, and your vision spotted before going disappearing completely. sounds dulled, everything dulled. you were probably dying, you smiled because of that

when you landed, you woke up. that was the second thing you were mad about.

you were suspended in the air in some kind of fabric. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, not until you attempted to stretch your stiff limbs and found the material twisting. it spat you out on the ground and you made a noise. it bubbled from the back of your throat, expressing your obvious upset, you lifted your hand to touch your cheekbone–it was throbbing and you had the vague memory of your face slamming into the dropship wall. at fucking nineteen, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with any of this. you should’ve been floated a long damn time ago, would’ve like to have been too. you were the oldest prisoner on the ark, only alive because of who your daddy was. the daughter of marcus kane (you hate him as much as the next person) you’d been spared. he tended to get what he wanted.

where you lie, a boy does across from you on another makeshift bed. you lean over him, study him. He has some features you recognize. freckles and long eyelashes. you’re peering over him, observing, when those eyelashes lift and he’s blinking up at you. you scoot backwards not wanting to bang heads (yours was quite tender).

the hand that you have been absentmindedly feeling around your face with, came away with no blood coating, “i’m ocatavia’s brother, bellamy.” bellamy blake, okay. you’d heard of him and despite never meeting him before, the stories octavia had told you, mostly about how he protected her and made life under the floor less horrendous, you decided he was safe.

you glance at him, not all that hesitant. your best friend was a force and if she left you alone, in here, with him, he was trustworthy. your lips are pressed into a tight line. you don’t need to introduce yourself, he already knows. of course he does. you assure yourself he knows because you’re his little sister’s best friend and not because you’re kane’s daughter, the one who killed a man and got away scot free. you had a damn good reason but the ark’s justice system was lacking.

you tell yourself he isn’t judging you, he doesn’t look like he is, but you know you deserve to be judged so it’s a losing battle.

you glance down at your wrist and see it’s bare. the band that transmits your vitals to the ark is missing, and when you look at his wrist, you realise he isn’t wearing one either. “lost in the rough landing?” you ask, with a lilt to your voice.

his shoulders shake as he laughs a little. “something like that.”

you sit back up and climb back into your hammock. this time your hands are both out beside you to stabilise yourself. it’s quiet for a moment, the tent dark enough you know it’s night time. “why’d you take it?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“the ark hasn’t done anything for us. they sent us down here to die, because we’re expendable. in their eyes we’re just repaying them.”

oh. so your dad probably thinks you’re dead right now. that doesn’t unsettle you as much as it would the average person–actually you don’t mind it at all. let him learn what it means to fail, to lose, in some permanent way. let him face the brunt of the consequences his actions wrought for once. maybe this sentence would be the one to ruin him.

you stare at the pitch of the tent. are we on earth right now? is it safe? did the others survive? what happens now? your mind is flooded with questions.

“you think loudly.” bellamy informs.

“i’ve been out for awhile, huh?” in response, he nodded. “is it okay? is everyone okay?”

“they are. you almost weren’t though. that stunt you pulled? it was a whole different level of dumb.”

it’s peaceful until sunrise when the screaming starts. Guttural moans and groans echo from within the camp. “That’s jasper,” bellamy supplies while you’re rubbing your head, all but pleading with the ache to subside.

then octavia’s bursting through the tent flaps, “i knew i heard voices!” she pulls you outside with her and just… woah. everything is brighter. unlike the monotones on the ark there’s all kinds of colours. blue sky, green tress. they’re so green and so many different shades. light, dark, sage, evergreen. you’ve never seen anything so beautiful, other than your stars. you miss them, and looking up at the sky you can’t see them only clouds–white floating cotton that moves with the wind. you’re on earth and you don’t know if you belong here but in all fairness you didn’t belong on that spaceship either. the only place you thought might be a good fit for you was now miles upon miles away. a good thing, if you asked octavia.

the “whatever the hell we want” movement was one you supported quickly and joined even quicker. bellamy and his buddies at its forefront you figured, why not. you liked to fight, so thats what you did. you threw punches and received them and slaps to the face. It satiated you need to self destruct and would until bellamy or octavia intervened. you didn’t quite care for danger and took as many guard and patrol shifts as you could. you liked carrying a weapon, liked exploring, and hated being cooped up and confined.

you were walking away from the wall, alone this time, with no particular destination in mind. sometimes you brought octavia with you but she was busy talking and flirting (not in that particular order) her brother never liked when she joined in on your adventures so it was probably better that she wasn’t with you.

“not dragging my sister along with you this time?” a familiar voice chided. bellamy blake. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

you shrug your shoulders and continue walking. “not this time, no.”

“hey! come back. where the hell do you think you’re going.”

“i haven’t decided yet. maybe the river. maybe the caves. maybe, it’s none of your business,” you respond dryly, still walking ahead. his hand clamps down on your arm and he stops you from moving further, “what, bellamy? what?” his eyes, alight with fire, something you’ve seen in your best friend once or twice, full of curiosity, and understanding, meet your own. he gazes into your dead ones, takes a look at your blank expression and bends down. a hand grips the backs of your thighs and then he’s picking you up. you’re slung over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and had you not been so emotionally empty you would've been incredibly impressed. “what the hell bellamy? what are you doing?”

“whatever the hell i want, though, that? it doesn’t apply to you anymore, not when you don’t know what you want,”

“i do,” you argue.

“not when what you want isn’t anything good.” he fires back.

and that’s how you met bellamy blake. at first you hated him, hated how he drug you along wherever he went–patrol was nice but he would insist on bringing you everywhere, even on the most pointless errands. to do the most boring things. he made you drag logs to help reinforce the wall and sometimes he didn’t even help. prison warden or friend, who fucking knew?

but bellamy kept you busy. kept you distracted from the brewing storm in your head.

you got used to him. bellamy blake became your new normal and even made you smile a few times, usually when firelight was reflecting off of both of your cheeks as you roasted your dinner. the first time, you sat on a log beside him, your supper sitting inside of the flames, blackening. he went to grab the stick from you–probably guessing you were attempting to light yourself on fire, or that you’d begun to dissociate. you snatch the stick back. “it’s burning,” he warns, voice having a sharp edge.

“sorry if i would rather taste charcoal than two headed, six tailed, mutated squirrel.”

that night he held you. you let him.

close to his chest and away from any and all danger, you slept soundly and dreamlessly for the first time in years. the sleep–it helped with your mood, too.

bellamy held you again. he always liked to hold you—to have a hand in yours or resting on your shoulder. this time, the touch wasn’t comforting, to assure himself that you were real and not going anywhere. this time that physical touch was the only reason you weren’t going anywhere. his grip was tighter, thank god.

the grounders were coming an the only way to stop them or at least to slow them down was to blow up the bridge. you needed to place the bomb but everyone was terrified to let you go, bellamy especially. you did what you had to, sneaking away and setting it. you were scared–you didn’t know when it happened, when you started wanting to live, but it was a soul-deep change that you knew had something to do with the blake siblings. specifically bellamy, who’s companionship you hadn’t wanted but needed more than anything.

you placed the bomb on the bridge and detonated it, running as fast as you could as the moss covered stone crumbled behind you. the structural integrity was giving away and you were so close tot he edge but… you started to fall. you closed your eyes, pressed them shut as tightly as you could and then that hand was there.

bellamy’s. closed around your wrist and holding on for all he was worth. your heart beat so hard in your chest you had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been speared by a grounder, and that it wasn’t leaking out.

you loved him and you were so thankful he never listened to you. when you said you didn’t need him, when earlier, you shouted at him and told him not to follow you–it was a weak distraction but now, he pulled you back onto solid ground and wrapped you in his arms and you had no regrets. none at all. well… you had one, but it was easily rectified.

it was a struggle, pushing him away at the shoulders, holding him at arms length and seeing the worry on his face all over again. it was a struggle but when you stopped regretting things and dove back in, moulding your lips together in a passionate kiss, everything was better. bell’s hand palmed your cheek and pulled you impossibly closer as yours moved through his hair.

[arabaka]

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ sfw. fluff + angst for the birthday boy! spoilers for chapter 236. 736 words. while i don't mind ageless/minors interacting with my sfw posts, do NOT follow if you do not have your age in bio.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. author's note ⤸ maxine voice from russian doll: sweet birthday baby!!! i had this sitting around in my drafts and honestly been going through it so... we love-self care. also peep the httyd quote B)

He’s already seen everyone else (Suguru, Nanami, Haibara, and Yaga) but there’s still some unfinished business for the strongest, the ill-fated, Gojo Satoru.

After all, it’s a long known fact that Gojo Satoru really died when you did.

“Well,” Gojo stands, dusting off his uniform pants, “Gotta go.”

“Leaving so soon?” Geto asks with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah. Got a date, ya’ know.”

Of course, you’d reunite at an airport terminal of all places. The staple location for every cheesy rom-com movie, where the twist is that both lovers are dead.

What can you say; spending even just a few years in limbo will round out the humor in you.

But it’s also perfect, in its own way. How many rom-coms did you watch with him that had this exact scene in them? How many times had you recreated those corny, predictable scenes anytime you had to travel with sincerity because between the two of you… One couldn’t really live without the other.

Maybe there really is something to this airport effect.

You’re both running so fast, desperate to leave all the time you spent apart in the past.

Gojo sweeps you off your feet, somehow staying grounded on his despite the boom of excitement between the two of you. Your giggles make him giggle and it’s like you were never apart.

When you kiss, he remembers what it felt like when he really had someone to keep living for. 

The memories don’t stop there: a dam of his own making cracks under the pressure before splitting apart entirely. It still hurt to reminisce on those times you shared, even after all those years it never got any better. But with you back in his arms, the experiences have been returned to their original glory. Their original joy.

He can see them all so clearly. 

The look of annoyed disgust you gave him when you met as first-years at Jujutsu High: he never did let you live down your initial distaste for him and you never let him forget why you gave him that look in the first place. But it sure as hell didn’t stop you two from sneaking off to make out when you should have been practicing.

The gleam in your eyes when he told you I love you for the first time: you had cried right after and had him thinking he did something wrong but you more than made up for it when you tackled him to the ground, sobbing “I love yous” right back. 

The warmth of your arms when he’d wake up screaming the nights following the first time he’d lost Suguru: he never could thank you enough for giving him such a perservering comfort.

He’s seeing it all: graduation, birthdays, holidays…

A flash of you and him in the bed you shared, in the apartment you two called home, and the night he proposed… How you said yes before he could even finish the sentence.

And that's where it ends because you'd be gone before the two of you could even announce your engagement.

Gojo never loved after you, didn’t even try to find someone else because no one could ever come close to you.

Now here you are, in his arms again… Where you belong. He kisses you over and over again with the fervor of a man starved, Gojo desperate to reacquaint himself with the way you taste and feel.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” You tease, arms looped tenaciously around his neck; you aren’t letting go this time.

“Pft- You? Never, baby.” His lips skirt yours, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Gojo makes you laugh. He always could.“I think I have an idea.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling as you smile.

“Let me look at you.” You both say at the same time, falling in love with each other all over again. 

With an air of remorse and his pretty blues saturated with sadness, Gojo whispers, “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” His heart still aches like it's become a muscle memory. “I should’ve–”

“Hey.” Your hands firmly grasp his face, “Stop that.” You give him a good shake with that determined look in your eyes he's longed for all these years. “We're together again. I don't know for how long or what comes next but… For better or worse, right?” 

“For better or worse.” Gojo agrees and for the first time in a long time he smiles without guilt, thinking to himself:

“I’m hoping this isn’t a dream.”

[moongothic]

This is gonna turn into some Crocodad Propaganda eventually but putting the man aside for a little bit

Let's be real for a moment. Regardless of who Luffy's other biological parent is, regardless of if they're relevant to the story or not, no matter what has become of that person, if they're dead or somewhere out there alive, etc-- I believe Oda "knows the truth".

Although it took One Piece until post-Enies Lobby to reveal some of Luffy's blood relatives to us, Oda had technically introduced both Garp and Dragon to us all the way back in the East Blue saga. And Ace was introduced not too long after in the Baroque Works saga, along with his tattoo which held that secret tribute to Sabo all along. (Also he was introduced as "Portgaz D. Ace" meaning Oda must've intended to make the two non-blood brothers from the get-go.) All this means that Luffy's family, both adopted and blood relatives, have been in Oda's mind from the very begining of the story. And so if Oda had figured out Luffy's grandfather, father and at least one brother (if not both) from the begining, then why would he not have decided what became of the person who gave birth to the idiot as well? Like considdering how detail-oriented and meticulous Oda can be, would it not be unusual for him to essentially forget about a character that important (in the sense that Luffy literally would not exist without them) and just handwave them away without much thought? Would that not be out of character for Oda? As such, I don't think it is not unreasonable for us to believe that Oda would know what happened to Luffy's other bio-parent. Mind you, it really could be just something like "Luffy's mother died of The Disease when Luffy was a baby", or "the mom fell down the stairs" or "was eaten by a bear in the woods" or something, anything, whatever. Even if it truly does not matter to the story one bit, I'm sure Oda knows the truth of what happened and why that character wasn't a part of Luffy's life.

But at the same time, if the identity and the fate of Luffy's birthing parent truly did not matter to the story at all, then why wouldn't Oda just tell us who that was and what happened to them? In an SBS or an interview? It's not like people haven't been asking about it, because fans and staff alike have been asking about it for years. If the information really would not change anything, be it the direction the story will take or how we view the characters, if it really is just worthless trivia, then why keep it away from us?

Now of course, I'm sure you'd want to point out that one time Oda told Mayumi Tanaka that "A young boy's adventure begins after he leaves his mother's arms. I want to tell this young boy's adventure story, so his mom is not part of it." And Oda isn't known for lying, we do kind of want to take what he told Mayumi Tanaka at face value. At the same time though. If Luffy's other parent did become a plot relevant character in like the final 200 chapters of the story, after a 1100 chapters, they and their potential connection to Luffy would not have mattered to the story for 90% of its run. For an overwhealming majority of Luffy's adventure, that person would not have been a part of it. So if that character did become relevant, and Oda was lying, then it'd be a white lie at worst. But also, if Oda did intend to reveal that other parent eventually, when the time was right, then surely he wouldn't want to get people hyped up about it way ahead of time. If it did turn out to be a big plot twist or an otherwise important plot point, Oda would want to keep it under the wraps and a secret until the right time, you don't want to spoil something like that. Not to mention it could end up working like a distraction and make people not focus on the more important things happening in the story currently. So really, I think we'd all forgive him for a white lie there. Not to mention, technically speaking, if Luffy doesn't even have a mom but two dads, then Oda wouldn't really be lying either.

But that does bring up an important thing to considder.

If Crocodile does turn out to be Luffy's other dad, when did Oda get that idea, and when would he have committed to it?

Because, keep in mind, One Piece began back in 1997. Twenty seven whole years ago. Which means there's two things to considder; the evolution of queer rights over the past near three decades, as well as the fact that One Piece has more than surpassed Oda's original plans for the series. We must not forget how for a manga to remain serialized in Weekly Shounen JUMP, you need to perform well in the popularity polls consistently; if your manga starts dropping in popularity, JUMP can cancel it and force you end it prematurely. Of course, Oda arguably does not have to worry about those polls anymore after all these decades, there's no way in hell JUMP would ever cancel fucking One Piece in this day and age. But that might not have been the case 15 years ago, that was not the case 20 years ago, and that was absolutely not the fucking case 25 years ago. Like we all famously know that Oda originally planned One Piece to maybe run for like a year, then five years, then ten etc etc. That really is because at the begining of his career he had no quarantee he'd be able to tell the full story he was slow cooking at the back of his mind. Back in the early days, One Piece could've been canceled and ended prematurely, so Oda smartly chose to write it focusing very specifically on what mattered to the story at that moment, in the short term. Yes, he did start laying out the groundwork for things to come, but he did it so subtly that had OP been forced to end early, the series wouldn't have been left with too many massive, gaping plotholes or unresolved sidestories. Another thing to keep in mind is how comic artists for JUMP do have editors etc who can have a say in what goes into the manga (famously, Sasuke only existed because Matashi Kishimoto's editor suggested it). So again, while Oda might be able to do whatever the hell he pleases in One Piece at this point, that wouldn't have been the case 20+ years ago. He would have been more or less at the whims of his editors back in the day.

So would Oda have thought about giving Luffy, the main character of the series, a transgender father back in the year 2000? Could that really have been the secret plan from the start? And would Oda's editor(s) at JUMP have allowed that? Or, did Oda maybe come up with the idea later?

Now just so we're clear, I am NOT suggesting Crocodad was Oda's original intent and that his editors didn't let him do it or anything like that, my tinfoil hat isn't on that fucking tight. What I do want to suggest, is that it is plausible Crocodile being Luffy's other dad was an idea Oda was playing around with at the back of his mind from the begining, but wasn't sure he'd ever get to, mainly due to the uncertainty of series' future and partially because he could've been unsure if his editors would even allow him to write that story. And IF this was the case, Oda may not have even started committing to to the idea until around the CP9 saga. Or, it's possible Oda only got the idea sometime after the completion of the Alabasta arc/during Skypiea saga, and started laying down the groundwork for during Summit War so that, if he ever got around to it, he'd be able to commit and tell that story.

Regardless, let's be real.

