#school reports say i am too clever for my own good

[crawlingbetweenearthandheaven]

what's your worst traits?

failure to think before i act and general impulsivity; bad temper i don't think i'll grow out of at this point; can be arrogant

[amalthea-fictions]

Don’t Mess with MC

Summary: When Sebastian hears about MC’s encounter with a bully her first day in Beasts Class, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: Inspired by this post from @hogwartslegacypics and some of the comments there! The bully’s name is a play on “Leighton Lawley” from The Raven and the Snake by choccy-milky 😅 Hope you enjoy!

“There she is!”

Sebastian flashes MC a wide smile as she jogs over from across the courtyard. Even without being able to see, Ominis can sense the way Sebastian instantly perks at the girl’s presence.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” MC apologizes, setting her things down and taking a seat on the stone bench next to Sebastian.

“Not at all,” says Ominis.

“Got held up in Beasts Class, did you?” Sebastian makes the inquiry through his first bite of his lunch.

“Not quite,” MC says, pulling her own food from her pack. “I made a new friend, actually.”

Sebastian dramatically flourishes his hand against his chest. “What, Ominis and I not good enough for you?”

MC laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. The two of you are invaluable to me.”

“Best not to exaggerate, lest it go straight to Sebastian’s head,” Ominis tuts. Sebastian smacks his shoulder.

“It’s not an exaggeration, though!” MC insists.

“Thank you!” Says Sebastian. “At least someone here has my side.”

“Do go on, then,” Ominis prods, ignoring Sebastian. “I, for one, would like to hear about your Beasts Class.”

“Mm,” MC nods through a mouthful of food. “Yes. I was partnered with Poppy Sweeting, who was very kind to me. She even let me keep her brush.”

“Wow, Poppy gave you her beasts brush?” Sebastian says. “You must’ve made quite the impression on her.”

“Indeed. Poppy has a…” Ominis hesitates, finding the polite word. “Reputation for her love of beasts in the school.”

“Hm, perhaps that’s why we hit it off,” MC speculates.

“How do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

“Well, there were some awful bullies picking on a Kneazle—”

Sebastian leans forward. “Bullies?”

“Yes,” MC nods, continuing her lunch. “They were trying to steal a whisker from the thing. Poppy defended the creature, but they mocked her for it. So I stepped in and told them they really weren’t clever for it.”

Sebastian sets his jaw. “Who were they?”

MC quirks her lips. “I’m not entirely sure— I think it was Leight something?”

“Leightly Lawton,” Ominis offers.

“Yes, that was him. Awful fellow.”

Sebastian hums to himself, his brow furrowed. MC had won Crossed Wands, yes, but he had heard the rumors that it was only through his help. Not many people in the school are aware of how talented MC truly is— how, on top of her unyielding kindness and patience, she is an incredibly talented and powerful force, truly in her own league. Out of all the students in the entire school, even 7th years, he wouldn’t pick anyone else he’d want to have his back clearing out a cave full of spiders. And yet, idiots like Lawton would be unkind because of stupid rumors.

“You said you have a Rudimentary Beasts Class, yes?” He asks.

“That’s right,” MC nods. “Why?”

“Oh, just wondering.”

• • • • •

“Professor Weasley, do you have a moment? I’d like to discuss enrolling in the Rudimentary Beasts Class.”

Professor Weasley dips her quill in ink and continues scrawling on the parchment in front of her. “Rudimentary Beasts Class, you say?”

Sebastian nods. “Yes ma’am.”

She finishes her sentence in the menial report for Professor Black and looks up to the boy. “If I recall correctly, Mr. Sallow, you completed your Introductory Beasts Class in third year with no issues.”

Sebastian offers her a charming smile. “That’s correct. However, with O.W.L.’s right around the corner, I am finding I could stand to be refreshed on all I learned third year.”

Matilda sets down her quill and folds her hands. “And you believe you are truly in need of such refreshers, Mr. Sallow?”

He nods earnestly. “Indeed. For example, MC had to recently remind me that spiders are not actually insects.”

Ah, there it is— the real reason behind the request. After years of working as Hogwarts faculty, Matilda has had quite enough practice schooling her expression. So her neutral face went unchanged at the mention of MC’s name. But she wondered how oblivious students thought their faculty truly were, to assume that they wouldn’t catch on to how often the Sallow twin and the new fifth year were seen together, smiling sweetly at each other, laughing and sharing lunches…

However, enrolling in an additional class certainly wasn’t the worst request to make, and Sallow could certainly handle his schoolwork when he actually wanted to pursue something.

“Spiders as insects? My, that is quite discomforting,” Professor Weasley raises her eyebrows. “But are you certain you can handle the additional course in your schedule, Mr. Sallow?”

“Yes ma’am. I think if anything it will be good to keep me occupied with more schoolwork. Staying out of detention, and all that.”

Clever boy. Couldn’t argue with that. “Very well, Mr. Sallow. I will add the Rudimentary Beasts Class to your schedule. However, please note that the second your marks drop, we will revisit this conversation.”

“Of course, Professor. Thank you.”

Matilda doesn’t miss the way that he smiles brightly as he leaves, and heads straight in the direction of MC’s Common Room.

• • • • •

Sebastian wakes up early to make sure he’s the first one to Beasts Class. (Something Ominis would add to his list of ‘things Sebastian does for MC’ to tease him over, later on).

As the class time approaches, the students begin trickling in. Poppy goes straight to the Kneazle pens to feed them. Everett shuffles in begrudgingly, still recovering from a bought of the flu that kept him out of classes even in spite of Sharp’s Pepperup potions. And finally—

“Sallow?” Even from the entry of the pavilion, Sebastian can see the way Lawton’s throat works at the sight of his new classmate.

“Ah, Leight!” Sebastian smiles— but his eyes narrow and expression darkens. “I’ve just transferred into this class. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Lawton swallows. “Yes, a pleasure. But, um, what made you transfer?”

Sebastian smiles and says, “No reason in particular,” but his icy glare says otherwise.

The boy waits for Sebastian to elaborate. Instead, Sebastian maintains eye contact until Lawton begins to shuffle nervously. Finally, he awkwardly moves to his desk. Sebastian follows him with his gaze, making the bully squirm. Until—

“Sebastian?!”

He snaps towards the voice. MC is beaming as she enters the pavilion, framed in sunlight trickling down through the surrounding trees.

Sebastian utterly melts at the sight.

“Are you in my beasts class now?” MC inquires, ecstatic.

��Indeed I am,” he smiles to her—and, this time his eyes filled with nothing but warmth. Lawton would not fail to notice the difference.

She sets her things down beside Sebastian, and he happily makes room for her. As she settles and unpacks her things, Sebastian leans over her.

“Are these all of the materials I’ll need for class?” He asks, one arm framing her figure as he gestures to her brush and kibble.

“I believe so, but mind I’m still relatively new as well,” she says. As she speaks, Sebastian isn’t looking at her. He’s slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Lawton.

“Are these things any different from when you took the class in third year?” MC asks, rummaging through her bag for her quill.

Sebastian is still wrapped around her. “Oh,” he says, looking directly at Lawton. “I think this time around will be much different.”

Sebastian is sure that if Lawton were to retract into his shirt collar any further, he would become a turtle.

“Oh, but wait!” MC gasps, looking up. “If you’re my partner, there will be an uneven amount of students. I don’t want Poppy to be alone again.”

“Actually, there will not be an odd number of students,” says a new voice from behind them both.

Sebastian and MC spin around.

“Natty!” MC exclaims. “You’re in this class now, too?”

Natty clasps her hands together and smiles. “I am. I am happy that we can be here together.”

“Me too!”

Sebastian and Natty lock eyes. The small smirk on Natty’s face may have been lost to MC as her just being happy to be there, but it was a loud and clear signal to Sebastian.

“Actually, MC,” he says, “I think you probably couldn’t have a more knowledgeable partner than Poppy Sweeting for this class. I think you would be better off to stay with her.”

“Oh,” MC tilts her head, “will you and Natty partner then?”

“Actually, I think it would be best to differentiate, so that the new students are not together,” Natty says thoughtfully.

“Exactly!” Sebastian follows up loudly. “I can partner with Leightly. We are in the same house, after all.”

“And I will take Leightly’s previous partner,” says Natty.

Sebastian casts a wicked smile and waves with fake enthusiasm to Lawton— who has gone completely pale.

Poppy enters the pavilion and MC moves to excitedly explain how all of her friends are now in the same class together. Sebastian takes the opportunity to stride over to his new partner.

Lawton flinches as Sebastian throws his arm over the boy’s shoulder.

“This is going to be a fantastic semester, don’t you think, Leightly?”

[igotbulletproof-insomnia]

Adopting Bangtan 06

01, 02, 03, 04, 05

Park Jimin & Kim Taehyung, age 8

Song Jieun is your favorite secretary at the school you work at. She’s like some coffee fairy the way she seems to magically know exactly when you need a fresh cup and you only needed to tell her how you liked it exactly one time. She is also endearingly sweet and hardworking, even if she has a penchant for losing things easily. It’s for that very reason why you are rarely surprised when Jieun approaches your desk in the staff room, like she does now, wearing a sheepish smile.

“What did you lose this time?” you question teasingly.

“I… may have misplaced a few copies of the kids’ grade reports…” she winces at the admission. “I think I threw them away by accident. I spent some time clearing out my things yesterday.”

“That’s right, my coffee fairy is moving to Gwangju,” your face twitches into a brief, playful pout. “How are the boys dealing with the change?”

“They’re fine,” she says quickly. “I’m a bit worried, but they’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” you ask, beginning to sign the small stack of papers. You flip the bottom half of the sheets up just enough to see the line at the bottom that you need to sign. You read them all just a few days ago, there’s no need to do it again.

“My fiance has been hinting that he doesn’t want to raise any step-children,” she explains, her voice tense with worry. “He’s especially concerned about my step-son from my last marriage… Heesung wants me to leave them in a boarding school here in Seoul. He’ll pay for their tuition but… I don’t really feel comfortable. They’re so young... I just don’t want him to leave me this close to the wedding.”

“He’s an idiot if he wants to leave you for being a good mother,” you tell Jieun firmly, but gently. “But I guess I understand the concern. I know you’ll do what’s best for the kids, you’re a good woman like that.” You pause, then flash another teasing smile. “I mean, you could just give them to me. I’m apparently running an orphanage at home.”

“Your boys are still bringing home strays?”

“I think I’ve gotten them to understand that they can’t bring home every sad kid and expect me to keep them. They usually have to go home eventually.” You finish signing the last of the forms.

“They have big hearts, I’m sure they learned that from you.”

“Yes, I taught them how to love,” you scoff indignantly. “If only they would learn to pee in the toilet, I might be a little nicer.”

“You love them,”

“Yes, I really do.”

Saturday evenings are chaotic.

As the parent of four preteen boys (and one first grader), almost everyday is chaotic. There is homework and music and video games and dance practice and guitar playing and piano lessons and why are all of these kids so dramatic, you didn’t raise them like this!

“Yah, I have three years more experience than you, how are you going to tell me --”

“Hyung, the answer is literally right there,” Namjoon sniggered, pointing.

“Listen, you brat --”

“The only brat I see here is you, Seokjin,” you sigh, breezing into the kitchen. Seokjin and Namjoon are perched on stools at the kitchen island, occupied with their homework. They were both clever kids, but Seokjin tended to get frustrated easily, and Namjoon was too quick for his own good. The two fought a lot, but they also depended on one another a lot; Namjoon would help Seokjin with the parts of his homework that became too frustrating and Seokjin would fluster Namjoon to the point where the kid acted his own age. “The others finished already?”

“Yoongi decided to stay at school and work with his friends,” Seokjin answers. “Hoseokie is playing with Kookie in their room. I think they’re building.”

“Okay, good,” you nod, “but that doesn’t explain why the TV is blasting Epik High.” Seokjin doesn’t bother verbalizing an answer, just turns to pointedly stare at Namjoon.

“They make good music!”

“And I am not arguing that point,” you agree. “I’m just saying that I could hear Mithra all the way down the hall before I even got to our floor.”

“That’s impossible, the volume isn’t that loud.”

“Namjoon,” Hoseok comes running into the kitchen. “You need to turn the music down our --” Hoseok stops in his tracks, almost slipping on the kitchen tile. “Oh, hi!”

“What were you saying, Hoseok-ah?”

“Um… I got a text, Joonie. Turn the music down.”

“Uh-huh, and how long ago did I send that text?”

“Uhm… about seven minutes ago?”

“And where, Namjoon, would I have been seven minutes ago?”

“Downstairs…” Namjoon suddenly finds the kitchen lights very interesting, the expression on his face imitating innocence.

“Uh-huh. Go fix it, please,” you roll your eyes. “This is the second time I’ve had to talk to you about your music being too loud. If it happens again I’ll be a week late paying for your subscription.” The fact that it had only been a guess that Namjoon had been blasting his music again was going to go completely unmentioned.

“Got it, won’t happen again,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Hoseok-ah,” you address the kid sneaking out of the kitchen. Your tone implies he’s in trouble and he stiffens. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering which of his shenanigans you may have found out about and which ones would have actually gotten him into trouble. Hoseok is a bit of a wild child when he gets into the right mood, but for the most part he’s actually the easiest one to take care of. They’re all relatively easy and well-mannered children, but they all have their bouts of difficulty. “Please try to deliver my messages promptly, not ten minutes later.” You let the scolding settle before adding, “Also, it’s your turn to choose dinner.” The face Hoseok makes in response, the sheepish, oh, right, I forgot, grin is adorable and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Can we get takeout?”

“Depends where from,” you reply as the doorbell rings.

“Can we please not do Jiwon-ssi’s dumplings again? I’m going to be sick,” Seokjin whines.

“Jiwon-ssi makes the best kimchi!”

You leave the boys to argue in the kitchen while you go answer the doorbell, which rings for the second time. Whoever is at the door is awfully impatient, you think, either that or just obnoxious. The apartment isn’t that big, although it is the biggest one you could find on your budget. Three bedrooms, one toilet, a balcony, kitchen, and living room. Yoongi and Seokjin share one room together with Jungkook while Namjoon and Hoseok share another. The space was a bit cramped, but It isn’t the one bedroom apartment you had when you adopted Namjoon, and it isn’t the two bedroom apartment from when you adopted Seokjin and then Hoseok a few months ago. It’s comfortable, and that’s what’s important.

“Seokjin,” you call while walking to the door, “it’s Hoseokie’s choice. Hoseokie, if Jiwon starts flirting with me again, I will hide your lucky sweatpants in some place you will never find them again.”

You open the door, Hoseok’s indignant spluttering and Namjoon’s cackling behind you. It’s a sort of chaos you’ve grown accustomed to, and it fills you with a warm feeling in your heart. You love these boys and are so happy to have met them and received the chance to raise them.

There are two more kids on the other side of the door.

“Um. Hi.”

“Hello!” One of the boys greet and they both bow to you. You blink at them. They’re cute, but you don’t exactly understand why they’re asking for you. “Thank you for taking us in!”

“What?”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You said you can’t adopt more!”

“I… don’t…” you trail off, lost and confused. “What?”

“Mommy said me and Jiminie can live with you when she gets married,” the same boy who spoke earlier explained. His face is rather round, dark eyes framed with thick eyelashes. The other one is paler, features softer, prettier. “She said to give you this.” He holds out a piece of paper, one detailing the transferring of parental rights from Song Jieun to yourself. With your signature at the bottom.

“You’re Song Jieun’s kids?” you ask them, just to be sure. Both boys nod.

“Mommy also wanted me to give you…” the same boy starts searching through his pockets, mumbling to himself that I know I had it somewhere… I had it when we left… did I lose it on the bus? Eventually, the smaller one taps his brother on the shoulder and points to the front pocket of his bookbag. “Oh right! Thanks! Here.” the kid thrusts yet another piece of paper at you, this one a handwritten note written on good cardstock.

“Saem,” Seokjin speaks from just behind your shoulder now, “did you seriously fall for the same trick twice?”

“What trick?” You ask absentmindedly, reading the heartfelt apology. Apparently, that day when you signed those grade reports, Jieun slipped in a guardianship form and you unwittingly signed it.

“I gave you a bunch of things to sign and you didn’t even read them, you just signed it all,” your eldest replies. “I did that three years ago. How did you not learn yet?”

“Is that what happened?” You gape at him.

“Yes, but we aren’t talking about me right now,” Seokjin deflected. “We’re talking about you adopting more kids.”

“Um,” that same kid, the one with the thick eye lashes, cuts in. “Can we come in?” It’s a fair question, and in spite of the confusion and frustration in your heart, you know you aren’t going to send these kids back to Jieun and her new husband. She had already expressed her concern for these kids, and they aren’t even old enough to start middle school. How are they going to live in an apartment on their own? You stole Yoongi for that exact reason so you aren’t going to be a hypocrite now and turn these two boys away, even if you have no idea what you would do with seven children.

At least these two come with an added paycheck. And okay, that is bad, that is very, very bad. It isn’t nice to think of these innocent children as a paycheck, but it helps. You are struggling to take care of the five you already have, receiving extra money for the extra mouths is nice. At least Jieun was considerate about throwing her kids at you.

“Hello,” Namjoon waved. He hasn’t moved from his seat on the sofa, remote still in hand. Map the Soul is playing at a more sensible level, and it's a testament to Namjoon’s interest in the situation because he normally skips this song. “I’m Namjoon. Welcome to our home.”

“I’m Seokjin,”

“I’m Hoseok,”

“And I’m Jungkookie!”

“When did you get here?” you ask your youngest, surprised to see him.

“I heard the doorbell.”

“Right, my children are nosey, awesome,” you mumble to yourself. “Hoseok, let these boys stay with you and Joonie for now, okay? Boys what are your names again?”

“I’m Taehyung,” says the same child who’s done all of the talking so far. “This is my brother, Jimin. He’s quiet and doesn’t like to talk.”

“That’s okay. We were going to order dinner soon. Are you boys hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” Taehyung grinned.

“Of course you are, you’re a young boy. This lot will eat me out of house and home if I let them.”

“Your house is your home, you’re being redundant,” Namjoon scoffs, going back into the kitchen to finish his homework.

“I fail to see where I’m wrong though.”

“I volunteer to not tell Yoongi we’re adopting more kids,” Hoseok laughs as he leads Jimin and Taehyung away.

“One, two, three, not it!” The rest of the boys shout.

“Hey, I’m the parent here! Why are you behaving like I’m afraid of a twelve-year-old?!”

07

[madd-information]

Have you watched Kati Morton's new video about Maladaptive Daydreaming? What do you think about it?

[intro]

For years, I believed maladaptive daydreaming to be a form of dissociation, but it could also be added to the DSM as its own diagnosis, since it does have its own set of unique symptoms. Either way, at this time maladaptive daydreaming is not listed in the DSM as a diagnosable mental illness.

I was concerned because her last couple videos on the topic were very confusing to watch and seemed to conflate MD with the inner-worlds of DID.  It looks like she has done some more research on it and is going to make a more informed video. This is great and I deeply appreciate that she’s taking the time to do a proper dive into this. 

The closest diagnosis would be DPDR, or depersonalization derealization disorder. And this is the diagnosis given to those of us who struggle with dissociation. [explanation of DPDR]

Gonna need you to source that Katie, I’ve never heard an MD researcher say something like this.  When they talk about MD they call it a behavioral addiction with OCD features which is related to dissociative absorption (different from derealization and depersonalization, these two dissociative experiences are not particularly significant in MD, though they can happen.)

These experiences are extremely common. It's estimated that half of all adults have had at least one episode of DPDR. 50% of people. That is a huge amount of people.

Cool but not sure it’s at all relevant to the video topic. 

Also, it's important to mention that in 2016, four researchers put together the Maladaptive Daydreaming Scale, or MDS. This is a 14-item self-reported scale, meaning that you as the patient answers 14 questions based on your own maladaptive daydreaming experience.

It’s a 16 item scale now, it was changed very early on and has been 16 for years.  This is a very small and forgivable knitpick, just fyi. 

The MDS focuses on the content of our daydreams, how intense the urge to continue daydreaming is, and how much it impairs our ability to function in our lives, and the benefits and costs of our daydreaming. I am not personally familiar with this scale, nor have I used it in my practice, but I've linked the research article in the description if you wanna learn more about it.

A good description, and here’s that link again for anyone who wants to read about the finer details of this scale. 

When it comes to maladaptive daydreaming, it isn't just feeling out of body or environment. We can create very intense and detailed daydreams with plots, characters, and very lifelike issues and storylines. Some people will get the plots for their daydreams from their real lives, while others can create a utopian place unlike their current experience.

Yep, decent overview of content, though content doesn’t matter that much.  Also, use of “we”.  Is Katie Morton an MDer or was this a creative choice?  I don’t know, just a passing thought. 

We can find ourselves staying in these daydreams for various amounts of time. And some of my patients have reported staying in them for hours. And many of you have let me know that you struggle to get out of them at all, spending days in this other life that we've created.

Yep, good overview, but more importantly she’s listening to her patients and the feedback of MDers in her audience.

...there are many causes for this, and the first I wanna address is trauma triggers. If we've experienced a trauma in our life, things that remind us of that time or situation can pull us into a flashback, cause us to dissociate, or in many cases push us into our maladaptive daydreams.

