#shes so fucking feral like yeah you go crow girl. go fuck some shit up

[bonnieisaway]

WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT THAT - I KNOW IT WAS ONE OF MY MUTUALS - WE HAD A REALLY LONG CONVERSATION ABOUT HOW SEVEN ALWAYS WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KILL IN THE PAST, AND WE GOT ON THE TOPIC OF THE GIRL IN WHITE AND YOU SAID THAT YOU THOUGHT SHE DIDN'T MEAN FOR SEVEN TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T GO THROUGH THE HEART NOTICBLY MORE THROUGH HIS CHEST/STOMACH AND I SAID I WASN'T SURE IF WE COULD REALLY GO OFF OF THAT BECAUSE WE HADN'T KNOWN MUCH OF HER CHARACTER NOR WHY SHE DID IT BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE WE NEED TO SIT DOWN AND REDISCUSS THIS BECAUSE SEASON FOUR SPOILER THING UNDER CUT

I WENT FUCKING FERAL WHEN THIS WAS SAID because like obviously the question is when the hell did that poison get put in him because I feel like , Seven wouldn't have taken it himself? Like he wanted to move on and he was willing to fight all of Xuanwu for the girl in white but I think he would've known he had to do that face on and that poison would only, inevitably, put them in more danger?

And I can't think of another shadow killer or the leader that would want this- EVERYONE wanted him dead, Green Phoenix presumably didn't care because evidently the shadow killers DIDN'T go after him last time or were afraid to, otherwise he would've used his plan earlier, the leader NEVER gets off his ass, and there would've been no point erasing his memories if he was wanted dead.

I feel like the logical conclusion here - at least I'm assuming between the moment he was stabbed and washed up nobody else saw him, and prior to the fight he hadn't seen anybody else who'd have done this nor discussed it - is that the girl in white had it on her blade, right? Like wasn't she also wanted dead? Seven was protecting her and that's the whole reason he was wanted dead, so killing him would've gotten her killed too and I feel like this shit is waaay too much to pull a sort of long-con to get him killed, but even if she WAS supposed to kill him as some sort of long hidden plan, maybe she might've loved him anyway and CHOSE this form of mercy? Because erasing his memories would effectively 'kill' him? Or was it that they both wanted this to end so badly but she chose the impulsive way out, getting herself killed and a merciful, forgetful end for Seven that had a fighting chance of letting him live on without her?

But also the symbolism when they show it confuses me.

So this eye was a new thing in season four and it ONLY ever really is shown around the leader of the shadow killers, when he's on his being-an-eldritch-horror shit, but my thing is WHAT purpose would he have to do that to Seven? Like yeah, he ordered him dead, but HOW would he even get that done and what reason would he have? Like, it was kind of presumed the leader had gone out on a limb and chosen SPECIFICALLY Seven for some unnamed reason, to a point that even Redtooth was fuckin annoyed about it (probably because to some degree Redtooth envied him but let's pack that away for another day) so I don't know WHY this eye is here

There's also a crow here which I would assume was ALSO for the leader's spybird if it wasn't for Blackbird's whip right next to it? But like, Blackbird doesn't seemingly have an unsettled score with Seven. He wanted him to die, yes, and he said "painfully at my hands," but that's like, how everyone dies to Blackbird. And their entire fight, there was nothing brought up about something in their past or between these two, everything was only about Blackbird's past and his tramua, which almost sounded like he felt like he needed to be this anti-hero killing Seven because of the order and would let Shimen take the reward.

There's also a really faint hand here? I don't know what else to attribute it to other than this hand:

back in season three, which this sequence was VERY much a long allegory about Seven's nature and that he's had a very, very short time to live the life he wanted and that he's basically being fucking dragged through life at this rate, though noticeably the hand here in season four has a red, glowy texture on it (aside from the rest of the texture near it) that's seeming to me either be blood or also another sort of imagery for the poison in him

but also there feels like there's a larger image here, too? It's really hard to make out because I can't really tell if it's just the shading , or a stylistic choice, but the bottom right is noticeably a different shade and has an outline and the inside has a wood-grain like texture? But I think also this might just be a sort of outline - given where it starts on Seven's shoulder - that's supposed to look like a gaseous, poison cloud coming from him. just AAAAAAAH oh my GOD there's so much to think about from this 20 seconds alone kill me