It is interesting and kind of suspicious how Crocodile does just happen to be introduced around the same time the rest of Luffy's family was first shown to us, even if we didn't know Garp and Dragon were Luffy's family yet (this was also the same time the first canon queer character was introduced; Oda was playing around with queer characters during Crocodile's introduction, possibly testing the waters to see what he could get away with?) During the CP9 Saga we got the Miss Goldenweek cover story, where we see what's become of Crocodile after the fall of Baroque Works. This is of course adding to the world building of the CP9 Saga (where we're told the criminals who go through Enies Lobby are either sent to Impel Down or to Marineford; so us finding out Crocodile's gone to ID is playing off of what we knew would become of Robin and Franky and the Strawhats not come to rescue them. AND it's foreshadowing for the Summit War Saga), but also, soon after we were reminded of Crocodile and told where he's been sent off to, we were finally formally introduced to Garp and Dragon (Garp having already been mentioned by Aokiji at the begining of the Saga). And we close off the Saga watching Ace and Blackbeard have their fateful match. So again, Crocodile was on Oda's mind around the same time the rest of Luffy's family was. And indeed, after Thriller Bark we then move onto Summit War proper, where Oda does all The Things we would considder The Groundwork for Crocodad, most important being the introduction of Ivankov and their Devil Fruit. But again, just like before, Crocodile just happens to be there at the same time as this saga, which really heavily focuses on Luffy's family, plays out. While we learn about Dragon's secretive nature and connection to Iva-chan, Garp's feelings for the boys, Ace's struggle with his heritage and Luffy's love for him, Sabo and Garp... Yeah, Crocodile's just... Also there.

Whenever Oda starts dwelling into Luffy's family, Crocodile is always there. It's a bizarre coincidence if nothing else.

(And oh won't you look at that, Crocodile has once again become a plot relevant character, just in time for The Final Saga where Dragon has also started becoming actually plot relevant as well)

All of this to say, again.

The fact that Oda has refused to tell us anything about Luffy's other parent is sus, and to me indicates that either although unusual for him Oda genuinely just doesn't give a damn about Luffy's other parent, or he's been trying to play it safe for years so that if he ever got the opportunity, he could give Luffy two dads. (Or maybe there's some other twist that has nothing to do with Crocodile, that is possible too, I just feel like if that was the case then why hide it for 27 years?)

Whatever the case, I'm sure Oda knows the truth.

And I'm sure we will find out the truth eventually, be it on the pages of the comic or in the SBS.

[ancient-debris]

So yeah the results came back and they've confirmed our worst fears...... your soul is abnormally large. Like... a normal human soul is usually the size of like an orb you could hold in your hand when condescended and spreads out to around a 6ft diameter to fill around the radius of your body. but yours is like. 300ft in diameter. yeah and it contains multitudes and is the bearer of multiple strings of fate, ties to the divine, and curses of ancient legacies. As well as multiple patterns of fate... that have been sort of coded onto it like tattoos.

...

Yeah this isn't usually a problem but it turns out your soul is slowly trying to unlock more and more things within your mind and body and your body is laughably ill-suited to handle this and your soul is aware of this on some level and it's causing your body to slowly deteriorate. Not just like normal aging but like legit your body is like being blasted with what's basically a multidimensional amount of spirit energy and it's crumbling you subtly on an energetic and mental level. ... The only course of treatment we can really advise is an extensive course of expensive bio-augmentation with cephalopod parts and a titanium exoskeletion. Yeah you'll become a giant of twisted flesh, metal, and bone that most mortal beings couldn't even hope to even understand even a small part of; but at least your soul will be at peace on a baseline normal level. Yeah and a branch of the shadow government has already approved a special grant for these procedures so they'll only cost you like 35$ out of pocket.

[snoutbleed]

Telling a story takes guts.

Forensic photographer Sören Heinrich can’t ignore the nausea bubbling in his throat when documenting someone's darkest day. He loses sleep over the fates he captures but is drawn to the purpose vested in his grisly role. When blood-slicked prints become Sören's next subject, he finds a message that blurs the line between his personal and professional life.

"This is where I’ve been. Don’t follow."

Unable to fathom his long-lost brother’s crimson handwriting, Sören descends into the criminal underworld for answers. The young boar's inner demons guide him toward a morbid self-reckoning.

Direktion 2 has their work cut out for them.

Crime is on the rise in post-reunification Berlin. Among the cases, the Polizeidirektorate in the city's westernmost boroughs is baffled by freak murders at the hands of denizens without motive.

In the shadow of the Berlin Wall, the crime wave takes a supernatural twist behind the lock of a post-Soviet puzzle.

Camera flashes at the crime scenes reveal gruesome secrets stirring in the shadows.

Unravel the conspiracy in #LONG STORY SHORT.

#The Filing Cabinet -- scan the profiles of those in the know. #Bloodstained Polaroids -- view the images of lives gone astray. #Evidence Board -- learn the details of secrets best kept. #Mystery Signals -- behold the lore of the mind melt. Face the music in the official Long Story Short playlist!

Everyone gathers toward the Abschnitt.

There are several Polizei Berlin stations like the Abschnitt, but everyone tied to this supernatural symphony ends up near this Spandau station particularly.

Sören Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The black sheep of the Abschnitt. Sören’s abrasive nature keeps his co-workers at bay, a division widened by their western ideals clashing with his East German upbringing. He distances himself from the station through tight focus on his job, always the first to arrive at a crime scene. Don Jae Hale -- ( elk | tag | bio ) The silver-tongued Kriminalhauptkommissar of the Abschnitt. Hale is quick to dismiss the killings up until his leadership comes under siege by the paranoid public. Umeya Romanova -- ( fox | tag | bio ) The Bundeskriminalamt detective sent to assist with the Abschnitt’s mounting cases. Rumor says Umeya is there for more than the mystery, but her motives veiled by a callous attitude. Marieke Reiss -- ( rabbit | tag | bio ) The star psychology student barely escaped a killing. Now a key witness, Marieke can’t rest easy knowing she could be the next victim, driving her to take matters into her own hands. Reinhardt Müller -- ( donkey | tag | bio ) The Abschnitt’s disgraced ace detective, worn down and living in the grimy corners of Berlin. When crime spikes, Reinhardt tries to relive his “glory days" of detective work. Ukko Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The crime lord defends his territory with brutal but firm methods. He's sworn to his found family, the country's political rift making him protective to a fault. Vorwitz Albrecht -- ( bat | tag | bio ) A gardener with good banners but bad morals. Vorwitz's unsavory career choices put him in the Abschnitt, but he finds a way out with Sören.

Entropy knows no bounds.

Stop, look and listen: stories are everywhere. Behold my settings.

Face more madness in #TALES GONE STALE.

LAID TO WASTE -- an abomination stirs in the bayou, its secrets poisoning a township. THE WASTED LIVES -- a group of galactic fugitives embark on a never-ending getaway on a runaway cruiser. (Links need an update. Stay tuned.)

The mind behind the melancholy.

ACHTUNG! This blog is 18+ for gore and suggestive content!

You can call me Dissy (she/her). I'm a writer with stories and ideas always bouncing inside my head, especially this one. Feel free to ask me about myself, my writing, my characters, or anything else. I promise you I can bark up a tree for hours.

I also do Polaroid photography: check out @hogrot for my shots!

I also encourage comments, critique, etc. about this setting. I want to pace myself while writing this, therefore I have all the time I need to refine this where I can. I don't expect this story to come out for a while anyway, especially as I run it through critiques. Hell, this pet project wouldn't have come into fruition thanks to the feedback of some incredible friends.

Shoutout to PYRY for doing character design and art for this setting, as well as giving his ideas and characters for the Heinrich plotline. Go check out his killer art. This story wouldn't exist without him.

Another shoutout to @tsanapi, an incredible artist who drew the art pictured above. Her sense of style is so keen.

And a final thanks to you, the reader, for tuning into the mind melt. This signals wouldn't have picked up without you.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Bear || Chapter 3

Pairings: Wanda x R || avengers (platonic) x R

Word count: 4.2K

TW: concussion, throwing up, non-sexual nudity, medical talk, talks of overstimulation and non-verbalism

Summary: You join your uncle tony in the avengers, it wasn’t your original plan but you never planned for your powers either so here you are. Now your at the avengers tower and falling for the girl of your dreams. With a haunting past and interesting abilities can you navigate your way through the challenges of being a hero? After a mission gone wrong and a cruel twist of fate the team starts digging for answers. Can tony keep them from finding out the truth?

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7

A/n this chapter is so much longer than the others lol. its also a bit diffrent to what i normally write so… yeah.

While nat laid with you and wanda that night she couldn’t help but wonder why you had frozen, you had looks petrified of the man. Unable to sleep she glanced at wanda and you on the bed before carefully slipping out, wanda would call her if anything went wrong. Plus she told Jarvis to give her updates on when you did stuff and your bio read outs. Sure she was a bit paranoid but she didn’t know how a concussion could effect you or your power and Bruce only knew so much about you.

She made her way down to the lab and stepped in laughing slightly at Tony’s messy hair and five coffee cups on the table. He was slumped over a set of blueprints for something she couldn’t figure out, snoring softly. That would probably explain why he hadn’t come to see you when the three of you returned. Tony often got lost in his work stopping only when he fell asleep, usually more often in his lab than a real bed. He was much better when pepper was here but she was on a business trip so he had fallen back into old habits. What did surprise nat was peter who was also asleep on the small couch in the lab. Tony was usually very strict on making sure peter got enough sleep, seeing too much of himself in the boy. Assuming tony must have fallen asleep before peter as it was the only plausible explanation she nudged him gently with a finger.

After a few more failed attempts he finally woke with a start. Rubbing his eyes nat went to speak, growing slightly annoyed as he held up a hand to stop her.

“Coffee first Romanoff.” He got up to pour some and noticed peter he cursed softly and decided he was best to just leave him. It was the weekend anyway and may knew he was with him. After a few sips of the lukewarm coffee tony gave nat the go ahead to continue.

“I wanted to know more about y/n” she said noticing as Tony’s shoulders tensed momentarily.

“What about her?” He asked feigning disinterest.

“Stark i know theres more to her than she lets on. She froze today. Got knocked out pretty badly.”

“Is she ok?” Tony said worried

“Shes fine wanda and i are looking after her so shell be ok.” Nat said sighing and running a hand through her hair.

“Good.” He said taking another long sip.

“Tony why is the access to her file restricted?” Nat said looking him up and down.

“Why were you trying to access her file Romanoff?” He said gruffly

“I needed to know medical information for Bruce but all that was available was her blood type and some very basic info. Did she not fill out the forms when she became an agent?” Nat asked

“She predates the system Romanoff.” Tony said with a shrug and nat failed to hide her surprise.

“So she’s from before shield?”

“No Shes from before the avengers. Sheila had files on her but” he hesitated slightly.

“What?” Nat said. “Tony spit it out now.”

“She went by a different name for a while. She was with me doing duo missions when i first became Ironman. Then…” he trailed off before clearing his throat “stuff happened and she went by a different name. Now she’s back and with us thats all that matters got it Romanoff. If you want more ask her yourself.”

Nat nodded despite having a thousand more questions than before. What did he means different name? What stuff happened and why didn’t Sheila know more about you?

After a confusing call to fury where he simply said the same as tony, ‘ask y/n’ nat sighed before going back to your room and after a bit she fell asleep.

It was around 2am when you woke up feeling awful. Your stomach hurt and you let out a small whimper. You were confused. Which was to be expected with a concussion this severity. You heard Jarvis but couldn’t figure out what he was saying. Suddenly a low light was turned on and you saw the worried faces of the redheads in your vision. They were asking you something.

“Y/n?” Nat said carefully “whats wrong?” She asked. Wanda looked concerned.

“Baby your scaring me.” Wanda said as you continued to sit there and whine. “Should i get Bruce?” Wanda asked.

“No. Not until we know what goin-“ nat was cut off by you leaning forward as you began to dry heave.

“Aww bubs.” Wanda said rubbing your back and nat shot toward the bedside table where she left the sick bags earlier. Quickly she grabbed one while wanda continued to rub circled between your shoulder blades. Tears pricked your eyes as wanda held the bag under your chin and used her other hand to give soft reassuring squeezes to your bicep. Nat took Wanda’s placed rubbing your back and soon both redheads heard the sound of you finally bringing something up.

“Aww its ok. Your ok. Get it all up. Im here it’s alright.” You paused for a second gulping big breathes, wanda hesitated to take the sick bag away. Thanking whatever higher power was out there she didn’t as you ducked your head and again and heaved some more. Wanda and nat went back to reassuring you.

“It’ll pass sweets its ok your not alone. Natty and I are here. We’re not going anywhere. Take your time baby girl get it all out.” Wanda said.

When you finally stopped throwing up you had tears rolling down your cheeks as nat came back with a damp washcloth and some mouthwash in a cup with an extra cup as well for you to spit it into. You pressed your face into Wanda’s shoulder as she swapped the sick-bag for the things nat was carrying. Nat took the sick-bag seemingly unbothered by the contents and tied it off before slipping from the room to dispose of it properly. Leaving it in a bin in your room was just cruel.

Wanda wrapped one arm around you and holding you close before using the rag to wipe your mouth. Setting it down the tray on the bedside table she helped you use the mouthwash by guiding both cups respectively to your lips before also putting them down. Once she had cleaned you up and resituated you in the bed she shuffled down as well and held you close. Your small whimpers died down and were soon replaced with soft snores as your breathing evened out. After a few moments of admiring your sleeping form the door opened again and nat returned.

“How is she?” Nat asked.

“Better. Still very out of it. Hasn’t said a word. I cleaned her up and she settled back to sleep almost straight away.” Wanda ran her hands thorough your hair tucking stray pieces behind your ear. “Poor things exhausted. Im sorry you have to deal with this nat. If you want i can look after her.”

Nat smiled softly “No way. Shes a two person job right now and someone has to be the adult.” She joked slipping into the bed on your other side. She silently thanked tony for sparing no expenses when it came to the rooms. Which also meant bigger beds. It made sense seeings what she walked in on a week prior to your arrival at the compound.

A week earlier…

Nat wanted to fine tony. Actually nat needed to find tony. Yelena thought it would be funny to dye her suit pink so now she needed a new suit before their next mission which was in a couple days. There as no way she would be seen out in public in a pink suit. She would never live it down. After checking the lab just to find it empty she took the lift to the penthouse. Or the stark master floor as tony annoyingly dubbed it.

She knew he would be here if he wasn’t in the lab or on a mission or in the kitchen getting more coffee. Walking to the bedroom she cracked the door open slightly and had to stifle a chuckle. It was barely mid-afternoon and here in the master bedroom was the mighty tony stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist cuddled in bed with pepper, morgan and even peter curled up taking a nap together in the bed. Tonys head rested on peters shoulder as peter laid on his back with an arms around tony. Morgan was pressed into Tony’s back with peppers arms around her daughter as they spooned. Nat took a quick selfie with the cuddle pile before slipping out quietly.

Later that afternoon she tried again to find tony, walking into the lab she asked him in a coy manner what he had been up to earlier. The billionaire went a deep red and shrugged as if it was nothing. Nat texted him the selfie and shrugged as well.

“I’d check that if i was you” she said when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Tony narrowed his eyes and took out his phone.

“Cant lie to me.” She said when his face dropped. He huffed.

“I didn’t lie i just didn’t tell you what i was doing.”

“Sure” nat said “anyways i need a new suit but i wanna know why peter was in bed with you. I get your wife and child … but peter?”

“Nat we were going to tell everyone at the party later but I guess… pepper won’t be too mad if i tell you now.” He took a deep breath and began to speak again “may has been doing more work lately so she and i came to the agreement to make me peters other legal guardian. Pepper was ok with it i mean … come on she loves the kid like her own son. Peters been struggling with may being gone more and he hasn’t had a father figure in a long time. N-not like i see myself a his dad or anything b-but i hope he will one day.” Tony said and nat clapped a hand on his back.

“Tony thats wonderful. My lips are sealed and I’ll let you in on a little secret. I walk quiet as the dead so peter doesn’t know i heard him but he accidentally called you dad when he was on the phone with MJ. He already sees you as his father tony. The boy is just like you and I’m so happy for all of you.” She said. And tony had tears forming in his eyes. He quickly brushed them away making a mental note to address titles with peter later. He wanted Pete to know he was ok if he decided to call him dad. Nat smiled at the man in-front of her once more before patting his back again and leaving. She knew tony liked to process emotions on his own or with his family. And despite the avengers being everyone’s second and sometimes first family, she knew he would appreciate the privacy.

Modern gay … I mean … day … again…

The girls were happy when they woke at about 6am to find you still sleeping. They were glad you were ok and slept some more with out being sick again. Bruce had told them to expect you to be sick more if you had thrown up, although different for everyone it was known that concussions may make you sick, confused, nauseous and so much more.

After a short discussion with nat about a plan for the morning they decided nat would stay with you while wanda went to make you all breakfast. Nat gave Jarvis instructions on lighting settings for the room, telling him to make sure it was bright enough to see but not hurt your head more. She saved the settings under “migraine protocol 1” so that if needed it could be used again in future for yourself or others. After you remained asleep for a while you began to squirm. Nat was sat against the headboard reading a book from her room when she froze. Feeling you nuzzle into her leg seemingly seeking out skin to skin contact. Now you had found it you settled again and went back to being still and quiet. Nat smiled and relaxed. She knew you trusted her and loved her in the same odd motherly way she loved you but it melted her heart to know you sought her out even when asleep.

After a moment of loving gazes at your sleeping form wanda came back. She had two stacks of pancakes and toppings for herself and Natasha and a bowl of chicken broth, an old family recipe from sokovia, for you. Wanda set herself up on the bed and nat scratched your head lightly to bring you around.

“Y/n/n” wanda said softly waking you up. She resisted the urge to coo as you rubbed at your eyes like a child. “Baby you need to eat something.” She said and helped you sit up. You looked confused. You nodded and allowed them to feed you. As you were in no place to be doing much that required any form of brain activity. Wanda brought spoon after spoon to your mouth, blowing on it softly for you each time while nat watched amused and ate her pancakes with syrup. Once you had had enough you stopped letting wanda feed you and she sighed.

