#it's so clearly just retaliative behavior. so childish

[borderlineclown]

blaming me for your own actions is childish and honestly manipulative

[dinarosie]

Please do not change the characters based on personal preferences and instead see them as written:

I see bizarre fan theories and headcanons about Severus Snape every day that never happened in the books. The problem is, these headcanons are repeated so often that some Harry Potter fans believe them and forget that they are just fan fiction and not the truth. Therefore, I am sharing this old interview with Rowling to remind of some facts.

1. Like many insecure, vulnerable people (such as Wormtail),Snape craved membership in something big and powerful, something impressive: It’s interesting that 17 years have passed since Rowling's response, yet many people still believe Snape joined the Death Eaters because he was a sadistic, racist, antisocial person who wanted to harm people and use dark magic to destroy Muggles and Muggle-borns.!!! However, the writer believes Snape's goal was not to kill and torture Muggle-borns, nor was it racism. He was a poor, insecure, and damaged youth who had never known security or peace in his life. His childhood was a nightmare, and his adolescence was filled with humiliation and bullying. He was seeking acceptance and thought that becoming a Death Eater would give him power, attractiveness, and a family that he never had. However, it is clear that these factors led him to make a big mistake.

2. He never really understood Lily's aversion: Severus Snape didn’t want to harm or retaliate against her. He was simply blinded and misled, so foolish and ignorant that he didn’t realize how deep and serious Lily’s hatred for dark magic and the Death Eaters was. He believed that becoming a Death Eater would make him so powerful and captivating that Lily would be influenced and change her beliefs, convinced that dark magic was extremely attractive, potent, and intriguing.

3. Given his time over again, he would not have become a Death Eater: This sentence shows that he has truly changed. Rowling claims that if Snape had a second chance, he would never join the Death Eaters again. Snape's genuine regret is that, starting at the age of 20, he attempted to make amends for his past actions until the time of his death. He refused to make the same mistake again, unlike Wormtail, who eagerly returned to serve Voldemort when given the opportunity.

4. Like Snape, Harry is flawed and mortal: Do those who see Snape as the story's villain and an unforgivable character understand that, in the author's opinion, Harry is also like Snape? Do they understand that Harry can be flawed and potentially harm others? Harry is never described as a saint. He tortures someone and uses unforgivable curses; he can be arrogant and aggressive while remaining brave and heroic. Snape is flawed and mortal, just like Harry. He makes many mistakes, but in the end, he remains brave and self-sacrificing, and, like Harry, he saves many people's lives.

5. James always suspected Snape harbored deeper feelings for Lily, which was a factor in James' behavior toward Snape: Listen, this is one of the reasons James Potter had for bullying Severus Snape for seven years. Please refrain from saying things like, “Snape was bullied because he joined the Death Eaters” or “because he was interested in dark magic,” as none of these reasons are canonical. These reasons belong to James Potter’s fans, not James Potter himself. The author of the book has clearly explained James Potter’s motives. James Potter had two childish reasons for tormenting a person for many years:

_He existed (in a way that was ugly and poor). _He was close friends with Lily Evans.

6. It was Voldemort's attempted murder of Kreacher that really turned him: Isn't a change to save a living being's life familiar? I don't understand why Snape's change for Lily's salvation is seen as demonic motivation, whereas Regulus's change for Kreacher is considered epic. Recently, in fan fiction, Regulus has become the little knight of the Black family, whose parents tortured him so much that he is forced to join the Death Eaters and then rebel against Voldemort's ideology to eradicate racism in the wizarding world. But Snape's efforts, sacrifices, loyalty, and spying over the course of 19 years are reduced to being a loser obsessed with a dead woman!!! Such double standards are embarrassing. I'm curious: If Regulus Black were not Sirius Black's brother and not from a pureblood family, and Voldemort had killed Kreacher while Regulus survived and fought Voldemort, how would fans react to Regulus? How ridiculous would it be to say, "Oh, Regulus Black? He is simply a deviant who was obsessed with his dead elf"?

"Please do not change the characters based on personal preferences and instead see them as written. The writer uses Lily's and Kreacher's salvation as symbols of redemption to demonstrate the characters' growth and maturation. If the concept of love, loyalty, and friendship has changed over time among new generations, this is not the fault of Severus Snape."

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐱/𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝)

Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong was already frustrated. He was on a deadline to finish up a song and he was nowhere near even getting halfway. Eden had just recently scolded him and he felt extremely agitated and irritated at this point.

"Hey Joong? I brought you lunch so-"

"Just leave it on the table, I'll eat it later." He cut you off rather sharply, barely even sparing you a glance.

"I was actually thinking we could eat together." You were off put by his short temper.

"I don't have time Y/N." He huffed out, a hand running through his hair.

You were pissed at this point and were not about to take his crap anymore.

"Exactly! You don't have time for me anymore! I get your job demands a lot of your time, but to not even take a break and enjoy just 10 minutes without....these." You gestured to all the mess scattered around his desk.

Hurt about being reminded about his neglect of you yet angry at being scolded once more, Hongjoong slammed his hands on the table, swiftly pushing off the chair before going over to where you were standing and stared you down.

"All right. Fine. 10 minutes you say? I can work with that."

Without a warning, he pushed you onto the couch, making a quick work of your pants and stripping them off you. You let out a sharp cry when he began devouring your pussy, animalistic growls spilling out his lips as he slurped you up as if he'd been starved. When you tried pulling away, he landed a harsh slap on your clit, making your hips jolt up and a shriek come out.

"Shut up and take what I give you you needy desperate whore. You wanted 10 minutes? Let's see how many times I can make you cum in that time."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Hearing the front door slam, Seonghwa brace himself for yet another one of your moods after a long day at work. Wanting to help your day be less stressful, he had prepared you some of your favorites food.

"Y/N." He called out to you in a sing song tone.

Stomping over, you just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, total resting bitch face plastered on.

"I made your favorite." He happily told you, but you still didn't seem to bat an eyelash at him, you simply turned around and began walking out.

"Wait Y/N come on. Here at least try some. It'll help you with your stress-"

"Can't you take a damn hint Seonghwa?! I don't fucking want it!"

When he tried to approach you with a spoonful of food, you actually snapped and slapped it out of his hand, making it stain his perfectly polished floor. Seonghwa looked at it then looked back at you.

"You know Y/N I think I put up with your bratty attitude and bitchy behavior for too long."

You gasped sharply when he suddenly turned you around and slammed you up against the table, grabbing your arms so he could hold them behind your back.

"Maybe I've been a little too nice to you....making you baths, preparing you food, all in hopes of helping you release stress....but its clear a little bitch like you doesn't need that."

You squirmed under his grasp, trying to get free but with no use as his grip was tight on you. The sound of him unbuckling his belt made you stop moving entirely, and you shivered when pulled your skirt up before ripping your tights and pushing your underwear to the side.

"Clearly a bitch like you needs a good pounding, fuck that attitude right out of you."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You knew you were screwed the instant Yunho roughly pulled you off Mingi's lap and took you into his room, shutting the door right behind him before staring at you with fire burning through his eyes. You had never seen him so mad before.

No soon afterwards, you were currently on top of him, his hips bucking up at you at a relentless pace that had you screaming his name over and over again. His hands were practically digging into your skin, holding tightly onto you with such ferocity.

"Look at you, being so desperate for a good fuck that you'd actually try and whore yourself out to my best friend like a cheap bitch."

When one of his hands came up to grasp at your throat, you were shivering on top of him.

"Weren't you?! What! Is my cock not enough for you? My cock and these hands you love so much not satisfying you anymore? Hmm? Is that why you were all cuddled up to Mingi? Hoped he'd actually take pity and fuck you?"

You knew it wasn't your intention to make him jealous, but god if this is what jealousy did to him, you would totally do it again.

"Stupid slut. Mingi's not going to fuck you. You're just a dirty, filthy hole, he doesn't want you...."

Even after you came, you were still a crying mess as Yunho kept fucking up into you, not caring that you were beyond your limit, your inner thighs getting sore.

"But you're my little hole for me to fuck. Got it? And if I need to fuck you dumb to get it through that stupid useless brain of yours to understand that only I can make you feel this good, then so be it. I'll fuck you til you break, my little sex toy."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang was not very pleased by your behavior lately. You had been giving him the silent treatment and avoiding him for no good reason. Trying to coax what was wrong out of you, he came up behind you as you were washing dishes.

"How's my little princess? Did you have a good day?"

He was only met with you elbowing him in the rib and shoved him off you.

"Ok seriously Y/N? What did I even do? Stop being so childish and talk to me like a mature adult."

Hearing you scoff and seeing you roll your eyes at him made him furious and irritated with you. As you tried to walk past him, he grabbed your elbow and picked you up, setting you down on the kitchen counter as his eyes burned a hole through you.

"If you're going to keep acting like a brat, maybe I should just treat you like one then."

You don't know if you truly regret breaking Yeosang's patience. On the one hand, you were definitely not going to be walking straight for a week. On the other, you utterly enjoyed having your face pressed against the pillow, ass up as Yeosang was shoving his dick in and out of you, red handprints scattered across your butt cheeks and hands tied behind your back with one of his ties. Everytime you tried to hide your face in the pillow to muffle your screams, he'd yank your hair up.

"I said I wasn't having you ignore me anymore princess. Now come on, scream my name. I want this entire floor to hear your pathetic whimpers."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San looked at you with an unamused gaze.

"Repeat what you just said.....I dare you to."

He was pissed off, it was more than clear. But maybe that's what you wanted, wanted him to be as pissed as you were, even just a bit of what you were feeling. It's not that you meant to take out your jealousy on him, but seeing his co-host be extremely clingy towards him backstage and he never did anything about it made your blood boil.

"I said you're nothing more than a fucking horn dog. Probably let that skank suck your dick." You exclaimed in disgust.

The sudden slam of his hand against the wall behind you both scared and thrilled you. Looking at you with a hungry smirk, he opened the door behind you, trapping you inside a closet. In minutes, he was pressing you against the wall, his frantic grunts mixing with your whimpered cries. San would occasionally let out a sadistic laugh at how wrecked you look.

"You're right baby, I am indeed a horn dog. Absolutely love getting my dick wet and fuck a pussy all the time."

Hand reaching between your legs, he began to harshly pinch and rub at your clit, his other hand that was holding onto your hip keeping you from collapsing on the floor as your orgasm took over you.

"But get this straight: I only fuck this pussy right here. Ok? I fucking claimed this a long ass time ago and I'll fuck it whenever I want to."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Ending the call with your friend, you were coming out of the bedroom when you were suddenly shoved back inside by none other than your usually caring and sweet boyfriend, who looked angry as he closed the door behind him.

"Mingi? What-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as his large hands cupped your cheeks, his long body pushing you back until you landed on the bed. He was kissing you harshly, nothing like the usual tender and loving kisses he'd be known to give you. His hands clutched at your covered breasts, groping at them before he unexpectedly tore your shirt in the middle.

"Mingi! What has gotten into you?!" You exclaimed in shock at his sudden change in behavior.

"I heard you talking to your friend. Saying shit like I'm too soft and vanilla for you."

You moaned out when he began to suck along your neck, his hands cupping your bra and pulling it down enough to have your breasts spill out.

"Oh princess if only you knew I've just been holding back all this time."

With a taunting chuckle, he pulled of you. Undoing his zipper, he began to strip out of his jeans and briefs, letting his long cock spring free, precum leaking at the tip.

"I didn't want to be selfish and break you like I wanted too....... but if that's what you want well then, I'd be happy to oblige my little princess."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Neither of you knew how it started nor exactly how it escalated. One minute Wooyoung was being the annoying shit he was, with you playfully shoving him away and calling him names, and then the next you were both pushing each other rather abruptly. When you called him a particularly degrading insult, he retaliated likewise and now it seemed like a screaming match between you two.

"You know what? This is fucking stupid!" You hollered and turned away, making a bee line towards your room.

"I'm not done yet!" Wooyoung trailed after you.

"Well I am! Now excuse me, I'm going to go take a shower and hopefully cool off this rage." You stated firmly before slamming the bathroom door right in his face.

The refreshing water seemed to calm you down a little, so you just stood there under the shower head, just letting your body soak in the cold. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you failed to notice Wooyoung had entered the bathroom and didn't realize it until you felt his arms turn you around to face him. No explanation, he just began kissing you, his tongue taking control over your mouth while one hand hiked one of your legs over his waist.

"Still think I'm an annoying bastard?" He grunted fiercely as he thrusted up into you, not giving you time to react as he began pounding into you.

"Yes you are!" You hissed at him, hands swooping his wet hair and tugging at it rather hardly.

He just looked at you with a shit eating grin.

"Yet you still let me fuck you. "

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You were frustrated and stressed out, so was Jongho. Even as you two did your own little things inside the apartment, even the smallest things either of you did made the other let out an annoyed huff. It all culminated when Jongho accidentally spilled his cup of juice on the floor, that little action had you both looking at each other with near contempt.

"I feel like punching something." Jongho confessed.

"Me too." You admitted.

"Wanna punch me?" He offered.

Smirking at him, you thought about something better.

"No.... I think I'd rather fuck you."

So now here you were, underneath your inhumanely strong boyfriend, his cock balls deep inside you, your legs thrown over his shoulders while his hands were already leaving bruises around your inner thighs from how hard he was squeezing at them. You two had already cum several times but you still kept going, pushing past your sensitivity as you both still had a lot of rage and energy to release.

In a particularly sharp angle of his hips, you were quivering under Jongho, for the first time you were actually squirting under him.

"Oh fuck!" Seeing you break down and make a mess all over him and yourself had him cumming soon after, his body collapsing on top of yours.

Both of you were beyond exhausted after all that. Your bodies were so sticky with sweat and your breathing had not yet returned to normal. Looking over at you, Jongho smiled sincerely for the first time in days.

"So.... now that we got that out of the way.... can we cuddle?"

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[erzaguin]

Huntmira After: Chapter 2

This is also available in Wattpad and Ao3.

“I’m scared,” mumbled Steve. “The look in her eyes is really unsettling.” 

"Why does she keep side eyeing us?"

"I don't think she's looking at us."

“Her laugh is creeping me out. I don't know how much longer I can take this.”

“Captain, maybe you should say something” suggested one of the guards in a hushed tone. 

It had been hours since the masquerade ball had ended. All of the guests had already left and they had been assigned with clean up duty with Kikimora supervising them. Although currently all of the guards were feeling extremely uncomfortable due to her current behavior.

She kept mumbling under her breath too fast and low for them to make out what she was saying. She kept looking around almost like she was expecting someone to jump out at her. She had an almost crazed look in her eyes which made her sudden bursts of laughter seem maniacal. The guards were afraid that she had finally lost it and would randomly attack one of them.

The captain looked at the other guards who looked completely disheveled by their commander's odd behavior. She let out a sigh before making her way to Kikimora. She was responsible for every individual in her unit which also included Kikimora. It was her duty to make sure everyone was ok no matter how much she didn't want to.

