#she just exchanged the female pronouns into male ones

[werspinna]

The baker stirs awake, eyes slowly opening. He feels someone in his arms, head turning to his guest. His eyes widened seeing the alchemist, a blush forming on his face. He replays the night in his head as a hand covers his red face. NOt helped by the look on Wolf's face as a bashful chuckle escapes his lips. "Am I blushing? I'm blushing aren't I?"

PROMPTS FOR THE MORNING AFTER !

Back in he convent the morning was never quiet- there were the hasty noise of steps on the corridor from the nun running into the chapel for the morningprayer, there were the busy clattering of pots and dishes from the kitchen when the breakfast was prepared, there were the loud noises of the children who- beside the fact that everyone in the convent was orderd to be silent- were herded like a flock of chattering geese to the refectory for a quick breakfast so they could go to their first lessons as soon as the nuns had finsihed their prayers. Here however the morning was almost quiet, there was Chris breathing changing its quiet tact when he stirred awake and the distant echo of vehicles on the streets that were as tiered as their drivers, yet at this hour of the morining were the light was still grey, almost white, it was so strangely quiet that it had woken Wolf who was so used to the loudness of the convent in the morning that she was suddenly alarmed and alerted, up. Chris reaction and words made her laugh in all good humor and the young woman propped herself up on one elbow. The pale light falling into the room drew soft shadows on the amused smile on her face. Still laughing she took the man bigger hand in her scarred ones, pulled it gently from his face and kissed his knuckles, humming so lightly her breath stroked soft like a veil over his skin: "...Wol mich der stunde, daz ich ihn erkande, diu mir den lîp und den muot hât betwungen. Sît deich die sinne sô gar an ihn wande, der er mich hât mit eein güete verdrungen. Daz ich gescheiden von ihn niht enkan, daz hât ihn schœne und ihn güete gemachet, und ihn rôter munt, der sô lieplîchen lachet." The young woman grey eyes flicked up to Chris, squinting in a smile that was only a little wolfish, only a little impish, only a little sly as she chirped as innocently as she was definitive not: "As the bard sung so nicely- no need to be afraid of blushing red when this is when people are the most beautiful. I for one -" She breathed another kiss on the mans knuckles, this time however looking directly at him and with a knowing smile curling around the scarred corner of her mouth. Gently, softly, tenderly she lead his hand to herself, to her neck, to her bare shoulder, down to one of her breasts: "-am so very nicely bewitched by that pretty colour on your face, not gonna lie, not lying at all. You sure are the most beautiful when you are blushing."

This was the exact moment when the dimensional-traveling-watch that Wolf had put on the dresser beside Chris bed started to beep and blink like an angry firefly and for a second, just a second there was a irritated scowl crumbling Wolfs poxscarred face into a annoyed grimace. Then the second ended, the mask found its way back to her face, and a amused little laughed escaped the young womans mouth as she fell back on her back in the bed, stretching her arms up as if she was a sleepy cat in the sunlight. She reached up, stroking a finger over the mans cheek gently: "Ah, the Multiverse wants me back, it seems. No nice pause for me, no, never a nice pause for me, not at all. It is not the nice way, not at all, not nice really, but would it be okay if you eat your breakfast without me, Muuske?" [ @bewitchingbaker ]

[ataraxiaspainting]

Blue Crow.

Yan Nobunaga x F Reader x Yan Uvogin. (College AU.)

Synopsis: Uvogin hates taking buses, but he enjoys seeing you one seat ahead of him.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con, the reader is described as AFAB and she/her pronouns are used, unhealthy relationships, brief mentions of drug/alcohol usage, victim blaming, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), sexual blackmail, and implied stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

somewhat inspired by the game classmates! check it out here if you'd like. <3

also inspired by @uvobreakmylegs's digging deeper! it's amazing! <3

*~*~*~*

The 5A station was the closest one to your dorm. It had no seats or shelter of any kind in case of bad weather, only a large blue sign that said Yorknew University, Nursing Program in white bold letters – because it didn’t say anything else about the buses that stopped by and because this stop is surrounded by old rotting trees, the drivers sometimes fail to notice you.

It’s raining now, and everything here is so dark – your clothes, your umbrella, the night sky, and your bag.

Your phone says the bus will be here any minute now, but will it even see you?

If not, you’ll have to find a different way to make it to Nobunaga’s place.

He seemed friendly enough. If you were a few minutes late, surely he’d understand. You were not close enough to invite him over, go inside his home, or let him drive you anywhere, though that is just how you are with all males you casually know. It’s nothing personal.

There are two bright lights a small distance away, and at the sight you raise your hand and wave.

By some miracle, the bus stops and opens its automatic doors.

You take a few steps as you close your umbrella and make your way up the stairs, being careful not to slip. You slip a few quarters into the little slot beside the driver and sit down on a seat near the window.

Taking off your hood, you ruffle your wet bangs out of your face, using your reflection to attempt to get them back to looking presentable. It doesn’t really work, but what does it matter? You’re just there to give Nobunaga some notes his friends wanted to give to him and leave. 

*~*~*~*

“You’re [First], correct?” Chrollo asks, putting his right hand out towards you.

You take out your earbuds, fixing your posture as you nod. A blonde man sits next to you on the bench before Chrollo could, smiling and giggling like he is some gossiping schoolgirl.

“Dang, you’re cute!” Shalnark exclaims. 

“Shal, what the hell are you doing?” Uvogin had started to stomp over. His mere size was enough to keep your eyes on him and not the others. Even the one girl who was with them didn’t draw your attention, despite her hair being unnaturally bright pink.

“Saying hi!” Shalnark put an arm around you. On instinct, you squirm a little bit, not noticing how Uvogin rolled his eyes in response to how Shalnark smirked at him. Once you were out of his loose grip, Chrollo politely cleared his throat.

“I was wondering if you could do something for us, Miss [First]. For the gang, I mean.” 

The gang? From what you knew, Chrollo’s group was always causing some sort of rule-breaking but Chrollo himself stayed at the top of the class with superb grades and plenty of attention from girls. It is like no one knew they were connected. They seemed like bad news, but all of your interactions with them had been positive thus far. Did Nobunaga put in the good word for you?

“Um… sure?” As long as it was something that didn’t land you in prison or the hospital, you decide to go along with what Nobunaga’s leader asks of you. It is probably a bad idea to reject, and maybe you’ll get something good out of it in exchange.

“I’d like you to give Nobunaga some notes he missed. He’s been out. Sick, most likely.” You didn’t notice the small piles of books he was carrying until he made them closer to you, wanting you to take them. “Surely you have noticed? He talks to you a lot, I hear.”

“Yeah.” You decide to put them on your lap for the time being. The notes weren’t as heavy as they would have been if you were carrying them. “Is… he doing better?”

“Not sure,” Uvogin says, attempting to pry Shalnark off the bench. “He hasn’t been answering his phone, you see.”

“I don’t wanna!” Shalnark whines.

“Shut up, Shal. You’re gonna make us look bad in front of Nobu’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

“I’m… not his girlfriend…”

They don’t seem to hear you. You’re not exactly the loudest person, after all. You have been teased for having a soft voice and having to speak up. These people wouldn’t ignore you, you think. Shalnark and Uvogin are play fighting, and Chrollo is talking to that magenta-haired woman. They wouldn’t ignore you, you’re just being too shy. They wouldn’t ignore you, they are Nobunaga’s friends. Nobunaga wouldn’t ignore you, why would they?

“I’m… not his girlfriend.”

Uvogin is the only one to give you a response after hearing it. He shoots you a confused look before continuing to tickle Shalnark. No one else seems to notice your words.

After a few more tries, you decide to give up for now. Looking at the notebooks in front of you, you decide to open the top one up. There are just standard mathematical problems as well as some doodles and words of encouragement in the vacant spaces of the looseleaf. 

‘Go get them, tiger!’

‘Don’t die on me now!’

‘Remember one plus one?’

‘♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡’

At first, you think that it is Nobunaga’s girlfriend, but you shake your head to erase it. No. The gang thinks you are his girlfriend. 

Perhaps Shalnark then? From the times you sat near him in your chemistry classes, his handwriting was a mess. It took some effort to realize that he was simply drawing and not paying attention to the professor in the slightest. However, his favorite things to draw were bats and computers. Would he really draw hearts and not those things so Nobunaga could know it was him? 

Maybe it was an inside joke. You’re not going to ask because you don’t want your question to come off as disrespectful, though you were slightly curious.

You’ll just do what you were told and go right back home.

*~*~*~*

Shalnark texted you the address of Nobunaga’s place a few hours ago, but if you were being honest it took a while to decipher what he was saying. In between every five or so memes or videos he sent you there was a number or letter, maybe three at most if you were lucky.

You sat there with your phone in your hands for what felt like forever, not having the guts to ask Shalnark to just tell you straight up – because he wouldn’t, you know that.

From what you managed to gather from your online map, it seemed that Nobunaga’s place and Uvogin’s place were near each other, no more than a fifteen-minute walk at most. If they lived so close to each other, why didn’t one of them just visit the other? That was the third red flag you didn’t say anything about… and came to regret only half an hour later.

The electric sign attached to the entrance of the bus flickered from time to time with varying degrees of brightness. One person complained openly to the driver that the screen was so dark they did not know that they had missed their dormitory’s building. He didn’t care, only shrugging his shoulders and telling the student that ‘that’s life’. They got off murmuring curses you could hear from the middle part of the bus. Once again, he didn’t care. Like Shalnark, the driver wouldn’t take anything you say seriously; so you just used your online map to count the stops ahead.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Aster Road, Thirds Street.” The automated message from the bus speakers loudly said, glitching a little after the word ‘Road’.

“Hey.” 

You failed to notice who was behind you as you were too busy counting the stops ahead on your phone.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Ritas Street, Wilds Complex.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Neo Road, Neon Green.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Romeos Road, Kiki Terrace.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop-”

You failed to hear the name of the stop because the hand that tapped your shoulder startled you and made you turn your neck around to the seat behind you.

You see a familiar face despite the fading light – or should you say, a familiar body.

“O-Oh… hi… Uvogin.”

Satisfied you had finally noticed him, Uvogin puts his hands behind his head as he smirks. 

“Fancy seeing you so late,” he begins, looking down at your black bag. “Going to Nobu’s place, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah… you?”

“Basketball.”

Was Uvogin on the team too? If you remember correctly it was only Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga who were on it. Perhaps he just wanted to watch? Oh well. It’s not any of your business.

After remembering your last conversation with him yesterday, you decide to ask him why everyone thinks you are Nobunaga’s girlfriend – you only talked to him when necessary, in the classes you shared with him, but to be fair he also escorted you around the building most days.

“Listen… about that time…”

“What?” Uvogin turns his head, cupping his ear with his hand. “Speak up.”

“About Nobunaga and me…” You look down – at the books, at your cold wet hands, at the heels of your feet bouncing up and down. Your gut tells you that you’re making a mistake if you talk to him about you and Nobunaga’s relationship, or lack thereof. Your brain goes against it, saying that clearing things up will lead to less trouble down the line. 

Your heart is beating too fast to accept or reject the possibility. 