“You did such a good job baby girl, I’m proud of you. I’ll save the rest for later ok?” She said and stood to put away the dish on your desk to clean up later as the bedside currently housed her own breakfast. You shuffled on the bed and stood up. Wanda was quickly by your side and nat even stopped eating to check on you.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Bathroom.” You muttered and wanda led you by the arm to the ensuite.

“Leave the door ajar baby.” She said wanting to be able to make sure you were ok. Normally you would have said no, nowhere near comfortable enough to allow such a thing with a girl who you weren’t even officially with yet and the women who had basically become your mother, but you simply nodded to exhausted to argue and too confused to fully register that the two women would hear you pee.

Wanda guided the door shut and slightly ajar and went to sit with nat on the bed. A couple minutes later she knocked on the wall next to the door.

“You ok in there y/n/n?” She asked, hearing you hum in agreement.

a couple seconds later you came out your hands dripping from washing them at the sink. Wanda chucked and darted inside to grab a small towel. She carefully dried your hands giving each a mini massage while she did and then helped you back to the bed.

“Better?” Nat asked, you nodded slightly more aware. “Good. Because the only reasons you are to leave this bed until we say so are to go to the bathroom and to have a bath.

“Bath?” You asked. Still feeling kind of gross from the mission. Wanda had used her magic to change your clothes but that did nothing for the feeling on your sensitive skin.

“Yes Detka, natty and I are happy to help you bathe. Don’t worry we wont judge and i can use my magic to help you feel comfortable.”

“Ok” you said eyes drooping “can i have a bath after a nap.” You said quietly.

“Sure thing baby girl.” Wanda said planting a kiss on the top of your head.

After a short nap in Wanda’s arms after she had finished eating nat went to run a warm bath. She put in plenty of bubble bath liquid she found hidden in a cupboard in the bathroom. She smiled at the avengers themed bubble bath stuff thinking it was cute. She poured a generous amount in. She knew how to help you feel comfy. The bubbles hid naked skin and she knew this from all the times she herself had needed assistance after missions gone wrong. Heck she had even given wanda the same treatment a few months ago. Wanda and nat had a special relationship. Wanda looked up to nat and nat wanted nothing more than to care for wanda the same as she cared for you.

A moment later wanda walked in with you in her arms. You were still half asleep and nat thought you looked adorable snuggled in her arms. With Wanda’s magic your clothes were replaced with a fluffy red towel and you sighed slightly.

“Baby time to wake up sweets.” Wanda said brushing the hair from your eyes as she situated you in the lukewarm water. The towel was placed by the bath for later as the two women washed your hair. Wanda used a cup to pour the water over your head and used her hand to shield it from your face.

You still looked awfully tired but told them it was ok if they saw you naked. Nat laughed and wanda flushed slightly.

“I trust you and i cant really do much myself.” You said and nat and wanda looked at each other then at you.

“Are you sure?” Nat asked and you nodded with your eyes closed.

“Ok then.” Wanda said. After drying you off and dressing you in fresh pjs, wanda used her magic to change the sheets to something more fresh and the three of you snuggled up again.

You were just about to fall asleep again and wanda was dozing lightly when you felt the nausea return. You pushed it away mentally and fell asleep. In hindsight that was a bad idea. A very bad idea. For no more than ten minutes later did nat look up from her book to see you start gagging still lying down. Nat was quick and precise with her movements. She helped you into an upright position and nudged wanda awake before going to grab you another sick bag. Wanda sat up quickly and began to reassure you as nat wasn’t quick enough with the sick bag. You heaved and half ended up on the sheets and half in the sick-bag as wanda rubbed your back. Tears of shame and embarrassment formed in your eyes as you became more aware. Choking back sobs you apologised between heaves.

“Shh baby no. Its not your fault. Focus on getting it all out. You can do it. We’re here and we love you so much.” The tears began to stop as after another round of gagging and a small amount of bile coming up you finally drew a deep breath and stopped. Repeating the same process form earlier. Nat got rid of the sick bag and you were cleaned up along with the sheets. Wanda had used her magic to clean the sheets making sure you knew it wasn’t a big deal. She told you she would rather you throw up on the bed than hold it back and make yourself worse. She could clean sheets but she couldn’t fix your health if you started to make things worse.

When nat retuned she took up her place on the bed again eying the spot where you had thrown up and wanda explained her magic fixed it.

Settling back into a deep sleep wanda and nat conversed in hushed voiced.

“You know if she keeps throwing up we might have to take her to Bruce.”

“Bruce said it was normal though didn’t he?” Wanda replied

“Yes but …” nat ran a hand through her hair “I’m worried about her. Sure she seems more awake than before but i don’t like seeing her this sick.” Wanda reached over an placed a warm hand on Nat’s arm.

“She’ll be ok natty she’s tough and in a couple days to a couple weeks she’ll be good again.” Wanda reassured and nat smiled softly but still concerned. She had seen her fair share of concussions but yours was particularly bad and despite her training she was worried. As the week wore on you got better and better with their help. You only threw up a few more times, each time worrying the girls more until you finally stopped. Your headache died down and slowly they let you do more and more. Their initial worry about your lack of talking was dismissed by a simple conversation where you explained that when things were too much you reacted in two ways usually. The first you went semi non verbal. Not in the sense you couldn’t speak at all but more that words were too hard and despite being able to say somethings you preferred to speak less or not at all in order to let your brain reboot. It was during these times you explained that sign language was useful and nat was happy because clint had taught her and wanda due to him being deaf. The second was your sketchbook. Drawing helped organise the thoughts in your mind. The mindless activity simulating enough fir you to engage with but not too much to overload your ability to recover. Nat had been sure ever since to make sure your sketchbook was within reach of the bed at all times. Even going as far as to bring some of your art supplies over and put them in the drawers within reach.

So here you were sitting and drawing. The girls knew aside from helping you think you liked to draw for fun as well. It was a hobby and a safe practise you had kept for many years.

Wanda returned to the room to find you drawing while nat snuck glances at the paper. Wanda sat beside you and frowned slightly as you angled the book away from her. There was a simple explanation. Since you met her you had made it your mission to capture her in your art. And despite wanting her approval on the drawings the fear of her hating it or seeing it as creepy was too much. Wanda pouted.

“Will i ever get to see your drawings like nat does?” She asked slightly hurt.

“One day. But not until we become … more …” you trailed off and wanda read your mind as your thoughts were loud not just from overthinking but from the concussion.

“Offical?” She supplied and you groaned.

“Don’t do that.” You whined and wanda smiled apologetically.

“Sorry baby girl cant help it sometimes.” She pressed a kiss to your cheeks which went rosy in the wake of her lips. “If you ask nicely I’m sure i can find a name for what we have.” She said coyly. Nat pretended to be involved in her book but she was watching the budding romance out the corner of her eye.

“W-wands.” You stuttered picking at the hem of your shirt.

“Yes baby girl?” She asked feigning her obviousness to your impending question. You mumbled something she pretended not to hear.

“Speak up baby i cant hear you.” She said in your ear.

“Will you be my girlfriend.” You all but yelled out of frustration. Immedialty you went bright red and buried your face in your hands.

“Aww bubs I’m sorry. Of course i will. Im sorry if i teased you too much.” She said pulling you into her chest as you felt small tears of embarrassment fall down your cheeks. Wanda felt you shaking as you sobbed and she pulled away to hold you at arms length. Carefully she pried your fingers from your face and looked sad at what she sound underneath.

“Love I’m sorry. I know it was too much. But I’m happy my girlfriend is so cute. Even when she cries.” Wanda said kissing your cheek as you hiccuped. “Come here baby.” She said patting your lap as your crawled into her arms. She rocked you slightly as a form of stimming to help you process things. After your soft cries ha stopped she kissed your forehead and pulled you both under the covers. She held you close as you dozed off in her arms.

“Be careful with her wands. She loves you very much but she is still much more fragile than stark.” Nat said with no malice.

“I know. I know and I’m going to do my best to give her everything she could ever want or need.” Wanda said looking at you lovingly.

MASTERLIST

[rookthorne]

it's coming up to my personal favourite event of the year, Hot Bucky Summer, as run by the mods over at @buckybarnesevents!

in order to gear up for the chaos that will ensue (no doubt) from this event within my collections, I have compiled my personal top 10 Bucky collections into a poll. and here is where I will ask for your help — I would like to gather as much information as possible to determine where most of my focus will go.

to be clear, it is very likely that all of my collections will be given love and attention through this event (now that I have confidence to write smut) once I know the prompts, but I am asking who I should prioritise from my favourites. I will also disclose that there are AUs yet to be announced that will be very prominent... 🤭

to refresh memories, I have put below the cut the afforementioned collections! otherwise, the link is hyperlinked above, or easily accessed by the first link in my bio (my navigation).

thank you in advance for your help, my chaos kittens. 💗

— 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you’d become the President’s own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.

— 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯

A pack of wolves looked out for one another, strengthened each other and battled to keep one another safe – it was the natural order of things, the way things worked. Being between the two most dangerous and possessive of them all meant you sat on your throne with pride; just how they wanted it.

— 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm – their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, but you could only hope they’d let the fire they started in the depth of your soul, consume you whole.

— 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 

The world of body art and botany had always been beautiful to you; each pencil stroke and each flower petal amounted to a masterpiece of creation. It wasn’t until the day that a chance meeting left you reeling amongst the artful blooms of your store, you wondered if that was what heaven truly felt like.

— 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

The depths of Hell had lost an asset, all thanks to you - no God could save you from his sights, or his clutches. Being consumed by fire was one way to go, you supposed, if it came in the form of one smug, hellish bastard.

— 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Life in your small town could not have gotten any better, you had sworn. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name, or thought of him. Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

— 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

Cars were all the same to you – classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same.

Well, they were, until you were nonetheless forced to visit your local mechanic and saw the man that would pique your interest in not only every single make and model of classic car, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.

— 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨

Fate had a funny way of working. There you were, in the hospital again, and there was your favourite nurse; tall, broad, devilishly handsome, and not to mention soft, kind, and caring. Your stay, and consequently your life, just got infinitely more interesting.

— 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭

A powerful alpha had locked his sights onto you; a wolf to its prey. On the contrary, you were the fox that showed its belly to a predator – a mutual respect, the only thing keeping the wolf’s fangs from piercing the delicate flesh. You knew playing with his food was something he loved to do, and you would happily be the plaything for your mate. 

— 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

[nomorefstogive]

But imagine creator reader talking with dottore about what he does and he asks why reader isn’t disturbed or against or even shocked and reader just replies with “well you haven’t done what joseph mangla or unit 731 has” and proceeds to tell him things that happened on the medical side of history

Oh hell I can actually picture Dottore being shocked when he hears about them lol.

While he may be a monster in regards to experimenting on people I feel that he does what he does out of a genuine desire to advance the human condition, not quite out of the same wanton cruelty and malice that 731 and 'The Angel of Death' did what they did. And on that same hand, he at the very least works towards a goal that will benefit all of humanity in the long run as opposed to the short sighted and destructive goals of these lunatics.

He wants to advance medicine and science, to usher in an age of enhanced humans who are beyond the fragility and limitations that humanity has been shackled by for so long, and the sad fact is that there comes a point in time where experimenting on people is the only way to advance medicines and science, particularly when ascending beyond limits is your goal.

He is cruel and monstrous in his actions, and yet it is cruelty and monstrousness born from a belief that this is the only way forward, a belief that his ends will more than justify the abhorrent means taken to reach them.

What are a few lives when in the end he may find a way to conquer death itself and ascend mankind to tower above even the gods? The road into hell is paved with good intentions after all, and so morals and ethics are the fuel in the forges of progress in which he hopes to forge the future.

And yet, look at what these people did. How much of their experiments were even remotely done in favor of scientific development and not out of a sense of cruel amusement and morbid curiosity? How much of what they did actually benefited anyone?

True 731's research into bio-weapons was useful enough to spare some of their miserable lives, but everything else? The vivisections on living and conscious prisoners? The tortures they inflicted? Where is the benefit to humanity in even half of what they did?

Nowhere at all. Save perhaps in their own twisted and perverse minds.

Josef Mengele, "The Angel of Death' of the 3rd Reich, his atrocities are as vast as they are varied and are matched but in scale by the scope of the stars above our heads. He deserved a worse death than what he got. A far worse death.

Perhaps he may see a darker and more depraved reflection of himself when he hears of the monster that was let do as he wished to the poor souls who were given to him. A reflection lacking any and all goals and aspirations of greatness beyond wanton cruelty and hedonistic sadism in the guise of aspirations of medical glory.

Perhaps the tales of their wanton sadism and cruelty will be enough to jolt the man, to instill in him some fear of walking down that same path, and lead to him adopting at least some form of ethics or at the very least restraint in regards to his own sadism lest he fall down into hell alongside of them.

While he may continue his human experiments perhaps he will leave it to those who volunteer for them, after all offer anyone enough money and the sky is the limit on what most will do, or perhaps pay a visit to the criminals and inmates who are already locked away and make them an offer, a lighter sentence for a few tests may be the best deal they will ever get.

And for those fated to the noose or the blade, perhaps they may find themselves under the Doctor's knife instead as penance for their own atrocities.

Who knows, maybe a glimpse into the horrors of our worlds medical and scientific atrocities may prevent him and countless more geniuses on Teyvat from following them down on that elevator to hell.

At the very least, these are my thoughts on the matter.

[yunomagic]

What if: sonic sacrifices himself in sonic the hedgehog 3 instead of shadow?

Okay so before we start this, a key thing i want ppl to remember is that movie sonic is incredibly selfless. Like, when tails got hurt for the first time he immediately jumped straight into danger and refused to accept help from his parents and was also willing to DIE for them in exchange for the safety. No questions asked. Hes rlly just too selfless for his own good, and i imagine that quality carries over to sonic the hedgehog 3

ALSO this is gonna be more based on headcanon cuz, the movie is in two years by the time yall are reading this so yeah dont take my word for it. Do what you will with the following scenario and information. Anyways here we go:

First of all, sonic and shadow are probably going to have an interesting dynamic in the third film. Mainly because of their experience with grief and familial loss. Sonic lost someone who was like a mother to him, shadow lost someone who was like a sister to him. They both failed to save the women that played an important part in their lives and were heavily traumatized by their deaths. How the two hedgehogs deal with their grief is where their paths diverge a little.

Sonic spent ten years living in isolation, being afraid of himself and what people will think of him if he revealed himself to the world. And possibly beat himself up so many times for failing to save longclaw, while trying to make her proud by becoming a hero on the streets. Shadow on the other hand suffered from manipulation under gerald robotnik, who forced him to become humanity’s final destruction, although he was created to help it. And instead of beating himself up, shadow became filled with rage and unspeakable hurt. He found it easier to blame humanity for the death of maria and uses his anger as a driving force for revenge. Which undoubtedly, is a more dangerous path of grief he chose to walk on.

Thus, the two hedgehogs are foils, two sides of the same coin. They arent too dissimilar to each other, especially in the roots of their pasts. They learn that there’s more to the other than just looking like each other. Unfortunately, due to drastic circumstances, one of them is going to relive through their trauma of losing someone all over again, and dealing with that same feeling of loss and self-blame.

Everyone knows how SA2 ends, shadow sacrifices himself to save humanity and dies while doing so. But if the film wants to do something different, (and give everyone a huge punch in the gut), they’re going to twist that fate in some way.

Its already in the title but i still propose it: what if sonic was the one who sacrifices himself instead?

Its the final hour, the bio lizard has been defeated, but the ark is still falling down to earth. Running out of time, shadow blurts out the idea that hes going to use the power of the chaos emeralds to push back the ark into orbit, maybe he can save humanity. Sonic, is dumbfounded, shadow is going to die and he knows it. Shadow knows it too, but what other options are there?

Panicking, sonic defaults to HIS way of solving problems. Talking it out. Fast.

“You can’t just throw away your life like it has no meaning! You— You don’t have to use all that power. You can stay with us back on Earth! You can— you can have a life there! Just like you and Maria would’ve wanted!”

Shadow of course is insistent that this is his destiny. His fate. If hes destined to be the last hope to save humanity, then itd be fitting if he were to die. Sonic is still frightened and restless, he’s getting a familiar itch in his throat and a familiar heaviness in his chest. The same feeling he felt years ago, when he was a small, helpless child.

No. Hes NOT going to lose someone to the same fate again.

“You made a promise to Maria, to keep everyone happy right?”

Shadow glances at sonic, eyes widened, knowingly.

“That includes you too shadow.”

“Are you crazy?! If you do that then—“

“I wont be able to go back home to my parents and my brothers, or the townspeople of Green Hills. I know. But they survived long enough even before i came into their life. They need someone who can keep them happy.”

Shadow too, gets the familiar itch in his throat, the familiar tightness in his chest. Fear. Panic. Memories resurfacing. A parallel of maria shines through sonic’s selfless attitude.

“…and that someone is you, shadow.”

“Sonic—“

Sonic shoves shadow away with as much force as he could. A wistful smile present on his muzzle, along with a sorrowful glaze in his eyes. Shadow, with a raised voice, stretches out his hand. Hes trying to reach for sonic.

The blue blur has more experience with the chaos emeralds than shadow does. Making this sacrifice should be easy. If it werent for the grief-stricken ebony hedgehog reaching out behind him. For one last send off, sonic and shadow’s eyes meet for the last time.

Its crazy how they thought so lowly of each other when they first met, and nearly tried to kill each other. But the more time they spent, the more did the hedgehogs realize how much the other is truly worth, and how much respect they hold for one another. Its a shame they wont get to spend more time together back on earth.

A damn shame. But humanity needed a fresh sacrifice.