She cleared her throat to get Kikimora's attention "Ma'am…"

“Hehehe this is so wonderful?! The Golden Guard made a complete fool of himself.” giggled Kikimora “Did you see? One dance with a girl he just met and he turns into a complete fool. He was so embarrassed after I pointed out he had lipstick on his helmet that he went to hide in his room" laughed Kikimora.

So that's why she's been acting so weird. Kikimora always seems to lose herself when it comes to matters involving the Golden Guard. Though she was right about one thing after the dance the Golden Guard disappeared and nobody has seen him since. 

 "After tonight I’m sure Emperor Belos will realize how incompentet that  brat is and how I am clearly far superior." gleed Kikimora who looked to be doing a little jig. "You'll see that come tomorrow I'll be promoted!"

Hunter

"I can't believe that happened. Wait what if it didn't happen and it was all in my head" mumbled Hunter to himself as he continued pacing back and forth in his room. 

It had already been some time since the ball had ended and he still had a hard time believing that he had spent most of the night dancing with Em. He couldn't help but blush whenever he recalled the events of the night. 

"I can't believe I kissed her" the sudden realization almost completely filled him with dread. 

"What if she thinks I'm a creep now? She's probably mad at me," he was interrupted by a chirping sound coming from the small red feathered bird sitting on his bed.

Hunter's expression visibly softened at the sound of his companion. 

"You're right she did kiss me back," he said as he smiled to himself. "I still can't believe you tagged along."

In response he received more chirping sounds from his small friend. The little rascal had followed Hunter without him noticing. It wasn't until he had jumped on Hunter's head to meet Emira that he found out he had tagged along. Apparently he has been very excited to meet her after hearing Hunter speaking about her.

"You and I need to have a conversation about boundaries some time" noted Hunter as he took a seat on the bed next to his friend. 

". . .So do you think she likes me?" asked Hunter looking down at his boots so his friend couldn't see his eyes.

The question earned him a sharp peck to the head from his companion who seemed to be angry at Hunter's self doubt. He had never really liked seeing Hunter being down and now that he could understand him he made no attempt to hold back his opinions.

"Ouch ok I get it no need to be so aggressive." said Hunter as he nursed his head. 

His companion settled back down on the bed and started chirping away. Scolding Hunter for doubting Emira’s feelings for him especially after tonight. 

He had to give it to the little guy he really knew how to get through to him. He really helped in keeping negative thoughts away. 

Hunter took a deep breath to steady himself and released it. "You're right buddy, thanks," he said as he gave the little bird a gentle pat on his head. 

Just then there was a sudden knock on the door which sent the little palisman into hiding. It was important that nobody found out about the palisman. If Emperor Belos where to find him no Hunter did not even want to think about that. 

"Who is it?" responded Hunter after making sure his friend was out of sight. 

From the other side of the door came a voice that stated "Sir Emperor Belos wishes to speak to you." Hunter relaxed once he realized it was just a guard. 

Even though he had already changed into his regular uniform hours ago he still made sure that he looked presentable before stepping towards the door. If he was going to meet with Emperor Belos he had to make sure that everything was in order.

 Hunter opened the door to find one of the guards standing there doing his best not to make eye contact with him. "Thanks you are dismissed" said Hunter in an authoritative tone.

The guard, who seemed to have been startled by Hunter opening the door forcefully and closing it quickly behind him, gave Hunter an awkward solute before scurrying off. What can you expect even if he was young he was still Emperor Belos' right hand man. A lot of the guards felt intimidated being in his presence and Hunter’s deminor did not help to ease their nerves about him. 

As Hunter made his way to his uncle's throne room he kept thinking about how upset he must be. He was not surprised that his uncle had called for him. In fact he had been expecting it. He had completely disappeared after his first dance with Emira and never came back to his post. 

"Way to fo Hunter he probably thinks you were too embarrassed to come back out" thought Hunter to himself as he came face to face with the doors of his uncle's room. He was about to knock on the door before stopping. In that instant he was completely consumed by the sudden sense of dread. The realization that Emperor Belos might be angry at him had just hit him. He could be in serious trouble. What if he retaliated against Emira? He knew who she was? If his uncle was mad enough at him he could do it and get away with it. No, he had to make sure to keep her safe. Even if it meant never being able to see her again. 

He was brought back by the sound of the door in front of him opening. The small surge of defines he had felt at the thought of Emira getting hurt was completely overtaken by the fear he felt at that moment. 

“Come in Hunter” came a voice from inside the room.

Hunter hesitated for a moment before making his way inside and closing the door behind him.

“Come let me take a good look at you” said Belos as he becond his nephew forward. He was not wearing his mask anymore. He was dressed in his casual robes which was rare to see. Hunter always felt more comfortable speaking to his uncle when he did not have the mask on so seeing him now made his nerves settle a little. He made his way forward to his uncle who placed his hands on his shoulders. 

“So, you had your first kiss” noted Belos with a warm smile on his face and an almost childish joy in his eyes. Hunter felt his face grow warm and found himself at a loss for words. But just as fast he felt the blood drain out of his body.. Was he teasing him? How did he know that he had kissed Emira? Ed had created an illusion so that nobody could see them. How did he know? Did he see? Does he know about my palisman too? 

“I would not have thought you would have become smitten after just one dance and a kiss on your helmet” teased his uncle. “You know after that dance you disappeared but I couldn’t help but notice that so did she. Tell me, did you return to the party?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

If someone were to enter the room at this moment  they might have interrupted this as a tender moment between him and his uncle but the tension Hunter was feeling was so intense he could hardly breath. He was not sure if the kiss his uncle meant was the one Emira had given him in front of everyone. How much did his uncle know? Lying to him would be dangerous especially if he knew more than what he was letting on. Besides, Hunter had never been able to lie to him. 

“I..um… yes I did” started Hunter feeling his face growing hot again. “I wanted to ask her to dance not as the Golden Guard but as Hunter.” he mumbled, unable to make eye contact with his uncle. “Her brother created an illusion to keep us concealed and we ended up dancing for the rest of the night.” Hunter tried to focus all of his concentration on keeping his breathing steady.

“I see well I am glad that you followed my order to have fun” he said, placing a hand on Hunter's head, “but i'm sure that dancing was not the only thing you did.” added his uncle in a tone that made Hunter’s veins turn to ice. His mind was racing trying to come up with a response for his uncle but his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his uncle ruffling his hair as he let out a warm laugh. 

“So you really did get your first kiss tonight?” he continued to laugh as he made his way to take a seat on his throne. “I have to hand it to you, you really do know how to follow an order.”

Hunter was beginning to feel light headed due to the emotional whiplash. He could never read his Uncle. Talking to him always felt like he was treading through a minefield filled with live and fake bombs.

“You know when I said that I wanted for you to stay safe it was not to punish you but to keep you out of harm's way. The titan has big plans for you Hunter so until the day of unity arrives you have to stay safe. So starting tomorrow you will be reassigned.” noted Belos in a somber tone. 

“But sir,” started Hunter but stopped as soon as his uncle lifted a hand signaling silence. “As I was saying, starting tomorrow your new mission will be to find the Blight girl..." Hunter felt his heart drop at his uncle's mention of Emira. A thousand thoughts filled his head in that instant but he clenched his fists in an attempt to restrain himself.  “...and ask her out on a date.” finished Belos with a soft smile on his face.

“Sir?” Hunter’s mind was spinning. Did he hear that right? No that couldn't be. Did his uncle just order him to ask Emira on a date?  

“Who knows how many days of peace we will know once the day of unity arrives. Go enjoy the few days you have left. Now go it’s late and I need my rest.” stated Belos as he dismissed Hunter. 

“Yes Emperor Belos,” responded Hunter with a bow before quickly making his way. He walked back to his room in a daze trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was he that disappointed in him that he no longer wanted to send him on missions? Or did he honestly want to keep him safe and happy. This was very unlike his uncle and Hunter was sure that there had to be a bigger motive for his actions. 

Upon reaching his room he confided in his palisman everything that had happened with his uncle. The small bird convinced Hunter to not overthink things and to ask Emira out on a date. 

“I don't know, it doesn't feel right to just send her a message. What do you think?”

The small bird responded to this with a few chirping sounds. 

“That’s actually a really good idea. I think she would like that a lot.” noted Hunter as he took out a pen and paper to write a letter to Emira. 

Once he was done he attached the letter to the small palismans foot. 

“Ok buddy I’m counting on you.”

[inkweaver22-blr]

Four for four baby! This is perhaps the last of my daily updates as I’ll be busy the next few days. Here’s another little filler chapter but it’s a good one as it’s the first one where we directly see references to other creators’ Monkie Kid works! There’s three references here, two subtle and one explicit. I’ll make sure to have links to each work in the notes at the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Four: Childish Behavior

Tang often feels like the only adult surrounded by children. Literally sometimes.

----------

If there was one thing Tang had learned about these timelines he kept jumping between was that they were consistently inconsistent.

The minor details that changed randomly but never really affected the outcome of the events from his original time were still abundant and rarely phased him much anymore.

(Although that one time he had platinum blonde hair had been interesting.)

It was when entirely unique situations arose that the scholar was caught off guard.

New events sprung up every now and then and inserted themselves between the original ones. As with the smaller changes, these new scenarios were unpredictable and varied wildly in scope.

A surprisingly durable MK clone that somehow managed to escape being dispelled, gaining independence, and becoming Macaque’s apprentice.

An ocean demon sinking ships just outside the bay and Sandy getting to go on that water adventure he wanted.

MK’s birth parents trying to reinsert themselves back into his life after seeing his achievements on the news.

(Tang was so incredibly proud of his kid for standing up for himself and refusing their empty platitudes. The pranks that he, Mei, and the Monkey King had pulled on them in retaliation were great stress relievers.)

Since Tang could still do his best to help out in each new event without horrible consequences, it seemed the rule of “No Interference” did not apply to them. He supposed that made sense as he had no way to predict when or if they might occur and thus couldn’t change an outcome he didn’t know about.

He was grateful for that small mercy at least.

Still, with how these cycles seemed to be endless so far, a few of these events would happen over multiple timelines.

Getting de-aged by a mischievous trickster demon or spirit was a strangely common occurrence.

MK seemed to be the most popular target for this particular curse. The brightness of his personality seemed to shine even stronger whenever he was reverted into a child, which simply made Tang love the kid even more.

(He wished he could have helped the Monkey King tear Macaque apart for kidnapping their precious little one in that cycle.)

They all had their own turns of having their biological clocks reversed of course. Mei was a little trouble maker, Pigsy was a shy and timid toddler, and Sandy liked to have things he could break apart. Tang couldn’t clearly remember the times he had been de-aged but was pleased when an exhausted Mei and Mk had said he was the easiest of the adults-turned-kids to take care of.

Then there was the Monkey King.

Having to corral a rambunctious young monkey with the strength to crush boulders and the ability to duplicate or shapeshift was not easy.

(He still had no idea how MK had managed to do it alone once.)

With the amount of times they had all been subjected to this specific curse, Tang only really had himself to blame for not seeing it coming.

Tang poured over the scroll in front of him, trying to find the counter for this timeline’s version of the curse. Behind him, Mei distracted a de-aged Red Son, or Red Boy as that’s what the small fire demon was calling himself.

Getting kidnapped by a somewhat feral child with the ability to freely toss around the True Fire of Samadhi hadn’t been the most pleasant start to his day. While being mistaken as the monk Tang Sanzang was a little flattering, the threat of being roasted over the sacred blume flames and eaten had quickly dampened those feelings.

Luckily the young demon had fallen asleep, the fires dissipating as he lost consciousness. If only Tang knew how to cast the Monkey King’s fire ward...

“Ahem.”

Tang glanced up and paled at the sight of a displeased looking Demon Bull King.

“Little thief,” the demon addressed an equally freaked-out MK. “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Father! You’re here,” Red Boy called out as he jumped from Mei’s arms. “I have wonderful news! I’ve found a husband!” He quickly ran over to a petrified MK and leaned against him like he was presenting some great treasure. “Look! Look! Isn’t he pretty?”

Tang had almost forgotten about that particular detail. If they got out of this alive he was never going to let MK live this down for the rest of the cycle. Prerogative of being a dad and all.

“What do you think father,” Red Boy continued, ignoring MK’s desperate plea for him to stop. “I can marry him, right?”

DBK’s expression was frankly unimpressed as he stared down into the hopeful one Red Boy wore. Tang had a bad feeling about what was going to happen and slowly made his way around the room to hide behind MK and Mei who were also backing away.

“No.”

Tang winced a bit at the bluntness of the answer and braced himself for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“What? But… why? WHY NOT?!”

The genuine hurt and confusion in the young demon’s voice would have made Tang feel a bit sympathetic, if Red Boy hadn’t tried to eat him of course.

“Because I said so,” DBK growled as he knelt to be closer to his de-aged son. “Now, enough of this. Time to stop being a child.”

Tang frowned. That was... not how to calmly explain to one’s child about why you were refusing their request. Not if you wanted to avoid a full-on meltdown. He should know, having to take care of a young MK multiple times.

Looking into the Demon Bull King’s scowling visage, he wasn’t sure if the older demon simply didn’t know how, or just didn’t care.

“That’s… NOT FAIR!” Red Boy’s disbelief predictably turned into anger as his hair once again burst into blue flames.

“THAT’S NOT FAIR! I am not a child!” The True Fire of Samadhi burst out around the boy, seeming to startle DBK who took a step back. Tang was just thankful that it wasn’t aimed at him this time.

“I… I’m not-” Red Boy’s anger quickly melted away, as did the fire around him. The young demon sniffed a few times before dropping onto the ground and beginning to cry.

Loudly.

“You’re recording this, right?” MK whispered to Mei.

“Obviously.”

Tang sighed at their antics and looked over at DBK. The demon still looked angry but the scholar could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He seemed completely out of his depth and unsure on what to do.

Tang took a steadying breath before mustering his courage and stepping out from behind MK. If Demon Bull King didn’t know how to act like a good father then perhaps he could show him.

If he survived this he was going to need a vacation to fight back against the grey hairs this was going to give him.

The other adults all looked at him as if he had sprouted another head as he approached the sobbing child and knelt next to him.

“Red Boy?”

“H-huh?” The young demon looked up in confusion at being addressed.

“I know that right now everything seems pretty unfair and that can be upsetting,” Tang soothed, keeping his voice steady and reassuring. “But I promise you that your father has a good reason for not letting you marry MK. Would it help if he were to calmly explain that reason without getting angry at you?” He aimed that last sentence more at DBK than Red Boy, who’s sobs had slowed.

“M-maybe…” the young demon finally admitted.

Tang turned to stare expectantly at the Demon Bull King. The demon glared down at the scholar.

“Why are you treating him like a child?”

The harshness of his tone made Red Boy start to tear up again. Tang glared right back at DBK.

“Because right now, until we can reverse this, he is a child,” the scholar snapped, his fear replaced with righteous anger. “And like every child, he deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. He deserves to be comforted by a parent whom he obviously adores and be told that it’s okay to cry. He deserves to feel safe and loved.”

