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admiringlove · 5 months ago

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➵ pairing. gojo satoru x fem! reader.

➵ summary. gojo satoru was a slytherin through and through—cunning, clever, and infuriatingly charming, with a reputation as both a prodigy and a troublemaker. you, a gryffindor prefect, couldn't be more different—fearless, fiercely principled, and far too stubborn to let someone like him get under your skin. or so you thought. by day, the two of you bicker and clash, bound only by your shared duty, but by night, within the room of requirement, you're partners in something far greater—a secret operation known as the marauders, granting the whispered wishes of hogwarts students.

➵ warnings. gojo being gojo; mentions of unforgivable curses; mentions of strangling someone (gojo); mentions of injury; slytherins being called anarchists; snape; mentions of hexing a cat (i think that counts as animal cruelty but idk for sure); profanity; slight timeline inaccuracy bc i like professor fig so i kept him in the fic w the others; etc.

➵ genre. wizarding world au; academic rivals to lovers; enemies to lovers; angst; fluff; adventure; etc.

➵ word count. 6.6k.

➵ author's note. so so excited to introduce you guys to mischief managed! big thanks to @gojofile for proofreading. have fun reading, and i hope slytherin prefect gojo warms your hearts <3 also also, taglist is still open!

➵ navigation. masterlist, next.

Gojo Satoru.

The mere mention of his name was enough to stir an unpleasant bitterness in your mouth—like biting into a sour Acid Pop, sharp and unforgiving. He leaned casually against one of the stone pillars near the corridor leading to the Great Hall, his posture so relaxed it was almost infuriating. You, however, stood at the top of the steps leading down to the bustling crowd of prefects below, arms crossed tightly over your chest, waiting. It was the sort of wait that carried the weight of years—years of dealing with him, with this. You had, like the others, arrived promptly, but unlike them, you had been watching the clock tick away in growing frustration, the minutes wasted under the strain of his absence.

With every second that passed, the sour taste in your mouth grew. You were no stranger to his arrogance, no stranger to the fact that Gojo Satoru never seemed to care about anyone else’s time but his own. How predictable, how utterly insufferable. He had this remarkable ability to ruin an entire evening simply by being late, the kind of late that stretched from a few minutes into an eternity. The others, however, had long since forgiven his transgressions, accepting the lack of discipline as some sort of unavoidable part of his charm.

You didn’t share that sentiment.

He walked up to the group then, casually slipping past the other prefects who all, unsurprisingly, seemed more than willing to let his tardiness slide. His lips curled into that infuriatingly charming, carefree smile, and the first few apologies that spilled from his mouth were as hollow as they were insincere. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking entirely too pleased with himself. If there was one thing you had to give him credit for, it was his ability to navigate the world with a confidence so blinding it nearly rendered everyone around him incapable of holding a grudge.

Except, of course, for you.

You could feel the weight of your own gaze burning into his back as he spoke. He was an impossible contradiction—infuriating, selfish, and absurdly arrogant, and yet, undeniably captivating. Even with all his faults, there was something magnetic about him. Those piercing blue eyes of his, so impossibly bright, and the soft curve of his lips, perpetually tipped upwards in a self-assured grin, had a power over people that you could not quite ignore. You’d seen it yourself—the way his presence could make entire groups of students lose their composure, how even the toughest of professors faltered under his gaze.

But not you.

You couldn’t care less for his entrancing gaze, nor for the way his words slipped from his lips like honey, perfectly crafted to disarm and beguile. His blue eyes, though striking, could not erase the irritable taste of his disregard. And his smile? It only made your stomach churn. You had learned long ago to keep your distance, to shield yourself from the charms that so effortlessly ensnared the rest. You were no fool.

"Alright, round up," calls the Head Girl, her voice slicing through the hum of conversation like a well-aimed hex. You sigh, already weary, and stand as she begins to rattle off the night’s patrol assignments. Your fingers toyed absently with the sleeve of your robe while you listened, half-attentive, until the sound of his name snapped you into focus.

Your gaze found him instinctively, as if drawn by some unseen force you hated to acknowledge. He was leaning back against the wall, all easy confidence, that maddening smirk tugging at his lips. Those pink lips, which were far too perfect for a boy who never seemed to put in any effort at all.

“[L/N], you’re with Gojo. Astronomy Tower and the North Wing.”

You exhaled sharply, the sound almost lost in the shuffle of murmurs and groans from the other prefects. Of course. Of course. You could practically feel his satisfaction radiating across the room without even looking at him. But you couldn’t resist. Your eyes flicked back to his, catching the faint tilt of his head, the knowing gleam in his irises. That smirk had only grown wider, as though he knew exactly how much this would infuriate you.

He always did.

You brushed past him on your way out, your shoulder caught the edge of his robe in a deliberate slight. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, only watched you with that insufferable grin as though you amused him beyond words. You ignored him—pointedly, completely. He wasn’t worth your breath tonight.

There was too much at stake. You had an hour of patrol to endure before you could finally collapse into bed, and an early Potions lesson tomorrow morning with Snape waiting to shred your dignity into pieces. Snape adored Gojo, of course. He always found reasons to praise him, whether for his technique or his "sharp mind," as if the boy ever cared about rules or discipline. You, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky.

You could still feel the sting from the first day back, the dull thud of Snape’s heavy Potions tome cracking against the back of your skull because you’d dared to yawn during his lecture. Gojo, meanwhile, had been sprawled at the back of the class, sound asleep, the faint rise and fall of his chest utterly unbothered. Snape hadn’t said a word to him. Not one.

As you stepped out of the eastern wing and into the cool, open air, the castle loomed behind you, its shadow stretching long and dark across the grounds. Your footsteps echoed faintly against the cobblestones, their rhythm unsteady, almost reluctant. You yawned, stifling the sound with the back of your hand, though the ache of it lingered in your jaw. It had been a day—a week, really. The first week of your sixth year at Hogwarts, and already it felt like you’d lived through months.

The Astronomy Tower rose ahead, its silhouette sharp against the star-flecked sky. The air was crisp, biting against your skin as you fought to keep your eyes open. Another yawn threatened to escape, but you forced it down.

“A little tired, are we?”

His voice cut through the quiet, smooth and sharp, his steps falling in perfect cadence with yours. The click of his boots on the stone floor reminded you of a metronome, steady and deliberate, as if the universe itself aligned to his whims. You didn’t look back, didn’t even bother to reply. A hum escaped your lips instead, low and dismissive, but you knew it wouldn’t deter him.

“You know,” he continued, unperturbed, “I didn’t see you at dinner tonight, Fawkes Junior.”

The nickname landed with its usual weight, heavy but familiar, like a coat you’d grown used to wearing despite its ill fit. It wasn’t the “Fawkes” that bothered you anymore—not after you’d finally experienced the beauty of the bird last year. The phoenix was a marvel, even more luminous than you’d imagined, its plumage shimmering with an otherworldly glow. No, it was the “Junior” that still irked you, the diminutive edge of it, the implication that you were less than.

You remembered that moment in Dumbledore’s office, the phoenix rising from its ashes with a blaze of light so blinding it had brought tears to your eyes. Dumbledore had watched you closely, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he recited the same words he’d spoken countless times before. A phoenix, he’d told you, could carry the heaviest of burdens, its tears more potent than any potion. He’d winked then, a gesture that felt both knowing and unnervingly intimate. You’d laughed it off, of course. What else could you do?

Shaking the thought from your mind, you replied curtly, “I was in the library. Something about Quidditch. McGonagall wanted me to look over the first-years’ picks.”

“Ah.” His voice curled around the word, drawn out and laden with that peculiar tone he used when he wanted to draw people in. You hated that tone, the way it made you feel like a moth fluttering dangerously close to a flame. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to up my game, then. Can’t let you Gryffindors get too comfortable. The House Cup is ours this year.”

You glanced at him then, just long enough to catch the glint of mischief in his eyes, the faint tilt of his lips. “You and I both know we won last year fair and square,” you said, your voice tinged with accusation. “Not that you didn’t try to hex our Seeker into food poisoning before the match.”

He laughed, a low, melodic sound that set your teeth on edge. “And you caught me. Hexed me right back, if I recall.”

“It was deserved.”

“I’m still the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in our generation,” he said, his tone mockingly self-assured.

You arched a brow as you ascended the final steps to the Astronomy Tower. His claim was, unfortunately, true, but you’d never admit it—not to him, not to anyone. Instead, you let silence answer for you, the faintest quirk of your lips the only acknowledgment of his words.

The door to the tower creaked open, the chill of the night air spilling over your skin. He stepped ahead, turning to face you with that same infuriating grin, as if he’d already won whatever battle was brewing between you.

It was the first week of September, and the air already carried a bite to it—sharp and unwelcome for the Quidditch players who would soon be out on the pitch. You pulled your cloak a little tighter around yourself, biting back the impulse to complain about the chill, but it slipped out anyway. "Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath, though the frustration wasn’t entirely with the weather. "Not that I mind it, really. I quite like it. It’s just—"

"—going to be a bummer while we’re playing Quidditch," he finished for you, his voice light, teasing, like always. You didn’t even look at him when you said it, but you knew he'd be grinning that absurd grin of his, the one that seemed capable of disarming entire rooms with nothing more than a flash of teeth.

"Right. And you try to find a new way to cheat. Again," you added, rolling your eyes at the inevitable.

He chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to vibrate through the very air between you. "I say we stay here for the hour," he proposed, his tone one that would’ve convinced anyone else in the world. But not you. "Not like anyone gives a damn. Nobody’s going to be out in the North Wing at this time, except for us. Not when the dungeons lead directly to the Room—"

You could feel the weight of his words, could almost see the exact way his eyes would be sparkling with the promise of mischief, the way his mind was already working out the logistics of evading anyone who might ruin his latest scheme. He was clever, yes—brilliant, even. But it was always something else. That glint in his eye, that knowing smirk, the feeling like there was more behind every word and every movement. He was a bloody narcissist, but you could admit it: he made it look like an art.

You shook your head, muttering a small "Shut up," with a stern tone, eyes fixed ahead, refusing to even glance in his direction. As you brushed past him, your shoulder nudged his as a small warning, the smallest of touches, but enough to tell him that you weren’t in the mood for whatever else was about to come out of his mouth.

"You’re such a bore," he muttered, his voice dripping with mockery as he rolled his eyes. You huffed, the sound escaping you before you could fully hold it in, and made your way toward one of the arches. The cool wind rushed against your face, teasing the strands of hair that had escaped your ponytail, and you felt a warmth rise to your cheeks. The Black Lake stretched before you, vast and murky, the Forbidden Forest just beyond it, a dark, intimidating blur. The rustle of leaves whispered to you on the breeze, and the air itself smelled fresh, clean. It was almost peaceful—if not for his insufferable presence.

"I'm only doing what's asked of me, Gojo," you said, voice cutting through the silence between you. Your eyes flicked to him, and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was leaning casually against the stone, an impossibly carefree smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "If you can’t do your job, maybe you shouldn’t be a prefect. You’re not fit for it anyway."

"I know," he said, his tone suddenly so dramatically solemn it made you want to roll your eyes in return. "I’m only fit to be the most marvelous person at this school, unfortunately. Everyone else is... well, they’re just ordinary, and that bothers me. Except for you. And Suguru. Maybe Shoko." His gaze flickered to you, challenging you to disagree, but you remained silent, too exhausted to indulge him.

"I thought I was a bore," you said, raising an eyebrow as you turned to face him, arms folded loosely across your chest. He chuckled low, the sound rich and almost taunting.

"Oh yes," he agreed easily, “You are a bore. You're sort of filthy, too, really. I get this weird, uncomfortable feeling whenever I see you—like a cockroach."

You didn’t have to look at him to know the grin that must have spread across his face at his own words. You could feel it in the tone of his voice, could practically see the smugness radiating from him. You twisted away, sharply, walking back toward the stone staircase that led down. “This cockroach,” you muttered, “will hex you to fall out of the tower to your death.”

"Ah, threatening me again," he said, a laugh in his voice as he followed, always too close behind. "You really should be careful. I wouldn’t want to be the one to give you an excuse to use that hex."

"Come along," you snapped, the patience draining from you. "I suggest we finish our patrol soon so I can actually get some sleep."

"And I," he replied without missing a beat, his voice light, "shall nap in Snape’s class tomorrow. We’re learning about the Blood-Replenishing Serum anyway. I did it last year—privately, of course. I’ll probably just wait until we actually have to brew it to pay attention."

"Self-absorbed prick," you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, as always. His grin widened, as if he had just received the highest form of praise, and his eyes sparkled with mock admiration.

"Pitiful nag," he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t even have to try to sound smug. It was just part of who he was. And the worst part was, you couldn’t help but be aware of how much it irked you. And, somehow, how much you... didn’t mind it at all.

The next morning, Snape’s voice droned on like a monotonous hum, the same lecture about the Blood-Replenishing Serum that Satoru had so carelessly mentioned the night before. You sighed quietly, your quill scraping against the parchment as your thoughts drifted, mind half on the lesson and half on the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. Every so often, you glanced up, only to see Gojo doing exactly what he'd said he would do: napping.

His head was cradled in his arms, the silky white strands of hair fanning out around him like some sort of halo, and his chest rose and fell with each slow, rhythmic breath. You scoffed under your breath. Typical.

Turning your attention back to Snape, you could feel the tension build in the pit of your stomach. The silence in the room lingered longer than usual, and when his eyes met yours, it hit you like a punch to the gut.

Shit.

"[L/N], would you care to enlighten us?" Snape's voice was smooth, deliberate. "What exactly seems to be distracting you from this crucial lesson in the very field you have expressed an interest in pursuing upon graduation? Do you or do you not want to go to St. Mungo’s?"

You blinked, the weight of the question settling over you as you rose from your seat. There was no use in pretending; he saw right through you, as usual. "Sorry, sir," you mumbled, staring down at your notes with a sudden sense of urgency.

He didn't buy it. You could feel his presence looming over you as he approached your desk, the air thick with expectation. "Without consulting your notes," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing, "name five ingredients required to make this serum work effectively. Without fail."

Your stomach twisted, but you met his gaze. The whispers of your classmates buzzed at the edges of your hearing, but they didn’t matter. You had been listening—despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on you—and now it was time to prove it.

"Powdered unicorn horn, sir," you said, voice steady, making sure to pause, "for its restorative and revitalizing properties. Knotgrass. Ginseng Root. Phoenix feathers. And Essence of Dittany."

There was a long pause, his gaze unrelenting, studying you like a hawk eyeing its prey. For a moment, you thought your heart might beat out of your chest. Then, finally, he let out a low hum, almost as if he were impressed but refused to let it show.

Without another word, he turned, striding back to the front of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake. You slowly exhaled, unaware that you’d been holding your breath. The weight on your shoulders lifted slightly, and you sank back into your seat, your quill still hovering over the paper.

You turned your head, drawn by the weight of his gaze. Gojo Satoru watched you, his expression unreadable, a kind of casual indifference that masked something deeper, something you couldn’t name. He didn’t look away, not at first, just met your eyes for a long, deliberate moment before letting his head slump down again, a silent punctuation to whatever this unspoken exchange had been. You rolled your eyes and forced your attention back to the lesson, willing your pulse to even out.

By the time you emerged from the classroom, booksack slung over one shoulder, he was waiting, as though he had planned it all along. He fell into step beside you, grinning the grin that always made you question why the universe bothered with him at all.

“Looks like you’ve been brushing up on Potions,” he said breezily. “I might actually have competition now.”

“You’re not all that great, Gojo,” you replied, voice flat with practiced disinterest. You waved a quick goodbye to Utahime and Nanami, your friends already slipping into the tide of students heading toward their next class.

“Besides,” you continued, “don’t you have Suguru to bother?”

He groaned theatrically. “Him and Shoko don’t have Potions with us first period this year. Absolute tragedy. If Suguru did, I wouldn’t have to spend every lecture napping.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said, scoffing. “How can you even—”

“Ask me anything,” he interrupted, hands tucked casually in his robe pockets, his tone too smug for someone talking about Potions theory. “Anything we learned today. Go on.”

You stared at him, wishing—for perhaps the hundredth time—that there weren’t rules against strangling your classmates. The image of your hands wrapped around his neck, his perfect jawline slackening, his too-blue eyes dimming, was fleeting but satisfying. Instead, you sighed, letting the moment pass.

“You’re a bastard,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t have time for this. We’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts now, and unlike you, I actually care about passing.”

“Ah, DADA. Another subject you just happen to excel at,” he drawled, his voice laced with mock admiration.

“I excel because I work for it, not because I’ve got daddy’s money and a legacy to coast on.”

“Convenient how you keep forgetting I’m better than you at everything,” he said, the grin widening.

“Not everything.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re the dueling queen now. We both remember what happened to that poor third-year's cat last year,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“And yet, I’ve beaten you. Twice.” You smirked, savoring the memory of those duels. “I am Head of the Dueling Club, remember?”

“Because you’re unbearable?”

“No. Because I’m better.”

“You still can’t get the Patron—”

“Gojo Satoru and [L/N] [Y/N].”

The voice was sharp and clipped, and you both turned as one. Professor McGonagall stood in the corridor, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

“I trust,” she began, striding toward you with the air of someone who had better things to do than reprimand wayward students, “the two of you are maintaining decorum this year.”

You winced, the memory flaring sharp and uncomfortably vivid. Last year, an argument between you and Gojo had spiraled into chaos in the courtyard. Wands raised, tempers hot, and spells flying—until yours, a hex meant for Gojo, ricocheted off a stray shield charm and struck someone’s cat instead. The poor creature froze mid-leap, rigid and unblinking, to the horror of its owner and the delight of a small crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle. McGonagall had arrived moments later, her reprimand as swift and merciless as her counter-curse. The scolding had burned itself into your memory, along with the mortifying sight of the cat limping off, thoroughly unimpressed. You'd received detention for the first time that year.

“Yes, Professor,” you said, your voice meek in comparison to how you’d spoken to Gojo moments earlier. “We were just heading to class.”

“Good.” Her sharp gaze flicked to Gojo, who suddenly seemed far less amused. “And I trust Mr. Gojo hasn’t been neglecting his responsibilities. If I find you late for your rounds again tonight, you’ll no longer be in contention for Captaincy of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Madam Hooch and Professor Snape will see to that. Do I make myself clear?”

Gojo swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, his voice devoid of its usual bravado.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, quickly masked behind your Potions textbook. His humiliation was rare, and you intended to savor every moment of it.

As you walked away from the corridor and towards DADA, your smile only widens. This year might just turn out to be more interesting than the last after all.

