#i feel like this analysis could be at least ten times longer there is so much to say about this. i. just don't really know how to say it

[transmascutena]

i think it's so interesting that in several adaptations of the story (the movie, the movie manga and in after the revolution) akio is a painter, while in the show he does photography. both are visual media that he uses to capture his victims and his abuse of them (anthy in the paintings, touga and saionji in the photos). i've talked about photographs in relation to memory (and eternity) before, and i suppose the paintings are a similar but more abstract version of that. photos are of course not an objective or unbiased portrayal of reality, they are influenced by the framing of the person behind the camera, just like a piece of art is crated and shaped by the artist, but there is nonetheless the illusion that one is more real than the other. the symbolism of akio as director and cameraman is present all throughout the story in his subtle framing of the narrative, and it's interesting to extend that perspective to the paintings. a more abstract (and obfuscated) but no less real look into his abuse. no wonder they're all of anthy then.

and of course i can't help but also think about the parallel of akio being cut out of the photograph with utena and anthy holding hands in the show, and the painting of anthy in after the revolution turning into one of her and utena together.

[loriahlikeswriting]

Hi! I recently started writing fanfic again. With Hazbin Hotel finally getting a season I was really inspired to dabble into writing something pertaining to Angel Dust, and so I really got hooked on the idea of a human alternate universe taking place in modern times following not only Angel’s struggles but Alastor’s as well! It’s really just a character analysis and me trying to write different characters (one being kinda loony) but regardless I put a lot of effort into each chapter and would love to get feedback! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

I’ve also drawn some pictures of all the characters here and will post some art I have made pertaining to this fic.

I’ll attach a link to ao3 story after the summary and snippet of the first chapter <3 thank you so much for taking your time to read this post and I hope you enjoy!

Am I Making You Feel Sick?

TW: abuse and violence, disordered eating, death, abuse of a minor, SA

Summary:

Anthony Di'Angelo wasn't always like this, he had dreams like any other kid. Yet here he was at the ripe age of twenty, a crack whore with a shitty ass pimp and an even shittier means of living. As far as anyone was concerned this life would consume him and leave him to rot on the streets like many of those before him. His decline is ever apparent, especially to his next door neighbor who just happens to be a novelist from New Orleans who after many successes has begun to lose his spark. A wannabe lyricist who is damned to live life as a whore stuck in poverty and a twisted writer aren't quite a match made in Heaven but maybe the heavens weren't meant for them anyway.

Chapter 1 Snippet 🫶

Anthony’s life wasn’t really one worth living if he was being honest. He had a lousy apartment, lousy job, lousy friends, lousy attitude- he himself was simply lousy. Recognizing just how miserable he was did little to change anything, though, so he kept going with some weird faith that things may somehow, some way get better. Between being disowned by his family only to be taken in by a pimp disguised as a lover he wasn’t sure what else could possibly go astray.

He’d lost another ten pounds, which meant another size or two down, and another shopping spree which would soon enough result in spending funds he really didn't have right now. Maybe he shoulda picked up sewing like Molly- that perfect little angel- just so he wouldn’t have to waste time getting shit retailored. Staring at what became of himself in the mirror was fucking trippy. What stared back at him were large muted blue eyes smudged by smeared eyeliner and mascara, sunken in freckled cheeks, pale skin which was once sunkissed now tainted by bruises, a thin frame no longer toned and instead starved. Mobster to crack whore- what kinda transformation was that? A laughable one. Damn, if only Pa could see him now. Naw, Anthony didn’t wanna imagine it if he was being real honest.

Pulling off the slightly loose sticky latex one piece, the blonde reached over into his dresser for a tattered old tee he managed to convince Val to let him keep. He had to let Valentino know if he could wipe his ass for fuck's sake, God forbid he had a shirt the man didn't fuck with. Sliding on the shirt and some boxers which loosely fit his frame, Anthony quickly flung himself into bed. His mattress was stiff and his blankets were thin, but at least he managed to get a place to call his own. Moving out of Valentino’s was such a step forward- no more nightly beatings, no more degrading insults outside of work, no more being used and abused whenever wherever. Sure, he dealt with allat on the clock but the minute his shift ended he had somewhere to return to that was his own. He hadn’t had something to call his own in a long fucking time.

Staring up at his ceiling, Anthony couldn’t help but toss and turn, his head pounding and begging for attention. The boy was a mouthy one, and mouthy ones get put in their place real quick. Today was extra humbling for the blonde, his eye was puffed up and colored purple, a testament to his treatment. It wasn’t just his eye, he’d gotten a full body beat down today, but that meant he could stay out of work for a day or two til they gradually lost their color. Two days of lazing about? Fuck yes. He could really use the break.

Huffing, the thin blonde shoved his blanket aside as he stumbled onto his feet. Grabbing his lighter and a pack he kept ready at his night stand, Anthony made his way to his small balcony. The crisp air burned the blonde’s nostrils, a sensation he'd learned to adore as time went on. Shivering, he made his way over to the iron rails. He was hardly dressed, but that was something he was used to. Shutting his eyes, the blonde let himself feel the night’s frigidity, wanting to succumb to the numbness which would eventually overtake his limbs.

Lighting his cig, the boy scanned the night sky for some type of reassurance when the cold hadn’t done its job. Disappointed, the blonde knew the stars couldn’t give him any answers no matter how much he bothered them. So he pressed his lit cigarette to his lips, breathing in a burn which would warm his rotting core. The first huff wasn’t satisfying, nor was the second. Anthony was used to more nasty shit, nic did little to ease his mind. Well, it did help with the headaches, but the dancer was itching for something stronger tonight. Flashes of his last client wormed its way into his skull and Anthony could feel his shoulders tighten in anger and resentment. Clenching his jaw, the blonde rubbed at his eyes aggressively wincing in pain once he was reminded of the bruise that bitch left behind. That motherfucker was extra sleazy on the floor and in private, and he was a recurring patron. Lucky him, huh?

Frustrated, the man put forth all his weight onto the railing, letting his forehead rest against the cold metal, hoping some contact would relieve the pressure. Rubbing his forehead against the bar, Anthony felt his eyes burn familiarly. A pain settled in his throat, an achy pain that continued to increase in strength. His face burned in shame as he felt himself begin to sniffle. Ah God, he hated these types of nights. Everything was just too fucking much and he was just so tired and in so much pain. Whiny bitch he was, but at least he was a whiny bitch by his lonesome.

“God, I can't do this shit sober.” The blonde huffed, as he finished up his cigarette. Putting out the cigarette onto a used up ashtray, Anthony pushed himself off the railing. He just got through his last bottle of booze and he was aching for more. What? Cheap shit was all he could afford when he was away from Val. Matter of fact, Tony came to crave that shit simply because it signified he wasn't anywhere near that fucking cunt. He promised himself he wouldn’t spend any more pocket change on shit that was bad for him, but that obviously wasn’t going great. Nothing was ever going great, so drink til he got crunked was what he was gonna do. Slipping on some fuzzy light pink slippers and grabbing a coat, Anthony wrapped himself up real tight. Rummaging through his nightstand did he find his house key, some change, and his ID. Aw fuck, he had to get that shit updated. Staring back at him was his wide eyed seventeen year old self. If only he knew there wasn't anything in life to look that excited for. Smiling slightly at the picture of himself, Anthony shoved all that shit into his right pocket, shaking any longing that started to yank at his heart strings. He'd cry after he got fucked up.

Shutting his door and quickly locking up, the lithe dancer shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. His apartment complex was nice, not necessarily cozy but livable. Making his way down the stairs Anthony lost himself in thought. Nights like this he reminisced on back to when he didn’t rely on substances to feel warm, before he was labeled a deadman by his father, before his mother died. He thought back to sibling banter, Sundays post church, elementary school playgrounds. The blonde could feel himself getting choked up again, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling. If the man was being honest, dysthymia was such a comfort. Being sad was all Anthony knew how to do properly, and that in itself reassured him. The tightness of muscles when he was on the brink of a meltdown felt akin to the ghost of a hug, something the man was desperate for. Funny thing was, he got hugs all the time- none of them were fucking genuine though.

Making his way down the staircase, the boy felt a bit of his mind dwindle with every step. His mind was going numb, instead he focused on his breathing and the way his bones felt like they were being suffocated under his skin. He focused on the way his hips ached, and his eye burned, barely able to keep itself open because of how swollen it'd grown to be. He could feel every spot that man touched him, like his finger tips were pressed so deeply into his skin they left a mark not just on skin, nor fat, nor muscle, but on his fucking nerves. He could see the way the man looked at him in a disgusting lustful haze, and how he had to pretend he liked every second of getting his ass handed to him. He saw himself, and he saw himself drowning deeper into the pit he had created for himself the second he got disowned. He could feel just how much it hurt to breathe, so Anthony forced himself to gasp heavily like a fish out of water. The sting was nice, he wished that was all he could feel for forever. His body on autopilot, the dancer was met with a light which dimly lit up the corner store before he knew it. Cheap liquor? Not his favorite, but it did the trick. It made his brain fill with static. And static was all he wanted to hear and see for the rest of his shitty life.

[loveotomization]

For the past 10 years of my life as a Mikan enjoyer, I've been daydreaming about writing a series of essays examining Mikan's fall scenes through a lens of both satire and in-universe character motivation. Finally got off my butt and did it.

Presenting:

Mikan vs. Fanservice

Part 1: A Doyalist look at satire of fanservice in SDR2

(warning: contains images of anime girls in skimpy clothes)

This is a part of my larger Mikan fansite, Sad Nurse.

Essay can also be read under the cut!

(Please don't go picking a fight with me over cartoon people. I'm old and tired. I probably won't respond.)

I’d like to start off by saying that analysis will deal almost exclusively with Mikan’s portrayal in the SDR2 game, rather than the DR3 anime or any manga adaptation. Being a different medium, and produced a few years after the game, I believe that the writing and art could at times have different intentions than the games.

I personally find the writing choices for Mikan’s character absolutely fascinating, to the point that it invites both Doyalist and Watsonian exploration of what makes her function.  (simply put, Kodaka’s writing and Mikan’s in-universe motivations work in concert, rather than at odds)

I’m writing this series of essays in response to the constant, not to mention surprising, confusion I’ve seen surrounding Mikan’s character over the past ten years. Mikan is a very unique character, and her motivations are difficult to find perfectly mirrored in another existing character (not to say that I have consumed every piece of media ever, but I have yet to run across another character like her). Either way, I’m hoping to challenge some incorrect views or at the very least have the chance to say my piece after so many years.

Now, of course, I am not Kodaka nor have I met him personally. I have, however, been in the fandom for longer than the average DR fan, not to mention being somewhat older, so I may have different experiences with media than some other fans.  

Now that I have all of that out of way, I’d like to begin with what I personally believe was Kodaka’s primary intention in creating the scenes where Mikan falls over-

Satire.

Dictionary.com defines satire as:

‘The use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues.’

So just what is the ‘stupidity or vice’ that Kodaka is satirizing?

Fanservice.

(and perhaps the dojikko archetype, but we’ll visit that in another article)

I feel as if the term fanservice has become skewed as of late, as terms often do with passing decades. Back in the early days of English-speaking online anime fandom, fanservice was most often used to mean a scene or piece of artwork that was literally intended to be sexually appealing to the (usually straight male) viewer. At the same time, these scenes would do nothing to further the plot or add to the characterization of the woman in the scene.

These are images of Faye from Cowboy Bebop. I choose her because she exists in a sci-fi action canon that contains a well-written story and characters, as opposed to a pure fanservice series that is only created to showcase women’s bodies for an assumed male gaze.

While it can be argued that the way Faye dresses can make a statement about her personality, it is also clear to the viewer that her outfit is intended to be sexy not just in-universe, but for the viewer as well.

Let’s consider these pictures.

Faye’s top leaves little to the imagination, showing much of her cleavage, which is of course something that many female-attracted people find to be a turn on. You’ll also notice that her booty shorts are unzipped in front, inches from her privates. While I am neutral on the topic of fanservice, characterization and story-wise, there is no reason for the creators to dress her this revealing other than for viewers' pleasure. The adjustments to her costume in the live action prove that she can still be a strong and attractive woman without letting it all hang out.

The same goes for her cocktail dress. There is no vital in-universe need for jiggle physics.

(Disclaimer: This is not a critique of Cowboy Bebop. I think it’s a brilliant show. These images are here solely to juxtapose true fanservice with Mikan’s suggestive pose scenes)

Now, let’s take a look at some characters you’re more familiar with. These are from a collab with a mobile game called Sengoku… something. I’ve never heard of it, and I’m not sure what the actual characters from it look like. That said, let’s look at Mikan and Chiaki in these images.

These images are stand-alone, rather than being scenes from DR canon. In that case, they say nothing about the personality of characters in question, or the story they are from. These images serve no other purpose than to titillate the viewer. The outfits are clearly drawn in ways specifically to highlight their chests and other areas.

So what does this have to do with Mikan’s scenes in SDR2?

I firmly believe that Kodaka is doing three things with the following scenes: satirizing fanservice, satirizing the dojikko character type, and showing quite a bit of Mikan’s character at the same time. I find this pretty clever writing, and the reason I felt compelled to write this series of essays. We know that Kodaka likes satire and parody. Please just take a look at the entire DR series. Even the major themes underlying the games as a whole, such as reality TV culture and the pressures placed on Japanese youth, are largely satire. So why wouldn't smaller moments of satire be present in these same games as well?