[turnaboutchaos]

k

[yhwhsdaughter]

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

[stereotypcd]

ooc;; okay but like a 6 or 7 yr old debs holding makeshift funerals for any dead bugs or on occasion a squirrel or bird. the sandbox filled with graves of dead bugs / small animals, pretty rocks she painted the names on them. The other kids r weirded out n some scared. Ofc she doesn't understand why bc everyone deserves a nice place to sleep forever- even animals.

Ofc realizing tht everyone u know is going to die n rot in the dirt n give like to trees ? Grass ? Hm, they didn't know tht part. But imagine hearing crying so loud, scared n sad, they run out n see kids crying n Debs holding a dead bird. The teacher grabs her but her shoulder not wanting to touch her arms or hands. "Deborah. Sweetie, don't you remember what we talked about yesterday ?" She asks, turning and putting on rubber gloves n steps towards Debbie. Her head is down, looking at that dead bird- asdfghjkl who knows what it's got.! "Uh, yeah, you, like, said ta' stop, like, buryin' the animals and stuff in the sandbox," She nods at her. "But that's, like, the thing, I wasn't goin'' to bury the bird in, like, the sandbox because you, like, said it was upsettin' the other kids. But ! I was gonna keep it in my lunchbox and, like-" She doesn't get to finish her sentence bc the teacher was reaching for the bird. Debs took a hesitate step back, eyes wide n shaking. Panic takes over and she rushed for the door, the teacher back up, taking off the gloves n pushing the trash bin away from her- sitting cross-legged, a soft smile on her lips. It had never been her intension to scare the little girl she just couldn't have her keep holding tht thing.

She takes a deep breath, but explained tht she's going to have to call her parents, she can hold it until they get here. She hands her a paper towel so Debbie can place on the table. The little girl watches her turn n walk to the desk- she's like a feral scared cat. She tried to be patient n understand her students n wht makes them different n fun n interesting n sure she's had her fair share of strange thing her kids have liked- one girl like to pick her nose n hide it under her desk but could draw pretty good. So it was an interesting mix. Debbie is washing her hands when her parents n the principal step in. ( There's more I wanna write lol but this is turning into a fucking shit story XD )

Her obsession w death / dying is extremely concerning. But her parents say it's normal. " She used to bury any animal her little arms could carry and give 'em a proper resting place." Nigel explained with a smile. The teachers look pale, shocked, worried n overall confused. "We raised Debbie in the Savannah for a few years. " She says, cheeks warm and a nervous grin. "...So we thought it made sense to just be open and honest about it." she explained tht Debbie had already made friends with the vultures since she would save small bits of fruit n raw meats from her meals over time n started feeding them. ( N ofc now she's befriended a group of crows. ) they thought using vultures helped her to understand better tho-

She also overtime started giving other kids pets when one of the popular girls asked if she could bury her hasmter bc she was scared to touch him n her parents would just throw it in the garbage n she doesn't want her beloved friend to be treated like tht. Debbie does it, she paints a rock with the name, digs the shallow hole by the girls tree in her backyard. So tht was one of the nicer parts of it. She made some friends from it, she was still weird n stuff but the other kids liked tht she seemed to care abt their pets even tho they were mean to her.

This is where my brain ends. I'm not done I think. Idk lol

[aarcanechaoss]

2. Afraid

YPHS is a clever team, they did their research. They know how to beat their opponents with grins on their faces. Reality hits for the teams at the training camp, cockiness gets you no where in Yokohama is seems.

The first day of training everyone got to watch the matches, just made it easier to get into the motion of things... and so all the teams could learn how the Yokohama team worked. Was it signals? Words? Pure practice? Telepathy! They just worked so well together.

Gin adjusted her mask and took her place on the court giving a sneaky wink to Atsushi who’s face became dusted in pink. Ryoko laughed to herself as she took place on the court across from Karasuno’s Ace Asahi Azumane. She quirked a brow at him and winked making him blush and cough- in turn the pinkette began laughing.