When you entered the Great Hall for dinner that night, you spotted Gojo immediately. He’s at the Slytherin table, a loose sprawl of limbs, his laughter a little too loud, his hair catching the light like spun silver. You glanced away before he hooked you in, too. It's a small, bitter truth: you would have liked to sit with Shoko tonight. But she was at the Slytherin table, and the social architecture of Hogwarts had always been unkind to cross-house friendships.

You settled instead next to Utahime, who is demolishing her plate with a ferocity that suggests starvation, and across from Nanami, who has arranged his roasted parsnips into orderly lines. You helped yourself to a pasty and let the quiet chaos of dinner roll around you.

“Do you have rounds tonight?” Nanami asks. His voice is steady, his gaze as deliberate as his movements. Everything about him measured, careful. A newly minted Prefect, he wore the title like it was a chore he knew he’d never be allowed to set down.

“No,” you said, reaching for another pasty. “Iori might.”

Both of you turned to Utahime, who paused her assault on a piece of roast lamb long enough to let out an exhausted sigh. “Of course I do,” she said. “I have rounds, I have Quidditch, I have first-years practically dangling off me like flobberworms. Did you know McGonagall’s been having me run drills with Itadori? That kid’s a menace. Eleven years old and flying like he was born with a broom in his hand. Eleven! At that age, I could barely manage not to knock myself out midair.”

“You got scouted at the end of first year,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Because I broke half the bones in my body trying to,” she shot back, grabbing what looks like a slice of shepherd’s pie—or maybe baked potatoes. It was hard to tell anymore, the table a patchwork of dishes, all melting into each other. “Itadori didn’t even have to try. Just showed up and decided to be brilliant. No learning curve. No effort. Nothing.” She shakes her head as if personally offended. “I hate people like that.”

Nanami nodded solemnly, as if Itadori’s existence were a philosophical tragedy. You scarfed down a Yorkshire pudding, barely tasted it, and pushed your plate aside. “Going somewhere?” Utahime asked, raising an eyebrow. “You were eating like you had somewhere to be.” “Snape,” you lied smoothly, leaning back in your seat. “I had some errands from today’s class.” She snorted. “I heard what happened today. Good luck trying to appease that sourpuss.” You laughed, the sound light, harmless. It was an easy lie, so practiced that it slipped off your tongue without weight. Let her think it was Snape. Let her think it was anything but the truth.

The truth, as you glanced toward the Slytherin table, was waiting. Shoko caught your eye first, and you gave her a small wave and an exaggerated grin that she returned. She turned back to something Suguru was saying, and then, just for a moment, Gojo’s gaze found yours.

It was quick—imperceptible to anyone else, but it was there. A look. A nod. That was all it took.

He stood, his departure casual enough to be an afterthought, though you knew better. You watched him slip through the Great Hall doors, his frame momentarily silhouetted against the darkened corridor before he was gone.

You reached for dessert—chocolate gateau, custard—but left the ice cream untouched. No time tonight.

Something, or someone, awaited you. Both, perhaps.

“I’m heading up,” you murmured, pushing back your chair. “I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah?”

Utahime barely glanced up. Nanami nodded, distracted. No one questioned it. Why would they? You gathered your things and stood, your resolve quiet but purposeful.

The lie had been effortless. The truth, however, was already starting to make its demands.

You stood, smoothing the creases of your robes with deliberate care, before slipping quietly out of the Great Hall. The buzz of conversation receded behind you, replaced by the low hum of torchlight flickering against stone walls. You moved quickly but not hurriedly, your eyes darting to the shadows, tracking movement that wasn’t there. You were certain the white-haired idiot had taken the quickest route—through Professor Fig’s classroom, perhaps ducking into the dungeons if he had been feeling bold. Typical Gojo, always choosing chaos and convenience in equal measure. You, of course, were left with the scenic route.

A sigh escaped your lips, soft as a feather, as you veered left down a quieter corridor. It was second nature by now, mapping out where Filch would be at this hour. Filch was predictable. His blasted cat, however, was not.

Rounding the corner, you stopped short. Mrs. Norris. The yellow-eyed menace herself. She sat planted in the middle of the corridor like a gargoyle come to life, her tail flicking languidly against the flagstone floor. Those unnervingly bulbous eyes fixated on you, unblinking, as though she had been expecting you all along.

You froze, your hand instinctively twitching toward your pocket—not for your wand, no, but for something far more effective. You had learned her ways, after all. It had taken a few unfortunate encounters, a near-miss with Filch, and a fair bit of trial and error, but you had cracked her code.

Fish pie. Trout. Even a sliver of smoked salmon would do. You had kept a stash since fourth year, just for occasions like this. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled a neatly wrapped morsel from your pocket and held it out. Her ears perked up, and for the briefest moment, you swore her sharp features softened. She approached, silent as a ghost, her eyes darting from you to the bribe.

You crouched, placing the offering on the stone. She sniffed once, twice, then devoured it with alarming efficiency. Satisfied, she gave you a look that felt almost approving, before slinking away into the shadows.

You exhaled, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you straightened up. Mrs. Norris might have been Filch’s enforcer, but even she had her price. You glanced down the corridor, the way clear now, and continued on your path. What awaited you at the end of this journey—well, that was a secret you intended to keep.

The Hospital Wing loomed just ahead, its faintly glowing windows casting soft squares of light onto the cold stone floor. You kept close to the shadows, your footsteps light as a whisper, your gaze flicking toward the open door. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, but you knew better than to trust the stillness. She had an uncanny way of appearing precisely when students would have preferred her not to.

Your hand brushed the cool banister of the staircase as you ascended, the air shifting subtly, growing cooler and quieter with every step. The torches along the corridor flickered faintly, their light wavering as if uncertain whether to welcome or warn you. You glanced back once, twice, the hush of the castle wrapping itself around you like a cloak. You were close now. Close enough to feel the familiar pull in your chest, an inexplicable certainty that drew you forward.

The corridor narrowed, the stones beneath your feet vibrating faintly, like the heartbeat of the castle itself. You reached out, your fingers grazing the smooth curve of a pillar, and paused. The walls ahead began to shift. Slowly, subtly, they rippled like water disturbed by a single drop. Then, as if answering an unspoken request, the stones crackled and ground against each other, carving themselves into something new.

The outline of a door emerged, its edges glowing faintly before darkening into a deep, obsidian black. The transformation was seamless, almost elegant in its inevitability. A smile tugged at your lips, small and triumphant. The Room always answered, but the spectacle never failed to enchant.

You pressed your palm against the cool surface of the door, letting it ground you for a moment. The world felt impossibly quiet now, the weight of secrecy pressing against your ribs. One more glance over your shoulder, a final check to ensure you were alone. The corridor was empty, the castle asleep in its ancient stillness.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. It glided inward without resistance, revealing the familiar expanse beyond.

The Room of Requirement greeted you with its usual, maddening perfection. The cavernous ceiling stretched high above, shrouded in shadow, while bookshelves lined the walls in neat, endless rows. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the cozy seating arranged nearby. Round tables dotted the space, their surfaces scattered with parchment and ink. On the far side, a collection of training dummies stood silently, their worn surfaces gleaming faintly in the firelight. The space was vast and intimate all at once, a sanctuary conjured just for you.

But then your eyes landed on him.

Standing near the corner, his white hair catching the golden light like a beacon, was Gojo Satoru. He leans against a bookshelf with his usual infuriating ease, a smirk playing across his lips. His eyes, those unnervingly sharp blues, found yours immediately, and for a moment, you swore he’d been waiting here all along.

“Welcome back, Fawkes Junior,” he drawled, his voice breaking the spell of the room, his smirk deepening as he took in your expression. “You’re late.”

“No matter.” You shrugged, brushing past him and making your way to the sprawling pinboard that dominated the far wall. Tacked to it were parchment scraps and intricately scrawled maps of the castle, the grounds, even the surrounding Forbidden Forest. The parchment looked well-used, edges curling and stained with ink spills and hurried fingers. Across the room, a long table was strewn with yet more parchment, quills, and ink bottles. A small lantern burned low at its center, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Gojo had, at least, taken the liberty of setting up the space for that night’s work. Small mercies.

You shrugged your robe off, tossing it carelessly over a chair as you approached the table. “Let’s get started. How many requests so far?”

“Four,” Gojo replied, lounging lazily against the table with that infuriating grin of his. He tapped his finger against a short list he'd scribbled onto a scrap of parchment. “All from different drop points. I checked the rest last night, after rounds. Nothing new since.”

You leaned over the table, your eyes scanning the list. One particular entry caught your attention—a hastily written note, its ink smudged and nearly illegible. You tapped it with your finger. “Is this one from Reynard Willis? That new fifth-year transfer from Ilvermorny?”

Gojo smirked, his white hair catching the light in a way that made you want to throttle him. “The very same. Apparently, he was in desperate need of a Time-Turner. Got himself into some… personal entanglements he’d like to sort out.”

You let out a sharp laugh. “A Time-Turner? Is he insane? How does he even know about us?”

“Word gets around,” Gojo said with a shrug, though his grin widened. “Shall we indulge him?”

“Absolutely not,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “From what I’ve heard, he’s the type to lose his own wand, let alone keep something like that safe. No. Too risky. Reject it and take up this one instead.” You pointed to another request, this one penned in neat, precise handwriting. “Partridge Locks, seventh year. Wants her Charms grades adjusted from a pop quiz. Harmless enough. We won’t even have to touch her professors’ files—just a quick charm on the grade book.”