These are the scenes in which Mikan falls over on purpose in order to diffuse tense moments, and shift the focus back onto herself by using her sexuality (I’ll go into this topic in depth at another time). As I said, these scenes show us a great deal about the personality of the character, making them immediately more valuable than simple fanservice scenes.

Take a look at her pose, and how she is dressed. Compare it to the ninja costumes above. They show quite a bit of skin, and the poses highlight their breasts and thighs.

In SDR2, Mikan is fully clothed in a reasonably well covering outfit (I once saw someone on Tumblr say that her skirt was drawn too short, and sometimes I feel like we’re one step away from visible ankles becoming scandalous again lol). Her chest is covered. There is the tiniest little peep of plain white panties in one of these images, but that’s about it. I can assure you that these scenes are not very sexy to the average female-attracted person. They are over the top, and clearly present a parody of the sort of scene truly meant to be sexy. Now, of course, literally anything can be a turn on to someone out there, but I’m talking about on average, of course.

Does this mean that Kodaka is against fanservice? I’m sure that’s not the case. However, it is possible to satirize things that you enjoy as well. In fact, I encourage creatives to critique tropes that they personally enjoy. I personally think that it’s a good way to challenge your own point of view and to not take yourself too seriously.

Satire can be shocking, or bring on feelings of discomfort. It is not always intended to be funny. Spending ten years of my life in the DR fandom, it’s always been strange to me that depictions of sexuality--even when they show very little or are used to further characterization--are more shocking to the general viewer base than the actual murders themselves, but that is likely a larger discussion for another day. Back to my point however, is that even if you do feel disgust or discomfort at Mikan’s scenes, they do elicit an emotion in the viewer, which is a large part of the point of art in the first place. In short, you have every right to feel discomfort at these scenes, but I do think that understanding the meaning and value behind them can help deepen enjoyment of the game, or at the very least of Mikan’s character.

Upcoming- A look at the dojikko archetype, followed by a Watsonian look into Mikan’s own motivations in the conscious use of her sexuality.

[veliseraptor]

just for grins was looking at this juxtaposition of additional tags in my bookmarks (left) versus my own works (right) and like. clearly there’s a lot of overlap here just in terms of them being shuffled around. (if I like a fic I will almost always bookmark it, so this makes a good approximation of my reading habits)

observations of interest to me specifically but perhaps nobody else:

dubious consent - on bookmarks but not my own fic! this actually sort of surprises me (some similar feelings about the specific inclusion of “torture” on the bookmarks but not works. nice to know I’m not that predictable a writer!)

entertained by the fact that I’ve bookmarked more hurt/comfort than I’ve written mostly because I know why that’s the case and it’s because about half of my fics that maybe could qualify aren’t tagged hurt/comfort specifically because they’re lacking in what felt like sufficient comfort to count.

so “established relationship” is 100% on there because of Remember This Cold, which makes up 28 of those 54 fics all by its lonesome

also a little surprised by “canon compliant” making it on my bookmarks considering that it sort of feels like 90% of what I read is canon divergence fix-its, but maybe that’s perception and not reality

“grief/mourning” on both, love to see it

as far as things I apparently write but read less of...pre-canon stuff, apparently? would not have guessed that at all. I don’t think of myself as someone who is typically drawn to pre-canon things. but I suppose sometimes that plays into the canon divergence thing - though in general I think of myself as preferring to diverge somewhere within canon than before it even begins? interesting interesting. possible notable that when I narrow the parameters to works just under the “Lise” pseud (i.e. more recent), that tag no longer makes the list. wondering how much of the pre-canon tagged works are Supernatural.

speaking of the Lise pseud’s additional tags list specifically - well, for one thing it’s a whole lot hornier. 3/10 sex related tags rather than 1. also interesting to see no sexy tags on the bookmarks list. if I had to guess I’d say that my thor & loki stash of genfic has a lot to do with that. just went to check what happened if I excluded that single relationship and...yeah, there’s a sexy tag in my top ten for the bookmarks again. doing the hard hitting statistical analysis here

smdh “Dark” lise what kind of vague and uninformative tag is that (the answer is, based on pseud filtering, one that I apparently tacked on a bunch of FFN transfer fic, probably because I was feeling too lazy to get more specific on every one of those)

statistically affirming that I write a lot about character deaths that specifically happen in canon. this does not surprise me. however, I am interested in the discrepancy between that number and the number of times I’ve used the Major Character Death AO3 warning, which is 77. this means that I have killed characters that didn’t die in canon on 35 separate occasions. and we’re not talking about me killing characters I don’t like, generally speaking. to be loved by me is to die, at least if you’re a fictional character. if canon doesn’t get to you first I will. or sometimes if canon gets to you first I will also, but differently, several times.

favorite juxtaposition here is on the bookmarks list where it’s “character study” and “torture.” well I guess that’s one way to study a character

post-canon showing up in bookmarks telling on me about my “but i wanna know what happened after everything was supposedly resolved but there’s still a bunch of messy stuff remaining to be dealt with” narrative kink

[thewhitefluffyhat]

Pre-Release Predictions

[This is the first part of a collected liveblog/analysis of Nona the Ninth! See here for the other parts.]

Let’s preface this endeavor with my expectations before I began reading…

Feeling Ambivalent, Bordering On Nervous

For most people, Nona is arriving with sky-high anticipation after an agonizingly long delay. But for me…

Well, the truth is, my pre-ordered copy of Nona actually arrived last Friday (9/16), and I spent the weekend procrastinating on reading it.

The first reason for this is very silly. I feel like I just joined this fandom and am nowhere near catching up on all the analysis! So I’m in a weird place where I wish Nona was delayed longer. As if I could say “wait, no, I’m not ready yet!” (Are any of us ready, really? :P)

But maybe it’s a good thing Nona is coming out now.

After all, my track record for jumping into franchises in-progress has been uh, kind of terrible? I tend to get into fandoms just as the next installment sets the fandom into a tailspin of disappointment, frustration, and ugly discourse between defenders and critics. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, I’ve literally got t-shirts I don’t want to wear anymore because of it.

So it’s entirely unwarranted - I loved GtN and HtN - but I find that I can’t help but brace for disappointment regardless.  

Anyway, the point is, I don’t actually have very high expectations for Nona? I just have my fingers crossed that it clears the low, low bar of not setting this lovely fandom on fire, please. If it does that, I’m out.

The Ten Billion Dollar Soul Question: Who is Nona?

I subscribe to the theory that Nona is Alecto in some form, possibly fused with Gideon in some way. It makes sense with what we last saw of her and Gideon (Alecto reaching for her in the River). And, of course, the book was originally the first act of Alecto the Ninth.

I also subscribe to the theory that Alecto is the Ninth Resurrection Beast, the revenant of Earth and the ten billion souls that died.

Meanwhile, I haven’t actually read the pre-released chapters, but I’ve seen people’s reactions to them. I’ve also read the news about the book, including Muir’s interviews. From these, I’ve gleaned that Nona seems to be a very carefree, loving, and above all, innocent character. She has no sense of shame, no filters on what she should or shouldn’t express.

All of which actually fits very well with the idea of Nona as “Earth.” Of Nona being essentially an anthropomorphization of “Mother Nature” - she’s all-loving, but don’t mess with her when she’s angry!

But these theories might be completely wrong, in which case, I can’t wait to see who she is!

Okay, But ACTUAL Predictions

All in all, my guess is that Nona is unlikely to change many headcanons or theories regarding Gideon or Harrow. Unfortunately this is because I suspect there just won’t be much Gideon and Harrow content in it. At the very least, we last saw Harrow settling in for a long and well-deserved nap in HtN. It would be only fair to give Gideon more time to shine on her own!

[Brief Alecto spoilers: Also, given that the “Alecto excerpt” had Harrow waking up exactly where we saw her last, it’s possible she might not feature in this book at all.]

If that’s the case, I’ll definitely miss Harrow, and Gideon as well if she’s absent. But on the upside, from the pre-released chapters it sounds like we’ll be getting a lot of Cam and Pal. (Cam and Pal as Perfect Lyctors??) And I did quite enjoy “The Mysterious Study of Doctor Sex,” so that should be fun!

And then there’s Pyrrha. We could infer some things about her personality from her brief appearances in HtN, though details were quite scarce. But now, she’ll be playing a larger role, so hopefully we’ll get a much better sense of her character!

I’m also expecting to see at least some of Coronabeth and Judith, though I have no idea what they’ll be up to. (Taking over the Blood of Eden, perhaps?) Oh! And Ianthe, of course. I’ve read some great fics where she has to deal with John being depressed after the end of HtN, so I’m really looking forward to seeing how that goes in canon! Like, of course Ianthe is going to get worse, but in what way? :D

Last of all… this is a series that isn’t shy about killing off its important and beloved characters. So: will all of the aforementioned characters make it out of Nona in one piece? I’m about 50/50 on this.

Nona, of course, has an expiration date from the start. That’s right there in the book’s summary blurb, that Nona is afraid she’ll have to give her body back. By the end of the book, she’ll almost certainly be forced to - which could mean many different things, but all of those ways imply Nona-the-amnesiac will be gone.

If someone else also dies, then my top pick would be Pyrrha. For all their supposed powers, Lyctors have an even worse attrition rate than the House scions!

My second guess would be Cam and Pal. If Muir wants to go for the most painful gut punch, they’ll be the ones to go. Judith just wouldn’t have the same impact, not after she was basically assumed dead at the end of GtN. And the foreshadowing with Corona and Ianthe is that they both have ambitious, far-reaching plots, plots which I doubt will get resolved in Nona.

Really, the only thing that makes me think all these characters might still have a chance is that Nona was originally just the first act of a longer book. Even if these deaths do happen, they might be slated for later on!

And on that ominous note...

Next: Day One >>

[billconrad]

Writing Became Difficult

   I began writing my fifth book (Pushed to The Edge of Existence) with high hopes. The plot was solid, and I had well-established characters. The first 60% jumped onto my screen until I got to the best part of the story. This was the juicy section where I described how the universe worked. I had been thinking about this part for over a year, and after two pages… Blah. Blah? What was blah? Why had the words stopped? I did not have a clue.

   When I have a writing issue, I distract myself for ten minutes and get back to it. This trick did not work, and instead, I punted by taking a thorough analysis into self-editing earlier sections of the book. The next day, I began my writing by self-editing and occasionally writing a sentence or two. My output went from a chapter a week to a few paragraphs a month. It was terrible.

    This lackluster performance lasted for at least two months, and I changed tactics by forcing myself to write an awful paragraph daily. They required lots of self-editing to make any sense. It was evident that I had lost my focus. To make matters worse, the writing was no longer fun, and I considered stopping altogether.

    Writers call this “writer’s block.” It means that they cannot continue. Typically, this occurs when the next part of the story is unclear. A significant logic/plot/character issue often prevents the story from working. However, I knew exactly what I wanted to write and what it should read like. My problem was more fundamental. I did not want to write. To solve the problem, I took some time to think about my situation. As a test, I looked at the last paragraph and felt hesitation. I categorized these feelings as anger, stubbornness, and fear.

    What was the source of these negative emotions? I was not sure. Something new was occurring, and I needed a fresh approach. Well, I am an electrical engineer. What is an “engineering” approach to solving this dilemma, like an extensive technical analysis? Or would I take the soft approach by talking to my friends and family? Search the internet for solutions? Not quite. I solved my problem by not solving it.

    This choice freed up time, and I focused on home projects—lots of gardening. I even thought up a bunch of new topics to blog about. So, it seemed natural to write about this very subject. I did not intend to solve the issue but to explore it for entertainment.

   I did this until I got to this very paragraph. I must have re-edited the above ten times until I concentrated on problems with my first book. The marketing has not been going well because I am not a natural salesman. Perhaps I was secretly blocking myself from completing this fifth book to prevent another bad marketing situation from occurring. Seems logical.

    Was I tired of the characters? Not really. As I think about them, my only negative emotion is jealousy. They are young and get to have exciting lives. Why can’t my life be like that? No, that was not the source of the problem. Fear of success? Or failure? I have come to grips with the reality that writing is a hobby, and I will never be a megastar like Tom Clancy.

    Am I tired of writing? Again, no. At this very moment, writing this sentence is an enjoyable experience. I just thought of a new blog topic.

Look forward to “Working With An Editor.”

    Eventually, I came up with a plan. I was going to jump right in. When I got stuck, I would write my negative thoughts and answer some questions. Why was I feeling frustrated? How good would it feel to continue? How should I be feeling? What should I be writing about? Once I captured some thoughts, I would try again. This data collection would allow me to analyze my thoughts and look for patterns. There is that engineering mind again. Collect data, organize, and analyze. “The conclusion will rise above the noise.” Now, if I could put all that data into Microsoft Excel…

    With a lofty spirit, I jumped to where I had stopped. Next to my computer, I placed a notepad and was ready to capture my anxious thoughts. Immediately, I felt the wall. I did not want to type. So, I walked to the refrigerator to get a glass of iced tea. Then, I sat in front of my computer and felt frustrated because I feared what was happening. I looked at the blank page on the pad and did not want to write down my thoughts. “It’s write the book or write your feelings. Your choice!”

    Rather than let everybody know what was up in my baffling mind, I forced myself to write a paragraph and then another. The last thing I wanted to do was to have the world know why I could not be a happy writer. As I typed, I “had” to get up four times for a snack. This entire experience made me angry and frustrated. The words I slammed into Microsoft Word were terrible.

    However, after an hour of pounding, writing became more manageable, and I had genuine writer’s block. I knew the next part of the story but did not know how to make the leap. So, I stared at a blank wall, worked through the issue, and returned to writing. Three hours later, I looked at the clock. 11:30 p.m. Half an hour past bedtime. I powered through 15 pages!