“Don’t tease the opposition Fukami.” Fyodor reprimanded. “It’s unbecoming.”

She poked her tongue out his way before letting a lazy grin rest on her lip. “Make me Dostoevsky.”

Akutagawa groaned at their interaction and turned to Dazai and Chuuya who hadn’t taken place yet.

“Game plan five!” Chuuya yelled with a feral grin once Dazai had taken place in front of Kageyama.

“Game plan five.” The team chorused- the other teams looked apprehensive- what did that even mean?

“Karasuno can pick how they’d like to start.” Hirotsu said to Ukai who nodded to Daichi.

“We’d like to receive.” Karasuno’s Captain said missing the YPHS’ animalistic grins.

“Karasuno are fucked.” Oikawa muttered, Iwaizumi only nodded.

“Go Hinata!” Atsumu yelled out making the ginger boy grin brightly.

“Christ he’s like the fucking sun!” Ryoko barked out. “Be prepared little crows, your wings might get clipped.” Her orange eyes seemed to glow at the challenge, one Tanaka and Nishinoya were more than willing to make a fuss over.

Dazai threw the ball into the air, eyes locked onto the space between the two middle blockers as his palm hit the volleyball. Like slow motion Karasuno and the other teams watched the ball go from Dazai’s hand to exactly where he wanted it to land. A loud THUNK pulled them out of their stupor. Tanaka and Nishinoya were the first to yell out.

“How!?” Hinata yelled out amazed.

“Well I threw the ball in the air and then hit the ball.” Dazai said making Chuuya snort.

“Hinata withhold your fanboying until after the match.” Daichi reminded.

“Oh right sorry.” He smiled.

The game continued like that, Ryoko always hitting back but never very hard. Tanaka however got cocky and sent a ball her way but she was quick hit it right back at him. The ball stayed in the air for a few more hits before Dazai was sent the ball, he bent back, Karasuno expecting him to send the ball to Atsushi but with a quick flick of the wrist sent to Gin who happily slammed the ball down to where Tsukishima had been standing moments ago.

One serve from Karasuno looked to be giving them a point but the pinkette was quick, knees sliding on the ground, arms connecting with the ball.

“Akutagawa!”

Ennoshita and Yamaguchi were right. They had their asses handed on silver platters. With only one point to Karasuno’s names they bowed their heads and thanked Yokohama for the game.

Hinata while saddened by their loss made a beeline for Ryoko and Atsushi who hadn’t quite left the court yet.

“Hello! I’m Shoyo Hinata, first year, middle blocker and future Ace.” He said joyfully making the two taller students chuckle.

“I know we said our names earlier but as a proper introduction I’m Ryoko Fukami, second year, Ace and opposite hitter.”

“Atsushi Nakajima, first year and middle blocker same as you.” The silver haired boy said shyly. Hinata beamed at them.

“When you guys are free could I ask your team questions on your skills and teamwork?” The ginger asked, eyes shaking in excitement. He was practically buzzing. The second year barked a laugh and nodded.

“Yeah Chuuya will have some good tips for you- both being short and I don’t mean that in a bad way so I hope that didn’t offend ya sunshine.” Ryoko said. Hinata only seemed to glow brighter. “Plus it’s a training camp you are meant to learn.”

“She’s right.” Atsushi confirmed with a nod.

“Thank-you so much!” He bowed before running to grab Kageyama who seemed to be brooding over whether he should talk to Dazai about his sets. He didn’t but he thought about it.

Fyodor made a notion to head towards Ukai so both teams could talk to each other’s coaches which they smiled at.

“Hello I’m coach Ukai and this is their faculty advisor Takeda.” Ukai announced before nodding slightly behind him. “These are the managers Kiyoko and Yachi.”

“Hi.” The team said.

“Look I don’t have much to say so I’ll keep it quick, you guys are good and I hope our crows have a lot to learn from you guys and that you find something as well.”

“Thank-you Coach Ukai.” Chuuya said spurring the rest of the team to thank him too. Takeda honestly just stood there awkwardly- honestly the presence of the Yokohama team was scary.