“Nobunaga and me…”

“You’re still talking too low,” Uvogin interrupts, his stare near-lethal to you. When you flinch at his words, his annoyance seems to disappear. “Hey, you can tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yeah. Yeah, you’re friends or at least acquaintances. Saying the truth won’t hurt him and won’t hurt you. Maybe Shalnark’s teasing will go away. Maybe Chrollo won’t give you a task again. Maybe Nobunaga won’t be confused when he comes back to school.

“Nobunaga and me… aren’t dating-”

Uvogin’s expression changing wasn’t as fast as before, but his glare intensified as he stood up.

“Next stop: Nightstar Avenue, Owl’s Place.”

Your ears felt numb after you heard the ‘beep’ sound of someone pressing the stop button. Your eyes felt numb as you tried to see the details of Uvogin’s scowl in the dark.

It was Uvogin. He made the bus stop. But why?

It then hits you; this is the closest stop to Nobunaga’s place.

“Stop requested.” The speaker stated. The bus started to pull over next to a tall blue sign.

“Woah, the bus got here so quickly,” Uvogin says, going to the exit doors. When he didn’t hear you stand up too, he turned in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the directions to your boyfriend’s house?”

“Please exit through the rear door.” Another automated message. Uvogin presses on the door and it lets him out. After a few more seconds you follow him – your gut tells you that you must.

He helps you down with his much larger hands despite you not really needing it – there are handrails on the doors for that.

“What were you saying?” Uvogin asks. “Something about Nobunaga?”

There is a lit street lamp above the sign. It doesn’t flash like the ones near your dormitory and is much brighter. Despite the weather still being stormy, you can see houses a small distance away – not just the street. 

You can see that Uvogin is smiling again.

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” He sneers, his smirk getting even bigger. “You didn’t want relationship advice?”

“No…” You reply, your hands going to your backpack’s zipper to make sure the notes don’t get too wet.

“Nobunaga likes mochi. Maybe you can get some for him next time. Daifuku especially. He’d be so happy, maybe he’ll stop skipping class with me.” 

A sigh comes out of both of you at the same time for much different reasons. 

“But I don’t want that to happen… hmm.”

*~*~*~*

The outside of Nobunaga’s house wasn’t the house that stood out the most in this neighborhood. It had rather small walls that had peeling white paint in places closer to the ground, and cigarettes and used needles were thrown all over his dead lawn. The only thing you somewhat liked was the rusty gold sign beside the front door that read 251 – and only for the styling of the numbers.

“Here’s the place,” Uvogin says, patting your back as a way to gently push you forward. “Go on, doorbell's right there.”

You were forced up the steps with a force you knew was gentle for Uvogin but not for you. A trembling finger approaches the button slowly – as if using it would make you lose it via a guillotine’s blade.

Doing so didn’t because this is reality, but the pain in your heart feels similar to such a fate anyway. After a few more seconds and the door still being closed, Uvogin knocks loudly.

“[First]’s here!” His yell almost made you cry.

Your name may as well have been the password because Nobunaga opens the door right away. He pants a little like he was running to greet you two.

“Oh fuck, you made it! I thought the storm woulda scared you away.”

Nobunaga didn’t look very sick; he wasn’t wearing a shirt, had his hair down, and only his boxers covered his lower half. He didn’t look very sick; he actually looked quite well. Those signs scared you more than Uvogin’s subtle threat – if his glaring was intended to be such, that is. You don’t step past the doorway, leaving Uvogin to stand in the rain as you take off your backpack. But when you try to undo the zipper, you feel both of their hands touching you up and down as their grins widen.

“Stop that,” You murmur, attempting to step back. Your spine was greeted by Uvogin’s front half. You feel something pressing into you. Once you figured out what it was, you started to go under one of Uvogin’s arms. His leg caged you in then.

“She’s cute, Nobu.”

Nobunaga doesn’t answer in words – he only chuckles and continues to have his hands resting on your hips.

“Listen. Your notes are here, Hazama.” You say, making an effort to still be nice, to still be understanding. You don’t want to scream because what if you’re misreading something? You don’t want anyone to… be framed for something they didn’t do, right?

“It’s Nobunaga.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Nobunaga,” You’re pushed and pulled more. Before you can blink, you’re thrown on the couch’s back. Uvogin is the one who lets go of you and the one who locks the front door, Nobunaga is too busy feeling the back of your thighs. “I’m your boyfriend – it’s normal to call each other by our first names, right?”

Boyfriend?

Was… Was he…

Was he the one who told his gang you’re dating?

“I missed you, baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and pecking your neck. 

He doesn’t seem to note how you’re trembling now.

“Stop.” 

Uvogin simply gets closer. He doesn’t touch you, but he crosses his arms smirking as he leans against the sofa’s frame.

“Stop,” You repeat, trying to push Nobunaga harder off of you.

It’s not an order either of them recognize, so Uvogin continues to stare and Nobunaga continues to kiss your body.

“Stop!” Your tone makes Uvogin slightly shift. He frowns and his arms uncross. 

He takes a few steps towards you. 

“Nobunaga.” Uvogin’s voice is cold now, like how it was when you were about to get off the bus. You freeze. Nobunaga doesn’t stop – he doesn’t even look at Uvogin. “Nobunaga.”

“Stop, Haz-”

“Watch it.” Uvogin glares at you. “It’s ‘Nobunaga’ for you.”

He’s not… He’s not going to help you?

“Yeah.” Nobunaga agrees, pulling you further into his embrace.

“Let go of me!” You snap and push harder than you did before – and manage to finally ply him off of you.

Nobunaga stares down at you. He is now still. He doesn’t blink. His smile has slightly faded, but it is still there. There are subtle movements in his hands. His fingers are curled up. They want to grab something again.

They want to grab you.

“Don’t joke around like that, princess,” Nobunaga finally says, taking a few steps too close to you. “Not many guys are willing to forgive their girl for pushing them away like that. You almost screamed my ears off.”

“I’m not joking!”

“You are.” Uvogin interrupts, stomping his feet. “You are and I am starting to get annoyed. What about you, Nobu?”

“I’m just here to give notes Lucilfer told me to give to Hazama! I’m not here for anything else.”

Nobunaga’s gaze lingers on your backpack for a few silent moments after you say that. “Really… nothing else?” 

“No, she’s here to cheer you up, Nobu,” Uvogin says, attempting to give a warm smile to his best friend. “She’s… just shy.”

The glare he gives you when Nobunaga’s eyes aren’t on him makes you feel like you are about to see God.

“...Right, [First]?”

You don’t respond right away, but Nobunaga does. He giddily smiles like a child on Christmas morning.

“Oh, you!”

He hugs you – his skin feels akin to slime and his hair clings onto your neck in little bunches. You feel unbrushed knots and his heart beating fast with adrenaline. When your own heart mimics the motion, Nobunaga thinks you are simply being shy – Uvogin had once again fed his delusions.

“She brought you the notes you missed. Even wrote a few cute lines in the blank spots.” Uvogin smirks as you look at him in horror. “She wanted me to come with her. Was anxious about missing your bus stop, sweet thing.”

He walks over to your backpack and grips onto the zipper. You attempt to stop him, walking a bit forward and trying to raise your hand, but Nobunaga’s grip is too strong. Within only a few seconds, the stack of notebooks Chrollo had given you is in Uvogin’s hands. He opens a page and starts reading aloud the cute notes someone else had written.

“Go get them, tiger.” 

He turns to another page. 

“Don’t die on me now.”

Then another.

“Remember one plus one?”

Then another.

“A whole bunch of hearts here…”

He then turns to a section you hadn’t looked at before – the back page.

“With lots of love, your one and only girlfriend [First].”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

Did his gang set you up?

…They did. They did.

This is bad. So very bad.

“I never-”

“Stop being so shy with your boyfriend, [First].”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Nobunaga asks, slightly frowning as you protest.

You have to get out of here – fast. If you distract them enough, maybe you’ll be able to make it outside. But they’re faster than you, just better overall when it comes to physicality-

Uvogin’s hand rests on your shoulder, silencing any thoughts or ideas he does not approve of.

“I know what she wants.”

“Huh?” You and Nobunaga ask simultaneously with two distinctly different tones.

It then dawns on both of you what he means – because his shirt is tossed on the couch before you can even take a step toward the front door.

“I know what she wants.” Uvogin repeats.

He wants nothing more than to put you on your knees as he unzips his pants and as Nobunaga keeps you down. He wants nothing more than for Nobunaga afterward to have a turn – or he could go first if he wishes. One of his fingers and one of Nobunaga’s own will be forced into you after your own clothes are discarded. Two tongues will slather all over your pussy like thirsty dogs – and after a few pictures are taken you’ll stay the night with Nobunaga while he makes his way to tell Chrollo that his idea was a success.

“I really couldn’t have done it without you, boss.”

-You try to scream and Nobunaga’s hand muffles your mouth’s cries.

“Don’t go being such a brat,” Uvogin continues, “When all you really want are two bodies to love on you.”

Your arms are grabbed and you are dragged up the stairs.

In a last attempt to get out of here, your legs spread out on the stairs and kick around at Nobunaga – but the fight is short-lived because they thump so roughly with each wooden step and it hurts; Nobunaga makes a note to finally get rid of any rotten oak once you leave.

The bedroom isn’t as spacious as Uvogin had hoped. Clothes were scattered all over the place already; most Nobunaga’s but others were clearly from past flings or some of yours that he had managed to steal. Your dorm was nicer despite it being the same size as the bedroom and your bed being even smaller. But at least yours had a frame and covers.

Maybe later Uvogin will stop by to see you crying yourself to sleep and to take some trophies.

Your white panties were a favorite of his, but Uvogin wouldn’t mind a little bit of change in his collection. A few bras perhaps or a few black thongs. He hopes for whole lingerie sets, but he knows it will only happen if he is lucky that particular evening.

Uvogin sits on the bed first. He thinks about pulling on your hair to make you sit on the dirty floor, but he dismisses the idea. That would be hurting you more than he has to and Nobunaga would be upset at him inevitably having long strands on his palm.

“Hey Nobu,” He says, unzipping his pants and boxers as he quickly tugs them both down to his ankles. “Make sure she’s comfy as we do this, okay?”

It took a while for you to stop crying after that. It took a while for you to do a lot of things Uvogin and Nobunaga wanted you to do. It took a while for you to take just the tip of Uvogin’s penis. Nobunaga had told Uvogin to take it slow when you had finally clamped your lips around him.

“It’s her first time, Uvo – be gentle, okay?”

Uvogin almost laughed at the irony he managed to leave unsaid.

He didn’t want Nobunaga to get upset with all the information he had attained while stalking you for months. You were supposed to just be his little secret he pinned down once in a while, but then Nobunaga just so happened to share a few classes with you.

He fell for you too. Uvogin had never felt any negative emotion for Nobunaga ever over their years-long friendship, but the slight tinge of envy he possessed the moment he found out could almost count.

Oh well, he thinks. I still have pictures of you that he does not. Pictures I would rather not have him see and you probably don’t either.

Just for future reference in case you acted up too much, though Uvogin could always take the more physical route.

Though once again he remembers that Nobunaga is in the picture now. Though their bond is as strong as forged steel, he knows that his friend has always been a bit too controlling when it comes to what he has and loves.