When our brain and the rest of our nervous system feels overwhelmed and unable to deal with what's going on in the moment, it can pull us out of our current situation through dissociation. I always talk about that, like our brain pulling the ripcord. And it can also utilize maladaptive daydreaming. It's a way to cope or get through an overwhelming situation when we don't have other skills to help calm our nervous system down. So we just rely on what we know, and that can be daydreaming or dissociating. It's almost like this coping skill protects us from having to feel traumatized again and so it takes us away, you know, drops us into a much safer and happier place.

Trauma is always talked about first when people do overviews of MD.  She’s not wrong but just to add more information;  about a quarter of MDers report trauma, the other 75(ish)% don’t.  It’s a significant number but trauma is not the only pathway to MD.  Sometimes people walk away from these videos feeling like “well, I don’t have any trauma, maybe I don’t really have MD”.  That’s not a comment on what Katie has presented, she does go into other things below, just adding on.

Another cause or trigger can be high levels of stress or anxiety. We can slowly feel ourselves become more and more overwhelmed until our brain pulls us out of our reality and into a new one, aka our maladaptive daydreams. In short, we can want to stay in these daydreams to feel better and safer, but it can get in the way of us functioning in our life.

Yep

[audience anecdotes]

...Which is why even the term maladaptive daydreaming is used. Maladaptive means it's not providing adequate or appropriate adjustment to the environment or situation. So the daydreaming is only holding off the bad things. It's not actually making anything better or helping us process any of the upset. It's really just a temporary check-out, which can be helpful sometimes, but if it's happening all the time or making it hard for us to focus at work, school, or with our friends and family, we should find other, better ways to cope.

Exactly.

Which moves us into how we can better cope so that we don't get sucked into our daydreams for hours, days, or even weeks. And first up is mindfulness. Now, I know that term is overused now and super annoying but in order for us to know when we even need to use other coping skills, we have to know when the daydreaming urges are happening. So often we aren't aware of what we were feeling or thinking until it's too late and we're already pulled into our daydream. And at that point it's more difficult or even impossible for us to pull ourselves out. Therefore, we have to start being more aware of what we're going through.

[continues explanation]

Perfection.

And so next is figuring out ways to calm our system down. This can take the form of a distraction technique like going for a walk or organizing a part of our home, coloring, watching a show, playing a video game, you name it. These calming things could also be more process-based, things like journaling or talking to your therapist or a friend about it, or even using an impulse log. [Continues with calming things]

Good examples, MD researchers specifically recommend keeping a log.

We're also going to have to find some coping skills that we can use when we're starting to feel overwhelmed and wanting to go back into the daydream. Maybe we hold an ice cube in our hands, clap our hands, count the number of things in the room that are blue, brown, black… whatever works for you, do it.

Good stuff. 

And it's okay for something not to work. We just have to try it to know and then move on to something else.

Important point to make, happy to see this. 

Once we have a few things that work, write them down in your phone or on a post-it note so that you can see it and be reminded when you need it. We will also need to come up with some ways to pull ourselves out of the daydream. And I know this is gonna be harder and we may even wanna call upon helpful and supportive people in our lives to assist us.

Good advise. 

We could, because it's our daydream, right, we could put a big door in our daydream and we can choose to go through it and pull ourselves out, or have people in the daydream that remind us of our real life and tell us to go back.

A good suggestion.  Q, on the Parallel Lives Podcast (I can’t remember which episode off the top of my head), did something like this by turning to his characters and saying “ok, take 5 guys, we’ll pick it up at xtime”, and many people have found that to be a clever and helpful method. 

Now, I know this is really, really hard… which rolls into my final tip, which is to work with a therapist to heal from the trauma or to learn how to better cope with the anxiety or stress we're feeling. Working to heal or process through the reason our maladaptive daydreaming exists in the first place will ensure that we don't need it anymore.

Absolutely seek professional support if you can. 

... if we heal the issue we're struggling to cope with, the urge to use those unhelpful coping skills will go away altogether.

[outro]

I think this last point will frighten a lot of MDers.  It’s probably the brevity of the video that didn’t allow her to really expand on this, and I certainly don’t want to put words into her mouth that she may not have intended.  Don’t be afraid of losing your MD.  “Curing” Maladaptive Daydreaming does not mean “I’ll never see my world again.”  You’ll always have the capacity to daydream like this, you were born this way, but it *doesn’t* have to be maladaptive. Like overeating, you will never not eat, you will fix your relationship with food. 

Good video overall, brief but accurate and includes the standard helpful advise. 

[onomonopetabread]

Declawing the Cat- Chapter 2

“ Can you believe that nerve of that jerk?”

Marinette was absolutely furious. Tikki watched her from the bed as she paced from wall to wall. It was really getting concerning; she’s been ranting for the past three hours. School ended about five hours ago, but Marinette’s little encounter with Felix never left her mind.

“What, did he think that a few thoughtless compliments would get me to trust him? Who does he think he is, the MaYOR?”

That last part was a particularly loud shriek, and if Tikki had eardrums, they would be completely shattered by now. It was time to stop this madness.

“Mari, I know that you’re upset, and trust me, I am too. But… don’t you think that you should calm down? You’ve been at this for a really long time.”

Marinette hardly heard her. “I really tried. I tried to just leave it alone. But nooo, he just had to go and rock the boat! Can’t the guy take a hint? I mean, if someone didn’t talk to ME after giving the third fakest apology given ever, I would know that they hated MY guts.”

“Why should we trust anything he has to say? He hasn’t exactly given us any reason to like him.”

“Yeah, how can you expect us to just become friends with us after what he did? He’s a liar!”

The group gathered around Felix. He’d just been introduced to the class by Adrien, and it didn’t seem as though they were very happy to see him. They were making so much noise that no one had noticed the lack of a certain blue-eyed class president. Unbeknownst to them, Marinette was crouched behind a pillar near the courtyard, watching and listening to the entire thing.

She had been uncharacteristically early to school and was chatting with Tikki in the locker room when she heard Adrien’s voice outside. Naturally, she'd begun to walk outside to greet him. The fact that she had decided to try to get over him out of respect for Kagami doesn’t make it illegal for her to talk to him; he is her friend.

When Marinette first stepped out of the room, her first thought was that there were somehow two Adriens. Then she realized that one Adrien looked like...Adrien, and the other looked like a sad old man somehow ended up in a teen’s body. In about 0.2 seconds, she was absolutely seething. What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he at his comfortable home in the ninth circle of hell?

“Guys, this is my cousin Felix. He’s going to be attending school with us for now on. I know you guys will take him in with open arms.”

Open arms? This clown? Marinette scoffed. She’d sooner swallow a cup of tacks than let that prick into her life. Her classmates however, aren’t as strong-minded as she was. It’d probably be better if she stayed silent and invisible for this and let them make up their own minds about this, just to see what they would do.

“Why should we trust anything he has to say? He hasn’t exactly given us any reason to like him.”

“Yeah, how can you expect us to just become friends with us after what he did? He’s a liar!”

Okay, so far so good. Maybe this time around, she wouldn’t be (almost) the only person that didn’t trust a liar. Oh, how great it will be to openly loathe for once! One by one, more and more voices were protesting letting the rat into their friend group. The entirety of the class was hanging Formally-Dressed Draco to dry, and Marinette was in ecstasy.

‘Yes,’ she thought. ‘Tear him to pieces!’

Just when things were really starting to escalate, the sound of someone clearing their throats cut through the noise.

“Hello, everyone. As Adrien just told you, my name is Felix Graham de Vanily. To answer your question, Mr. Le Chein, yes, I’m the cousin of Adrien’s that impersonated him and sent you a cruel response to your heartfelt videos. For that, I am deeply sorry. I have no excuse for wha-”

What. In. The. World. If Marinette was furious before, she was positively incandescent now. He really was another Lila! Not to mention the fact that he didn’t even have the decency to make the apology seem even slightly convincing. Anyone with an EQ of 3 could see that those puppy-eyes were rehearsed and don’t even get Mari STARTED on that pout. There was no way that her class would buy this, but by the looks on their faces…

“If you’re really sorry...”

…Of course. Of-freaking-course they would believe him. Marinette sighed and walked into the classroom. Once again, she was left to hold the class’ single brain cell, by herself this time since there was no chance in Adrien distrusting his own cousin. Now how was she going to go about this was the question. If he really is Lila 2.0, then her initial plan to outright hate him will boomerang her right in the eye. No, it’s better to just avoid him at all costs; you can’t hate what you never come into contact with.

“Are you really sure that’s going to work, Marinette?” Tikki asked once they were safe inside the room. “You can’t stay away from him forever, you know. He may be a nuthead, but he’s smart enough to notice when you aren’t fawning over him like the others.”

“I know Tikki, but I think I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I’m going to go above and beyond to make sure our paths never cross.”

“That’s a relief. I thought for a moment there that you were going to do the rational thing for once.”

“Really, Tikki? Sarcasm? That’s beneath you.”

“If you’re looking for a finger to point, blame Plagg. You pick it up after being with him for a few thousand years.”

Marinette stayed true to her word and made it her mission to never be in the same room as the Great Disturbance unless it was class time. Even then, she kept a compact with her so that she could see if he was coming up behind her. Whenever someone began to bring him up into a conversation, she would quickly but subtly change the subject.

After a few days of this, she seemed to really be getting the hang of it. Avoiding him was becoming second nature to Mari. It actually would have been way easier for her if the demon hadn’t kept trying to collect her soul. Like always, Tikki had been right. The little son-of-a caught on to her really quickly and didn’t hesitate to try to reach out to her. In fact, the other classmates would often tell her that he had been looking for her, and she’d had to act as though she didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. That part hadn’t been so easy.

“So, what are you going to make for the big competition, Mari? A dress maybe?” asked Alya.

“Actually, I was thinking about sewing up a pair of suits. I’m not sure what they’ll look like yet, but I really want to try something new this time.”

“Well, I know whatever you’ll make will blow their socks off, girl. Speaking of designers, Felix told me to ask you to meet him after school . He said he wants to talk to you.”

“Is that so?” Marinette asked, feigning surprise (see bane-of-existence, you’re not the only person who can act here).

“Yeah, he really seemed to have taken an interest in you. All he ever asks us is what you're up to. It’s almost an obsession. Do I sense a little romance here? Another blond-haired green-eyed love interest?”

“Not very likely, Alya. Anyways, I guess I’ll have to talk to him later. So, are you going to tell me about your new reporting piece or what?”

What? Don’t give me that face, it’s technically not a lie; Mari did end up talking to him later, didn’t she? Though, to be fair, she wasn’t planning on actually interacting with him until they both passed. No, not passing class. The other pass.

One thing that she had learned about the knock-off Five Hargreeves was that she had greatly overestimated him. For the love, the kid wasn’t fit to kiss Lila’s feet. At least her schemes were clever and thought-through; this amaetur just existed and everything was handed to him on a silver platter. The rest of the class has spoiled him into thinking that it would be easy to capture her attention with a tense grimace of a smile and two ounces of ‘charm’. Unfortunately for him, Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so easily bought.

So, that’s the way it went for a few weeks; a classic game of cat and mouse. He would try to catch her, and she would slip out of reach at the last minute. If she had to admit it, it was very fun, especially sneaking peeks at the frustrated faces the devil makes when he thinks no one is looking; the coward can’t be emotionally vulnerable for a second.

That’s why she felt so sure that he wouldn’t follow her to the park; the place was way too open for a stand-offish guy like him. She was very safe in the great outdoors with nothing but her sketchpad, a sharpened pencil, and a sleeping Tikki in her purse. She had been working on that design that she was talking about with Alya. Marinette really needed this design to be perfect. Perhaps a double-breasted suit would work? How many buttons would she have to buy? If she was any deeper into her work, she might not have noticed the distinct smell of leather and the tears of the innocents approaching her. She just barely retained her composure.

‘What is he doing here? Whatever, perhaps if I just stay completely still, he’ll go away.”

“Ah, Ms. Dupain-Cheng! How lovely it is to see you. We never seem to talk, do we? It is quite a shame really.”

‘It would also be a shame if you were to get punched where the sun doesn’t shine, Mr. Pied Piper’, Marinette thought. Alas, no matter how much she wanted to move her hand like so, she couldn’t let him win this fight. No, just silent-treatment it out and pray he either leaves or gets struck with a lightning bolt.

“I must say, that is a lovely suit you’re designing there. I love the use of gold thread on the pants. If I may make a few suggestions-”

Him? Give fashion advice? Marinette would rather NOT learn how to dress like an off-brand Crowly, thank you very much. Good grief, he really wasn’t going to stop trying, was he? Alright, no more Nice Marinette.

That’s when she finally snapped and, well, you know how that went. Had it been ANYbody else, she probably would feel guilty for talking to someone so blatantly, but it turns out that she left that situation with zero regrets. If she didn’t put a stop to this whole ordeal, she’ll probably have to carry around a tiny halberd with her for the rest of her life, and as much as she would like to use it, he really wasn’t worth the trouble. Ugh, he makes her absolutely Sick. He’s so slimy, terrible, arrogant, deceitful-

“MARINETTE JOSEPHINE DUPAIN-CHENG BE QUIET!!!!”

Marinette was so startled she tripped over her chaise and fell onto her bed.

“Geez, Tikki! Couldn’t give a girl a warning before you scream like that?”

“You’re one to talk, Ms. The Mayor. And for the record, I did give you a warning; I’ve been calling your name since for the past hour. Are you really going to get all worked up over this, Mari? You said it yourself, he’s just another Lila.”

“I know Tikki, and I’m sorry I’ve been rambling on for so long. It’s just- yeah, he’s a liar, a fake, and way too stoic to be real, but he’s different from Lila. I don't know what it is about him, but I can’t help but wholeheartedly loathe him. Just the thought of him makes a shiver run down my spine.”

“Loathing. Right. That’s it, totally. Is that why you haven’t said his name this entire time.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m very happy you noticed, Tikki. I spent a lot of time thinking up all of those insult names.”

“I’m sure you did, Marinette,” Tikki sighed. “You really don’t like this kid, do you?”

“No, I definitely do not, and not a fiber of my being will ever so much as be happy in his presence for as long as I live.”

@ceres-zephyr here u go!

Chapter 3’s up!

https://qualityladybread.tumblr.com/post/632447827994411008/declawing-the-cat-chapter-3

[spareseratoninplz]

More Than Pain Bakugo x Y/N reader insert Ch. 2

“Miss…? Excuse me, miss…?” I was gently shaken awake by a hand, and when I woke up a friendly looking gentleman was smiling down at me.

“You’re miss (L/N), right?” He asked, and I nodded.

“Yes… how is my mother?” I asked, my brow immediately furrowing. He placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from getting up, and took a seat across from me after pulling up a chair to sit on.

“Your mother is in stable condition… her case however… well, it’s uncertain.” He said, and my heart dropped.

“Case…? Uncertain…?” I echoed, and he cleared his throat.

“Your mother had a very serious seizure. Her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long, and this has caused her to slip into a coma. As I said, she’s in stable condition, but if she’s going to have any sort of chance of recovery, we’ll need to perform surgery…” He said the last few words very carefully, and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“H-How much…?” I asked, and he hesitated before sighing deeply.

“54,200,000 ¥…*” The doctor spoke, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“Your mother’s insurance will pay for her accommodations here at the hospital until the money for surgery can be raised… with any luck, then surgery won’t be necessary. And she’ll simply wake up. Still, there’s the topic of muscle atrophy, and getting her the physical and psychological therapy to recuperate afterwards…” His voice faded out as my brain grew numb with the same question. How in the world am I supposed to raise that much money? As a middle school student I’m not allowed to have any sort of part time job. Not only that, but how was I supposed to pay for rent, power, water, and food when I had absolutely no income whatsoever?

“Miss (L/N)?” The doctor called out my name, and I snapped out of my stupor.

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked, and after a moment of hesitation, he realized I hadn’t.

“There is a program- a temporary service if you will- one that will place you in the care of a foster home… at least for the time being.” I nodded quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the program’s coordinator.” He ushered me along, and I followed blindly, my eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

*One day later*

“Here we are! Oh, you are absolutely going to love this couple!” The coordinator opened the door for me to step out with nothing but my backpack on.

“Oh dear… are you certain that’s all you wanted to bring?” She asked.

“I don’t plan on being here for very long.” I said, walking passed her towards the front door. She followed me quickly, and rang the doorbell as I examined the outside structure of the house. It was rounded at the top with a subtle but elegant grey stone layout. The windows were large and somewhat tinted to reflect the incoming sunlight, and I couldn't help but think how clever that was of the designer to come up with. My attention was grabbed when the front door slowly opened to reveal a tall, muscular  man with spiky brown hair, glasses, and the slightest hint of  a mustache.

“Oh? Hey, you must be (F/N)! Mitsuki, she’s here!” He called behind him, and I could hear the sound of fast footsteps as she made her way to the front door, and nearly knocked the man over in the process.

“Who is it Masaru? Did you say (F/N)?” She asked. She poked her head out, and my eyes immediately focused on two distinctive features, her eyes and hair.

“(F/N)! It’s so good to meet you!” She exclaimed. Before I knew what was happening, she’d already pulled me inside.

“Katsuki! Come meet our guest!” She called out, and the moment she shouted that name, my blood ran cold.

“GO TO HELL!!!” He shouted back in response. Mitsuki only smiled at me briefly as the tension settled in the air. After a moment she turned to me with the same smile on her face.

“Wait right here dear, I’ll  be right back.” She spoke softly and gracefully ascended the stairs to what I could only assume was Katsuki’s room. There were a few light knocks on the door before it sounded like the ceiling was falling in.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT YOU LITTLE SHIT!” She screamed. She then proceeded to drag Bakugou down the stairs by his ear, much to his protest, and tossed him onto the floor in front of us. My eyes locked onto a coat rack in the corner near the door, and I didn’t dare tear my eyes away for a moment. He stood to his feet and swung around as though he were going to strike his own mother, but instead she smacked the back of his head, and he fell to his knees right in front of me. I jumped back, and accidentally met his eyes. If looks could kill, I’d already be dead.

“(F/N) Is going to be staying here for a little while, and I want you to be the one to show her to her room.” Mitsuki ordered, and Katsuki simply glared at me before sliding his hands into his pockets and walking back towards the stairs.

“You comin’ or not?!” He demanded, looking at me sideways as though I were supposed to read his mind. I glared back, unimpressed before following behind him up the stairs.

We took an immediate right, and he placed his foot against a door before roughly kicking it open and stepping inside. I followed him in, and took a look around. Everything was so neat, tidy, and fresh smelling. They had even changed the bed linens and had a fluffy black bathrobe neatly folded on the bed along with a set of clothes. What was this place? A hotel? “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demanded, and I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Your parents didn’t tell you what’s going on?” I asked, and he scoffed.

“All they said was we’d have a guest for a couple months. They never said anything about it being some dumb bitch.” He said, expecting to get a rise out of me, but I remained quiet.

“I’ll stay out of your way.” I said, giving him a cold look that he seemed taken aback by.

“The hell’s your problem?” He asked, and I exhaled slowly through my nose before neatly placing my backpack on the back of a nearby chair.

“Why? So you can degrade me on that too?” I asked, my tone just as cold as my icy glare. For once he had nothing to say as he stood there with the same angry look on his face.

“I get that you don’t like me, and I’ll stay out of your way while I’m here, so, just go do… whatever.” I said, my tone bland as I turned to  start unpacking things from my bag. After a moment of silence I assumed he had just left, so when I heard the shuffling of feet, and suddenly found myself pinned up against the desk as his hands gripped the edges at my hips, trapping me in place. His body and face were both very close to mine, and radiating heat that I didn’t know could be generated from a human body.

“Listen here you, don’t come into my fucking house thinking you’re better than me just because you have some stupid-ass quirk, you got it?” He hissed, and my brow furrowed.

“What did I say to insinuate that I think I’m better than you?” I asked, pressing my hand against his chest to move him away, but he quickly caught my hand and gripped it tightly, maybe even painfully if pain was something I could feel.

“What was that shit you pulled the other day in the hallway, huh?” He asked.

“Let go of me.” I hissed, and he smirked in an almost challenging way.

“Make me.” He growled. I felt something swelling up within me. This anger that I wasn’t at all familiar with coupled with something else. I felt my body begin to shake, and I forcibly grabbed his wrist with the hand that he was holding me, and his eyes widened for a split moment before I flipped him onto his back. He grunted as I stood up and moved away from him, looking down at my own two hands as though they weren’t mine.

“Shit…” Bakugou cursed under his breath before sitting up, and rubbing at the back of his head. He shot me a bewildered look before standing straight up and marching over to me. He looked me over expectantly before clicking his tongue, and heading for the door. He froze just before walking through, and glanced back at me over his shoulder.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left… dinner’s at 5:30… and don’t touch any of my shit!” He spat before shutting the door behind him roughly. I sighed before shaking my head, and pulling my laptop from my bag. I settled in on the bed, and began surfing the web in hopes of winding down, and ignoring what had just happened with my quirk. I had never been able to use it that way before… then again, no one has ever made me feel so frustrated before either.

“Hm?” I hummed in thought as my eyes caught a glimpse of a flashy headliner. I clicked on the link as the webpage opened completely.