    Amazing? Unexpected? Yes, it was. My fear of recording my fearful thoughts shamed me back into writing. What the heck? The human mind is indeed strange.

    In hindsight, I am not sure what my issue was. My best guess is that I embraced my fear, breaking me out of my funk. Perhaps the lack of success built up a roadblock. The amusing thing is that writing broke my fear of writing. Was this a logical procedure, or had writing inspired me to write? Or am I a brilliant writer that got stuck? Let’s go with the last one.

    Since that time, there have not been any significant problems. I again enjoy getting my characters into deep trouble and helping them out. Plus, I still have that blank notepad and will record my thoughts if there is ever an issue. Hopefully, I will not have to write, “Writing Is Difficult Again.”

    You’re the best -Bill

    July 08, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

notes:  thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this.  in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one! 

anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter.  beta read by @hobi-gif​ because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593​ who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter​ for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia​ and @untaemedqueen​ pitched in to help me in this journey as well.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*************************

Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem.  Well a few problems, actually.

The first is that he has to pee.

The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear.  He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.

A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.

The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.

Your hair is still damp.

Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep.  You smell like his shampoo and his soap.  You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You are covered in him; fitted to him.  Solid and warm and real.

Which brings him to his next problem.  

This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to.  The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit.  Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.

That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs.  He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.

He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.

Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.

And then he’s drifting off again.

***************************

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face.  His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.  

But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.

He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on.  Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him.  He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.  

So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.  

The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.

He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place.  Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower.  Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water.  Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.

And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.

Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do.  A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago.  But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell.  A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.  Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.

He has to tell you about that gun.

So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed.  It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress.  Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.

He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.  

It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months.  But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.

Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.

And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.

************************

He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled.  Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.

He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.

Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them.  At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.

“Beautiful,” you sigh.  

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

He crosses the room slowly.  Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible.  Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.  

“I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.

Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling.  “You already have.”

He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw.  You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly,  “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone.  Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.  

Would have, had you not been there.

“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly.  “You made the right call.”

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.  

“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw.  He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.  

On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.

He clears his throat.  “If that guy had brought backup -- ”

“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.

Yoongi chuckles.  “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”

“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”  

You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response.  “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.  

Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.  

“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh.  “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”

“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs.  “When I have two functioning arms.”

He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat.  Sadness creeps back into your features.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap.  “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you.  And all I can think about this morning is why?  Why did you do this for me?”

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.  

If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo .  That you feel like his chance at something more.  But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.  

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

“We’re both out here flying solo Doc.  We have to look out for each other.  Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears.  “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips.  And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.

Tell her about the gun.  

The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment.  Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth.  But before he can speak, you do.

“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts.  Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it.  “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.

He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather.  It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony.  It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.

It’s been a long time since he’s prayed.  It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

Yoongi shakes his head.  “Honestly? I don’t know.”  A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck.  “Just makes me feel better, I guess.  Is that dumb?”

“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek.  Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours.  “Not dumb at all.”

Tell her about the gun.

“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”

Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.

Almost.

“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck,  “I carry a gun all the time, actually.  I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You say nothing, expression unreadable.  And Yoongi keeps talking.

“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly.  “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”

Your eyes drop back down to the piano.  You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.

“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur.  “It’s not exactly a leap of logic.  Besides, I already saw your gun.  It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away.  You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night.  You’re still here right now.

“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit.  “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”

Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his.  Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point.  Maybe is not a dead end.  

“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment.  “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours.  “You can’t go back there.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away.  “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi.  This is years of my life.”

Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside.  He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.

“You’re not safe there.”

“I have to go back.  I don’t have a choice,” you repeat.  “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been.  I have to tread carefully.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales.  “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job.  Take a couple of sick days.  Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it.  Can you do that?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.

“Yeah,” you concede softly.  “I can do that.”  

You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.

Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention.  He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.  

Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this.  Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.  

He could not give a shit.

Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck.  He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.

He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless.  The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.

“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly.  “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighs.  “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”

“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge.  “He’s a good doctor.  He can get you some pain relief.  Get you back to working condition.”

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn.  “This is just a temporary fix.  You have to be careful.  Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”

Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.

“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs.  “I’m going to have some help.”

**************************

It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.  

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.

If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight.  Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course.  He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.

Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand.  He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.

The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.

“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches.  “What the hell happened to you?”

Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait.  He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.

“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin.  The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.

“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.

“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly.  “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”

Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face.  He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.

“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it.  Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“You’re not gonna say hello?  Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction.  The last thing he needs is a drink.  He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.

“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs.  “Don’t be a dick.  I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers.  “That’s new.”

Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.  Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.

“Jung,” he groans.  “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“So apologize then.”

“Fine,” Yoongi mutters.  “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately.  I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”

Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.  

“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats.  “We good now?”

Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.  

Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.

“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked.  “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck.  His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling.  He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.

“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation.  “Maybe.”

Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one.  He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar.  His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”

**************************

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.  

Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.

He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair.  Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.

Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.  

He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head.  They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop.  Catch him just before he got into his car.  Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.

There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.

Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way.  Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face.  Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.

Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.

Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take.  He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.  

No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.  

It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink.  He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move.  But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

*****************************

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work.  Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one.  Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.

His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.

It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping.  Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing.  He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.

Yoongi shakes his head in disgust.  Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?

It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside.  It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke.  The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.

Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.  

He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet.  But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past.  He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok.  Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

Yoongi takes a step towards Lee.  He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it.  Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.

Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.

“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly.  “And yes, it’s you.”

The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.

“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat.  “I know people.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung?  This guy knows people.”

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster.  Pupils blown with fear and coke.

“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly.  “You know people.  But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath.  Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.

“Great.  Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”

Lee shakes his head slowly.

“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”

The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.

“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident.  But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee.  She knows people, too.”

Lee’s body goes rigid.  Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.

“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers.  “You know her.”

“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs.  “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”

He advances on the man again, closing the space between them.  Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room.  He tilts against the stall door.

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly.  “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”

Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.  

“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.

“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply.  “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go.  You sure this guy is a doctor, Min?  He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”

“Nah.  This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor.  “Pretending to be a tough guy, too.  But all of that ends tonight.”

Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.

“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital.  You’re going to tell them you are leaving.  You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you.  And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”

He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.

“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”

Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.

“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace.  “Give us the name of your street guys.”

Lee panics.  “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks.  “They’ll kill me.”

Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall.  His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.  

“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me.  Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”

Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack.  He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern.  But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look.  That is something he did not see coming.  Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.

He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.

“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly.  “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”

Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance.  “Okay.”

“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.

Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago.  Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past.  “That was cold.”

*********************************

YOU

There’s buzzing.  Of that, you’re sure.

But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it.  You’re disoriented.  It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.

Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day.  If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.

The buzzing sounds again.

You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.

ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]

ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]

ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]

Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.  

Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay.  He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled.  But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.

It made you want to say yes.

Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic.  In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.

you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]

you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]

**************************

Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.

You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs.  Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.

“Eat,” she orders sweetly.  Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.

“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs.  “I might have to live with you forever.”

Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.

“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak.  “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully.  “Dr. Lee is gone.  Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”

You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread.  Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.

“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more.  Nang left, too.  And Tuan and Beom from pathology.  All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi.  Isn’t that wild?”

You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.

“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around.  And here I am, drinking my tea.  Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now.  Isn’t that interesting?”

You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.

“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”

Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.

“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly.  She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip.  “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”

She leans back, cup in hand.

“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while.  “But there’s still a lot I don’t know.  And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”

Ko tuts under her breath.

“I want to hear it all.  I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore.  So now you spill it.”

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

“Okay,” you exhale.  “So there’s this guy -- ”

“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts.  She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”

“Helping you,” Ko echoes.  “As in helping you out of your clothes?”

“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming.  “He’s a friend.”

Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie.  But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.

“Go on.”

“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly.  “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses.  “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work.  And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”

You nod weakly.

“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low.  “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”

“No,” you mumble.  “Definitely not.”

Ko hums under her breath.  She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim.  Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.

“If I said no would that stop you?”

“Not a chance,” Ko laughs.  “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”

Mind like a steel trap, this woman.  You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast.  There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction.  Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth.  But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.

Her approval.

“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”

Ko snorts.

“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya .  And if he’s helping you with something like this?  Chances are, you’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table.  “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”

The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.

“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly.  “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.”  She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own.  “But you do.  You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him.  And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”

Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes.  The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.  

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop.  Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.

But it's well past time you accepted the truth.

The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug.  The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun.  They’re two halves of one whole.  

And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.

Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants.  You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.

yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]

yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]

Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you.  You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head.  “Just, um -- ”

Bundle up.   A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.  

“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.

Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.

You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival.  The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s.  You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.  

You pull it out.

The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.

You don’t have to guess what it’s for.

You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.

*****************

tag list!

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[demonslayedher]

How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.

[darthzero22]

Free time

Crosshair x Neutral Reader 

The Havoc Marauder was in hyperspace, heading for the planet where your squad would do the mission. It was a bit of a long trip, so the others went to sleep, except for you and Crosshair.

You were in the back of the ship sitting in a chair reading your datapad, while Crosshair was standing in front of the table looking at his rifle and making some improvements to it. You would sometimes raise your eyes and look at him, but since he had his back to you he didn't notice you looking at him from time to time. What you had on your datapad was the mission report, but it was kind of boring, so sometimes you got distracted by moving a droid's head with your foot.

The ship had a reputation for being a mess on many occasions, mostly because of Wrecker. You had gotten used to it, in fact sometimes if you were really bored, you would clean up a little, but very occasionally. Although you wondered why there was a droid head on the ship, you thought maybe Tech used it for one of his analysis or projects, and now it was on the floor because it was useless.

You while you were thinking all that in your head, you inadvertently kick the droid's head causing it to shoot forward and slam against the wall in front of you, and thus to Crosshair's side. You hiss, noting that he looks to his side, seeing the droid's head on the floor, and then turns back to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You smile nervously and wave a little to him with your hand.

“You weren't trying to hit me in the leg with that, were you?” he asked.

“No, no! Of course not. It was an accident”

Crosshair rolls his eyes, moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and turns to focus on his rifle again. You scratch the back of your neck and wanted to focus on your datapad, but you couldn't. You observe that he moves his foot up to the droid's head, which was next to him very close, and he kicks it back to give it back to you, then hits you in the foot. He didn’t break his posture, at all times he was with his back straightened looking at his rifle, and his back to you.

“Ouch! Cross! Really?” the blow hadn't hurt, but you were surprised that he did that. “I told you I didn't do it on purpose”

Crosshair looks over his shoulder at you and gives a smirk.

“Well, I did”

“Bastard” you said to him with affection.

“If you said so” he looks again at his rifle. “Now pass me my weapon kit”

“Pass me my weapon kit” you imitate his voice. “Every day I think 'please' is not in your dictionary”

“Don't complain, will you?”

You get up from your chair, leaving the datapad there, and then grab the Crosshair weapon kit that was next to you. It was heavy, so you pick it up and leave it on the table he was using.

“Thanks”

“Well, at least you know that word. You’re welcome”

When he looks at you, you squeeze his cheek affectionately, which caused him to shake his head a little when you move your hand away, and now he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You smile amusedly at him and return to your chair, then after grabbing your datapad you sit in it.

“Will you keep reading that? You've been looking at it for about half an hour”

“And I will continue reading it. It's just that what it says here is very important”

“Really?”

“Really”

“I see. Well…” he turns around completely, rests his waist on the table with his arms crossed, and looks at you. “Then I want you to explain it to me, please”

He had said that word, so you knew he wanted to tease you, and you were speechless because you couldn't remember what the datapad said from memory. He was looking at you with a smirk, waiting for you to say something, and you nod your head.

“I'll explain to you, of course” you clear your throat.  “It's… about the mission”

“No kidding. And?”

“And it also says here that the separatist base... is located in a jungle on the planet, and...” you were slyly looking at the datapad.

“Hmm. You know what I think? I think you've spent the first ten minutes reading that thing, and twenty minutes looking at me”

“What? But...!”

“And you thought I hadn't noticed. That's very adorable of you”

“Well, you know that I do read the datapad with the mission information, but this time...”

“And other times”

“And other times... I got distracted, with you. You make fun of me, but do you know the mission information?”

Crosshair grabs the datapad he had on the table, turns it on and shows it to you.

“I am more aware of the mission than you are. And the mission is in a forest, not a jungle”

“… I was close” you turn off your datapad and leave it on the chair next to you.

“For some reason you sound adorable when you try to defend yourself with words” he puts the datapad back on the table.

“Oh, thanks... I guess” you get up from your chair. “Well, I'll go get something to eat”

“It is too early to eat, you know?  You shouldn't waste your rations so soon”

“I know, but any second now my stomach will start to rumble. Do you want to hear that?” you smile.

“No, no” he clears his throat. “That's a good idea. Go ahead”

While you went in search of something to eat, Crosshair was taking care of his rifle again, but stops when he sees you coming back. He raises an eyebrow when he sees that you did not return with the typical food rations the Republic gave them, but with two fruits in both hands.

“What's that?”

“That's… two fruits, Cross”

Crosshair squints and you smile, trying not to laugh.

“Ugh. I know that, genius. I mean, what do you do with those fruits and how did you get them?”

“Oh, that! On the planet we were on yesterday there was a city, remember? While Tech was preparing the ship, I went to the city and bought these two fruits”

“Did you go to the city? How come I didn't hear about it?”