Whether that be simple instant ramen or expensive bottles of brandy, Nobunaga has always had a habit of stowing his possessions away where no one can even look at them.

Uvogin understands although Nobunaga had said nothing about you being something to own. Uvogin understands because he sees how he looks at you.

It’s not disgust he feels. It’s something much less potent, but he cannot put his finger on the exact word. Machi had described it perfectly once when they were all in their mid-teenage years.

He doesn’t bother to remember right now.

You are more important.

You look prettier than he had ever seen you – precum is leaking a little from your lips as little noises come out of them too.

Please. Please.

Please.

You’re not in tears right now.

Uvogin is glad. You in makeup is nice to look at, but he knows that since it is absolutely pouring outside you didn’t want to put some on. Either for that reason or because you knew that Nobunaga was just a friend, despite what Nobunaga in return has told the Troupe. It’s cute, really.

Maybe later he can pull this when he inevitably breaks into your dorm or even in a study room in the university’s library. You’ll have makeup on when you feel like it or when he forces you to. He can ask Pakunoda about how to apply mascara and stuff. She’ll teach him. As a bonus, she won’t tease him like Shalnark does daily.

Thinking more about the idea, Uvogin makes the mistake of letting go of your face.

You cough louder than he had expected. Your spit is now all over the wooden floor Nobunaga has to clean up later. The floors are water resistant. But not waterproof. Uvogin has to remember that there is in fact a difference. Hopefully, it won’t stain and rot like the stairs did, but if it does Uvogin wouldn’t mind paying for the damages.

He wouldn’t mind paying you to keep silent about this too – or he’ll make the cops silent if it came down to it.

“Oh,” Nobunaga rubs your arched back as you squirm and saliva runs down from your clearly sore jaw. He sounds disappointed, but trying not to let it show. It’s not successful. Every person Nobunaga has ever crossed can read him like a book, not that Nobunaga knows about it. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t want to admit it. “You spat it all up. Didn’t wanna swallow it?”

You don’t respond. Uvogin is getting used to that by now. Not Nobunaga though.

“Shh… it’s okay.” Nobunaga senses your distress but thinks it is just shyness. Uvogin is getting used to that too. “It’s okay… you did such a great job.”

“Home,” You choke out. “Please… let me go home now…”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Nobunaga asks, turning his head a little. “We’re not done here.”

“Please… Please, I-”

“Shh.” Uvogin interrupts. Now it is his turn to play the good guy here. “Nobu still hasn’t had his turn, remember? Thankfully he won’t use your mouth.”

A blend of hope and fright is in your gaze. Uvogin didn’t have to get used to that one. He has seen it too many times with all sorts of people. Chrollo loves that look. Feitan loves it too. Maybe their partners’ eyes are like that as well. A ginger-haired girl avoids Chrollo like the plague and Uvogin hasn’t seen that look particularly on her. Apparently, she does in fact beg him for things. With how prideful she acts, Uvogin would pay money to see that.

“He’ll use his,” Uvogin says. He stands up, zipping his pants back to how they used to be. There are a few white stains here and there, but nothing the laundromat wouldn’t fix. “Then you can go home. Okay, princess?”

You’ll get used to this, Uvogin thought to himself. Everyone gets used to things. Even death.

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1- The Age of Chivalry

Summary: You're reassigned to Easy Company when one of their medics was injured pre D-Day. You expect some sass from the Company since you'll be the only female soldier in 100 miles but never expected for any of them to befriend you.

Author Note: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Pre D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/N, L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Story takes place Episode 1- Currahee

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

October 1943

It was never a good idea to mix a single female with a Company of deprived men in the Army...but here you are. You found out you were assigned to Easy Company 2nd Battalion 101st Airborne Division in Fall 1943 when they lost one of their medics to an injury. Although you trained separately from the males at Toccoa in the Divisional medical unit and were one of very few females allowed to work alongside men, you got along quite well with most of the guys. You held your own never asking for special treatment or never played the ‘damsel in distress’ card, so Easy Company learned rather quickly that you can keep up.  

~~~~~~~

You remember the day you arrived at Aldbourne, England to make contact with the boys of Easy Company. With your reassignment order in hand, you approach a group of soldiers sitting at a picnic bench outside a building. All of them looking a bit rough, but nonetheless smoking and joking with eachother. They take a pause as they notice you approaching them. Some of them sizing you up and down as you carry your duffel full of medical supplies and wearing fatigues that have yet to see the battlefields like theirs have.  

“Hey, you lost there, lady?” Private Roy Cobb called out to you, sizing you up again as you continued to walk towards them without faltering. 

You shoot the mouthy Private a look of disdain before responding. 

“I’m looking for Corporal Roe. I was told to make contact with him as soon I arrived.” You speak to the group as a whole. 

They all exchanged looks and a few whispers. 

Corporal George Luz stood up. 

“Why, I’m Eugene Roe. But around here they call me, ‘Doc.’” He declared confidently with a cocky grin. 

The others started to snicker. One laid a heavy pat on his shoulder showing his appreciation of the joke. 

You rolled your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. 

Sergeant Denver Randleman stood from the bench, then walked towards you pushing Luz aside shaking his head as he passed him. He was a larger man. Like a bear. Never removing the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke to you.  

“He’s across the way this way, I’ll take ya to him.” He said, motioning you along in the opposite direction. 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” You reply. 

“No problem. And it’s just ‘Bull,’ ma’am.” He said politely in his thick Southern accent as he passed you leading the way.  

You turn on your heel and proceed to follow Bull, ignoring the distant whistles you heard from some of the men you just met behind you. 

~~~~~~~

“I hope the guys haven’t given you too much trouble so far?” stated the actual Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe when you crossed into the designated aid station. 

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Doc.” You say with conviction.  

Bull chuckled, finding your response amusing. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Doc replied before continuing. 

“Well, let’s get you in processed here, and squared away. Thanks for bringing her here, Bull. I’m sure those other idiots would’ve just sent her to their barracks.” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

Bull nodded with a small wave.  

“See you at chow, L/N.” Bull called back to you before he left. 

When Bull returned to where the others were still gathered, they bombarded him with questions. 

“Did you catch her name??” Sergeant (Sgt) Don Malarkey prodded. 

“-is she coming to Easy Company??” Sgt Bill Guarnere interrupted before Bull could answer. 

“-did she say anything about me?” Luz questioned. 

As the interrogation got heavier, he threw his hands up and removed the cigar from his mouth. 

“GUYS!! Take it easy, will ya? You’ll see her later at chow, just don’t attack her with all of these questions right away, k? We don’t want to scare her off now, do we?” He explained as he replaced his cigar and walked away.  

They all swapped looks of excitement.  

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to have me a shower before dinner this evening.” Corporal Joe Liebgott stated while flicking his cigarette butt, rising from the picnic bench, shouldering his rifle. 

“Ok, Liebgott, like you have a shot.” Malarkey teased. 

Liebgott turned to him. 

“Oh contrare, I feel you underestimate me, Don.” He shot back at Malarkey while walking backwards, then turning back around. 

The group scoffed at him collectively. 

~~~~~~~

You got to chow early before any of the other men started to show up. You tucked yourself way in the back at a long table in the corner. You made sure to keep your head down, hanging over a tray trying to swallow some of the Army’s finest slop.  

“Should’ve just stuck to a dinner roll with margarine.” You whispered to yourself as you grimaced from the last mouthful of mystery meat from your plate. 

“Not exactly a high-end dish from The Ritz, now, is it?” Sgt Carwood Lipton joked as he sat down across from you with his own serving of slop. 

“Yeah, not quite.” You respond while poking at a hard, clay-like mound on your plate that was supposed to be mashed potatoes. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Bull stated as he sat next to you with his tray. 

You ‘psh-ed’ at Bull’s statement. 

“I highly doubt that. But I’ll make do.” You convinced yourself. “Surprisingly not the worst food I’ve had.” You added. 

“Really, there’s something out there worse than this?” Lipton asked astonished as he stirred his cold soup that looked like ketchup and water. 

“Oh yeah! Pixley and Ehler’s Diner on Clark Street in Chicago has some questionable selections.” You explained. 

“Is that where you’re from?” Corporal Frank Perconte queried as he sat next to Lipton. 

“I am.” You replied with pride. 

“You Italian then?” Guarnere asked, inviting himself to the conversation, sitting next to Perconte. 

“Italian and Irish.” You clarified. 

“Ssshh, a goddam Mick-Deigo.” Guarnere sneered crinkling his nose in disgust. 

“Leave’er alone, Gonorrhea.” Liebgott interjected sitting next to Bull. 

“I’m guessing you're Italian?” You directed at Guarnere. 

“Sicilian, actually.” He retorted. 

“Hm, you know that Sicilians aren’t real Italians, right? Sicily is just like Australia. All the criminals of Britain were shipped there to be ostracized from the mainland. Sicily is just an island of Italy’s delinquents.” You taunted. 

The others “ooooo-ed” in unison. Even Perconte who was the other Italian of Easy company. 

“She got you there, Guarnere.” Bull teased. 

Everyone laughed. Except Guarnere. 

“You think you’re funny?” Guarnere challenged. 

You sighed and looked at him deadpan in the face without an ounce of fear to show. 

“Come on, Guarnere, she was only dishing out what you gave her.” Perconte defended. 

“Shut your trap, Perconte, you should be on my side!” he said slamming a fist onto the surface of the table then pointing at him.  

The rest of the table filled up with remaining members of Easy Company that could fit that wanted to see the fight unfold. 

You folded your arms in front of you on top of the table and leaned forward, making sure you got Guarnere’s attention, then spoke with distinct fire in your voice. 

“You think I’m some dame just showing up here straight out of basic training not knowing how to handle myself with soldiers? I’ve been whistled at, barked at, howled at, catcalled, pinched, ass slapped, and manhandled by the worst of them, pal. You labeling me because of my heritage ain’t gonna do shit to me. But I’ll be damned you disrespect me like I haven’t earned the right to be respected. Just remember, I’m the one that’s going to be tending to you if you get shot in the field, sergeant.”  

You glare at him, then rise harshly from your seat, leaving the rest of the table in a state of awe and shock. 

“Good job, Gonorrhea. You pissed her off now.” Liebgott pointed out with an audible tsk. 

“Fuck her.” Guarnere spit back. 

~~~~~~~

As soon as you left the chow hall, you found a spot out of sight to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. You leaned against a post looking up towards the night sky taking deep controlled breaths. 

“Corporal L/N?” You’re startled by the voice of Lieutenant (LT) Richard Winters. You snap to attention ready to render a salute, but he waves you down. 

“As you were. Are you alright?” He asked as you relaxed your stance. 

“Yessir, just getting some fresh air.” You reassured. 

He looked at you with skepticism, not believing you were telling him the entire truth.  

You continued. 

“A room full of men who haven’t showered in a few days can make a gal lightheaded.” You joked. 

The corner of LT Winters’ mouth started to curl into a slight grin, trying his best not to laugh outloud at your quick wit. 

“I see, L/N. Well rest up, we’ll need you to be ready when we move out for the next mission.” He explained. 