One pair of eyes, plaintive yet noble, another pair of eyes, staggered and fearful, stare at each other, for one millisecond.

Sonic raises his hand, not to reach back out to shadow. But to wave. Wave goodbye.

“Please… keep them happy for me, okay? Promise me. You’ll protect my family.”

Shadow cant hold back his apprehension any longer. Fruitlessly calling out to sonic for him to come back. To not go away. To not throw HIS life away like it had no meaning. Of course, it falls on deaf ears, and two voices say at once:

“Sayonara, Shadow the Hedgehog…”

Followed by a yell of chaos control, a blinding light, a futile chase for a falling body, and no recollection of being sent back onto the ark. To be greeted by an array of faces. All grief-stricken, mournful, sullen, and unreadable.

Shadow, in spite of his own grief and his own recollection of his past trauma. Does his best to comfort sonic’s brothers. He’ll attempt to do the same to his parents back on earth.

A couple months have passed by then, and shadow has learned from his past mistakes. Right now, he wont go down the path of revenge and go guns blazing in the streets again. Right now, he has a promise to keep. A promise to her, and a promise to him. Of course, thered be times where he wonders and hopes that hes doing enough to keep humanity, the people of green hills, and sonic’s family happy. Hes trying his best, and he’ll keep on trying no matter what.

Shadow sometimes fantasizes about a scenario where sonic lived, and the blue blur shows him around green hills. Rambling non-stop with that annoying (yet kind of endearing) voice of his, maintaining that same charm. Cracking jokes shadow cant understand, showing him technology and culture shadow has to learn. It wouldve been… nice to still have him around. It really wouldve been. He wishes it so.

Tails and knuckles are starting to warm up to the ultimate life form, and the wachowski’s appreciate shadow’s efforts in helping humanity. Understanding that he has no intentions of replacing their son, and cherish everything the ebony hedgehog does to honor green hills’ fallen blue devil.

And even shadow knows that the world is filled with cruelty and sorrow. Yet it was the world that maria wanted to live in, and it was the world that sonic chose to fight for and protect. There’s a lot of awful, sad things in the world. But there are still things, people, worth protecting.

There’s a promise.

Shadow will remember it.

Shadow will never forget it.

And that is why…

He will keep fighting.

(If things are messy sorry ill edit it when i get back from canada which is tomorrow lol-)

[vergilsama922]

Another class steps on the scene!!! Class 74-B!

(人◕ω◕) Ahhh. Heaven of Despair~ That's right everyone. This class has kinda been on the back burner for a bit. But in my defense, I didn't expect Alan Wake 2 to be so damn good. That and of course, I been working and watching anime. But outside that, we have another class and this time shoutouts to @pyropsychiccollector for helping make FIVE Bios! Kisumi, Yumi, Saori, Rika and Natalie!

Well regardless, Makoto is a VERY lucky guy. But also with a new batch that means more interactions and bonding~ Also like always expect a class orgy picture in the near future ;D

Anyways, Enjoy Class 74-B and give them a warm welcome!

(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) And now time for Bios below~

Aiko Fubuki - Ultimate Lucky Student

In the neon-veined heart of Tokyo, where hidden narratives pulse beneath a surface of ordered chaos, Aiko Fubuki's tale unfolded, marked by whispers of enigma and echoes of a destiny disrupted. The child of brilliance, her life was meant to be inscribed in the annals of academic legends, nurtured by the genius of her parents—pioneering researchers entrapped by the grandiose Bible Plan of Hope's Peak Academy's Steering Committee. Yet, their light was snuffed out in a cruel twist, leaving behind only darkness and the shattered remnants of a family.

Aiko's parents had dared to dance with the devils of knowledge, weaving narratives that could bend wills and shape destinies. Their intellect was their sin, and their creation—a system designed to inspire hope—became their demise. The Steering Committee, fearing the power they had unwittingly unleashed, chose to extinguish the threat. In the cold calculus of power, Aiko's parents were mere variables to be nullified. Their end was swift—a shadowy eradication disguised as an unsolved tragedy, leaving young Aiko orphaned and adrift in a merciless world.

Her luck, an aberration birthed from the chaos of her life's tragedy, was as violent as it was fortuitous. It manifested not in the mere turn of cards or the fall of dice but in the visceral reality of survival. It was a tempestuous ally, capricious and unruly, its whims dictating the rise and fall of those around her. Where blood was spilled, Aiko emerged unscathed; where guns were drawn, they misfired or were turned by a sudden shift of allegiance. Her presence was an omen—her luck, a force that commanded both fear and reverence.

The Yakuza, with their intricate knowledge of the streets and their intimate dance with danger, recognized the raw potential in Aiko's unpredictable fortune. They saw not a child to be comforted but a talisman to be wielded—a living charm against their enemies. To them, she was a vessel of chaos, a bearer of serendipitous upheaval that could tip the scales of power in their shadowy world. In their guardianship, Aiko was to be honed into an instrument of silent warfare, her chaotic luck their clandestine weapon.

Yet, the Yakuza's embrace was no act of altruism; it was an investment in the unpredictable currency of luck. Aiko's very existence among them was a gambit, a play in the high-stakes game of underground supremacy. As she grew under their aegis, her enigmatic aura deepened, her name whispered in reverence and dread. And amidst this maelstrom of fate and fury, Aiko's spirit remained undaunted. For within her burned a fire of vengeance and truth—a relentless drive to unravel the tangled skein of her parents' demise and to bring the unseen machinations of the unbeknownst to her Steering Committee to light.

Raised in the labyrinthine alleys of Tokyo's red-light district, Aiko Fubuki found herself nestled in the paradoxical embrace of the Yakuza—a life of opulent danger where every whispered secret held the weight of a life. The streets became her classroom, the clash of steel and the silent whispers her lullabies. She learned the language of the shadows, the art of reading intentions hidden behind veiled threats, and the grace of moving through a world that was perpetually balanced on the edge of a knife.

Her talent, a quirk of fate that she'd inherited like a cursed heirloom, revealed itself in the most harrowing of circumstances. It was during a clandestine exchange gone awry when Aiko's luck first truly unveiled its vicious splendor. Bullets flew, a deadly choreography aimed with lethal intent, yet each one veered off course, finding targets other than the intended. Men twice her size, thrice her strength, fell to the chaotic dance of her fortune, while Aiko, at the epicenter, emerged unscathed, her wide eyes the only evidence of the maelstrom that swirled around her.

The realization of her talent brought no joy, only a deeper sense of isolation. If her luck was a shield, it was also a barrier, repelling genuine connections, leaving a trail of distrust and fear. Yet it forged her personality as surely as a smith shapes steel. Aiko's demeanor hardened; she became distant, defensive, a lone wolf navigating a world where every hand extended in friendship could just as easily wield a dagger. She became a punk-ish enigma, the girl who walked alone, who responded to the world's cruelty with a short temper and a fierce independence.

Her relationship with the Yakuza evolved as they came to understand the nature of her luck. It was a wild, untamable force that demanded respect. They ceased to see her as a mere mascot and began to acknowledge her as a player in their games of power—a silent assassin who didn't need a blade to cut down her enemies. They taught her their ways, but Aiko was no one's puppet. She absorbed their lessons but refused to be confined by their expectations. She did things her way, regardless of what others thought, driven by an internal compass that pointed toward a justice only she could define. Aiko's luck was her armor, but it was also her challenge to master. She learned to walk the fine line between letting it loose like a tempest and reigning it in, a barely leashed beast. Her life became a study in control, in harnessing the chaos that bubbled beneath her calm exterior. The Yakuza watched with a mix of pride and apprehension as the girl with no talent grew into a force of nature whose very presence could turn the tides of their underworld wars.

The Yakuza, always cunning in their machinations, saw in Aiko's insatiable hunger for the truth a tool they could use to bind her to their cause. They fed her scraps of information, just enough to keep the flames of her vengeance burning bright, but never enough to let her see the full picture. Each morsel was calculated, a breadcrumb trail leading her deeper into the heart of their world, and further under their influence. They needed her, her unpredictable luck, her ferocity, her unwavering sense of purpose.

Aiko, for all her fiery spirit, understood the game they played. She knew that these titbits about her parents' demise and the Steering Committee's dark undertakings were doled out with the same precision as the slices of a well-honed blade. They meant to use her, yes, but Aiko was no fool. She took their offerings, turned them over in her mind, and stored them away. Each fact, each rumor, was a piece of the puzzle she was determined to solve.

But the Yakuza underestimated the ferocity of Aiko's resolve. She wasn't content with the role of a pawn, a silent specter dancing to their tune. No, Aiko was playing a longer, more dangerous game—one of her own making. With every piece of the puzzle they provided, she moved closer to her goal, a goal that extended far beyond the Yakuza's aspirations of power and control. Aiko's life with the Yakuza was a double-edged sword, much like her luck. They offered her a semblance of family, a place in a world where she had none, and a promise of vengeance for her lost parents. But in the shadowy corners of her heart, where the flames of her anger kept her warm at night, Aiko plotted. She plotted not just against the Steering Committee but against any and all who would try to use her as a weapon.

And that even applied to the Yakuza which they soon found out much later….

In the dense urban labyrinth of Tokyo, where every shadow could be a friend or foe, Aiko Fubuki and Sahiru Amakawa found their fates entangled. Sahiru, whose fortune seemed to bloom on the misfortune of others, was a jinx in human form, a walking catastrophe for those around her. The Yakuza, with their superstitious hearts and calculating minds, were naturally wary of such a figure. To them, Sahiru was an unpredictable variable, a wild card that could as easily spell their doom as usher in a windfall. And yet, it was Aiko who insisted on drawing Sahiru into her sphere, an audacious move that unsettled the seasoned criminals.

Aiko, with her innate ability to harness the chaos of her luck, saw Sahiru not as a threat but as an asset. In her eyes, Sahiru's disastrous aura was a tool to be wielded with precision. Aiko applied pressure, a mixture of veiled threats and promises of grandeur, manipulating Sahiru into an alliance of mayhem. Together, they tore through the city's underbelly like a typhoon, leaving a wake of chaos that was both a message and a warning to those who would dare to control Aiko.

Their collaboration was a symphony of disaster, a partnership where Aiko's anarchic luck met Sahiru's calamitous touch. Each venture was a gamble, each outcome a testament to their combined potential to upend the established order. The Yakuza watched, half in awe, half in horror, as their carefully curated world was shaken to the core by the very force they sought to chain to their will.

But amidst the upheaval, Aiko's true intentions simmered. The tumult was but a means to an end, the first step in her grand design to sever the puppet strings that the Yakuza had sought to bind her with. Her heart, fuelled by a silent inferno of revenge and an unquenchable thirst for the truth, was set on a collision course with destiny. And in the end, it would be the Yakuza who would learn the hard way that luck, especially Aiko's, could not be tamed.

The pursuit of those responsible for her parents' untimely deaths, and as Aiko would find out the Yakuza's role in the grand tapestry of betrayal and power plays orchestrated by the Steering Committee of Hope's Peak Academy. It was a truth that festered deep within Aiko, a smoldering ember that Sahiru's presence had inadvertently fanned into a roaring blaze. The Yakuza had been mentors, guardians, and even a semblance of family, but they had also kept her leashed with half-truths and scraps of information, using her uncanny luck as a shield against their enemies while holding the keys to her past just out of reach.

The boiling point arrived shrouded in the guise of a routine gathering, a meeting cloaked in the familiarity of strategy and camaraderie. But as the Yakuza lords discussed their latest exploits and conquests, Aiko's sharpened senses caught the slip of a tongue, the mention of a past operation—one that bore haunting similarities to the fateful event that had orphaned her.

The operation in question, as it turned out, was not a random act of violence but a calculated move in a larger scheme, a dark orchestration by the Steering Committee of Hope's Peak, with the Yakuza acting as the unwilling hand that carried out the grim task. Aiko's parents, researchers too close to unveiling secrets the Committee wished to keep buried, had become liabilities that needed to be silenced. The Yakuza, bound by twisted loyalties and blackmailed with threats to their own, had been forced into compliance.

Aiko's discovery that fateful evening was no mere coincidence. The Yakuza had found her that day on the streets, not by luck, but by following the orders of their puppeteers. They were to monitor the orphaned child of the researchers, to keep her close, to control her, lest she grow up to seek vengeance or, worse, stumble upon the truth herself. They had never anticipated the latent power within her, the chaotic luck that could one day turn against them.

As Aiko stood among the men who had been her guardians, protectors, and teachers, a cold realization washed over her. Her life had been orchestrated, her path manipulated. The supposed sanctuary they offered was a gilded cage, her safety an illusion. The truth was a corrosive acid, eating away at any semblance of trust and warmth that had existed between them.

The truth spilled forth in a torrent of confessions, half-hearted apologies, and attempts at justification. But the words fell on deaf ears; Aiko's heart was hardened, her vision clear. The Yakuza, who had once taught her the art of survival and strength, had been using her all along as a chess piece in a game played in the shadows of power and deceit.

The room, once filled with the smug comfort of schemers atop their imagined throne, now bristled with palpable fear. Aiko's revelation had struck a chord of terror in the hearts of the Yakuza. They had seen her luck's unpredictable outcomes, and now they were about to witness its destructive potential, directed squarely at them. The Yakuza leaders exchanged tense glances, their usual confidence faltering under the weight of Aiko's steely gaze. It was a silent consensus, born of the primal instinct to survive, that led them to act. If Aiko's chaotic fortune was a powder keg ready to detonate, they would attempt to snuff out the fuse before it could ignite.

With the swiftness of a serpent's strike, they attacked. The Yakuza, masters of ambush and deceit, lunged at Aiko with the intent to incapacitate, to overwhelm her before her luck could turn the tide. But Aiko, with the reflexes of one who had danced with danger all her life, responded not with panic but with the grace of chaos itself. Aiko’s movements were a blur, a dance of dodges and weaves so instinctive that each attempt to grasp her seemed only to slide off, as if luck itself was guiding her form. The Yakuza, with all their might and experience, found themselves faltering, struck by their own ricocheting intentions, as if fate had twisted their actions back upon themselves.

It was a spectacle that would be whispered about in the underworld for years to come; the night the girl with no talent, who wielded luck like a blade, carved her way out of the Yakuza’s clutches, leaving behind a trail of disarray and wounded pride. The storm of Aiko’s making had been unleashed, and it raged through their ranks with a fury that spoke of the chaos they had so foolishly courted.

In the end, Aiko stood alone amidst the disheveled room, the Yakuza subdued not by her hand, but by their own hubris and the invisible, capricious hand of luck that had always been on her side. With a cold, final look at the men who had lied to her, she stepped out into the night, free from the strings that had puppeteered her life. However, the night Aiko Fubuki declared her independence from the Yakuza was the night her tale TRULY began. Unbeknownst to her, her actions had long been observed by those with vested interests in talents, both known and unknown. Koichi Kizakura, the keen-eyed scout of Hope's Peak Academy, had been quietly tracking her progress, compiling reports that were as much about her deeds as they were about the unpredictable sway of her luck. His interest had been piqued not just by her talent, but by the iron-clad resolve and unyielding spirit she demonstrated. And also her parents connection to the deep rumored Bible plan.

Jin Kirigiri, the headmaster of the academy, had been receiving these reports with a growing sense of anticipation. Discussions about Aiko often filled the quiet corners of his office, where he pondered the potential she held and the role she could play within the esteemed halls of Hope's Peak and if she knew anything about the bible plan. His thoughts on the matter were aided by the intelligence provided by Damon Gant, the formidable yet righteous force within the Tokyo Police Department. Gant, who had a reputation for never leaving a stone unturned, had been feeding Jin and Koichi with insights into Aiko's life, drawn from his deep well of contacts and informants.

It was after all Gant's meticulous attention to detail that allowed Koichi to approach Aiko with a proposal she found herself intrigued by. Hope's Peak Academy was a place where her luck could be studied, honed, and perhaps even understood. It was an opportunity to step out of the shadows and into a world where her talent could be acknowledged and embraced. And to uncover what exactly the bible plan was and what happened to those who "disappeared" that fateful night who worked on it.

Aiko's initial meeting with Koichi Kizakura was far from the cordial exchanges of academia; it was a tense standoff in a dimly lit alley, a fitting backdrop for two individuals whose lives were anything but ordinary. She met his black and white invitation with a hardened gaze, her body language taut as a coiled spring, ready to strike. The emblem of Hope's Peak was a symbol she associated with the institution that had upended her life, and her hostility was palpable.

"You come here, to my turf, bearing the mark of those who killed my parents," Aiko spat out, her voice a low growl. "What makes you think I'd step foot in that place?"

Koichi, no stranger to tense situations, remained calm. He understood her distrust, her pain. "Hope's Peak is not the enemy you know," he said evenly. "It's a place where you can control your luck, not be controlled by it. And maybe, just maybe, find the closure you need."

Her eyes, which had been narrowed slits of suspicion, widened a fraction. Closure. That word resonated with her, echoing the deepest desires of her heart. Aiko was smart enough to know when to play her hand and when to fold. Koichi's offer, dangerous and rife with uncertainty though it might be, was a chance to step onto a larger stage, to turn her luck into a tool for uncovering the truth.

Gradually, the tension in her posture eased. "If I find out you're lying, or using me…" she warned, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Koichi just tipped his hat, a silent promise that he was on her side.

With the invitation in hand, Aiko found herself facing a crossroads. The next step she took could lead her closer to the truth or further into a web of deceit. The decision weighed heavily on her, but the promise of understanding her parents' fate, of peeling back the layers of secrecy that surrounded the Bible Plan, was too potent to ignore.

Her meeting with Jin Kirigiri and Damon Gant was set in a nondescript room that spoke of confidential matters and discreet conversations. The headmaster of Hope's Peak and the esteemed officer from the Tokyo Police Department presented a united front, yet their demeanor was not one of authority, but of alliance.