“You were busy with your rifle. I didn't want to interrupt you because you tend to get very cranky when that happens”

“Very considerate of you” he said with sarcasm. “So you spent our credits on that”

“Yeah. The first thing I wanted to do was to eat something different for a change, Cross” you were smiling. “And I didn't buy two just for me, one is for you. Here”

You give him the second fruit you bought and when Crosshair grabs it, you start eating. He waits a few seconds and also begins to eat, being surprised, in a good way, by the taste of the fruit, that's why he opened his eyes wide for a moment.

“Not bad, huh?”

“I still believe you didn't have to spend those credits on this”

“So you like it” you smile.

Crosshair frowns and continues to eat his fruit, trying not to make eye contact with you. It made you happy to know that you picked a fruit that he liked. You were surprised that he finished his fruit before you did, which meant he was hungry and had actually liked it.

“I wasn't the only one who was hungry” you said. 

“Hmm. Yeah, maybe”

You could see traces of the fruit juice on his lips, so you approach him and run your thumb across his lower lip, wiping it and stroking it in the process. Crosshair was looking away, until he looks at your thumb and kisses it softly, and that's why you look at each other. You could see what he felt in his eyes, he could see the same in yours, so you brought your mouths close together to merge in a kiss. The taste of each other's mouth, plus the taste of the fruit juice, was a more than delicious combination, so you stay kissing longer than other times. He brings his hands to your waist to draw you closer to his body, and you bring your hands to his face to start caressing it.

When you slowly pull away from the kiss, since you saw him do it many times, you pull out of his belt pocket a toothpick and bring it to his mouth, then he grabs it with his teeth in a somewhat provocative way.

“Oh, really? You did it on purpose”

“Hmm” he moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and smiles attractively. “Don't play innocent. You like it when I do that, and you wanted me to do it”

You raise your head, because earlier you lowered it a little to hide the blush on your cheeks, and rest a hand on his chin to caress it with your thumb.

“Yeah… I won't deny it. It's just that I'm lucky to have you, and I hope this will last for a long time”

“Me too” 

There was a moment of silence, until Crosshair squints his eyes for a few seconds looking away, and raises an eyebrow when he looks at you.

“You're not going to propose to me now, are you?” he joked and crosses his arms. 

“Aww, you noticed. I had prepared everything. I was going to get down on one knee to propose and all that” you joked as well, with a smile. 

Crosshair laughs at the joke you had made, and so do you. Then you  stare at each other for a few moments, until you smirk again. 

“But one day I will do that, and in front of everyone" you said. 

“Oh, no. No, no. If you do that, I'm going to ignore you for the rest of your life"

“Just imagine it....”

“No!”

“In the middle of a mission, I get down on one knee to propose you marriage with Wrecker, Hunter and Tech watching us, especially Wrecker" you were still joking. 

Now you see Crosshair cover his eyes with one hand.

“Wait. Did you really imagine it, Cross?”

“Hmm” 

“You did!”

You laugh when you see that his cheeks had flushed a little with embarrassment. Crosshair lowers his hand to cover his mouth and looks at you with narrowed eyes. 

“Do you really think it's fun to embarrass me?“

"Ah, I imagined the situation and it was more adorable. I think your face would be more flushed than it is now, and now you are very flushed” 

“... How much?”

“Very flushed” your smile gets bigger.

Crosshair now turns his back to you so you won't keep looking at his face, as he was indeed very flushed, and goes back to the table to take care of his rifle. 

"Come on, Cross. You look cute like that"

“I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of seeing me like this”

You approach Crosshair from behind and rest your forehead on his back, wrapping your arms around his body in a hug. 

“I'm always able to make you blush again”

You rub your forehead against his back and you could feel his heart racing, which made your smile get a little bigger. Then you bring your head up and give him a kiss on the back of his neck, and now he sighs. He turns around so that he was now facing you and you kept smiling.

“Great... Now because of you I can't concentrate on improving my rifle"

“And because of you I couldn't read the mission report properly. We are even” you smile. 

You two stare into each other's eyes for a couple of seconds, until you wink at him and Crosshair smiles.

“I know, I know. I teased you a lot”

“Well, I admit you make my life more interesting with that, and a little more fun"

“That's enough for me”

You were about to walk away to finally leave him with his things, but Crosshair stops you by grabbing your hand.

“Hey, hey. Where are you going?” he asked. 

“I'm going to go check the ship's controls, you know, to see the status”

“Oh, no, no. After all those times you teased me, you're going to stay”

“Oh, very well. It seems fair to me” you smile.

He pulls you closer to him and puts his hand behind your head to kiss you. You reciprocate, and when you were closer to his body, he places his other hand on your waist, practically hugging you, then you rest your hands on his chest. 

[kaijutegu]

hi! i just want to ask: why teeth/disease for gums and teeths? what made you choose this path? (i love it btw)

Family curse.

Also, when I first saw the teeth of the skeletal population I study, I went “woah those are the most diseased teeth I’ve ever seen what the fuck HAPPENED here” and nobody could answer that question so I decided I’d answer it. My advisor was all “the fuck I thought you wanted to do mortuary analysis but ok, because now I want to know what happened here.”

The reason was that trade- these folks lived on the central Andean cost more than a thousand years ago- introduced corn, corn alcohol, and coca leaves. There’s all this cultural evidence pointing to them kinda becoming more like their neighbors, who were a much bigger polity/early state thing- this is all pre-Inca, pre-Quechua-as-they-are-today. So it kinda seems like to fit in with this new, larger group who used corn alcohol to facilitate social interaction, they started drinking a lot.

And then their teeth started going to hell and suddenly you see this interesting tradeoff, because usually you don’t die from fucked up teeth- but you DO feel pain. A lot of it. Some of these people were living with huge cavities in ten or twelve teeth. One individual in particular- he lived to his 60s or 70s and he had at least one huge cavity in EVERY remaining tooth. This took years to happen.

It also looks like there’s an increase in coca use at this time. Coca’s a leaf that pretty much everyone chews in the Andes. It’s great for mild pain and altitude sickness… but it also depresses saliva production. So short-term active pain relief looks like it also led to longer-term pain issues, which is another trade-off.

There’s still a lot of stuff I’m looking into like “why did they not simply pull the diseased teeth,” and “how much of the corn they consumed was fermented versus not.” It’s a fascinating project. At least I think it is!

[animefreak1145]

The Irony of Adler and Bell

Call of Duty: Black Ops Analysis of Adler’s Brainwashing

It’s me again. And I’m here with another analysis! This time based solely around Adler. It’s always about Adler. But also Bell.

And this is about the brainwashing of not Bell, but Adler.

We have all had our theories since we first saw Adler getting tortured in the Cinematic Warzone Trailers, shown in Season 3 of COD:BOCW. Our suspicions growing when we see Sus Adler™️ doing what he does best in Season 4 by stealing an important looking chip within the crashed satellite that was taken down. (Also, Hudson, what is wrong with you letting Adler be cleared for a mission when he was just rescued like two weeks ago?!)

And although we did not see him in Season 5, we can all gather that anyone could be potentially brainwashed if you have a certain brand of earpiece. (Woods and Stryker appeared unaffected despite having their own earpieces). So the naive hope and calming words to others that Adler being different and strong is out the window. All it takes is hearing the numbers. What do the numbers mean, Mason?

Besides Bell wasn’t your average run of the mill agent either. An amazing decoder and created codes(I am with the theory that Bell did create the codes for Perseus that we have to decrypt in the game for Operation Chaos and Red Circus) with a brutal close combat skill as well as charming based on how one could talk to everyone and be a social butterfly. Also, able to handle and withstand torture after one hour of leaving Cuba despite previous injuries AND be able to go to Solovetsky/Duga and able to aim and shoot despite having a needle shoved in their eye a few hours earlier.

Bell had crazy skills. Just like Adler does. Bell was brainwashed. So is Adler.

Confirmed with this bundle that will be released. Thank you to @reclaimedbythesea who first found it and pointed it out.

We have the confirmation—the amazing, horrible, war criminal man we all love has become an agent of the man who he swore to chase down and capture/kill for longer than a decade. (Adler said thirteen years in COD:BOCW universe, so 1984 it would be sixteen years. Sheesh. Correct me if I’m wrong. I may be mistaken.) Is it wrong I kinda find it funny? Especially since he did the same thing to Bell—believing it to be necessary. Just as Stitch I’m sure finds it necessary.

It’s just a big brainwash back and forth between these two countries, a race to see who has the most mindless agents on their side in the end. But we’re not focusing on that.

We’re focusing on how Adler’s karma finally caught up to him with all his war crimes. We can infer that he hasn’t just done a cruel action like that to Bell, but to others. “Whatever it takes.” That’s his motto. He’s messed up other’s lives—hundreds, maybe even thousands. The Vietnam War has a deep dirty history, such as the real operation of Fracture Jaw, Operation Ranch Hand with the use of Agent Orange, the Mai(My) Lai Massacre and who knows how many other operations that would/did affect civilians. Not that I would see Adler doing anything like the massacre, but you can’t expect me to not believe that he may have been involved with Agent Orange somewhat? And who knows what other operations and missions he’s done as a CIA agent after the war?

My point is, the man has been gathering karma for awhile. Not just with Bell(I am aware he had his orders in the war, I’m just saying I’m not sure if he feels much guilt about some said orders. Guilt I believe he may has, but I’m not sure it’s a high degree.) Of course, Bell isn’t a saint either. They were willing to kill millions with Perseus after all. A wayyyy higher body count than Adler. And who knows what Bell did with Perseus even before the Greenlight plan? Didn’t seem to mind millions blinking in an eye, so must be pretty cold or delusional about the whole free world killing their country thing. Thank you @yunatheintrovert for this post pointing out and showing a hint of just how not good a person Bell was.

I’m not going to say they deserved what happened to them due to Adler. I feel for Bell. I really do. Just like I can’t say if Adler deserves it for everything—just can’t say that because I’m not at liberty to judge other’s actions and claim what is deserved and undeserved. Leave that to judges.

But now I’m going to point out certain things—other things. Such as what I think to be Adler’s “new” name. At least to those in the Perseus Collective/Stitch.

Do I realize that “Cipher” may just be what this awesome skin is called? Yes. Will I rather ignore it and rant about the name for two ten minutes? Also yes.

On to the analysis!

ci·pher/ˈsīfər/: a secret or disguised way of writing; a code.

This first definition is what we can all gather of what the numbers represent—the code and simultaneously the key of brainwashing others in earpieces with just a certain order of number together.

Stitch and co. used said numbers on Adler, so why not call him Cipher? The Code? Funny, cause he killed Bell—the Decoder. Maybe Bell would’ve helped him out if he didn’t kill them.

Another hammer to the irony of between these two.

But no. The name gets better. Second definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/: a person or thing of no importance, especially a person who does the bidding of others and seems to have no will of their own.

PAHAHAHAHAHA! *clears throat* Now, this, this is what I think Stitch calls some true vengeance. Not only did he get to torture the man who did the same to him before, but made Adler a shadow of who he was before. A husk. Nothing really there. “Whatever it takes” indeed but for the opposite side now—a puppet with numbers for strings. Stitch did a good job in naming Cipher—I mean Adler. We don’t even know how far Adler shall go now, will the CIA have to kill him or will they be able to recondition him when/if they capture him? Will he even be the same? Nope.

Why do I find that definition funny? Well, I think Adler had a multitude of reasons for naming Bell, Bell. Just like Stitch did with Adler. And not just the obvious reasons of him ringing the bell at them to condition them as he was torturing/brainwashing them(we love Pavlov!). Let’s get the first definition out the way.

bell /bel/: a hollow object, typically made of metal and having the shape of a deep inverted cup widening at the lip, that sounds a clear musical note when struck, typically by means of a clapper inside.

I wonder if anyone knows where I’m going with this or I’m starting to seem like a madwoman.

I’m going to ask you guys to focus on the word, “hollow” for me. Hollow, as in not filled. There’s something in the bell alright, but it doesn’t do enough to fill out the hole does it? Like Cipher is now made a husk. Bell was made hollow—only a little bit filled with the little memory they got back before they were killed(maybe they weren’t, let’s just go with it for now). Or perhaps just a bit filled with false memories of Vietnam, of camaraderie. I doubt Stitch did anything like that.

Also, Bell is just an instrument for someone else to play. Play the right tune, and the Russian agent will do anything for you. Right, Adler?

Cipher is the puppet, just doing what he’s told when they give the orders. No will or thought. Just how Stitch likes it.

I’m not done yet! Second definition!

bell /bel/: a. A stroke on a hollow metal instrument to mark the hour.

b. The time indicated by the striking of this instrument, divided into half hours.

Another play on words of Bell being struck(jabbed with needles) to do what needs to be done. But it also represents the limited time that Bell has. Bell needs to help to stop Perseus and quick, Adler will make them go faster if needed by putting the highest dosage as possible without killing them to accomplish it. Or maybe it’s also a representation that Bell does actually have limited time left—Park did say MK—Ultra will be hard on the body physically and mentally. Perhaps MK-Ultra was slowly killing us and Adler just decided to give us a mercy kill while he was at it as he “tied up our strings.”( @cryinginthebackseat does point this out in their Adler/Bell story, go check it out!)

Let’s focus on the instrument thing again though, but back to Cipher. The third definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/ : a continuous sounding of an organ pipe, caused by a mechanical defect.