Karasuno stood with coach Hirotsu and Ranpo with Fyodor and Tanizaki close by.

“You guys did well, that quick attack of yours is very useful and interesting.” Hirotsu began.

“But we lost.” Yamaguchi said quietly.

“No shame in that. It’s a training camp you’ll learn and grow over the next month or so. Our team is good because they are strong and know their strengths and work on their weaknesses. They are flexible and keen which you can be too with practice.”

“Thank-you coach Hirotsu.” Daichi said with a smile.

“Realistically you could have made three points that entire match.” Ranpo said whilst munching on a chocolate bar. The team looked quizzical. “You almost landed that point on Fukami before she slid in to hit the ball towards Akutagawa if you had angled the ball slightly more to the left she could have missed. The second one was earlier in the second round with the ball heading towards an empty space but if Dazai wasn’t just that bit fast it would have landed as well.”

“Ranpo is correct. Our team is fast and any of those two would have landed if they weren’t.” Fyodor chimed in.

“But... only three points?” Tanaka grimaced. Ranpo nodded.

“Alright alright go sit down, mingle and watch the next match it’s Inarizaki and Aoba Johsai.” Hirotsu laughed.

The day seemed to fly by, YPHS winning every match they had, the only one coming close being Shiratorizawa. Hinata was definitely amazed no doubt so where others. Kageyama, Kenma (surprisingly), Shirabu, Semi, Atsumu and Akaashi had been rounded up by Dazai who was exclaiming how he just needed to talk to the setters about their plays- somehow he managed to kidnap Sugawara from his place beside Daichi too.

“Sorry about him-“ Oda said scratching the back of his head. “He likes talking to other setters about their plays and stuff something about sharing information.” Chuuya scoffed before muttering.

“Dazai is a manipulative little shit.” The red head huffed. “What’s next we all break off into our respective positions and talk ball?”

“Not a bad idea Nakahara.” Hirotsu said before sending a questioning look to other coaches who seemingly agreed.

“What the fuck coach?” Chuuya exclaimed.

“It’s alright shortie go make friends with the other Liberos.” Ryoko smiled. Fyodor locked eyes with her and blinked slowly as a warning. She quirked a brow. “Oppposite hitters aka right wing spikers come my way.”

Fourteen other people followed quickly behind the pink haired wing spiker towards the benches to sit. Slowly everyone split off a couple managers joining groups- Fyodor joining Oda and Ryoko, Junichiro joining Atsushi and Gin.

“How do we feel boys?” The pinkette said lazily as she lent into her seat.

“Satisfactory however I would have preferred to win.” Ushijima answered whilst staring at Ryoko.

“Cant win every game eagle eyes.” She sassed.

“Can I ask something?” Daichi began. The opposite hitters nodded. “How did you do that knee slide it was very, libero-esque? But it also looked like it hurt.”

“Good eye. Ryoko tends to copy people’s movements. Chuuya as our Libero does that move a lot. I doubt it hurt her she’s got skin of obsidian.” Oda joked.

“Harhar mr I broke my collarbone throwing my arm up to catch a ball.”

“Quiet fire breath.” Fyodor snapped.

“Alright one touch.” She huffed, “He’s so mean to me. Boys take pity on this poor girl would you.”

“That’s what managers are for.” Osamu and Ushijima said in sync. The two players giving an awkward look.

“Oh yeah Rika was happy we kicked your asses.” Ryoko grinned.

“You know Matsuo?” Ushijima’s brows furrowed.

“We met before the games started. Anyway anything else? Questions queries things to share?”

“May I?” The Russian said. Nekoma’s spiker nodded. “You all have weaknesses that need to be worked on. Ryoko is too headstrong but she’s fast she knows how to make it look like she’s going to fail. Her flaw is that she finds too much enjoyment in teasing her opponents. Oda is smart and strong and knows how to guide the ball his flaw is that he’ll focus on his teammates over the opposition. Shiratorizawa is strong and fast but you only focus on that. Karasuno is an erratic team but have their skills honed work on the other ones. Fukurodani I honestly have nothing to add par your Captain being too over the top a points. Aoba Johsai trust their captain fully but need to also trust themselves. Nekoma are like well oiled machines and need to remove the need to be perfect all the time. Inarizaki showcased strength but also showcased cockiness, something YPHS shut down immediately as that is our biggest strength shutting down our opponents. Finally Itachiyama needs to get out of the slump that keeps them from reaching all potentials no matter how strong or fast their hits are. That is all.”