“Boring,” Gojo groaned. “Though you’re right. Getting caught stealing Time-Turners from McGonagall’s office would be catastrophic. You’re lucky you already have one. You get to parade around with something so precious while I—”

“I use it to attend all my classes,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “History of Magic and Ancient Runes are scheduled at the same time this year, and I wasn’t about to choose between them. Believe me, it’s hardly glamorous.”

“Still not fair,” he muttered, pouting. “Alright, fine. I’ll handle Locks. If I time it right, I can slip into Flitwick’s classroom through the dungeons.” He leaned over the map, tracing a path from the Hospital Wing to the Astronomy Tower. “Exit here, loop back toward the Great Hall, and no one will even notice.”

You crossed your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Is there one for me? These other two seem simple enough. What’s this one about sneaking a love potion into the Ravenclaw Tower?” You plucked the parchment from the pile, scanning it. “Ooh, to Higuruma? Interesting. That could be fun. Though he’s clever—he probably wouldn’t drink it.”

Gojo snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Clever? Please. He’s a Prefect, not a genius. You could slip it into his breakfast tomorrow morning, and he’d down it without a second thought. Besides,” he added with a dramatic wave of his hand, “I hate sneaking into the Ravenclaw Tower. Riddles to get inside? Who has the patience for that?”

You laughed, a quiet, mischievous sound that echoed softly in the dim room. “Fine. I’ll take care of it. But if he figures it out, I’m blaming you.”

“No one even knows who the Marauders are,” he said, leaning back in his chair with an air of smug satisfaction. “For all they know, we could be an underground organization—some shadowy network pulling strings behind the scenes. It’s kind of brilliant if you think about it. Nobody suspects it’s just two bored students who stumbled across the Room of Requirement and thought it’d be fun to enchant parts of the castle to take requests.”

His grin widened, and you hated how infuriatingly infectious it was. “Come on, Fawkes, loosen up a little.”

“Loosen up?” You shot him a pointed look, then crossed your arms, leaning against the table. “You almost revealed to the entire Potions corridor that we can conjure Patronuses. Patronuses, Gojo. Do you even comprehend how much trouble we’d be in if McGonagall overheard? Let alone Snape. Although, knowing him, he’d probably let you off the hook and come after me instead. I’d be expelled before you could blink.”

You shuddered at the thought, and he snorted. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes. It’s honestly painful.”

“And yet, somehow, I still don’t know what your Patronus is,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. “The one thing I’m actually curious about, and you keep it locked up like some great clan secret.”

“It was all part of the mystery,” he said, his lips curling into that insufferable smirk. “Anyway, I’ve been working on something. A little… project. Something that might help us out.”

“What kind of project?” you asked, one brow arching.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He clicked his tongue, wagging a finger at you. “You think I’m just going to tell you? Please. You’ll see it when it’s done. Next week, maybe. Until then, you’ll just have to suffer in suspense.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling dramatically. “I hate you, you know that?”

He grinned, all teeth and mischief, as though he’d won some unspoken game. You grabbed another parchment from the pile on the table and scanned it, a frown tugging at your lips. “Take this one, too,” you said, sliding it toward him. “A Quidditch request. Someone—oh, of course, it’s a Slytherin—wants us to hex a Bludger for next week’s Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw match. Anarchists, the lot of you. Just want to watch the world burn.”

He laughed, the sound reverberating off the high stone walls. “What can I say? Chaos is entertaining.”

You dropped into the chair where your robe was slung, your posture dissolving into a practiced slouch. “This year better be fun,” you muttered, your voice edged with a hint of boredom. “These requests have been so dull. Remember last year, when someone asked us to enchant everyone’s quills during the O.W.L.s? Now that was creative. I want more of that. Something… exciting.”

Gojo leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his gaze gleaming with intrigue. “Patience, Fawkes. You never know what the castle might throw our way.”

You sighed, letting your head tilt back against the chair, the flickering torchlight casting strange, restless shadows across the room. Despite the monotony of the tasks before you, there was an undeniable thrill in the secrecy, the subterfuge, the strange magic that bound you and Gojo to the whispers of the castle.

And somewhere, deep down, you knew this was only the beginning.

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astro-inky · 6 months ago

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the aquamarine au

Info about au below (or at least what i have so far)

-based on the 2006 move Aquamarine, a teen romcom about two teenage girls meeting a mermaid and helping her find love to achieve their wish of one of them not moving away (its my childhood). this au takes basic plot ideas from the movie but with major changes

Jimmy and Joel are both 17. Jimmy's family owns a small, local beach resort where he also lives. Joel lives next door and they're basically attached at the hip and spend all their time at the resort. It's tense between them because Joel is moving far away by the end of the summer.

Scar is 19. He's been working at the beach as a lifeguard since he was in high school. Local sweetheart, everybody loves him. Seems like he sucks at his job, but nothing wrong ever really happens on his shift. Known flrt.

Grian is an unknown age but closer to Scar than Jimmy and Joel. I'm still working out his part. He's a mermaid who ran away from home. The Watchers are a group who protect mermaid pods but have very strict rules and archaic views; such as there is no such thing as love and have arranged a marriage for Grian he doesn't want (The Watchers in this au are less Mega Evil and more Parents Who Don't Understand and Kind Of Suck). He runs away to prove love exists. In doing so, getting into a major fight with his sister.

Grian gets caught in a storm and washes up into the pool of the beach resort, where Jimmy and Joel find him. They are SUPER cautious at first, but immediately offer to help him find true love when Grian tells them that helping a mermaid grants them a wish. They're hoping to use the wish to make it so Joel's family doesn't move away.

Grian is a bit oblivious to the human world, but even more so to the concept of love, because it is not common in the mer world. This leads Grian to believe anyone can love you with a bat of an eyelash, which leads him to try to woo the first interesting person who catches his eyes; aka Scar. When it doesn't immediately work, he's actually quite pissed off and thinks its Scar's fault for not falling in love with him. Jimmy and Joel proceed to make a plan to match the two together because Scar is so nice and probably the only person willing to give this weird and off putting mermaid a chance.

Unlike the movie, which takes place over a couple days, this au takes place over the course of a month or two, so there is even more chemistry between the cast. Hijinks and cringey romcom shenanigans ensue.

The ending is very different from the movie (im still thinking about it i dont have a lot for this au please go watch Aquamarine tho its my childhood and i love it)

uhhhhh IDK WHO IS GOOD FOR A CECILLIA CHARACTER. ok in the movie theres a character named cecillia shes the typical mean girl trying to stop the main characters from getting together. i wanna put someone in this role bc shes iconic and has funny moments im inspired by but im having a hard time thinking of someone who fits the role. any ideas for this or any thoughts at all are welcome, this au is for fun!!!

#trafficblr #trafficshipping #bad boys #desert duo #scarian #desert duo au #my art #the aquamarine dd au #please this au has been on my mind for a couple days #this is so niche lmao #and YES everyones designs are inconsistent idk how to draw idk how to draw

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searchingforserendipity25 · 5 months ago

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exorcising my list of unwritten conclave concepts from a few weeks ago i haven't written much since, in case the list is all there ends up coming out of it or anyone wants to welcome any of them into a good home:

cardinal lawrence and sister agnes won each other’s respect and trust during ratzinger’s papacy (liberals who leak church scandals to the justice system and the press stick together). everyone lowkey thinks they are having an affair. they are not, but they do keep sneaking into corners to gossip during the conclave. leaning fully into the reading of sister agnes as the late pope’s intelligence expert. incredibly jaded vatican spy. aldo is not jealous. benitez finds lawrence with the yellow canary eating from his hand and going back to his side after short flights, and has a number of franciscan emotions about it. the whole thing would ideally be about their friendship, different views and thoughts on power, what it looks like, what it ought to look like. responsibility, and doubt. also: how horrible it is the only non smokers in an european workplace.

(does this change anything materially? possibly the adeyemi and trembley situation is revealed much sooner with lawrence and sister agnes working together earlier and sharing intel, which in its turn makes him seem more competent and aggressive in taking down competitors, ergo more votes, ergo more influence? maybe bellini supports him more overtly earlier idk.)

cardinal lawrence is dead. as a matter of fact, cardinal lawrence has been dead for a few days after the pope dies; unlike the pope, he keeps coming back to do his job. the curia covers up his death, because the dean of the college of cardinals is a ghost who apparently hated his job enough that is it his very literal purgatory is both hard to explain, and bad for the press. the fate of his unliving soul is very much at risk when steering the conclave, which is, uh, fun. cardinal tedesco's vape smoke now strongly smells of sulfur to him, which is probably not satanic in origin but then again might be. people keep voting on him and their belief in him corresponds directly to how much he can interact with the world, which is a very straightforward way to test one’s moral limits and otherwise a great torment. the one silver lining is that he can walk through walls and scoop out corrupt dealing easily, and no one can really tell he is dead. well, barely anyone. cardinal benítez and his ability to walk easily between the liminal spaces and certainties of the world is an outlier, and should not be counted.

dean lawrence keeps getting kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. this is an unfortunate if occasional part of being the vatican’s manager of two increasingly liberal and unorthodox papacies. it is considerably less fine and unfortunately far too normal for innocent xiv, who has a non-zero number of experiences with friends being kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened.

bellini/lawrence full on established relationship nonsense. as in, they have been together for thirty years and counting. conclave rewrite??