The room was silent save for the hiccups and sniffles from Red Boy as they all stared at Tang. DBK’s mouth hung open as he gazed incredulously down at the human, seemingly struck speechless.

“F-father?”

The small and unsure voice of Red Boy snapped the Demon Bull King out of his thoughts, and something seemed to loosen within him.

Tang stood and retreated back to MK and Mei to give the demon some privacy as he knelt next to his son and began speaking in a hushed tone with him.

“What the hell Mr. Tang,” MK hissed into his ear as he stared wide eyed at the pair of demons on the ground.

“Language MK,” Tang hissed right back before leaning over to Mei. “I know you aren’t recording two incredibly powerful demons having a moment of vulnerability who would stop at nothing to destroy us if they discovered the existence of such a video, right?”

“Eep!” Mei nearly dropped her phone as she rushed to stop her recording and then delete the last few minutes of the resulting video.

There were a few minutes of tense silence as the three humans did their best to pretend that there weren’t two demons having an emotional moment together just a few feet away. They gave a sigh of relief when Red Boy launched himself at his father, wrapping his arms around his neck. DBK seemed panicked at first before slowly wrapping his own arms around the young demon.

Tang adjusted his glasses and gave a nervous smile to the Demon Bull King who was scrutinizing him like a particularly confusing puzzle.

At least he didn’t seem angry any more.

Perhaps they would escape this fiasco unscathed after all.

----------

I was not expecting this chapter to turn into another Dad Tang story. It just kind of happened that way. So onto the references!

First is Durability by TaintTheUnstoppable which is beginning to shape up into something really interesting.

Second is Little One by @its-kall-the-clown which is just a huge fluff fest capped off with some nice angst. Highly recommended.

Finally we have the Red Boy comic by @purble-turble! Now obviously the Tang in their comic probably won’t do what this one did, by this Tang is too much of a Dad to let a little kid cry for too long.

Next chapter won’t be up until sometime next week! See ya then!

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Experiences Culture Shock

The Hannya of the Gracey and its Kitsune.

Tricky, cruel, deceptive, jealous, ungrateful.

That’s what you’ve been called ever since Nanji settled. It’s been whispered behind your backs and said outright to your faces.

Ever since Chichiue told you to take a more appropriate form if you both were going to eat dinner properly with the family, and his eyebrows drew down when you stuttered out that you were trying, you were, but Nanji couldn’t change back from the red fox that quailed under the glare of Chichiue’s eagle.

You were sent to their room in the middle of the meal because of that, Asahiko-nii-sama’s exaggerated faces of disgust, Leota-nee-sama’s quiet yet smug vindication and Enji-nii-sama’s open glares of disapproval following you both as you left.

Seven isn’t an…uncommon age for a dæmon to settle. Unusual, to be sure, enough to raise and lower eyebrows, prompt the start of a inquiry before the asker remembers which family they’re about to question.

But it’s just edging into more common for “early bloomers” that it’s usually assumed that you were closer to eight than seven when Nanji did settle. Besides, there are kids out there who have had their dæmons settle at younger ages, after all.

All the studies you’ve read say this phenomenon is near uniformly a result of a traumatic event or hostile living environment. But that’s probably more of a generalization than anything.

Still. At least the names and insults weren’t so bad. They were just words after all.

At least the people using them would steer clear. Keep at least a two foot distance between themselves, the Hannya of the Gracey, and its Kitsune. As though you and Nanji actually had any power to curse anyone with.

At least they wouldn’t try to keep fucking touching your dæmon every five minutes.

So pause. Rewind a bit. You and Nanji and your old middle school crush and his dæmon (who you’ve certainly gotten over, and who does not look any better than he had in middle school now his Sonata has settled, thank you very much) have been transported to another world. This world is called Twisted Wonderland.

The people of this world are soulless assholes.

Because none of them have dæmons.

And the vast majority of them you have met so far are assholes, in some shape or form.

You have yet to ascertain whether the latter is dependent on the former.

And yet they keep acting like normal people in spite of this absence, rather than the traumatized wrecks that are in textbooks in history class, all dead-eyed and unresponsive. So maybe there’s something to the headmaster’s claim that their dæmons are…inside them, somehow.

Though that just gives you the awful mental image of a person lifting a mouse or an insect dæmon to their lips and just…swallowing. Nanji nips your hand for putting that lovely idea in both your heads.

But back to the topic at hand: The people here don’t have dæmons. They have never had dæmons. So it’s understandable that initially all of them don’t quite understand that there’s a difference between them and just another talking animal, like Grim.

That it is NOT OKAY to try to scoop them up or punt them around like they do to Grim (and honestly, you’re not really okay with them doing that to Grim either— it’s why you and Yuuken trade off who has the monster cat perched on their shoulders or in their arms and out of harm’s way whenever you both can). That’s just down to cultural differences. You can understand it, if you cock your head, squint your eyes, and are very, very sleep-deprived.

What is not understandable is the assholes who think it’s hilarious to try to keep touching Sonata and Nanji even after you’ve repeatedly told them “no”.

Some of that might be Nanji’s fault. Though at the time it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea, considering how many curious would-be touchers immediately jerked away and lost interest permanently after he blurted out, “It’s a sex thing!!”

(It’s not exactly a sex thing, more of an intimacy thing at most. But there’s something much more visceral and back-the-fuck-off about “touching a dæmon is like shoving your hands down a stranger’s pants” compared to “touching a dæmon is the realization of a very deep and intimate bond between you and your partner”.)

But of course, many is not all.

And there’s always going to be some assholes who think that seeing how easily they can get away with harassment is a “fun game” rather than a creepy and messed up power play. Just like back home.

Yuuken and Sonata have it much worse than you and Nanji.

You’d thought the muskox form she settled into was noble, dignified, a perfect embodiment of Yuuken’s diligence and strength. (No, it has not made your crush on him worse, shut up.)

The only problem is that a muskox is not as small a creature as a fox. So while you can physically pick up Nanji and move him out of reach if some punks decide they want to cause trouble, poor Sonata has no such defense. She has to move away if they get between her and Yuuken, and their distance limit is so much smaller than your own, and both of them look so trapped—

It surprises everyone but Nanji and yourself when you take a page from Deuce’s book and ball your fist up to punch the asshole trying to bury his hand in the thick fur of Sonata’s flank.

The resulting crack is not from the asshole’s nose breaking, unfortunately.

You haven’t ever really punched anybody before, hadn’t ever been in a situation where you were justified in your retaliation.

Of course you manage to fuck it up on your first try.

Nanji does not thank you for the resulting limp in his one good leg until your hand and his paw heals, even if he understands why you did it. You give him lots of petting in apology, carefully avoiding the spots where his fur is now patchy and the skin is ridged with scars.

(And isn’t that a fun experience, whenever the ex-overblots’ eyes wander over him, catch sight of what they inflicted on you both, and suddenly can’t look at anything else fast enough. None of them have actually, explicitly apologized to either of you for it.)

Yuuken and Sonata hover over you both like concerned mother hens, despite how often and repeatedly you tell them this is not their fault and you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Sonata actually offers to let Nanji ride on her back while he heals.

You try joking you’d get jealous, so it’d be better not to, only for Yuuken to offer to piggyback you around campus as well.

Ace teases you mercilessly for how strangled you sound when you squeak out that that won’t be necessary, and Nanji buries his head under his tail and refuses to come out for the rest of the day.

Deuce is more concerned with teach you how to throw a punch properly, so you don’t hurt yourself next time.

Jack provides Nanji with a smaller version of the splint he sometimes uses if he hurts his paws when in Wolf Mode, which does help a bit, even if it does feel slightly surreal to feel the phantom press of the medical implement on your hand.

Grim delights in setting the assholes on fire whenever they’re within reach. Whether he can get away with it is another factor he doesn’t seem willing to take into consideration.

Crowley scolds him and the rest of Ramshackle by extension for “violent behavior on school premises”, and resorts to subtly threatening to cut off your food money whenever you try to pressure him to actually do something about your harassers, as though it’s somehow your and Yuuken’s faults for having dæmons.

As though it’s Sonata and Nanji’s faults for existing.

You resort to scribbling increasingly insulting caricatures of the stupid birdbrain headmaster for your theory wall to vent your frustration, in absence of any concrete way to get back at him. Nanji chews the cushion in your armchair to near rags as you pin them to the wall with more force than is strictly warranted.

Yuuken and Sonata turn out to be far more proactive than you when it comes to dealing with grudges of this kind.

Or, at least, more willing to go along with plans that allow them to do so.

You know Ace had a hand in it. His brand of vindictiveness and humiliation is pretty distinctive. Ortho is also clearly a culprit, thanks to the technological mishaps that had one of your tormentors in actual tears. From the garish, clashing pink and petty sparkles that have been added to Crowley’s attire, you’re fairly sure Epel was involved too.

Sebek…is a participant you’re on the fence about, for his conflicting claims that it was a childish prank to pull on the bullies and headmaster and that both parties had whatever fate they now suffered coming to them. Even if he wasn’t directly involved, you’re pretty sure he was in on it enough to not spill the details.

But the sudden influx of logs, which would require someone with an above average level of strength and/or the help of an animal that specialized in moving large burdens over distance?

Combined with the fact that Jack and Deuce were as mystified as you, Grim, and Nanji at the results of the prank?

Well, even if Yuuken hadn’t shot you a subtle wink (which most certainly did not have your cheeks heating, no sir) in Ramshackle’s kitchen while the two of you prepared dinner to the sound of Sonata’s quiet laughter, you’re pretty sure you would’ve worked it out sooner or later.

For now, you and Nanji are just glad that they’re both here with you to help navigate this Twisted Wonderland of soulless assholes.

Even if some of them aren’t as bad as the others.

[bestworstcase]

hi! I love your lost lagoon reviews :) reading the last one, I was interested in your take of Cass and Eugene's relationship in TTS, but I felt that maybe it's more nuanced than "cass makes legitimate criticism and eugene insults her"? There *are* moments which show us that Cass is not helplessly being insulted for being right, but does go out of her way to annoy Eugene (I have in mind specifically her seating him at the kids' table in BEA and the eviction letters she apparently sent him, which show that she's not only reacting but also can be unpleasant to him just for the sake of it, because she doesn't like him much at that point). It's not really a counterpoint, I do think you're right, but it read a lot as if she was helpless in their animosity, and that's not exactly how I see it, so I wanted to ask you about it more! Hope that's okay

oh yeah there’s def moments where cass acts in retaliatory ways or lashes out or loses her temper - & like i said in the post itself i don’t think she’s necessarily *bothered* by the insults per se so much as they create this cumulative dynamic where eugene has sort of blinded himself to the reality that cassandra does have feelings and that contributes to the problem, in s2, of cassandra’s relationships with *everyone* on team corona becoming very toxic for her! she’s def not like - i wouldn’t call what eugene does bullying and i wouldn’t describe cass as a victim of bullying, because she can give as good as she gets.

my point was more - i feel like tts broadly frames the conflict as a completely equitable thing. in cassandra vs eugene, the whole conflict begins when: 1. eugene asks cass to borrow her halberd, 2. cass says no, 3. eugene takes it anyway and shaves with it and purposely leaves his hair all over it so that cass will KNOW he messed with her stuff after she explicitly told him not to, 4. cass blows up at him, and 5. eugene escalates the argument by telling her she shouldn’t be upset because she should have known he wouldn’t listen when she said no. but - rapunzel’s point of view on this conflict is “cass and eugene can’t stand each other and keep picking petty fights, they just need to spend some bonding time together!” and that point of view is ultimately validated by the narrative. it’s clear that eugene thinks he deserves an apology from cass because she got mad at him, and he’s never taken to task for this. he never apologizes for stealing her stuff, but cass goes out of his way to cover up HIS mistakes, which happened because he stole one of her weapons and screwed around with it like it was a toy.

like eugene is, clearly, demonstrably, objectively the instigator - but the narrative acts as if *cass* is equally, if not perhaps even a little more, responsible for their argument? it’s weird. anyways

then there’s the tts fandom which in general i think has a tendency to gloss over the crummy things eugene does to cass, and then turn around and say: why does cass hate him so much? why is she so mean to him? poor eugene, cass is bullying him :(

and then you get stuff like lost lagoon / the popular fanon that cass hates eugene because she has a bias against “criminals,” which, like i said, takes that tendency a step further to frame eugene as a victim of cassandra’s bigotry. it drives me nuts, because - while yes they both do jerkish things to each other, and cass is not above retaliating in petty ways - i think *overall,* eugene treats her a lot worse than she treats him, and i read her moments of pettiness as coming from a place of frustration with how unrelentingly awful this guy is to her at the beginning and hitting back at him however she can. (he is, after all, the princess’s consort and has clearly been given carte blanche to act however he wants, which limits puts a degree of restriction on how cassandra handles him - like, i don’t think she could have gone to crowley and been like “the princess’s boyfriend is harassing me, make him stop” and had that enforced in any significant way. so she puts him at the kid’s table [implication: eugene is childish and rude and doesn’t deserve to sit with the adults] and gives him fake eviction notices and finds otherwise to passive aggressively suggest he Doesn’t Belong in the palace instead.)

and of course cassandra’s pettier or passive aggressive behaviors toward him taper off even faster than does her criticism, pretty much as soon as she develops a modicum of respect for him .

also, again like i said, once they settle their differences i really don’t think cass is bothered by his insults - the snarky banter becomes part of their relationship and she makes little jokes at his expense too, like when she makes fun of his goatee in rapunzel’s enemy.

which i guess tldr my stance here isn’t cass is blameless and eugene is picking on her so much as it is eugene is an ass to her at first, and i think he is significantly nastier to her in the first few episodes of s1 than she is to him, and when she insults him it’s 95% of the time about actionable behavior, not intrinsic things, and so i read her overall hostility towards him as her going “this dude is a jerk and i’m going to treat him with the respect he deserves,” as opposed to eugene evidently not liking her because she’s “icy” or “joyless”

[catatonic-writes]

Anguish - Marco x Reader

Title: Anguish Summary: Marco is sad, you kick his butt. Takes place after the revenge war between Whitebeard Pirates and Blackbeard. Relationship: Marco x Reader Warnings: - depression, drinking - Prompt/AU: 120 words - 120 oneshots AO3 Link

"Marco, it can't go on like this." How many times would you have to talk to him? When did he finally understand that this hiding game had to stop? "Marco, please." You put one hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off immediately. For a year now he had been getting calmer and calmer, he was almost lethargic. As calm as the former vice was, even for him it was no longer normal to talk so little - you were seriously worried about him. A little more than a year ago you had suffered the fatal defeat against Blackbeard. Since then, the commanders had scattered, some even lost contact. As usual, you had been close on the Phoenix's heels and had been able to locate him after only a few weeks. He had only had a few crew members with him and they entrenched themselves on a small, deserted island. The ruins of a village were to be found there, a destroyed country in which the remains of the Whitebeard pirates hid like cowards. First they lost their father, the captain and Ace on the same day - then this devastating defeat against Blackbeard, the traitor. An enormous burden lay on Marco's shoulders, but that was no reason to sink into this gloomy mood day after day. You were pirates, it had to go on! "We can't sit around here getting drunk any longer," you growled and sparkled at him angrily. "Marco! I am talking to you!" "And I can hear you just wonderfully." He lay in the shade of the setting sun, leaning against the wall of a ruined house with a bottle of rum in his hand. "But I'm trying to ignore you." Angrily you snorted and snatched the bottle from him, which he had almost completely emptied. "Marco..." You sat down next to him and pulled your legs up to your body, put your chin down on your knees. "I know it's hard..." "Don't pretend you know what's going on inside me," he interrupted you harshly. "You're taking a lot out of yourself." "Because I'm worried about you," you protested and leaned aside a little as he tried to grab the bottle in your hand. "You've been feeling sorry for yourself for months, instead of avenging them!" "We have tried, you can see what has come out of it," Marco rumbled annoyed. One could clearly see that he did not want to talk about the defeat of the retaliation war. Every time you tried to even remotely touch on the subject, he would get angry or just leave you standing. But you didn't want to give up hope either - after all, this was Marco the Phoenix! As former vice of Whitebeards it was his duty to continue the gang and when did Marco ever throw in the towel in defeat?