“UA RECOMMENDATION EXAM REPORTED TO BE REWARDING HIGHEST RANKING ENTRANT 55,300,000!”

All I could do was stare at the screen with my mouth hanging open, unable to think or speak. 

It seemed all too easy, enter the exam, pass with the highest score, and win the money that I would need to get mom the surgery she needed… an additional  1,152,320¥ never hurts either… I quickly began looking up anything and everything that I could about this exam, and found out quite a bit about it relatively quickly.

“Let’s see… consists of a written exam, practical exam, and an… interview…? Alright, no problem, but… what would I do about references? That would be the main thing I need, right?” I mumbled to myself and groaned before flopping backwards onto the bed.

I can’t believe I’m even playing with thoughts like these. To think I’d even stand a chance against anyone who’s recommended to UA? It may seem like easy money, but now that I think about it, there’s no way it would be that easy. There was suddenly a gentle knock at the door, and I quickly stood from the bed to answer it.

“Mrs. Bakugou, I’m sorry was I being too loud?” I asked, and she chuckled before waving me off, and shooting me a smile.

“Not at all dear! I just came up to check and see how you were getting settled.’ She said, and I nodded before giving her a thankful smile.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. You have a beautiful home.” I said, and she smiled even brighter.

“Aren’t you the sweetest, thank you!” She giggled before banging her fist once against the door directly behind her before shouting.

“YOU HEAR THAT, KID?! WHY CAN’T YOU BE SWEET LIKE HER?!” Mrs. Bakugou shouted.

“WOULD YOU SHUT IT, YOU OLD HAG?! I’M TRYIN’ TO STUDY!” Bakugou shouted back. So, his room was directly across from mine…? Good to know. I thought sarcastically.

“WHY YOU-” I cut her off before she had a chance to shout again. She looked as though she were about to break down his door.

“Bakugou is actually a pretty nice guy at school!” I blurted out before I could think. She froze, and turned to me with a skeptical look.

“That’s not what I’ve heard…” She said, her brow furrowing.

“What? No, really. He helped me to find my locker and the cafeteria on my first day of school, and he’s always willing to help out when I need a partner during study period.” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie. He had helped me find my locker and the cafeteria on the first day… he just wasn’t super polite about it. As for the study partner thing, really we had just been paired up together by the teacher, and did our own work silently.

“He may seem a little harsh at first, but Bakugou is someone who is really very dedicated to his goal of becoming a pro hero. I admire him for not being afraid to speak his mind about things… it’s a quality I wish I had.” I admitted, and I suddenly found myself wondering why I was suddenly singing Bakugou’s praises when I didn’t really know two things about the guy.

“You’re too sweet, (F/N)... by the way, you’re welcome to call me Mitsuki.” She offered, and I nodded politely. She turned towards Bakugou’s door again, and lifted her hand ready to bang on it once more, but after a moment her body seemed to relax as though she had second thoughts, and she lightly knocked instead.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour, hon.” She said gently. After a moment of silence, Bakugou responded. “Whatever…” His voice sounded tired almost, but it held no anger. Mitsuki smiled gently before giving me a small nod, and heading downstairs. Somehow I felt good about what I did, and turned to return to my room, only to be met by the sound of Bakugou’s door creaking open.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” He asked. I looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and a bored expression on his face. I shrugged before resting my elbow against the doorframe, and pushing my hair back out of my eyes.

“I don’t know… I guess maybe you just don’t hear it as much as you should.” I said. His eyes lowered to the floor as though he were considering something.

“Hear what?” He asked. I swallowed hard, knowing what it was I was wanting to say, but I wasn’t sure how he would react.

“You’re a good guy, Bakugou… and I know you’ve built this reputation as the school’s hot head or whatever, but… I can tell by how hard you work that you truly do want to be a hero… and I don’t think you’d want to be a hero if you didn’t like people.” I said, and he remained silent, now resting his head against the door frame, and looking off down the hall.

“You’re so full of shit.” He spat, somewhat taking me by surprise, but I didn’t let it show.

“The other day, you were telling me to ‘grow up’... saying shit like ‘you’re not very heroic’- such bullshit.” He hissed, and for some reason an unfamiliar sensation hit me directly in the center of my chest before spreading to the rest of my body.

‘Is this… pain…?’ I thought to myself. Without realizing, my hand had come up and grabbed my shirt directly over my chest. My breathing began to increase, and my skin began to feel warm and flush.

“What is it? Just now realizing I’ve called you out on your bullshit?” He asked, crossing his arms again and smirking in an unnerving way.

“What? No, that’s not-” My breathing only increased, but it felt like all the air in my lungs had left me. I felt my eyes begin to burn as tears began to slide down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“Wh- hey. What’s wrong with you?” He asked, and I felt my body begin to shake as sobs began to rack my body.

“Shit, hey-” He kneeled beside me, and I hid my face from him. I’d never felt this way before in my life. As though someone had lit a fire at the center of my chest, but the rest of my body remained cold as Ice. How is it even possible to be freezing, and yet sweat at the same time?

“Calm your breathing and relax.” He said, his voice lower, and I felt him rest his hand on my back awkwardly, not knowingly exactly where to put it. After a moment I seemed to calm down, but I was still in shock at what had just happened.

“Wh-what… what was that…?” I mumbled to myself.

“You just had a fucking panic attack.” Bakugou said, now sitting on the floor next to me, and resting his head back against the wall. I could feel him watching me carefully, and after a moment he sighed.

“Look I… I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think sayin’ that would… cause a panic attack alright? I always thought you didn’t have emotions.” He said.

“I… I usually don’t feel anything. Pain, anger, fear, sadness… I can absorb it back into my body, channel it and use the energy to heal myself or others…” I said, and suddenly realized I hadn’t ever really explained how my quirk worked before.

“So that’s what happened the other day? You didn’t block my attack, you absorbed it?” He asked, and I nodded.

“And that’s how you healed yourself?” He asked, and again I nodded.

“Yes… the stronger the quirk, the faster I heal.” I said, and he just stared ahead at the wall.

“Well… it’s not the shittiest quirk I’ve ever heard of.” He said, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. We sat in silence for a bit longer before I spoke again.

“I need to get into UA on recommendation.” I said, and his entire body stiffened.

“WH- THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” He demanded, and I sighed.

“It’s not what you think okay, so don’t blow a fuse.” I said. I passed him my phone with the headline on it, and his eyes quickly skimmed over it.

“Yeah, I heard about that… so then what’s the deal? I thought you weren’t tryin’ to be a hero.” He said, and I ignored the fact that he knew that about me, and took my phone back from him.

“I… I just need the money, alright?” I admitted. I pulled my knees to my chest before resting my arms on top, and then my chin.

“What do you need with a shit-ton of cash like that?” He asked, and I laughed humorlessly. He didn’t respond after a moment of silence, so I sighed, and felt my brow furrow.

“Katsuki, (F/N) dinner’s ready!” Mitsuki called.

“HOLD YOUR HORSES WE’RE COMIN’!” Bakugou shouted back, but I was already standing.

“We should go eat. School in the morning.” I said, and he looked up at me with a stoic expression before standing himself and walking towards the stairs. I walked past him at the top of the stairs, and he grabbed my arm to stop me before I could continue.

“We’re not done yet.” He said, holding my gaze for several moments before turning away, and descending the stairs. I lightly brushed my fingers across my arm where he’d grabbed me, and felt an odd tingling sensation where his hand had been.

“I’m losing my mind…” I mumbled to myself before descending the stairs, and stepping into the dining room.

“Here you go (F/N) I’ve saved you a spot right next to Katsuki.” Mr. Bakugou said whilst drying his hands on a kitchen towel as Mrs. Bakugou finished placing the final plate of food on the table. I nodded silently before taking the seat I had been offered.

“The coordinator gave us a list with some of your favorites, so I made you some kakitama jiru!*” She exclaimed, very pleased with herself.

“It looks great, thank you Mrs. Bakugou.” I said, smiling kindly as I spooned it into a bowl along with some crispy noodles and a spoonful of green onions on top. The aroma was intoxicating, and I felt myself relax somewhat at the familiar smell.

“Would you like some Beef?” Mr. Bakugou offered, holding the plate out to me. I nodded before plucking a few pieces out, and placing them neatly on my plate before adding some steamed veggies and rice. Everything looked and smelled amazing. I couldn’t recall eating in the last few days, so this was more than welcomed.

“Have you had any news on your mother?” Mrs. Bakugou asked, and I felt the color immediately drain from my face. Any appetite I previously had was gone now. I lowered my chopsticks from my mouth before I could take a bite of food, and felt my hand shake slightly.

“Oh… uh… no ma’am. Nothing yet.” I said plainly, hoping she would just drop it.

“Oh… well, I’m very sorry to hear about what happened. We really hope she gets out of the hospital soon.” She said, and I felt my eyes drop to the table, suddenly intently focused on the pattern of the tablecloth, and nothing else. I wanted everything to fade away, and be silent. I wanted to be by myself where no one could see me like this because it was all new to me as well.

“Um… th-thanks…” I silently cursed myself for stuttering. They probably couldn’t tell I was uncomfortable since my body language wasn’t showing it. Would it be disrespectful to tell them that I was uncomfortable?

“Hey, we’re gonna eat upstairs.” Katsuki spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking through the haze of my hectic thought process.

“Huh? But you’ve already sat down.” Mrs. Bakugo said, dejected.

“I’ve been havin’ some trouble with English lately… she said she’d tutor me, so…” He lied, but I kept my mouth shut. Mrs. Bakugou looked utterly dumbfounded, but quickly smiled.

“Oh, of course!” She said gleefully. Katsuki grabbed his bowl, and I grabbed mine. I said my goodbyes as we ascended the stairs once more, and he all but forced me into my room. I placed the bowl down, and took a few deep breaths.

“Shit…” I mumbled to myself once my breath had come back.

“What’s going on with you? Why do you keep freaking out?” Bakugou scoffed, and I swallowed hard.

“Look, I’m not used to feeling emotions like this, okay?” I said, a bit more anger behind my tone than I had probably intended.

“Turn your shitty quirk back on then…” He said, as though it were the easiest thing.

“I… I can’t… I don’t know why but for some reason, I can’t.” I said, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“What you said before… when you said I’m ‘full of shit’... I don’t know how, or why, but for some reason or other, it caused my quirk to dissipate. That’s why I freaked out.” I said.

“So… you turn off your quirk, and you have a panic attack, or what the hell?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“No, no… look, I’ve had my emotions shut off since I was a child… sometimes they slip out, but I’ve always been able to keep them under control until a little while ago. At that time, I dunno…” I trailed off, taking a few breaths before continuing.

“I guess all the emotions that I’ve been holding back hit me at once.” I concluded, and Bakugou continued to sit there in silence.

“Why turn them off?” He asked, and the question caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked.

“Your emotions. Why turn them off?” He asked again, slightly annoyed this time at having to repeat himself.

“Oh… I dunno. It just seemed easier I guess.” I answered honestly. After a moment Katsuki stood with his bowl in hand, and headed for the door.

“Whatever… I’m goin’ back to my room.” He said, and something made me ask. “Bakugou…?” I called out, and he stopped to turn and look back at me.

“How did you know I was having a panic attack… I mean- how did you know how to handle it?” I asked, and his eyes widened momentarily before his brow creased in its usual pissed off manner.

“What the hell kinda question is that, dumbass!” He huffed before throwing the door open and storming out before shutting it behind him. I blinked a few times before sighing and shaking my head. I’ll never understand how this guy’s brain works… but maybe that’s for the best. I sat at the desk with the bowl of soup in front of me, and sighed as I picked at it with my chopsticks. The noodles were mush at this point, and the broth was surely cold. I pushed the bowl away, and stepped towards the bed. After moving my laptop and the clothes aside, I curled myself up on the comforter with my head resting against the plush pillow, and felt my eyelids growing heavier by the second. After a few deep breaths, I felt my body relax into the mattress, and sleep finally found me.

[pellucidity-is-me]

On Comparing Two Werewolves

Summary: Another scene from my fanfic (link in blog description) that can work as a one-shot. Dumbledore returns to his office the night before Halloween, argues with a few portraits about Remus Lupin’s place in Hogwarts, and decides to take a closer look on his own past with Fenrir Greyback.

Wordcount: 4396

Dumbledore returned to his office, humming Benny Goodman's Sing, Sing, Sing. He looked around and smiled at all the decorations on his walls. The group of Gryffindor boys calling themselves the “Marauders” had snuck into his office and decorated it as a little Halloween practical joke. It was very advanced magic (highly impressive for first-years), and it would have fooled anyone else. But not Dumbledore—and he was going to let the prank play out. It was harmless, after all.

Dumbledore removed the portrait-coverings from the walls. The portraits found it terribly annoying to be covered up like that, and Dumbledore did like having their input... most of the time. However, many of them held very hostile beliefs towards werewolves, and Dumbledore didn't want Remus to hear any of it. Remus had, of course, probably heard it all already. But the boy was eleven years old, and Dumbledore wanted to let him be a child as long as he could.

Even if it meant having his office expertly decorated for Halloween.

Especially if it meant having his office expertly decorated for Halloween.

"They've decorated your office," Eupraxia Mole said sternly from her portrait-frame. "A couple of boys. I think there were three. One of them was the werewolf." Dumbledore noticed the contempt with which she said the word and raised an eyebrow.

"I am aware, Eupraxia. And I do not see it fit to discriminate against Remus when you are quite literally a portrait. You're not even a living being, and I do not need to argue with you."

"The audacity!"

"I'd say you weren't fit to run this school if you weren't the best Headmaster we've ever had," said Everard, twirling his moustache. "I trust your judgement, even though I do not trust the boy."

"Thank you, Everard."

"I was a Healer before I was Headmistress, you know," said Dilys. "I've healed a few, and they are not completely ill-mannered, to my knowledge. Most of them seem to be normal at first. It is society, I believe, that drives them to be the monsters that we believe them to be. Watch him carefully, Albus. It is still possible that he will go down that path."

"Very insightful, Dilys."

"Half-breed, that's all he is," said Dexter Fortescue. "They all end up the same! Why you would put the school in danger by allowing him in, I have no idea! You ought to just put a stop to this nonsense and put him out!"

"You've heard our conversations, Dexter. He is no more dangerous than you or I."

"Whiny, snivelling little brat if you ask me," said Phineas Nigellus Black. "Doesn't seem to pose much of a threat. It's Sirius Black I'm worried about. I would recognize his voice anywhere, and this hijink will be reported directly to his mother. If he were anyone else then it would be acceptable. But he has a responsibility, as heir, to act his age. I've heard Walburga rant about him—he's a Gryffindor."

"No harm done, Phineas. I find him to be a bright and entertaining boy, myself."

"Of course you would," said Phineas snidely. "You let a literal monster into Hogwarts. That never would have been done in my day. It wouldn't have been done in anyone's day. There's a reason it's never been done before."

"Remus is an eleven-year-old boy. There is no reason to be afraid of an eleven-year-old boy."

"How do you know he's not a senseless monster? You have no proof," Euphraxia argued.

"Monsters are not pleasant, clever, kind, and mild-mannered," said Dumbledore evenly. He was getting a bit frustrated now. It should be such a small thing, letting a werewolf into Hogwarts. The portraits only disliked the idea of it because it had never been done before. It was difficult to talk with paintings that were stuck in the past, could not grow, and could not mature. Dumbledore again wondered why he was doing it.

"He's faking it." Euphraxia blew out a puff of air and let her portrait-y lips flap a little. "I can't believe you can't tell. He's not a normal eleven-year-old; he is a monster assuming the shape of an eleven-year-old, pretending to act as any other child would. It's obvious, Albus, that he's lying. You saw. He nearly lost control that one time. Had to stop, breathe, and take up his façade again. Remember?"

"He was stressed. I would have stopped to take a breather, myself. And, forgive me for saying so, but I excel at reading people. He is not pretending to be a person." Really. The notion was ridiculous. Remus was good at a great many things, but pretending to be a person for six and a half years was not something that he could do. It wasn't something that anyone could do.

"Don't get defensive, Albus," said Dilys. "We are only trying to protect the school. That is our duty, after all. I am inclined to agree with you, but I would be cautious if I were you."

"Thank you, Dilys. I accidentally allowed myself to forget that you are only portraits, and that I cannot easily change the mind of a painted inanimate object."

"I had no idea that you were so irresponsible," said Phineas, "letting my descendant go bad like that."

"What was I meant to do?"

"Re-sort him. Put him in Slytherin. That House will lead him right."

"The Sorting Hat does not agree."

"You mean the inanimate talking hat?"

"I see you've heard of it."

"This school is going to go up in flames!" Dexter continued. "A werewolf running rampant in a school full of children! I may be a portrait, but I've heard of the deeds of Fenrir Greyback! Mark my words, that boy will go bad!"

Armando Dippet cut in for the first time. "I remember Fenrir. I taught him, though he didn't go by the surname 'Greyback' at the time. You taught him, too, Albus. Quiet. Soft-spoken. Like the Lupin boy."

"Not all quiet teenagers are the same person, Armando."

"I know, I know. But I see my colleagues' point. I never would have imagined Fenrir to grow up the way he did. Something snapped, Albus. Something changed. He wasn't the same after being bitten."

"He became bitter because of a tragic event. I can't see Remus taking that route."

"And I couldn't see Fenrir doing it, either. I advocate for equality, of course. But I don't think you should have let Lupin into the school."

"And you," said Dumbledore, picking up his quill, "are only a portrait. I do not wish to discuss this any further. I make the decisions. You have all made your opinions clear, but my say is final. Sirius Black is a Gryffindor, and Remus Lupin is a Hogwarts student. And remember: you all are sworn to secrecy about his condition."

"Condition!" scoffed Dexter. "What a euphemism! It's not a condition, nor is it a sickness... it's a way of life! It's a species!"

Dumbledore closed Dexter's portrait with a snap. "I would like some peace and quiet. Do not make me permanently remove your portraits from my office."

The portraits were quiet (most of them even left their frames, perhaps to sulk somewhere else), and Dumbledore finished composing a letter to the Minister. But something niggled in the back of his head. He remembered Fenrir, of course. He had gone to Hogwarts. He had been human at the time. But what had he been like? He had seemed like a normal student. Dumbledore had never paid much attention to him.

Dumbledore rifled through his bottles of memories and found what he was looking for. He poured it into the Pensieve and entered the memory of one of his classes. Fenrir Greyback was sitting at a desk, his head bowed over a book and his fingers tapping on the desk impatiently. Dumbledore bent next to him and tried to remember.

It was almost unnatural to watch this boy—whose face was now constantly in the Daily Prophet—who was now one of the most feared people on earth. He looked so young and innocent: he was hardly the same person. It was no wonder that no one ever recognized him after he went bad. Dumbledore himself hadn't believed it; when the name Fenrir Greyback had become popular amongst fearful wizardkind, Dumbledore had thought that it was simply someone with the same first name. After all, he'd taught multiple Fenrirs. He'd even entertained the notion that the name was completely fake, or that he hadn't taught Greyback at all... he'd never once made the connection until he had seen that 1965 photograph of the man, and it was hard to believe even then.

Dumbledore studied the young Greyback's face, but could find no trace of Remus Lupin in his eyes. He simply looked bored, and Dumbledore could hardly fault anyone for being so in the middle of Transfiguration class.

Fenrir was quiet. Hardly ever spoke at all, in fact. He didn't spend any time around peers in his own House—he spent more time with the Gryffindors, in fact, than anyone else. Fenrir's chosen company reminded Dumbledore of James and Sirius, in fact. But he was always an add-on; someone who never had nor was ever considered a "best friend". He was just... there. Quiet. He reminded Dumbledore more of Peter Pettigrew than Remus Lupin, if Dumbledore was being honest with himself.

Dumbledore could hardly see the current Fenrir Greyback in the boy's appearance: the man who had grown out his nails and hair, who had embraced his condition and used it to become more wolf-like and intimidating. This eleven-year-old boy looked... sweet. Happy. Had he changed? The boy stood up and walked over to young-Dumbledore after class ended. Dumbledore only had to search the depths of his brilliant memory for a moment before he remembered this conversation.

"Professor Dumbledore," said the young Fenrir Greyback, his eyes bright. "I forgot to do my homework again."

"And what were you doing instead, Fenrir?" It was always so unnatural, hearing his own voice in a memory.

"I was... er."

"Yes?"

"I dunno, sir. Sleeping. Reading. Outside. I just didn't feel like doing it."

"First year is an excellent time to start applying yourself, Fenrir. Habits are formed when you are still young. Do you realize that you have not turned in a single homework assignment since school began?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why are you here?"

"Sorry, sir?"

"Why are you at Hogwarts, if you are intent on shirking your responsibilities?"

"It's not like I'm not learning the spells. I can perform them. I just don't want to do the written homework." Now, that sentiment reminded Dumbledore of those of James Potter and Sirius Black. But still not Remus.

"Which will help the spells to stay in your long-term memory," Memory-Dumbledore said. “We teachers rather know what we are doing."

The memory faded and reformed, and Fenrir was now in third year. Dumbledore looked on as Fenrir spoke to Armando Dippet, who looked thoroughly frustrated with the child.

"Fenrir," said Dippet, not unkindly, "You are still refusing to apply yourself. What do you plan on doing after Hogwarts?"