“Yes, sir. Have a good night.” You replied. 

Winters gave a nod and entered the chow hall. 

LT Winters bee lined for his company’s table. His men all greeted him cheerfully as he approached the table. 

“Lieutenant, got a seat open right here.” Bull called out, gesturing to your vacant spot. 

“No thanks, Bull, I’ve eaten already.” Winters responded. He paused before he continued. 

“Just ran into Corporal L/N on the way in-” He paused again to assess the men’s reaction. 

Some continued eating, pretending like they hadn’t really heard. Lipton, Bull and Liebgott looked up at Winters waiting for him to continue. 

“She seemed somewhat troubled.” Winters finished. He waited for anyone to speak up, looking at the group expectantly. 

“Maybe her panties got all up in a twist, sir.” Guarnere offered up sarcastically. 

Some of the men chortled in response. 

Winters, Bull, Lipton, and Liebgott weren’t amused. 

“Well, she only said a room full of foul-smelling males made her dizzy and she needed fresh air.” Winters relayed, while looking at Guarnere suspiciously. 

The men all started to smell their armpits self-consciously. 

“Corporal Liebgott.” Winters called out. 

“Sir?”

“Get out there and escort L/N to her tent.” Winters instructed. 

“Yes, sir.” Liebgott acknowledged. 

“L/N will not walk around alone at night, gentlemen. I don’t care who goes with her, but make sure she always has a battle buddy in the hours of darkness. Tracking?” Winters asked, raising his voice authoritatively. 

The table responded “yes, sir” simultaneously. 

Liebgott rushed out excitedly and hustled down the street to catch you before you got too far. 

~~~~~~~

You were aways a bit ahead before Liebgott found you. 

“Hey, L/N! Wait up!” He called after you. 

You turned around looking for the voice calling your name. 

You stopped walking, waiting for Liebgott trotting over to catch up to you. 

“Can I help you?” You asked with a little more harshness in your voice than you intended. 

“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you. I have the honor of accompanying you to your barracks.” He responded with enthusiasm and a smile. 

You were taken aback. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh?” You questioned before continuing. “That’s quite unexpectedly chivalrous of you.” 

“Well, you have Winters to thank for that, it was his idea.” He responded quite bluntly. 

You rolled your eyes.  

“Hm, I see.” You reply briskly.  

Liebgott realized he sounded like an asshole right then. 

“Of course, if you approve, I’ll appoint myself your permanent battle buddy from now on.” He extended with his signature smirk as you resumed walking together. 

You felt your face heat up. You averted your eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t see you blush. But Joseph Liebgott doesn’t miss a thing. He grinned wider. 

“If those are the LT’s orders, then have at it, Liebgott.” You replied coldly. 

“Nah, that last part was my idea.” He stated proudly. 

You shot him a confused expression, then he winked at you. 

You laughed nervously, looking away quickly to break the awkwardness you felt in the pit of your stomach. 

He smiled at you affectionately.

“And call me Joe.” He added.

“Y/N.” You reply looking up at him through your lashes.

“Look, sorry if I’m making it weird. And don’t listen to Gonorrhea. He’s just a jackass with a height deficiency. The kid always has some stupid shit to say.” He explained. 

You nod trying to suppress a giggle. 

“This is me.” You announce as you approach the entrance to your sleeping quarters. You turn to face Joe. “Thank you for the chat, and the company, Liebgott…I mean Joe.” You say dotingly. 

“Forget it. So?” He asked. 

You were genuinely confused. 

“Sooo?” You reply. 

“Am I your permanent evening escort?” he asked with a grin and a wink. 

This time you laugh outwardly at his attempt at a flirty sexual inuendo. 

“If by ‘evening escort’ you mean my nightly walk to and from one location to another, I’d have to say....I’ll think about it.” You respond flirtatiously with a wink in return. 

His face lit up. 

“Well alright then. We’ll take another test run tomorrow night.” He proposed. 

You shook your head smiling, astounded by the level of confidence this man had. 

“Good night, Joe.” You finalized as you disappear beyond the threshold of the tent entrance. 

~~~~~~~

[gojo-mochi]

Softy my dear! Please, I give you this star 🌠 in exchange for kissing Toji under the missile toad. Thank you for the surprise request opening & I hope you're having a wonderful holiday!

[She / Her are my pronouns 🩶]

Happy new year!!!! sorry it kinda late waHHH!

Idk why it got so….like that at the end … blame toji

You were snuggled neatly on Toji’s lap, head tucked under his chin, as he flicked through various TV channels. To your surprise, he lands on one of those cheesy Hallmark movies. He settles on the couch, pulling you back with him. An arm snugly wrapped around your waist, fingers softly tracing patterns on your hip, sometimes sneaking a thumb in your waistband and feeling the plush skin there. You thought this was like a ‘Netflix and Chill’ kind of excuse where you put on a shitty movie and pretend to pay attention. But somehow, Toji’s attention was fixated on the movie.

It was the normal storyline: a big city woman goes back home to her small country town and meets a local there. They butt heads but soon are forced to fight together against the big bad evil corpo that is threatening to ruin Christmas for the small town. Then, in the end, they fall in love, and the woman leaves the city to be with the small town guy. You were only a quarter through the movie, but every plot point was playing out like you expected. “Are you secretly a romantic or something, Toji?” You teased lightly, stealing some of the popcorn from the bowl and munching on it. Toji snorts, “I just like making fun of them; look at how stupid everyone is. Especially the female lead; I mean, she’s leaving a rich lifestyle for some country town snob.” Now, you really didn’t expect Toji to be that invested in this plot. He rolls his eyes as the male lead accidentally bumps into the female lead, causing them to topple on top of each other, looking longingly into each other's eyes.

Toji makes snide comments here and there, his hand fully making its way under your shirt at the halfway point of the movie, just keeping it there for warmth. You eventually settled in, enjoying your boyfriend’s warmth, the cheesy movie, and stealing most of the popcorn from under his nose. Toji’s hand goes to the popcorn bowl only to find it empty, and he turns to you with a small frown. “What happened to all the popcorn?” You shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Maybe the ghost of Christmas’s past got to it?” Toji narrows his eyes at you, grabbing your salt-covered hand and sticking your fingers in his mouth. "Hmm, you taste like a liar and a thief to me.” 

He purposely drools on your hand, his grip iron tight on your wrist, not letting you escape. “Ew! Toji! Stop that.” He only chuckles cruelly in response, pulling you in towards his chest and tickling your sides. You squirm and wiggle in his grasp, trying to escape, only to be pushed down on the couch with Toji on top. His hands are still glued to your sides, and fits of giggles bubble from your lips. Then both your attentions get torn back to the TV as the climax of the movie is reached and a loud and cheerful Christmas song is played as the two main leads are seen going for a kiss under a mistletoe.

Toji snorts, but an idea pops into his head as he watches the scene. He squishes your cheeks in his massive palm, making you pucker your lips together. “This is a fitting punishment for a thief like you." He leans in, his whole tongue sticking out as he licks your lips messily, chuckling at your whining and squirming. Shushing you with a proper kiss this time, his lips searing themselves to yours, his tongue coming out again to poke and prod its way into your awaiting mouth. Tasting the salt from the popcorn and some sweetness from the hot cocoa you were sipping on. He pulls away, leaving your face and lips a mess. Slick and shiny with his drool and spit all over your chin. He coos at you as he wipes away at your face, coating his hand in his own drool. 

“I think we can still use this somewhere else..”

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 1

Takes place in between 3A & 3B of Teen Wolf

Teen Wolf Masterlist | part 2

Characters & Pairings: Hale/McCall Pack x supernatural!reader (female/platonic), eventual Peter Hale x reader (romantic), reader x male!oc ( past romance) & reader x supernatural!reader (platonic). Characters in this imagine: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Peter Hale.

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, references of historical event disaster, mentions of death, blood, murder | afab!reader (she/her pronouns) | wc: 3.1k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Suspicious deaths were a common occurrence in Beacon Hills—especially after things seem to be actually looking good when a previous problem is fixed. Now Scott and the pack are having to investigate a string of murders happening that not only reek of supernatural, but linked to an renowned event they’ve learned in history class.

Note: I’m hyperfixating on Titanic as of late so I have a lot of ideas involving AU’s and retelling with various fandoms. I just did a TGM au with Bradley Bradshaw and currently have a Twilight one in the works so expect a lot of Titanic in my works when I’m not writing requests.

————————————

Riddles were a tricky little thing. And when used in a malevolent way where to find the answer to a solution one must crack the code, riddles can become a person’s worst enemy.

And the one laying on the table of Derek’s loft was becoming their enemy.

Murders, which was becoming a common occurrence lately in Beacon Hills, were happening where the people were nearly drained of their blood by cutting their throats and wrists before letting them hang upside down. Stiles' father was overwhelmed with stress. Not to mention he was having to come to terms with the reality his town was a beating heart for supernatural creatures. Like how his sons best friend since childhood was a fucking werewolf.

And while it was presumed a human serial killer was responsible for the murders, the pack had an inkling it was more sinister. Investigating on their own they found more suspicious reasons to believe it was supernatural.

Only problem, they had no clue who or what it was.

They were all gathered over the table—save for Peter who was nestled on the couch. Stiles was rubbing a thumb over his lip, becoming frustrated as he was usually on top of solving riddles. Lydia was beside him, deep in thought as she read over the paper silently.

“He just left this here?” Scott glanced at Derek, who was standing with his arms crossed on the opposite side of the table.

“Right outside the door. Like he wanted us to find it.”

“And you heard nothing?” Stiles’ question earned him a glare. “Super hearing and you didn’t hear someone stabbing a piece of paper into your front door?”

“If I did you think I would’ve let him leave the damn note?” Derek spoke harshly.

“Riddle.”

“—knowing all it is is a distraction so he can kill more people.”

“It’s not just a distraction,” Allison interrupted the two bickering, staring hard at the note. “It’s an order. He’s asking us to find someone.”

“Yeah,” Isaac scoffed, “who we have no idea is.”

“Read it again,” Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. With a huff, Stiles took the paper in his hands, clearing his throat before reading aloud for all to hear.

Have you figured it out yet?

Were my clues not enough?

You’re thinking too hard now,

Let me show you it’s not so tough.

Our faces the same,

As they were the day we changed.

Only the eyes no longer its color,

A price for the exchange.

You’ll find it almost disheartening,

When you learn of what we do.

Our nature is uncanny,

But it’s not so far from you.

Find the one I’m looking for,

And I’ll stop the chaos and the pain.

Are you ready?

Here’s your hint.

Time is of the essence,

So you better make it quick.

Wearing the Heart of the Ocean,

She’s closer than it seems.

For I seek the one I turned,

Who was on the Ship of Dreams.

Silence fills the loft, everyone thinking hard of what it could mean. There were so many clues but so vague it was difficult to puzzle them together.

“Well we know it’s someone supernatural,” Isaac hummed, attempting to lighten the situation.

“Yeah we got that genius,” Peter muttered.

“And he’s looking for a woman,” Allison added, ignoring Peter’s sarcasm. “Someone he turned. And was on a ship?” It comes out more like a question, “that could mean a lot of things.”