All but the two Yokohama players stared at the Russian in awe. He was sharp and to the point. Ushijima hummed lowly.

“I accept this criticism. I shall bring it up with coaches Washijo and Saito.”

“Yeah I’ll speak with Oikawa and Iwazumi.” Kunimi added.

“You aren’t wrong-“ Daichi started before realising he didn’t know the managers name.

“Fyodor Dostoevsky. Third year manager for Yokohama’s team.”

“Fyodor.” Daichi continued. “I’ll tell Ukai.”

“Yeah coach will probably agree with you.” Konoha laughed before pointing towards his coach who was about ready to either murder Bokuto or rip out his hair.

“Your coach looks ready to kill Bokuto.” The Itachiyama hitter laughed. “But I agree our team might be strong and fast but we are a little blinded by wanting to make sure we aren’t uncomfortable on the court.”

“We do have some pretty cocky members sorry.” Kosaku said scratching his neck. “Your twin is too confident Osamu.”

“I know.” He sighed.

All the teams went through this. Speaking to other players and having the Yokohama team submit their input on places to improve. Chuuya’s group being the loudest only being rivalled by Bokuto alone.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour and a half if anyone wants showers now go do it otherwise have them after dinner you can all congregate here and practice or hang out whatever teenagers do Ranpo will keep an eye on you-“

“Why do I have to do it Hirotsu?”

“Because you’re the youngest of us adults and I said so.” The man smiled scarily. So that’s where the Yokohama team got their game face. “And in any case you already know your rooms are by year group par the girls. Anyway go do your things and meet in the cafeteria next door in an hour thirty. Go.”

Hinata for the second time that afternoon rushed towards Atsushi but this time the white haired boy was with Gin.

“Atsushi! Would you like to hang out with me and Kenma before dinner?” Hinata gleamed. “Would you like to join as well fellow middle blocker?”

“Sure. Gin do you want to come?” Atsushi asked.

“Sure kitty.” She whispered.

“She’s a bit quiet.” Atsushi chuckled scratching the back of his neck. Gin playfully glared.

“Thank god I can only handle Hinata and Kuroo’s sunshine madness.” Kenma said suddenly startling the poor white haired boy.

“Where are you taking my sister?” Akutagawa asked.

“To play video games.” Kenma answer.

“Satisfactory. I have my phone on me if you need me.” And with that the protective brother left the four teens.

“Sorry about Ryu.” Gin said.

“He doesn’t like me.” Atsushi laughed. “To be fair I don’t like him either.”

“We know Kitty we know.”

“Seventeen hundred yen says they’re dating.” Ryoko says.

“Why bet when you know it’s true.” Fyodor added.

“Because it’s fun... and because Dazai doesn’t believe that Gin’s little kitty is our very own tiger, one touch.”

“Stop calling me that.” Fyodor grumbles.

“Stop calling me fire breath.” She counters.

“Fine Fukami.” The girl pouts.

“What happened to Ryoko are we back on last names Dostoevsky?”

Fyodor just hummed, an evil gleam in his eye.

“Training is at ten tonight. We should finish around one.”

A smirk formed on Ryoko’s face, maybe it was the dragon within, the grumbling warmth of a flame but she felt like being the annoying best friend to the one touch man of death. Guess she can show off just how strong she really is. She caught the eye of the Fukurodani Captain and waved. The boy seemed to glow happily as he chatted to his friend (Akaashi). He made a motion inviting her over to them.

Okay so she’ll be the annoying best friend after talking to who could probably be her male counterpart.

Yokohama is just here for some fun.

[askthecivilian]

Splint Ends

(or Laptop’s official story submission this semester and thinly veiled Omega/Civilian fanfiction)

Christa hadn't realized she liked girls until she met Alex.