"Don't know, sir," Fenrir said dismissively, "and I don't care. I'm meant to be doing something more than sitting still and doing homework."

Dumbledore was almost amused despite himself. Well, that ended up happening, didn't it?

The memory shifted again, and Fenrir was laughing with his friends... running and chasing them around the Hogwarts grounds... playing catch and Exploding Snap.

All monsters had started out as boys and girls, hadn't they?

Dumbledore remembered a little more of Fenrir now. He hadn't been able to sit still for the life of him. He used to tap the desk with his fingers so loudly that the children sitting next to him would be driven to madness. He held grudges. He had gotten good enough grades, but only ever ended up doing enough homework to squeak by when exams rolled around. He had been innately interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts and was a decent duellist.

Dumbledore could see some traits in Fenrir that might have contributed to his current state. He was resourceful and cunning, yet didn't often think before he acted and was wont to give into current desires rather than make future investments. He seemed to value a "pack" setting—he was fiercely loyal to those he cared about and didn't seem to care whether anybody else lived or died. He didn't seem to show much empathy, save to a few of his closest friends, but he didn't exhibit a lack of empathy either. He was just... there. A student.

Could Dumbledore imagine him going bad? Sure. But people went bad all the time. Anyone had the potential to go bad; it was only a matter of choice.

This boy had been bitten by a monster shortly after leaving Hogwarts (according to Dumbledore's recent calculations), was shunned by the wizarding community, went through unimaginable pain every month, and had eventually decided to look after his own desires rather than the needs of others. Dumbledore could see him doing that. He could see many people going down that route.

But while Fenrir had been self-centered because of his condition, Remus remained others-centered.

No, that wasn't quite right in all respects. It was right in hardly any respects, actually. Fenrir had focused on others as the object of his hate. Remus had focused on himself. Remus never got angry with others for his suffering—not for long. He seemed to quite loathe himself on occasion, but almost never others. Remus was always focusing on himself, it seemed: he pitied himself, blamed himself, and overall thought about his own troubles quite a lot. It wasn't always a strength, but it was undeniably Remus.

Fenrir, alternatively, considered himself better than others—with or without the lycanthropy. Remus considered others to be better then himself because of the lycanthropy. Funny how that worked out.

They were different people, Dumbledore deduced. Greyback was a monster. Remus was not.

He had already known that, of course. And he was thankful for it.

But looking into Fenrir's young eyes, so full of life and energy, he couldn't help thinking of Remus'—the dead opposite. Remus always had a tired look to him, looked so much older than he really was, was much too mature, and had grown up before his time. Why did Greyback get a childhood and Remus did not?

So was the mystery of the universe.

Dumbledore resolved, then and there, that he would never let Remus Lupin go bad. He had allowed Grindelwald to do so in his childhood. He had already made the mistake of letting someone's faults take over until that person was no longer who they once were. He would not let the same thing come to Remus. He was going to invade the inner workings of the universe and fix things—that was his responsibility as someone who was both powerful and intelligent. Dumbledore knew how to fix things, and he was going to do it. He simply couldn't sit idly by and watch Remus' world burn.

But Remus didn't really need his help, did he?

He returned to his office, where all the portraits were sleeping—with the exception of Armando.

"Greyback, hm?" Armando asked. "Have you considered?"

"I have. My mind has not changed."

Armando chuckled. "Albus Dumbledore, changing his mind. That will happen the day that a Welsh Green becomes Minister for Magic."

"On this matter?" Dumbledore said. "Not even then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was one more memory that Dumbledore wanted to view, but he waited until all of the portraits were sleeping. He fished the vial out of the cabinet and poured it into the Pensieve, slightly dreading it. But it was perfect for Halloween, wasn't it?

And then there he was. That night that he had been out on the streets, walking on the cobblestones and singing to himself, enjoying the cool air and the streetlamps. His hair had been a little darker then, and his eyes a little brighter. It was only about five years ago, but it felt like an eternity.

Fenrir had been a werewolf now for... let's see, if he was eleven in 1948, and bitten at age eighteen, and now it was 1966, and he was about twenty-nine now... eleven years. Less than twice the amount of time that Remus had been a werewolf: present-day Remus had been a werewolf for six and a half. But Dumbledore didn't want to compare the two more than what was necessary, though he knew that it was inevitable.

Dumbledore saw his memory-self pause and look around. When Dumbledore heard a strange sound and he couldn't tell where it was coming from, he had a ritual of sorts. First, he would look up, because that's what the average person would least expect. Then he would look down. Then he would look to his left, because he was right-handed. Then he would look to his right. He watched his memory-self do all of this, and when he was doing the final step—spinning in a circle—he noticed the source of the sound.

It was Fenrir, of course, shrouded in a black cloak that was so ripped it barely covered him. Memory-Dumbledore did not recognize him at first. "Hello?" he said, drawing nearer. It wasn't until the thing looked up and met Memory-Dumbledore's eyes that he realized. Memory-Dumbledore recognized Fenrir's image from the papers, so he drew his wand and trained it on the creature, ready to attack if need be. "Fenrir. Fancy meeting you here."

Fenrir smiled, and both Dumbledores noticed his teeth—sharp, pointed, and stained with red... Very Halloween-y, thought Dumbledore, and also mildly disturbing.

"What are you doing out here, Fenrir? Do you need assistance in getting somewhere? Azkaban, perhaps?" Memory-Dumbledore pretended that he was not repulsed. Memory-Dumbledore imagined that it was only tomato juice or something on his teeth. Even Memory-Dumbledore, though, knew that this wasn't the case.

"Dumbledore. Long time no see." Fenrir wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were not those of the eleven-year-old boy at all. They were more dangerous. They were bloodshot. They were narrowed. Wolf-like was the first word that came to mind. Dumbledore's eyes drew to Fenrir's hand, which sported long, curled nails. He realized with a jolt that Fenrir had bitten Remus Lupin only about a year prior.

"You look a little worse-for-wear, Fenrir," said Memory-Dumbledore. "I deeply sympathize." Memory-Dumbledore did not yet know the extent of Fenrir's exploits. He remembered still the young Fenrir, full of life and a deep desire to do the right thing... Memory-Dumbledore had stupidly believed that he could somehow turn Fenrir to his own side, even though he'd been Voldemort's weapon for years now.

"You can't sympathize," said Fenrir. His voice was deep, gravelly, and scratchy, almost like a sinister record-player. He pronounced his R's in the back of his throat and ended his sentences a bit abruptly. How had his voice changed so much in a few short years? Remus' voice sounded nothing like that, so it had nothing to do with the lycanthropy. But Clark Darnall pronounced his R's that way—had Clark picked it up from Greyback or had they both gotten it from another place? "You can't sympathize," said Fenrir again. "You have no idea what I've been through."

Memory-Dumbledore, indeed, did not know. But current Dumbledore had an idea.

"I'm sorry, Fenrir. Is there anything I can do?"

"'Course not. It's not a problem anymore. I made the best of it. Made do with what I had. You know how it is."

"Hm. Have you been hurting anyone?" Memory-Dumbledore's hand twitched on his wand, knowing the answer—but he wanted to hear Greyback say it; perhaps, he thought, it would drive the man to conviction....

Fenrir was quick to confirm, and there was no guilt in his voice. "No more than they've hurt me. You've heard the stories, haven't you? You know what I've done."

Memory-Dumbledore looked at him intensely. "Fenrir," he said, "I am a very powerful wizard, you know, and I will not stand for that." Fenrir eyed Dumbledore's wand warily, but Dumbledore was not budging. "There is a way out, you know... we can keep you safe on the full moons. You are infamous for attacking children, my friend—but it's not too late to step away from all that... you'll have to pay for your crimes, of course, but we can keep you hidden from the higher-ups at the Ministry, who no doubt want to execute you. You're not trapped in this lifestyle."

Memory-Dumbledore had suspected that some of the rumors about Fenrir were unfounded, but he'd been wrong. He'd felt sympathy for the boy who had attended Hogwarts not too long ago, but he'd been wrong. Clark Darnall was in Dumbledore's ranks, and he'd warned Dumbledore of the horrific acts that Fenrir had committed... he'd already spoken to Dumbledore about Remus at this point. But Dumbledore had still thought, somewhere, deep down, that Fenrir could not have changed so much from when he was a boy—that he was only evil because he had not been given a proper choice—and Dumbledore had known that, if he could convince Fenrir, then he'd automatically have all of the werewolves in Britain on his side... countless lives could be saved.

Dumbledore was a brilliant man, yes, but he was sometimes incorrect. This was one of those times.

"Dumbledore. You know me; you taught me. Do you really think that it's so easy to convince me? You underestimate me—I wouldn't leave behind all that I've built, not for the misguided lie that there's a place for me amo-" Crack. Fenrir had, intelligently enough, Apparated away in the middle of his sentence. Nay, the middle of a word. Memory-Dumbledore had not seen it coming, and that was a rare occurrence.

Memory-Dumbledore marveled at the boy's—no, the man's—no, the monster's cleverness, and resolved to keep an eye out and figure out what he was up to before he could hurt more people. It wouldn't be that difficult. Memory-Dumbledore was already, so to speak, following the scent, and he was sure that he would have plenty more chances to apprehend the werewolf. Memory-Dumbledore walked away, less of a spring in his step, but confident and relaxed.

Current Dumbledore made his way over to the place in which his memory-self had once stood and peered down the alleyway where Greyback had been standing. A dead rabbit, still warm-looking and covered in blood, lay on the ground.

Dumbledore's stomach roiled a bit, but at least it wasn't a toddler.

With that comforting thought in mind, Dumbledore removed himself from the memory, sat down on an armchair, and opened a book.

He did not read it, though. His eyes skimmed over the words and his hand idly flipped pages, but his mind was back in the alley, watching the boy-become-monster.

The pieces clicked together in a way that they were wont to do in Dumbledore's keen mind. They were pieces that had come together in the past, yes, but now they did so even more securely.

Ten years after Fenrir was bitten, at age twenty-eight, he had attacked Remus. And he'd been savage for a long time before that. Remus had been a werewolf now for six and a half years: when Fenrir had been a werewolf for six and a half years, he had probably already begun attacking people.

The portraits had been wrong, obviously, and this proved it. But now Dumbledore thought about why.

It wasn't because Remus was a better person than Fenrir (though that was undoubtedly the case). It wasn't because he had somehow escaped whatever disease had made Fenrir go bad. It wasn't because the lycanthropy somehow affected him differently. So why had they turned out differently?

A mixture of personal choice and better circumstances, Dumbledore decided.

Remus was doing so well because he had such good parents—who had taught him right from wrong, who had spent time with him, who had loved him unconditionally. He would be further shaped by his professors and friends. He would learn, he would grow, and he would continue to live in human society—as he had done for his whole life. He'd made a choice early on to be this way, and now his choices were manifesting themselves in his personality. That was what made a person human (in the abstract sense of the word), not a species.

It was likely that Fenrir had not had systems of support like Remus did. That didn't force him to become what he was, of course, but it made it much more difficult. And then Fenrir had made a choice to do this—to give in to things that he knew were wrong—to let the worst parts of him invade his life and personality—thus Fenrir Greyback was born. Would things have gone differently if his parents had loved him unconditionally? Had they? What if Fenrir had still been in school (though Dumbledore knew that Dippet would not have allowed that)?

But one thing was for certain: it had nothing to do with lycanthropy. It was not biological. It, like many other things, was a matter of choice. It was one’s choices, after all, that showed one who they truly were—far more than their abilities.

And that was why Sirius Black, who had grown up a descendant of Phineas Nigellus, was a Gryffindor. That was why James Potter, who loved everything Gryffindor, was a Gryffindor. That was why Peter Pettigrew had chosen friends that did not match him in either ability or personality. It was all personal choice applied to surroundings: it wasn't even werewolf-specific. No one was biologically a monster.

Dumbledore had already known all that, but it was nice to put it into words.

Everyone starts out as children, he mused as he fiddled with a Disillusioned bat decoration hanging off the wall.

And as the memories replayed themselves in Dumbledore's mind well into the night, he meditated once again on the fact that having such a brilliant mind and a tendency to stick his nose in other people's business was both a blessing and a curse.

[skiller0dani]

For Monty | Monty De La Cruz

M A S T E R L I ST Timothy Granaderos Masterlist

smut  requests info

important notice:  13 reasons why covers some really heavy stuff and their material can be extremely triggering. seeing as my writing is supposed to be for fun only I won’t be including many of the topics seen in the show. in fact, unless I say otherwise most of all my writings for this show will take place before Hannah Bakers suicide. if you or a loved one ever needs to seek professional help please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

*

also I’ve been getting so many messages saying stuff along the lines of “I thought you were a timothee chalamet blog??! why haven’t you written for him?”  & “i don’t read your stuff anymore it’s not timmy chalamet”  I am super hella done with messages like this. yes I write for timothee chalamet the most but I still do have other interests. I write what I will enjoy writing the most, because when I’m not interested in what I’m writing the entire piece turns into garbage. I will continue to write for timmy chalamet, but I will continue to also write for other people and tv shows/movies/WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT. :) if this upsets you then feel free to stop reading my stuff. thank you for understanding. xx

~Skiller0Dani~

WOW. That was long, anyway onto the Monty smut ;)  also someone to you by the banners makes me think of Monty :( I miss him so fucking much dudes and dudettes. tell me I’m not the only one who misses that way too violent cutie pie. 

You weren’t someone who was known for mindlessly crushing on upperclassman. You focused mainly on your school work, trying to get straight A’s. Your Father had drilled it into your head that good grades equal good college offers. While he wasn’t wrong, you wished that there could be more to your life than report cards and school projects. No, you never crushed on anyone. In fact a majority of your friends had come to the conclusion you’re asexual, which is far from true. Actually your eyes had landed on a prize all their own, you’d much prefer they stay focused on the work in front of you but instead they were trained on the schools ‘lady killer’. Montgomery De La Cruz. 

You doubt Monty had ever even once glanced in your direction and up until now that didn’t bother you. The only thing that bothered you more than the lack of attention you were receiving was the fact that he currently had his eyes set on a busty blonde across the Library. 

And you do not take rejection very well. 

Monty might not have known he was rejecting you but he most certainly was. By allowing his eyes to trail down to her cleavage before letting his eyes take in her delicate features he was obviously rejecting you. You pushed back from the table as Monty sidled towards the blonde airhead. Fuck. Why do you care so much? You feel more anger then heartbreak, you weren’t one of those cry baby women. If someone upset you, you made sure they knew it. In this case you would definitely be making sure Monty knew how much he’d upset you. 

While you planned on finding a clever way to introduce yourself to Monty, the Universe wanted to rectify this situation for you all on his own. Fate was a funny thing. You stood in front of your open locker, texting a few friends before heading to your neck class when you hear a soft click followed by the shutter of a camera. Tyler was a nice guy, harmless if not a little creepy. Nonetheless he made you uncomfortable, you could feel his eyes follow you around the school. You turned slightly to the right to see Tyler peeking from around the corner with his lens pointed at you. You tried to look causal as you began to hurriedly pack your things into your bag when the quick sound of footsteps on the tile floors caught your attention. You feel a sharp breeze blow from behind you and before you even know what’s going on Monty has Tyler pinned to the lockers. 

Your eyes are wide and poor Tyler shakes like a leaf, his eyes refusing to meet Monty’s. “Fucking leave her alone.” Monty’s voice is tense and his eyes burn craters into Tyler’s head. He fists two handfuls of Tyler’s shirt and when Tyler makes the mistake of lifting his eyes to meet yours Monty slams him back against the locker again. “Don’t even look at her freak.” The last work is spat from Monty’s mouth. It makes Tyler flinch. “I-I didn’t-” Tyler’s voice cracks as he stumbles for the right words. Monty leans in closer, his fingers curling around Tyler’s shirt tighter. 

“I saw you taking her picture from around the corner, and if that’s not creepy enough I’ve watched you follow her around the school. You wanna touch her Down? Hm? Wanna find a good place to have your way with her?” The words coming from Monty’s mouth are venomous, you’d be lying if you said your panties weren’t wet. Smiling with the edge still in his eyes Monty releases Tyler and begins to straighten his shirt. “So here’s what we’re going to do Down. You’re going to leave her the fuck alone, no talking to her, no taking pictures. If you even look in her direction I’m going to beat you to a bloody pulp. Capiche?” Monty feigns a friendly look, while Tyler quickly nods and squirms away the instant Monty allows him to. You fiddle with the strap of your bag as Monty turns to you, a much different look in his eyes. 

“You okay?” His eyes are on you, his attention is finally on you. The feeling of his eyes brushing over your face and down your body has you melting directly into the floor. Instead of collapsing into a tingling heap you smile with a quick nod. “Y-Yeah, you don’t need to worry though. Tyler is harmless, just kind of creepy.” You reassure him the best you can but you doubt you did anything to ease his worry. Monty rolls his eyes, the tension hasn’t yet left his shoulders. “Harmless now. It’s disgusting the way he follows you around the school. I’ve even seen him linger around the girls bathroom if you go in.” Monty’s voice becomes strained again, a memory seeming to play in his head. 

You turn to head to class and much to your surprise Monty begins to walk beside you, “you really don’t have to walk me to class.” There’s a blush on your cheeks and Monty merely shrugs. There are eyes on you as you walk with Monty, people know Monty. Nobody knows you, they’re probably wondering how Monty does. “No biggie.” He’s incredibly casual, and also a lot nicer than you were expecting. Sure he was a little rough with Tyler but Tyler was being really creepy. You have no clue who allowed the town stalker to be in charge of yearbook, it like gives him a reason to follow people around. It’s conveniently always for “yearbook”. No way. 

Nothing else of major significance occurred after that day. Monty would occasionally wink at you from across the hall or throw a lopsided smile your way in the hallways. But you figured he saw you as a little sister than someone he wanted to fuck into oblivion. You desperately wanted him to fuck you into oblivion. Monty definitely did however keep a close eye on you if any guy approached you. Even his friends, like Zach. You were pretty good friends with Zach, having lived down the street from him since as long as you can remember. Anytime Zach stood by your locker with you, you could feel Monty’s eyes on you. Sure enough each and every time you looked up you saw Monty’s heated gaze on the two of you. Basically, you were receiving a hundred different mixed messages from him. Why were you waiting around for him anyway? When in doubt, do it your damn self. 

There were tons of eyes on you today. You were wearing a sheer see through deep purple crop top. Beneath the crop top you wore nothing but a lacy black bra, which was very much on display. It wasn’t what you were wearing that was catching everyone’s attention, but what you’d written on the cups of your bra. You’d written FOR MONTY, each word on each cup in big white letters. People were whispering all around you as you made your way to your locker. Zach in particular wasn’t all that surprised, he knew you fairly well. If it took you too long to get what you wanted, you’d make sure to make a show of it once you’d decided to get it yourself. In this case however, that thing you wanted was in fact, Monty. 

Monty almost didn’t notice, not until one of his buddies elbowed his side, “dude look.” 

Monty swore his cock jumped to attention once he’d seen what you were wearing. The words FOR MONTY written on your breasts catching his attention immediately. You’d barely allowed him a side glance as you strolled on by and while every single nerve in Monty’s body wanted to approach you first- he didn’t. Clearly you’d done this to catch his attention, and Monty couldn’t help but wonder what you’d do if he did nothing. His cock was nearly twitching at the thought. So Monty gave little to no reaction and turned back to his boys, who all thought he was completely insane. How could he do nothing when an insanely hot chick had basically given her breasts to him? 

The reaction infuriated and confused you just as much as it did them. Was he really so uninterested that at the prospect of you offering your body to him willingly he would still reject you? Ouch. You slammed your locker shut and turned to brush past him, ignoring Zach’s quiet chuckling as he followed behind you. You weren’t embarrassed, you’d thankfully inherited your Mother’s fearless nature. You were pissed the fuck off. You’d give Monty one last chance before you’d write him off and look for another good lay. Although you’d yet to find someone at Liberty that was hotter than Monty. “Gonna give it up?” Zach asked, that teasing laugh still hinting at his tone. You turned to give him a sharp glare, so far today Zach had been the only guy not to look at your breasts. “I still have one more idea.” You mused aloud. 

Zach rolled his eyes. Of course you did. 

When the bell rang you’d headed for your locker to dump all your school stuff inside. Your jacket was zipped all the way up as you shoved things into your locker. This had to be the craziest thing you’ve ever done, but fuck you wanted Monty so damn badly. So badly in fact that you’d do about damn near anything to make that happen. You walked with confidence even though nothing but fear coursed through you with every step. You approached the locker room, knowing the boys had just finished baseball practice. Meaning they were all sweaty, and showering. And naked. You sucked in a sharp breath before shoving the locker room door open, and immediately every pair of eyes were on you. Some guys wolf whistled, some guys covered their junk, some didn’t. Gross. Your eyes however were set on one person. Zach’s eyes widened as soon as he’d seen you, now this did surprise him. 

Monty’s back was to you but with one look at Diego and he was turning around, an amused expression on his face when he saw you. Once you were stood in front of Monty you reached for your jacket zipper before pulling it down and shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. Monty’s expression shifted once he’d noticed you were no longer wearing the crop top and wore only the black lacy bra you’d written on. Yours and Monty’s eyes met in an intense stare down, you could feel the sexual tension beginning to fill the entire room. Monty had one eyebrow raised while he looked at you. “Y’know baby if De La Cruz here won’t do anything, I’m sure I could give you a good night.” A guy said from your left, but you didn’t bother to look over at him. 