Oh man. Sounds like Adler is being played like an instrument too, continuously due to all the numbers and how the numbers can be everywhere if one is in the armed forces since they all use earpieces. Interesting shape too, a pipe. Long and thin and has two holes, a beginning and an end but which one is the top or the bottom? The beginning and the end? We don’t know how far Adler will go like this—as Cipher. It will eventually come to a point, where something squeezes within the pipe and manages to get out. Maybe. Or maybe Adler is just forever defected, like the definition suggests.

Not quite Adler anymore and just Cipher.

Just like Bell will always just be Bell. The other self practically gone.

It seems these two will always somehow reflect and affect one another, whether one is dead or not.

I swear I love Adler, so don’t mind some of my dark humor about him and this situation he’s in. It is pretty funny. At least to me. Stitch is funny. And petty.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

@salvija @smokeywhalee @quizzyisdone @efingart @samatedeansbroccoli @weirdoartist21 @tr1ppylady

[leviiattacks]

hi hi hi i really really really loved your jealous headcanon of levi and your teacher levi!!! i was wondering if i could maybe request something where you kinda mix the two(?) so like theres this event going on in school and the reader is very occupied and busy because shes paying attention to her students and then maybe she talks to some teachers about the event and then levi is just there secretly sulking cause he wants her attention too?? or idk you do you because your works are always soooooooo good thank you<3333

author note :: i did not stick to the prompt which was honestly an accident?/£/):7 but there is jealous levi and reader so i hope it workssss, it’s not that great and isn’t edited...but i hope you enjoy it :-( also thank you for the request you were very kind <3

for this to make more sense you’ll probably have to read my first ever teacher levi post which you can find here !!!!!

requests are always open :-)

word count :: 4.3k ???? longer than i expected ???? 

levi groans at the mention of sports day before turning to look at you dead in the eyes

he knows this is your doing, you’ve always been big on getting the children into sport and other extracurriculars

now see, he has no actual issue with sports day?? he’s pretty fit if he says so himself!!!

it’s just that he frankly does not have the effort to participate.

another part of him also feels frustrated seeing mike flock around you like an annoying bee

he’s asking all sorts of questions

“are we doing the three legged race again this year?”

“how about javelin?”

“HAHA...mike...”

levi takes one look at you and knows you’re trying to let him down softly, it is his favourite event after all.

“since last year’s fiasco and the way you nearly hit one of the sixth graders i think not.” you awkwardly chuckle patting his shoulder as if it’s any consolation

mike loves sports day, he’s competitive in all of the teacher only events and last year he even tripped you and levi up ON PURPOSE might you add

either way he still lost the teacher’s three legged race last year and ever since he’s been out to gain his title back.

levi remembers, he’s unsure if you do but he remembers vividly having to carry you on his back because you had sprained your ankle pretty badly after your collision with mike.

back then you and levi were still in the middle of your little math vs english debate meaning the whole walk to the infirmary was filled with bickering.

and when levi had placed you onto one of the beds you insisted you could treat yourself when you really couldn’t

the way that scenario ended had been with levi forcing you to place your foot onto his knee as he iced and tended to it

this year levi is not having any repeats of that. yes, he quite liked having some alone time with you, in fact it was one of the first times he stopped to wonder if he liked you.

BUT!!!! having you limp around the corridors wasn’t the best either and you were highly irritable until you were fully healed

“why don’t you actually try this year?” hange stifles a laugh, they’re stood to levi’s left and upon hearing their voice his shoulders sag. he knows he’s in for one hell of an earful

“i do try–”

“yeah whatever. anyway, you want a cupcake?” hange’s gesturing to the haphazardly iced buns in the four plastic containers in their hands

“these are for the bake sale!!” they add in enthusiastically.

levi’s about to shake his head, he’s already donated to the bake sale’s charity fund without paying for any of the baked goods. yes it is purely because he doesn’t trust hange to feed him anything edible

“they’re y/n’s batch :-)” hange’s wickedly grinning knowing they’ve hit their colleagues weakness

without another thought levi’s right hand dives into one of his pockets, fishing his wallet out. he places a few spare coins into hange’s palm

“wOAH, you’re pretty eager aren’t ya??”

their remark flies over levi’s head as he tries to pick out two of the most presentable cupcakes

“you’re so fond of y/n, why not try a little harder like i said?” hange’s thrown the bait in the river and levi completely falls for it. he turns ninety degrees completely forgetting about the cupcakes.

“i’m talking about sport’s day if it isn’t obvious.”

he faces hange directly. he scowls twisted in fake disgust and confusion all at once

“and why would i care about that?” he shoots back

“after walking in on the both of you touching each other up in the janitor’s closet i’m really surprised you’re — mMMPH—” levi’s shoved one of the cupcakes into hange’s mouth

“you’re gonna have to pay for that–”

levi smacks some more money into their palm to appease the issue

“when did you see that and have you told anyone else?” he’s seething right now, there’s no way he or you were unable to notice someone as loud as hange prance into the storage cupboard accidentally

“i haven’t told anyone but it has only been three days since i saw so who knowsss...”

“i’ll do anything for you to keep your mouth shut.” levi’s practically begging at this point

“i think you should buy a whole box of cupcakes as compensation. my eyes will never be the same again.”

levi hands over more than enough money, he’s probably handed over enough for two boxes just for extra measure

it’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything no, no, not at all. he just, this sounds so stupid but he isn’t sure what the two of you are????

you’ve kissed, A LOT but the only problem is that there’s never actually been confirmation of... something more? than that?

he’s simply horrible at asking, and seeing the way you’re talking to mike it’s almost getting to the stage of borderline flirting

he’s currently flexing one of his muscles and levi’s unsure if you’re actually gawking at them or feigning interest so mike can get bored and leave sooner

his bets are on you pretending for the sake of mike leaving until you reach out to squeeze his arm appreciatively

...

what is this feeling??

insecurity?? a low self esteem??? levi isn’t entirely sure what the emotion that surges through him at that moment is

but hange sure does, grinning at the scene playing out they shove moblit with their elbow

well, well, well levi getting jealous is certainly something new.

when levi knocks on the door of your classroom you assume he’s come to bother you and ask for the spreadsheet with grade averages and all that technical stuff

english and math grades need to be compared side by side and even though it’s your job to help with the data analysis you’re pretty bad at it so levi’s the one who USUALLY picks up the pieces and does it for the two of you

occasionally mike steps in and helps when levi’s got other stuff in the way

“oh levi!! mike told me he’d be doing this month’s spreadsheet?” you’ve poked your head out of the door to talk to him

levi’s eyes narrow at that because he hasn’t asked mike for help at all.

“i didn’t come here for the spreadsheet but i haven’t even told mike to assist me this month... i wonder why he’s so passionate.” he mumbles the last part under his breath

opening the door up you wave for him to come inside “what you here for then?” you ask, oOoh maybe he’s finished reading an inspector calls?? finally you can talk to someone about the twist at the end

“i’m taking part in sports day properly.” the statement is unexpected and ?? levi ?? take anything other than math seriously ??

“woah... i’m proud of you?? i’m glad you’re seeing it’s important to show the children physical activity is fun.” your smile brightens up the entire room and he begins to feel a little more confident

peering up at him your curiosity doesn’t go unnoticed and he clears his throat, he knows you’re expecting him to say something else

ok, ok, ok. he thinks he’s built enough courage up to ask you

“i’ve never got the chance to ask but would you like to go on a date?” on reflex levi screws his eyes shut, suddenly he’s convinced you’ll say no and reject him. why would you accept??

“sure!”

his eyes flutter open and he feels you grip at the sleeve of his shirt.

well? that went better than he expected?

“where do you want to go?” you ask

“doesn’t matter, but let’s go somewhere after sports day finishes up.”

“are you barely going to try like last year?” you’re munching away at a granola bar - it’s rather bland and makes your throat feel kinda scratchy

you’re midway through drinking some water to deal with the dryness but you nearly spit it out when levi responds

“no. i plan on winning every single teacher event.”

HE WANTS TO??? beat???? everyone???

“you’re planning on beating mike too?” you tilt your head to the side incredulously

levi purses his lips at the mention of his name

“why does that sound so absurd to you?”

“he’s um, very good at sport that’s all.”

“i am too.” levi’s adamant to prove his point to you

“fine, here’s a deal. win at least one teacher event and i’ll try and solve one of your funny math problems or whatever.”

“what kind of deal is that??”

“you’ll be able to see me struggle with numbers, for free!!”

“no. i have something better in mind.” levi bites his smile back, he can’t let you know the idea makes him feel

“and that would be?”

he takes a step forward decreasing the space between the two of you.

“how about you kiss me in front of everyone?”

your mouth falls open because oh wow....? you have no actual problem with the task you’re simply surprised that levi is willing to put the both of you out there like that. the spectacle is bound to raise some eyebrows

“deal?” he holds his hand out for you to shake

you nod your head. “it’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

and so your deal is sealed with a firm handshake.

the big day has ARRIVED!!!

all of the students are flooding in through the gates. some carry footballs, other basketballs. you’ve been here for less than ten minutes and had to save a ball from crashing right into an expensive window.

everyone’s wearing active gear, udo walks in with a ski mask on?? which is peculiar but it’s humorous so you don’t tell him off for it

you’ve chosen a comfortable olive green tracksuit, you don’t think you’re in the mood for ski masks like udo is

coincidentally levi happens to show up in the EXACT same type of tracksuit?? everything’s the same to the colour. you both stare at each other for a moment trying to figure out how exactly you managed that but give up, you guess you have similar tastes

the accidental coordinated outfits have a few of your students pointing and chuckling together

gabi and falco are laughing heartily and whispering god knows what about the two of you

“three legged race partner?” levi asks as he fills up some water bottles for the water stand

“oh? mike asked me to be his partner.”

levi doesn’t make it obvious that he’s jealous about it because what adult would be jealous over a three legged race??

but even if you can’t tell levi is pissed mike sure can

he’s walking past the two of you, hands shoved into his pockets when he spots you a few meters away. his eyes sparkle when he sees you. it’s at that moment he senses the dark piercing glare coming from your right.

you’ve yet to notice mike but levi’s seen him approaching from a mile away and he isn’t particularly happy about it.

the good thing about mike is that he knows not to mess with levi.

the two have known each other for years and by now mike knows messing with levi is a death wish in itself.

so when the poor physical ed teacher notices the way levi glowers at him he calls out your name to get your attention - he’s much too afraid to get anywhere near you

“Y/N!!”

whipping your head around you wave at your race partner, why does it look like he’s seen a ghost?? you shove that thought to the back of your mind, he’s probably just tired

“petra doesn’t have a partner and uhh... i think levi’s free. could you work with him instead?”

levi turns away to smile to himself. ah how the tables have turned!!!

“but i want to work with you? it’s always y/n and levi do this. y/n and levi do that!! i wanna try with someone else.”

what you’ve said is a lie. honestly you’d just like to see levi get worked up again

but levi doesn’t get the memo at all. it flies over his head and he huffs thinking if that’s what you want he doesn’t mind. he’ll just show you how he feels.

“it’s okay. i’ll go with petra.” levi nonchalantly salutes at both you and mike as he walks backwards before turning around to locate the ginger in question

WHY DID HE GIVE IN SO EASILY???? YOU WERE JOKING?????

with your mouth open wide mike looks at you once and puts the pieces together

“guessing you wanted him to stick around?” you suddenly hear and god, you feel kinda bad

“oh no!!! i would love to be your partner.” looping your arm with his you smile up at him

whether or not mike believes you isn’t clear but he does return your smile.

there’s a few minutes till the three legged race starts, everyone’s running around. erwin’s knelt down to tie yours and mike’s legs together

as he’s doing so you can’t help but hear a high pitched windshieldy giggle leave petra and you visibly seem annoyed. that’s if your arms crossed over your chest and clenched jaw are anything to go by

levi hasn’t even said anything notably funny ???? what is she laughing at ????

he’s quite literally just standing there making awkward small talk with her

it goes something like this

“have you marked your exams yet?”

levi doesn’t realise she’s said anything till she taps his shoulder and he asks for her to repeat her question

“oh.” he thinks for a while. “no not yet. i’ve got better shit to do. i don’t see them till next week either way.”

and then she just starts laughing so hard that she has to hold her knees and when that isn’t enough she holds onto a nearby pole for support

you see where this is going

when her breathing gets even more uneven she reaches out to grab levi’s upper arm

YUP. you knew it. you can’t be mad at her really. no one knows you and levi are sort of a thing.

a thing? is that the term? well, whatever late night calls discussing books and a few heated kisses in private mean that’s what you are

levi stares at the hold she has on his arm and you expect him to shrug her off. instead he sees you look, smirks a little and waves all the while letting her hand stay there

and the icing on the cake is petra waving at you too and her eyes are much more expressive than she thinks they are

she’s internally laughing at you for sure.

ok, not a big deal, NOT a big deal!!!

this is just him getting back at you for before.

flipping your head back your sad expression probably catches mike’s attention because he seems to cave in

“want to make him jealous back?”

his suggestion is interesting but you catch yourself second guessing

“he’s doing that because he’s jealous.” you mumble shaking your leg to test the strength of erwin’s knot

“and? don’t let him win.” he glances at his shoulder gesturing for you to make the next move

nodding your head vigorously you throw your arm over mike’s shoulder but find he’s too tall to make that work so instead you settle on holding him by the side

it takes you a little to adjust to the close proximity but in the time it takes you to do that mike informs you of levi glaring at the two of you

“mind if i hold onto you here? we can coordinate our moves faster!!!” petra doesn’t even wait for levi to agree to what she says. she just flings one of her arms around his torso

again, he lets her just as last time.

this game of cat and mouse is getting tiring, maybe you should have kept your mouth shut when mike approached you.