innocent xiv’s phone messages get leaked. innocent xiv’s phone messages consist of selfies with turtles sent to various friends and family, a good deal of memes in the santa marta groupchat, and daily jokes, complaints and affectionate messages to dean lawrence. the media has thoughts. aldo bellini, newly in charge of the papal media strategy, also has thoughts. and prayers.

a glimpse at all the people that Did vote for benítez from the start, and how much his work is or is not known outside the hermetic sphere of the vatican. he's kind of famous in religious activist circle probably! he has fans! he has a wide network of people he regularly approaches for information, resources, mutual aid and donations to his clinics and dioceses! he keeps dropping insane facts about horrifying personal experiences with unnerving serenity!

vincent benítez soft doms cardinal lawrence into taking a rest during the conclave. this incidents turns into a habit and gains new dimensions, as per the forthcoming changes in job status

pope john has an ongoing crisis of faith and also a gigantic imposter's syndrome. unrelatedly, pope john would really really really rather vincent benítez did not die in kabul and/or cause a diplomatic disaster. how convenient, then, that he is now a benevolent religious dictator who can arrange (read: wholesale invent) a number of postings and duties only benítez can accomplish. if anyone ask, this is a long-delayed move on part o the church to develop a deeper connection to on-the-ground aid organization. this can’t possibly last forever, though, can it?

friar lawrence has shed all politics and chosen an abbey who keeps a vow of silence. friar lawrence is genuinely having a lovely time of things in his little abbey post canon. for like, uh, two months? friar lawrence keeps accidentally gaining more and more influence. manager-guy who cannot not manage. six months in he’s in charge of shelters and social associations. one year on, and he’d be archbishop again, if he were not aggressively trying to clamber down the church hierarchical rung. his friend, innocent xiv, who went from being a non-entity to one of the most famous men in the world, is sympathetic but also thinks this is very very funny. epistolary fic?? email epistolary? there is a little cat in a friar's habit and this is the most important part.

possibly related: cardinal lawrence comes back from his enforced sabbatical in a peaceful retreat freckled, healthier and smiling. people have thoughts on this, and emotions also.

turtle pov of benitez/lawrence. literally: turtle pov. is the turtle an angel?? unclear if the turtle is an angel.

cardinal tedesco must die au.

#thomas lawrence #vincent benitez #conclave spoilers #conclave #a post on lawrence being dead and in purgatory flickered on my dash before disappearing and i NEED to find it #whoever wrote it is living in my brain namely my brain two weeks ago when i tried to draft it. i am so thrilled that i'm not the only one #who thinks his haunted vibes and alma penada swag is so suited to a purgatory concept #also i desperately need more sister agnes #aldo bellini #sister agnes #conclave au #lawrence x benitez #lawrenitez

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theroundbartable · 1 year ago

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Love the headcanon that magic is legal in Queen Annis' kingdom.

One day, Arthur is invited, but he doesn't KNOW magic is legal there, so he obviously freaks out at first.

Arthur: aren't your crime rates skyrocketing when magic is legal?

Annis: *laughing* what? No. When magic is legal, it's not a crime that people commit, so it's much less, silly boy.

Arthur: but ... Doesn't it do harm?

Annis: more good than harm. Killing people is still illegal, so is theft. But you can't steal magic and when you have magic, it's unlikely for your crops to go bad, so people don't starve, which means less people get jealous or vengeful. The harm with magic is of course worse, but the protection is also more effective and crimes done BY magic get punished worse. So... We're regulating it kinda well.

Arthur is, needless to say... Amazed.

Not as amazed, however, as Merlin is. Merlin looks like he's absolutely thriving. Arthur has never seen Merlin smile as much or be as relaxed and he kind of looks like he belongs here. He seems to have a good sense for the quality of magical objects, seems to enjoy people using it for fun and entertainment.

And Arthur... Arthur's not sure what to do with that. He hates it, but...

Arthur: Merlin... I would understand if you wished to stay here. You seem... Happier than you do at home

Merlin: *laughs*, *realises Arthur is serious* i'm not going to leave you

Arthur: but you like it here! You... I've never seen you like this! You belong here! You just -

Merlin: I belong at your side. I just... Admire their lifestyle

Arthur: they are using magic.

Merlin: I know

Arthur: ... If... If magic were legal in camelot, would that make you happy?

Merlin: *freezes*

Arthur: I never thought it could be this peaceful. I feel like if it were legal... Things would change for the better. And you seem to have a good sense for these magic things, so maybe you could help me establish- holy shit, you're on fire

Merlin: *magic burst into literal flames*

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #arthur #concept #queen annis #Magic

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homoquartz · 2 months ago

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the brills/aces/mint summary

i might have missed a few instances of each word because i was running through at 1.5x speed and skipping scenes charles wasn't in, but this should be a good enough sample size

mint

mint is the easiest one. it seems to only be applied to objects - crystal's face and the snake-slaying sword. likely he would not use "mint" to describe a situation the way he would brills or aces, more to express approval with the look or quality of something/someone. "mint" as in "mint condition."

brills

this is the catch-all phrase that seems, more or less, to mean "really cool" or to describe a good turn of events. it doesn't seem to be used much to describe the quality of a thing (eg, people aren't usually described as "brills")

examples of "really cool" usage:

"That ferry ride was really brills."

"The view is pretty brills."

This word summarized his feelings on kissing Crystal

"I think we look brills!"

He used this word to express amazement at Edwin walking through a wall when they first met

examples of describing a good turn of events:

"Sounds like a demon. That's brills. We've dealt with demonic possession before."

He replied with this word when Edwin said they were on track to find out how to deal with Niko's sprites

Upon hearing that Jenny could inform them about the Devlin house, he said, "That's brills. I'll come with."

In response to the Night Nurse becoming their minder, he declared, "Edwin, this is brills!"

aces

unlike brills, "aces" IS often applied to people. it's used to emphasize something positive about them. sometimes used to tell someone they've done a deft job. there is only one exception, which can probably be chalked up to having multiple writers. "aces" as in "A+" - the best of

examples of describing someone's great quality:

"Saved my neck, didn't you? Totally aces."

"Any pal of Edwin's is aces in my book."

"Well, I'm aces with other people."

He also uses this word to dismiss concerns about his wellbeing. He's not only ok or fine, he's "aces."

When Crystal confirmed with her powers that Esther's house is where Becky lost her shoes, he says, "Aces. Let's take a quick sneak peek."

he also uses it once to express how clever he and edwin are:

When Crystal first asked about their agency name, Dead Boy Detectives, he said, "It's aces, right? We're ghosts and we solve mysteries."

There is one odd instance of Charles using "aces" irregularly:

When he called Tragic Mick's shop "totally aces." Going off of the pattern, he likely would have said "brills" here instead.

additional superlatives

charles isn't limited to these three phrases to describe things he approves of. throughout the show, he also uses good, great, cool, nice, and amazing.

disclaimer: this was done for fun and by no means a hard and fast rule book for writing charles dialogue

#dead boy detectives

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blackenedsnow · 7 months ago

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art the clown, jason voorhees, thomas hewitt, tiffany valentine and otis driftwood with a goth s/o? :D

slashers with a goth s/o ; headcanons

WARNING:

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Goth! Reader, Jason Voorhees x Goth! Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Goth! Reader, Tiffany Valentine x Goth! Reader, Otis Driftwood x Goth! Reader

NOTE: I love this so much!! As a goth, this was so much fun to write AAHH!! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did :D

ART THE CLOWN

Art is non-verbal, but he’s an excellent mimic.

He’ll listen to music with you and try to “dance along” in his creepy, mime-like way.

Bauhaus? Siouxsie? Whatever. He’s all in.

Art adores your aesthetic.

He’s already a fan of theatrics and over-the-top looks, so he sees your style as an extension of his own love for the dramatic.

If anyone mocks your look, they won’t live to regret it.

Art sees your style as sacred, and he’ll take special care to make sure the offender’s end is particularly theatrical.

He loves how you’re both “outsiders,”

Your style reminds him of the things he loves! Dead things.

But unlike his usual grim interests, you’re warm, alive, and you notice him.

That fascinates him endlessly.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason is shy and hesitant at first.

Your aesthetic catches him off guard—he doesn’t meet many people, let alone anyone with such a striking style.

But once he warms up, he loves it.

The music you play around him, especially softer tracks, is incredibly soothing to his mind.

Bands like The Cure become his favorite.

Pamela is… skeptical of you at first.

She's worried your dark aesthetic would be a bad influence on her boy.

But after seeing how kind and patient you are with Jason, she approved. (You also keep her son calm, so she can’t argue with the results.)

Jason is protective to an extreme degree.

If anyone dares to insult you or your style, he’ll make sure they never bother you again.

Let’s just say Camp Crystal Lake has one more “missing camper.”

He loves sitting quietly with you, watching you do your makeup or put together an outfit.

He doesn’t understand it fully but finds it fascinating and comforting to watch.

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas was unsure about you at first.

Your style stood out so much in the rural Texas environment, and it took him a while to understand it.

But once he did, he couldn’t get enough of how unique and beautiful you were.

His family, on the other hand, was… less accepting.

Hoyt made plenty of snide comments at first, and Luda Mae worried about how “different” you seemed.

But after they saw how happy you made Thomas, their attitudes softened.

Thomas loves how confident you are in your look.

It inspires him, especially since he’s always struggled with his own appearance.

Your music is a huge comfort to him.

It helps drown out the chaos of his life.

He especially loves slower, atmospheric songs—anything that lets him close his eyes and relax after a long day.