Gant began, his voice firm yet infused with an undercurrent of understanding. "Aiko Fubuki, you've had to fend for yourself in ways most can't imagine," he acknowledged, his eyes meeting hers with a certain respect. "Your past actions, while they may not have always been within the confines of the law, they were about survival. I understand it more than most would. I'm here to offer you a clean slate."

Jin followed, his tone echoing the sincerity of his counterpart. "We're not here to coerce or manipulate you, Aiko. The academy wants to offer you a chance to understand your luck, to use it to help us uncover truths that have been buried in darkness for far too long."

Aiko, still wary, let their words sink in. A full pardon was more than she could have hoped for, a freedom she hadn't tasted since before the Yakuza. And Jin's offer to work with her, not as a subject, but as a partner, struck a chord deep within her.

"If I join you, it's as an equal," she stated, her tone brooking no argument. "I want access to all you have on the Bible Plan, on the Steering Committee. And I want your word that my luck won't be exploited."

Jin nodded, a gesture of affirmation. "You have my word. Our goal is shared, Aiko. The tragedies borne from the Steering Committee's machinations have cost too many lives. It's time we brought them to light."

The partnership was formed that day, an alliance of necessity and mutual respect. Aiko Fubuki, the girl whose life had been defined by the capricious whims of luck, stepped into a new role. With Hope's Peak Academy and the Tokyo Police Department at her back, she was poised to confront her past and shape her destiny, no longer a pawn in the games of power but a key player in the search for justice.

As Aiko left the meeting, the weight of her new path settled upon her shoulders. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for the first time in a long time, she faced them not as a weapon of fate, but as a wielder of her own future.

A future she would use to destroy the steering committee and their allies at any cost.

Kisumi Musashi - Ultimate Movie Director

Kisumi Musashi. The Ultimate Movie Director. This fierce, independent young woman has helped crank out one box office smash right after the other. Genre doesn’t matter. Whether the series has been around for a while and she’s just now dipping into it doesn’t matter. Whether it barely got approved to be produced doesn’t matter. Kisumi will take any title and make something amazing out of it. This is done through her tireless research, keen intuition and masterful direction, and relentless devotion and dedication to the entertainment industry. But who is Kisumi Musashi? Where does this superstar of a director come from? What are her dreams and ambitions?

When she was young, Kisumi’s parents died in an overseas plane crash. As a result, she went to live with her Uncle’s family – her Uncle being the CEO of a company called Natsuki Corporation. Her cousin, Tohru, came to be like a brother to her. And her Uncle Goro is more or less the father she’s always known, she wouldn’t trade him for the world… Even if it would have been nice to know her birth parents. Kisumi’s early childhood was peaceful and happy, attending a normal elementary school as opposed to one of the elite or being homeschooled; Uncle Goro believed in giving his kids perspective, to learn that despite their wealth they are not above the “common man.” The sooner they acquainted with and became friends with their classmates, the sooner they would learn about the struggles and pains that less well off families suffer through… And thus, they can strive to alleviate that suffering and create a better society through acts of kindness and generosity.

But it wasn’t long before Kisumi yearned for the silver screen. Or more accurately… The more she listened to Uncle Goro talk about what her parents did for a living, being a director and assistant director, and how they traveled the world to film movies… Kisumi just wanted to explore why her parents loved the entertainment industry. Wanted to understand them. If Uncle Goro went and saved a company from total collapse and turned it around so that the company helped so many people all around the world… and yet her parents settled for making movies… What made them passionate about something so selfish? Well. Kisumi thought they were selfish… After all, movie stars were often caught up in scandals, and there was so much dirt on other aspects of the industry… But Uncle Goro didn’t see it that way at all. He never criticized his brother when talking about “the good old days.” He encouraged Kisumi to have an open mind, that there was just as much value in creating and directing movies. People need entertainment to take their minds off of this cruel world.

So Uncle Goro supported Kisumi by sending her to study overseas. It was worlds apart from the normalcy she experienced up until then, and she had to learn English before going… But Kisumi did everything she needed to, listened to everything Uncle Goro had to say about her overseas studies. Not only did she want to learn what made her parents tick, why moviemaking was so important to them; Kisumi didn’t want to disappoint her Uncle or her cousin, who were both rooting for her. Kisumi would go on to complete her studies at a plucky young thirteen years old, having taken to the career of directing like a duck to water. During her time overseas, she was already helping to produce short films and documentaries with her classmates, and through her direction made the films very easy and pleasant on the eyes and ears. While she can never be sure that she knows for a fact how her parents felt while making movies, Kisumi did come to fall in love with the moviemaking process itself. Because… there’s an art to the whole thing.

The stories you want to tell, the lessons you want to impart… The actors that get picked, the location of filming, the budgets you have for props, costumes, and so many other things… Kisumi learned to make due with what they had, and still make stellar productions out of them that make more than enough money to compensate all the effort. Because just like the BBC’s sci-fi classic Doctor Who, you never truly know how big of a splash something can make until you release it. Something with humble beginnings can turn into something grandiose, so long as you pour all the love and attention you can into the production over time… Even if the studio itself is opposed or reluctant to what you’re making. Kisumi learned so much about various movie trends, about how to make productions marketable, and tips and tricks with how to handle the bigwigs who ultimately make the final call on whether or not you’re making the movies you propose.

In the end, Kisumi was told in her classes that she probably wouldn’t start out as a director. She’d probably be a production assistant or something way down the ladder like that… But Kisumi beat out all those expectations with her creative ingenuity and artistic direction. And above all her sheer force of will to become a director as soon as possible. Not because that’s what her parents became, not because of any family pride or arrogance on her part… But because she wanted to produce movies for her Uncle and cousin to view, back home. … Apparently Uncle Goro had fallen ill, and wasn’t able to take her calls halfway through her overseas studies; for the latter half, she only spoke with Tohru and confided in him about feeling a little homesick… But both of them felt that Kisumi needed to see this to the end, and Tohru just knew she would make Uncle Goro proud. At age thirteen, Kisumi returned home to Japan, and cranked up her moviemaking career to the max. Didn’t matter that she still had “regular school” to still complete, Kisumi had her dream job and wasn’t going to give it up for anything. Life at home with Tohru was… different. For some reason Uncle Goro was working longer hours at the office, and she never got to see him anymore. Tohru promised that his father was fine… that Kisumi didn’t need to worry.

They would both make the Old Man proud in their own ways; Tohru was set to succeed his father as the next CEO, and Kisumi became an esteemed movie director that was just getting started. Despite Tohru’s reassurances, Kisumi did worry about her Uncle… She wasn’t even allowed to see the Old Man’s bedroom anymore, or his study. She felt uneasy about it, like Tohru was hiding something… But she decided to put her faith in her brother-in-all-but-blood, and she poured all her efforts into what she studied her butt off for.

And two years later, when she entered high school… She had produced easily forty five different movies, short films, and documentaries. All of them were phenomenal, and the public loved them to bits. Kizakura noticed, of course, and extended the invite to Hope’s Peak. Kisumi was ecstatic to be recognized as the best director at her tender young age! … Tohru didn’t seem as… enthused, however. He was rather aloof when Kizakura came around to the house, and never removed that smiling mask that he wore out in public the past couple of years. Kizakura was rather curious about Tohru, something about the boy ringing vaguely familiar… But in the end, Tohru wouldn’t give Kizakura the time of day, and just urged Kisumi to pursue the path that she saw as fit for her dreams. Hope’s Peak was an institution like no other, yeah? Then Kisumi should just go for it if she was so inclined.

Baffled by Tohru’s cold shoulder, but otherwise happy to take up Kizakura’s invitation, Kisumi joined Hope’s Peak’s 74th Class. Her new classmates were rather eccentric, but still pretty impressive individuals overall. Sure, Kisumi was one of the more level-headed among them… But she could appreciate the passion they had in their respective careers. Upon graduating, Kisumi would continue successfully cranking out hit after hit, and she came to have pride as the “best” movie director… Because she worked hard for this dream. And she owed so much to Uncle Goro and Tohru…

Maemi Miyo - Ultimate Kendo Practitioner

In the tranquil dojo halls where the sound of clashing bamboo swords echoes like ancient war drums, Maemi Miyo stands almost invisible, her presence as silent as the falling snow. Yet, to underestimate her based on her delicate frame is to challenge the storm that brews beneath the calm surface. She is the whisper in the wind, the specter that haunts the dreams of seasoned kendo practitioners—she is the Ultimate Kendo Practitioner.

Maemi's journey began not with the roar of the crowd, but with the hushed reverence of those who bore witness to her talent. As a child, she was often overlooked, her small stature rendering her invisible among her more boisterous peers. But within the dojo, she was a force unrivaled, her shinai an extension of her will, her reflexes a blur to the naked eye. Opponents learned quickly that to dismiss her was to accept their swift defeat; her counterstrikes were as inevitable as they were imperceptible. But how exactly did she become the Ultimate Kendo Practitioner?

Under the eaves of an old, weathered dojo tucked away in a forgotten corner of Kyoto, Maemi Miyo found her first sanctuary. Her upbringing was unconventional; she was the only child of a lineage steeped in the art of the sword, but it was a lineage that had faded from public memory, its legacy confined to the dusty annals of history and the silent testament of ancient trophies lining the walls of their home.

Her father, a man of few words and disciplined action, was her first sensei. His teaching was strict, yet it flowed with the tenderness of a hidden stream. He saw in Maemi not just a daughter but the heir to a fading tradition, a living vessel for the resurgence of their family's honor. Her mother, equally skilled and even more enigmatic, wove tales of legendary samurai and kendo masters into the fabric of Maemi's childhood, her stories as much a part of Maemi's education as the katas she practiced from dawn until dusk.

Maemi's training began with the dawn, under the watchful gaze of her father, who was both sensei and mentor. In the still, chilly air of the dojo, where the scent of old tatami mats mingled with the crispness of the morning, she learned the ancient ways of the sword. Her father's methods were unorthodox, emphasizing not just the physical aspects of kendo but the mental and spiritual disciplines that underpinned them. He taught her to see the space between breaths, to find the silence amidst the noise, and to strike not when the moment presented itself, but to create the moment herself.

Her mother, meanwhile, taught her the history and soul of the blade. Every evening, as the dojo's lanterns cast long shadows on the wooden floor, Maemi would sit at her mother's feet, absorbing tales of legendary swordsmen and women whose spirits were said to live on in the blades they once wielded. Her mother's voice was soft but clear, weaving stories that were equal parts history and mythology, teaching Maemi that the essence of kendo was not in victory, but in the purity of every strike and defense, in the art of movement and stillness alike.

However It was during a local tournament that Maemi's talent truly unfolded before an audience. She was but a child, no more than ten, her stature diminutive, her presence almost negligible amidst the bustle of competitors. Her opponent was a local champion, a boy nearly twice her age and size, his confidence as conspicuous as Maemi's quietude. The match began, and the crowd's murmurs hushed in anticipation.

From the first strike, it was clear that Maemi was different. Her shinai seemed to whisper through the air, her steps a silent dance that anticipated her opponent's every move. The boy's strikes were powerful but predictable, and Maemi's counterattacks were whispers of wind that found their mark with a precision that seemed to bend the very air. The match was over in minutes, but the echo of her shinai's strikes rang much longer in the ears of those who witnessed her victory.

In the hushed circles of martial arts aficionados, Maemi's victory was not merely a win; it was the blooming of a legend. The small girl with the unassuming air and the piercing eyes had toppled a colossus with the ease of a seasoned master, her every move a poem written in the language of kendo. The word of her prowess traveled from the local dojo to regional competitions, and each retelling added to her mystique. She was the wraith of the kendo world, known to many by reputation, but truly understood by few.

As her renown in the kendo circles grew, so too did the audiences at her matches. They came not for the spectacle of violence, but to witness the elegance of her form, the serene composure with which she wielded her shinai, and the almost preternatural intuition that seemed to guide her movements. Yet, amidst this burgeoning fame within her discipline, Maemi's daily life remained untouched by her growing legend.

At school, Maemi was a wisp of a presence, her small frame and quiet demeanor rendering her all but invisible in the boisterous corridors and crowded classrooms. She drifted through the academic routine like a ghost, observed by few, her mind often elsewhere, lost in the strategies and philosophies of her next training session. Her peers, unaware of the fierce spirit that lay behind her passive exterior, seldom engaged her, and she, in turn, made no move to dispel the veil of obscurity that shrouded her school days.

To Maemi, the dichotomy between her life in the dojo and at school was stark but comfortable. In the world of kendo, she was a revered figure, a prodigy who spoke through her actions rather than her words. In school, she was just another face in the crowd, one more student in a sea of uniforms and youthful ambition. This anonymity afforded her a certain peace, a sanctuary from the pressures of her talent and the expectations that came with it.

Yet, even within the tranquility of her dual existence, there was an undercurrent of conflict that Maemi could not ignore. As she grew older, the disparity between her silent school life and her celebrated kendo persona began to chafe. There was a part of her that yearned to merge these two halves of her life, to be seen and known for who she truly was, not just in the dojo, but in every aspect of her existence.

The conflict came to a head during a regional kendo championship, where Maemi, as always, had silently cut her way through the competition. It was there, amidst the thunderous applause of the crowd, that she caught sight of her classmates in the audience. Their eyes wide with surprise and admiration, they finally saw the 'myth' in their midst, the 'ghost' of their classrooms wielding her shinai with a master's grace.

The revelation was a catalyst for Maemi. The following school days were marked by a subtle shift. Her classmates, now aware of her talent, approached her with a mixture of curiosity and awe. They asked questions, they whispered about her matches, they no longer passed her by without a second glance. For Maemi, this new attention was both uncomfortable and exhilarating. She found herself at a crossroads, unsure of how to reconcile her newfound visibility with her love for the solitude and anonymity she had always known.

As the days passed, Maemi's internal struggle did not go unnoticed by her mother, who had always been a quiet source of strength and wisdom. Her mother, a woman of poise and understanding, had watched her daughter tread the fine line between anonymity and acclaim with a knowing eye. She knew all too well the Hoshina clan's teachings—pride in one's skills, yes, but never a boastful display for mere attention. They were a family that found honor in the shadows, their achievements whispered like legends, never shouted for the world to hear.

One evening, as the afterglow of sunset bathed their traditional home in a warm light, her mother spoke. "Maemi, your heart is like the river—it seeks its own path, sometimes quiet and hidden, sometimes wide and open for all to see," she said, her voice as gentle as the breeze that rustled the leaves in their garden.

Maemi listened, her eyes reflecting the turmoil that had been her constant companion of late.

"In the dojo, you are the myth, the master whose actions speak her legacy. In school, you are the ghost, content to watch and observe. But remember, both are you, and both have their place," her mother continued, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Maemi's ear.

"But, mother, isn't it the Hoshina way to remain humble, to shun the spotlight?" Maemi asked, seeking clarity.

Her mother smiled, a soft curve of understanding. "True humility is knowing your worth without proclaiming it. It is not about hiding your light—it's about shining it where it will guide and inspire. You come from a lineage of warriors who knew when to step into the light and when to blend with the night. Your struggle, my child, is the same as theirs. The same struggle I once had and I made a choice that…..had consequences. But I would make theat same choice again in a heartbeat."

Those words struck a chord within Maemi. She realized then that her legacy was not a chain but a tapestry, a rich history of choices and chances. Her mother's words gave her a new perspective, one that allowed her to see her talent not as a burden to be hidden or a trophy to be flaunted, but as a gift to be used wisely.

As Maemi's confidence grew and her talents continued to flourish, the whispers of her prowess in the kendo world began to reach further than the dojo's walls. Her skill with the shinai had always been remarkable, but now there was a newfound resolve in her eyes, a determination that spoke of a deeper understanding and acceptance of her dual nature. It was during the national kendo championships, a tournament watched not just by enthusiasts but by talent scouts from various disciplines, that Maemi truly shone.

During the finals, Maemi faced an opponent known for his aggressive tactics and daunting presence. As the match commenced, the crowd expected a swift defeat for the small, unassuming girl before them. However, Maemi stood her ground with an unshakeable calm. Each attack from her opponent was not only deftly countered, but used as a stepping stone, guiding her to the next strike. Her movements were a blur, each step and swing carried out with a precision that seemed almost preternatural. The match ended with Maemi's victory, her shinai poised gracefully as her opponent's bamboo sword clattered to the floor, his ambitions alongside it.

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound filling the arena with an intensity that mirrored the shock and awe written across the faces of all who had witnessed the upset. But among the audience was Koichi Kizakura, whose knowing smile was tinged with excitement. He had been following Maemi's journey, intrigued by the tales of the 'ghost' who could best any challenger with her almost supernatural reflexes. He saw in her not just a master of kendo, but the embodiment of potential that Hope's Peak Academy sought—the potential to inspire, to lead, and to redefine what it meant to be a practitioner of the ancient art.

Koichi approached Maemi after the tournament, his trademark hat tipped in respect. "Maemi Miyo, your skill is the talk of the town, and your spirit, the inspiration of many," he began, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of having discovered a rare talent. "Hope's Peak Academy would be honored to have you walk its halls as the Ultimate Kendo Practitioner."

Maemi, taken aback by the sudden offer, hesitated. The academy was a place of prestige, but also one that had seemed distant, almost untouchable. Yet, here was an invitation, an acknowledgment of her skill and her dedication to her craft.

"What would I do there?" Maemi inquired, her voice barely above a whisper but clear in the silent moment that followed her question.

Koichi leaned forward slightly, understanding the weight of her question. "At Hope's Peak, you'd be more than just a student. You'd be a living testament to the art of kendo," he said earnestly. "You would train, yes, but also inspire. You could research the depths of martial arts, delve into its history and philosophy, and perhaps even instruct those willing to learn from the best."