"You're getting on my nerves," he finally growled at you and gave up hunting for the bottle. He leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head and watched the sunset. Did he really want to ignore you now? What a childish behavior! "If you want these back, you should be a little nicer to me," you replied and took a sip of rum - damn, he drank the very strong liquor! The drink burned in your throat and you frowned in disgust. "What else should I fight for, huh?" he asked quietly and you turned to him. With closed eyes he sat there, motionless and thoughtful. "So more of my family can die? We have it pretty good here, believe me." "And what are you gonna do on this damn island? Grow pumpkins?" you replied sarcastically and slowly very irritated. Why did he want to hide? Why did he abandon his nakama? That was not his usual way, quite the contrary. Marco had always been there for his friends, no matter what. "Maybe," he said to your suggestion with the pumpkins, even if it was only pure defiance. It was like discussing with a teenager, terrible!

"You're a coward," you finally said, had enough of his stubbornness. You stood up and knocked the dirt off your pants, but you gave him a quick look. "I am disappointed in you." "Get in line, you're not alone." He sounded not only defiant, but sad as well. Of course he was upset about the events of the past two years, but it was time to get a grip and finally make the seas unsafe again! Whether he wanted to or not, you would not love a coward. As strong as your feelings for Marco were, he wasn't himself and alone he couldn't find his way out of this depression. In the past you rarely had the chance to be there for him, but now you could prove to him how much you really loved him. "Come on." You reached out your hand to him and your gaze softened a little. "You know very well I won't stop bitching." He opened his eyes, hesitated for a moment and seemed to weigh his options. If he turned you down, you would actually bitch until his ears bled. But if, against all expectations, he should accept your help - then it was time to seriously face the past and look ahead. It would be painful, but there was simply no other way. "If you finally stop lecturing me," he grumbled in a rough voice and grabbed your hand so that you could pull him up from the floor. For a moment you stood facing each other and your heart went up. He did not let go of your hand and you did not let go of his either. How you would love to tell him that you loved him! But it was not the right place and not the right time. There were more important things to do. "You know, I really do care about you..." you said with embarrassment. You could tell him that much, but not the whole truth. He snorted in amusement and then nodded, squeezing your hand gently "I know." he said and when you looked up to him like that you could melt away. How you would like to confess it to him, but it would be wrong to take advantage of his agony. He had been in pain for months, struggling with guilt and loss. It was inappropriate to use the word love now, because he certainly didn't have a mind for that at the moment. But still he held your hand, warm skin that touched your own. "I hate it when you kick my ass..." he sighed and rumpled your hair. Laughing, you ducked away, trying to escape the insidious attack. "I'd love to do it again!" you replied and for a moment your eyes met. You saw the pain behind it, something that would have been unthinkable two years ago. But you would help him rebuild the Whitebeard Pirates, even if they were scattered all over the place and hunted down by some notable pirates. Marco could trust you, you would always be there for the man you loved. And at some point, when everything had calmed down, you could finally confess it to him.

[yandere-daydreams]

A Charles Grey/Fem!Reader (Black Butler) for an anonymous commissioner. I might’ve had to much fun with this, honestly.

Word Count: 3.5k

The first time he met you, Grey saw little more than another piece of scenery. Something nice, but ultimately unimportant. Completely and utterly forgettable.

He had visited your mansion on a job, a special request from one of the Queen’s favorite nobles. Your father was highly involved with illegal affairs, and needed to be dealt with as swiftly as possible. Something about the opium trade, or forgeries, Grey didn’t really care enough about the technicalities to pay close attention. It was just another mission, another project, another excuse to play with something weak, vulnerable and helpless. Unfortunately, due to your family’s... popularity with the working-class, the dramatics would have to be kept to a minimum.

So, he happily let his target fuss over his arrival, showing him around the estate for the better half of a day. His guilt was obvious, Grey’s suspicion only concreted by nervous stutters, anxious staff, and a forced appeal. Grey couldn’t stop himself from laughing when you were hastily called over, barely given time to introduce yourself before being unceremoniously pushed to the side in exchange for one of your more impressive siblings. You left his mind easily, only popping back in later that night.

“Earl Grey?” Your voice was heavy, weighed down by sleep and lingering exhaustion. He couldn’t blame you, no one should be awake at that hour. He’d have to be quieter next time, or get permission to take care of his target’s family as well. Your nightgown was oversized, falling over your hands and feet without restriction. You rubbed your eyes, gradually waking up. “What’s going on? Are you looking for my father?”

He ignored you, not bothering with an answer. In his defense, what was he going to say? With a sword in one hand, and the other resting on the door to the Lord’s bedroom, he couldn’t exactly explain himself. Only giving you a quick ‘nothing to worry about, go back to bed’, he brushed you off, moving to open the door. The muzzle of a gun was pressed into the back of his head before he could enter, the hammer pulled back and ‘clicked’ into place a moment later.

“I’m going to ask this one more time,” You said clearly, any illusion of a daze gone. He tried to turn around, only for you to push the muzzle against him harshly. You cursed under your breath, reaching over Grey to close the door. “What do you want with my father?”

Grey chuckled, fist clenching around the handle of his saber. Finally, something exciting. From the corner of his eye, he could just see your face. Eyes glinting with focus and adrenaline, lips pulled into a thin, straight line, turned ever-so-slightly downward at the corners. It was a look he could get used to, if he had more time. “A flintlock, how old fashioned. Are you sure you can use that, little girl?”

You shrugged, staring down the sword in his left hand. He couldn’t get to you, not before you pulled the trigger or retaliated, but that didn’t stop you from being cautious. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you were an apathetic bodyguard, rather than the pampered daughter of a wealthy Lord. “I know enough to end your life.” You paused, free hand closing around his arm. You gave it a slight tug, testing his resistance. Your movements were measured, but shaky. Hell, your gun was practically shivering now. “Drop the sword, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

“So uncivilized… your maid really ought to have taught you better.” But, Grey dropped his weapon, nearly missing your relieved sigh under the clatter of metal on wood. He felt the tension leave your body, your grip on the gun loosening but not completely going slack. You half-heartedly kicked the sword away, pulling him backward and towards the empty hallway. “Do you intend to have your way with me, dear?”

You huffed, biting your cheek at the insult. Maybe you thought you were above his antics, or liked the idea more than you wanted to let on. The latter might be worth looking into at another time. He was shoved unceremoniously towards an office, released from your hold not long after. “I think we can talk this out. If you don’t hurt anyone, I shouldn’t have to hurt you.”

At this point, he could’ve gotten away. Grey could’ve pinned you down, or gone for his sword, or wretched the pistol out of your hand, or murdered you in all sorts of mess, gruesome ways. Your confidence had faded, leaving you trembling, and more importantly, exposed. But, he didn’t. The thought flashed through his mind, hanging in the air uselessly before being discarded. 

A formerly dead-eyed, unnoticeable girl, now shoving him into a cramped room and making flimsy threats under her breath. You can’t blame him for being intrigued, can you?

It was a display of pure emotion, a poorly put-together plan to keep your loved ones alive. You didn’t know any better, and oh, Grey loved that. He loved burning time with someone who’s unable to put up a proper fight, even if that came in the form of watching you act like a hero.

He listened to your demands and let you play your little ‘interrogation’ game, answering all your questions with either sarcasm or a tone too childish to be genuine. None of it deterred you, though. You refused to let him out of your sight until the sun rose, demanding that he pack his things and leave before either of your parents woke up. Of course, your threats were paper-thin, lacking the real force that would’ve actually scared him. By the time he was in his taxi, waving you off with a bright smile and a truly concerning amount of enthusiasm, nothing had been accomplished aside from wasting time.

Even with the influence of Phipps’ strange looks and increasingly aggressive comments about how mad the Queen was going to be, Grey didn’t regret leaving his mission unfulfilled. Excuses could be made, and Queen Victoria would be satisfied with reassurance and explanations. He’d found something much more entertaining than a dead businessman, after all.

~

Despite his best efforts, Grey didn’t simply forget about you. Every spare minute he had was occupied by thoughts of you. Did you ever tell your parents what happened? Did they know about the gun you apparently slept with? Would you be excited to see him again? Terrified? Was this just routine for you? And most importantly, did you think about him in the same way he seemed to obsess over you?

Against his better intentions, he would find his answer. It was at a party, one the Queen had asked him and his counterpart to attend. It was boring, just another ball with loud music, dull guests, and mediocre food that wouldn’t quell his appetite. Nothing new, nothing exciting, nothing to do. Then, he saw you.

You were dancing, laughing, touching a man he didn’t recognize. You looked happy, relaxed, unarmed, so unlike you’d been with Grey. It threw him into a paranoid rage, the kind that could start wars. You didn’t care about him. You hadn’t spared him a second thought. He didn’t know what he expected, if he was disappointed or just irrational, but that didn’t change his desire to keep your eyes on him. Before you even noticed his presence, Grey had one arm wrapped around your waist, quickly pulling you away from the annoyance you were talking to.

“Miss me, dearest?” He purred, nuzzling into your side like an old friend. Your eyes darted around the room, obviously searching for anyone who could help. Someone to call for you, or see your clear discomfort. It was a vain effort. Everyone was already caught up in their own gossip, not that anyone would try to interrupt an Earl, regardless. “I was expecting a visit. Or a letter, at least.”

“I try not to associate with murderers.” Your voice was cold, so unlike your warmth from a few moments ago. After all the time you spend together, Grey figured he would be considered an acquaintance, if not a friend. But, that could change. That would change. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you,” He answered, honestly. There wasn’t a need to lie, not yet. Reluctantly, he let go of your waist, grabbing your hand before you had a chance to get away. A sweeter gesture. A more intimate gesture. Something that could make you trust him, if only a little. “I like you, (Y/n).  And I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me.” You opened your mouth, ready to reject him, but Grey didn’t give you the chance. “I promise, I had a good reason for what I tried to do. If you give me some time, I’ll explain, but that’ll never happen if you run away.”

Your apprehension remained, but with a quick glance between your wrist, his face, and the nearest exit, you nodded. Grey wasn’t surprised, not this time. 

That line never failed.

~

Months passed, along with the more… volatile stages of your friendship. With some time and a few mildly tampered-with confessions, Grey was stopping by your estate once a week, if not more often, and you were making excuses to spend time with him just as frequently. Your parents only encouraged this new union, seeing him as a potential suitor, one who’d pay a very heavy price for your hand. You, alternatively, tried to look past his fortune. To remember that this was the man who tried to kill your father, to look at him and see someone who’d end your life in the blink of an eye, but... it was hard to not enjoy his company.

Of course, Grey couldn’t have been more pleased. As long as you were paying attention to him, updating him about your life and giving him the opportunity to do the same, no one would have a chance to steal you away. You had to think about him, to mull over the letters you wrote, to consider him as something more than a threat that needed to be dealt with. But, that certainly didn’t mean he liked everything you told him.

You nearly squealed, clinging onto Grey’s arm like your life depended on it. In another context, he would’ve gladly supported this kind of behavior from you. Unfortunately, what you were actually talking about ruined the moment. “Isn’t he great, Charles? He’s just perfect! You’ve got to meet him, I’ll set something up-”

“He looks weak.” Grey cast a wary glance towards the picture in his hand. The man you were so infatuated with was plain, in all honesty. Not handsome, not impressive, barely above a servant. He wasn’t worth your time, much less the devotion you seem so determined to express. “Poor, too. You’d be better off with someone like me, darling.”

“You can’t just write someone off because of money,” You complained, trying to grab the photo away. He just held it out of your reach, smiling as you tried to climb over him to get it. His eyes never left the man’s face. He needed to memorize every detail, to know the man who tried to take you away from him.

“I mean, you can’t. I, however, am extremely wealthy, incredibly attractive, and unrealistically talented.” And madly in love with you, he added, mentally. You punched him in the arm playfully, watching him pout and sheepishly hand the small object over. The way you beamed at it sent chills down his spine, his grin faltering more than once. You were love-struck, by the wrong person. Luckily, you were too preoccupied to notice. “I think I’m going to propose. I want to marry him.”

Grey didn’t miss a beat. “You’re parents would never allow it.”

“They don’t have to know.” It was a defined change from the girl who was willing to kill someone if it meant keeping her father uninjured, Grey was almost taken back. Always full of surprised, you were. You sighed, taking on a new tone of urgency. “I’ll run away if I have to, I just want to be with him.” Your attention snapped back to Grey, the pleading look you gave him not exactly unwelcome. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

Silence hung over the two of you, never a good sign. “Well, I don’t know about that...” Slowly, he averted his eyes, gesturing in circles. “But, if you write down his full name and address, I might be inclined to use my aforementioned wealth and talent to deliver your message, while forgetting to mention it both your parents and my associate.”

“Oh my god, thank you!” You gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Grey was tempted to return to gesture, but opted to just awkwardly pat your shoulder and play with your hair. Delicacy would be best, for now. “You’re so nice, and great, and...”

“Handsome? Your savior? The light of your life?”

“All that, too.”

When you were his, these gestures of affection didn’t have to be forced out of you. Once he got rid of that pest, you’d fall into his arms naturally. You would be out of excuses to run away, and with your new-found favor, you’d be more… open to the suggestion of something more serious. You would have to be.

Grey didn’t know what he would do if you still rejected him. Especially after he’d done so much for you.

~

“Remind me why we’re here, again?” Phipps trailed behind Grey, looking from the small, claustrophobic apartment to his counterpart. Grey rolled his eyes, trying the door. It wasn’t even locked. How had you ever fallen for someone so dimwitted? “We’re supposed to be in London by sunrise.”

“This’ll only take a minute. I just need to get rid of the trash that’s been bothering one of my favorite toys.” The words were hissed out, barely audible to the uncaring Phipps. Or, he thought so, at least. A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him from advancing into the dark house.