“ON YOUR MARKS.”

your senses snap back to where you are. your grip on mike’s torso firms and he turns to nod at you.

you nod back.

you’ll win this.

“GET SET.”

“AND GO!”

okay, SO.

something in your game plan must have gone wrong but mike’s strength is something you’ve clearly underestimated. his first step is so powerful you don’t even have the time to start moving

you assume that’s how you collapse to the ground behind him and scrape your hands onto the cement of the track

so much for winning. all you’re doing is bleeding and hissing trying to cope with the stinging sensation

“mike?!?? not again??” hange groans and jogs over to the two of you untying the ropes at your legs.

“do we have to ban you from another event??? you’re too reckless sometimes.” hange smacks his chest and then hurriedly whispers “levi’s coming this way if you value your life you better bolt and use the first aid kit as an excuse.”

mike doesn’t even debate with himself, that’s his best bet at staying alive and so he dashes away as if he’s left the shower on at home for five hours unattended

some students are murmuring under their breaths and luckily for you the forever reliable gabi and falco have come to your rescue with bandages

“show me your hands.” levi’s hard voice interrupts all discussion. petra’s stood peering over his shoulder and you swear you catch her muffling a laugh

levi frowns. “you good?” he asks. you assume this answer will be the deciding factor regarding whether or not he makes this an issue with mike

“i’m great – trust me!! just a few scrapes.”

levi doesn’t look convinced but he let’s it go.

he helps you get up and takes the bandages from gabi thanking her.

“i’ll patch y/n up.” he tells hange pointedly and they agree. moblit at that moment happens to run over with a megaphone in hand.

“SHOWS OVER FOLKS!! WE’LL MOVE ON TO THE JUMP ROPE EVENT FOR NOW!!!”

“i’ll make him lose the one hundred meter sprint so badly he won’t know what hit him.” levi’s been grumbling the entire time he’s sat down to bandage your hands.

now that you’re both sat close to each other again murmurs of “matching tracksuits??” are back

“you don’t have to it was a mistake levi.”

levi shrugs eyes scanning his handiwork. “i want to. i’ve got to earn my kiss in front of a crowd anyway.”

gently letting go of your hand he looks out onto the track waiting to be called.

you’ve never seen levi give his full effort into sports day but even then you’re unsure if he’ll ever be able to beat mike.

honestly mike sure is fast and you recall one of the children referring to him with the nickname lightening bolt

and speak of the devil. a group of children walk past and are talking about the teacher’s race

“mr bolt’s gonna win for sure. you seen him run?? he could be an olympian!!!!” zofia’s gushing about him, she happens to be a big fan

the only nickname you’ve ever heard for levi is ursula – “ursula sure is evil for giving us that much work >:(” you had heard udo say once during class but after the earful he got from gabi he never used the name again, neither did anyone else

a few more minutes pass in a comfortable silence and levi’s called over to his lane. you’ve accepted the fact that there’s no changing his mind and he’s bound to compete now

“wait for me by the finish line.” he instructs and so you do. you go your separate paths. he to his lane (he’s in the lane two) and you to the finish line

petra’s already standing there waiting. her elbows are propped onto the railing peering out towards the contestants.

making your way to stand with her you see her sigh dreamily at levi in the distance

“hey, i know you don’t like levi a whole lot. you know your fued and all but do you think he’d say yes if i asked him out?”

well.

that sure is unexpected.

you fight the urge to scoff because you know you and levi are starting to drop more hints. is this her way of finding out the truth?

“me and levi don’t hate each other actually.”

“oh, well dislike.”

“we don’t dislike each other.”

“tolerate?” she takes her bottom lip in between her teeth trying to control her frustration

“petra. i like levi.” your confession knocks the wind out of her. you both silently exchange looks. she’s very clearly in disbelief.

the next time she speaks the previous playful lilt in her voice is long gone

“as soon as you noticed i liked him you just had to decide you liked him too. people like you make my skin crawl.”

?????????

why is she so bitter?.)/&£:

you can’t help liking levi and he likes you too,, so what now??

“he likes me back petra. can we be civil about this? i don’t like workplace drama. i had no idea you were into him.” you’re hoping that this will happen to shut her up but NO!!! it doesn’t she’s only more mouthy now

“prove it.” she points one of her manicured fingers into your chest and demands evidence she doesn’t even deserve to see

“what???”

“if he likes you back so much he should be able to show it.”

you know, if it were any day, any other time or any other person asking you this you would have out right refused, but given the circumstances and levi already waiting on you to kiss him in front of the entirety of the school you see no issue with having the last laugh in this argument

“fair enough.” you mutter and lean over to see hange announce the countdown

“ON YOUR MARKS.”

“GET SET.”

“AND GO!!!”

you swear you blink because GOD what on EARTH????? you don’t understand why previous to this levi balked at the thought of participating because he’s made it look so easy.

he’s not bolted he may as well have TELEPORTED to the finish line. mike is breaking out in a sweat far behind him and the boyish grin on levi’s face is enough to tell how he feels

gasps and applause can be heard from the children. zofia and udo are passionately arguing about some bet they’ve made - you make a mental note to tell them that making deals is fun as long as they don’t bet large amounts of money

levi’s jogging up to you completely ignoring petra’s presence

“told you i’d do it. i avenged you didn’t i?” you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so confidently in public 

you acknowledge what he’s said with a cartoon like thumbs up and then you’re staring at him unable to locate your courage

oh fuck it

you lean in hurriedly and steal a peck from him. he blinks and then scowls much to petra’s amusement. she has to think he’s about to curse you out but unbeknownst to her she’s read the situation wrong

“is that your idea of a kiss??”

and then he takes matters into his own hands – no literally into his own hands. he cups your face in his palms and captures your lips with his own. as you reciprocate petra can be heard choking on her saliva.

“OH well who would’ve guessed the english and math department had an alliance????? not me???” next is hange, they’re feigning shock even though they’ve known what the two of you have been up to this entire time

the whispers have now become full on shouts

“i KNEW it they were dating?!?!”

“MAN??? I HAD A CRUSH ON MR ACKERMAN WHAT NOW???”

gabi and falco are audibly cheering, you’re quite sure they realised what was up long ago

“DON’T BE UPSET BUT I THINK THIS IS WAYYY BETTER THAN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE!!!!” falco’s comment makes your heart rise in your chest

and you know what? you think so too.

as levi’s hand travels to the back of your neck pressing you further into him you come to the conclusion that maybe just maybe this is far better than pride and prejudice ever will be :-)

[literaila]

sweet sweet relief

spencer reid x reader

request: do a Reidxreader where the reader is hotch’s younger sibling? They’d be new to the bau and hotch is over protective and reluctant to let them do anything. Due to their young age they get super close to Reid, maybe fluffy or angsty? Thank you!

Warning: angsty (kinda), BAU stuff...

The first time Y/N had met the team they could barely tell the two of them were related. 

They were nothing alike. 

It wasn't even just outside appearances, they were different, in character, in shape, in every form possible. 

Aaron Hotchner was calm and quiet, he was known to be stern and sophisticated, he worked actively to stay in control. He was cautious and careful. He was the epitome of undisturbed.

Y/N Hotchner was not. 

She was feisty and stubborn, and she would rather argue with someone than submit to them, and she was lively and sarcastic and known to be impatient. 

There were barely any similarities between the two. 

But they were both smart, and they both had a mindset for justice, both believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, that everyone had a right to feel safe in their world. They both believed that by removing just a little bit of the darkness within the world, just a little bit, it would make everything brighter.

But besides that, they were two completely different people. 

It was a surprise to everyone that they were related. 

That two people so completely different could share the same DNA. 

So when Y/N walked into the conference room, a little later than Hotch had requested, all of his team members shared confused glances at the smirk Hotch had on his face, at the almost-hug he had given this girl. 

She looked far too young to be his girlfriend. 

Hotch turned around to 6 pairs of confused eyes, 6 people with questions, 6 people who looked very very intimidating to Y/N.

 She’d heard all about Aaron's team, she’d heard about the lovely technical analysis, the eldest profiler who had a kick for jokes, she’d heard about Derek, the strongest member of the team, she’d heard about Emily and her history in crime, JJ who’d been the top in her class, and the genius who was only 3 years older than her. 

She’d heard about all of them. 

That didn't mean she was any less nervous to meet them. 

And with the way they were looking at her like they already wished she was gone, her nerves shot through her body. 

She couldn't help but turn to her brother, her eyes cast downward, and hope that he knew she needed help. Hoped that he knew her just enough to know when she was nervous. 

“This is Agent Y/N Hotch. Strauss assigned her as a new addition to our team.”

There was more collective confusion around the room. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asked, Y/N looked up at him, to see him frowning at her, she wondered why he cared that much, wondered why he was bothered by her, why he looked like he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

“Yes.” she answered back quickly, and sternly, like she was telling him as a favor, “Aaron is my brother.” 

There was a gasp from across the room. 

A blonde woman, with bizarre earrings and questionable clothes, walked over to Y/N, a wide smile on her face as she looked at Hotch with hopeful eyes. 

“Sister?” she asked, almost like she was being given a gift Y/N thought. 

Hotch only nodded. 

Her smile got wider. 

She embraced Y/N, pulling her into a quick hug like they’d known each other forever. Y/N felt some nerves escape her at the hug, at least one person didn't hate her already. 

“Hotch didn't tell me he had a sister, it makes sense though, you’re so pretty.” She pulled back to smile at Y/N, she had bright energy, one that reminded Y/N of a friend back home, her smile was contagious. 

“Y/N, this is Penelope Garica, the technical analyst I told you about.” 

“It's lovely to meet you.” Y/N said laughing, as Penelope pulled her into another hug, she already had a special place in her heart for the blonde. 

“You have a sister?” Derek asked, and Y/N looked over Penelope’s shoulder to see his face much more relaxed, less threatening, she immediately placed him as the man Aaron had told her about, the strong one. 

“Yes, I do. I never told anyone for security reasons, and there's never been a need to bring it up.” Hotch looked at his little sister with pride, he was glad she was there, glad he was going to get to spend some more time with her, glad she had made it so far so early in her career. 

“Plus, he didn't want to brag.” Y/N teased, making eye contact with Derek as a way to say she didn't mean any harm, as a way to let him know she wasn't going to be a problem. 

He smiled at her. She smiled back. 

“I’m Derek Morgan.” 

After that, three other people came up to her, with warm smiles, all introducing themselves, JJ who seemed warm and paternal. Emily, who looked to Y/N like a rebel at heart, she smiled a little extra at that. And Rossi, who immediately told her she was a part of the family, “Any family member of Aaron’s is a family member of ours.” 

It felt strange to be accepted by all of them so quickly, strange to feel so comfortable so quickly. 

And then she was introduced to Spencer. 

It took her heart a moment to force her to move. 

She’d heard about Spencer, the man who was closest to her age, the smartest man Aaron had said he’d ever met, the Doctor with three PhDs. 

He was utterly attractive. 

Nerves shot up and down her body, reminding her of the fear she had prepared herself for, though this time it was a different type of fear. 

She had not prepared for soft brown eyes and messy hair. 

She had not prepared for him to be anything like he was. 

Fuck. 

He was exactly her type. 

She shyly smiled at him, and he waved, just waved, unlike the handshakes she had gotten from everyone else, something in her mind was telling her not to question it. 

With a blush on her cheeks she looked away, she looked away and reminded herself that she was there to work, that her boss was her brother, that even if she did immediately want to know everything about the doctor only ten feet away from her, that this was work. 

She stayed silent for a couple of moments. 

Her brother announced it was time to get started on the case.

***

It had taken a couple of weeks to get used to the job. 

Aaron had warned her as much. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d asked as soon as she’d announced she was moving out to Virginia, moving to work with the FBI. Y/N had taken it as judgment, she thought he didn't think she could do the job, didn't think she was strong enough, didn't think she was mature enough to handle the BAU. 

She’d immediately run to her own defense, “I’ve been sure for almost 3 years Aaron.” 

“No, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. It's just… this job takes a toll on a person. Are you sure you want to do it?” 

There hadn't been a doubt in her mind, had not been a moment of hesitation, a moment of wondering if she was really strong enough, if she really dared to do what her brother did every day, there was never a question of if she thought she could do it. 

It hadn't even taken her a moment to answer yes. 

But, this time, Aaron had been right. 

Seeing dead bodies, learning about different methods of insanity, diving into the mind of people who were sadistic, not saving everyone. It was all heartbreaking. 

And exhausting. 

Y/N was starting to understand what her brother had meant, what he was thinking of when he said it took a toll on people, she was starting to wonder how he dealt with it, how he went every day being the boss and not breaking down while dealing with what they dealt with. 

She was starting to wonder how they all dealt with it. 

Most days, none of them seemed bothered, none of them seemed to mind any of it. She tried to remind herself that they had all been doing it a lot longer than she had, that they had seen everything a million times, that they had gone through the worst things she could imagine. It didn't help her feel any better. 

She wasn't going to quit though, she could feel it in her blood, in her heart, that she was doing the right thing. That this is what she was meant to do, that no matter how many people died, no matter how many terrible people there were, she was saving someone's life. 

And she was good at it. 

She kept her head held high and tried not to show any hesitancy. 

The night right after the case, one that had been particularly different from the others she’d seen, she felt practically dead on her feet. She wondered if she’d have to get used to the constant sleep deprivation. 