“Could it be a werewolf?” Scott turned to Derek

The man shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

“But the thing about the eyes—.”

“Many shapeshifters' eyes are like ours. That doesn’t mean it’s a wolf. Plus he said they’re not wolves.”

“How do you know?”

Derek rolls his eyes as though it were obvious, “he wrote, ‘our nature is uncanny, but it’s not so far from you,’. If they were wolves he would’ve said so.”

“Maybe another Kanima?” Allison suggested, “the master looking for his puppet?”

Stiles cuts in, narrowing his eyes on the last verse, “Why would he bold the first and last line of the last clue—these ones,” he places the paper flat on the table. Lydia, the closest to him, leans in as his finger points to the verse. “Heart of the Ocean and the—.”

“Ship of Dreams,” she finishes, voice going low as realization hits her. All eyes turn to her, confusion in their gaze until the name leaves her lips. “Titanic.”

“What?” The question came from Scott, but all were thinking the same. There’s no way she was talking about the most famous shipwreck in history.

“Titanic,” Lydia repeated, this time more confidently. Her own finger came up to point where Stiles' finger had been. “They used to call it the Ship of Dreams.”

“Titanic?” Isaac’s tone was full of doubt. “You mean the ship that sank a century ago?” He couldn’t help but add, “And the movie Leonardo DiCaprio dies in.”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t recall any other having the same name.”

“The anniversary is coming up,” Derek starts to say, deep in thought like it was all coming together. “It would make sense.”

“Wait—hold on,” Stiles lifts a dramatic hand. “We’re talking about THE Titanic—like Isaac said—that sank a hundred years ago. A hundred,” he repeats to show his point. “Anyone who is alive—even if they were a werewolf or shapeshifter or whatever the hell you want to call it,” he glances at each of them, “would pretty much be on their last breath of life. If this woman were a newborn baby at the time she’d be at least one hundred years old by now.”

In the debate none had noticed Peter moved from the couch to the window. The chuckle leaving his mouth caught their attention. Stiles makes a sound, “I’m sorry, do you wanna share with the class what you obviously know that we’re missing?”

“Our faces are the same,” he says the opening line of the second verse, only drawing confusion and annoyed looks from the others. “As they were the day we changed.” The man pauses, letting it sink in before continuing, “If the woman he’s looking for was on Titanic then she likely was an adult. Considering he turned her, probably by saving her from freezing to death or drowning, and she wears the same face she did the night she was turned…” Peter steps away from the window, now facing the group.

“She’s not aging. At all. Meaning…..she’s immortal.”

The silence following his confession is eerie, eyes flicking over each other to see if they were reacting the same. Immortal. Though the term was familiar it felt almost foreign. Never had they dealt with someone immortal. Unable to die and was walking the Earth acting as though they were human. Now Beacon Hills had two in its possession. They needed to work fast and the riddle only had pieces of the puzzles.

So who—or more like what, was immortal?

"What are you getting to?” Scott narrowed his eyes, Wanting a straightforward answer to what they were dealing with.

Peter clasps his hands behind his back, slowly inching forward,” It’s not shapeshifters you’re looking for.” He takes a step closer, “or a Kanima and its master.” Another step, “or a dark Druid.” Another step brings him right next to Derek, eyes flicking to the paper. “There are few creatures blessed with immortality—or cursed if you look at it another way. But most of them are born with it. Take Gods and fairies for example.”

“Oh my God—those exist?” Stiles feels his mind implode, “Are we about to fight Gods?”

“No,” annoyed at being interrupted Peter rolled his eyes. “I just said those are immortals that are born with their powers. And I don’t know if they exist, I’ve haven’t met one yet. Anyway, this one—.” His finger touches the riddle, “was turned. And likely the person who did was too.”

“So what is it then,” Scott was becoming impatient. And who could blame him really. For all they know it someone was already being drained of their blood at that very moment. “What’s the immortal that’s turned not born?”

“Come one,” he scoffs, like he couldn’t believe they hadn’t figured it out. “Ever wonder why the victims were drained of their blood?” The one question had everyone's face become colorless. “Has Stiles's father not caught on the wounds were made after they were dead?” Why their throat was slashed….but had two little puncture holes on either side?” Peter glances around at every person, catching the nervousness of their gaze as though they already knew what he was about to say but wished it wasn’t.

“The creatures you’re looking for…..are vampires.”

The rest of the night the pack was gathering as much information as they could about the passengers aboard Titanic—all 2,240 of them—while also trying to figure out any other clues within the riddle. They still couldn’t believe it was a vampire responsible for the murders. And that he was hunting someone he created who, still to their shock, was a passenger aboard Titanic.

And with 2,240 people on the ship during its ill fated maiden voyage…they were in for a long night.

“Okay so we know they’re vampires—our killer is the one who turned the woman he’s searching for into a vampire. She was on Titanic when it sank meaning—,” Stiles wrote furiously across the notepad, the riddle next right beside it. “He was on it too. Now we could narrow this down several ways. Either by searching through the passengers class or going through who survived because as Lydia pointed out,” the hand holding the pen points to the redhead, “RMS Carpathia recorded the names of the survivors before they reached New York.”

Either method was good, but there was a problem with the latter. As Allison pointed out, “but what if they never knew she was there? I mean having a newly turned vampire on a ship filled with people is a recipe for disaster.”

Derek nods, agreeing with her, “Her eyes would’ve made it obvious.”

“How so?” Asked Isaac.

Peter is the one to explain, “Vampires in our world are different from what you see on TV. They aren’t these pale, corpse-like, individuals who look like they belong in the morgue. They’re rather human-like if they’re equipped with a special glimmer that allows them to come off as mortal.”

“Glimmer?” Lydia raised a brow, finding the word a bit comical given the creature they were dealing with.

“We’ll get to that. But any vampire who’s newly turned will have red eyes—blood red eyes.”

“How fitting,” Stiles couldn’t help but groan. “So what, are you saying she’s likely wearing contacts to hide her eyes.”

“Possibly,” Peter hums with a shrug, “wouldn’t be surprised if she is. This day in age makes it easier for vampires to conceal their nature. But considering our little vampire was turned in 1912…her creator probably hid her on the Carpathia—or as outrageous as it sounds, swam her across the remainder of the Atlantic ocean.”

Derek closes the book in front of him, detailing the events of the RMS Carpathia rescue of Titanic’s passengers. “However he saved her can wait,” he leans his hands onto the table, “We need to figure out the last clue of this riddle.” Moving the riddle to him, Derek reads, “Wearing the Heart of the Ocean, she’s closer than it seems.”

Lydia bites her lip, typing away on her laptop. “If I didn’t know it any better…it sounds like he’s trying to reference a piece of jewelry. Probably a necklace or something.”

Peter rubs his jaw deep in thought, “That could be the source of her glimmer.”

“The necklace?” Stiles wonders aloud.

“Usually most vampires would prefer a ring or bracelet,” he waves a hand, “It’s small and concealable. Very easy for a Druid to enchant the item and allow the vampire to give off the effect to other supernatural beings they’re human. Prevents them from being obliterated by the sun. That’s their glimmer. Sealed within the jewelry to act as a camouflage. So long as they have it on,” he shrugs lightly, “you’d never know what they truly are.”

“And she’s been passing off as a human in Beacon Hills. For God knows how long,” Lydia opens a separate browser, hands hovering over the keyboard. “If her necklace has a name like Heart of the Ocean it shouldn’t be too hard to find. We find the Heart of the Ocean, we find her.” Her words have Allison come over beside her, realization crossing her face.

“Isn’t that the name of the necklace Rose wore in the movie?” Right as she finished her sentence, the image popped up on the screen of said necklace after Lydia typed the name into Google. “So it was real after all?”

“Appears to be,” Lydia was just as amazed. Stiles leans over her other side, eyes bulging at the sight of the large blue heart-shaped diamond surrounded by tiny little white ones.

“That’s gotta be worth a billion dollars.”

“350 million to be exact,” Lydia reads off. “At least today it is. Back then it was worth probably not even a quarter of that price—but still big for its time.”

“So…” Isaac taps his finger to his mouth, glaring up at the ceiling from where he was seated, legs perched on the table. “We’re looking for a vampire—probably at least 120 give or take a few years—who is passing off as human because of a magic necklace worth more than our entire lives. Wonderful.”

Scott takes a glance, letting out a whistle, “That had to have belonged to a first-class passenger. I’d say we start there.”

“On it,” Lydia begins to search records of the names aboard Titanic with First-class tickets. While she’s doing that the pack gathers to the makeshift board Stiles had created, adding notes to it as they go.

Stiles tapes the new information on the necklace to next to the verse on the copy of the riddle they made. “Heart of the Ocean a.k.a the magic necklace making the vampire appear human. To be honest, if someone were wearing a necklace that extravagant in Beacon Hills it’d be noticeable.”

Scott agreed, “She’s probably keeping it under her clothes. I mean I would. Lydia, did you find anything on who it belonged to?”

The redhead makes a huff, “from what the article says,” she clicks on a link, “it belonged to American socialite Y/n L/n as a gift from her husband Theodore Ford on their wedding day. He had it custom made overseas on a trip to France.” Lydia’s eyes widened at the next line, “She was the niece of John Rockefeller and he was the nephew of Henry Ford.”

“Good God,” Stiles made a sound, many of the others showing a similar reaction. “What a match made in heaven…and money.”

“Great,” Peter plops onto the couch, “our vampire was a once billionaire socialite—well maybe not billionaire. That’s a far reach. Since she was only the niece of Rockefeller and her hubby was a Ford she probably only had a snippet of their families fortune.” The man rolls his neck, hands clasped on his lap with his legs kicked up. “She shouldn’t be too hard to find then. All we need is a picture.”

Derek gives his uncle an annoyed look, “We don’t if it’s her or not. Maybe the necklace was stolen by her creator and that’s how she got it.”

“What else does it say?” Allison turns her attention back to her best friend. In her head she couldn’t help but feel there was something missing. That they were so close to the answer.

Lydia continues on, “It says here that they married in 1901–Y/n aged nineteen and Theodore aged twenty-one. They had a son, Benjamin, born 1905 and Theodore died six years later in 1911 from a car accident.” She scrolls down a bit, brows furrowing a tad and makes a sound of ‘eureka!’ “Y/n was gifted two First-Class tickets for her and her son aboard Titanic by her uncle John Rockefeller. They boarded the ship during Titanic’s first stop to Cherbough, France….survivors of Titanic recall last seeing Y/n place her son Benjamin into a lifeboat before being denied entry since it had reached maximum capacity,” a feeling of heartbreak fills the redhead, soon followed by defeat as she reads “It is believed Y/n L/n drowned as the ship submerged beneath the surface on April 15, 1912, as her body was never recovered as one to have perished from hypothermia in the freezing waters. Nor was she listed on the records of survivors on RMS Carpathia. Her son Benjamin was soon taken in by her mother where he remained in New York City until his sudden death in 1918 by influenza.”

A moment of silence passes as they take in the information. For Allison and Lydia, they couldn’t help the sadness for the woman they didn’t even know. To have to say goodbye to your child, likely promising them you’d get on the next boat and would be reunited shortly, only to never see them again.