Maemi's gaze held steady, considering the depth of what Koichi was offering. The prospect of furthering her understanding of kendo, of exploring its roots and imparting its essence to others, was more than just an educational opportunity—it was a calling.

"And it's not just about kendo," Koichi added, sensing her interest. "It's about finding where your talent takes you, about pushing the boundaries of what you know. You'll meet others with talents as unique and profound as yours, engage with minds that challenge and complement your own."

Maemi felt a spark ignite within her, a flame fanned by the promise of new challenges and the pursuit of knowledge. Hope's Peak Academy was offering her a path she had never contemplated, a chance to step out from the silent echoes of her dojo and into a world where her talent could truly flourish.

"I will accept your invitation," Maemi finally said, her voice still quiet but imbued with a new strength. "I wish to see where this journey leads, to understand the true potential of my talent."

Koichi's smile broadened, "Welcome to Hope's Peak, Maemi Miyo. Your journey is just beginning, and I have a feeling it will be one for the history books."

With her acceptance, Maemi Miyo prepared to enter a new stage of her life, one filled with the promise of growth and the allure of the unknown. As she walked away from the dojo that day, with the invitation from Hope's Peak Academy in hand, she felt the quiet strength of her resolve settle around her like armor. She was ready to face whatever came next.

Momoka Saitou - Ultimate Secretary

In the veiled corridors of power where decisions are made with a whisper and a nod, Momoka Saitou mastered the art of influence. As the Ultimate Secretary, she became the custodian of secrets, the silent engine behind the thrones of authority. But to understand her ascension to this pivotal role, one must trace the roots back to her upbringing—a tapestry of discipline, observation, and the subtle art of discretion.

Momoka's childhood was steeped in the tradition of service and support. Born to a family of dedicated civil servants, she was brought up with the ethos that the greatest impact is often wrought from the shadows. While other children played boisterously, Momoka observed. She listened. She learned. Her parents, working within the intricate bureaucracy of government, taught her the value of information—how it could be both shield and sword.

Her home was a revolving door of dignitaries and officials, each carrying the burden of their office. Momoka watched her mother, a paragon of a secretary, manage this world with an effortless grace. She saw how her mother's gentle suggestions could alter the course of discussions, how her careful arrangements could set the stage for successful negotiations, and how her discreet whispers could defuse the ticking time bombs of political intrigue.

Under her mother's tutelage, Momoka became adept at reading the room, understanding the unspoken needs of those she served. She became a young apprentice in the art of facilitation, honing skills that would define her future. Her parents instilled in her the belief that true power does not roar; it whispers. Yet, the very skills that made her indispensable in the halls of power also cast a widening gap between her and her peers. In the boisterous anarchy of school life, Momoka's reserved and observational nature made her a target. The bullying was subtle at first, a nudge here, a whisper there, but it grew bolder with each passing day.

However, Momoka was her mother's daughter, not just in skill but in spirit. She observed the bullies as she would any political adversary—studying their habits, their motivations, their allies. Armed with this knowledge, she began to apply her craft, using her wits and words to sow discord among them, turning their alliances inside out without a single raised voice or accusation. Her methods were a testament to her training: a rumor planted here, a schedule altered there, a misplaced item that only she could gracefully recover. She became a ghost in the system, orchestrating a silent campaign that disarmed her aggressors one by one. To the bullies, it seemed as if their own shadows turned against them, their confidence eroding with every step that backfired, every plan that unraveled.

In the end, the bullies found themselves isolated, their schemes undone by an invisible hand. They couldn't pinpoint how or when the tide had turned, but they felt the unmistakable presence of Momoka's influence in every misstep they took. The corridors they once prowled with impunity now whispered with the echoes of their faltered reign. They were afraid, not of retribution or confrontation, but of the silent sentinel that was Momoka—the girl who spoke softly and needed no stick. At least not yet.

However In the world of secretarial arts, Momoka Saitou's name resonated with a quiet power. Her skills were not merely about organization and efficiency; they were about intuition and the subtle art of influence. Her rise to prominence began with the cultural exchange project, but that was only the opening act of what would become a storied journey through the annals of administration. Momoka's projects were as varied as they were challenging. She coordinated international conferences, where she bridged the gaps between cultures with a grace that belied her years. She orchestrated charity galas, turning potential disasters into evenings of splendor and success. She even managed political campaigns for student council elections, turning underdogs into leaders with her strategic planning and insightful advice.

Her methods were a blend of modern efficiency and old-world diplomacy. She utilized technology to track progress and communicate, but it was her personal touch that ensured the success of her endeavors. Momoka had an uncanny ability to remember details about people, from their favorite drinks to their children's birthdays, and she used this knowledge to foster relationships and build networks of loyalty and respect. Her prominence as a secretary was marked by her unique approach to problem-solving. She never tackled issues head-on but rather worked from the shadows, moving pieces into place with such subtlety that solutions seemed to arise naturally. People began to speak of problems disappearing "the Momoka way"—a phrase that denoted an issue resolved so smoothly that it was as if it had never existed.

One of her most notable successes was the revitalization of an ailing student organization. The group had been floundering, its members disengaged, and its purpose unclear. Momoka stepped in as an advisor, and within months, the organization was not only thriving but had become a cornerstone of the school's extracurricular activities. She achieved this by carefully restructuring the organization, empowering members to take on meaningful roles, and aligning their activities with their passions and the school's goals. Her achievements as a secretary did not go unnoticed. As her reputation grew, so did the opportunities presented to her. She was sought after by the highest echelons of the school's administration, her advice and expertise valued by teachers and students alike. Momoka had become an indispensable asset to her school, her signature blend of quiet confidence and decisive action becoming the hallmark of her storied career.

However It was during the preparations for an international student symposium that Momoka's skills caught the eye of Hope's Peak Academy. The event was a massive undertaking, involving delegates from schools across the globe, and the smooth execution of the symposium was nothing short of a miracle. Momoka's behind-the-scenes work ensured that every detail was accounted for, every contingency planned for, and every participant felt heard and valued. Koichi Kizakura, in attendance to scout for potential talents, was astounded by the seamless flow of the event. He recognized the hallmarks of an exceptional secretary—the ability to predict problems before they arose, the capacity to communicate across barriers, and the foresight to weave a safety net so tight that nothing could fall through.

Kizakura with his knack for spotting the extraordinary in the sea of the mundane, approached her with an offer cloaked in the promise of potential and growth. "At Hope's Peak," he explained, "you'll find challenges worthy of your skills and a community that will value your unique capabilities. You're not just a mediator or a problem solver, Momoka—you're a visionary in your field."

Momoka's reaction was one of measured contemplation. She was no stranger to accolades or recognition, but this was an offer of a different caliber. It spoke not just to her abilities, but to her aspirations, her latent desire to expand her horizons beyond the familiar walls of her current life. Her parents, ever supportive, noticed the flicker of excitement in Momoka's usually impassive demeanor. "Momoka," her father said with a gentle firmness, "this could be the path to realizing your dreams, to broadening the scope of your talents." Her mother added, "We've always known that your potential was bound for greater stages. Hope's Peak could be that stage."

The notion of dreams was something Momoka rarely dwelled on, her focus always on the task at hand. Yet, deep down, she harbored visions of orchestrating events on a grander scale, of being the unseen hand that guided the course of crucial conversations and decisions. Perhaps even of the government of Japan itself. Hope's Peak, with its myriad of talents and its pulsating heart of opportunity, was a place where dreams didn't just whisper—they sang.

With the full support of her parents and the promise of a new horizon ahead, Momoka accepted the invitation from Hope's Peak Academy. Her acceptance was not a loud declaration of ambition, but a quiet acknowledgment of the new journey she was about to embark on. She understood that the academy was not just a stepping stone, but a place that could transform the whispers of her dreams into the actions of change.

As she walked through the imposing gates of Hope's Peak, a soft determination settled within her. Here, within these walls, she would not only apply her skills but refine them. She would navigate the complex web of interpersonal relations, cement her role as a master mediator and secretary, and perhaps, in the process, discover new facets of her own identity.

Natalie Murasaki - Ultimate Sheriff

Natalie Murasaki. The Ultimate Sheriff. This feisty, spunky young woman sports the highest arrest rate for any female police officer in western Japan. … And the interesting tidbit? Aside from a few particularly tricky cases involving multiple criminals or yakuza, Natalie is known for bringing in the perpetrators on her own merits. Her own efforts. This has led this remarkable young woman to be a particularly skilled combatant, insofar as neutralizing crooks without killing them. For Natalie Murasaki, ensuring that everyone follows the law is of the highest importance; she HATES injustice and tragedies… Still, this is what everyone knows about Natalie Murasaki these days. Who is she, really? Where does she come from? What are her dreams and ambitions?

Natalie was born and raised in Kobe, Japan. The mountain ranges framing the harbor of Osaka Bay; Ikuta Shrine; the outdoor hotsprings of Arima Onsen; and even the antiquated cable cars that take people up to Mt. Rokko for a panoramic view of the port… All these things and many more became areas that Natalie knew like the back of her hand. Marble steak is her favorite grub, and she fell in love with her hometown and all the people in it.

Her parents were a part of Kobe’s police department… Albeit they were on the lower rungs of the ladder, usually handling smalltime affairs and paperwork. Because they worked so often, Natalie was more or less raised by her older brother, Yu. He had about ten years on her in age, and still he was Natalie’s best friend. From early on, Natalie recognized he was as tough as nails, but the biggest part about him was his heart. After he skipped a couple grades in high school, he got on a fast track for becoming a teacher… And Natalie was just in awe of how passionate and fulfilled he seemed, living his dream. Yu believed that his students loved him just as much as he loved them, that they all had bright futures…

Unfortunately for Yu, teaching wasn’t meant to last. A few years into his career, a particularly nasty instance of bullying occurred under his watch. Yu was idealistic, he thought that it was just kids being kids, that it was just horseplay; after all, he had a kid sister that meant the world to him. Kids could be misguided, but they knew not to go too far. … But it wasn’t horseplay. Not this time. Several students in his homeroom bullied a boy enough that he eventually leaped off the school’s roof. A girl in his homeroom warned Yu what was going on, chastised him for being so blind… And he didn’t realize until that boy jumped off the roof and ended up in a coma. Yu was then dismissed from teaching, on account of being made a scapegoat so that the school would survive past this incident. Yu didn’t try to fight it; he was wracked with guilt and bitterness for failing his students, and he was left not knowing what to do in the aftermath. Where to go from there… Though he seemed to find SOMETHING, because soon enough he was coming home a lot less to take care of Natalie… And he wouldn't open up about his new career, especially not about why he seemed so exhausted coming home at nights…

Natalie was devastated about what happened to her brother. Not only because of all the unjust court proceedings that framed him as a callous, heartless monster… But the act of bullying itself. That it had gotten that bad. Her brother’s students betrayed him, and she began fostering a deep resentment for bullies in general… What was the point of picking on someone weaker than you? No. She had that backwards. Because the bullies had to act as a unified unit to bully that one boy, just to feel good about themselves or whatever it might be… THEY were lesser than that one boy. Was it an inferiority complex?

Natalie honestly stopped caring about the why’s. Yu got screwed over because of something so stupid, so cruel, and she wanted to keep something like this from ever happening again. So shortly after her eleventh birthday… Natalie began doing her own research into nefarious activity around Kobe with all of her newfound free time. The thing about having an awesome older brother like Yu is that Natalie was learning to spar with him from an early age; it was more of a free style, but the base of it is Southern Kung Fu. Yu wouldn’t teach her everything that he knew, but he did want Natalie to be able to stand on her own and defend herself.

…And well. Natalie decided defending herself just wasn’t good enough. She needed to defend everyone that she could. So trailing the traitorous, bullying students, Natalie began learning about yakuza connections, the filthy “underground” of Kobe. Natalie wasn’t strong enough to make the courts decide to give her brother his teaching position back, but she could force these traitors and yakuza to face justice. So after beating them up and WINNING, miraculously enough, Natalie turned the whole bunch of crooks over to the Kobe police department…

Naturally, her parents were appalled, aghast that their daughter had done something so dangerous… They were on the verge of giving both her and Yu a serious tongue lashing – Yu was just as floored that Natalie had taken the initiative like that, having to come home early from his new job to get lectured about leaving Natalie out of his sight. But soon after those perpetrators were hauled into the station, the Chief of Police, a distant acquaintance of Damon Gant, stopped her parents from punishing Natalie too harshly for what she did… Yes, it was reckless. And they would rather leave this dangerous business to the professionals… But this Chief had known Damon from long ago. Knew how he started out. He could see that same fire and resolve in Natalie, and didn’t feel it was worth snuffing out that potential.

From that day on, Natalie was drafted into the police training program, under the Chief’s careful guidance. And she defied all expectations, not only managing to breeze through the training but also wrangle more crooks on the streets while she was at it, and still attend school to boot. Natalie was a go-getter, and over the next four years she both rose through the ranks and arrested quite a few perpetrators with her own two hands. To the point of earning the highest arrest rate… at her tender young age, no less!

Around the time Natalie was breezing through the academy, Yu expressed concern that his little sister was going way too fast. Their parents might not be able to object too much because she has the Chief's backing, but Yu knows the sorts of vile people Natalie's pursuing at the risk of her young life. Yu also knew that just talking to her would result in butting heads with her, and showing off more of his techniques through subsequent spars that would ensue. He knew his sister like the back of his hand, stubborn as one of those bulls she loved to watch in those cheesy Western flicks…

So Yu formulated a plan to make Natalie back down. Through connections at his new workplace, Yu hired a small group of masked men to ambush him and Natalie while they went out to see a movie; Yu knew how tough these men were because he had trained this security team personally. They all worked for the same corporation, after all. One ambush later, with Yu purposely throwing the "fight" to get taken "hostage" - leading to an ultimatum for Natalie to back down and quit the police lifestyle. It was Yu's hope that by overwhelming Natalie in quantity as well as quality, she would just go back to a normal, carefree life…

…Unfortunately, Yu underestimated Natalie's tenacity. He should have known better… Because he had the same unwavering justice, lurking deep inside. Through clever use of her environment, Natalie distracted the "hostage-taker" before KOing him brutally, followed by taking out the whole security team. By the end, Natalie was exhausted, barely standing straight, but she managed to beat the seemingly insurmountable odds.

Yu had to face facts. Whether he liked it or not, his sister had grown up. She had used his pain, his anguish, his guilt, his self-loathing… And Natalie used that to give her purpose. Even though she was just a kid, even though he'd grown more distant because of his new career as part security guard, part handyman for this rival corporation that was going toe-to-toe with the Togami conglomerate, and even the Kamukura's couldn't take them lightly… Yu had been spending all this time using this corporation's resources and personnel to dish out justice in his own way… Even if it entered some gray territories of the law… All to address the issue of bullies.

And in having such tunnel vision… Yu missed out on the effect his pain was having on Natalie. How it was fueling her to be such a strong, independent girl. … She didn't need to go so far for him. Yu was used to cleaning up his own messes as the dependable older brother… Still, Natalie had come this far. And she was going through more proper channels to deal with bullies, as opposed to his… methods. Yu was so close to going through with some really illegal crap, the planning was nearly done, but now that he's seen his baby sister take out a whole security team that HE trained… Yu can't keep pretending his imouto is completely removed from this crappy side of life. Seeing the worst parts of humanity… She's way too young to be dealing with this, but Yu can't deny she's capable.

So Yu took her home, after tuckering herself out. He carried her piggyback style like he had years ago, and they had a heart-to-heart. Natalie whined about needing to haul in the masked men, but Yu consoled her and promised he'd handle it. There was no need too shatter her rosy-glasses view of him, so he kept the fact that they were just his coworkers, that the whole thing was staged to make her back down… he kept that to himself. Natalie could just take pride in the fact that she had protected him, and had earned a good rest. Yu isn't sure what he'll do moving forward… Maybe draw up new plans. Because… if he carried on like he wanted to, Yu knew that Natalie might have to bring him in one day. … And he didn't want to shred her heart to pieces like that.

He couldn't give up on his ambitions either, however. Whatever the future held… He had powerful allies and unwavering justice in his veins. Yu wouldn't cause his baby sister grief over his life decisions, but he would still do things his own way. So after dropping her off at home, Yu left her a note. Through it, he told her that he wouldn't be coming home for a while… His new job was pretty important, and he could tell that Natalie was making great progress without him as a crutch. He told her not to worry about him, that she had already avenged him by arresting those bullies from his old homeroom… Natalie should live her own life. And if that led to a pursuit of justice… Well, Yu would respect her choice. Just be happy, and only take risks if she's SURE that she can pull through. Yu is proud of her… That's never in question.

Natalie woke up to find that note, and would go on to continue her training, gaining notoriety with her high arrest rate. And citizens all over Kobe and neighboring towns would come to love and respect her as the youngest police officer in the nation. Naturally, the Chief passed along to Damon the new rookie that had amazing potential, and Damon kept a pretty sharp eye on her progress. Eventually, Natalie was recognized as one of the Chief of Kobe PD’s best operatives, nearly second-in-command to him. Despite being a kid, she had authority as an officer of the law, and never abused it despite how recklessly she chases after criminals… Natalie knows the law by heart, but when it comes to the pursuit of justice, she will run off on her own to ensure justice is carried out. She has the training from both the police and Yu under her belt, and she quickly learned how to look out for criminal activity… Natalie might be taking big gambles, but she was a ”Sheriff” in her own right.

Hence, when she reached high school, she got approached by Damon and Kizakura to invite her to Hope’s Peak, where she could accelerate her potential as an officer of the law even more. Natalie was ecstatic, and Yu was happy enough for his little sister, hearing about her acceptance to that prestigious academy… even if he did constantly stress over her biting off more than she can chew.