“Good thing it doesn’t take brains to be a baseball player. It clearly says ‘FOR MONTY’ meathead.” You fire back, noticing the way Monty’s mouth quirked up at your words. The baseball player slinks back as the rest of the team ‘oohs’ and begins to tease him. You and Monty continue your stare down and it’s simply erotic. “Well Montgomery? Whatcha think?” Another player said as you and Monty stood nearly chest to chest. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage as his nearly expressionless face slid into a sly smile. “I think the rest of you nasty fucks has seen enough of her tits.” Monty said simply before swiftly hauling you up and over his shoulder. A gasp escaped your lips followed by giggles as Monty marched to the door of the locker room as the rest of the team whistled and cheered Monty on. 

“Monty, where are we going?” You shriek with laughter as he carries you down the hallway, purpose in his steps. Monty’s hand rests on your ass and he gives you a sharp slap, “literally anywhere else.” He says, his eyes scanning around for the nearest place he can screw your brains out. “I don’t have a shirt on!” You exclaim, gasping when his palm comes down on your ass again. Monty chuckles, “baby soon you won’t have anything on at all.” His words send jolts of arousal shooting straight between your legs. Finally Monty spies an empty classroom and throws the door open before locking it behind him. He drops you to the ground, his pupils dilated and his eyes fixed on you. 

“I have been hard as a rock all fuckin’ day from the shit you just pulled.” Monty said, his voice husky as he stalked towards you. You slid back to sit on the teachers desk, your wide eyes watching him as he drew nearer and nearer to you. “I’m sorry Monty.” Your voice is so innocent and soft it nearly makes him jizz his pants when he sees the doe eyes you’re simultaneously flashing him. “Are you? Because you just walked around with your tits on display for everyone to see. All. Fucking. Day. Then you waltz your sexy little ass into the locker room and show your beautiful tits in that bra for all my boys to see?” Monty has an edge to the tone of his voice, a dangerous predatory edge. You nibble on your bottom lip as you nod up at him. 

“These are my tits, isn’t that right baby?” Monty asks, reaching up to harshly squeeze your breasts through your bra. You nod immediately, nearly careening into his hand when he gently strokes his fingers down your cheek. “Then why in the hell did you let every guy in the entire school see them? Hm?” He’s definitely angry. You weren’t expecting anger, you couldn’t deny however that his anger had your panties completely soaked. “I just wanted your attention.” You explain with a sigh, whining when he pulls his palm away from you. Monty nodded slowly, the angry expression still very plainly on his face. “Well you got everybody’s damn attention Y/N. If I’m going to be kind and give you my cock we need to come to some sort of understanding.” Monty says, crossing his arms as he glowers at you. You nod quickly, your breasts still spilling out of your bra in front of Monty’s eyes. It was very distracting. 

“First of all, these are my perfect tits and only I get to see them. Understood?” Monty demands, walking behind you. His arms reach up to open the clasp of the bra, “yes Monty.” Your entire body is buzzing with anticipation as you feel his fingers trail lightly down your spine. “In fact this entire perfect, tight little body is mine got it?” His voice is stern as he presses his front to your back. You nod weakly as his hand trails down to your navel. His thumb brushes against your nipple as his hand travels downwards and you whine, arching your back into his touch. “Second, if we do this it can’t be a one time thing. You will ruin me for life if I never get to taste your pussy again. I’ll never be able to fuck anyone else without thinking of you.” Monty breathed, his nose nudging down your neck as his fingers hit the waistband of your jean shorts. 

You smile widely when you hear his words, “you’ll get to fuck me whenever you want.” you agree instantly and Monty hums in approval against your skin. Monty’s hand continues past your shorts to rub lightly at your inner thighs. “Monty please.” Your voice is a mix of frustration and desperation as he begins to bite down on your shoulder, and his hand continues it’s torturous ministrations on your inner thighs. “Lastly, you can’t fuck anyone else. If you want this, then you’re mine. I find out you’re banging some other guy I’ll beat him to a pulp. Got it?” Monty snaps and you want to agree but you can’t help the words as they come from your lips. “Then you can’t bang anyone either. Just me.” You snap and Monty smiles against your skin. 

“Deal.” Monty agrees as he slides his hand into your shorts, his fingers finding your clit through your underwear. Your head is thrown back against his shoulder as he begins to slowly rub at you while his other hand pops open the button on your shorts to give him more room to tease you. “Diego has been talking about making a move on you, if he does you’re going to turn him down. Understood?” Monty demands, the thought of Diego getting to touch you this way sparking the flame of anger inside his chest. “Don’t want him anyway. Want you Monty,” You reassure him, boldly reaching out to lace your fingers through his free hand. Much to your surprise Monty lets you hold his hand. “You think I wrote your name on my bra today so I could get Diego’s attention?” You fire back, your mouth falling open when Monty carefully pushed 2 fingers into your wet entrance. 

“You did get his attention.” Monty seethed, his left hand reaching up to curl around your throat. The feeling of his hand lightly squeezing at your throat ha you moaning loudly, feeling the heat building in your pelvis as he continues to pump his fingers into you. “Oh you like it when I choke you baby? You like it when I’m in control?” Monty hums in your ear and you can feel his hard cock pressing against your back. You nod quickly, feeling your high approaching as he gently squeezes your throat again. “Seeing you shove Tyler against the lockers- I love it when you’re rough. I touched myself that night thinking about you.” You admitted and you hear Monty hum in approval. “What did you think about baby?” Monty whispers huskily into your ear. 

“Thought of you pressing me against the lockers as you take me from behind. I thought about your thick, hard cock pushing into me over and over again. I thought about your big hands holding my hips as you fuck me so hard I couldn’t walk.” You cry out as your orgasm draws even closer. Monty curls his fingers into you and you cry out loudly as you cum, your body shaking as Monty harshly fingers you through your orgasm. Once the shaking comes to a stop you immediately slide off the desk to kneel in front of Monty. He leans back against the desk as you unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops of his jeans. 

“Wait,” Monty’s voice is hoarse as he pulls you back to your feet, his eyes are on yours as he pulls your lips to meet his. Your lips move together, a mix of tongue, teeth, and heavy breathing. “I couldn’t go another second without doing that.” Monty whispers against your lips before pushing you back down onto your knees. You unbutton his jeans before yanking them down along with his tight boxers. Monty release a sigh of relief as his cock is freed from it’s tight confines, and your mouth waters when you lay your eyes on it. 

“Fuck Monty you’re huge.” You say, your voice sounding nearly dreamy. 

Monty smiles with a raised brow, but that cocky look is wiped off his face when you take his dick into your mouth. You wrap your lips around his leaking head and Monty grips the edge of the desk tightly as you slowly take him further into your mouth. Monty’s hand twists your hair into a ponytail and he holds it tightly, helping you bob your head up and down his shaft. “Christ. You’re fuckin’ good at this baby.” Monty moans as he watches you take his cock down your throat. You hum against him causing his hips to buck into your mouth, and soon you feel Monty’s hips stutter a bit. That’s when he pulls out of your mouth, “I want to cum inside your sweet little pussy.” Monty gasps, still trying to catch his breath as he turns you around.  

Monty bends you over the desk, yanking your shorts and underwear down your legs. You hear the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open and after a minute or so you feel Monty’s cock nudging at your pussy. “You sure you want this?” Monty asks, his hands coming down to grasp at your hips. Instead of answering him you plant your hands flat on the desk as you push back against him, taking his cock all the way inside you. “Shit baby,” Monty hisses, the unexpected feeling making him nearly lightheaded as he looks down and watches you thrust back against him. His hands hold lightly at your hips as he watches you do all the work, fucking yourself back against his cock. “Goddamn, isn’t that a sight to see.” Monty whispers almost to himself, he watches the place you two connect intently, watching his cock disappear inside you nearly has him panting. 

You continue to push back against him for a few minutes, high pitched moans and cries escaping your lips as he brushes against that sensitive spot inside you. It’s not long before Monty is grasping your hips a little tighter to regain control. 

He begins to hardly thrust into you, his hips smacking against yours. Your hipbones grind into the desk, you know that’s going to leave some gnarly bruises and will hurt like a bitch tomorrow. Monty slams into you, his breathing labored as he pounds you hard. You shake with each thrust, your breasts swaying as your body is rocked against the desk. You feel that familiar coil winding in your stomach when Monty reaches around to thumb at your clit. Your mouth is hanging open when you feel Monty’s other hand grab your hair to yank your head back. You cry out when Monty slams into you, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again until you’re cumming all over his cock and down your thighs. Monty cums with a groan, his hands falling to support his weight against the desk so he doesn’t crush you. 

“Best fuck ever.” Monty says breathlessly and you laugh weakly with him. He gently pulls out of you and you wince as he does so. Your upper body collapses against the desk and you’re surprised when you feel Monty cleaning you up with a tissue. Your heart warms at the sweet look in his eyes when he winks at you when you look at him over your shoulder. Monty then presses a quick kiss to your clit, causing your body to jolt before he pulls your panties and shorts back up. “Still don’t have a shirt doofus.” You mumble as you clip your bra behind your back. Monty shrugs as he reaches to lift you in his arms bridal style. Your cheeks are flushed as he opens the door of the classroom to head back to the locker room- he still needs to shower. “You’re too sore to walk anyway.” Monty says, unable to keep the pride out of his tone as he says it. You merely hum in response as your eyes close when you rest your head against his chest. 

“Have a good fuck Monty?” A baseball player teases as Monty pushes back into the locker room, looking like he just got laid with you sleeping in his arms. Monty merely rolls his eyes, “shut up and give me her jacket.” He snaps, sitting down on the bench as Zach hands him your jacket. Monty presses a kiss to your head as he helps you into your jacket before zipping it up. “Here, I can take her. So you can shower.” Zach says, noticing that you’re completely out in Monty’s arms. Monty is hesitant as Zach reaches down to gently pull you into his arms, and when Zach turns Monty stands. “Here, bring her to my car. I just need to shower.” He says, handing Zach his keys. Zach is one of the few people Monty actually trusts with his car keys. 

That was supposed to be nothing more than a quick fuck, but when Monty saw you sleeping in his arms he felt his heart skip a beat. He felt like a good man, like he was protecting you. Monty didn’t normally have feelings for anybody but you seemed to be the exception. 

Fuck. 

_____

want a part 2? lemme know. 

[anon-e-miss]

Ooo! For the prompts what about "Oh look, it's alive." (If it hasn't been done already)

“Oh look, it’s alive.”

Prowl felt the tip of a ped nudge his side.He did not move. Let the think he as incapacitated and when the moment was right he would make his move. His frame ached, unsurprisingly. The blow to his helm had not corrupted his memory. He had fallen. The ground beneath him had opened up and he had fallen down and down. Everything hurt but there was no agony, Prowl hoped this meant his doorwings had been spared. For the second time in a mega-cycle Prowl felt servos that were not his own rooting through his subspace.

“Ric, if ya don’t get yer servos off o’m y’re gonna lose’em.”

“Jazz? What the fraggin’ Pit are ya doin’ here?”

“Got into trouble in Darkmount. Now ‘m tryin’ to get back to Iacon. Figured I’d stop in at the shop since the fragger broke my visor.”

“This fragger?“

“No! Now back off. Ya know ya could actually tell me when ya go plantin’ new traps.”

“Cons have been sniffin’ ‘bout more. Tryin’ to give’em the impression this is just a real tricky cave, ‘n not worth their trouble.”

“Staniz is playin’ a dangerous game.”

“Aren’t we all?”

The invading servos pulled away and were replaced by Jazz’s. He did not probe about Prowl’s subspace but checked him for damage. Prowl onlined his optics. For a moment he was afraid he was blind as he saw nothing but blackness but Jazz leaned over his face. Those white optics glowed, the only light in the darkness. It was eerie. Their glow was bright enough that Prowl could see Jazz’s mouth turn up in a smile.

“Ya a’ight, Prowl?”

“I believe so.”

Jazz helped him to his peds. Prowl tested his doorwings and was relieved to find they were intact. His optics saw only darkness but when he softly clicked his glossa, Prowl’s doorwings saw a little more, and as the echo faded Prowl began to commit the shape of the cave to his memory. It was imperfect. Echolocation was not in the curriculum of the enforcers. Prowl had learned it from his originator, just as he had learned to break out of stasis cuffs.

“My ‘creators’ll have a medkit ‘n we can see to all these dents. Lucky ya didn’t fall on yer back.”

“It was not luck,” Prowl replied. “I turned.”

“Clever. Ya’ve spent more time studyin’ Circuit-Su than I thought.”

“I am out of practice.”

“Maybe we can work on that.”

That would be good. Prowl had not trained with a partner since he and Tumbler had parted ways. He did not trust. His procreators had taught them the importance of this. They had been right. Every time he had trusted someone it had been a disaster. But sparring with Jazz did not require real trust. He was not taking the mech into his berth or into his spark. As he walked alone, with Jazz’s arm around his waist, Prowl ached, and right knee creaked. Prowl felt sticky liquid leak between the gaps in his armour.

“What’re yer levels like?”

“40%. I have a leak in my leg. I have diverted the flow.”

“I hope ya don’t expected me to apologize,” Ric said. His red visor glowed eerily in the darkness. Did they always wear them? Even when they were in their natural environment.

“No,” Prowl replied.

“Yes,” Jazz said. Ric snorted. There was no apology.

The tight passages opened up into a great cavern and it glowed under the soft light of thousands of crystals. It was still too dark for Prowl to see clearly, but it was more like the dark-cycle than total darkness. They passed mechanisms, some wearing visors like the one Jazz generally wore. Those that did not stared at them with white optics. Stared at him, Prowl thought. More than Jazz or Ric. No one troubled them. He supposed that was a blessing. They came to a row of habsuites carved out of the rock, Ric started up the stares. Prowl was not thrilled, but he followed. Jazz did not give him much of an option. At the top of the long staircase, Ricochet held the door. As Jazz ushered Prowl through, three mechs stood up.

“Jazz!” The tallest of the three was mostly yellow, at least Prowl thought he was. The light was dim. “What trouble have ya drug up now?“

“Just a friend. Got me outta Darkmount, then he got caught in one o’ Ricochet’s traps.”

“Your brother and Geni have been digging like a couple Dwellers the last few weeks. At least they have added the acid bath yet.”

“Pit’s sake,” Jazz grumbled. “Worn me before ya set up lethal traps, would ya?”

“Sit’m down ‘n introduce me. We’ll see if we gotta bring Fixit in.”

“Thanks, Ori. Is Geni ‘round. The fragger took my visor before he got distracted.”

“Ric, why don’t ya find yer genitors. Neither o’em would be happy if they missed Jazz.”

“Sure.”

Prowl sat quietly as the kinsmech spoke around him. He heard them speak, but did not follow the conversation. As often happened, he was distracted by his own thoughts. If the Decepticons actually knew Staniz existed under the desert, not so far from Darkmount, the underground village would have been blown to the pit. They would not need to enter the village, or even properly locate it. As long as the coordinates were anywhere close they need only drop one of the bombs they had dropped on Praxus to obliterate the caves and everything and everyone in them. Were there other communities like this, hidden underground, living out of sight as Autobots and Decepticons tore Cybertron apart over their helms.

“He’s burnin’ up.” A servo touch his helm, feeling almost shockingly cool. Prowl brought his optics back into focus. It was not Jazz, it was... his originator.

“He’s been burning through coolant. Prowl what’re yer levels at.”

“30%.”

“Ya burned or leaked out 10% in half a joor. Ori, mind if I raid your stores?”

“Have at it. Prowl? ‘M gonna open up yer leg ‘n see where the leak is.”

“I appreciate your assistance.”

“Ya got manners. Jazz must drive ya crazy.”

“He puts a concerted effort into it.”

“Ha!” Jazz replied. “Two cubes, Prowl. Drink’em ‘n we’ll see where that puts ya.”

“Put a cold compress on his helm too. I think that’s where the trouble really is.”

“Ya think he’s got a leak in his helm? Frag!”

“No. I think he’s got a glitch givin’m some grief.”

“A glitch? Prowl?”

“I will not crash,” Prowl said, feeling defensive. They called him a glitch and a drone. These were just insults, they did not really know. Not even Ratchet knew. Jazz laid a compress over Prowl’s helm and sat down next to him. He helped Prowl drink the coolant.

“If ya do, ya do. We’re safe enough. How ‘n the fraggin’ Pit did I not know you had a glitch.”

“I don’t imagine anyone knows, do they, Prowl?” Punch said. His tone was gentle, so were his digits as he probed Prowl’s knee.

“No.”

"Not even Ratchet?” Jazz asked.

“No.”

“He’s gonna have yer platin’.”

“I found the leak,” Punch said, Prowl scarcely nodded, not wanting to disturb the cool cloth, it was a considerable relief. “I can patch it. Just relax.”

“Ratchet does not need to know,” Prowl said. It sounded too much like a plea to Prowl’s own audios. Even if that was what it was.

“Don’t ya need maintenance sometimes?”

“I manage.”

“Ya know it ain’t a big deal, Prowl. Red’s got a glitch ‘n no one cares.”

“It’s an old habit, ain’t it Prowl?” Punch asked. “Hidin’. Ya emerge wit it?”

“Yes.”

“Yer procreators knew.”

“They discovered it when I was a newling.”

“They must o’ been scared.”

“The assassinated the medic who made the diagnosis before he could report it to Central Health.”

“Hold up,” Jazz said. “Why’d they go that far?”

“Praxus had laws, Jazz,” Punch explained. Prowl wondered how he knew. “No matter the age if a defect was uncovered, they were ‘sposed to be reported to the state to be “managed”. Sometimes managed meant euthanasia, sometimes it meant repairs, or mnemosurgery.”

“The nature of my glitch would have required my processor all but be replaced in its entirety. My procreators could not tolerate the thought. They hid my defect well. I was home schooled, and trained to manage my glitch. I did well. Until I crashed during an enforcer exercise and my partner reported me to the CH. We were all arrested. I was detained in an CH facility to be “corrected”. My procreators broke me out and got me to Rodion. They went back for my brother but they were recaptured.”

“‘M sorry,” Jazz said. “When ya said not all cultures criminalize defects, ya were speakin’ bout yer past. He did not know.”

“Not then. I refused to allow him to perform mnemosurgery on me. He believed I could be fixed. He was angry I was too prideful to allow it.”

“Ya don’t need to be fixed. In Rodion ‘n Iacon they’d say I outta replace my optics wit standard issue blue ones so I would need to worry ‘bout visors. ‘M not effectively blind because my optics are bad. ‘M effectively blind ‘cause my optics are too good. ‘M thinkin’ yer processor’s the same.”

“That is an adapt comparison.”

“Let’s test yer knee,” Punch said. Prowl bent and straightened it as ordered. “Good. Give’m another cube o’ coolant. Just be safe. That’s how ya stop yerself from crashin’ too much, ain’t it. Ya go through coolant.”

“An obscene amount. I pay out of my own account. I am not stealing from the Autobots...”

“Takin’ what ya need to function ain’t stealin’. Ya ‘n me’ll see Ratchet when we get back. Maybe ya outta get some medgrade added to yer rations. I know Red does.”

“Okay.”

Prowl did not know why he wanted to cry. No. That was not true, he knew exactly why. He was utterly overwhelmed and utterly exhausted and having anyone care even this much was more comfort that he had been allowed in vorns and vorns. Since Praxus had been destroyed, Prowl had wondered what had become of his procreators, he had not felt the bonds break. Now he knew, and there was no peace knowing, only helplessness and guilt.

“I suppose yer procreators didn’t make it out,” Jazz said, softly as he placed another cube of coolant into Prowl’s servos.”

“Barricade broke them out before the bombing. They are detained. He could not convince them to enlist. He has kept them prisoner all this time. That was why he wanted me to defect. He thought that was the push that they would need.”

“Fraggin’ aft,” Jazz hissed. “He didn’t tell ya where?”

“No.”

“No matter. We’ll figure it out. ‘N we’ll spring them ourselves.”

[svtxsoju]

00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!! 

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Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju! 

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course! 

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are. 

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes. 

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down. 

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.” 

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation. 

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.” 

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!” 

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.” 

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.” 

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe. 

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next. 

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!” 

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.  

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.” 

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute. 

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!” 

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air. 

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances.  “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?” 

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I  can do it, Jihoon?” 

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered. 

“You know what I mean!”  

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!” 

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ” 

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

 Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.” 

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?” 

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.” 

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.” 

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?” 

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her. 

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

 “It’s for my research!”

[trensu]

Episode 6: the One Where LWJ is Drunk and Gets Married

YES, GUYS GALS AND NB PALS, WE ARE AT THIS MOST WONDERFUL EPISODE.