“And you’re sure this isn’t going too far?” The man questioned, his worry shining through the monotone drawl. Grey didn’t know whether he was asking out of genuine concern for a friend or the fear of dealing with his mess. But, Grey did know that an intervention wasn’t going to stop him. “A proper butler should never let his mind stray from his master’s commands.”

This man stole your attention, stole all those wonderful, mysterious reactions of yours. He seduced you away from the person who you’re meant to be with. Your rightful owner. And now, he was trying to trick you into running away from the life you were meant to have. It was disgusting, revolting, enraging. A downright crime, really. One worthy of a painful, drawn-out death sentence.

Grey shrugged off the other Charles, pushing the door open with his shoulder. “This is fine. If anything, I’m being lenient.”

~

For lack of a softer way to put it, you looked bad. There were bags under your eyes, your hair was unstyled and poorly tied back, and you couldn’t seem to stop from fidgeting. The last one Grey could write off as nerves. For all the times he’d shown up in your home without warning, this was the first time he’d called you to his. Since this was the place you’d spend the rest of your life, he wanted everything to be perfect the first time you saw it. But, that didn’t explain why you were so… discouraged. Even while standing by his side, idly walking through one of the nicer parts of his garden, you looked like you expected him to drop dead.

“He never met me,” You said, unprompted, as if you were reading his mind. You stopped for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. “At first, I thought he just decided he didn’t like me that much, or something got in the way and he couldn’t make it, but then I didn’t hear from him for a few weeks. I guess I got curious, but when I went to his apartment…” You froze, grabbing his arm as a source of comfort. “He was dead, Charles. Dead. The landlord had to break the news.”

It took more self-control than it should’ve to keep from laughing. Of course your lover was dead, what else had you expected? You’d asked a murderer to deliver a proposal, after all. But still, he had to be sympathetic. Slowly, he rubbed short circled into your back, letting you bury your face in his shirt. “Aw, don’t be so negative about it.” You tensed, forcing him to wrap an arm around your waist. A hand closed around your chin, forcing you to look at him. “This is for the best, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, your confusion evident. He missed that expression of yours, so bewildered. So helpless. “No… what did you do?”

“I made things right,” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You pushed him away, trying to gain any distance you could. His fingers trailed from your chin to the side of your face, lingering for a moment before brutally rooting themselves in your hair. You flinched, returning the favor by digging your nails into his shoulders. “He was a distraction. You see that, right? He took you away from me, so I got rid of him. Eradicated, like the vermin he was. Isn’t that great? Now that there’s no one to waste your time, you can be with me.”

“And if I don’t want to be with you?” You growled, confusion becoming anger. Your heart was beating faster now, so quick he could feel it through your chest. Grey released you, letting you stumble back before he grabbed your wrist. “You’re crazy, absolutely insane, I can’t believe I ever had hope for you. I should’ve just killed you when I had the chance.”

“That hurts, (Y/n), really. But, my proposal still stands.” Again, he moved to kiss you, settling for your hand, smirking against your skin. He’d hoped for his to be a little more romantic, but this would have to do. He’d taste your lips soon enough. “I do want you to come along willingly, but if you’re going to insist on being difficult, then I’m not above doing the hard way.”

You narrow your eyes, finally pulling yourself away completely. You moved to leave, not caring enough to remember which way you’d come from. As long as it got you away from Grey, you’d take any path happily. “Thanks, but I’d rather die.”

Despite your determination, you barely got a few steps away. Grey's arm wrapped around your waist from behind, his saber coming out of its scabbard and pressing dangerously close to your neck. Still in denial, you tried to continue your resistance, only for the blade to cut into your skin. A warm, thin trail of blood fell onto your chest, and you finally realized just how screwed you were.

“You wouldn’t.” Your hand settled just above his wrist, not pushing him away or urging him to move forward. Maybe you wanted to get some emotional response out of him, or know if he moved. Either way, Grey just rested his chin on your shoulder, humming contently. “I thought you said you loved me.”

“I do,” He paused, pressing his lips against your shoulder. He’d dreamed about being in this position for so long, pressed against you without interference or distraction. “Believe me, I do. You’ve had my attention from the minute I met you, and nothing makes me happier than the thought of having you with me for the rest of my life.” The sentiment was sweet, almost genuine. You could’ve believed it, if the flat of his sword hadn’t been pressed against the bottom of your jaw. Carefully, your chin was tilted towards him, forcing you to look at the white-haired man. “But, I’d rather take you by force than not have you. So, what’ll it be?”

Briefly, you considered goating him on. Dying might’ve been preferable, compared to a forced engagement to a mad-man. But, you knew that couldn’t be it. He wouldn’t just kill you, he’d kidnap you, or torture you, or worse. You tried to push the possibilities out of your mind, but they were suffocating, impossible to ignore. In the end, all you could bring yourself to do was nod. It was enough for Grey, though.

His mouth was on yours in an instant, the kiss chaste and quick, before he pulled away, chuckling. That didn’t stop him from pulling you closer, peppering your neck with small pecs and nips. The scene was exactly how he’d pictured it, down to the tears starting to run over your cheeks.

“We’re going to be so happy together, love.”

[thedyingmoon]

💜 This I Promise 💜

***

LI. Closer

***

Levi made his way through the crowd of unknown faces and sinister smiles. It looked as though everyone was looking at him in a way that made his blood run cold. And with Erwin and Reiss’ disappearance, he was becoming more and more nervous as time went by.

Not for him, but for (F/N).

But, where the heck was she, anyway? He had been scanning the crowd for almost an hour and there was no sign of her. Hange, Jean, and Mikasa may now be on the move to retaliate should things escalate to threatening heights, but he could never do his job without the girl on his side. Not to mention Nile’s family within the mansion.

One startling tap on his back almost made him jump. He turned around and saw a very familiar looking elder woman looking at him and regarding him with a very scrutinizing eye.

“Have I seen you before, young man?” she said in a clear voice, indicating that, despite her old age, she’s still as alert as a Military Police officer.

And young man? He’s anything but that.

“Well?”

Levi snapped back from his thoughts and decided to answer the noblewoman. “No, madam. I’m a,… err,… migrant from Wall Rose.” He stuttered.

Dang it,…

“Honorary Noble! I see. Can’t really trust Honorary Nobles these days,…” The woman said, unfurled her lacey fan, which she used to tap him, and started fanning herself. Somehow, there was an air of importance about her which reminded him of someone he saw before,…

That’s when it finally hit him like a brick,…

“Y-your Grace,…” Levi muttered. He just couldn’t help stuttering in front of her.

For once in his life, he was intimidated.

Why? Because, right in front of him, was last year’s host of the Winter Season, Duchess Fleminger, herself.

Or, in other words, the old woman he and Petra escaped from last year to do their thing,…

“What are you gawking at, young man? Aren’t you just looking for a new partner?” the dowager said. Not only her body is robust, but her voice, as well!

Levi felt his hair stood on end at the air of authority which emanated from her. Yes, he dissed many nobles before. But, this woman? It seemed that there was something about her that freaked him out. He could tell it from the moment he and Petra first met her a year ago.

Not that she, herself, is scary, no.

It might sound crazy but, his Ackerman senses were telling him to respect this woman no matter what.

But, why?

“Forgive me, Your Grace.” He said in a really polite voice, then bowed respectfully without his usual high – strung behavior. A sight that Hange, herself, would pay thousands to see.

“Yes, I was looking for my partner.”

The Dowager raised her eyebrow. “Well, then!” she said, waving him away like a beggar. “I only thought that you looked familiar. That and the fact that I saw you somewhere before. I’m positive of it.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. But, this is the first time we’ve met.” He lied.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m very sure.”

“And you said you were looking for someone?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, yes. In fact, I told my man to search for someone, as well. And it seems that he still hasn’t seen her, yet. Off you go, then! Off you go, now.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Dowager didn’t say anything else as she made her way towards the opposite side of the room.

Not only was she robust physically and vocally, she was highly – intuitive, as well! Somehow, she sensed the Ackerman beneath his disguise!

Well, back to the task at hand.

After he and the Dowager separated, he started searching inside rooms which were available for the guests to use. Still no sign of her.

He was about to go outside to look, with half of his hope vanishing, when he suddenly heard a female voice arguing with someone. The person sounded a bit drunk, but she sounded familiar!

But, there’s no way,…

“Okay, sweetheart, that’s enough champagne for tonight,…”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What I’m doing is taking away that glass. You’re coming with me!”

“How dare you!”

Levi felt his cheeks burn hot as he witnessed the banter between his highly suspicious ex - guardian Kenny and (F/N). He was trying to take away the glass of champagne from her hand. He felt even more embarrassed when she slapped Kenny’s hand away from her glass. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and pursued on his mission to stop her from drinking.

“You should thank the Heavens and the Lord Almighty for your dumb luck, kid, but you have to stop that stupidity right now and come with me! You don’t want me to lose my patience,…”

“No one’s going to lose patience this evening.”

(F/N) and Kenny turned just in time to see Elvis staring at the two of them. He somehow made his way towards them without being noticed.

Oh, fuck! And now, Elvis,… (F/N) thought as she stared at the short blonde, giving Kenny an opportunity to snatch away her drink.

“Hey!” (F/N) shrieked at Kenny.

Levi winced. (F/N) really was drunk.

“That’s the last glass, kid!” Kenny scolded her like she was some misbehaving child and took her arm.  “Let’s go!”

“I’m afraid she’s not coming with you.” Elvis said, grabbing (F/N)’s other hand.

Kenny’s mood suddenly changed into a darker one.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” the older man asked him, his voice on the verge of showing anger. The man doesn’t like being reprimanded, after all.

“Her family has been looking all over for her and they’re worried sick!” Elvis announced dramatically.

“No, they’re not,…” (F/N) began but was interrupted when Elvis put a hand around her mouth to silence her.

Kenny’s eyebrows raised in suspicion.

No one could fool Kenny Ackerman,…

“Bye! Have a great time!” Elvis sarcastically announced as he dragged (F/N) away from him. Then, added in a soft whisper, “Motherfucker,…”

… but, one could definitely escape the man should they have guts like Levi Ackerman’s.

Kenny rubbed his aching forehead.

“That son of a gun,…”

(F/N) tried to wriggle free from Elvis’ firm grasp, but she couldn’t and she just hesitantly went with him towards the garden.

“Let go of me!” (F/N) said to him as she felt the cool winter air enter her system. Elvis dragged her out here without even considering the fact that she was coat – less!

“No.” he simply said.

“You should, at least, provide me with a coat, you bastard,…”

Levi was startled upon hearing the words from (F/N). It was the first time that he heard her say such things to anyone. He let her go, practically throwing her to the railing of the balcony.

“Ouch! Hey! Why did you do that for?!”

Levi didn’t answer. He just crossed his arms. He was clearly not pleased with what she just said. And when he finally opened his mouth, (F/N) just wished that he didn’t.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, (F/N).” he regarded her coldly, and it honestly hurt (F/N). “Explain.”

(F/N) raised her eyebrows at him. One of the things she hated in a man was his dominant side. And she didn’t specifically want to see it in Elvis.

“Oh, and now, you care? When you could rescue me a bit earlier than that!”

“You’re so fucking childish! I searched all over for you, and what are you doing when I found you? You’re drinking like an unemployed piece of shit! I took you away, and what did I get in return? You are such an unreasonable, spoiled, fucking bitch!”

(F/N) drew back in terror, her eyes twitching in pain. She sharply took a breath, steam coming out of her mouth when she exhaled due to the weather, and looked away from him. She grabbed the railing as tight as she could, trying so much to control the tears that were threatening to come out of her eyes.

As expected, she thought. That felt awfully familiar.

“You don’t understand anything.” She began. “You weren’t there when they called me a witch. You absolutely weren’t there when they laughed at my appearance. You never heard those things they said about being me being the Commander’s new Mistress. You’re lucky you have your memories. Every single time I seem to get them back, my heart hurts like hell. I don’t belong here, My Lord. You do.”

Slowly, she turned to look at him, her eyes moist and her lips twitched in a forced smile.

“Forgive me for being such an unreasonable, spoiled, fucking, bitch. I’m so sorry, Captain Levi,…”

Levi’s eyes widened in surprise. Did she just call him – ?

“Ah, shit! You’re not Captain Levi, are you?” she uttered, her fingers rubbing her tired eyes, her memories jumbling inside her head. The champagne really did a good job of throwing her sensibilities and common sense all over the place. “I know you’re not. Because every time I remember or hear that name, my heart start – “

(F/N) was suddenly engulfed in a warm embrace. The pain in  her heart vanished like smoke as the man rubbed her back gently. Her senses calmed down when he ruffled her hair.

“I’m sorry.” He simply said.

“I called you a bastard,…”

“Because I really am.” It’s the truth,…

“But, I’ve been such a bitch,…”

“Forget it. I’ve been a piece of shit. You’re not.”

(F/N) let the man caress her as she finally put her trust in him, burying her face in his chest, his white shirt absorbing her tears.

“It’s in the way, sorry.” Elvis said as he grabbed (F/N)’s shoulders and pried her away from his body for a while to remove the lavender rose from his chest, throwing it irritatingly on the ground. “It’s a fake, after all,…” He pulled her once more in his arms and embraced her even closer than ever before.

For a while. The two were enjoying their company in each other’s arms, forgetting everything else, when the music for the next dance started playing.

“Waltz again.” (F/N) muttered, her fingers playfully tugging at the fabric of Elvis’ shirt.

“Yeah.” Levi answered, very much enjoying sniffing her scent. It’s true what Hange said; (F/N) really does smell good.

All of a sudden, an idea crossed Levi’s mind.

(F/N) felt Elvis shifting his position, holding her right hand and putting his other hand on her back. Slowly, he started leading her gently through the basic steps of the waltz. This made (F/N) giggle a bit.

“Seriously?” she asked him.

“Seriously.” Levi answered.

That particular moment, just like what the books regarding romance so portrayed over the years, looked perfect in every way possible. The sweet sound of the violin lulled their ears, the simple, yet alluring, steps of the ancient dance connecting the two people even closer than ever before. The place was silent, yet their movements whispered sweetly to them. Each flicker of the wrist or the step of the feet conveyed some hidden emotion, and each hidden emotion seemed to make their way across each other’s heart.

(F/N) gazed at the dull, blue eyes looking gently down at her. He’s not a very graceful dancer, unlike the handsome male protagonists within those romance books that she borrowed from Rosemarie once, but those eyes definitely and successfully conveyed everything he wanted her to feel. She knew it was very wrong of them to be this close, but she couldn’t help it.

She really felt something about him, and she knew what it was. And she was afraid to convey it to him.

One swift dip told her, otherwise. It seemed to tell her, no! Say anything you want! And when he pulled her back up, that twirl told her, say it to me, now. Tell me everything,…

“We shouldn’t be like this,…” she whispered to him.

“Why?” he asked her, his eyes looking really confused. It’s as if he regarded everything to be just perfectly fine.