But she’s Natalie Murasaki~… And she’ll be fine. As worried as he might feel at times, Yu believes in her. Always.

Personality wise though, Natalie is a girl that can't sit still. When she personally witnesses bullying or other crimes, she's the first to leap into action. She won't always tackle the problems head-on, but that's her preferred approach as opposed to waiting for "permission". Natalie is the type to hate protocol if it prolongs suffering and injustice, hence her rebellious streak when jumping into the fray. … Although Natalie does despise paperwork and leaves that to her coworkers whenever possible.

When it comes to stuff besides police work… Natalie enjoys westerns, shootout flicks, Kobe's marble steak specialty, and learning and using cowgirl lingo in her everyday language. She also regularly dresses up as a cowgirl sheriff - hat, ascot, suspenders… She even has a sheriff's badge, which she received for her efforts in arresting criminals.

Of course… Natalie's deep sense of justice does distance herself from her schoolmates because of how passionate she is and how clearly she beats up bullies at their elementary/middle school growing up. Natalie herself wants to make friends with everyone, but they aren't eager to reciprocate with how easily she can beat them up at the drop of a hat, for just about any reason she wants. Of course, Natalie only ever attacks bullies… But there's nothing to say that'll never change. Aside from her ability to never lose a scrap, her Western-centric habits and fashion also put people off.

This isn't to say Natalie doesn't have any friends… She's just not very popular. … Even though she deals with bullies and speaks out against them, when the rest of them won't because of basic society etiquette. The friends she does have, they value her standing up for the meek and helpless. … Though they wish she'd be more careful. They also know of her older brother, and how kind he is to everyone; how Natalie picks up most of her Western aesthetic/tastes from Yu, and learned how to fight from him.

Still… It's not until Hope's Peak where Natalie finds people just as eccentric as her. And even fellow officer types, such as Ikue. … Not that Natalie and Ikue's ideologies line up very cleanly. (人◕ω◕);;;

Rika Hinami - Ultimate Engineer

Rika Hinami. The Ultimate Engineer. This down-to-earth, level-headed woman is famous for developing a heater technology that is both efficient and eco-friendly. But that single invention is hardly the extent of her talents; it’s simply what she’s known far and wide for. Rika-san is annoyed that her brilliance isn’t better recognized by society… But perhaps her cavalier attitude towards others, her “laziness” as some people may define it, plays into her subdued notoriety. But who is Rika Hinami? Where does she come from? What are her dreams and ambitions?

Rika was born to a pair of corporate executives in the Fuji Bank chain, which is the successor to the Yasuda zaibatsu. They deal largely in recruitment and management, which helped shape Rika’s personality. Because… Rika would ditch school whenever she could. And where would she go? She would tail her parents to their workplace and secretly watch them throughout the day, conducting interviews, performance reviews, and so much more. To any other child, this would have been the most boring, most anticlimactic thing to do with free time… But to Rika? A pencil-pushing management desk job was heaven. You got to sit around for most of your shift, some menial work here and there, and boss others around. What’s not to love about an easygoing life like that?! As the daughter to not one, but TWO executives of Fuji Bank, it’s not as if any of the employees would ever snitch if they caught her ghosting her parents’ workplace. She was essentially “royalty”. Still, despite her admiration of such a job… Rika-chan knew that to get there, she would have to go through A LOT of schooling and putting in effort that she wasn’t necessarily willing to give… Because after all, like most kids, who LIKED going to school to learn? It’s not an issue of understanding the material.

Not for Rika-chan. School came TOO easily for her; she completed the semester’s assignments way ahead of time, and then only went to class for tests. … Because apparently the secret deals she was making with teachers to let her escape classes couldn’t cover those. Annoying, but Rika-chan vaguely understood (even at her young age) there was limits to how much she could cheat the system. So after a year or two of watching her parents and coming to the crushing understanding that she would have to APPLY herself to get to where they were… Rika-chan gave up her dreams on a corporate management position. Because screw effort~…

That left Rika-chan with an awful lot of free time, though. Sure, while brainstorming ideas for killing time, Rika-chan wound up effortlessly completing classwork a couple years ahead of her current studies. The work wasn’t that hard; she was beginning to understand the general flow of education in most subjects. Anything she didn’t immediately get, she just accessed the internet to fill those gaps. Before long, she had an Associate’s Degree’s worth of education under her belt at the age of ten. Not bad, but such a degree would only get her basic jobs where she’d have to work… So Rika-chan dabbled in a few different things until she found that, subconsciously, she developed a fascination with engineering. Tinkering with machines… Applying her imagination and knowledge to designs, improving on already existing designs…

One day, a schoolmate who was curious about why she was rarely in school approached her at home, and Rika-chan was discovered installing a sublevel to her parent’s garage. … Because Rika just knew that they wouldn’t be too happy if she used their garage as a workshop. So she rigged up some machines to dig below the earth below the garage and get it all re-cemented before her parents got home that evening. Rika barely had to do a thing. Her schoolmate was in awe of what she was doing, and asked how this was all achieved; the poor girl was overwhelmed as Rika launched into a droll explanation of how her digging machines operated, where she acquired the parts (mostly from junkyards, because she refused to use her parents’ money, and she refused to work for her own money unless absolutely necessary), how many weeks it took to put this all together… By the end, the schoolmate’s head was spinning, and Rika-chan was just standing there nonchalantly like it was no big deal. … Because it wasn’t. Rika had this much free time, and furthered her studies to such an extent. Still, the fact Rika was this amazing with inventing, it gave the schoolmate hope that maybe Rika could help fix her bike, which was pretty banged up . Rika wasn’t exactly thrilled to be asked to do something… But with how crestfallen her schoolmate seemed at Rika’s initial refusal of the request… Rika grudgingly agreed that her machines could continue their work without much fuss, and she had the time to look at the bike… even if she knew crap all about them. Right away, the young prodigy could tell what the problems were with the bike, despite that lack of knowledge. After some quick research into bike maintenance and repair, Rika determined it would be more cost effective to just purchase a new bike… Unfortunately, the schoolmate’s family had a low income, and they just weren’t in a position for that, hence the schoolmate was hoping it could be fixed instead. Rika still wasn’t thrilled about the hoops she’d have to jump through to get this bike repaired… But if it’d stop the girl from bawling like a baby, Rika would do it. She’d whine, but she’d do it.

A couple days later, Rika had the schoolmate come down to her new workshop, which her parents still didn’t know about, and had the schoolmate try out her newly modified bike. Not only could it go much faster, but it was easier to brake and steer the thing. The schoolmate was in awe, and thanked Rika over and over, but Rika just waved her off. It wasn’t that hard, and she even liked improving on the bike’s design after overcoming the initial repairs.

After that single request, Rika’s name started getting passed around at school. To her ire, more schoolmates came over to ask her to take a look at and repair certain things in or around their homes… Toasters, TV’s, showers, video game consoles, A/C units, heating units… Rika couldn’t fix EVERYTHING, some stuff fell under the purview of plumbers and electricians. Still, she got exposed to a variety of everyday appliances, and now she was getting PAID for these jobs… Most of the time, anyway. Whenever they weren’t lower income like that first “client”. It annoyed Rika to be approached so often, but she was slowly and surely becoming known as a “handyman” around her school and neighborhood. As stupid as all the new work was to her, it still allowed her to flex her engineering muscles and expand her knowledge base. By age thirteen, she finally developed her own patented heating system. … Because winters were cold around where she lived, and she wanted her damn house to not be so frigid. Her parents rarely kicked oo the heating because they were concerned about affecting the environment… Well, Rika worked around those concerns, and gave all three of them a toasty home to be in, and it wouldn’t even add that much to their bills. It didn’t take long for Rika’s heater to be discovered by her schoolmates, however; enough of them came around and asked why it felt so NICE inside Rika’s home… And to her chagrin, word got around to a few heating companies in Japan, and they began clamoring for her designs. … She didn’t like selling out to the greedy sonuvabitches… But then, they did offer her a fair chunk of money. And she saw no reason why she couldn’t sell to multiple companies to get that much more money for herself. Sure, that meant having to tweak her designs to make new and yet still eco-friendly designs… But Rika did it. Several times over.

Rika skated by in middle school, taking on various jobs as the “handyman” of Yokohama. School was a non-issue, and she was learning plenty through her budding engineer side business. Eventually, Koichi Kizakura came calling when he caught wind of her brilliance. … Though he was quite frank with her: Despite some people talking about her, Rika really wasn’t as famous as she believed she was. Rika was frankly a rare find for Kizakura; a kid that kept her head low and just took whatever jobs came her way. In fact, because of her lack of presence at school, Kizakura almost missed her altogether as he pored through various school rosters. Rika didn’t care very much if she was renowned or not; her ultimate dream was still to take it easy and work as little as possible… She pretty much turned down the Hope’s Peak gig, because she just didn’t have the DRIVE to be the best… Hope’s Peak would just heap more and more expectations on her shoulders, and Rika wanted to stay FAR away from that…

But Kizakura isn’t a quitter. He knows untapped talent when he sees it, and despite resonating with her in terms of taking it easy… The man appealed to Rika’s love for her craft. If she attended Hope’s Peak, she wouldn’t have to sift through and pilfer junkyards for supplies. She’d have access to top-of-the-line materials and equipment, at no cost to her. Hope’s Peak basically cut blank checks to all of its students, all in the pursuit of the study of talent. … Rika didn’t like Kizakura going for the jugular like that, but if she could cut out the middleman that was the smelly junkyards… Well, she grudgingly accepted the invitation. Not before forcing Kizakura through an unnecessary “interview” to confirm some things about attending Hope’s Peak… Still, by the end, Rika just went with the flow, and got set up with a new workshop on campus.

To Rika’s irritation, she got dragged into attending classes and doing activities with schoolmates.. But she made sure to hit them up with “interviews” and “performance reviews” whenever they really got on her nerves. Never let it be said that Rika Hinami can’t hold a grudge~… She’s very petty. And gets very sore if you force her to work too much~… She would rather be left alone to her workshop in peace, and get paid for jobs, than attend class. Because high school education isn’t something she needs; she’s already got a Master’s Degree in Engineering worth of education by the time she got invited to Hope’s Peak. … Too bad her schoolmates don’t see it that way…

Saori Aisaka - Ultimate Cheerleader

Saori Aisaka. The Ultimate Cheerleader. Her family's motto is, "Anything is possible for an Aisaka!" It's a saying that has empowered Saori through many hardships in her cheerleading career… Because as much as people like to assume it's all sunshine and rainbows, cheerleading is pretty similar to pop idols in how girls can be cruel and cutthroat. Do anything to get ahead. … But this has never been Saori's style. In her eyes, if you stoop so low to sabotage to compete, you've already lost the battle. Because you can't handle your rivals at their best, and that just means you don't believe in the team you're cheering for. This idealistic mindset of hers has inspired many girls, both on her cheerleading squads and even girls all over the nation.

This positivity has even led Saori's teams to conquer national championships several times… Her middle school were undefeated champions in cheerleading with Saori's leadership and guidance, and she's gone on to raise up several cheerleading squads from Hope's Peak, and once she graduated she went on to lead college and university cheer squads… She goes from one university to the next each semester to stir up friendly competitive spirit and make each team feel like they can do anything. Still, as capable as this phenomenal young woman is, who is Saori Aisaka? Where does she come from? What are her dreams and ambitions?

Saori was born to a pair of researchers that work for the curious Natsuki Corporation. A few years before Saori was born, the company was saved from declaring bankruptcy, and has since risen up to become an entity that can go toe-to-toe with the Togami's, the Kamukura's, and other such big superpowers. But Natsuki won't sell out to those rival corporations, will not kneel to them or bend to their whims; Natsuki Corp has this mysterious ironclad will behind it that even the EOS Institute has been forced to recognize in recent years. Natsuki appears to have an interest in making a number of products that make everyday life more convenient and fulfilling. From cars, to clothes dryers, to remote--controlled robots that can entertain the kids, to miracle drugs… To so much more. Natsuki Corp covers a lot of bases. Saori's parents are a part of separate research teams, but they seem to have the time every morning and evening to spend time as a family with Saori. Whether it's just one or both of them.

Saori loves her family a lot, as such… As well as Natsuki Corp. Because it's a company unlike almost any other - it's a company that values the employees and their families. After a thorough interview and screening process, they determine if the families applying to work for them are healthy or if there's abuse or any other underlying issues lurking beneath the surface. If there IS abuse, Natsuki spares money and resources to provide counseling to improve the quality of those families' lives. That's why Saori's family's situation isn't so special; Natsuki values ALL of its employees. Her parents making time to be with her is just a sign that the company's interests and values are working. Treat the employees well, as the people they are, and you'll inspire loyalty. Saori and her parents have had no reason to doubt Natsuki Corp; it's like a dream company to work for.

Because of how well her life is at home, Saori has been a rather positive, upbeat, likeable individual ever since she was young. She's not EVERYONE'S friend, but she can be ANYONE'S friend if they're willing. Of course… With how "perfect" she seems on the surface, Saori has garnered a number of people that dislike her outright and suspect she has a darker side, spreading vicious rumors about her and her family… Saori was never the type to attack people in return or even just confront them about the pervasive rumors… No, in Saori's mind all she can do is prove the rumors wrong. To be the best person she can be, even on her bad or off days… And so, the best way she found to do that is to take up cheerleading. Because cheering isn't for her sake; it's to show school spirit and support her friends. And even support the people spreading rumors about her.

Saori first joined the cheer squad at eight years old. Elementary school didn't give her much exposure to how "savage" cheerleading could get, how cruel girls could be… But it was a good time to be introduced to the after school hobby, to begin to learn the routines and learn the value of teamwork and building one another up. Because of this bright and shiny beginning, Saori carried this idealism over into middle school where things started to get more fierce. Their upperclassmen began fostering a competitive edge into Saori's friends, but the aggressiveness never stuck with Saori. So when one of her best friends began disparaging a rival school, Saori had a heart-to-heart with her about it, right out in the open in front of everyone. She managed to convince her friend that it wasn't worth putting down the other school; they were better off devoting their energy to cheering for their team and believing they can win. And even if they lose, it's not the end of the world. They can just try harder next time.

Of course… Saori making her opinions public like that, a few older girls took offense to how naive and "stupid" she was being. They "challenged" Saori for the position of cheer squad captain, knowing full well that first-years weren't allowed to try for that position. Their goal was to get Saori in trouble with the teacher overseeing the team… But Saori accepted the challenge, not knowing the risks involved… And in the end, the teacher took Saori's side when she explained everything later, how it was the other girls' idea but Saori was willing to leave the team or accept any punishment if that smoothed over feathers. Saori had never given the teacher or anyone a reason to be harsh with her; she was always just striving to be the best she could be… And so, for the first time in their school's history a first-year was made the cheer squad captain.

And it turned out amazing. Saori led her team to national championships for the first time that year. Her cheerful nature, her stalwart beliefs in her friends and school, the synergy she developed with the cheer squad, and the charisma she began developing… It all contributed to her school becoming the national champions for the first time in its history, through sheer effort and positivity.

Saori would go on to make her middle school cheer squad a well-oiled machine in the coming years. They would have their ups and downs, but everyone had faith that so long as Saori was here to lead them, they'd pull through. Her motto of "Anything is possible for an Aisaka!" became a motto for the students in general; not as a condescending statement, but more of a can-do attitude. A simple sentiment, but Saori's friends loved how uplifting it is.

As high school rolled around… Kizakura came calling, and while Saori didn't like parting with her friends, the scout won her over with the idea that as the Ultimate Cheerleader, she could go around to various high schools and help them become better, more wholesome teams. Saori loves that idea a lot, and so she agreed to come to HPA. And once she graduated, she went on to support both high schools and universities, changing cutthroat attitudes to more honorable ones. Honoring the competition, inspiring everyone to be the best they can be.

Yumi Yano - Ultimate Announcer

Yumi Yano. The Ultimate Announcer. This plucky young lass is known nationwide for commentating at sports arenas, idol shows, gameshows, presenting the news, weather, music… She's presented sensational promotional events, and she's a regular on the radio. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and she's favored by citizens all over Japan because she can cheer people up just by the mere sound of her voice. But who is Yumi Yano? Where does she come from? What are her dreams and ambitions?

Yumi was born to a TV news anchor and his wife, who worked in a cubicle all day. Essentially… They were middle class, and it's not as if they were living paycheck to paycheck… However, her parents were so used to the daily grind that they were left pretty joyless. Having Yumi was one of the happiest moments of their lives, but it's not as if they could put off work forever and raise her and be a family. Bills needed to be paid, and they wanted to give Yumi a good future. Get her into a good university, go for a good paying career…

Yumi saw how hard her parents worked, and felt terrible for being a burden. Of course they never called her that; they even assured her many times that she wasn't a burden… But that's just how Yumi felt. They were so absorbed in the daily grind they rarely had the time to sit down and be a family. Go for fun outings… There was just never time for any of that.

But it wasn't just her life at home. Yumi also suffered at school, somewhat. She was never bullied, never hated, but her friends had their own lives. They tried being there whenever possible, but often club activities, family business, hobbies and interests, and other friends would take higher priority over Yumi. She gave it her all to be supportive, but in the end it left her feeling lonely and at the worst of times abandoned.

One day, though… Yumi was allowed to visit her dad at work. She didn't have anything going on at school, so she agreed to "ditch" for the day and get to tour a television studio. It turned out really well for her - while her dad handled a daytime program, one of the other programs ongoing at the time needed an emergency substitute announcer, and no one else seemed to be available immediately. They were going to delay the broadcast, but Yumi, so sweet and innocent, convinced the camera crew to let her try and help. Her dad was a news anchor, how tough could this be?