It was late that night when she overheard Spencer talking to JJ, who looked about five seconds away from becoming the next unsub. 

Y/N laughed behind them and wondered what he was talking about. 

In the 6 weeks she’d been there she’d gotten close to most of them, she’d learned about their lives, about the way they worked best, she learned how smart they all were, how amazed she was by them. But she hadn't gotten the chance to speak that might to Spencer. 

Maybe she didn't want to. 

Maybe she didn't want to feel herself slip under the coworker crush that she was familiar with, maybe she didn't want to learn about him, things about him that she would think about constantly, maybe she didn't want to get close to him in fear that someone might notice how taken back she was by him, maybe she didn't want her brother- and her boss -to find out about the crush she had on him. 

Maybe. 

Maybe all she wished for was some relief from the overwhelming feelings she felt for him.

She was thinking about him, thinking about ways to accidentally eavesdrop on the two of them without looking suspicious, when JJ noticed her. 

“Oh hey, Y/N” JJ looked exactly how Y/N felt. Her eyes were practically closed. 

Y/N pretended not to notice the way Spencer looked away from her. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, giving a little wave as she walked to the elevator doors. Home. That's where she wanted to be. 

“Spencer was just inviting me to a movie he recorded at his apartment that he was going to watch-” JJ said, as Spencer tried to interrupt her, she just gave him a stern look when he tried. “-but I need to get home to Henry, so maybe you could go with him instead?” 

There was a gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her mouth, if Spencer and Y/N both weren't so obvious they would’ve known what she was doing.

The team had been trying to set them up for a month. 

Y/N just stared confused, nerves running up and down her spine reminding her to breathe. She suddenly felt wide awake. 

Spencer just looked conflicted. 

‘Um- yeah” he cleared his throat, running his hands over his hair and down to his neck “yeah- you could come... Yeah.” he said, moving to glare at JJ for a moment, JJ who was smiling wide, knowing that Spencer would never take back the invitation- especially not for a pretty girl. 

“Oh.” Y/N jumped in surprise, her heart was beating faster at the prospect of going with Spencer, and while she knew that he had not technically invited her, she still felt her body practically shout with excitement. “Yeah, of course, I’d love to.” she stopped for a moment trying to collect herself, trying not to look as surprised as she felt, “if it's alright with you.” 

They all stood there in the elevator, listening to the quiet hum of the machinery, two of them looking awkwardly at the ground, both of them full of nerves, one of them smiling between the two of them. 

As the elevator finally came to a stop Spencer spoke up again. 

“Yeah, if you want I could- you could just- follow me… if you want.” 

Y/N nodded quickly, not used to Spencer talking to her directly. 

JJ smiled just a little bit wider, just a little, and waved them both goodbye, turning around before saying “I’ll let you both deal with that.”. 

She couldn't wait to tell Penelope. 

And then there were two.  

Two, very socially inept, nervous, people. 

***

Spencer's apartment was just as Y/N had expected it to be, it was small and warm, and there were a million lamps all around the space. It was filled to the brim with bookshelves, at least 5 of them all around the room making it look smaller than it was. In the corner of the room there was a small couch and a tv, Y/N could see books spread all over the coffee table, and multiple mugs sitting around the room. 

It felt like his home. 

Y/N adored it. 

Though Spencer looked around nervously, his eyes uncomfortably noticing all of the things he’d forgotten to pick up, all the books he’d left out. 

“So um- this is it.” 

Y/N giggled a little at that. 

Her car ride over there had been filled with doubts and insecurities, she had noticed how distant Spencer had been with her, how little effort he had made to get to know her. Out of all of her new friends he was the least welcoming. 

She still felt drawn to him. She still felt like she needed to get to know him. 

It was the craziest feeling. 

On her way over she had decided she would get to know him, just so she could count herself as a friend, just so she could start looking past him, start looking at everyone else instead of constantly being focused on him. 

“Okay. Do you have popcorn?” Y/N said breaking the silence they had been surrounded in. 

It earned Y/N her first smile. 

She was amazed. 

She wanted to keep making him smile. 

Spencer gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen while he put a bag of something- which she assumed was popcorn as she had asked -in the microwave. It felt just a little bit more comfortable now, almost like they weren't going to have the worst time together.

“So uh- how are you um-” Spencer cleared his throat, clearly out of his bounds. “How are you enjoying the BAU? I knew that- um- when I first started I was really nervous.” 

Y/N felt a bit darker at his words. Did she tell him how she really felt, about the doubts she’d been having? Or did she lie through her teeth? Lie to the man who had given her his first smile, lie to the man who had invited her over? 

Turns out she didn't have to answer that question, as Spencer answered it for her like he did most questions. 

“Oh no. Did I- um… Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry I didn't mean-”  

“What?” she said quickly “No you didn't say anything wrong…” 

Spencer stared at her, waiting for her to continue, he felt like she had more to say. 

“It's just I… I don't know I’m just not-” she threw her hands up and sighed, surprised by her own reaction, she didn't want to throw all of her problems at Spencer, especially when it was their first time even having a full conversation out of work. 

“Is there something wrong?” he said quietly, trying to read her body language to gauge her reaction. 

“I just-” she sighed again and put her head in her hands. “I can't explain.” 

Spencer nodded. He just stared at her a little bit longer, he had read somewhere that if you leave silence between conversations, most of the time the question would be answered all on its own. 

After a couple of seconds waiting he could clearly see this wasn't the case with Y/N. 

“Okay. What if I ask questions… and you answer?” 

Y/N looked up, “like an interrogation?” 

Spencer smiled a little bit and nodded, he was glad she seemed open to the idea. 

“Okay.”. 

They spent the night like that, Spencer had learned all about Y/N just through asking questions. 

The movie was forgotten. 

Y/N had come clean about her worries, about her hesitations with their job, Spencer had practically pulled the truth out of her after seeing past all the empty answers she gave his questions. 

It was infuriating how much he could read her. 

Eventually, they had switched, and Y/N had asked the questions for a little while. 

She had learned about Spencer's mom, had learned about his love for all things sweet, had learned about his favorite books, and had learned a lot more about practically everything than she ever had in school. 

It was almost addicting. 

They switched back and forth for hours, eventually moving to the couch, asking each other questions and laughing. 

It was almost two in the morning. 

Earlier Y/N had felt like she was going to fall asleep standing. 

Now she felt wide awake. 

She thought about how the morning would turn out, how much they both needed sleep, and eventually said, “I should probably go.” 

The smile Spencer was wearing fell just a fraction of an inch, and Y/N immediately felt terrible. 

“I think we both need some sleep.,” she said, trying to communicate that she didn't actually want to go, but she definitely didn't want to fall asleep at her desk the next day. 

Spencer walked to the door and smiled. 

He smiled. 

She wondered how hard it was going to be to stay away from him now. 

***

“Aaron she was going to die!” 

“Y/N, you can't throw yourself into situations like that.” 

A year later she had no doubts about her job. 

No hesitations. 

Nothing but the need to save as many victims as possible. 

Cases in Virginia were always the most stressful, with Strauss breathing down their necks, the media wanting to know everything about the FBI that was located in the state. 

They all hated it. 

They much preferred to go out of state, somewhere with none of their families, none of their problems constantly chasing them down. It was always so much calmer when they weren't home. 

Always so much easier. 

And maybe running directly into danger wasn't the best way to relieve stress. 

Y/N knew that. 

But she also knew how scared that girl must have felt, she knew how deadly the gun in the unsubs hand was, and she knew that it was her job, not just as an FBI agent, but also as a person, to do something. To do anything to save a little girl's life. 

She wasn't going to stop to think about her own life in a moment like that. 

She had rushed into the house, rushed into the place where so many other little girls had died, rushed into the place with a man almost three times her size, a man who was holding a gun. She wasn't going to risk that little girl's life. 

And she was fine, and that little girl was alive.

To her, that was worth more than a million praises from anyone. 

It wasn't enough for Hotch though. 

The minute they had gotten back to the office, the second Y/N had tried to sit down at her desk, the minute she had tried to say anything to Spencer, that was the minute Hotch pulled her away, furious, into his office. 

She already knew she was in trouble. 

He had sat her down, he had repeated exactly what he had said when she arrived at the unsubs house, alone, he repeated his exact orders to her, repeated the orders that she had deliberately disobeyed. 

“Aaron. She needed my help!” 

“Y/N you can't risk your life! And you definitely can't ignore a direct order.” 

Both of them had scowls on their faces, and at that moment they looked exactly like siblings, looked so similar it was hard to tell them apart. 

The rest of the team was sitting in their desks, listening to them fight, pretending to be filling out late reports, but mostly listening to the two siblings fighting. 

Garcia was standing outside the door, waiting for something to happen. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her best friend. She didn't want them to fight at all. 

Spencer nervously looked from the door to his desk over and over, waiting for one of them to walk out, waiting for the yelling to continue. He knew that his girlfriend was probably freaking out internally, trying to control her anger as she had to do many times with her brother. He knew that what she needed right now wasn't a reprimand, what she needed was reassurance. He had no idea how he could get that to her. 

“Aaron. I am good at my job. I got her out of there. Safely.” Y/N said sternly, refusing to back down, even for a moment, refusing to admit that what she did was reckless, refusing to admit her life meant anything more than that little girl. 

“But at what cost Y/N? What if you had gotten hurt-” 

“I didn't.” 

“Or died? What would that mean for us?” He asked, looking at her, his eyes hard and unmoving. 

Their stubbornness was always something they had shared. 

“Aaron. I knew what I was doing. I had to save her.” 

“It was reckless Y/N.” 

“Maybe it was. Maybe, it was. But I’m fine, she's fine, we’re all fine.” she reassured him by gesturing to the door, why didn't he understand that she couldn't not go in there?

“I can't have you acting like that. I can't have you not listening to my orders.” 

“Is that what this is about? Me disobeying you?” Y/N asked in shock, shock because it almost felt like he was trying to control her, trying to show her that he was still older than her. “Because news flash Aaron, I’m not some little kid you’re in charge of anymore.” 

“I’m your boss.” 

“I had to do it!” she said finally. 

“It was stupid. It was stupid and reckless, and I have no idea what you were thinking.” His words were final and stern. His face was angry, and he was clenching his fists. It looked like he wanted to say more but Y/N wasn't going to let him. She wasn't going to let him call her names, and treat her like she wasn't an adult.

Y/N was done, she was done trying to be calm, done trying to keep all her feelings hidden deep in her chest, done trying to pretend she didn't want to throw something at him, she was done. 

“I’m not a little girl Aaron!” she yelled at him, walking away. “I can take care of myself, and I know what I’m doing. Maybe that's not good enough for you, but it's good enough for me.” 

And she threw open the door, too angry to care about Penelope who was standing shocked in front of her. She rushed to her desk and started throwing things in her bag, mumbling under her breath. 

“Y/N?” Someone said from behind her. 

She sighed. 

“What Spence?” she said quietly, feeling like giving up. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, grabbing her arm and trying to get her to look at him. If she looked at him he would know how she was actually feeling, without having to guess. 

She looked up and studied his eyes. 

“He's being ridiculous!” she whisper-yelled looking back down at her desk. “I did the right thing and I’m fine. He's just mad because I didn't listen.” 

Spencer watched her for a few moments. 

“Maybe he's right,” he said quietly, his eyes looking worried and surprised, surprised because he hadn't meant to say the words out loud. 

Y/N’s head snapped up. Her eyes looked deadly. 

“What?” she said quietly, more quietly than she had been in the past 10 minutes. 

“Y/N I just think that-” 

She cut him off. “No Spencer. You’re supposed to take my side. You’re supposed to have my back. Jesus-” she said sadly grabbing her bag from her desk and throwing it over her shoulder. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re supposed to support me.” 

“Y/N I do I just-” 

He couldn't get anything else out. 

“You’re supposed to support me,” she said desperately, giving him one last look, one filled with anger and doubt and sadness, and all the feelings she had no idea how to express, she gave him one last look and 

She walked out the door. 

***

Driving was a helpful coping mechanism. 

Driving helped Y/N ease her mind. Helped her think things through. 

She knew she shouldn't have yelled at Aaron and Spencer like that, she knew she had overreacted. And she knew that to some degree they were right. 

She hated how protective both of them were. 

She loved how protective both of them were. 

It was a difficult car ride, she was doubting herself, doubting her instincts, doubting her efficiency as an agent, doubting if her brother and boyfriend believed in her. 

She knew she overreacted. 

But Aarons words had hurt, he had insulted her, and even if he’d had reason to, it still hurt her feelings. 

Spencer was a different story. She’d automatically assumed he would agree with her, would agree that the little girl's life was worth more than any risk, would agree that Hotch was being harsh. 

She’d forgotten how angry he could get when she ran right into danger. 

She was driving and her palms were sweaty, and her stomach was being attacked by anxiety, and she had no idea how to talk to either of them. 

All she knew was that she had to. 

She had to get over her feelings, she had to think about them.

So she drove back. Slowly. As slow as she could go, but she drove back. 

When she parked her car she felt like turning around, she felt like a little kid again about to go tattle on her brother to her mom, felt like she was the victim and the abuser all at once, and felt an overwhelming amount of emotions fill her to the core. 

She walked inside. It took her a moment to remember how to get back to her desk. 

It was irresponsible for her to leave in the first place. 

When she walked through the doors of the BAU you noticed Spencer's absent desk, she noticed her other coworkers staring at her, their eyes a bit hopeful. She looked at them confused. 

“Reid went to the bathroom. Don't worry pretty girl, he didn't leave.” Morgan said, reading the question in her eyes, watching her exhale in relief. 