“Just because,…” she wanted to tell him that it’s all wrong, but she couldn’t muster the courage to do so.

“Just because? (F/N), there’s nothing wrong with two people loving each other.”

(F/N)’s eyes widened. There! She finally heard those words, and she was right.

They both felt the same thing!

She felt her cheeks burning as the man she truly loved gazed down lovingly at her.

She may, one day, get her memories back, but no matter what happens, she definitely wanted to remember this moment. She wanted to carve it into her heart and mind, and she would someday look back to the fond memory and say,…

I found you.

Levi smiled at her, and (F/N) instantly felt shy upon realizing that she had said that aloud.

The snow started coming down from that beautiful evening sky at the same time the music stopped.

The two may have stopped moving, but their hearts couldn’t stay still.

Slowly, Levi brought his face down towards her, his fingers tipping her chin up to face him. (F/N) instantly felt what was going to happen and closed her eyes. He closed his eyes, his lips almost grazing her soft, champagne – flavored ones,…

(F/N) suddenly pulled away as she covered her mouth.

“(F/N)?” Levi asked and groaned as she gave him an apologetic look and went towards the back of the mansion to unload her sickness.

Levi face palmed.

“For the love of - !”

“Levi!” a voice called to him. He turned and saw Hange, Mikasa, Jean, and Eren, still in their disguise, making their way towards him.

“Hange, what happened? Did you - ?”

He abruptly stopped as she saw the look of utter disappointment in her eyes.

“Captain, he left us.” Jean told him.

“Who did?”

“Erwin.” Hange said, pain evident in her stress – stricken voice. “He betrayed us. He’s now one of them.”

“What in the - ?”

“Captain, we must go now. There’s nothing left here for us to do.” Jean said, being the only person among them whose intellect was still somewhat functioning despite what they just learned. “We thought he’d fight them, but, we’re wrong. We’re wrong from the start.”

“It’s truth he wants.” Hange butted in, a strange smile creeping up to her lips. “Naturally, it seems that he is willing to give up his own humanity to obtain them. I thought it’s just his way of motivating himself, obtaining the whole truth for humanity. I guess he was not kidding, after all. With finding out the whole truth part, that is.”

“What are you going to do?”

“We’re going back to the Legion. There’s no one in high authority left to protect what’s left of the witnesses.” Announced Jean.

“What about (F/N)? We can’t leave her here! And I still have a promise to fulfill,…”

Hange placed her hands on top of his shoulders.

“Do everything you can to protect her.” She solemnly uttered. “If you must stay for the sake of that promise, then stay. Just, don’t let Erwin take her away. Do you understand?”

Levi just nodded in response, still unable to believe how the things went.

But, it’s Erwin, after all. And Erwin was always full of surprises,…

“Let’s go.” Hange told the young recruits.

But, before they could even leave, Eren faced him,…

… and said something he could never forget,…

It was to a very solemn Elvis Shunerman that (F/N) returned to a few moments later.

“My Lord?” she carefully asked.

“We’re going home.”

***

“Weak, timid, and not aggressive enough.”

That’s how Keith Shadis saw (F/N) (L/N), the new Trainee who recently enrolled to be in the 105th.

But, of course, he didn’t see, or hear, everything that happened to her.

He didn’t see those times when the other Trainees purposefully hide her equipment so that she could be late for the assembly. He didn’t see how they “fix” her maneuvering device in secret so that she could fail her 3dmg tests. He didn’t hear all those things they repeatedly tell her. He didn’t see them repeatedly bullying her.

But, most of all, he definitely didn’t see when her supposed sister, Petra Ral, now a renowned member of the Levi Squad, paid all those Trainees to specifically make her life a living hell.

But, unbeknownst to Petra or most of them, Keith Shadis has his own ways of unearthing talent from anyone. He knew it in his bones when someone was destined for great things. He also knew it when someone was just talk and nothing else.

So, when (F/N) successfully made her way towards the other end of the forest using broken gear, he saw that. When (F/N) still stayed standing even after getting the shit beaten out of her numerous times and all the other Trainees have fallen, he saw that. When she tried very hard to prioritize her bullies safety above her, he saw that, too.

When everyone else have complained regarding the harsh training and she did not? Saw that, as well.

And what better way to hone those unusual things in her than by letting her stay for three hellish years in the Corps and not sending her to the recaptured lands to cultivate vegetables?

Yes, that’s it.

Keith sighed as he prepared the documents of the 105th that evening.

The report must be submitted on the next day to the designated Regiments. Apparently, he did hear that (F/N) wanted to join the Legion in order to repay Levi for saving her.

There’s no other place, is there? Things must be done, didn’t they?

With his ever snappy fingers, he wrote his observation of her.

“Weak, timid, and not aggressive enough.”

He wrote.

That’s what the paper on top of his desk told him.

The one inside his drawer told another story.

“She prioritized others over her own safety. Her skills on the 3dmg are not half bad, and could be improved with proper guidance. Her stamina and endurance outlast those around her, which would be perfect for long campaigns and expeditions outside the walls. She had a sharp mind, and could possibly bring down several Titans should she focus on the task. She had far greater insight, judgment, and mental skills compared to others who only use them to get to the Military Police as a requirement. With proper guidance of a worthy mentor, she could be qualified as the next Commander of the Scouting Legion.”

***

~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @nerdyphantom , @super-peace-fangirl , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @fangurl-ontgeside , and @emilyackerman78 . 💜

***

💜💜💜

***

[sternenteile]

How bitter he is about his job sometimes. It's an awesome job, but I don't envy having to sit there for years. ;;;

geno’s job is brutal.  when he was born and raised in starborn valley, he, as a sprightly and naive child, expected that it would just be sunshine and rainbows. he would make as many people happy as he could, and it would be all smiles. such a pollyanna view of the world and what makes wishes tic, however, was quickly destroyed once rosalina discovered him and noted his potential, resulting in his early ascension to star haven —— and therefore star road. poor rosie probably had no idea just how bad things would end up being on him, for while many other stars haven’t an issue with the system as it is today (at least during geno’s time of coming to adulthood), geno… was different.

as a little one and even today, he has a very strong sense of justice, almost to the point of being totally unwavering. with that comes stubbornness and, if necessary, defiance. when it comes to just about any old joe, geno is very quick to stand his ground, but when it comes to his elders, his superiors, things get messy very quickly.

at first, little geno waited on the star spirits’ hands and feet (nubs and nubs??), ready for their beck and call without question. however, as time waned on, he saw the tough parts of his job, how some wishes are literally impossible to grant, even for the most deserving of people. he’s had to turn down wishes for loved ones to recover from illness, children’s pleas to bring a parent back from the dead, prayers for a quick miracle that he couldn’t make it to in time (leaving said wishes null and void)… and so on. the very first time he had to deny a wish like that was a young boy pleading for his mother to ‘wake up’, and it made him sob like a baby.

to top all of that off, as things got mentally straining for geno and the worn mentality of an adult set in, he began to miss his own planet. however, due to the necessary seclusion of a star from every other lifeform in the shiver region, he didn’t get to travel beyond starborn. he was prohibited from going elsewhere, and he was only allowed visitations to starborn for strictly business purposes. it absolutely floored him that they were so stringent about where he could go and what he could do. 

making matters worse, sometimes there were no wishes to grant along with nothing going on that requires geno’s stalwart guard. he was a sentry first and a wish-granter second, ever vigilant about protecting star road from any intruders or threats. that said, not much really happened there until smithy shattered the peace (literally), so if all wishes had been divided among the other stars and there was nothing to defend, geno… still had to stand guard. he was still requested to spend long, boring hours doing nothing but keeping an eye out, ordered not to stray or to lollygag. 

it was a very secluding environment for being out in such an infinite expanse, often leaving geno alone to his own thoughts. in his younger days, his mind would be racing, but slowly, his mental state deteriorated. time spent in that kind of solitude and monotony could drive a man mad, and it certainly did for him. he was a fitful being, upset and angry that he’d been so limited, unable to fulfill his own wishes while working for others’. his elders didn’t budge, of course, and his complaints fell on deaf ears. it ended up in him basically screaming at nothing, left to battle with his own mind and his higher authorities’ disappointment in his ‘childish behavior’  ( ❝ you are an adult, starlight. act like one! ❞ ), finding solace only in helping to grant the wishes of the people on this planet. 

eventually, it just became too tiring, to the point that he became awfully robotic. his mind stopped racing like it used to. he began to blank out and gained the ability to practically erase his mind. it was like he wasn’t even his own person anymore. he totally forgot who he was beyond a vehicle for wish-granting and protection. while granting wishes gives him joy beyond belief, even that wasn’t touching his awful emotional state anymore, the one thing that he loved most. he was just jaded and apathetic, a far cry from the enthusiastic being we know today as ‘geno’. he was formal and polite, yet withdrawn and cynical.

when the events of super mario rpg happened, however, it lit a fire in him that he hadn’t felt in years. he felt that this was his chance to prove himself, to help everyone, and to break from the shackles holding him back, even if for a time. when he went down and fought bowyer, it was with great gusto, and he was feeling more alive than he had in ages. he jumped for joy when he merged with the geno doll. he faced bowyer with brimming confidence and told him to ‘chill out’. he laughed when mario and mallow were baffled at his ‘coming to life’.

coming out of his shell and figuring out who he was again, however, was still a slow process. while generally nice to mario and mallow, he was rather distant, fearing the idea of forging any bonds with them. as seen via his belome clone, his one-track minded thoughts were of the star pieces and nothing but. while belome clones were exaggerated caricatures, it showed just how important geno’s job was to him and how he tried to keep in line, even at the detriment of himself. as time wore on, though, he came more and more out of his shell, eventually bonding with the whole crew and conceding to the fact that he loved them all. they treated him better than eldstar and the rest of them did, the ones who knew him for decades compared to mario and the crew’s few weeks. he rekindled the fire in him that was his own sense of self, his own idea of justice, and he didn’t want to leave it. by the time the end of smrpg came, he was in so deep, and it clearly broke his heart that he had to leave his new friends behind, possibly for good.

     ❝ our journey is about to come to an end.      ——— and when the time comes… ❞

smithy was defeated. star road was repaired. geno returned to the heavens above, and even though he’d received praise from his elders, it was very bittersweet. he longed to return to the people he cared for again, and just as he used to be, he retaliated against the ideals of his brethren. eventually, rosalina came to a compromise, realizing how much he missed them all sorely. he’d defend the planet as well as star road, giving him reason to be there and to stand guard. the loophole brought him back to the doll, the very one he’d become attached to, the one that gaz kept for all of this time… and this leaves us with geno today.

he loves his job. he absolutely loves granting wishes and protecting his fellow kin. however, his beef lies squarely with eldstar and the gang’s traditionalist mindsets. being a more progressive person with a different way of thinking, geno’s values and theirs do not mix, even if they both strive for the same thing. they’re like water and oil. as such, he’s more of a vigilante nowadays, protecting star road and granting wishes while keeping his distance from them. while he is still permitted to use the star rod to do as he must, he and the other star spirits, especially eldstar and misstar, rarely speak. they rarely cross paths. it would just end in another fight, and he frankly is so done with their shit that he does not want to do that. he will stand by his own sense of justice, no matter what the hell they say or think… and that means getting justice for himself, as well.

[raendown]

Lovely anon, I am sorry for your wait. It seems I am always busy and therefore always late getting to these. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Rating: T+ Word count: 1855 Summary: Madara enjoys learning new things about Tobirama, if only so that he has something new to tease him with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Picky

Tobirama was going to get them both in trouble if he kept making that face. Granted, the way his nose wrinkled ever so slightly was kind of adorable, but even if he disliked what the daimyo was saying so much he should still know better than to show it so visibly. Doing his best to keep his version of a pleasantly interested expression on his face, Madara lightly jerked his foot against his companion’s ankle across the fancy dinner table. Tobirama looked up at him with a frown.

“What?” he hissed, lowering his voice so that only Madara could hear him.

“You’re doing it again. What’s your problem? He’s just talking about increasing crop revenues, what are you even disagreeing with?”

Instead of explaining himself, Tobirama deepened his scowl and looked down at the plate of food he had barely touched. Madara wondered if he wasn’t just feeling ill. As shinobi they both had large appetites – it took a lot of calories to build as much muscle as their line of work required – but he hadn’t seen his mission partner eat more than a few tiny bites of the vegetable curry they had been served for dinner. It was a worrisome thought, actually. If Tobirama was ill then he wouldn’t be on top of his game later when they spoke with the figurehead of the Fire Nation to request more funding.

Both of them returned their attention to the daimyo and his longwinded speech. As they listened, however, Madara allowed himself to peek over at his companion every couple of minutes when he was sure no one was looking, checking to see if the other man was still making those faces.

He was.

It struck him as slightly off behavior. Tobirama was a well-trained diplomat, much better versed in the intricacies of social behavior than his elder brother, so it was strange to see him being so obvious about his personal feelings for someone. Madara didn’t think much of their weak-minded Lord either but at least he wasn’t making scrunched up faces just listening to the man talk. Even he knew that would be considered childish and uncouth behavior.

The mystery was solved when he happened to glance over just as Tobirama brought his chopsticks to his bowl for another tiny bite. He watched the man dip the utensils in to his food and dig through it like he was looking for something in particular, his nose wrinkling again as he pushed a large piece of water chestnut off to one side, nostrils flaring with distaste when he shoved a sizable chunk of yellow pepper away as well. A look of relief appeared in his eyes as he excavated a small piece of mushroom and deposited it in to his mouth, chewing happily until he looked up and saw Madara watching him with a great deal of amusement.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” Madara asked in a whisper.

“She taught me if I didn’t have anything nice to say that I should shut my mouth.”

“You didn’t learn that lesson very well, did you?”

“Fuck off and let me eat.”

Madara snorted softly, trying not to draw attention. “I would if I thought you might actually eat some of it instead of shoving it around your plate like a pouty child.”

“I said fuck off.”

Straightening his back and tensing his shoulders in the way he always did when he was getting defensive, Tobirama glared and very pointedly dug his chopsticks deep in to his bowl, pulling out a large portion of curry to shove it all in his mouth at once. He managed to chew three times before his entire face pinched and his eyes squeezed shut in a manner that sent Madara back some fifteen years in time. Suddenly he was sitting at the dinner table in his childhood home watching Izuna try something new for the first time and spitting it back out because it was ‘yucky’.

“Oh sweet sage,” he murmured, glee rising up and brightening his entire face. “You’re not grumpy over whatever he’s talking about. You don’t like your food! You’re picky!”

“I hate yellow peppers,” Tobirama hissed, spraying rice over the table and looking twice as disgusted.

“Amazing. Just amazing. This is great.”

“Shut up, Uchiha.”

“What else don’t you like in there? I see you’re not eating your chestnuts either. What, they don’t suit your snooty taste?”

If looks could kill Tobirama’s glare would have struck him down as the man drew himself up impossibly straighter and ground out between clenched teeth, “I don’t like the texture of them, for your information. It makes my skin crawl.”