OUR FIRST INTRODUCTION TO DRUNKJ!LWJ

AND THE HANDFASTING THAT INSPIRED A MILLION FICS

Okay, to set the scene, we’ve got JC, NHS and WWX having a sneaky drinking party with Forbidden Alcohol

Obviously, LWJ can spidey-sense when a rule is being violently broken so he appears at the scene of the crime to BREAK UP THE PARTY (or possibly a threesome?? He’s not sure but he’s gonna put a stop to that immediately)

HIS SERIOUS BB FACE IS SUPER ADORABLE HERE, GUYS

LIKE, I’M MORE PARTIAL TO WWX BUT UGH, LWJ IS SO CUTE HERE???

IT’S AWFUL

WWX: *bounces right into lwj’s space* join us for a drink lan zhan!! We earned it after defeating the Haunted Water!!

LWJ: *stares over wwx’s shoulder* alcohol is forbidden in the cloud recesses

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK HIM IN THE FACE, LWJ?? IS IT BECAUSE HE’S SO CLOSE TO YOU SUDDENLY???

WWX: chill out dude *playfully tugs on lwj’s sleeve*

Oh man, the glare that lwj shoots at wwx’s hand here could have started a fire. I mean, it must have at least burned a little with how quickly wwx lets go

LWJ: Report to the Punishment Chamber

Did they have to call it ‘punishment chamber’??

It sounds like some kind of kinky sex dungeon, which, like, to each their own,(i’ll read some kinky sex dungeon fic every once and a while, myself)

But this is Ancient Fantasy China summer school…seems a little inappropriate in context

ANYWAY

WWX again tries to coax LWJ in to having a drink with them. He doesn’t understand how someone can just…not drink alcohol. Oh wwx, you budding alcoholic you

And here WWX nobly sacrifices himself to save his drunk buddies by distracting lwj (who was about to call for backup, like a narc) and pins some sort of mind-control talisman on him

Wwx: sit and have a drink with me!

Lwj: *sits down and takes a shot*

Lwj: *passes out*

Wwx: omg i killed him. WAKE UP YOU CAN’T STAY HERE!! YOU HAVE TO GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!! 

Wwx: *proceeds to gently guide lwj onto the bed*

You know after that initial panic, wwx looks too damn pleased with himself, especially after he gets lwj to call him wei-gege

Wwx suddenly notices that lwj’s ribbon is off kilter and informs him of it bc that’s what friends do

Wwx: your ribbon is crooked

Lwj: *scandalized gasp* crooked??

Why’s he so adorable when he’s drunk?? LOOK AT HIM TRYING TO SEE HIS OWN FOREHEAD AND GETTING ALL CROSS-EYED, WHAT A CUTIE

Wwx: i can help!! 

Lwj: *slaps wwx’s hand* Go Away

Wwx: you’re making it worse!!

Lwj: *slaps wwx’s hand away harder* DON’T TOUCH! THE RIBBON IS ONLY FOR FAMILY AND SIGNIFICANT OTHERS

And now we have a way to measure their queer queer love for each other without making the censors mad

How does this show do it?? This is gayer than most of the stuff aired in the US and the US doesn’t even have that kind of censorship laws media producers here are a bunch of COWARDS, disney i’m looking at you

Wwx: lol, significant others, really?

Lwj: what’s so funny

Wwx: nobody’s gonna marry into the lan clan with your thousands of dumb rules and chronic allergy to fun

LOLOLOL BOY HAS NO CLUE. JUST YOU WAIT WWX, YOU’RE GONNA EAT THOSE WORDS

Wwx: nope, you are gonna be Forever Alone

Lwj: …that’s fine

This is actually kind of heartbreaking tbh

He’s so resigned and pretending so hard not to care!!

HE TRULY BELIEVES HE’S NOT LOVABLE *UGLY CRYING*

Idk how the actor did it bc lwj still has a very placid expression on his face but it somehow manages to convey like, a sense of loneliness while still looking adorably drunk?? Idk man, i think black magic might be involved

All this to say POOR BB LAN ZHAN, COME HERE SWEETIE AND LET ME HUG YOU. YOU’RE GONNA BE FINE, I SWEAR.

Wwx is so incredulous at this response. Like he totally believes lwj would be okay staying alone forever but he doesn’t understand it

Bc wwx is a dumb teenage boy who doesn’t yet have the emotional intelligence to see that lwj is just saying that bc he’s scared and hurting

Now we get to see an acute case of Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome like we did back in episode 2!

Wwx: your mother must be so bored here all the time

DAMN IT WWX

WHAT IS IT WITH HIM AND BRINGING UP PEOPLE’S DEAD MOTHERS???

LWJ: i don’t have a mother 

He says flatly HIDING HIS SORROW

*UGLY SOBBING*

HE’S SO SAD AND LONELY GUYS

IT HURTS TO LOOK AT

WWX: you can’t not have a mother! Somebody gave birth to…oh.

There’s a crack vid somewhere on youtube with this scene voiced over “it was at that moment he realized…he Fucked Up”

And it’s true

Dumb boy

Here WWX makes up by sharing his sad orphan story with LWJ. it’s so sweet

THEIR SONG IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND WHILE THIS EXCHANGE HAPPENS

UGH THIS SHOW

LISTEN, ALL THIS HAS HAPPENED ALREADY AND WE’RE BARELY 10 MINUTES INTO THE EPISODE

LIKE, WHAT??

HOW. HOW CAN YOU GIVE ME SO MANY FEELINGS IN TEN MINUTES. THE FIRST TEN MINUTES OF THE EP EVEN.

WWX: my parents died when i was four and I can’t remember their faces–but i do remember getting chased by feral dogs

POOR BB WWX

HE CAN’T EVEN REMEMBER THEIR FACES 

OH, but we do get to see Actual BB!wwx in a brief flashback (within a flashback, remember this summer school business is not present time, how weird is that) and he’s riding a donkey while his mama and papa walk beside him. It’s adorable.

And after all that Emotional Vulnerability, he’s like “i’ll drink to that bro!” and makes a toast

I actually kind of like the toast he makes here with lwj tho

He tells him “may we never forget what is worth remembering or remember what is worth forgetting”

Idk if that’s like, a traditional toast or something he made up on the spot, but i like it

We get a brief moment of plot development here. 

AND OOOOH, THEY’RE ABOUT TO GET IN TROUBLE!!

So some Lan SNITCH barges into the room where lqr and lxc are at and is all “we caught wwx drinking Forbidden Alcohol!” and lxc’s expression is all gently amused

but then Lan Snitch continues “LWJ was with him!!” and lxc’s amused expression quickly morphs into Very Alarmed

(right before that all happened tho we get to see lwj fall out of bed, still passed out drunk and wwx laughs at him. I can’t even hold that against him bc i totally laughed at lwj too)

The camera now shows us some frankly HORRIFYING beating sticks (paddles?? Do they qualify as paddles?? THEY’RE HUGE AND SCARY AND MADE OF NIGHTMARES)

And bc LWJ is too honorable for his own good

Lwj: i am at fault and accept my punishment!

And goes on his knees to willingly get beaten. STOP THAT LWJ

WWX IMMEDIATELY steps in to take the blame, like no, it’s actually my fault bc i forced him to drink when he didn’t want to. LAN ZHAN SHOULDN’T GET PUNISHED!!

LQR: (proving that lans are all Dramatique) ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN CLOUD RECESSES??

Take a chill pill, old man. A teenager getting drunk is not gonna start the apocalypse (probably)

And here lwj completely ignores wwx’s attempt to absolve him and is all no, I Made a Mistake and Must Get Punished 

Wwx: STOP ASKING FOR PUNISHMENT YOU IDIOT

So the punishment is kind of…harsh, but also lol bc as soon as wwx sees lwj take the beating without flinching or even staggering under the strength of the hits (lwj is truly a stronger man than i; one look at those Nightmare Sticks I would’ve run for the hills), he grits his teeth and forces himself to stay steady

Wwx: *internally but you can totally read it in his face* i’m not gonna let that bastard one-up me!! I have WAY more experience taking punishments. I am the punishment KING.

Okay so that all happens and afterwards WINGMAN LXC STRIKES AGAIN

LXC: wwx, you should definitely visit the family’s private cold spring

LXC: you know, so you can heal faster and not miss class

LXC: not for any other reason

I’D LIKE TO TAKE THIS MOMENT TO THANK GOD AND ALSO JESUS FOR THE UPCOMING SCENE

WE ARE AT THE COLD SPRING

LOOK AT WWX RUNNING TOWARDS LWJ

WET, HALF-NAKED LWJ

Wwx: *leans coquettishly against a tree thing and pouts* why didn’t you tell me about this spring? Friends don’t keep secrets from friends!!

wwx, you’re so clever, how can you be so stupid – boy is flirting at max level and doesn’t even realize it???

Lwj: HOW ARE YOU EVEN HERE *frantically robes up like some virginal maiden which he kinda is*

Wwx: your brother told me!

Lwj: *internally* brother why

And here wwx gets into the cold spring

Wwx: so cold so cold, let me get close to you where it’s warmer~! *dives right into lwj’s personal bubble*

Lwj: *takes a HUGE step back*

Wwx: *pouts* you know i didn’t like you much before but after our Romantic Moonlit Sword Fight and our Sword Fight By the Waterfall, i’ve decided i like you a lot and we should definitely be friends forever

Lwj: *doesn’t even look at wwx* That’s Not Necessary

Wwx: before you reject me, let me show you all the ~benefits~ to being my friend! *starts to strip*

(I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING YOU, HE LITERALLY SAID BENEFITS AND STARTED TO GET NAKED)

LWJ *is Horrified in a Repressed Gay Way* WHAT ARE YOU DOING

WWX: getting naked?? To heal better?? I thought this was obvious???

LWJ: *determinedly walks away*

WWX: wait don’t leave!! I’ll keep my clothes on! Anyway you should definitely visit me in yunmeng and i can pick lotus seeds for you. That’s totally what i meant about benefits.

LWJ: no

WWX: i can also introduce you to all the pretty girls there!

I CRACK UP EVERY TIME AT THIS. WWX, THAT IS A WHOLE GAY BOY YOU’RE TALKING TO, OH MY GOD

Then it turns out the cold spring is actually Haunted Water 2: This Time It’s Personal and tries to drown them

See this is why i don’t trust any bodies of water

They’re all out to get us

AND NOW WE GET TO THE  CAVE OF WONDERS (or cold pond cave, whatev)

Wwx: what is happening

Lwj: *is fascinated by the cave of wonders*

Lwj: *internally* ooooh Magic Guqin!! (BECAUSE HE’S A NERD LOLOL)

Magic Guqin: NOT TODAY SATAN *attacks wwx*

Wwx: WHY IS IT ATTACKING ME, I DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING YET!!

brief pause here to point out that we meet the bunnies now!! Hello bunnies!!! Everyone in the fandom loves you~!!! 💗💗💗

Okay so Magic Guqin continues to attack wwx but wwx is a Clever Boy and figures out that it’s only attacking him because he doesn’t have a sacred lan ribbon

Wwx: lwj, quick, give me your ribbon!

Lwj: *FLIES RIGHT OVER TO WWX and proceeds to bind their wrists together with the SACRED RIBBON ONLY FAMILY ANd S.O.’s CAN TOUCH*

Then the camera zooms in on the metal piece of the ribbon that is now swaying gently between them like, Subtlety? Never heard of her!

Camera: yep, this is totally a straight thing that straight bros do together

So now that they’re bound together for eternity the boys approach the Magic Guqin

Lwj slaps wwx’s hands away from the guqin here – just bc i let you touch the sacred ribbon doesn’t mean you can touch the magic guqin that tried to murder you

BC LWJ IS A MUSIC NERD AND IS TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER THE PRECIOUS MUSICAL HEIRLOOM

LWJ proceeds to reverently play the Magic Guqin and we have this moment where he’s like, floating in space surrounded by glowy blue lights??

Idk man, it’s weird but we’ll roll with it

This is the first time we see him communicate with spirits using music, btw. 

Now we meet Lan Yi!! Who is a badass and important for plot reasons but the Valid Reason she’s mentioned here is because SHE OFFICIATES THE WANGXIAN WEDDING (bc we’ve already established that we’re not here for the plot lol)

the boys are tied together with the sacred ribbon and then they bow to a clan elder. How is that not, bare minimum, a handfasting??? 

Okay, technically, lwj bowed to the elder first to show respect while wwx stood there all stunned until lwj reminded him of the Importance of Manners. Then wwx bowed. But I’m pretty sure that still counts.

“You two being here must be destiny!” lan yi says, “i’m gonna do some plot exposition so pay attention.”

Thankfully we are not lwj or wwx so we don’t have to pay attention at all!!

At some point, wwx makes a clever comment and lan yi is all “wwx you’re as smart as i thought!! 

Yes yes i definitely approve of you marrying my great great great grand-son/nephew/whatever the heck he is, idk i’ve been in this cave too long with only bunnies for company" (🎶bunnies are better than people, buns don’t you think that’s true~?🎶 I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT REFERENCE, DISNEY YOU STILL SUCK I JUST HAVE POOR SELF-RESTRAINT)

Okay, she for real complimented wwx’s intelligence (bc I guess everyone’s hot for WWX’s big brain? Idk) but i’m pretty sure she was thinking the rest of that really loudly in her head

Then more plot stuff happens and the episode ends!!!

Beautiful, phenomenal episode. One of the MOST IMPORTANT Wangxian episodes we have!! 100/10 stars, would watch again.

Return to Masterpost

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Scythes And Stories Chapter 3 - A Sinking Ship

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

---------------------------------------------------

“Interesting? What do you mean, interesting?” Ariadne fired back, pulse pounding and palms sweating. “There’s no possible way you are here for my benefit, so that inevitably means you’re here to kill me.”

“You are clever, aren’t you? Well. You needn’t worry. I have no plans to harm you.” the girl said, in almost a murmur. It was at this moment that the girl took the final step and closed the space between them. Why is she doing this? And, more importantly… why am I letting her?

Lifting a leather clad hand, the girl traced one finger down Ariadne’s cheek. “What are you doing?” Ariadne whisper shouted, very aware of how she hadn’t made any attempt to move even an inch. “It’s very rare for one of you to be alive at this point.” the girl said, almost contemplatively. “You say you have no plans to hurt me? Well, I cannot say the same. Not after everything you’ve done. And yes, I do know who you are. You’re the Lady of Death, the famous assassin.” the other girl’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly with surprise before the mask fell down again.

“Yes, that is my title. But it is not my name. My name, Princess Ariadne, is Anna.”

In the kingdom of Luna, far across the ocean, two princes kiss. Happily, softly, content and free in their love. “Now, Alastair. You know we mustn’t dawdle much longer. The Council is expecting us.” the boy named Thomas said, fake but cheerful chiding in his eyes.

“And you know that I couldn’t give any fewer fucks then I already do about the Council’s impossible scheduling.” Alastair replied, chuckling. “Oh come on now, you. You cannot mean that? They are your friends, your family.” Thomas said, grabbing Alastair’s hand and trying to lead him towards the door out of their bedroom. “I know what I said.” Alastair replied, allowing himself to be dragged, mischief and love in his eyes. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Thomas flung open the door and they took off running down the hallway, hand in hand, giggling at their recklessness and happy to be where they were.

“Now, onto the topic of Solis.” Councilmaster Nicholas droned. “They are rapidly losing money from the royal coffers, so they will need to increase the uptake within the next few weeks…” Alastair snuffled a snort, expertly dodging Thomas’s halfhearted glare. “Thomas? Alastair? What do you have to say on this matter?” Nicholas asked, eyebrows raised with a smile of his own present. “I believe if Solis wishes to stay out of bankruptcy, they must look to other, different places.” Thomas said, carefully phrasing what he said. The council’s chatter resumed, and Alastair and Thomas made eye contact again. They need to get their heads out of their asses and grow up you mean. Alastair said silently, his face appropriately blank but eyes dancing. Yes, my love, that is in fact what I mean. I just do not prefer to receive another lecture from the Councilmaster telling me to be respectful. An evil tilt to his mouth, Alastair sent another silent message. You’re boring, but I do love you so I suspect I must endure. Affectionate looks on both boy’s faces, they tuned back into the conversation. This resolve did not last long, and soon thoughts drifted to laughter and wind and shining silver moonlight.

Steel clanged and clashed as James and Cordelia sparred in the training courtyard. Both stubborn to the point of death, neither was wielding, and the fight was heating up. Dodging and covering, shielding and stabbing, the two fought. Onlookers were gathering. Cheering to the sky, bets were placed and laughter heard on who the winner would be.

A few minutes later, it was declared. Cordelia won, taking advantage of James's split second slip up. “No hard feelings, of course?” she shot across to him, eyes still glowing. “Of course, my Daisy. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though, of course, you were always too good for me.” James replied, taking a gulp of water and sticking his tongue out at Cordelia. Laughing, she punched him on the shoulder. “Stop that talk this instance, or I shall turn you into a tapestry.” she said, face schooled into an expression of mock sternness. “Whatever is happening here?” a voice called from the entrance to the sparring ring.

“They’re sparring, dumbass.” another voice replied.

“I am aware of that. I do know what a sparring ring is, despite what you may think.” the first voice replied, exasperated but affectionate.

Turning, Cordelia and James found the source of the commotion - Alastair and Thomas. The two were arguing back and forth, but it could not be clearer that they were desperately in love.

Laughing, James strode towards them, Cordelia close behind. “What brings you here on this fine day?” James asked, stopping in front of them with a friendly grin in place. “We’ve just come from a Council meeting.” Thomas replied, fatigue in his features. “Apparently, things in Solis are continuing to heat up.” Alastair chimed in, features animated. “I do wonder which minority they will attempt to lobby behind them next.”

“Alastair. You need to count yourself lucky I agree with you or I would be forced to reprimand you.” Thomas replied as Cordelia snickered. “I’m absolutely terrified.” Alastair drawled, also laughing. “Do leave my brother be, Thomas. He is right! And what will you do? Exploit your crown prince privileges?” Cordelia said earnestly, innocence far too pure to be believable shaping her face.

“Be reasonable, Daisy. We all know he will not do that.” James interjected, his teasing voice making an appearance.

“You are all heathens. Why do I associate myself with you.” Thomas muttered.

“Because I’m your sister and you love me, and me and my husband are respected warriors of your kingdom.” said Cordelia

“Because I am your brother in law and you are bound to.” added James

“Because I’m the love of your life.” smirked Alastair

“You’ve just proved my point.” Thomas said again under his breath, but he barely made it a few more moments before he burst into laughter, the charade falling. “What would I do without you three?” Thomas asked, hastily adding “That was rhetorical!” before anybody could jump in with another witty quip.

Blood on the stones. Blood, splashing down. Two hooded figures, faces hidden from view, muttering to each other. “Is that everybody in the house?” one asked, glancing around the room. Christopher was peeking out from a crack in the cabinet he’d slipped inside. Upon looking out, he felt some sort of twisted relief he’d managed to hide in here in time. His sister Anna was gone. “I miss her already.” Christopher thought miserably. “It should be.”

“The report mentions two children. Where are they?”

“Who knows. Away at a friend’s perhaps? Out playing? Either way, they’re not…” the taller figure drifted off, and Christopher froze, trying his best to not even breathe. The next few seconds passed in flash and then the cabinet was open and he was out in the harshly glowing and vivid scarlet spattered room. “Well well well. What do we have here?” the other person asked, curiosity in their voice. Christopher said nothing, glaring at them both. “This must be one of the kids. Where the girl is, I don’t know.” the taller one said, also appraising Christopher. “She doesn’t matter anymore.” the other said sharply before bending down to meet Christopher’s gaze. “Would you like to come with us, young man?” he asked, not an ounce of kindness or sympathy in his voice.

“Thanks Christopher! Have a great day!” Rose called cheerily before exiting the room. Not wasting a second, Christopher turned off the light indicating the status of the shop, and moved to the back room. Christopher was the best apothecary in the castle, dealing herbs of all kinds and uses. He also, though it was not public knowledge, assisted with poison’s and interrogation when needed. He’d been here for 11 years, training to become an apothecary after being recruited by the castle managers. They thought he didn’t remember what truly happened. He did remember, and he’d harbored that flame and fury inside him like an ember against the chill. Always playing the nice guy, the sweet gullible apothecary. “I wonder what happened to Anna.” he’d wondered on more than one occasion. He’d never found her again, despite copious amounts of searching. “They will underestimate me at their own risk. But the day will come when they regret that.”

“Lucie! Are you almost done!” Matthew called from the next room. “Yes of course I’m almost done I am not that slow, and you know that.” Lucie shouted back, laughter in her voice. She shot into the room a few seconds later, kissing Matthew deeply before pulling away and dropping onto the chair. “And yes, before you have the opportunity to make a sarcastic comment, I am aware of why we need to hurry.”

“I surely hope it isn’t because you worry about what Reginald will think.” James said, seating himself besides Lucie. “Oh please. I couldn’t care less what he thinks. I married him for a farce and he knows it. However, I don’t think his pride will recover from knowing I chose you, a Ravens smuggler, over him.” Lucie snarked back, no true bite in her voice.

“Once again, I do not care about his pride. It needs a good beating every now and then.” Matthew replied before quickly sobering. “All jokes aside, we should hurry and try and get to our destination. If everything goes well, we’ll be meeting Anna there in just under an hour.” Nodding, Lucie stood. Matthew followed suit and they both headed out the door.