TIFFANY VALENTINE

Tiffany's goth herself, so having a partner who shares her love of dark fashion and culture is a dream come true.

You two are the ultimate spooky power couple.

She’ll raid your wardrobe and lend you her own pieces.

Date nights often involve matching outfits!!

Tiffany doesn’t care what anyone thinks about your relationship or your style.

If someone dares to insult either of you, she’ll handle it—usually in a very violent, very Tiff way.

She’s incredibly affectionate and constantly showers you with compliments.

She loves how unapologetically you express yourself and always reminds you that you’re stunning, no matter what anyone says.

OTIS DRIFTWOOD

Otis was initially surprised by your aesthetic but quickly grew to appreciate it.

He’s always been drawn to people who stand out.

The Firefly family, on the other hand, took some time to adjust.

Baby loved your look and immediately bonded with you over fashion tips.

While Mama is suspicious of your “big city ways.”

Otis doesn’t care—he likes what he likes.

He’ll mock you playfully at first, calling you things like “Dracula” or “Morticia,” but deep down, he admires how unapologetically you embrace who you are.

He’s the same way, after all.

Otis is fascinated by your music taste.

He doesn’t fully get it, but he respects it—especially when you introduce him to more aggressive goth or industrial tracks.

He’s a fan of She Wants Revenge after a while, even if he won’t admit it.

He loves your individuality and makes it very clear that anyone who disrespects you disrespects him, too.

#slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fanfiction #art the clown x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #jason voorhees x reader #otis driftwood x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #x reader #ask #fanfic #request #headcanons

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arc-misadventures · 2 months ago

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Birdy Cheer Squad

Jaune: Alright, time for the championship match!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Why do I have to do this?!

Qrow: Because, you won the bet!

Summer: Yes, because you won the bet!

Jaune: Bet, what bet?! We never made any bet?!

Qrow: It was a bet made between me, Summer, and my sister.

Jaune: Involving me in some manner?

Qrow: Yep.

Summer: And, you made sure that we won the bet!

Qrow: Good job out there, Jaune!

Jaune: Less ass kissing, and more explaining! What was this bet?!

Summer: T-The bet was that if you could win the last bout on your own, you would fight in the championship!

Jaune: What kind of bet is that?!

Qrow: And, if Raven couldn't beat either of them she would have to take a forfeit!

Jaune: What forfeit?

Qrow: Uhh... Well, it was one that, Raven would hate.

Summer: But, one you would like!

Jaune: Your answers answer nothing...

Qrow: Just... go out there, and fight the championship bout, and you will see, Raven's forfeit.

Jaune: And, if I don't fight in this championship?

Summer: You don't get to see, Rae-Rae's forfeit, and you will regret it.

Jaune: Haa... Fine! Fine I will fight the championship... Only because of you two, and your horrible mistakes!

Summer: It was his fault with his stupid semblance!

Qrow: Like hell that was my fault! You're the one who's weapon misfired, and shot my foot!

Summer: And, you pulled me out of the ring, getting us both disqualified?!

Qrow: That's only because of your oversized cape!

Summer: It's a cloak, and don't you dare make fun of my cloak?!

Jaune: Haa... Why did, Ozpin make me in charge of this circus troupe...

~~~

Oobaleck: And welcome everyone to this, the championship match for the Vytal festival!

Port: That's right, Bart! This is the final match of the day, between, Beacon Academy's, first year student, the White Knight, Jaune Arc!

Jaune: Why the hell are they calling me a white knight?

Oobaleck: And, Haven Academy's forth year student, The Mad Dog, Gerald Bordaigo!

Jaune: Mad Dog? White Knight is a little bland... but, it ain't as cringe as Mad Dog...

Gerald: Hey, what did you say?!

Jaune: I said your nickname is cringe.

Gerald: You wanna fucking go kid!

Jaune: We're about to have a match so... Yes?

Gerald: Then let's do THISSSS!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Cringe...

Port: Alright then everyone! Let the match... BEGIN!

Jaune: Haa... Okay... let's...

: J-Janue!

Jaune: Huw, Raven what are you...?! What the hell are you wearing?!!

Raven:

Raven: G-GO JAUNE! Y-Y-YOU CAN DO IT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! WINNN!!!

Jaune: Gahh?!

Gerald: (Whistles~!) Damn~! And, that a smoking hot babe~! Hey is she yours blondie? Hey, if I win this I get the lady~! Don't worry, I'll treat her to a nice evening~!

Jaune: The fuck did you just say?!

Gerald: So, what do you say? Do we have a...!?

(Kr-crack!)

PO: OOOOOOHHHHH?!

Gerald: Ahhhhhh.....?!!?!

(Thud!)

Port: I think I speak for all the men here. But, that has gotta hurt!

Oobaleck: Even I flinched from that kick...

Jaune: You better stay the fuck away from my woman! No get up, and prepare for a beat down unlike any other you bastard!

Gerald: ...

Jaune: ...

Gerald: ...

Jaune: ...

(Kick, kick...)

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I think I killed him...

Port: It seems like, Mr. Bordaigo is unable to battle... Mr. Arc wins!

Oobaleck: Someone brings a stretcher for, Mr. Bordaigo... He's going to need it...

Jaune: Wait... I won?

Raven: Good job, Jaune! Come back here, and claim your reward~!

Jaune: Reward...?

Jaune: Can I go! I need to claim my reward! NOW!

~~~

Summer: THat worked...

Qrow: A little too well really...

Summer: Well, I need to get going, Jaune's getting his reward after all~!

Qrow: But, my sister is...?

Summer: I am also his reward! I would have join, Raven in her cheerleader outfit, but I didn't have one so I couldn't join her!

Qrow: O-Okay...

Summer: Good! Now wait for me my loves~!

Qrow: ...

Qrow: Bloody blondes... why does he get all the girls...?

///

Here's another one for you, @lar-mx

Link to ART

#rwby #jaune arc #summer rose #qrow branwen #raven branwen #peter port #bartholomew oobleck #jaune x summer #summer x jaune #raven x jaune #jaune x raven #rwby summerknight #rwby canary

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unpretty · 4 months ago

Note

Kink taxonomy hell makes me a) very glad I am ace & don't have to deal with these problems & b) lowkey thinking about how I'd approach running a porn production company whose entire output is like 15 minute porn shorts based on these asks. I mean, I wouldn't actually want to start a porn production company, because that would require way more start up capital & effort than it would be worth to me personally (see: ace, but also burn out re: small production companies). But, see, I do work in the production industry at a small production company on the non-porn side of things (we make stuff for like Netflix/HBO/Hulu & shit) & often make or consult on budgets, so it's a bit of a fun thought exercise about how to approach it.

Get a core cast you can rotate through for different scenarios (6-10 ppl for cast; though actual # each day might be much lower); ideally have a studio space + production off with edit suite; aim for ~2-3 set ups each day depending on complexity/# of on-screen orgasms (goal for these is short so might not be a full scene/scenario); in-house equipment as much as possible (cameras, lights, but also build up a sex/prop repository that can be resued); two-camera; relatively small crew, -- Director, producer, AP, DP, A/C, sound, gaffer, DIT (can be the AE), safery coordinator, PA x2, HMU+asst, wardrobe + props + art dept float -- so ~16 set crew, plus on the post/in-house side you'll need: editor x2, production accountant, AE (can be the same person as DIT), post super. Plus then unlike the companies I work at you'd want probably a marketing person & web dev.

Schedule would look something like: 3 weeks prep // 2 wks shoot w/ goal of getting material for ~24 shorts // 8 wks edit to get through all material (could start posting scenes finished sooner before all scenes are edited, obvs; this is assuming 3 edit days per 15 min short on average, but it all depends on how complex you want to get with the edit; if it's just 15 minutes of one shot getting played out with a few cut aways, then edit time could get cut down by a lot. But I'm assuming some stuff is going to get more complex edits; it also might work better to have three editors going so that edit time & prep+shoot time are roughly equal)

The issue here is that, ok, start up costs to get gear, etc will always be high, so setting those aside for the moment but overhead costs + staffing costs are going to get pricey. Granted, I don't know what the going rates are for folks either behind or in front of the camera in porn, but I do know the going rates outside of porn & I also know what I think are fair rates for these positions / what I would want to pay people. So imo for a single shoot day, you're looking at well over $10k for labor alone. All in, with what I described, my slapdash back of the envelope math says you're looking at $350,000+ in labor costs for the whole shebang & that's before fringe (je refuse to 1099 everyone; that way lies audits by the irs), equipment, overhead, etc. Easily I can imagine a half million dollar budget here in total.

& I guess that's where I start stalling out, because I know how to set up a shoot, get insurance, have legal buttoned up, but there's so much free porn out there that breaking even, much less monetizing it!, seems even harder than non-porn stuff these days. (& that's a struggle too! A huge part of why I'm burned out.) I mean, even if people like, pay to have their prompt included, folks aren't going to want to pay THAT much to cover costs. I guess aiming for lots of subscription fees on different platforms? But that's a lot of marketing elbow grease & takes time to build up, making starting capital essential. The stuff I'm familar with wrt indie filmmaking -- grants or corporate sponsors -- seem less likely for porn. & sure I could cut corners in my hypothetical budget, find savings, pay people less (ugh), but like, no. Maybe if I actually watched porn I'd know more about how it makes money, but that's a bridge too far.