She smiled at him and walked towards Hotch's office. 

She had been gone almost 2 hours, and technically she knew that everyone could have leftover half an hour ago, but she also knew all of them, and she knew how late they’d stay. 

She knocked on her brother's door, regret pooling at her stomach, air filling her head. 

There was a quiet “come in” from the other side.

She peeked inside his office, saw him scribbling on a piece of paper, and as soon as he looked up Y/N felt a million times smaller. She always felt smaller when she was in trouble. Though when she looked at her brother's eyes all she could see was relief. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, looking back down at his papers, clearing his throat, clearly a sign that she could come in. 

So she did. 

She walked over to his desk and sat in one of his empty chairs. She watched him write for a minute, thinking of something to say, thinking about all the times she’d had to apologize to him in the past. 

“Aaron.” 

“Hmm?” he said looking up at her again. 

“I’m-” she paused, paused, and took a deep breath. He deserved an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

She saw his jaw twitch, saw a flicker in his eyes, saw a drastic change in posture. 

“I know,” he said. 

She sighed in relief. She knew he wasn't mad anymore. 

“I know I overreacted. I know it was stupid what I did. I won't do it again, I just- I just had to do something. That's all.” She hoped that was a good enough explanation, hoped it would make him forgive her, hoped her mistake could cost her in the future. She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see his reaction. She hated apologizing.

“It wasn't stupid,” Hotch said, putting his pen down. She looked up at him slowly. 

“What?” 

“It wasn't stupid. I’m sorry I said that. I understand what you had to do.”

More relief, making its way up her feet, and into her stomach, relief filling her chest with cool air, seizing the fire of anxiety in her chest. Sweet, sweet relief. 

“But that doesn't mean you can ignore my orders” He added, and Y/N felt herself smile. He was teasing her, she saw a glimpse of the brother she used to- still -idolized. 

“Sir, yes sir,” she whispered, moving to stand up. She had another person to apologize to. As she walked away her brother spoke again, 

“Y/N?” she nodded, looking back at him. “Don't be too hard on him,” he said gesturing outside, where Spencer was back at his desk, staring at the bag on top of Y/N’s. 

She smiled at him and looked over at her brother. “I won't.” 

She almost walked away again “Aaron, you should go home.” he looked back up at her “go say hi to my nephew for me. “ 

And with that, she walked out the door, walked away too fast to see him smile at her. 

The relief was invading her brain, making her next decisions for her. 

She would have to thank it later. 

She walked out the door and over to Spencer's desk, Spencer who looked surprised she was actually there. 

She grabbed his arm and pulled him up. 

“Hey-” 

She kept pulling him, moving both of them into an empty storage room, while the rest of the team laughed at her antics. 

As soon as she made it into the small space with him, as soon as he looked down into her eyes, his face entirely a question, her nerves entirely seized. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Spencer frowned at her. He frowned and opened his mouth in a silent question. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you. It was unfair.” She said, searching his eyes for forgiveness. 

They didn't fight often, barely fought at all, but every time they had she had always found the answer to her problem in his eyes. His eyes seemed to know everything. 

She wondered if they knew how much she loved him. 

“No, Y/N I should’ ve-” 

She pulled him into a kiss, resting her hands in his hair as he moved his to her cheeks, as she held her apart as she kissed him, her lips an entirely different apology of their own. 

Sweet sweet relief. 

When she pulled back, just enough to see his face, she watched him sigh in bliss, watched the tiny smile on his face, watched his eyes open with amazement. 

She wondered when she had last kissed him like that. 

It seemed like too long. 

She pulled him back in, giving him small pecks on his lips, and then his cheek, and then his neck. Smiling at the way he giggled when she tickled him with her hair. 

“Y/N?” he said after a moment, his voice warm. 

She looked back up at him to smile, to smile and peck his lips once more as an answer. 

“I think I’d like you to take out your anger on me just a little bit-” 

She cut him off with a kiss. 

Sweet sweet relief.

my masterlist here.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Last chapter of this volume! Can’t believe we’re already through four volumes, and we’re not even done with the second full arc yet. I mean, later arcs are gonna be even longer, but like. Yeah.

[No. 35 - Battle On, Challengers!]

We move on to the next match - Kaminari versus Shiozaki! I’m actually kind of marveled that they were able to thaw out that entire glacier in any sort of timely manner. That’s quirks for you!

Present Mic announces Shiozaki as class 1b’s assassin, and also reveals that he apparently either doesn’t know the full quote for ‘every rose has its thorns’ or started to say it, only to realize she didn’t have roses and scrambled to compensate. Kaminari, meanwhile, gets announced as a ‘sparking, killing boy.’ Really kind of morbid on this round, huh?

Shiozaki turns around to object to Present Mic’s descriptor as an ‘assassin’, stating that she’s merely come this far seeking victory. Present Mic apologises, and Kaminari just kind of watches while admiring her. He takes notes of her eyes, and then thinks about how strong she is. He then sort of counters his previous admiration of strength by asking himself if he really has to hit someone so pretty with a full discharge, then concludes his ‘battle plan’ by determining that he’ll ask her out once all this is over.

Present Mic starts the match while Shiozaki is still focused on talking to Mic - which means she’s facing away from Kaminari. Which is kind of a dick move on Mic’s part, but eh, I guess ‘heroes have to be ready for anything,’ yarda yarda etcetera. 

Kaminari asks Shiozaki if she wants to grab something to eat when they’re done there, and that he’s happy to console her if she wants. She turns to stare at him in confusion, just in time to see him charging up his whole body with his quirk. Kaminari makes a quip about this match probably being over in an instant - and then we cut to the immediate aftermath, where Present Mic comments on how it’s already over while Kaminari wheys out in the grasp of Shiozaki’s vines. Shiozaki was both able to create a shield against the electricity and yank Kaminari into the air and away from her, thus causing him to short-circuit.

One on patrol, Mount Lady comments on Shiozaki being a promising one, and another plant user. Kamui Woods amits he wishes he could’ve seen her up close, but that they need to get back to work. 

Back in the stadium, Midnight announces Shiozaki moving on to the second round. Shiozaki is relieved to have no wasted the opportunity bestowed upon her, and the narrative finally gives us an informational blurb on her quirk. 

...A strange ending note there, but sure. Some of the crowd - or possibly Izuku? Since he’s sinking into a muttering fest right after - comments on the ‘match’ and the participants. Shiozaki’s ability to use her quirk is something else, between building walls, binding enemies… Kaminari’s quirk was no use against her. She countered him well. He might’ve had a chance if he could maneuver better, but he panicked and short-circuited after one attack.

Ochako hears muttering besides her and is a bit alarmed, looking over to see Izuku in the middle of an analysis fugue. Izuku mutters about thinking Kaminari’s quirk would be stronger, but Shiozaki got fourth in the entrance exam, and she’s the real deal. The vine moves are similar to Kamui Wood’s binding attacks, and binding types are always strong, to the point where you almost never see someone break out. It’s pretty much impossible to dodge all the vine attacks, so the only counter is to rip them apart with brute strength - ah, but to prevent that, they tend to go for the hands first.

(...and I just NOW realized that this specific commentary about binding-type quirks and the counter being brute strength is literally something that comes into play when Best Jeanist binds Gigantomachia with those steel cables during the Jakku arc. Holy shit, I don’t think Hori intended it, but what a callback. Or it’s just good worldbuilding, which would also be neat!)

Ochako eventually cuts into Izuku’s muttering - startling him in the process - by commenting on how his match just ended, but he’s already thinking ahead strategy-wise. Izuku denies it, saying that it’s just a hobby of his, and that they finally have a chance to see the quirks of people outside their class in action. He then eagerly shows her his open notebook, stating that he has everything she’d need to know about class A in there - even her ‘zero gravity’. 

Me, staring down the people who have the class unaware of the contents of Izuku’s notebooks when writing suspected traitor fics: 

Anyways! Ochako is kind of impressed despite herself, stating that she thought Izuku was amazing from the day they met, but this sports festival has brought him to a whole other level. Izuku is confused by the complement, but there’s no time to ask, since Present Mic is announcing the participants of the next battle: Tenya versus Hatsume.

Some of the students are chattering about how the match is going to go, with one asking what is that - which seems to be referring to the support items Tenya is wearing? Midnight comments on it as well, noting that they’re forbidden for hero course students, and that a special request has to be put in for those things beforehand. Tenya admits he forgot, seeing as Aoyama was wearing that belt of his. Midnight reminds him that Aoyama applied for an exception.

Tenya apologies, stating that he’d been touched by Hatsuma’s sense of sportsmanship. Although she’s a member of the support course, she came to him and said that if they’re to be seen as equals, then they should fight on equal footing. She gave those items to him; her earnest spirit… he could never look down on it. That was his thinking. 

Midnight apparently is now all for this, calling Tenya naive. Mic says that it’s good enough for him, and Aizawa says that if both parties are fine with it, he supposes it can be allowed… right? Izuku, up in the stands, is looking concerned, wondering if Hatsume is really the type to offer that. Hatsume, of course, is chuckling as she flips down a microphone right as the match starts.

Mei immediately starts going into her spiel, commenting on Tenya’s speed - much to the confusion of both Mic and Tenya. She then points out how Tenya’s legs should feel lighter than usual, and that that’s what one can expect with her custom leg parts, which keep up with their user’s speed! However, dodging is no problem for her with her hydraulic attachment bars! Which she deploys just before Tenya reaches her, causing him to trip over one of the bars and flail.

Mei checks for where the support companies were seated, her quirk zeroing in on the faces she’s looking for - which, to her pleasure, are eating her words up.

Tenya catches himself and spins on his heels, wondering what she’s going. Hatsume complements it, noting how her auto-balancer makes those sorts of tight movements possible. Meanwhile, up in the announcement booth, Mic and Aizawa are both so put out, with Aizawa facepalming and calling her a born saleswoman. 

The game of tag, along with a completely play-by-play sales pitch, goes on for another ten minutes. Eventually, however, Hatsume steps over the line, sweating but proud of managing to get through everything she wants to show off. Midnight states that Tenya’s moving on to the second round, while Tenya is just in despair at the deception.

Ah, the face of someone with zero shame. Hatsume gives a completely insincere apology for using Tenya, which Tenya replies to by stating his extreme dislike of her. 

Izuku is also a bit dismayed as he notes that Tenya is just too serious, so it wasn’t hard for her to get him to play her game, and that at least she’s honest about her under-handed methods to get what she wants. Ochako herself is looking a bit down as she gets up, quietly noting to Izuku that she should get to the prep room. Izuku notes that she left her still-full drink behind, glancing back to her in concern as she walks away.

As other matches run in the background, we shift over to prep room two, which Tenya is just entering. Ochako, already waiting in there, tells him good which, which startles him out of his funk as he recognizes her. Of course, the first thing he notes is her furrowed brows, which Ochako admits is probably from her being a bit nervous, and how it’s probably showing on her face. Tenya remembers her match is against Katsuki, and Ochako admits that she’s really scared. But, seeing Tenya out there, she…

Well, before she can finish her thought, Izuku bursts into the room. Ochako is confused, since he should be out there watching the other matches. Tenya to the side asks about the story behind the support girl. Izuku ignores the latter, telling Ochako that another two matches are already over, and now Kirishima and some class 1b guy are duking it out. Mina managed to damage Aoyama’s belt, he panicked, and she knocked him out with an uppercut to the chin. Then Tokoyami won his match in a flash - he didn’t give Momo the time to use the objects she made… he’s one of the strongest guys here in a one-on-one. Ochako realizes this means her match is up soon, her heart pounding in her chest.

Tenya can’t imagine that Katsuki would give it his explosive all against a female opponent, but Izuku cuts in, staring very firmly that Katsuki will. Everyone is competing here with the dream of becoming number one. No one’s holding back - Katsuki least of all. However, Ochako’s already helped Izuku so much, so he thought he might return the favor…

He really just stores his notebooks anywhere he can. What a legend. He offers the notebook, stating that Ochako needs a counter-strategy against Katsuki - one that uses her quirk. He came up with it on the fly, but it might work! Tenya is relief, stating how fortunate Ochako is. Ochako thanks Izuku, but says that it’s okay. Both Izuku and Tenya are startled by the reply. 

Ochako states how amazing Izuku is, and how he does amazing stuff all the time. During the cavalry battle, she thought the easiest strategy woul be to team up with friends. But when she thinks about it, she was just putting her faith in Izuku. That’s why Tenya said ‘I challenge you’ and all that, which left her feeling a little embarrassed about herself. 

She pushes herself to her feet, moving past them to get to her match as she says thanks, but no thanks. Everyone here is fighting for their futures, so doesn’t that make them all rivals? That’s why she’ll see him in the finals!

Ochako, sweetie…

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu knock each other out at the same time. Present Mic comments on the mirror image quirk matchup, and how the winner is… neither! They have a tie, since both are down. Midnight clarifies that in the event of a tie, they’ll determine the winner after the two recover, probably with an arm wrestling match or the like. The crowds comment on how they’re equal in strength, and how that was great though. They kind of hotbloodedness would be a great morale boost, and how they’re desirable as sidekicks. 

Shouto watches on as the final two contestants of the first round enter the arena. Tsuyu states her worries about the match, and Jirou addson how she doesn’t want to watch it. Izuku quietly hopes for Ochako to do her best. 

And so the final match is announced: Ochako versus Katsuki.

And with that, volume four is done! I’ll be getting up the character sheet first, and then digging into the bonus material. Hopefully y’all enjoy!

[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3