Standing in the middle of the opulent room, Anna took a deep breath. “I’m here to kill her. Why haven’t I completed my job yet? This is worrying.” Anna thought to herself. You haven’t because she is beautiful, and because you refuse to murder a caged creature a voice from even deeper within Anna whispered, softly but persistently. Shoving it down, Anna stepped back and hid her face from Ariadne briefly before turning back.

“You have exactly 15 seconds to explain why you’re here or I will scream for help.” Ariadne stated, beginning to pace the room. “I think we both know you won’t do that, but I will oblige you.” Anna replied, raising her eyebrows. “I am in fact supposed to kill you. I will not tell you why, though suffice it to say that me and my associates are attempting to stop your father’s meddlings. At this point I cannot claim I intend to kill you anymore, as I do that. I do however, intend to help you escape.” Saying nothing, Ariadne gestured for Anna to continue. Sensing the curiosity in her eyes, Anna hid a smile. Smothering the small bursts of admiration, Anna continued. “I am also going to assume your father told you nothing about this specific situation. I will say this bluntly. Solis is dying. It is a sinking ship. And you father and his Council are desperate for a lifeboat. So, he plans to kidnap you.” Anna, noting Ariadne’s quick shock and hastily continued. “Your disappearance will fuel the people. They will rally behind the crown and donate anything and everything they have… just to save the crown princess. He will take their money and use it for nothing good.”

“He would never…” Ariadne trailed off, and Anna could see the realization in her face. It came quickly, right after the knee jerk reactions of denial and anger. The king loved his daughter in his own way, Anna believed, but he would always put the kingdom first. “Your death will stop his plans, and stop him from using the weakness of discriminated against groups for his own gain. You can choose to believe me or choose not to, but regardless your choice remains the same. Stay here and vanish, or come with me and become, for the first in your lifetime, free.” making eye contact with Ariadne once more, Anna inhaled, sensing the beginning of something colossally larger than herself.

“So, princess. What will it be?”

[thekidultlife]

To Aru x SVT: Jihoon | Short Story #1

Author’s Notes: Hi this is Hyeri!! I’m trying something new with this series where there would be minimal romance and more on action, friendship and general world building! I wanna try practicing writing action packed scenes because I don’t think I’ve really ever focused on it before. Anyway, this story is of three parts, and based on the anime/light novel A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs! I hope you like this one? I tried ;;w;;

Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader (if u squint)

Genre: Sci-fi, Action, Romance (if u squint)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: N/A

JIHOON’S PROFILE

A_Certain_Ordinary_Day

 Seventh Mist Mall , School District 7, Academy City

11:32 AM

 “This is Judgement! Surrender now before—“

—!!

On a rather monotonous and boring day in Academy City, a large explosion shook an entire mall. 

“This is Y/N from the 166th Branch Division.Yanagi can you hear me?!”

Billows of smoke filled the entire seventh floor of the building, as shards of glass were scattered everywhere. Seventh Mist which was supposedly a popular meeting place for students with schools inside the district was in disarray, yet it was difficult to ascertain the status of those inside the mall as dust and debris covered everything like a thick blanket. 

“Goddamn it, they’re not responding. We need ground crew in there immediately!” 

Your heart was racing, but this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. As the chief officer of the 166th Branch Office of Judgement, which is a city-wide, student-run disciplinary committee, you were in charge of directing and planning what actions to take during emergencies like this, which isn’t really a rare circumstance, considering the fact that Academy City offers powerful abilities to hormonal teenagers. 

“I’ll send in a message, Chief,” a colleague of yours, a middle school student with telepathic abilities, offered through your earpiece.

“Alright. Tell them we need to evacuate those inside the mall,” you replied back, closing your laptop as you ran outside your apartment with plans to go near the area as much as possible. 

“To all Judgement members around the vicinity of Seventh Mist, please confirm your safety to your branch office immediately. If you are fit to perform emergency measures, please do so with caution. I repeat, to all Judgement members—“

You could also hear the message inside your head as you took off on your bicycle, tires screeching as you arrived at the 167th Branch Office, just a few meters away from the mall. You could smell the scent of burning and pulverized concrete as you waded through the streets, the surge of adrenaline keeping you alert.

“Chief of the 166th Branch Office, Y/N reporting!” you shouted as you entered their office. 

You could feel the tension in the air as three people busied themselves to and fro inside the room. Papers were scattered and phone calls were being made while some were in their laptops providing tactical support to the ground team.

“Oh god, thanks for running all the way here Y/N!” Their chief, a high school student stood up from his seat in a panic. 

“No problem,” you replied coolly, keeping your excitement at bay. “So, what’s the situation? Have you called Anti-Skill already?”

“We have. They’re helping as of the moment,” he replied as he sat back down on the chair in front of the computer. “So far the evacuation process is under control. A lot of injured but no one dead, fortunately.”

As you peered behind him, you could see numerous windows on the numerous screens before you. Some showed footage of surviving cameras, some contained information of all known people who entered the mall using facial recognition software and electronic data of those who had transactions in the mall at the time the explosion happened. 

“So, the explosion happened at half past eleven this morning,” he began explaining as he moved the cursor around the screen, looking for something. “We suspect that these three students are responsible for the explosion—Erizawa Rena, Nakamura Aoi and Ito Shizuka—all students from Kirigaoka.” 

As he brought a video footage on the forefront of the screen, you narrowed your eyes and watched closely. 

“There was a big fashion event being held on the seventh floor and they thought it’ll be a nice place to set off an explosion,” the chief narrated as it happened on the footage. “They themselves created it. One of them wrapped the whole floor with copious amounts of propane and the other girl seemed to have pyrokinetic abilities and ignited the place. A Judgement member spotted them but they were too late.”

You raised your brows at how fast Judgement processed the data. “What about the third girl though?”

“We have suspicions that she might be in charge of defending their group from the explosion,” he replied with a shrug. “Not that surprising considering they came from Kirigaoka.”

Kirigaoka Girls’ Academy. It was a prestigious school at the ranks of Nagatenjouki Academy and Tokiwadai Middle School, yet it was different than all of them because they only take students with rare and unusual abilities. What could’ve caused these three girls to bomb an entire mall?

“Chief! We found them!” 

Your thoughts were interrupted as someone in charge of tracking the culprits yelled from behind you. Immediately rushing to her side, you took a peak on the laptop screen and saw live footage from a street cam just a few blocks away from the mall. 

“Good work, Rika!” the chief of the 167th Branch smiled and then gave you a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your time to shine now, Y/N. Judgement is ready to mobilize.”

With a bright grin that was almost bordering maniacal, you sprinted to the four-monitored computer and then opened your own laptop. Cracking your fingers as the software booted up, you read all the details you needed to know about the location, the targets and the Judgement members at your disposal. 

“Alright, here we go,” you muttered on an earpiece which was connected with a cable to your laptop. 

“On your mark, Y/N!” 

A voice crackled on the ear piece, the rush of adrenaline rising in your veins once again. Time to catch some bad girls.

“Teams A and B flank to the left; at 13th to 16th street. Team C and D, got to the other side. We’re going to surround them,” you ordered as your laptop began whirring. “I hope everyone has fireproof gear.”

You watched as points on the map on one of the monitors began to move into a pincher attack, all proceeding smoothly and swiftly. You then closed your eyes. 

12.56% chance of attacking Judgement head on. 32.06% chance of escaping underground. 65.77% chance of creating another explosion to scatter our forces and escape.

Your ability on simple terms was called Precognition. It allows you to see fifteen minutes into the future, but it was far from the likes of spiritual practices like divination and horoscope. You would calculate probabilities of how the future would unfold and categorize them into percentages, much like the chances of drawing a yellow marble in a mix of seven different colors. After calculating those probabilities, you choose one which has the highest chance of happening and then exercise appropriate action. It was much more complicated than that of course, which is why you would often borrow the computing power of your laptop so your brain wouldn’t overload. 

“Electromasters, I want you to disperse the gas molecules as much as you can,” you said through the earpiece. “They’re gonna burn up the place so anyone who can control air particles and so on would be a great help.”

—!!

A powerful shock sent static to your earpiece. You inhaled sharply. 

They’re already starting? This is definitely a diversion. I was right.

“You guys okay?” you asked, worry in your voice as your brain processed their next steps. 

“We’re fine, Y/N. Good thing you warned us about the explosion,” the team head answered. “But at this rate, we couldn’t get close to them at all.”

You clicked your tongue. They were right. 

The fires keep anyone out of close contact with them. You’d guessed they wouldn’t have any combative ability, just a lot of cleverness.

“Alright. For now, continue chasing after them and stop them from creating more explosions,” you instructed them and then turned to the chief of the 167th branch. “I need you to get someone.”

*

It was almost lunchtime. 

Lee Jihoon stepped out of Nagatenjouki Academy with an aloof disposition. Today was another boring day in class and he just wished he could stay in his apartment and write songs all day. Maybe he should get a proxy too, like that other Level 5.

With his headset on, he blocked the incoming noise from the outside world with loud music. He hated it when he could hear things he shouldn’t be hearing; like his apartment neighbors at night. But then again, it was useful. He just needed to control it.

His life since being sent by his aspiring parents to Academy City aftet he just graduated from kindergarten was rather eventful. Maybe it came with the title of Level 5, maybe it was something about his overall luck, but there were just a lot of things going around in this city which many people wouldn’t really notice; things just hiding in plain sight. 

~!!

Jihoon’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing—rather, it was the tingly feeling of sound waves moving against his skin as it vibrated into frequencies he can detect despite the noise cancelling headset. Removing the headset on his ears, Jihoon answered with an irate tone. 

“What is it?”

“It’s Judgement. Y/N is calling for you.”

*

“He says he’s coming.”

You could hear the chief of the 167th Branch call out to you as you continued to maneuver Judgement’s forces to stall the three girls. It has been a few minutes. 

“Make sure he’s coming in quick because most of my calculations are reading huge possibilities of escape, and they’re already tired with all this running around,” you replied back before checking the camera feed of where Lee Jihoon was. 

It should be noted that you didn’t meet him in any kind of Judgement operation or some kind of battlefield. Lee Jihoon was a classmate of yours in Nagatenjouki, and you were the kind and responsible Class President who would go out of your way to deliver class notes to him if he often inclines himself to skip class during afternoon periods, which was a lot of accumulated debt for Lee Jihoon. 

“Alright guys. Just a few more minutes. I sent for some help and—“

“Hi, Class Pres. Heard you need me?”

The person you were talking to didn’t even have the chance to reply or for you to even finish your instructions at all before a familiar voice spoke through the earpiece; probably snatched from the previous owner.

“Hi, Jihoon. That was fast,” you replied back. 

“If you have a bicycle, an esper ability and loads of boredom, nothing is impossible,” Jihoon replied with a truly jaded tone. “So, what do I do?”

*

Jihoon stepped in the middle of a wide road. 

People were already evacuated as per your instructions, and any kind of traffic was diverted away from the area. It was too dangerous.

The plan was already in execution but his role will be coming in much later. So with an eager look, Jihoon just stood there with hands in his pockets, waiting. He could hear the rumbling noise in front of him even though he couldn’t see it. It was probably a few kilometers away. 

“Judgement will be chasing the targets to your position and until they come, stay put and don’t do anything funny.”

He remembers you reminding him sternly of his job and he might’ve replied unenthusiastically to you, but truly, he was brimming with excitement. As the rumbling of explosions and the whistling of wind coming from the firestorms grew louder, the wider his smile becomes. 

“Once the targets come within fifteen meters of Lee Jihoon, get away as quickly and as much as possible.”

Jihoon hears you warn the Judgement units through their earpieces. Even at more than twenty meters, he could still hear you. That was probably a sign of his abilities growing, or maybe your voice was just distinctive that he could easily pick it up. Whatever. That was a question for another time. 

He could now see the three targets you were talking about—just three girls in their school uniform looking weary and exhausted. Just because you have powers doesn’t mean you could run around forever. It’s just a matter of using them effectively. 

Jihoon grinned and prepared himself. 

“Let’s turn this shit up.”

—!!!

A low and heavy vibration immediately fell around the area like waves of force that washed around every object in the vicinity. It was so strong that it seemed like the whole area was shaking continuously.

The targets were instantly on their knees, clutching their chests. 

“What…what is this….?” 

Low frequency noise—one could say that bass sounds, if loud enough can easily emit this kind of noise and cause nausea, heart palpitations and weakness to anyone susceptible to it. Yet with Jihoon’s sound wave manipulation, he can easily increase the intensity of this noise enough to incapacitate anyone within fifteen meters of him. 

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” 

Jihoon spoke as he walked towards the targets and looked down on them with a smile, as they gazed at him in horror. 

“Who—“

He smirked. 

“Time to go to jail, girls.”

*

“I didn’t know you were friends with Shockwave!” 

The chief of the 167th Branch exclaimed after confirming that Anti-Skill members had brought the three girls into custody. Though you were still curious why they did it.

“He’s a classmate. Nagatenjouki isn’t really short of Level 5s, you know,” you replied as you removed your earpiece with a sigh; your braincells tired of all that fuss. 

“That means you’ve seen the Number One Level 5 esper? I heard he goes to school there.”

“Nope. He has a proxy, which is totally unfair,” you replied with another sigh. “I wish I had a proxy to do my equations for me.”

“Same here, but like hell, seeing Level 5s in combat is just so cool! It's like you're watching a movie. He easily brought them to their knees in one move.”

“That’s true. They’re like superheroes—“

“Y/N, you there?”

Jihoon’s voice echoed from the doorway of the office and you instantly stood up and greeted him.

“Oh, I’m here! Good job out there, Jihoon!” you replied with a big smile. 

He only shrugged at your comment. “I do need some exercise from time to time. Sitting in a classroom isn’t really going to make my abilities improve.”

You laughed. “You’re right. Oh, by the way, how would you like to be compensated? I know last time you declined but this one was pretty tricky.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jihoon held up his hands. “You don’t have to and you do bring me notes from time to time, so there’s that and—“

His stomach growled. 

You glanced at him with a grin. “Well, at least your stomach is being honest.”

-Hyeri

TO ARU x SVT series

[pizzaintheuk]

About two month ago started a new Sims 4 account which has a Hetalia character as townies. I don’t have all the packs for Sims 4 but I do use a lot of Mods to do this. Most of the house building I found online.

Each household has background and drama which was fun the think about. I have written over 10 pages of notes for this town so enjoy.   

Luper Family

Boris Luper (Bulgaria) - CHILD, VAMPIRE Traits – Cheerful/ Aspiration – Whiz Kid  

Vladimir Luper (Romania) - ADULT, VAMPIRE Traits – Good, Cheerful, Family- Oriented/ Aspiration – Good Vampire

Mai - (Cat) Traits – Affectionate, Clever, Friendly

Vladimir (Vlad) adopted Boris because of his vampire powers

They took Mia in as most people think black cats are unlucky

Vald doesn’t need the money but has a part time job at a coffee shop

Vlad and Arthur have afternoon tea once a month

Vlad wants Boris to be creative so he started playing the violin

Positive atmosphere in the house

Vlad will cook for Boris as he can still eat human food however not very good

Vlad is a good vampire

Vlad hobby is annoying Elizabeta  

Boris talks to Mia when Vlad goes out

Oxenstierna Family  

Berwald Oxenstierna (Sweden) - YOUNG ADULT Traits – Family – Oriented, Bookworm, Perfectionist/ Aspiration – Successful Lineage

Simon Oxenstierna (Denmark) - YOUNG ADULT Traits – Bro, Goofball, Self- Assured/ Aspiration – Fabuluosly Wealthy

Tino Oxenstierna (Finland) - YOUNG ADULT Traits – Good, Goofball, Cheerful/ Aspiration – Soulmate

Lukas Bondevik (Norway) - YOUNG ADULT/MAGIC Traits – Family- Oriented, Love Outdoors, Bookworm/ Aspiration – Purveyor of Polions

Emil Bondevik (Iceland) - TEEN Traits – Gloomy, Loner/ Aspiration - Angling Ace

Charlotte (Dog) Traits – Jumpy, Smart, Independent

Berwald and Tino are married, Simon is in a relationship with Lukas and Emil is Lukas brother.

Berwald and Simon are brothers but 90% they can’t agree to anything which leave them fighting over stupid things. For example TV remote, who cleaning up and food shopping

Simon is a Manager of a top end company, to bad he to lazy to move out.  

Everyone love Charlotte that the dog get the best treats and love.

Emil keep to himself and hide in the bedroom. No one know he seeing someone 😛

Lukas is over protective with Emil

Tino is a stay at home mum so he does most of the cleaning which Lukas help out using magic

Berwald my find it difficult expressing himself with words but he good at writing it down. His works as a writer.

Simon my be a pain but always help out with bills  

Tino take any holiday seriously!

Wang Family  

Yao Wang (China) - ADULT Traits – Materialistic, Family- Oriented, Foodie/ Aspiration – Master Chef

Kiku Wang (Japan) - TEEN Traits – Genious, Geek/ Aspiration – Computer Whiz

Li Xiao Wang (Hong Kong) - TEEN Traits – Creative, Gloomy/ Aspiration – Musical Genius  

Im Yong Wang (South Korea) - CHILD Traits – Goofball/ Aspiration – Artistic Prodigy

Lin Yi Wang (Taiwan) Traits – Cheerful/ Aspiration – Rambunctious

Pochi (Dog) Traits – Loyal, Smart, Adventurous  

Yao work as a Chef  

Lin Yi wanted a dog for a very long time so Yao after work went and bought a dog so she can shut up.  

Yao favourite is Kiku because of his talent this make Li Xi jealous.  

Yao too old to deal with drama.

Every meal everyone must come to the table and sit together as a family

Lin Yi and Im Yong are trouble maker when bored.

Kiku goes to see Alfred for game night

Lin Yi love flowers  

Li Xiao goes to Emil for emotional support

Yao helps other household with meals

Belischmidt Family  

Gilbert Belischmidt (Prussia) - ADULT Traits – Family –Oriented, Self- Assured, Dog Lover/ Aspiration – Friend of the Animals

Ludwig Belischmidt (German) - TEEN Traits – Active, Bookworm/ Aspiration –Academic

Aster (Dog) Traits – Smart, Couch Potato, Friendly

Blockie (Dog) Traits – Adventurous, Active, Independent

Berlitz (Dog) Traits – Sleuth, Couch Potato, Friendly  

Gilbert work as a manual laborer great at his job and the people love him

Francis or Antonio will walk into the house at random times

All dogs are well behaviour and won't hurt anybody

Ludwig can be shy when near to Feliciano

Every Sunday they have a father and son time which include playing football or watch TV

Gilbert is trying to give up drinking because one time he got so drunk Ludwig had to help him get home.

Gilbert and Elizabeta are rivals with who can do the most push ups  

Ludwig very close to his dad will ask about anything

Gilbert want more dogs in the future

Ludwig need to relax than worry what other people will think about him 

Edelstein Family  

Roderick Edelstein (Austria) - ADULT Traits – Snob, Lazy, Music Lover/ Aspiration – Musical Genius  

Elizabeta Edelstein (Hungary) - ADULT Traits – Active, Good, Cat Lover/ Aspiration – Bodybuilder

Feliciano Edelstein (North Italy) - TEEN Traits – Creative, Art Lover/ Aspiration – Painter Extraordinaire  

Buffi (Cat) Traits – Affectionate, Friendly, Lazy

Roderick work as a professional pianist

Elizabeta is a stay at home mum but gets bored so she goes to the gym or babysit other children round the area

Felliciano has a twin brother (Lovino) but got kick out over a disagreement with the father

Elizabeta still upset about Lovino but Roderick won't speak to him

Elizabeta and Feliciano cook together  

Buffi is the best hot water bottle  

Roderick will drop dead if he has to clean  

Feliciano spend 65% of the time napping

You can tell what mood Roderick by the way he plays on the piano

There is always music playing in the house

Carriedo Family  

Antonio Carriedo (Spain) – ADULT Traits – Childish, Music Lover, Clumsy /Aspiration - Freelance Botanist

Lovino Edelstein (South Italy)- TEEN Traits – Hot-Headed, Loner/ Aspiration – Master Chef

Antonio is a part-time gardener

Lovino ran away because of an argument with his dad. He doesn’t talk about it but grateful Antonio support him.

Antonio is an old friend of the Edelstein family that why Lovino know him

Antonio is very patient with Lovino

Lovino really miss spending time with his brother

Lovino gets jealous when Antonio goes out with Gilbert or Francis  

Lovino like his own space but does get lonely

Antonio just wants everyone to be happy and will do anything to help them

Tomato solve everything  

Lovino is angry with everything including himself

Branginsky Family  

Katyusha Branginsky (Ukraine) – YOUNG ADULT Traits – Clumsy, Family- Oriented, Neat/ Aspiration – Successful Lincage

Natalia Branginsky (Belarus) - CHILD/MAGIC Traits – Mean/ Aspiration – Whiz Kid

Ivan Branginsky (Russia) - TEEN Traits – Borderline Personality Disorder, Shy/ Aspiration – Big Happy Family

Katyusha work at a coffee shop, she tries to be the older sister but is ashamed about how little money they have

Very poor but they get by

Natalia has a ghost friend that she talk to at night

Ivan want friends doesn’t know how to do it without freaking people or say something weird

Natalia is slowly making friends

Katyusha gets worried when Ivan doesn’t want to leave his bedroom

Ivan will knit anything  

Yao will come by with food

Something always breaks in the house

Natalia is scary when she angry

(Will Upload image soon!!!!!)