Perhaps “met” is too simple of a word.

Christa hadn’t realized she like girls until, on an early morning in Brooklyn, she bulldozed straight through an unsuspecting woman, mid-stride, after not looking where she was going and knocked them both flat on the slightly damp concrete.

She had apologized profusely, helping the other woman to her feet. A quick smile, then off she ran, ignoring the fluttering feeling in her chest. Couldn’t be late. She had barely gotten this secretary job as is.

The next day she promptly almost did it again, but the blonde woman quickly side-stepped and winked, humor lighting up her countenance. Christa just about died of embarrassment but ran on, the heat in her cheeks mixing with the pink flush the chill air whipped up. How the other woman was wearing shorts and a t-shirt in the autumn chill, she had no idea.

It took her a month of running past her on the same route to work up the courage to talk to her. “Alex,” she learned.

It took another month of casual talk and quick meet-ups on the street to agree to meet more often.

Three months later, Christa realized she was completely and totally in love.

The moment her boss realized, she was quickly and quietly fired from her job.

Christa hadn’t realized that her existence was a dirty thing that needed to be kept secret until she met Alex.

----

Love had always been a strange but familiar concept to Alex.

She loved to run. She loved to live. She loved fresh snow and warm drinks and good cuts of meat.

But she didn’t usually apply love to a person. She wasn’t even sure if she loved herself.

She did like herself. She was scruffy and that was that.

She was sure that her love could be given to anyone if she liked them enough too.

She also knew people thought that was wrong.

Alex had learned from a very young age, in a very small family, in a very small town, in the middle of New Mexico that being a woman, liking women, loving women, and being scruffy were all considered bad things.

Alex decided from a very young age that people were the worst.

Not Christa, though.

---

Christa was good in a way most people never were, Alex thought. She was the type of person that learned your favorite food just to take you to lunch. She’d run odd errands for people with only their gratitude as payment and give what money she made as a secretary at the local publishing house to those who had even less.

Alex thought she was a Woman, with a capital W. Tall and willowy, blue eyes and a shy grin and short black curls that she pinned back behind her ears.

Alex thought she was beautiful and everything she wasn’t.

Christa still had her parents and still had her choice. A choice that Alex’s parents had made for her.

That was fine, though. She would wait for Christa to make her choice.

So when Christa came home one day with a broken look and told her- “I lost my job,” Alex felt horribly furious and horribly guilty and horribly selfish.

---

Alex was bad in a way people never embraced, Christa thought.

She took glee in breaking norms and rules and expectations, but never in a harmful way.

She was the type of person who shoplifted bread and water bottles to take to a friend she’d made living on a street corner. She fed crumbs to pigeons and crows, pet every stray dog or cat she could find and constantly went barefoot in establishments, all with the same rascally grin.

She was unkempt and kept her hair in long golden tangles that Christa gently chided her over. She hated the constraints of “women’s clothing” and had shunned bras and dresses alike altogether. She embraced the new age with open arms and eagerly took to New York and the chaos it enveloped and the change it promised like a mutt to a muddy puddle.

She was so comfortable in being herself that Christa envied her. She was a wild force of nature.

And Christa didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky to have her.

---

There were worse places to live than New York.

Sure, the weather was usually awful and traffic was hellish and the concrete jungle was generally  underwhelming to fault. But Christa knew the streets of Brooklyn like the back of her hand, and the rough calluses and contours of Alex’s hand as well as her well-trod paths of the streets.

Snow was heavy this year and their walk back to their apartment from a rare breakfast out was cold and slushy, both women bundled up, Christa significantly more so than Alex.

“I don’t get it,” Christa complained, blowing on her fingers. “You were born in New Mexico. How are you not cold?!”

Alex grinned up at her, breath misting around her face, and stole one of her mitten-ed hands, letting the warmth seep back into the cloth and chilled flesh as she held it.

“Warm blooded, I guess.”

Few people were out, most of them sensible and avoiding tramping about in the middle of December. The paused on a street corner, a newspaper stand close by, making Christa’s face pinch a bit in a bad memory before smoothing the bitterness away.