Anyway, the government should give us all free money to pursue making art, even (especially?) when that art is porn. Or something.

there's nothing i can add to this, really

#original #kink taxonomy hell #very easy to see why the focus is on the most common denominator and not edge cases like us

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months ago

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Maybe there would be less conflict on the server if there wasn’t a faction whose entire life hangs on causing chaos and clip farming.

The admins said it themselves weeks ago- Tango even said it to Pangi directly on stream, the creative kills are meant to be clips. That’s why pvp doesn’t count even though there can be some REALLY creative pvp plays, and even though you can get some really popular clips out of it (see: Pangi killing Tubbo.) It’s also why it’s now against the rules for anyone to give their lives for Red Team like Foolish did, that isn’t ‘exciting’ enough

It’s the same logic that Purgatory was run under: everything had to have the capacity to go viral. Former admins said that the teams were split the way they were to create the most conflict possible, and that seems like what’s going on with the Realm.

A lot of people have started complaining about how much chaos and violence there is on the Realm these days, and they’re also following the Purgatory Way and blaming everything on one specific group of people (Red and Green Teams) rather than acknowledging the flawed server system as a whole.

If Red Team doesn’t get an ‘exciting’ kill, they all die. This is inherently flawed because it forces people into specific actions while ignoring the purpose of the server: personal choice and freedom. The server wasn’t meant for lore! Tubbo said as much before day one, but this was immediately changed as soon as the Red Team was introduced. Now, people joining the server are forced into the Red Team and told they have to kill. Sure, they can not- like Sausage and uh. The majority of Red Team, who haven’t really logged on past day one- but they’re still bullied and attacked by the other characters for the simple crime of being on Red Team. Unlike the other factions, Red Team never got a choice. They aren’t allowed to change teams, and nobody from another team can join their team (except Jack Manifold ig.) They’re all forced into the role of villains with no choice to join, say, Blue or Yellow.

All this has done is created the conflict that people are complaining about. Nobody on Green can show where they live because it’ll be trapped by Ros or Aimsey. Pangi and Pili can’t sit on a roof and talk without being condescended to and accused of wrongdoing. Foolish can’t talk to Pili without being looked down upon by his kingdom.

And then the players who wanted a low-stakes casual server can’t join anymore because everything ties back to ‘Us vs Them’. Slimecicle dipped on day one, probably because he’s done wkth MCRP. How many players stopped logging in once there started being lore and conflict essentially forced upon them by the server’s very rules?

Every time someone on the server has come up with an alternative to the violence and chaos, such as getting people who don’t join to voluntarily get killed by Red Team, it’s shut down by the admins. Meanwhile, there appears to be favoritism towards the server’s ’good guys’, like Ros’ and Tubbo’s protection butterflies or rule changes that only seem to benefit them. While some of those rule changes are because members of Red or Green find out ‘loopholes’, it’s also kind of crazy how every rule change has benefited Yellow and Blue and hurt Green and Red.

Is this favoritism purposeful? Almost absolutely not, but it is convenient for causing conflict. Tensions rise as a result of all these things combined, and it’s all manufactured and really just not fun to watch anymore. Yellow is sick of being ‘targeted’, Blue is sick of Green and Red existing, and Red is sick of having to kill. (Green is just kind of vibing tbh, they’re chaotic and violent even without the killing rule.)

Even if the factions event ends soon, which I hope it does for the sake of the server, the fandom won’t be any less toxic. The conflict will continue in some way because this is what the server has built up as its base for content: conflict. None of it is natural, it’s all manufactured, and it’s all extremely Not Fun.

So don’t get angry at Red for killing and trapping, that’s all they were created to do. And that will never change.

#the realm smp #crit

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azzifuddslover · 7 months ago

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༯ OFF THE COURT — CHAPTER TWO 𝜗𝜚

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: angst, jealousy

tw: swearing (i think that’s all?)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i had fun with this chapter! excited to continue writing 😋 i had to ofc add the lil dijonai & lyss foul haha. also if u have any one shot suggestions please please lemme know! enjoy

“oh my goodness, hi!” nika pulled each one of the freshmen into a warm embrace. “we’re so excited to have you guys here!”

we? paige thought to herself, that she didn’t dare speak out loud.

“we’re excited to be here!” caroline smiled at the three older girls, as aubrey and azzi hugged.

paige purposefully put distant between herself and the curly headed brunette, not wanting to start arguments her first day.

“so, where do you guys wanna see next?” aubrey questioned, while paige remained silent, keeping to herself.

“you tell us,” ashlynn said, excitedly.

“alright,” nika slung her arm around paige’s shoulder, “let’s go show you the dorms then.”

as the seven girls made their way to the dorm rooms, azzi walked behind aubrey who led the way, while nika and paige placed themselves in the back.

“you good, p?” nika whispered, “it’s unlike you to be this quiet.”

paige plastered a smile on her face, “all good, nik.”

“no, seriously, what’s up?”

“i’m fine, really. just tired,” she reassured her close friend, gently squeezing her shoulder.

minutes later the girls arrived at the dorms when nika spoke up.

“i think it’s best to divide into groups so we can still get lunch. aubrey, show caroline and yanna your room, paige show azzi yours and i’ll show ash mine.”

of course nika would place azzi with paige. alone.

“um, i’ll take ashlynn,” paige suggested, but it was too late. ashlynn was already off with nika, aubrey was leading carol and yanna to her dorm.

azzi stood awkwardly in the hallway, eyes focused on the floor, as paige glanced once at her before taking off to her room.

“cmon,” she muttered, passing azzi.

azzi was hesitant to follow, but she did regardless, keeping her head low while nerves twisted in her stomach. azzi couldn’t remember the last time she was alone with paige, if ever. the pair have clearly never gotten along, so she was nervous to see where this would go.

paige opened the door to her dorm, that she shared with another teammate, dorka, who happened to be laying in her bed.

“hey dorka,” paige said, announcing her presence along with azzi’s.

“hey p,” dorka looked at her, then at the freshmen, “who’s this?”

“one of the new freshmen, azzi.”

dorka smiled at azzi in a reassuring manner, then pulled her in for a quick hug. “welcome to uconn, azzi!”

azzi gently hugged the older girl back, feeling less nervous with dorka being there. “happy to be here.”

“you’re going to love it. i’m a transfer, and its absolutely amazing. the girls are all so great, geno can be a bit tough, but he means well,” dorka explained.

azzi was genuinely excited for her start at university of connecticut. she’s always kept uconn as an option for her future school, and finally was able to commit just a few weeks ago. she figured it’d be the best fit for her, despite paige being here.

“well, i told lou i’d meet her in the dining hall, so i’ll catch y’all later,” dorka said, grabbing her bag and phone before quickly leaving.

the silent in the small dorm was haunting. paige’s eyes were focused on her phone, while azzi motionlessly stood against the wall, waiting for any sort of conversation.

“so, do you like it here so far?” paige asked, finally breaking the silence.

azzi looked over at paige, “it’s nice, yeah. the girls seem nice.”

“that’s good,” paige replied.

“are you excited to meet-“

“you don’t have to make small talk, paige. we both know you aren’t happy with me committing here,” azzi bite out.

paige scolded her eyes, “you’re right. i’m not happy with you being here. but i can’t change it, can i?”

“nope, you can’t. let’s just ignore each other like we’ve always have.”

secretly, paige didn’t want to ignore azzi. she couldn’t. but she pretended to did it anyway.

“fine by me,” paige shouted, walking towards the door.

“where are you going? this is literally your room!”

“anywhere else but here, with you. go catch up with nika or something,” paige muttered as she left, leaving azzi staring at the door.

it was the first day of practice with the new additions to the uconn team, and paige successfully avoided azzi at all costs. whenever the team got together, they’d always converse with other players, never daring to look each other’s way.

paige brought the basketball up the court during a 5v5 match. she directed the players on her team to her liking, then passed it to lou who made the open 3 shot. aubrey secured the rebound, threw it off to azzi, who began to bring it to the opposing net. paige, of course, was right on her heels, defending her. azzi noticed the blonde from the corner of her eye, looking unbothered as ever.

reaching the 3 point line with paige right there, azzi considers all the potential lanes to the basket. when nika, part of the opposing team, goes to defend aubrey, azzi sprints through an open lane, going for the layup.

paige was quick to notice her plan, though. she blocked the ball from entering the basket, hitting azzi in the process. it was an obvious foul.

“hey, that’s a foul!” azzi shouted.

paige, who’s grinning to herself, adverted her eyes to the brunette. “no it wasn’t, it was clean.”

“bullshit!”

“you’re just mad you can’t make a shot on me,” paige replied.

“please. like i haven’t done it before!” azzi exclaimed loud enough for heads to turn.

“ladies!” coach auriemma interrupted their argument, “make sure to stay after practice.”

for goodness sake, paige thought to herself.

“this is all your fault,” paige whispered, loud enough for only azzi could hear.

azzi simply rolled her eyes at paige’s remark. she wasn’t going to let the older girl distract her further; she’s already done it enough.

practice quickly came to a close; azzi managed to put distance between herself and paige, not wanting to cause any more trouble than she already had.

each one of the basketball players made their way out of the gym, while azzi and paige anxiously remained, waiting for coach.

his office door opened, “come on in.”

paige took the left chair as azzi took the right, both not saying a word. coach auriemma looked pissed.

“your behaviors is unacceptable. if you both want to help this team succeed, we’ll all need to get along, including you two. especially you guys. you both are two of the best players we have, and i’m going to need y’all to quit it with the bickering and focus on the game. am i clear?”