Zwingli Family  

Basch Zwingli (Switzerland) - ADULT Traits – Family- Oriented, Loner, Perfectionst/ Aspiration – Successful Lineage

Eva Zwingli (Liechtenstein) - CHILD Traits – Good/ Aspiration – Artistic Prodigy  

Basch is Eva father  

Basch is the chief of the town

Basch double check people background (doesn’t trust no one)

Eva doesn’t have a bad bone in her body  

Elizabeta babysits Eva when Basch is busy working

Basch and Roderick are old friends  

If anyone upset Eva expect Basch to threaten them with his gun

Eva love drawing pictures of Basch looking happy  

Eva is really good friends with Natatia  

Basch never talks about his job

Kirkland Family  

Arthur Kirkland (England) - ADULT/MAGIC Traits – Hot-Headed, Bookworm, Snob/ Aspiration – Spellcraft + Sorcery

Alfred Kirkland (America) - TEEN Traits – Active, Goofball/ Aspiration – Leader of the Pack

Arthur work as a teacher  

Arthur is Alfred father  

Arthur is divorced to Francis. One night at a pub he saw Francis flirting with someone else. They spilt everything which including Alfred and Matthew.

Arthur not happy with Alfred tattoo even though he got a big tattoo on his arm when he was young

Alfred wants to be everyone friends and try to fix everyone problems which can make the issue a lot worst

Alfred doesn’t like Ivan because Ivan knows how insecure Alfred is with himself (doesn’t like rejection)

Arthur can’t cook but his magic can fix that

At times when they have a heated argument Arthur wish he had Matthew instead of Alfred

Alfred will make a cup of tea for Arthur before telling bad news (example bad report in school)

Alfred spend most of his time gaming or going out 

Bonnefoy Family  

Francis Bonnefoy (France) - ADULT Traits – Art Lover, Foodie, Romantic/ Aspiration – Soulmate

Matthew Bonnefoy (Canada) - TEEN Traits – Shy, Cheerful/ Aspiration – Bestselling Author  

Francis works as a celebrity chef  

Very close with Matthew will cook together

Alfred comes in after a big argument with his dad. Francis will reason that Arthur doesn’t mean what he says and love him no matter what

People who are not Francis, Alfred or Arthur will forget about Matthew  

Matthew start getting knitting gifts but doesn’t know who it’s from

Francis is back on the dating game but still thinks about Arthur and wants to give it another go

Matthew is never stress  

Arthur calls Matthew once a week to check up on him  

Francis regrets that night and tries to hide his emotion in front of Matthew and friends

Francis love his food however looking good is more important  

I also made clubs for everyone because I am THAT bored 😊

Freedom  - Party till they drop/ Having a great time/ Good vibes/ Away from family drama and life  

Gym  - To keep fit/ Started out with Simon and Berwald/ No drama or Basch will get involve/ Gilbert behave in the gym and it help him stop drinking  

Lets Party - Old friends meeting together/ All trying to get a date but end up getting drunk and gossiping all night/ Antonio end up paying for everyone drinks  

Playtime - Yao set up a play date so it keeps Im Yong and Lin Yin in line. That was a mistake/ Everyone friendly/ They love watching Pokemon/ If someone upset they help one another

      'Ohana' means 'family. ' 'Family' means 'no one gets left behind”

I hope people like this stupid project now I’m heading to the kitchen to drink my problems away 😛

[muddyhippy]

A Tangled Problem

So today is my birthday and I am still working on Night Terrors chapter 6 which fighting me rather impressively but I had this little scene pop into my head and demanded to be written. 

Please enjoy this little bit of fluff from the Lily ‘verse! 

Lily padded into the common room still quite sleepy but with a single goal in mind. She’d got up out of Jonny’s bunk whilst he was still fast asleep determined to wash and get dressed and make a nice breakfast for everyone. She’d had another bad nightmare and Jonny had stayed up late with her telling stories and singing. He made her feel safe and cared enough that the nightmares stopped being horrible and scary in her head for the rest of the night so she wanted to let him sleep and make a tasty breakfast. Her plan was going quite well when she washed and dressed but got stuck, literally, when it came to brush her hair.

 Lily’s hair was a thick mass of candyfloss-soft silvery tangles at the best of times but last night’s upset had obviously made it ten times worse.

 Her brush got stuck and no matter what she did it wouldn’t come free.

 It hurt when she tugged and pulled and struggled. Enough to make tears prick her eyes.

 So she headed to find the one person who’d probably be best to help.

Without ceremony she headed directly to the person sat on the sofa completely absorbed in their music to the point they didn’t notice her approach until she climbed into their lap.

 Tim physically startled to suddenly have a lapful of Lily appear between his chest and his guitar and stare intensely at him.

 “Um hello Sweetness?”

 “Tim! Help!” She pleaded.  

 He tensed, fully poised to murder the shit out of whatever that had prompted this response.

 She pointed.

 Tim’s eyes alighted on her very tangled-in-hair brush caught up in her tresses. His eyes ran a quick diagnostic that helpfully returned the report ‘Ouch’.

 “Oh.” He considered why she was showing him this and came up with nothing, “Um why—?”

 “Because Jonny’s asleep,” She explained simply, “and you’ve got the prettiest hair, you tangle it all up in your goggles but it always ends up nice and untangled again so you’ve got to be good at hair-brushing.”

 That, that was an impressive leap of logic he had to give her that.

 “But Raphaella…?” He began weakly

 “She has really pretty hair too and it’s even longer than yours but it’s never tangled! Yours does so you’ve got more practice at fixing it. Please?” She sniffed, “I’ve tried and tried and it only hurts more.”

 Tim took pity on her, that snarl up did look painful and it was obvious everything she’d tried had made it worse.

 Plus, she was doing the look that Jonny warned him about, the whole ‘her-eyes-take-up-half-her-face-look’ that made his insides get twisty and him want to fix whatever the matter was.

 He suddenly understood why Jonny was willing to do as much stuff as he did. Lily was bloody hard to say no to when she looked like a particularly sad octokitten.

 “Um, alright then.” He carefully put down the guitar to give the small sad child his full attention.

 It really was a disaster. Tim considered his approach whilst ignoring the growing warmth in his chest at the idea that the little who’d joined them not that long ago apparently trusted him enough to ask for help with something personal and left her vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Probably Bertie. Best not think about that then.

 “Okay Sweetness, can you turn around for me so I can get to the brush please?”

 “Ok, thank you Tim,” she pressed a heartfelt kiss to his bearded cheek before turning around obviously utterly convinced that he’d got this and she trusted him implicitly that he’d make this better.

 Fuck he hated Jonny for not being awake.

 Tim, not for the first time since Lily joined them, regretted being an only child with absolutely no sibling experience to deal with situations like this.

 Ah fuck it, he’d do his best.

 Using his enhanced vision, the patience he used when cleaning and repairing his weapons and the comb he kept in his coat pocket but would never admit to, he very carefully, painstakingly, detangled her hair.

 After half an hour he managed to free the brush from her head then proceeded to comb all her locks clear so she would be tangle free for the next five minutes at least. Maybe he’d have to ask Ashes to show Lily how to plait properly since he’d seen Ashes wear some excellent styles over the years.

 He’d never bothered to learn, he liked having long hair, it was something that was his own rebellion after school and whilst he was completing his mechanical engineering apprenticeship. It was easy to tuck it up under a cap after all.

 He’d tried not to show how heartbroken he’d been when he’d been constripted and shorn short again. Bertie had known of course and told him he was still just as handsome. During the time in the tunnels his hair had grown out again since no one was really paying attention to uniform rules in the depths of the war.

 He’d kept it long ever since. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defiance or as tribute to Bertie who’d never been able to keep his fingers out of it when they were alone together.

 Tim mentally shook himself, now was definitely not the time to start down that track. That route led to months locks in the armoury building non-stop. Or murdering Jonny repeatedly. Neither of which were viable responses right now.

 “Right then, I think we’re done, turn around for me Lily.”

 The little girl shuffled around on his lap to face him, she shook her head slightly. “It feels so nice! Thank you!”

 Little arms engulfed him in a grateful hug, enveloping him like the octokitten she masqueraded as half the time.

 “You’re very welcome Sweetness, now, let’s show you how to brush your hair without it getting all tangled up. Sound good?”

 “Yes please! Jonny helps me a lot but he doesn’t know as many tricks.”

 “Jonny doesn’t have as much patience, he’s had longer hair a few times but mostly because he couldn’t be bothered to cut it.”

 “Did he have hair as long as yours?”

 “No. Just to his shoulders.”

 “Oh.” She considered, “Mine’s already nearly that long.”

 “I had noticed.” He couldn’t help grinning.

 “I want to grow mine more.”

 “Oh yes?”

 “Yes! So I can be as pretty as Raphaella and you!”

 Tim felt both the blush and lump rise.

 “That’s, that’s kind of you to say Sweetness, but you’re lovely just as you are. You don’t have to look like anyone else to be better in some way.”

 Lily paused and thought about it.

 “Well, I won’t be exactly like you and Raphaella, my hair’s a different colour.”

 He couldn’t argue with the statement, she was a lot lighter than even Raphaella, “That’s very true.”

 “But I still want it long. I think it’ll be even nicer long.”

 Tim couldn’t help but smiling at that very familiar conviction, “Then I best show you how to look after it then shouldn’t I?”

 Lily beamed, lighting up the way she did whenever any of them took time to show her something. It was why they all, without exception, took time to show her things. They might be immoral, immortal space pirates but none of them were above wanting to feel like a hero for teaching a kid to tie her shoe laces, flip pancakes or make belt holes. “Yes please!”

 Which is why Brian walked in twenty minutes later looking for his fellow chef to find Lily and Tim in the middle of a hair brushing lesson, The child sat on the master-at-arms lap facing him, little tongue poking out in concentration, a long hank of Tim’s glossy tresses held reverentially in Lily’s tiny hand, her other carefully brushing it through as Tim talked her through the method of working in stages, his hands guiding hers, starting at the bottom and slowly working up to the roots.

 “This isn’t what it looks like—” Began Tim, colour rising dramatically in his face.  

 Brian raised an eyebrow.

 “Tim’s teaching me to brush hair properly so my brush doesn’t get all tangled up in my hair again because that hurts!”

 Tim sighed.

 “You know,” commented Brian, attempting to sound innocuous, “that looks exactly like what’s happening.”

 Lily looked puzzled, “That’s because it is.”

 “Quite right too,” Agreed the pilot, “looks like you’re doing a good job.” Brian took closer notice of their youngest crewmember, her usually wild mass of waves looked decidedly neat with that glossy sheen that only came with extensive grooming. “Did Tim do yours earlier?”

 “Yes! He’s really good! I got my brush stuck in my hair and he got it out and brushed it really nicely! I asked him because he has really pretty hair and is good at getting tangles out of it after he wears his goggles. He’s really gentle and clever at it!”

 Brian was amused to watch battle of emotions war over Tim’s face pride, pleasure, embarrassment and fury all crossed his face, clearly annoyed that this moment of softness with Lily was being witnessed.

 Brian found he didn’t care all that much for Tim’s comfort, this was more important. They were bonding over something other than guns, completely unprompted. This was good progress. The fact that Tim was obviously trusted enough by Lily for her to ask his help and that he’d clearly given it freely said at lot how comfortable they were becoming together which wasn’t bad for barely three weeks on board for Lily. Then again, last week her nightmare-stricken visit to his room that night she couldn’t find Jonny had probably cemented him as a ‘safe’ adult she could go to when the first mate wasn’t available.

 Brian hoped the rest of them would become as easy to approach eventually.

 It was nice to be reminded that deep under everything, he and his crew, at a push could remember how to be kind.

 “Right well, I’ll leave you to finish. Would you like me to start breakfast Lily?”

 The child paused looking conflicted.

 “I am more than happy to.” Brian clarified.

 “Oh um, yes please.”

 “Did you have a plan?”

 “Scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes.”

 “Sounds good to me!” Approved Tim, feeling that she shouldn’t feel all that bad about not cooking one meal.

 Brian smile widened, pleased she was deciding to spend more time with Tim, “Me too, right then, I’ll get started, you can join me when you and Tim are done. See you later.” He left the scene as the two continued their lesson.

 “Right then, reckon you can do the rest before Brian finishes?”

 “Yeah!”

 Tim arrived to breakfast on the table, Lily holding his hand, the two looking decidedly neater than normal.

 As the others began to gently tease and pass the pancakes Brian overlooked the group, his family and couldn’t help but beam.

[hamliet]

Girls Don’t Want Boys, Girls Want Monsters: Netflix’s The Witcher Review

Finally, the show we deserve. 

Men get all their superhero power fantasies of kicking villain ass. Finally there’s  a story that has that and includes women’s emotional power fantasies about falling in love with monsters who change. It doesn’t treat either as ridiculous or limited by gender, either, since Geralt falls for a monster too and women get to kick ass as well. 

Essentially, it’s a story about defeating monsters: often through integration with the shadow, sometimes involving love and connection, sometimes violence, but the violence is never glorified. It’s good. 

NB: I’m in the middle of reading the books (in the middle of Blood of Elves so far). I haven’t played the game since video games aren’t really a medium I enjoy. So I’ll make some comparisons since the show covered the two books I’ve read thus far, but please don’t put spoilers for the books below!

Let’s talk my favorite aspect of every story: characters. 

Renfri. 

Her story was somewhat sanitized from the books (it’s a lot more brutal what happened to Renfri) but well adapted. Both versions--the book and show--depict sincere empathy for our deconstructed Snow White. I loved her dialogue with Geralt, in which Geralt praises her for escaping the huntsman her stepmother hired to kill her, and she laughs and says that she didn’t. He let her go, but not before raping and robbing her. The story never directly answers if the prophecy was true or not; Geralt doesn’t believe it, but a lot of things Geralt doubts turn out to be true. Renfri was supposedly attacking animals as a child; however, the person reporting that is highly unlikely to be unbiased (Stregobor) so is this even true? Did Renfri become a killer because she was horribly abused and left with no other option? (That’s the option that I think seems most likely.) 

We can’t know. The Witcher isn’t interested in giving its audience palatable answers. It’s interested in provoking questions. The show gives more answers than do the books, again likely due to the medium, but it still lets these questions linger. 

Renfri’s story is not the first one in the books, but it is the first one the show adapts, and that’s a good decision imo. Her story embodies The Witcher’s themes and questions:

By acting the monster, we make monsters out of others. 

To defeat monsters, you must be a monster. 

What, then, can heal, especially in a world so broken?

Ciri.

Our deconstructed Rapunzel (yes, there are a lot of fairy tale references). As far as her story goes in its adaptation, the addition of Dara was well done. Sadly, no, Dara is not in the books, but his addition gave Ciri an arc beyond merely running in this story. 

That said, Ciri in the books is much younger than she is in the show. Which is okay, because Ciri is somewhat emblematic of the future: there’s a lot unknown about her powers, she needs to be protected from everyone trying to grab her and use her powers for themselves. She is Geralt’s destiny, and she is the future of the world of The Witcher. 

NB: I can’t discuss Ciri without shouting out to the casting director for casting Pavetta: how did they find an actress who looks so much like Ciri’s actress? It’s almost eerie. 

The episode where Geralt finds out about the Law of Surprise and his reaction to Pavetta’s pregnancy is perhaps the only story that I felt was better in the show than in the books (again, this isn’t inherently a quality thing but a medium preference). It added some much-needed hilarity (Geralt’s perfectly-timed “destiny can go f--” *Pavetta vomits* and all he can say is, “fuck”) and gave Geralt an arc. 

Geralt.

Mm. 

I liked how they handled his character and his struggles with what it means to be a Witcher and/or human. His struggles to understand himself are relatable, and fairly well set-up for future exploration. He’s a foil of Ciri, Yennefer, Jaskier, and Cahir so far, and I’m particularly intrigued by the monster theme and the foiling that is already set up thus with all of the above except Jaskier (who is no monster). Geralt was skeptical about saving the striga for her father, but managed to succeed, and I wonder if he will somehow be able to save himself from his own inner fears/monster by being a father. (Basically, I am curious as to how being Ciri’s de factor dad is going to challenge him.)

Jaskier.

Or, Dandelion, as he’s known in the books. The bard adds some much needed levity to the tale, and as @aspoonofsugar​ says, he’s pretty much Donkey from Shrek. But he is used fairly well within the story: he shows Geralt even before Ciri and Yennefer enter his life that he has a purpose beyond being a killing machine. In that sense he’s the foil of Renfri (Renfri accomplishes the same, but through violence) in that Geralt saves him and he clearly thinks highly of the Witcher. Jaskier is in some ways humanity in all its paradoxes and foibles, annoying and stupid, kind and clever, funny and truthful, deceptive and respectful. 

Cahir.

I’m a sucker for ravens as part of an aesthetic, as well as pretty, tormented bad boys. Yes, I know he’s a character I’m sure will arouse much handwringing and puritanical policing a la his other archetype brothers (Loki, Kylo Ren, Snape, etc). I don’t care. I do think the show made him much darker when compared to the books, but I still expect his arc to go in the same direction as the books. He’s a complicated, conflicted, complex character, and I’m not sorry for feeling empathy for him. 

But I am curious about his foiling with Geralt. Both are characters seeking Ciri to fulfill... something, and monstrous in a way (Cahir more for what he does, but there’s a humanity to him as well).

Yennefer.

Finally, my favorite, my baby murder daughter. 

Yennefer’s character was fascinating. I appreciated that she’s allowed to want deeply, her own wants, instead of attaching her wants to be whatever the male character desires. She wants to have children. She wants love. She wants to be beautiful. Her desires are traditionally feminine, and the show doesn’t put this down. And she also kicks ass and takes names, she fails, she’s allowed to be angry, to be mean often, to want to learn and to want to be the best. 

The show doesn’t punish Yennefer for her ambition. Neither do the books. She experiences consequences, both positive and negative, for her every choice. The show reveals her backstory right away, whereas the books don’t, but again that’s a medium thing. I think both do excellently in setting up Yennefer for our empathy. It doesn’t apologize for her or her wants or actions; it lets her arc and the story itself do the talking. 

Yennefer’s not here to be your cautionary tale or your role model. She’s just there to be her and to live. 

That is, to an extent, perhaps the best kind of role model. 

That doesn’t mean the show did everything in Yennefer’s story justice. I wasn’t thrilled with the adaptation of her first meeting with Geralt--the orgy in the background isn’t in the books and is a very bizarre decision given context. While, I loved Tissaia’s character and her foiling with Yennefer: they are too alike to ever get along, I really didn’t understand the point of Tissaia turning the other girls into slugs in episode 2. It was unsettling and not in the books. It was a heavy-handed metaphor not explained until episode 7 (about treating people as expendable slugs) that didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know about how the world and Dark!Hogwarts worked. If anything it made the school seem foolishly cackling-mustache evil instead of the true current of darkness within it: manipulation and utilitarianism. As part of effort to control things, that control itself can lead to chaos. 

I think the rest of the series set this precise dilemma of a precarious balance between self-control and manipulation/utilitarianism quite well, though (it goes hand-in-hand with the theme of a “lesser evil” to quote Renfri’s story). I’m excited to see this explored more. 

Other comments:

When comparing the show to the books as I’ve read so far, I think the show made some smart changes for adapting to a visual medium. For example, Foltest and Adda’s story was adapted as a mystery: what is the monster? Who is the father? Who is the curser? Can the monster be saved? Whereas the book doesn’t do that: you know immediately that the monster is a striga, Foltest is the father, and he wants the striga saved. The answer to who cursed Adda is never clear in the written story either, whereas the show declares it was Ostrit (the book leaves it very much up in the air as to whether it was Ostrit or Adda’s mother). However, the way this particular episode weaves Adda’s story of rebirth with Yennefer’s rebirth was beautifully done. (Foltest is a good dad. We need more good dads in stories; of course, if we had more good dads, we’d have far less stories.) (I’m jesting.) 

The dialogue is at times... well it’s not like it’s The Rise of Skywalker levels of “who wrote this???” but it’s not always stellar. Actually, I’d say the quality tends to swing wildly about between clever (episode 4) and just confusing (episode 5). But in general, I think the dialogue issue is representative of the show’s largest issue: it struggles to know when to trust its audience. When should it give details? When should it trust them? When is it spoonfeeding, and when is it just confusing? It tries to walk a fine line and stumbles a bit. It succeeds, however, with the characters as I mentioned earlier with Yennefer, Geralt, and Ciri. 

My advice for the show going forward (not that they should definitely listen to me) is to forget Game of Thrones. It’s pretty obvious that this show is a passion project made by people who love The Witcher. I really hope they lean into that aspect instead of into the GoT-replacement aspect (because there are definitely aspects of that, particularly in the mood/aesthetic, tone, and gratuitous nudity--which is not exploitative or disturbing, but it also wasn’t necessary, isn’t in the books, and so felt like pandering). 

However, the sheer love for the material still really shines  through. They made me care for the characters, they interested me in the world, and they have me hooked for season 2. The showrunners’ excitement for the story and adoration of its characters is contagious, and I hope the show lets this excitement spread.