The redhead suddenly straightens her posture.

“What is it?” Scott hears her heartbeat quicken. Worry takes his features when Lydia appears as if she saw a ghost. Everyone else looks the same when she brings a hand to her mouth. “Lydia?” There’s a slight tremor in her hand when she pulls it away.

“She’s closer than it seems.” She whispers the line from the final verse. Tone filled with near distraught.

Allison takes a hesitant step forward. From where they were all standing they could also see the light of the screen hitting Lydia’s complexion. Whatever was on it was hidden from their view. “Lydia…”

“I-I thought it meant that by finding the Heart of the Ocean we’d be able to spot whoever was wearing it. That we’d have to maybe knock on every door in Beacon Hills until we find whoever is hiding it—as stupid as that sounds. Because who in their right mind if they knew they were being hunted would just hide in plain sight? But….” her breath picks up, slight horror and astonishment as she stares back at the screen. “He knows where she is—h-he wants us to find her, because she can lead us to him.”

“Lydia….” Stiles slowly draws closer to her. Peter moves to stand from the couch, expression unreadable as was Derek’s.

But Lydia’s eyes never move from the screen. “The riddle—it was just his game. He knows exactly where she is. He has to. Because she’s been under our nose all along—closer than we could’ve imagined.” Finally the redhead looks up to the anxious eyes of everyone, revealing the shocking truth with the slow turn of the laptop.

“She boarded Titanic as Y/n L/n,” the screen shows a sepia image causing Allison to gasp, Isaac to mutter ‘holy shit’, Stiles to drop his marker, and Scott to feel his stomach drop. Derek and Peter shared a look, Derek more anxious than his uncle. “But she’s been living as Loretta Andrews.”

There on the screen, listed as the socialite Y/n L/n and wearing the jaw-dropping necklace called the Heart of the Ocean, was a woman whose face the teenagers had seen every Monday to Friday for the last three months. Who looked no older than the age of 30 like in the picture and had arrived in Beacon Hills shortly before the spring semester.

Their English teacher, Loretta Andrews.

[peaches2217]

waitt this is a stupid question but you're the only bigender account i see regularly 😭 what do you call yourself? obvi not just "man" or "woman" bc you're both but youre also not gender neutral, so would "person" not work to refer to you either? sorry i hope this ok to ask, i just want to refer to someone bigender the correct way if i have to in the future 😅

Please never apologize for asking questions! How else are you supposed to learn? I assure you, I'm touched and happy to answer any questions you've got!

It's important first and foremost to remember that "bigender" is less a gender in and of itself and more an overarching label to describe someone who has any two genders, be they binary or not; that is to say, a lot of bigender people (myself included!) are male and female, but there's also quite a few who aren't. So when speaking to a multigender person, the best thing to do is always to ask them how they want to be addressed. We're always more than happy to let you know!

As for me personally, I'm happy being called any combination of man, woman, wo/man, guygirl, girlguy, or any equivalent term. (You might see me referring to myself as a "fanboygirl" when talking about things I like, for example!) Pronouns, I prefer being referred to as he/she interchangably, whether changed up between conversations or even used one after the other in the same exchange.

Take this example from @snakeeyesdraws (yes I have this saved to my phone like a dork, the combination of the kind words and correct pronoun usage makes my heart fluttery every time I look at it):

Ultimately I’m kinda chill, just use masculine and feminine terms with me and I’m a happy camper. Again, everyone is different, so when in doubt, just ask!

[author-main]

queer hcs for all the links. geender pronouns all the good stuff

Ooooouuuhh Hi I gotcha

Time: Any gender, any pronouns. Coming from the woods where their family were all genderless tree children, Time never understood why anyone would call them a boy but honestly doesn't care. Call Time whatever you want, just make sure they know you're talking to/about them. Sometimes Malon will call them her wife, and in turn Time will call her husband.

Time is asexual. And for most of their life they thought babies came from cabbages.

Twilight: He's a cis man, he/him. Can confirm that Shad was Twilight's pan awakening. He never thought much about dating growing up. His mind was... focused on not dying. But he supposed that, since all the married couples in Ordon were a man and a woman, that's what he wanted for himself. Maybe a little gender nonconforming?

I wouldn't say that's not what he truly wanted at one point. I think, if he did find a woman he loved, he'd still be happy. But he and Shad are already happy together, and he wouldn't trade him for the world. It's hard to explain. Maybe one day I'll write a little exchange between them about this.

Warriors: He or They, preferably they/them. No gender label. Doesn't make a big fuss about being called a man, but only because they're actively blocking you out. They will literally just not listen to you anymore.

I like to think the captain is pan/aro. Romance indifferent. They may ask about dating from time to time, but doesn't really care.

Legend: Trans man, he/him. Internally? Maybe a bit of a hopeless romantic before he met Ravio. He talks about Ravio like: "He's a pain but he's MY pain and if anyone makes fun of him I'll kill them."

Functional bisexual. Not as useless as Wild is when someone attractive walks by.

Sky: Cis man, he/him. He wears black lipstick and paints his nails black. He thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. Call him pretty and you're gonna get a very conceited "I know <3"

Demisexual. In all honesty I don't think he and Sun are that big on PDA. A few hugs and kisses here and there, but overall, maybe they aren't that touchy.

Hyrule: Masc Agender, he/they. He has no preference in either of those pronouns. I guess he wouldn't care too much if you called him "she", but he would get confused and not pick up that you're talking about him.

He's acearo. consider qpr hyrule+wild

Wild: For a long time, Wild's parents didn't know if they were male or female. Right now, in ALUW, Wild is a boy, and uses they/them pronouns.

They're a Bi disaster, Demiromantic nightmare. They think everybody is pretty. But the moment you recommend going out with somebody, they get this weird nasty feeling in this stomach.

Four: Cis boy, he/him. in ALUW, the colors are basically treated like the emotions in Inside Out, so they don't differ in pronouns or gender.

He's gay and likes bad boys.

Wind: Trans boy, he/him. I don't think much about Wind and his romantic interests. I feel like he's more interested in adventuring and caring for his family.

[thebookdragonsden]

Omg my wife's I just resolved a weeks long misunderstanding and I'm dying. Little backstory and to set the stage... we're both heavy readers but for the past five years my tastes have leaned pretty far outside of the general Western reader's interest sphere (about 50% danmei web novels, 40% manga/manhua, and 10% western published media) and my wife, while much wider in her reading tastes has recently been caught up Korean manhua and those really trashy translated web novels that FB advertises.

So her coworker had recently mentioned he was looking for LGBT SFF recs, specifically YA because he was not interested in reading sexual content. She mentioned this to me and after In Other Lands and FT Lukens we both just kind of stared at each other blankly. Most of my western media consumption has been LGBT but it's also been adult or new adult.

So anyway she starts poring through ideas and the going through other rec lists. I'm playing a timed game demo so I'm only half paying attention to what she says and finally we have an exchange that goes something like this:

Her: you've read the Witch King right?

Me: yeah, not too long ago.

Her: would you recommend it?

Me: definitely. I really enjoyed it. But I thought he wanted YA and LGBT recs?

Her: he does.

Me: ??? Okay. Well the LGBT content is pretty minimal, mostly side characters, no romance, and i wouldn't really characterize it as YA

Her: ???? But it's on this YA rec list

Me: ???????? They crazy

Her: Isn't the main character Trans?

Me: he's a demon possessing bodies. Sometimes they were male sometime they were female. Pretty sure the author stuck to male pronouns though. Is that trans?

Her: hm

Me: I'm serious though. Almost no romance. There's an established side lesbiam pairing but one of them is missing for most of the story and the MC has some ambiguous relationships and accusations made about other men but it's never overt or the focus.

Her: alright

Three weeks later I'm sending her a screenshot from Illumicrate's upcoming special editions for HE Edgmon, gushing about the editions but mentioning I didn't know the books themselves. My wife sent me screenshots of the original covers, a funny post the author had made when doing cover reveals and then mentioned it was the same author as the Witch King. To which I'm like ????????? But i thought... And then i start frantically googling.

So that's the story about how my wife and I had a very confusing conversation for both of us regarding a book recommendation, where I was talking about Witch King by Martha Wells and she was talking about The Witch King by HE Edgmon and titles are hard.

[diroxide]

The MorphoGala. Yes. It may not be very similar to my own HCs but it's just so refreshing to see the "past lovers reunited" trope at all. I love it so much.

I tried to answer this earlier but the mobile app fucked up my response so I have to rewrite the general gist of what I had >:(

*Morpho pronouns: He/She/They

*Galacta pronouns: He/Him

My ideas for Morpho and Galacta are that:

- they met as young matter-born/Astrals (I think this is the community’s title for the Kirby species), they became lifelong companions, training alongside one another

- Morpho went through a metamorphosis as she has butterfly-like qualities. She went into a cocoon during her teenagehood for years, Galacta stayed by her side though and awaited her return patiently, even if he felt unsure if she would come back. He was not sure why she had to go away for a bit but he was determined to wait. She later emerged as a brilliantly blue butterfly. She has the qualities of both male/female morpho butterflies!

- Morpho and Galacta are star warriors so they fought and trained together relentlessly, aggressively, and determinedly. They became the deadliest and strongest warriors in the galaxy, a title that Galacta still holds but Morpho’s had been lost to time due to… events.

- both fell in love with one another! They made vows to one another and exchanged important items (could be rings, necklaces, anything they can wear, I haven’t decided yet) as a sign of their commitment, in a sense ‘marrying’ one another. They promised to be at each others side, even in death and beyond, vowing to *always* find the other

- Without spoiling too many potential ideas I have, they were split apart. The two will meet once more

[andersunmenschlich]

Well, I feel silly.

In that long exchange (apologies to the handful of people who follow me), I didn't realize that @lalauniversalis was only trolling. She's made that clear now! No one could genuinely believe the things she said in her last response (also screenshotted below).

.

Claim 1: Putting your footnotes in the tags is hiding them.

Claim 2: A 1980 study showing that 62 out of 200 gay cis men were completely parasite-free (and still gay) while 16 out of 100 straight cis men had the same parasites as the other gay men (and yet they were still straight)... this study proves that parasites cause homosexuality.

Claim 3: The prostate doesn't exist.

Claim 4: All those medical professionals were telling people not to take horse dewormer because medical professionals want people to be gay.

Claim 5: Trans people are also being piloted by parasitic worms, just like gay people.

Claim 6: If claims 2 and 5 are wrong, then not being cis and straight is caused by young people being taught to uncritically accept that they aren't cis and straight, or else by their desire to hiply and trendily sleep with people they aren't attracted to, dress and act in ways they don't feel comfortable with, and occasionally get harassed and murdered for doing what they don't enjoy.

Claim 7: People who aren't cis and straight live lives of sorrow and depression.

Claim 8: Until the 20th century or so, there were only cis, straight people in the world.

Claim 9: There were no black people in medieval Europe.

Claim 10: There were no black Vikings.

Claim 11: It's fallacious to say, for example, that someone who feels more comfortable in a dress than in pants is being true to themselves when they wear a dress.

Claim 12: The pronouns people use, clothes they wear, and roles they play in society are part of their physical bodies.

