#and 2. she would have said if I didn’t have a novel and a degree than what the fuck was I even doing

[hornedgod]

they should invent a birthday that’s fun and not overwhelmingly stressful and negative

#luv my friends they’re the thread i’m hanging by #but I have to see my doctor that makes me [redacted] #and also I’m always hung up on the fact that I’ve literally done nothing with my life #and like. if you asked 15 yo me what her 10 year plan was she would have 1. laughed #and 2. she would have said if I didn’t have a novel and a degree than what the fuck was I even doing #and it’s like. idk mean 15 yo me in my head idk either #also it’s just been the hardest year of my life #which is wild when you consider I grew up getting [redacted] by my stepfather #sorry to complain but it’s my blog and I get to do what I want with it #even if it’s just being a sad sack of shit all the time

[babiebom]

Sdv Age and Height Headcanons

A/N: hi! It’s officially my birthday(the 15th) and I am now 23 :((((( I didn’t know what to post because everything is in the works right now but I wanted to post something to celebrate in a way so here!! Only base game stardew characters so no ridgeside or expanded. I do count Rasmodius/Marlon/Gunther/Morris as base game even though they’re expanded upon in mods. If anyone has questions for me (personal or about my fics or whatever) feel free to request or ask!!

Tw: none other than a mention of death in Shane’s part.

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

We always have to start with the loml (it tries to autocorrect loml to mommy and lonely btw)

I think he’s about 23-26 I think he has a degree in IT but I’m not sure. He has to be able to have graduated or taken classes or something.

I think he’s 5’10 at the shortest and 6’2 maybe 6’2 1/2 at the tallest.

Idk just seems tall to me because he’s lowkey intimidating.

Sam

Him and Abigail are in the same age range. I think they were born in the same year.

This means he is about 22-25 and his birthday occurs right after summer break(maybe I should do birthday headcanons?)

I think he is a very tall boy(keep in mind that I am short af so what I mean by very tall depends)

So maybe he is 5’10 at the shortest like Seb and 6’3 at the tallest.

I think him and Seb can be interchangeable when it comes to height? Both of them however come behind Harvey and Elliott but not by a lot.

Shane

The shortest bachelor for sure

I think he is very short and stocky he gives me big strong dad energy like your dads not the tallest but man is strong af.

So maybe 5’5-5’8? I mean 5’8 isnt short at all really but keep in mind I’m saying this is the tallest he can be, and the height really does make some guys seem really short when in reality they arent( also my phone tried to add king every time I typed short so there’s that)

Among the older bachelors so about 31-35?

I feel like that’s enough time to go from playing football(sorry gridball) in high school, getting a scholarship to play in college, dropping out to take care of his goddaughter when his friends die and becoming depressed.

He just seems like a 30 something year old going through the trenches :(.

Harvey

I think the oldest out of the bachelors and bachelorettes. He has gone to med school and that is I think at least like 4 years then 8 years? Unless I’m wrong lmao

So I think he would be around 35-38

He’s an older man that has spent his life helping people it’s so cute

He is on the taller side. In my mind he gives gentle giant vibes.

So 6’0 at the shortest and maybe 6’5 at the tallest. I think he towers over people but his posture is so bad that no one notices.

Alex

I think he is between the ass trio and Maru so 21-24

I think he graduated high school only a couple years prior to year one because of how passionate he is about gridball and how he thinks it’ll happen I don’t think anyone older would be like “someday I’ll go pro” they’d be crushed already

I think he is 6’0 exactly. He gives off 6 feet vibes like I can see that if he had a tinder profile it would 100 percent say “I’m 6’0 btw”

Elliott

I think he’s 34 exactly.

He seems like during his 20s he worked in the family business, he did what was told of him because he didn’t really know how to be an adult.

Then when he hit 30 he decided that he didn’t want anything to do with the family business and decided to move to Pelican Town to follow his dreams of writing.

He had enough money saved up to move and cut contact with his parents after they threatened to disown him because of him choosing to chase his dreams.