“Remind me to stock up on water chestnuts when we get home. I’ll carry some around with me wherever I go and then you’ll never bother me about my reports again.” Madara snickered, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. It only got worse when he saw Tobirama look down at his plate again with a look akin to a man marching to his doom.

“Only if you remind me to slip a few snakes in to your office again.”

“That was you! I hate snakes!”

“Yes, I know you do.”

Now they both glared at each other, utterly consumed with their own little world until they were jerked back out of it by a half-familiar voice called out Madara’s name. He whipped his head around to find the daimyo – and everyone else as well – staring straight at him.

“Ah, my lord?”

“I asked if everything was well, Uchiha-san.”

“Our sincerest apologies, my lord, but it seems as if, ah, my partner here has fallen ill. I believe he…ate something he disagreed with.” Madara did his best to imitate the innocent face which he’d seen Kagami use so many times to worm his way out of trouble. Whether it was that or his words, one of them seemed to be effective as the daimyo’s expression turned sympathetic.

Madara did his best not to react to the foot which kicked him under the table. Just this once he would have to allow his partner a fair retaliation.

“Perhaps it would be best if you retired for the evening, Senju-san? We would not wish for any of our loyal subjects to fall ill at our table.” The man at the head of the room clapped his hands and two servants rushed forward to remove Tobirama’s dishes. He was pompous and overly puffed up with his own importance but he was also gracious to those who served him. One could ask for little more from those in power.

“That is infinitely kind of you,” Tobirama murmured, clearly mortified to have to leave. Several other important figures were present, representatives from other clans or noble lords of the capital city, and many of them were already whispering to each other.

“I believe I should accompany him,” Madara heard his own voice say. “If my lord does not mind?”

“Of course, of course. We look forward to your companion’s better health.”

Both of them nodded politely and made their way from the dining hall side by side. Tobirama was already pale enough that he had no need to play up the image of illness as they walked the ten minute journey back to their rooms. He did make sure to lessen his normally perfect posture while Madara made a passing attempt at looking concerned.

The moment they were alone in their shared quarters with the door closed behind them Madara found himself shoved roughly up against the closest wall. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, though, and he schooled himself to be still as Tobirama shoved their faces close together with an irritable growl.

“Ate something I disagreed with?” he demanded. Madara smirked.

“Do you think anyone else caught my phrasing?”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Knowing an apology would be little more than useless words, Madara opted for a tactic which had yet to fail him. His tongue traced along his bottom lip, waiting until Tobirama’s eyes dropped to watch its progress, then he tilted his head to the side and forward so that he could drag it against the stubble coming in on his lover’s chin.

“Because I let you play around with all those filthy fantasies you have. Naughty. What would your brother say if he knew just how depraved his little Tobi really is?”

“How many times have I told you not to talk about Hashirama and sex in the same sentence?” Despite the irritation clear in his voice, he stilled pressed himself forward until their bodies were flush against each other. “I hate you,” he groaned as the tongue lapping at his jaw turned to gentle nibbles. Madara chuckled against him.

“No you don’t.”

“Hmph.”

Moving upwards to take the other man’s earlobe between his teeth, Madara suckled gently before pulling away to murmur against a tattooed cheek. “How is it that I didn’t know you were such a picky eater?”

“Because you are woefully unobservant.”

“I resent that.”

“Last week I disposed of half of that concoction you made for dinner without you even noticing. You added eggplant. Ugh.”

“That was expensive! It was imported! And you threw it out!?” Madara jerked his head back to stare at the other incredulously, irritated when he received a prissy little huff in return.

“You seemed to like it. I moved it all on to your plate.”

Somewhat mollified by that, Madara tilted his head in thought. “Oh. That would explain why I feel like I’ve been eating more lately. Very sneaky; I almost approve. Tell me, what other things should I avoid?”

“Do you want the entire list?” Tobirama asked him dryly.

“You’re that picky? I thought it would just be a few things!” Amusement returned, along with the image of a younger Izuna sticking out his tongue in protest of what he had just eaten. “Well I’ll be damned. Senju Tobirama has the palate of a child!”

“I am not a child! As you well know!”

“Mm, yes, I can feel that.” Madara winked as he rolled his hips just enough to rub their lower bodies against each other in some interesting ways.

He was foiled, however, when Tobirama pulled away with a roll of his eyes.

“Well you can forget about that,” he murmured, turning and heading for the door leading to the bathroom. Madara gaped after him. It was just a bit of teasing, he hadn’t expected the other to take it so poorly.

Although he really should have, actually. He knew exactly how easy it was to offend his lover.

Rather than wallow in apologetic sympathy or even contemplate the idea of fixing the bad mood he had created, Madara allowed a slow, evil grin to cross his face. He had all the ammo he needed now to get back at Tobirama for that incident with the snakes. When they got back home he was going to have a long talk with Hashirama about his brother’s eating habits. Dinner time was war time now.

[angrycollectordaze-me-blog]

Paper代写：Key Factors in Campus Violence

下面为大家整理一篇优秀的paper代写范文- Key Factors in Campus Violence，供大家参考学习，这篇论文讨论了校园暴力。校园暴力是一个严重的问题，它可能会发生在刚入学的时候。在2005年美国大学健康协会发布的校园暴力白皮书中，所有的数据和事实都基于大量的被调查学生，表明这种情况确实存在于美国校园，并从各个方面影响着许多学生。事实上，各种各样的学生都可能成为校园暴力的受害者，比如内向和不太善于交际的学生，嗜酒成瘾的女孩等等。不可否认的是，学生是脆弱的，改变生活的暴力行为很容易扭曲他们的未来。

Campus violence is a serious problem which may happen even when people just enter school. In the Campus Violence White Paper issued by American College Health Association in 2005 (Carr, J.L., 2005), all the data and facts based on a huge amount of students enrolled in the investigation indicated this situation definitely existed in American campuses and affected many students from every aspect. It showed us that 479,000 crimes occurred on college students aged from 18 to 24 each year since 1995 and approximately 1,400 died annually just because injuries related to alcohol. Moreover, about 95 percent of attempted or completed rapes on students were neglected by the victims and only a small proportion of crimes have been reported to the police or law enforcement, which means the circumstances of campus violence maybe much worse than they have already been. Also according to the 2010 NUS (Nation Union of Students) survey mentioned on the Guardian, one in seven female students in Britain have encountered with campus violence and 35 percent of the actions are conducted by people they know well. With no doubt, it is a global concern that the severity of campus violence keeps at a high level and could not be avoided. In fact, all kinds of students could be the victims in the campus violence, such as introvert and less-sociable students, girls addicted to alcohols, et cetera. Fear of retaliation, sense of shame, ignorance and hesitation make some of them keep the secrets inside or silence about the actions, which could result in more acts of violence on them. On the other hand, disclosure and report could bring them humiliation, discrimination from other students and also more reprisal attacks. All the choices seem to be no good to students as the terrible behaviors have already been left on them. The negative influences physically and psychologically on the victims cannot be estimated or calculated and may last their entire life. There are too many examples that students start to lose themselves in drugs and alcohols after the violence in campus devastate them. Therefore, it cannot be denied that students are vulnerable and the life-changing violent actions could easily twist their future.

Annotated Bibliography

Fisher, Bonnie S., Cullen, Francis T. and Turner, Michael G. The sexual victimization of college women: Findings from two national-level studies, National Institute of Justice and Bureau of Justice Statistics, 2000.

This study introduces the sexual victimization behaviors and the influential degree existing on college women. After completing the interviews to 4,446 college women and abstracting the information in the surveys, it summarizes how women students define previous sexual behaviors forced on them, the percentage of college women who had been sexual victimized before starting college and the percentage of incidents that intimate people harass them.

The authors believe the study overcomes the limitation of sample size, subjective opinions and types of violent actions using a telephone survey on the college or university students that are categorized by various factors to make sure the integrity and authenticity of the researches. Also the NCWSV screen questions used in the researches are comprehensive and detailed to help participants clearly and certainly understand whether their experiences are sexual victimization.

The in-depth work and well-estimated data does increase the credibility and persuasiveness of the sexual victimization study. The authors focus on the campus violence on college women only at the perspective of sexual related actions and cover as many details as they can. The concentration helps readers better understand the seriousness and get the full scope of this question.

Sameena M., & Heather H. Gendered Violence and the Ethics of Social Science Research. Violence Against Women, vol.17, no.12, 2011, pp. 1509-1520.

Based on Clark and Walker`s theories, Sameena and Heather analyze philosophically the violent actions on different genders and the ethical questions related to the behaviors. Who would be responsible for the violence and how the activities define in ethics are also research topics. Finally, the authors explain the righteousness and fairness of the researches from the ethical angles.

The violent actions have been regarded as philosophy questions. Unlike other studies about violence, there are no data and actual research objects in this paper. In their opinions, without discrimination and prejudice, women and children are still primary violent victimizations. This conclusion and thought are not the potential consciousness, but the results from analyzing and researching.

Not limited to college women, but the research objects do include them, which means in philosophy they are more vulnerable to be victims. The supplementary study helps the question to be acknowledged in another perspective.

Ladd, G. W., & Kochenderfer-Ladd, B. Identifying victims of peer aggression from early to middle childhood: Analysis of cross-informant data for concordance, estimation of relational adjustment, prevalence of victimization, and characteristics of identified victims. Psychological Assessment, 14, 2002, pp. 74–96.

The authors conduct the researches on two groups of students at different grades. Except for the age, interviewee category is also the variable in this study. Those factors help researchers to find out grown-up students are more trustworthy than children before grade 2 and comprehensive to campus violence.

The ages of investigated students are connected to the maturity and psychological state, which could affect their campus violent behaviors. Students at different stages mentally and physically view the violence and victimization quite diversely, which means age is also a considerable element in evaluating the violent actions.

Number and range of research objects build the value and meaning of this study. The authors use the combined researches to estimate who are vulnerable to be victims in the campus bullies at different ages that could be understood.

Mayhew, Matthew J., Caldwell, Rebecca J., & Goldman, Emily Grey. Defining Campus Violence: A Phenomenological Analysis of Community Stakeholder Perspectives. Journal of College Student Development. 52(3), 2011, pp. 253-269.

Three authors are responsible for their own researches respectively and then construct the study to thoroughly define the campus violence. They have interviewed all kinds of persons in the university community, including students, faculty members and other staffs related to the schools. So the comprehensive concept of campus violence is achieved to help them better understand and consider how to improve the situation.

According to the distinctive answers from people mentioned above, cognitive ability affects their own definition process, which makes the perception of campus violence varies for them. Previous experience, educational level and even personality are all inconclusive factors and the importance of campus violence differs with them.

This study collects broader range of data compared with others to enhance the credibility. As the surveys are based on people with different cognitive abilities, the definition of campus violence could really cover more aspects.

Kerbs, John J., & Jolly, Jennifer M. The Joy of Violence: What about Violence is Fun in Middle-School? Am J Crim Just. 32 (2007): pp. 12–29

Through the conversations with 30 students from grade 6 to 8 in middle school, John and Jennifer discover the understanding of campus violence in young people. They categorize the students who were at the scenes of violent actions into victims, perpetrators and witnesses and then study their thoughts as they are part of the bullies. Personal feeling is the most vital factor in this research, which encourage the authors to focus on.

Why middle school students tease others and how they feel about the actions are root cause of campus violence. The theory that students enjoy and get fun of bullying others truly help people see the reasons and think how to prevent these things happening.

It can be learned from the psychological ideas that lack of cognitive ability misleads and confuses young students. However, the study could be more convincing if increasing the sample size, enlarging the research area and balancing the research characters.

Hypotheses

The first hypothesis of this study is that gender is the key factor in campus violence which indicate that women students are more vulnerable to be victims. It makes violent actions related to women students more serious both physically and mentally.

The second hypothesis of this study is that students at different grades have distinctive understanding of campus violence. Childish and less-educated students are easier to conduct violent activities on peer students.

The third hypothesis of this study is that cognitive ability affects students in recognizing whether their actions are right or not. They may not realize the consequences and influences on the victims. But the ignorant and fatuous actions could result in severe problems.

References:

Ladd, G. W., & Kochenderfer-Ladd, B. (2002). Identifying victims of peer aggression from early to middle childhood: Analysis of cross-informant data for concordance, estimation of relational adjustment, prevalence of victimization, and characteristics of identified victims. Psychological Assessment, 14, 74–96.

Fisher, B. S., Cullen, F. T., & Turner, M. G. (2000). The sexual victimization of college women: Findings from two national-level studies.Washington, DC: National Institute of Justice and Bureau of Justice Statistics.

John J. K., & Jennifer M. J. (2007). The Joy of Violence: What about Violence is Fun

in Middle-School? Am J Crim Just. 32:12–29

Matthew J. M., Rebecca J. C., & Emily G. G. (2011). Defining Campus Violence: A Phenomenological Analysis of Community Stakeholder Perspectives. Journal of College Student Development. 52(3), 253-269.

Sameena M., & Heather H. (2011). Gendered Violence and the Ethics of Social Science Research. Violence Against Women 17(12), 1509-1520.

Carr, J.L. (2005). American College Health Association campus violence white paper. Baltimore, MD: American College Health Association.

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[doctordragon]

I identify as anti-sj not because I'm anti-social justice, but because the movement (on Tumblr at least) has gone from "protecting people's right to live without being persecuted" to "this person did this thing I don't like so I'm going to doxx them and tell them to kill themselves". I'm very much pro-social justice but the movement has been construed into something entirely different. Of course, many antis don't see it that way but that's just my view.

I mean I can understand where someone like you is coming from. There are a lot of behaviors that people on tumblr have done in the name of “social justice” that I think isn’t excusable. It’s never ok to tell someone to kill themselves, doxx them, or literally kill someone for their views (even if those views are terrible awful and should never be excused). Or, the “rules” have become so strict it’s not even ok to have your views change. For example, I saw someone dig back 10 years in the creator of Yuuri on Ice’s tweets to find they said something homophobic... 10 years ago. 

I was referring more to the whole anti-sjw culture and the concept of it. The whole point of being for social justice is that society is deeply flawed and needs to change to fit the needs of people who are hurt by its ideals. So of course, when people say things that harm oppressed groups, those ideas in turn hurt people in those groups so naturally they’re going to be offended. For example the whole “lol look it’s a man in a dress!” joke has hurt a lot of trans women who dress femininely and their expression of themselves is reduced down to “lol look its a man in a dress!”

The whole point of anti-sjw culture is to mock people who are offended by things. You know, things that actually affect them and hurt them in ways that most of them don’t understand (because many of them are white, cis, straight men or any one of those things so they wouldn’t understand oppression other groups face). It’s immature, childish and terrible. It’s kind of like a powerful, strong bully pushing a week kid against the wall and laughing at the kid when they get a bruise if you get my analogy. 

Another main point of anti-sjw culture is playing the victim. I’ve seen things like “cisgender safe space” flags despite the entire world except for maybe some odd corners of this site being a cisgender safe space. If we ignore the kinds of people you’re talking about who will literally harass people for being cis (which, note, I am not excusing), cis people are and never will be in any danger due to being cis. There is no need for cis safe spaces as there is no need for heterosexual pride. You get the idea.