Claim 13: Every individual human body is either 100% male from birth to death or else 100% female from birth to death.

Claim 14: Experts can't be trusted when they speak about their own fields of expertise.

Claim 15: All children are cis and straight—there are no LGBT+ children.

.

I see now that she was just saying things to get a response, not because she actually believes them. And I fell for it.

Whoopsie-daisy!

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

Okay, so for the matchup exchange, I'd love a Resident Evil Matchup! Male or female is fine.

My name is Oz, my pronouns are they/them, and I'm studying forensic toxicology, even though I despise chemistry.

I'm really into video games, anything from FPS games to classic video games and dating sims. My favorites are probably old horror games or RPGMaker games. I love tarantulas to an obsessive degree. I also have a love for a lot of dad things, like fishing, baseball, and listening to Jimmy Buffet on the beach. I dress like one too - I wear a lot of Hawaiian shirts and cargo pants. I play guitar, violin, piano, and lyre, and I'm a painter, and I do archery in my free time.

I can't stand inconsiderate people, or people who are controlling. I'm a huge introvert and I need a lot of alone time. I can be a bit reserved upon first meeting, but truthfully I'm a very loud and passionate person. I very often say the first thing that comes to mind without thought (which often ends in wildly inappropriate jokes), and I have a tendency to derail conversations because I can't think of one thing without a million other ideas overlapping it. I'm most attracted to people with a good sense of humor and justice.

Thanks so much!!! I can't wait to write for you :D

AHHH HI :D

OKOK I'm doing this now. Yippee! I'm sorry this took so long T~T

I match you with...

Ethan Winters!

Let's be honest, he does all those dad things you described.

No shame, at all. He will take you on dates where you just go out on a boat, listening to Jimmy Buffet and fishing. Absolutely no shame.

I think he also loves spiders, even after the whole Margerite thing in 7. Please talk to him about them, it makes him so happy.

For some reason I feel like he'd be the kind of guy to say he hates horror games but then he starts playing one and is immediately enthralled.

GAME WITH HIM

He's horrible at shooter games. No clue why, but he can't aim for shit.

Let's just say that he survived the events of 8 and divorced Mia. Rose absolutely LOVES YOU. She thinks that you dress fun tbh.

Ethan appreciates that you just say things. He thinks it's hilarious.

He absolutely will go along with your jokes. I feel like he had a lot of potential with some of his jokes in the games.

He doesn't mind at all when the conversation goes from one topic to another. Honestly, he prefers it that way because it keeps his attention really well.

This man LOVES when you play your different instruments. He will absolutely ask you a bunch of questions about what got you into the instrument, how to play it, why it sounds the way it does, etc.

He also needs his alone time (AKA his alone time that Rose happens to be a part of) so you guys go off and do your own thing sometimes.

All in all, you're an absolute power couple.

[xtrablak674]

Urban Soul Revisited

What you may see at first is a smartly dressed man sitting on, well lets revisit that later. Upon further exploration you may also notice this is a Black man, with locs wearing pants from Prospect Heights designer Jimi Gureje, shoes by Cole Haan, a shirt he hand selected the fabric for on his 2011 trip to Ghana and had made locally on his first visit to the mother continent, finishing off the outfit a turquoise necklace he pulled from his paternal grandmothers costume jewelry and eye glasses by the socially conscious Warby Parker.

Now back to where he is sitting, he is situated on a left over stoop in DUMBO you can’t see this but all he hears is a cacophony of construction sounds, what he doesn’t see is the graffiti, murals and wheat pasting that used to draw him to this coastal part of Brooklyn. What you can’t smell is the gentrification of a borough he has lived over twenty years in, a borough he reps harder then its former president Marty Markowitz, and one he rarely leaves unless traveling abroad.

You would think the Urban Soul he was portraying was a commentary on the special style of fashion worn by Brooklyn fashionistas, or maybe it could be something else like the life blood of neighborhoods he has walked for over two decades and construction and conversion has weeded out the ethnic appeal of this cities neighborhoods in exchange for a regurgitated sterilized Manhattan step cousin of the ‘new segregation’ known as gentrification.

Let’s go a little deeper because what we perceive isn’t always what is true.

“He” is actually, a non-binary same gender loving Black person and even though he may respond to male pronouns she will also respond to female ones, he long ago accepted that she was what the indigenous people called two-spirited and e embraces the duality of es nature and the natural conflict of es soul. And like the doorless stoop e sits on e is all but invisible to people disappearing in a country that would readily imprison or choke the life out of em and discard em in the street.

You can’t think about a city and not think about what makes that city special which is its people, people are the spirit of any city and should be embraced not erased, so you can have your artesian tea and farmer markets to squabble over the best organic tomatoes but you also need to have the mentally unstable homeless man who sits outside of the Bodega begging for spare change. This is what makes up a cities Urban Soul.

Part of es Colombusing Series, a commentary on gentrification, change and being invisible in one of the most visible cities on the planet.

[Photo by Brown Estate - As I re-read this I remember getting into some kind of dispute with the curator of this exhibition Ramona Candy, whom is also an artist. She was missing the significance of the use of pronouns in this artist statement and how I deliberately presented one gender identity and switched to another near the end. Albeit this was before where we are today when folks literally list their pronouns in the footer of the LinkedIn profiles. I wanted to make a point here and I pushed her to respect my very elaborate Spivak pronouns which even for me are not easy to use.

Its such a commentary about timing, but it also speaks to my artistry I wanted to send a clear message to the viewers of the work that I am not just what you see, there's something below the surface which I want recognized, albeit it started with the curator I wanted it ended with the consumer of the work. This is what art is challenging the viewer in ways they hadn't thought of before or realized.]

[diorgirl444]

Hi there again, Flo! It is Sarah again! Can I please have a Narnia ship please?

Physical Appearance: I have long brown hair with blonde highlights, ocean blue eyes with bluish-purple glasses, I have a curvy but lean body with strong calves thanks to the years of dancing (cheerleading and ballet), horse-riding, running and jumping, I am 5'1 feet tall, I have pale-tan skin with freckles on my face and also I got random moles and freckles on my arms and legs as well and people say I got a smile that can brighten up any room.

Personality: I am an open-minded, kind-hearted, optimistic and friendly girl with a love of learning things like zodiac signs, MBTI types, crystals and Disney etc. I can be very impatient, stubborn, naive and I am also in the spectrum so I can be blunt and quirky only because I see the world in a different way from other people but I see the good in people no matter what and I am loyal and dependable to my friends and family and when someone hurts my friends and my family I can be fiercely protective all over them.

My type for a perfect person: I just want to be my best friend and partner in crime, I want a gentleman or gentlelady who will be proudly hold my hand and being glad that I am their girlfriend, I want someone to bring me flowers and compliments everyday and being the mother/father of my future kids someday and treat me like a queen all the time.

Sexuality and Pronouns: Bisexual (Both male and female preference) and She/Her

MBTI Type: INFJ-T

Big Three: Sagittarius sun, Cancer moon and Aquarius rising

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Enneagram Type: Type 2 (The Helper)

Temperament Personality Type: Sanguine-Choleric (The Influencer)

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Likes: Singing, dancing, acting, writing, reading books, typing, watching Disney movies, Zodiac signs, MBTI types and crystals.

Dislikes: Mean people, vegetables, yelling, someone who hurts the ones I love the most and bullies.

Random Facts: I've been in the school musical productions for 5 years and my childhood nickname was Sarah-Bear.

your perfect matchup is 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧 💌

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 <𝟑

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝟐 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 <𝟑

i feel like you’d be really good friends with susan so i can imagine you standing with the pevensies on the platform waiting to get to school.

and then like the weird freezing thing happens and you’re super confused but susan grabs your hand and like you end up on a sandy beach with them and you’re so confused???

they explain narnia to you and all you can wonder is why am i here???

obviously like skip forward to them meeting caspian.

caspian and peter are fighting and you run to see what’s happening and when caspian sees you he’s so shocked that he literally drops the sword….

because he knows in that moment that you’re who he wants to make his queen.

what neither of you know is that that’s exactly what the prophecy states. that you’re destined for each other.

he asks you your name and you obviously say sarah. when you do he mutters under his breath “queen sarah”

you hear and blush softly.

you wont mind being his queen that’s for sure.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 <𝟑

ok because you too are such a power couple. 

like obviously he courted you and all of that but courtship doesn’t last very long so i’m just gonna refer to you as his wife because we all know that that’s what happened.

first of all he’s so in awe of you, all of the time, he never  stops being in awe of you. 

like you literally be like what are you looking at and he’ll just say “you”

the pair of you are always exchanging love letters, he writes the most gorgeous poetic things in the world.

and he showers you with gifts, especially crystal tiaras because he knows how much you love crystals.

he loves riding his horse to go on trails with you, it makes him so giddy.

he often fantasies about what your heir will look like. will it have your eyes and his hair or maybe his hair and your eyes either way he couldn’t be more excited.

when the time comes that the pevensies leave, to his sheer joy you stay smiling at him saying “the kingdom would be a mess with at me” he laughs and says in response “the kingdom wouldn’t be the only mess” <333

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 <𝟑

hugs and kisses, flo <333

[jacolan]

Brianna Ghey and the biased reporting of the BBC.

‘[...E]ven [trans] corpses won’t be treated with dignity by cis society’[1].

This rather harrowing sentiment has never been more prevalent than in the case of Brianna Ghey – after her death was covered on social media, hundreds if not thousands of transphobes crawled online to deface her name, her identity, and her personhood in a barrage of tweets I'll save you from having to read. Alongside this, even apparently ‘non-biased’ news sources reported, and continue to report, the story in a way that encourages scrutiny into Brianna’s life, including cherry-picking parts of the trial and emphasising her identity as a trans girl (through the use of cruelly non-inclusive language). In this article, I will focus on this unfair means of reporting, and the right (and wrong) ways to treat trans people – who, unequivocally and obviously, deserve just as much respect as anybody else.

Whilst The Guardian reporter Roger Harrabin exerts that [t]he truth is that BBC staff overwhelmingly strive for political impartiality’[2]this has never felt less true in recent years – something not noticed only by the newer generation: according to a 2018 poll by BMG Research of 1,004 British adults, a minority of 37% thought that the BBC was truly non-biased. This bias has largely been suggested to be right leaning, a conservative political perspective that advocates for more ‘traditional’ modes of society. Many right wingers, as a result of this traditional worldview, are unaccepting of any diversions from the social norm – trans identities being one of these ‘diversions’.

This ignorance can be seen in the BBC’s way of reporting sensitive topics such as the transphobically motivated attack on, and subsequent murder of, Brianna Ghey – a 16 year old girl who was stabbed 28 times in a "sustained and violent assault". Whilst not all individual reports under the BBC are encouraging transphobia, many are cherry-picking aspects from the trial to spread certain rhetoric such as that the teens who committed the murder were mentally ill, and therefore exempt from responsibility. Many reports also place an uncomfortable emphasis on Brianna’s deadname (name assigned at birth that the individual does not identify with), and her sex assigned at birth. Both of these issues can be seen in Judith Moritz’s (@JudithMoritz) X thread covering the trial of Brianna’s murderers.