They were just going to humor her, continue to delay the broadcast and let the kid think she was on TV…. But to their amazement, she understood the script just fine, and even injected her own unique energy and ad-libs - stuff that only a kid could imagine. They ended up broadcasting Yumi, and it was her first successful show. Her dad didn't even find out until weeks later, when Yumi got called in for more gigs. At just mine years old, Yumi proved to be a natural at television, and viewers just ate her up.

For several months, Yumi had to learn to analyze and commentate sports matches, gameshows, and so much more. But like she was born for this, Yumi took to announcing like a duck to water. She was helping her dad's TV studio, and all the staff were being so nice to her, even paying her…! She felt accepted, and her appearances on TV even earned attention from her schoolmates who suddenly wanted to prioritize her and get to know her. Yumi wasn't an idiot; she knew her newfound popularity was only because she was becoming a rising TV and radio sensation, but even so… Yumi didn't begrudge them. If they wanted to be friends, Yumi was happy to oblige. And all that money she got for being a part-time announcer, she helped pay her parents' bills and this in turn awoke her parents to what they were unwittingly allowing to happen. It wasn't their intention for Yumi to grow up so fast… So they tried to do a 180 and be a family for Yumi's sake. … Too little too late, however. Yumi was happy to have her family and friends… But she connects this to her success as an announcer. If she were to go back to how things were, she would return to loneliness and misery. She doesn't resent anyone for pushing her to this lifestyle; but she wants to keep what she has. Yumi can't let the pain show, so she resolves to keep smiling and laughing. Keep everyone's spirits up, including her own. She wants to keep helping the TV studio, and she's considering the other studios and stations offering her gigs because of her talent.

So despite her parents' worries… Yumi keeps growing as an announcer. Through her work, she's met and commentated on Chiemi, Chou, Satsuki, Hitomi, Hana, Honoka, Mitsuba, Stella, Hiyoko, Ibuki, Junko, Kotoko, Sayaka, Emma, Kanade and Hibiki, and Tsumugi… Just to name a "few" of the talented people she's encountered in her prolific career. Each celebrity she meets just makes Yumi's popularity and notoriety grow, but the way she sees it is that Yumi helps these amazing people gain traction and affection from their fantasies, because she endorses and supports each and every one of them. She makes sure society knows why these people are amazing, and why they should be admired.

When Kizakura inevitably came knocking, Yumi all too gladly accepted the invitation, to her parents' chagrin. Her career was pretty up there already, but HPA clearly sees her as the best. … And they're proud of her, but her parents do regret that she grew up too fast. That they drove her to think this career is all that matters. It's not like they can hold her back anymore… But they hope that HPA can give her the friends that see past her public image and just want to be her friends. … Because she needs that no-strings-attached friendship, after feeling lonely for so long.

And she would get that special friendship years later, when Makoto arrives at HPA~…

Whew. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) If you made it this far, as a treat Class 73 is fully finished and just needs bios. They will be released definitely before Christmas week and I'm going to work very hard at getting them all ready very soon.

[reivrze]

紫 ៸៸ FOR ANYONE STARTING THEIR BLOG ˚ no credit needed but appreciated ! although if you do, dm me, i wanna see the outcome lmao

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In the depths of blue, find serenity. 사랑은 무한한 순간이다. Words dance, emotions sway.

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Bleeding ink, twisted fate. 혼돈 속에 아름다움은 탄생한다. Chaos reigns, sanity wanes.

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Whispers of the wind. 미소는 가장 아름다운 언어이다. The quietude of dusk unveils hidden dreams.

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In simplicity, lies elegance. 꽃 피면 나비 온다. Stars guide the lost.

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Soft petals of grace, kissed by the morning's embrace. 고요한 바람, 비밀이 펼쳐져요. Whispered truths, echoes of grace.

[poisonpeche]

Side to Side | Levi x You

Levi x Reader Smut | Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, Vaginal Fingering, Dacryphilia, Just being fucking filthy truly, Slight Angst, Reader is Fem Bodied, Reader is Switch, Levi is Switch, Squirting; this is my first smut piece so be gentle with me xx.

Word Count: ~3k

Art by me 🖤 Link to my Art Shop in my Tumblr Bio.

He always has a way to find you.

When you’re drowning in the details, an endless stream of thought and worry, or any other crime life seems to throw at his sweet girl. He swears if he could take you away from it all, he would. One day you won’t have to worry about bills, or survival, and this temporary struggle will all just be some frayed memory covered up by better days ahead.

He never wanted you to know the life he lived as a child and his stomach turns knowing he might be failing you through this. A decade by your side and you both got laid off within a few weeks of each other. He can’t help but curse whoever the fuck is out there for this cruel twist of fate. He doesn’t want to see you break like he did so long ago…You can’t. He won’t allow it. Not you.

Levi is keen to always bring you back. He adores you in all of your seasons and he made a promise to you to always lead you home. His patience is unyielding and never wavers for you no matter the cost. Tonight is no different.

Unlocking the door with a gentle turn of his hand, he intends to keep that promise.

He finds you sweetly nestled in the blankets of your bed. Chest rising and falling in an effort to self soothe from the difficult couple of months you’ve had adjusting to your new job in the city after you lost your dream position. Square one with less pay. You deserve so much more. When others can’t see what he sees in you, he can’t stand the delusion, the outright downplaying of your talent. He wonders if you will ever know how brave you are just by existing. Still trying to find the best in your life despite the odds. He knows how hard you try despite it all. For yourself. For him. You’re meant to have every comfort in this world and he is determined to give it all to you in time.

Carefully putting away his things in your bathroom and changing out of his clothes heavy with the burden of work, he gives you a few moments of peace before coming to your side.

A dim light is thrown throughout the room, your only company while waiting up for your partner and a chastising glow looming over you despite your best effort to keep it together. Just for another day of barely hanging on. Fighting exhaustion was futile once again, as you were swiftly swept under by sleep. Finding comfort in rest started to feel like a punishment, the guilt racking through your thoughts with relentless force…Can I find another job that pays better? Are we going to lose everything? Will we be okay? And yet, you succumb to it against your will.

But God, does it feel so good to runaway for once. Funny how your mind can be such a blessing and a curse; your constant reminder that your life is on a razor’s edge of being completely fucked and a source of blissful escapism. An image begins to form in your mind’s eye, coming into view. Delicate hands starting at your ankle, slowly grazing upwards past your soft muscle and skin daring to slow even further as they become more bold taking a more dangerous path once they hit your knee, trailing over your inner thighs.

You don’t even need to see his face to know his hands. The masterful way he builds you up before even thinking about beginning his innocent touches…until they aren’t. Maybe they weren’t ever meant to be. This is the gift he can give to you with no money, no power, or influence. He’s just a man, your man, making his way in life the same as you and he will give his mind, his body to you for as long as you’ll have him. His touch is always there even when he isn’t. That’s how deeply you cradle him in your subconscious, adoring him even through your restlessness. The love of your life.

You shift into his phantom touch, chasing an impending high, what only he can do to you.

He catches it from the corner of his eye while he’s rinsing his face from the day, droplets falling from his lashes and the black strands just above his silky undercut. An arched back, your arched back, taunting you in your sleep. He shamelessly watches on from the other side of the room, drinking you in with an amused smirk on his lips. What are you thinking about at this hour, sweet girl?

Almost as if he asked the question aloud, you respond in perfect time, “Lev’, please.”

His eyes widen in awe at the sight of you and you break your fall from the bend of your back, gently wrestling yourself to your side facing away from him. The cover falling to frame the curve of your hip, leaving you fully exposed with your back on display and your ass mocking him from afar.

“Please what, love?” He plays into your hand with a burning curiosity, softly asking in earnest. You’re still asleep, but he loves to toy with you like this. Somehow your charm and wit beam even in your half-baked haze. He loves that about you. How fiery and sharp-tongued you are, but when you’re alone with him you unravel so easily, showing him only the softest and most vulnerable parts of you. Only for him. Your self proclaimed weakness is why he fell in love with you. You are so many things, but your duality endlessly fascinates him. He is often so controlled and constant while you are passion in its purest form. Hearing you call out his name like this? He’s done. He’s already yours for the night. For every night.

He slowly walks to the bedside, now only a short distance from you as he settles down into the sheets with his feet on the floor, twisted around to face you with his hand outstretched behind him, inching closer to you. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze over your body pulls him down so naturally and effortlessly, a subconscious force; something else begins to take over.

And then, he smells it. And he knows without your clever answer. Even after ten years together, your arousal hits him through his heart like it was the first time and he visibly shudders with a deep, dark inhale to test his theory. Like he even needs to, but he’d bottle you up if he could. Eyes falling back as he rolls his neck towards you and back in disbelief with an exasperated laugh mixed with a guttural, shaky sigh. A scent like yours opens up the most primal desires inside of him, and both of your troubles begin to melt away. We will always have this while we lose it all.

He leans in fully on his side brushing his nose against the curve of your shoulder and neck, spooning you softly, listening to your labored breaths and watching his baby break apart at her own pace. What he would do to crawl inside this fantasy with you…or play a part.

As soon as you sense him there, you instinctively push your hips back with a gentle grind, a soft moan leaving your lips, and a dream that has now begun to feel deliciously real. Even on your side now alongside him, your back begins to curve, twist and arch into place, pushing you deeper into his crotch while your neck cranes further into his sharp jaw, his lips now making contact with your ear from behind.

At your gracious invitation, Levi provokes you further, giving the production in your mind the shameless direction it needs, delivering his first line so softly only for you.

“It’s okay my baby I’m here now.” Tongue gently falling forward, he licks an unbroken line up the contour of your neck to the shell of your ear, arching in tandem behind you with a tighter hold. “I know how hard you tried to wait for me.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth, laving over the bite. “You always try so hard for us love, even like this. Come back to me,” he pleads.

You sigh and twist in response to his lowered words, ass flush to his hips. The dark tint of his voice drawing you in without a fight, bringing you closer to the surface by inches, but too slow for your liking.

His left hand snakes under your arm, meeting the plush skin of your stomach, passing over your ribs, and sliding over your sternum to palm your throat so lovingly that even Levi is overwhelmed by how sweetly you accept his touch and welcome him to your bed, your home you both made together amidst it all. Together you always make something so beautiful while everything else seems to fall apart.

He encourages your head further back, so he can finally look at your face, your expression flitting between pleasure and frustration as you breech the surface of your dreams. He engulfs you in his hold, pressing you close to the warmth of his body, reaching forward to kiss the edge of your lashes. At the end of his small kiss, he slides his open mouth backwards up your cheek, teeth grazing as his breath fans out over your skin. You meet him with the intensity and instinctively drop your jaw open to unknowingly mirror him. Even sleep can’t take you out of sync with him.

His hand leaves your throat, sliding upward over the curve of your neck to hold your jaw and temple against his own, burning cheeks flush together. “Come on sweet girl, come to me. Let me see you and those eyes…I know you’re trying. I don’t want to leave you like this.” His final words sit heavily in your mind, finally rousing you from the darkest shadow of sleep with your eyes opening in a haze trying to determine if you were really free from your dream when this reality was just as lovely.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” The words drip off your tongue and always break his heart with your sincerity. You’re always so saccharine coming to, and when you use this name he feels just as pliant and tame. He doesn’t deserve it after everything he feels he has a hand in putting you through, but the selfish parts of him relish in the endearment. Maybe he could be sweet for you. Or you, for him. You always are.

“I know love…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Never can. Don’t wan’t to.” His hand cupping your jaw drags back down your body, gripping your skin with more fervor than the gentle touches he left you with before. He moves to the hem of your panties, stopping and rolling his fingers in a small circle below your navel. You gasp softly at the abrupt end in movement, curling your body closer into Levi, grinding in a deeper swivel over his crotch in time with both of your shared breaths, hardening to the touch with each movement of your hips.

“Missed your hands on me, Levi.”

“Did you?” You nod weakly in response, at his mercy now.

“Where, love? Tell me where and I’ll give them to you.” He breathes into you, desperation edging into every word.

“No…I’ll show you instead.” He sighs out taken aback by your sudden dominance. There she is, the girl that can’t resist to lead no matter how much she may try to destroy herself with doubt. He’ll never let you no matter how hard you try at times. God he wished he could convince you even after all this time he still believes in you like the first day he met you in college when he thought you were utterly untouchable. Too good for anyone, even him.

But you’d never even dare to encourage his own insecurities. Your heart would never allow it. You’ve never made him doubt his confidence in himself, in you. He thinks about all those years ago when he first saw you. Young and so new to the world, hanging out of his passenger’s side window with your eyes closed and your head tilted back on the sill. Much like now. Exactly like now. You’re older now, but just as beautiful. Time has been as kind to you as you have been with everyone that has the pleasure of knowing you, loving you.

Your hand covers his own, fingers interlocking side to side like your bodies against each other now as they travel downward, slipping under your panties together, a moan leaving both of your lips in unison. Turning your heads towards each other, you look at one another with only pure adoration as the rest of the world falls away. It’s only you and him together now; soft moans and touches the only legacy to your name. Both sets of eyes turn downward, watching your shared movement, a silent plea.

With your hands steadfast and laced, Levi’s middle finger grazes over your clit first, and you slowly throw your head back, opening up the space for him to move forward and catch your mouth in a hungry kiss, immediately rushing into a stronger embrace through your lips alone. Teeth clash without a second thought and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction to change the angle into a deeper, desperate kiss.

A single finger of yours lifts from his hold while your others remain locked together to meet him alongside your clit, rubbing smooth circles with him, matching his pace, sending a tremor though Levi’s body, vibrating your pussy against the lace of your underwear, the friction only drawing out more of your arousal and Levi falls apart.

“Look at you, always wanting to help, hm?” His response alone has you moaning for more of his words slipping through the cracks of his half-cocked smile. “Let me take care of you for once, my good girl.” You shake your head softly in protest and he lunges forward further, taking your nipple in his mouth rolling the plush of his lips until you’re straining against them, a pang of arousal throbs in your core. He knows he can edge you just by your chest alone, so sensitive to his touch, the movement of his tongue only heightening the sensation felt by both of your fingers on either side of your clit.

In a wordless response, you hook both of your fingers together, impatiently sinking into the velvet of your folds in tandem, slick pooling around both of your knuckles.

“Fuck, my baby’s so wet isn’t she? How long have you been like this, love? ‘M make it better for you, I promise. You waited for too long.” He says in shock while your scent permeates thickly through the air consuming his every thought. He only thinks of you now. It’s always been about you.

But this is not another moment without him you want to deny yourself of like so many that pass throughout the day apart, and you lead him further down still, fingers hooked, into your entrance that flutters while adjusting to the both of you as you thrust in together.

Gasping for dear life you manage to push him over the edge. “Make me wetter, Levi. I know you can.” Just when he thought he couldn’t take your smell teasing him senseless, your words put him into a panic as he lets out a low moan into the night air. You push him into a frenzy, hooking his fingers upward and he feels you follow suit inside of you, mimicking his every moment.

“I’ve got you love just hold onto me…Yeah, like that…I’ve been thinking about you just like this, begging for me, fucking yourself on my fingers. Using me. Wanna make you squirt on me like you did last time. Down my fucking throat, if you’ll let me,” he’s reeling with every grip around you both at his words. If he keeps talking like that you’ll scream.

He begins a slow thrust that you harmonize with so beautifully, following just behind, never leaving you without stimulation. The pads of both of your fingers brushing against each other. The pressure swells in below your stomach and you tighten around both of your movements, getting lost in your shared touch. He’s talking so close to you now, and yet you still can’t hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes are both pinned at the movement below, breath hitching at his disgusting words.

“Do you have it in you?…How much can you give me? You give us so much baby what’s a little more…Fuck, just let me taste you again like that.”

He rubs over the soft ridges inside you, causing your muscles to swell against you both and bringing you alarmingly close at his soft taunts. You pull your finger from alongside Levi’s to relieve the pressure and bring it upwards in between yours and his lips. Without provocation, you both lunge toward the slick dripping off your finger, fighting over the last drop, tongues pushing over and past each other mixing both of your saliva in with your arousal, an obstructed kiss. But to get the last word, you shove your glistening finger into Levi’s mouth, pinning his tongue down, causing him to gag against the elixir you’ve concocted together. He pathetically attempts to curl his tongue around you while tears begin to gather on his lash line. All for you. Mine.

“You’ll get every drop once I get to taste your tears,” your jeer maims him and has him nearly biting down on your fingers lodged deep in his throat, his teeth leaving throbbing indents against the bone.

If Levi believes your smell deserves to be bottled and treasured, then his tears are your prize. How many times will you make him cry out from tonight or until the end in torment and exaltation? The anguished thought always pushes you to the edge, pushes you to crane upward and lick his tears breaking free while he hopelessly chokes on your fingers.

Their taste alone has brought a thin sheen of sweat to your skin. Sweet, salty, subtle. Just like Levi. And you want more.

As a challenge, he slips out of you trailing the remains of your dripping cunt over your inner thigh, to your side, and then hooks his hand underneath the back of your left knee, folding it upward to the ceiling and into your side, closer to him as he spoons you. Your obscenely wet cunt catching the cool air on display.

If you get his tears, he only takes in return.

“Give me your fucking pussy. I want all of you. Now.”

A loud moan escapes you in surprise while his eyes rake up and down you with his growl. He’s bolder than ever and begging to ruin you even after all this time. Promising. No matter what it takes just like every other promise he’s made and kept throughout the years. Always here to lift you from the pain of shouldering this life and all of its unpredictability, finding you and leading you out of the spiral of doubt and confusion, to your home within each other.

And you’ll let him take you. Until the end.

***

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