Anti-sjws will also try to play the victim even when people are just like, angry at their oppressors, for you know, oppressing them. For example, lets say a gay kid just came out to his acquaintance and he said something like “ok i support you but don’t hit on me that’s gross.” He later goes on his blog and writes “I hate straight people” because this specific straight person said something that contributes to oppression against gay people. Then, an anti-sjw may take this as an excuse to say that straight people are oppressed because one gay kid was upset that he and his love was looked down on. Back to the bully analogy, this is like a kid getting beat up and coming home to their parents and saying “I hate the bully because they beat me up,” and the parent responding “wow, you hate the bully? that proves you’re actually the bully and you’re no better than them! Clearly they’re the victim!” Meanwhile the kid keeps getting beat up by the bully and nothing gets done because retaliation apparently makes the bully the victim.

Now, anon, I didn’t expect myself to write a response this long. But, just know that when you say you’re anti-sjw and anti social justice, this is the culture and mindset you’re associating yourself with. I agree that some of the things tumblr has done are gross, disgusting and should never be excused, but that doesn’t mean that social justice is wrong in any way or that the actual ideas promoted by “sjws” are inherently wrong.

[raendown]

Pairing: ObitoKakashi Word count: 3048 Summary: Kakashi's style of communication leaves a lot to be desired. It also leaves a lot of room for misinterpretation. (Read: Kakashi can't flirt for shit)

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Speaking Clearly

In Obito’s defense, any person in their right minds wouldn’t have taken it as a compliment. All he could be blamed for was momentarily forgetting that Kakashi was not actually in his right mind. Ever. He was ten and the other boy was coming up on nine and most of their interactions tended to end loudly with frequent violence.

“You’re not totally useless,” Kakashi mumbled after he had beaten the older boy in the fourth spar in a row. Obito puffed up indignantly.

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“It means you’re not a complete idiot; you have at least some use.”

“Hey screw you too, Bakashi!” Obito hitched up the sleeves of his jacket, ready to go in for round five.

He was confused when Kakashi threw both hands in the air with a grumpy mutter of, “Ugh! Never mind!” When his teammate stormed off all he could do was tilt his head to one side and blink in confusion. Kakashi was weird sometimes but Obito could usually tell what he’d done to piss the guy off. This time he had no idea.

*

Two years didn’t really change much between the two of them except perhaps add a little bit of distance and some new things to tease each other about. Kakashi made fun of Obito for constantly outgrowing his clothes and leaving his limbs hanging out. Obito retaliated by making fun of Kakashi’s lack of any growth spurts, leaving him forever the shortest on their team. Minato-sensei did his best to put out the fires that sprang up as they constantly rubbed each other the wrong way.

It was at twelve years old that Obito hit a milestone all shinobi must but few enjoy: his first kill. Only years later would he own up to the fact that it had actually been an accident. Really he had tripped and twisted himself as he fell, rather than executing a backwards roll to avoid a blow as it might have looked to the others. As his body went back and the enemy came forward, Obito’s arm came across at just the right angle to open the woman’s throat. He caught her look of dismayed shock for a split second before arterial spray covered the lenses of his goggles and he was left staring wide-eyed as a splatter of blood.

Rin was the one to lend him a handkerchief so he could shakily wipe the mess of his face. Minato-sensei rubbed his back and asked him in a steady voice if he was alright. It was nice to be treated so gently in that moment because Obito felt a little like glass that had cracked, weakened all over with the possibility of shattering at just the wrong touch.

“Well. Apparently your goggles are good for something after all.”

“Kakashi!” Minato-sensei clicked his tongue. “Now is not the time.”

“What? I was just saying–”

“Don’t be so mean, Kakashi!” Rin jumped in to defend her friend as well, adding her tsk to their sensei’s.

“I wasn’t!” Kakashi protested.

Rin only shook her head and gave him an exasperated look of disappointment. Kakashi growled in frustration and stormed off to throw himself down on the ground at the far edge of the clearing. No force on earth could get him to admit it but anyone could see that he was pouting. However, none of his teammates paid him the slightest bit of attention as Rin and Minato tended to the quivering Obito – and therefore none of them managed to see the way Kakashi craned his neck to see if their efforts were working.

*

Thirteen years of age brought Obito two things, a new appreciation for life and a friend he hadn’t even known he already had.

No one was sure which was the bigger miracle: that Kakashi managed to adapt so quickly to having a Sharingan implanted in his head or that the medical staff were able to repair Obito’s body enough that he would regain full function of all four limbs. Of course, he would live the rest of his life with horrific scaring over nearly 50% of his body, but even he agreed that it was a small price to pay for the ability to continue on with the path he had chosen in life. His career as a shinobi would be slowed only by his recovery time.

Jaws had dropped all across the village as the story spread about how Kakashi and Obito had both tried to sacrifice their lives for the other, especially whenever they were spotted around town bickering just the same as they always had. Despite the fact that Kakashi appeared glued to Obito’s side as he slowly stumped around on his crutches, and although they had both acknowledged the other as a true friend at last, that didn’t mean that either of them had magically changed personalities overnight.

“You got something to say about my face!?” Obito growled at his friend one day after Kakashi had stared at him for much too long in silence. Not intimidated in the slightest, Kakashi huffed.

“Hn. You got some of it in my face.”

“Maybe I’ll just take that eye back then!”

“Just try it, Stumpy!”

Obito hollered and leaned on his good leg so he could lift his crutches to swing them at Kakashi’s head. The younger boy simply skipped nimbly out of the way and snorted in amusement. A more childish person his age would have danced around to taunt the other boy, showing off his mobility, but Kakashi had been striving to be seen as more adult since he was five years old and thought of himself as above that sort of behavior.

So instead he simply stuck his nose in the air, trying not to be obvious about the careful tilt of his head which allowed him to still keep his one eye cracked open so he could keep a watch on Obito.

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “You don’t look at all that different to me so its fine, isn’t it?” The older boy flared and waved his crutches even more wildly.

“Are you trying to say I was already ugly before I got these scars? Stupid Bakashi! Why do you have to be so mean! I’m injured; you’re supposed to be nice to injured people!”

“That – I didn’t say that!”

Obito wasn’t listening. He continued to yell and gripe even long after Kakashi had dropped his face in to his hands with exasperation and hurried to walk ahead of his friend, out of hitting range. By the time they arrived at the dango stall where they were supposed to be meeting Rin both of them were scowling and she wondered what they could have possibly fought about in the three minute walk between here and the hospital.

*

At the ripe old age of fifteen years old Uchiha Obito achieved something that many in his clan had often told him would likely be impossible: he had achieved the rank of jōnin. With the war over field promotions had become less common and he’d had to take the exam like everyone else. Last year he had failed the psychological component but this year was different. This was the year that he made people look at him with respect.

Obito preened and blushed for the entire first hour of the surprise party his friends threw for him, thinking to himself that he couldn’t possibly imagine a single way for his night to get better. His own sensei, now the Hokage, had been the one to bestow him with his new rank. His former classmates, now trusted comrades, were all gathered around him at his favorite BBQ restaurant. Rin sat on his right side and Kakashi on his left, both of their thighs pressed tightly to his own as though if they only squished hard enough the three of them could become one single person. What more could a guy wish for?

For some reason, however, his own accomplishment was not what was on his mind now. Dinner had been finished a while ago and around the table there were several people just finishing dessert. Small groups held different conversations but Obito wasn’t contributing to any of them and neither was the younger boy to his left. Strangely, it was Kakashi that was on his mind.

It was something that he had begun to notice only a few months after the incident at Kannabi Bridge and still persisted to this day. Kakashi, he had noticed, only ever sat on Obito’s left side. He wouldn’t really have thought it odd were it anyone else; with his left eye missing, it was common for a lot of people to instinctively place themselves in his blind spot. That was what comrades did. The only trouble was that Kakashi kept his left eyes covered as well to reduce the chakra drain from the implanted Sharingan and standing on that side left himself at a disadvantage as well. It would have been safer for him to stand on the right where he would be able to watch out for himself.

Displaying an uncommon amount of patience, Obito waited until everyone had left and he and Kakashi were walking home together as they usually did, then he blurted out his question with no thought for graceful phrasing.

“Why do you always stand on my left side?”

“Because you’re blind on the left side,” Kakashi answered promptly. Obito scrunched his nose.

“Yeah well so are you,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to be on the right where you can see?”

“That would leave you open to attack.”

Obito huffed. For a genius, the other sure was being dense. “Sure but now you’re leaving yourself open to attack instead.” Kakashi only shrugged.

“I’m the stronger shinobi so it would be easier for me to survive an attack to my blind spot.”

“Are you calling me weak!? I’m a jōnin now! I’m just as good as you are, you stuck up prick!”

With no further promoting Obito threw himself in to a long rant about how he hadn’t given up on his dream of being Hokage someday and how he was going to make Kakashi kiss his hat when that happened. He was so busy yelling that he never noticed the defeated sigh his friend gave, nor heard the tired murmur of, “That wasn’t what I said at all.”

*

At seventeen years old Obito’s life changed. Of course, his life had already undergone several large changes that had each seemed equally world-stopping at the time. Like all the others, he never even saw this one coming until it crashed down upon him – quite literally.

Bickering with Kakashi wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. To be perfectly honest if a day passed him by without a least one tiny spat with the younger teen Obito usually felt a little off kilter, like he had misplaced something. So walking home from a week-long mission, covered head to toe in dust and with Kakashi buzzing in his ear about something or other, he felt more ordinary than anything else. That didn’t stop him from snarling back when Kakashi implied something particularly offensive.

“Do you purposefully mishear me?” Kakashi demanded as they took a short cut through the alley behind their favorite teahouse. “That – wasn’t – what – I – said!”

“Of course it was!” Obito retorted. He was so used to the noise of disgust the other boy made that his brain filled in the visual of Kakashi throwing his hands in the air without even looking. He never expected for his shoulders to be shoved, turning him about to face his friend.

“No! It wasn’t! You never listen properly, Obi-brat, I was trying to say something else!”

“What then? How the hell was I supposed to take that other than you implying that I’m still slower than you at using jutsu?”

“You – I – would you just – oh for kami’s sake!”

In his wildest dreams Obito never could have predicted Kakashi’s reaction then. He flinched as the straps of his pack were grabbed in a tight grip and his body was shoved back against the wall of the alley. Expecting Kakashi to hit him in the face, he closed his eyes instinctively and braced for impact because as offended as he was he knew the other was actually right. He still wasn’t as fast with his hands as his teammate was.

Half a second later his eyes snapped back open in shock, staring hard at Kakashi’s closed eyelids and trying to process the fact that Hatake Kakashi was kissing him. Actually it was more like ravishing him. For some reason he couldn’t seem to make himself move, either, and so he simply stood still and let himself be thoroughly kissed by his best friend.

Amazingly, he could even see a line of deep red scrawled across the top of Kakashi’s mask when his friend finally pulled away, panting and scowling despite his blush.

“That is what I’ve been trying to say for fucking years now but you just don’t listen! You always misunderstand me and take what I say the wrong way! Baka! Brat! Too stupid to see your own best friend is in love with you! Why do I even like you?”

“You’re…you’re…EH!?”

“All I said was that your hand movements hadn’t improved as much as I thought they would. It was a simple observation, all I was trying to do was offer to help, and all you heard was an insult! Kami you are so freaking dense sometimes it makes me want to scream!”

“Hnngg!?” Obito frantically tried to locate his tongue and remember how to speak so he could say something – anything. He’d never heard Kakashi say so much at once nor speak so passionately about something, not unless he felt very strongly about the subject. Considering his choice of words for describing his feelings, it was apparent that he felt more than just strongly about this.

“I’ve been trying to get this in to your head since I was nine years old but all you ever think I’m doing is being mean. Is that all you see me as? A mean person who just insults you all the time? I try to help! I try to offer you compliments! But nooooo Uchiha Obito wouldn’t see a compliment even if it stripped naked and slapped him in his stupid face! Do you get it now, then? Huh? What about if I got up on the roof of the Hokage Tower and shouted it for the whole village to hear? Hey everyone! I’m in love with Obito and he’s never even noticed! It’s fucking awesome!”

Finally, Obito snapped. If his tongue wasn’t going to listen to him than he was going to have to let his actions speak for themselves. Not giving himself any time to second guess, he reached out and took hold of the straps of Kakashi’s pack like the younger boy had done to him, dragging him back in and cutting off the flow of words with a frantic kiss. Since it was only the second kiss he had ever experienced in his life, he really hoped he was doing it right.

Even if he wasn’t he had a feeling that Kakashi didn’t mind all that much. The sixteen year old let out an honest-to-kami whimper as he fell silent, using his body to press Obito farther in to the wall and framing his face with two pale hands. He was blushing even harder than before by the time the kiss was finished.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he murmured, ever so slowly stepping back. Obito raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah that was weird.” Kakashi’s entire body froze in place and Obito panicked, hurrying to correct himself. “No not the kiss! The kiss was awesome! Totally down for that! Just the yelling I mean, that was weird.”

“Really?” It was strange to hear Kakashi say anything such a small voice.

“Of course!”

“By ‘totally down’ do you mean you…I mean…could I…uhm…we…I know you always had a thing for Rin…don’t want to come between anything…”

Obito stared in awe as Kakashi slowly shrank down in to himself more and more the longer he continued to stammer. Just the fact that he was stammering at all was enough to blow the older teen’s mind, but the shyness threatened to overload him completely. If there was one thing Kakashi was not, it was shy. Although it took almost a full minute and his friend looked nearly ready to turn tail and run by the time he did, Obito finally got his brain back on track enough to speak again.

“I got over Rin years ago,” he pointed out softly. “So maybe we could, erm, go on a date sometime?”

“Really!?” Kakashi’s head snapped up and even through the mask it was obvious that his jaw had dropped with shock.

“Uh huh.” Now blushing himself, Obito shuffled his feet. “You could kiss me again first, though. I mean, if you want to or whatever.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

Despite his words, at first Kakashi only manage to stand there while the two of them stared at each other awkwardly. They were both blushing fiercely and it only worsened when he finally plucked up the courage to slowly lean forward, touching his masked lips to Obito’s much more gently this time. Either he gained confidence quickly or simply lost himself in the moment, but whichever it was it only took a few moments before he had brought their bodies close together again, standing well inside Obito’s personal space so their hearts were nearly beating against each other.

“So,” Obito murmured against his friend’s mouth. “This is kind of hard to misinterpret.” Kakashi huffed out a laugh.

“Took you long enough to get it,” he complained lightly.

“Not my fault. You are obviously terrible at flirting.”

“Maybe if you didn’t jump to conclusions so easily–”

“You better shut up and kiss me again right now or I’m gonna start another fight and ruin the moment. Less bitchin’, more kissin’.”

Kakashi had to take the time to laugh first but he did listen for once in his life. Obito figured he could be satisfied with that for now.