“yes, coach,” paige and azzi say in unison.

“alright then. with that being said, go out to eat with one another. get to know each other. i don’t know what caused your disliking of each other, but it’s got to change immediately,” geno auriemma instructed the girls.

paige’s eyes widen as azzi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly not pleased with his suggestion. but azzi was new, and she only wanted to please her coach.

“that sounds fine by me,” azzi said, despite her brain saying she’d rather do anything else.

paige stole a glance at the younger girl, before also agreeing.

“good. when tomorrow comes around, i better not hear any arguments. and if i do, the pair of you will face further consequences. am i understood?”

paige nodded her head rapidly, “yes coach.”

“so, where do you wanna go?” azzi questioned the blonde after exiting coach auriemma’s office.

paige rolled her eyes, “we aren’t actually going anywhere together. if you thought that, you’re crazy.”

azzi couldn’t help but be slightly shocked that paige would lie to their coach. “paige, i’m not getting into more trouble just because of you. look, i don’t want to go anywhere with you either, but we have no choice. let’s just get it over with.”

paige absorbed azzi’s words, carefully considering them. “alright, fine,” she sighed, “where too?”

“do you like chick fa la?”

“uh, yeah. who doesn’t? that’s like asking if i breath air.”

after a silent car ride with paige driving and azzi being the passenger princess, the two ordered their meals and sat in an open booth, facing one another.

paige continued not to look azzi in the eye. azzi, however, was harshly glaring at the older girl. “are you going to ignore me forever or actually acknowledge we’re teammates?”

paige finally locked gazes with azzi, “i was planning to ignore you forever.”

azzi couldn’t help but softly chuckle, “of course you were.”

paige lips rose at the sight of azzi’s breathtaking smile, “you make it impossible, though.”

“oh, really? it seems you’ve been doing it pretty damn well for as long as i’ve known you.”

paige didn’t dare to tell her that ignoring azzi is the hardest thing someone could do. it wasn’t just her skills on the court, that could make anyone, including paige, second-guess their game. it was the way azzi carried herself, making everything she did seem effortless, even when it wasn’t. her silent confidence and her ability to make everyone feel included even in a busy crowd. paige hated how much she admired the young girl from afar; how looking at azzi made her forget about everything and everyone around her. it was impossible to ignore a girl like azzi.

instead, paige settled on, “you’re just a pretty good player. i always notice good players.”

after swallowing a bite of a chicken nugget, azzi leaned her elbows on the table, a small smirk lingering on her face. “so now you admit to me being good?”

paige couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her comment regarding USA basketball days. “whatever, whatever.”

azzi laughed to herself, and continued to enjoy her meal, while paige also focused on eating rather than the conversation.

azzi and paige eventually relaxed to each other’s presence, feeling more comfortable than before. they discussed the challenging classes they were taking and geno’s firm coaching methods; the girls began to somewhat enjoy each others company, when a boy around their age walked up to their table.

paige and azzi both looked up at the man, who was directly eyeing the brunette. azzi’s cheeks reddened at the sudden attention.

“can we help you?” paige asked, making the man turn to look at her.

“yeah, uh, i was wondering if i could get your number? you’re, like, really pretty,” the man said to azzi.

her cheeks were basically inflamed at this point, “uh,” she tried to think of the words, “sure, i guess?”

paige scoffed at azzi’s interaction with this random guy. they were finally talking and she had to ruin it. paige clenched her fists and suddenly rose from the table, causing the man and azzi to look at her.

“i’m going to the car,” paige announced, taking off before azzi could get another word out.

after paige’s exit, the boy looked helplessly at azzi, beaming regardless of paige’s reaction. he was pretty cute, but azzi didn’t have the time to focus on anything but basketball and her classes.

“i’m kameron, by the way,” he said.

“i’m azzi, but i gotta go, sorry,” azzi replied, trying to hurry out of there as soon as possible.

“wait, your number—“ but azzi was already out the door.

azzi climbed into the passenger seat, immediately aware that this ride will be even more awkward than the one they previously had.

paige’s grip on the steering wheel caused her knuckles to turn white. when azzi noticed, she softly asked, “are you okay?”

“are you kidding me, azzi? we were finally getting along and you had to ruin it by giving some dude attention. what the actual fuck?”

“it wasn’t my fault he came up to me!” azzi shouted at paige.

“you could’ve said no! but instead you agreed right in front of me!”

azzi gaped at paige, “why do you care who asks me for my number?”

“i don’t!” paige answered defensively, although it was a complete lie.

“what are you, jealous?”

paige’s cheeks tinted at her comment, “don’t be silly, azzi.” she turned on the car and began driving down the road.

arriving back on campus, paige instantly took off without as much as a glance at azzi. after their short argument in the car, paige blasted music to avoid further comments from azzi.

azzi scrolled into her dorm that she shared with caroline, letting out an aggravated sigh.

“you good, girl?” carol asked azzi, with her eyebrows drawn together.

“yeah. coach auriemma made me and paige go out to eat, trying to make us get to know one another. complete bullshit, if you ask me.”

“why don’t y’all like each other, anyway?” carol questioned her friend.

“i don’t know! i have no idea what i did to her. she’s hated me ever since USA basketball,” azzi complained.

caroline looked around in confusion. “wait, so what went down when you guys were out?”

“we were actually talking, without arguing, and a guy came up, asking for my number. paige just got up and left. then in the car, she got all pissing and screamed how i said yes ‘right in front of her,’” azzi made quotations with her fingers.

caroline laughed at azzi’s explanation. “what?” azzi smiled.

“she was jealous!”

although azzi accused paige of being jealous earlier, she didn’t exactly believe it to be true. how could paige be jealous of someone hitting on azzi? she hated her.

“no, trust me, she wasn’t. she was just upset for some reason.”

“oh my god, she’s totally in love with you or something,” carol suggested as azzi turned pink.

“caroline, she’s not. she’s constantly avoiding me and is always mean. does that really should like her liking me?”

carol held out her hands like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “um, yes!”

azzi couldn’t comprehend how caroline got the impression that paige was in love with her. that was beyond crazy. paige’s hatred for azzi has been going strong ever since USA basketball tryouts. there was just no way.

practice the next day was going smoothly; paige and azzi didn’t interact much, like the usual, which didn’t cause geno to enable further consequences for the young girls. azzi was showing off her 3 point shooting skills, while paige continued to be an assist machine.

it was time for another 5v5, and of course paige and azzi were on opposing teams. azzi drained 3 after 3, getting impressive looks from her teammates as well as the two coaches.

a long rebound ended up near the 3 point line, to which azzi managed to secure it. however, she didn’t see the older blonde who was also going for the rebound right behind her. paige crashed into azzi, knocking her to the floor face first. paige maintained her standing position, with each one of her legs around azzi’s torso.

without thinking, paige reached down to place both hands on azzi’s hips, gently pulling her up. azzi’s ass was flush against paige’s front, sending unwelcome feelings throughout the blonde’s body.

there’s a brief moment of awkward silence, azzi still slightly disoriented from the fall. paige’s hands lingered on azzi’s hips a second too long, not that azzi made any hint to move them. she can feel the older girls hands on her body, steady and warm, making her heart skip a beat in her chest.

“you good?” paige whispered, practically in the curly brunette’s ear, given the distance between the girls.

“yeah, thanks,” azzi replied breathlessly, trying desperately to hide the flush creeping up her neck.

after noticing her lingering hands on the hips of azzi, paige removes them acting as calm as possible. paige notices a shift in tone and smirks, teasing the younger girl, “didn’t think i hit you that hard.”

azzi responds with a snark of her own, “i’m not fragile, you know,” attempting to look tougher than she truly is.

paige’s smirk widens as she allows her eyes to take in the sight of azzi. messy bun, leg sleeve, practice jersey slightly ruffled. she looked good.

“like what you see?” azzi commented on paige’s wandering eyes.

embarrassed, paige looks away, “you wish.”

azzi softly chuckles as the freshmen makes her way over to caroline and yanna, ready to continue the 5v5.

in a dais, paige stands motionless in the spot of her and azzi’s interaction, silently wishing she could have one more excuse to talk to her.

but the older girl didn’t, so she walked back into position, ready for the next play to come.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige x azzi #fanfic #nika muhl #uconn huskies #basketball #uconn wbb #enemies to lovers

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ambrosiagourmet · 1 year ago

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Rin Masterpost

Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)

I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.

If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!

Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting

History and Timeline:

We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.

Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.

Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."

Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.

I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.

That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.

Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.

Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.

Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:

So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.

As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.

(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)

Okay, back to Rin's parents.

Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.

And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:

Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.

It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.

The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.

We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:

Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.

She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an apothecary.

Additional Details (& Speculation):

What does she remember of her family and home?

I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.

For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.

Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.

Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:

As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.

Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.

I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.

Rin's Magic

In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.

Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.

In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:

This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).

Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:

But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...

Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.

Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.

Outfit and Character Design

Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.

First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.

I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.

It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.

Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36

This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.

What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:

She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.

So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.

I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.

I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.

I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:

Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.

Rin and Kabru

I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.

I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.

This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?

Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.

Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.

As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.

A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."

Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.

And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?

I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.

Miscellaneous Tidbits:

On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.

Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed

Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.

Her design contrasts with Marcille

This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.

Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.

Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)

Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.

Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.

Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.

If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.

Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #rinsha fana #rin dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi analysis #thank u to anyone who takes the time to read this ♥️♥️♥️ I love rin and lot

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