“Did you hear about the APA ruling?”

Another pair was out, two young men leaning around the newspaper stand, shuffling feet and making small talk to keep warm. Christa absentmindedly listened in as she scanned over the days headlines.

“The one about homos? Yeah. What a load of shit, huh? Faggots will be breeding like crazy now.” The taller one laughed, making a crude hand gesture through his neat leather gloves. “Not a mental illness, my ass.”

Christa’s heart stuttered. She stared at the blurred black and white paper in front of her, familiar pain bleeding up her throat. Alex’s hand froze in her grip as she went still as well, tense energy running down her arm.

“It ain’t natural,” the other agreed, nodding. The tips of his blonde hair curled over his coat collar. “They gonna ask us to fuck dogs next?”

Their dual laughter was raucous and chilling in their genuine amusement.

Alex moved just as the original speaker began his next story, of the “she-male” he’d “shown the light to” behind the bar on 5th. She pulled Christa onwards with quick, seething strides, away from ignorance and hatred that she couldn’t truly protect her from, no matter how hard she tried.

Christa had cried on the day the ruling came out, in their local gay bar, filled to the brim with exuberant cheer and good friends as they celebrated the small victory. Now, she felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

She felt small and afraid.

Christa didn’t hold Alex’s hand the rest of the way home.

---

“Have you ever thought about putting a little more effort into how you look? Lean your head forwards.”

Alex hummed noncommittally as she complied. “What, beyond this haircut? Nah, not really. How short is it going?”

Christa chewed her lip thoughtfully, winding a thick golden lock through her fingers before gently snipping the dry and harsh ends.

“I was thinking to about here,” she said to Alex’s reflection, marking a spot on her mostly-bare collarbone with a light tap. The sun highlighted the movement of her fingers, streaming through the minuscule glass window. Early morning birds could be heard, including the old demanding crow that lived on the roof next to theirs and had learned to tolerate them because of the snacks they plied his favor with. “Long enough to pull back but it shouldn’t get in the way too much. And maybe you should.”

Alex snorted and twitched at the feeling of the comb running through some unchecked tangles.

“I’m serious! I’m not talking about getting dolled up on a regular basis. That’s not you, and I’d never try to change that.” Christa brushed a few fallen clumps of hair off of the towel and let them fall to the floor to be swept up later. Alex really had a thick head of hair that practically overtook her small frame when allowed to roam free and wild as per her usual style.

“But-” she hesitated, lowering the scissors momentarily and resting her hand on Alex’s head. “I know that sometimes it's hard to be yourself.” She ran her fingers through her own thick black curls and met Alex’s eyes in the spotty reflection of the old mirror they shared in their apartment. “Especially when the world doesn’t want us to be ourselves. And sometimes… well it makes me feel better to change to person in the mirror when it feels like I can’t change anything else.”

Alex sighed and caught Christa’s hand as she raised the scissors again to return to her work. “I’m not going anywhere, Bambi.”

“I know! I just- I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hey,” Alex twisted in the chair, reaching up to gently embrace Christa’s face, frowning when she bit her lip and glanced away.  Alex’s voice was low and almost feral as she said her piece.

“The world can go fuck themselves. I love you. And you know me,” she huffed wryly for a moment. “ I don’t say that lightly.”

Christa nodded silently, gently turning Alex’s head back to the front so she could tug some more snarls out of her hair, the roughness of the strokes betraying her tumultuous feelings on the conversation.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, the broad tones of her home city mingling with the stillness of outside. Brooklyn and New Mexico were an odd mix, but Alex thought they were fitting.

She and Christa were like that. The hustle and bustle and the vast spaces of nothingness, intertwined. City and wilderness. Christa, on one of the very few times she had let Alex get her drunk, had compared the two of them in that way.

“You’re like my wolf,” she had giggled, barely remembering to speak English through the cheap vodka Alex had stolen from a friend of hers. “My pretty blonde wolf, hunting the poor little deer. You caught me so… so fast!”