Whilst Moritz does respect Brianna to an extent by referring to her by female pronouns, many transgender people on the site have expressed their discomfort with her apparent choice to focus on Brianna’s gender identity, seen here:

‘She tells the jury that Brianna Ghey was a young transgender person who was born male but lived as a female.’

‘Brianna Ghey was transgender. She was born male and given the name Brett Spooner.’

Many have defended this preoccupation as a simple recount of the trial, however when observing the trial, it is evident that Moritz has cherry picked certain aspects that focus on Brianna’s identity. As a result, the thread has attracted transphobic attention, including responses to the criticism mentioned earlier such as:

‘What do you think it said on his death certificate?’

‘Brett Spooner clearly had mental health issues he didn’t get the help he needed

because of people like you who support transing. You killed him. Transing killed him. [sic]’

Furthermore, as a result of this preoccupation with Brianna’s gender identity, Moritz has failed to include in her thread the extent of cruelty the defendants possess – she has neglected to include the worst of their exchanged text messages. A reporter that has been hailed as a better, less biased alternative to the BBC revealed that the teens exchanged texts leading all the way up to before Brianna’s murder, including ‘X told Y that after they met they would “go over plan again and I’ll show you where I’m killing her and then we both walk to the library to meet her and grab onto Brianna slit her throat when she starts to fall stab her in the back then pass me knife. I want to stab her at least once even if she’s dead jus coz its fun lol [sic]”’.[3]

Moreover, Moritz has been accused of emphasising their autism in a way that has been suggested to be an attempt to enable their exemption from legal responsibility. This is a tactic that can be seen in many other reports on murders committed by those who most of society cannot comprehend, as a result of internal biases, as evil – often, the defendants are white people. This can be exemplified in the recent case where a man shot and wounded three Palestinian young men, in an obvious hate crime. Rather than being portrayed as the xenophobe that he evidentially is, the BBC (among other news sources) represent him as mentally ill:

'Mr Eaton's mother, Mary Reed, told The Daily Beast her son had struggled with mental health and job security but had been "in such a good mood" when they met for Thanksgiving on Thursday.

"Jason has had a lot of struggles in his life," she said. "I am just shocked by the whole thing."[4]'

This trend of presenting offenders with sympathy is largely, as I have said, reserved for white people as a result of (sometimes) subconscious biases presented by a society built on racism, and can be brought back to Brianna’s case, where Moritz asserts – in what many have argued is a likely bid for sympathy/ exemption - that the teens have ‘varying diagnoses of autism’.

Of course, this is a court case, so facts concerning both the defendants and the victim are necessary, but Moritz’s choices to cherry-pick the specific examples I have listed suggest a rather insidious attempt to present both Brianna and the two teens in a certain light that removes the reader from the true point of the case which is surely that a young teen has suffered a brutal attack and murder as a result of unfounded, sadistic hatred.

[1] X user @PPreoccupied

[2] Roger Harrabin, ‘Stop kicking the BBC on bias. A right turn was needed, but now it’s gone too far’, The Guardian, March 2023

[3] @jessothomson, X

[4] Lisa Lambert, ‘Suspect pleads not guilty after three men of Palestinian descent shot in Vermont’, BBC News, November 2023

[jakedamikasa]

Mommy Issues

Mikasa Ackerman x Trans Male

– Only the bowls were missing to finish washing everything, when I took the first bowl I feel arms hug my waist, kisses are deposited on my neck tickling me - Baby, is there much left?- Mikasa asks still kissing my neck -Just missing these bowls, my dear. go back to the room and I'm going there right away- I answer -Let Eren wash the rest- she says resting her head on my shoulder tightening her arms around my waist -You know he's not going to do that, right?- I say rinsing my hands , Mikasa loosened her arms grip and turned me around, she pecked my lips -You're so handsome- the girl comments, my cheeks turn red with her compliment -You're very affectionate today- I talk a little curious with that one all the affection coming from Ackerman, this morning she was like this -It's just that today you're leaving, I just want to enjoy my last hours with my boyfriend- she says hugging me, I laugh at her speech -Honey, talking like that it seems like I'm going to change city- I commented hugging her back, I run my fingers through her black strands -But I wish you could stay longer- she moves away a little to look at me -You know I can't, and my mother will start suspecting everything this- I speak with a sad face -Come on, the boys are waiting for us-she takes my hand pulling her to the living room.

– Mikasa and I dated for a year and a half, we met because of our mutual friends, but before I joined the little group, I had certain friendships that became toxic at a moderate level, but it doesn't justify anything, many of them don't they respected and claimed to respect, but when I was going to introduce myself to someone or say something it was always female pronouns and my name was dead, when I complained it was always the same excuse “I met you like that” “Your traits are feminine, there’s no way for me to call you for a man” “I promise to change, but it's hard for me” all this slowly made me sick but I accepted it quietly, no one supported or helped me, there were many intrusive thoughts that even caused me dysphoria or an anxiety attack.

– I stayed in this little group for two years, until one of these 'friends' received an invitation to a party from someone at school, everyone agreed to go, but I was a bit hesitant about the party. At this party there would be countless groups, mainly one that had a fight with ours, I tried to alert the group but they thought they were badass, that I would clash with any of them. I was forced to go with them, at the party which was quite busy, the group drank like crazy, like a friend I worried about the countless cans of beer and strong drinks, the leader of the group pulled me to a corner and said so much and in the end threw a glass of various liquids mixed in my face, I pushed the boy and left the house quickly, I had no one to take me out so with a great fear running through my body I walked alone in the street leaving, but a voice calling by name, name real name, not the dead name, call me and I turned back curiously making sure it was me, a blond boy came running towards me -Me and my friends saw what just happened, are you well?- he had an expression of concern -Thanks for asking, but yes, I'm fine- I answer -I know it's kind of crazy of me, but would you accept a ride to your house?- he asked taking the keys from his pocket, I just wave and follow the guy to his car. We exchanged an idea along the way, I found out that when I left a fight broke out and my old friends lost in ugly, he left me at my house and before he left I gave him my number. – I became friends with the boy, who is called Armin, as he had no more friends he introduced me to theirs and they all respected me and saw me as a boy, many of them did not know that I am transgender, but this case is totally irrelevant, only Eren and Mikasa knew about it. One day he called me to go out with his friends, as I had discussed with my mother I decided to go without thinking twice, as soon as I arrived at the ice cream parlor Armin was waiting for me with Mikasa and Eren, I sat down with them, Armin and Eren They went to order while I was alone with the girl, she was fiddling with her fingers, she seemed nervous, I decided to bring up the subject without fear, that's how I started talking to her a lot.

– When I least realized it, I had already completed a year of friendship, mikasa and I got closer to a level that I started to like her romantically, at first I thought it was an admiration or a passion, but each day that passed this 'passion' increased and it became something I had never felt before, I vented it to Armin and the boy was very happy about it.. One night in the pajamas that Armin made and called me, at dawn I couldn't sleep so I went to have a glass of water, while I was drinking my water, mikasa appears saying that she was also having trouble sleeping, she stood in front of me with her arms crossed waiting for me to finish drinking water in that glass, as if it were a fanfic scene our eyes crossed and a force made my body move move and when I least realized I was kissing Mikasa, in seconds the girl holds me against the bench with her arms on either side of my body and deepens the kiss when we separate our eyes sparkle and it was at that moment that we discovered each other's intentions. Weeks passed and we stayed for a few more times, when she asked me to date I was surprised but unsure at the same time because I've always seen and heard cis women leave transgender men because they don't have that or "Not being real men" as the saying goes. transphobic, but when Mikasa found out about this thought of mine she always assured me that she wouldn't leave me for those stupid reasons, that she would never leave me, and all those months that we stayed together were the best of my life, I've never felt so happy in my life Compared to these last few years, she and my friends did so much good to me, I felt like myself with them and it's so freeing to be yourself. – We watched the Spider-Man movie on television, on the middle sofa was me and Mikasa, she lying on top of me with her head on my chest and next to the other sofa was Eren and Armin hugging, Mikasa a few moments in the middle of the movie teased me by passing her hand on my thigh and taking it in places I couldn't now, kissed my neck and made me very embarrassed when she whispered nonsense in my ear. I managed to control myself with all your teasing, I feel my cell phone vibrate several times and when I look it was my mother sending several messages asking me to come home now, I would not answer her but her message “We need to talk” made me feel chills all over my body and a bad feeling -I need to go guys- warning getting up next to Mikasa -But already?- Eren asks -There are still two hours to go, why do you need to go early?- now it's Armin's turn, I swallow hard with fear in the tone -My mom sent a message, she said she needs to talk with me- I answer, everyone looks at each other in silence, I go upstairs quickly to get my backpack, I go down the stairs and go to the front door but Mikasa holds my wrist -You don't want me to accompany you?- she asks with concern, I give a Quick peck on the girl and shake her hand -I'll be fine, my love. See you later guys- I say goodbye, Ackerman doesn't say anything and just let me go

[lgwifey]

Hey could I please get a match-up or an exchange match-up (up to you)

Fandom: Hunger Games (just girls please)

District: District 4 - fishing

Height: 5’4 (163 cm)

Pronouns: he/they

Sexuality: Trans (female to male)

Name: Nick

Attracted: To girls only

Zodiac: Cancer

MBTI: INFP (introverted, intuitive, feeling, perspective)

Appearance:

Short brown hair, dark brown eyes, most of the time wearing hoodies or t-shirts, never skirts or dresses, kinda mascular but not too much

Personality:

That’s complicated. VERY sarcastic, can be rude, polite, golden retriever energy most of the time, stubborn, caring, protective, can and will throw hands if someone will hurt anyone I care about, can act professional when needed, slight gentelman, not lazy but not too active, patient, very nice to my friends, loyal

Likes: Material arts, reading, CUDDLES, hanging out woth friends, physical touch in general, rain, music

Dislikes: Homofobia, rasism, bullies, injustice, “calm down”, pick-me people, yelling

Hobbies: Krav Maga (material art), archery, writing, reading, boxing, playing video games

Extra:

Looking for in girlfriend: Caring, funny, respectful, would actually love me

Habits: Flinching (thank my PTSD for that), constant apologizing, can be a small show-off sometimes

Hiyaaaa, oh my days I haven’t done one of these in a hot minute but when I was reading your request I was immediately getting that you and Johanna Mason would be super cute together.

Like you’re both sarcastic and caring and would be the cutest black cat/golden retriever couple yknow.

The cuddles and physical touch might take her a bit to get used to but soon everyone’s wondering why Johanna of all people is running over to give you a bone breaking hug.

She understands that sometimes your PTSD is bad (I’m really sorry but like I’m not entirely sure how PTSD works but please feel free to hate me if this is wrong x) and that you might flinch and she’s super caring about it like if she notices you getting uncomfortable she’s straight up to whatever it is and scaring them/it away or something .

Also because she so used to you apologising for things that she doesn’t think you should be apologising for, as soon as you start to show-off something she gets super proud *insert more cuddles*

Oh and she would love you rambling on about your hobbies, like she’s defiantly 100% be boxing and sparing with you and you’d practice archery (and axes for her) together just having a chill time

Sorry it’s short and i hope this is okay babes, lots of love x