“Does that make you a literal Bambi Lesbian?” Alex had cackled in return. And Christa had laughed, tossing her head back, the soft pale skin of her neck and shoulders exposed and gleaming in the dim fluorescent lighting of their apartment.

It had not been the first, or the last time Alex had kissed her, but it perhaps was one of the more memorable.

“It’s 1973, Alex. We’re living in the modern day and-” here Christa’s voice cracked, a hairline fracture in her steady speech “-and I’m terrified. I’m afraid of what could happen- to me, to you, to anyone else we know. Jane got in a fight last week on the way home because someone jumped Ludwig on his way home. And you heard about the murders further down south.”

Her hands slowly gripped through the hair on Alex’s scalp, just shy of painful.

“Why is it wrong to be us?”

Alex hesitated, taking care to gently form her words before releasing them.

“Well, what do you believe?”

Christa’s fingers stilled.

“What?”

“What do you believe?” Alex asked again, trying to keep the steel out of her tone. She hated the world sometimes, hated that religion was so often used to justify hatred over differences. Hated that being different because of who and how you loved was something they saw people being killed over. “You’re Jewish. What does your faith give you about homosexuality?”

The silence was palpable, filtered only by the occasional rough caw out the window.

“We believe that we all deserve love,” Christa whispered. “And that we are not responsible for that in which we had no choice. Everyone deserves that much.”

Faith is difficult. You are not always what you believe. But, maybe sometimes you can believe in who you are.

Alex turned in her seat, ignoring the wet sheen in Christa’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around her, trying to put all the emotions that she didn't know how to word into that simple touch.

“I guess it’s easier for me,” Alex admitted into the shoulder of Christa’s shirt. “I only see the world as plainly as it appears.” She pulled back momentarily and gestured at the sunlight making dappled patterns on the faded tile. “I see the sun and the sky, the trees and the animals, and I see us in them. And if they exist, why can’t we? How could loving you-” she gripped her girlfriend tighter- “be wrong?”

Christa’s head was bowed, dark curls brushing Alex’s nose as her breathing hitched quietly with all the emotions she was swallowing.

“I… don’t understand your God,” Alex admitted rather awkwardly. She shook her head, mussing both her hair and her thoughts. “ But what about Jeremy? Or V? Jessica? We’ve gone to parties with them. I’ve had way too many drinks with Illystria and caught pigeons with Joseph and watched Mari punch and kiss her husband in the same minute. We’re just people, Christa. We do exist. We’ve found our people here.” She bit her lip, wistful smile creeping its way up her face. “Maybe today is not the best. But… there’s always tomorrow. Look how far we’ve come from Stonewall. From just this year!” Alex pulled Christa closer, gently pressing their foreheads together. “The world is what it is. I’m just grateful I’ve found a place to be myself in.”

Because it’s with you, was the phrase neither of them needed to say.

Christa’s laugh was watery.

“I haven’t ever told my parents yet.”

“When you do, I’ll be here right besides you.”

And just like that, the tension in the bathroom broke and washed away like the icy runoff that spilled from frozen rivers after spring had spread her warm wings over the mountain’s peak.

Christa’s hands were warm and solid on the small of her back.

Quick fingers momentarily tugged Alex’s shirt before sweeping her hair off to the side.

“We really do need to get you some non-shredded clothes, though.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Schatz, there's holes in everything. Didn’t this shirt use to be pink?

Alex pouted theatrically, earning a slight giggle from Christa as she ruffled the blond bangs still falling unchecked into her face. “You’re picking on me today…”

Christa pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, smiling.

“What, me? Never.”

---

It took time. Change and acceptance are precious gems that are to be cherished and allowed to grow.

But then there was one Hanukkah in a small house in Brooklyn.

“Chag Urim Sameach, Mama und Papa. This is my girlfriend, Alex.”

People mentioned in this story! Because I couldn’t resist.

The Civilian: mine

The Omega: @teamfortressaswell

The Pilot (Jessica): @jessicapilot

The Contractor (V): @marveloustf2

The Helper (Illystria): @askhelper

The Pigeoneer (Joseph): @gwalleyvv

The Melee and the Mafia (Mari and her husband): @tangy-original-sunny-d