I think he is up there with Harvey as I’ve already said. I think they could be the same height range and who is taller is interchangeable.

So 6’0-6’5 really. Gives off hunk on the cover of a romance novel vibes.

Penny

I think she’s around 24-26. And I do think she has a teaching license and an education degree so this would give her enough time to have graduated and come back to Pelican Town after like a year of teaching in the city.

She seems sort of mature but immature at the same time, like immature when it comes to romance and dating, and sort of life but also she has the vibes of an introvert that was forced to mature quickly so she is good at making decisions, but at the same time her emotions are out of whack.

I think she’s a petite girl she doesn’t look very tall at all.

So I think she’s 5’2-5’5 I think for women to me 5’5 that’s the cap on people seeming short to me for women.

Abigail

Luckily I didn’t have to think about this too hard because I already answered this in one of my very first posts

I think she is 5’4 to 5’8 (sorry I’m American so 162 to 172 cm?)

She’s the first one I’m doing I’m not converting everyone but it’s like 2.5 cm per inch and 30.5 per foot

Her age is around 22-25 in year 1 I think. I know I’m my original Abigail headcanon I said oldest is 24 but I think 25 is okay.

She is amongst the youngest in her grade level during school years.

Haley

I think she’s on the younger side, like the same age range as Alex. Especially because she gives the vibes if she just graduated and hasn’t grown out of her mean girl/insecure personality

So she’s about 21-24

I think she’s similar to Abigail where she gives off like petite girl energy but also tall girl energy. Like I feel like she was a cheerleader and people always said that she could model so maybe she’s on the taller side

So maybe 5’4-5’7

Idk what it is about women that are 5’7 are specifically beautiful to me, they seem super tall but not so tall that it makes me feel like they’re a giant, their arms and legs are long idkidk.

Emily

She’s the older sister of Haley, and I think she’s pretty close to Shane and Gus so I think she’s on the older side

I also think that she could be the oldest out of all the bachelorettes.

So maybe 29-35

She seems a lot more mature than Haley, as well as understanding and confident in her life and her choices

As well as she doesn’t seem insecure or as if she’s weird at all like I think younger people are.

I think her height range is very small compared to the others like

She’s 5’5-5’6

She gives off the vibes for that like not too short not too tall just average.

Maru

In my opinion Maru is the youngest out of the bachelorettes AND bachelors because I think everyone is around the same age and she’s the younger sister of Sebastian who I think is closer to everyone else’s ages so it makes her younger.

I think she’s about 19-21

Like yes she’s working as a nurse, but it’s a small town and she’s an actual genius, I don’t think they care that she’s young. Besides Harvey handles everything on his own she mostly does paperwork and assistant stuff.

Her height has to be around like 5’2-5’4 I think she is a very small girl despite Robin and Demetrius being a little on the taller side.

Leah

I think she might be the second oldest out of the bachelorettes

Like her backstory is her working in a dead end job, she was in a longtime relationship and could’ve gotten married had she not decided to leave

So she’s about 27-31 she’s not the same age as Emily, but she does hang out with Elliott so I think she’s a little older.

I think she’s about 5’6 she makes me feel as if she’s about average in heigh because of how artistic she is I feel like anyone smaller would be very disadvantaged when carving or doing anything and so would someone taller.

Pierre

I think he would be about 5’9-5’11

Like he doesn’t seem too tall but he does give me taller side energy

Would probably tell people he’s 6 feet bc he gives me the vibes of someone who would because he wants to seem like he’s perfect.

I think he’s like 45-48

He is for sure older than Caroline especially because I believe he is into the traditional gender roles which means younger wife and older husband.

Caroline

Caroline I think is a very average woman. And not by looks because I think she actually would be quite attractive like I feel like she would be vERY beautiful.

I mean in terms of her body, she isn’t too big or too small, she didn’t have too much fat or too little her body is just average.

So I think she would be 5’4-5’6

I also think all of the moms are in a similar age range so she would be 44-47

Honestly with the way they’re designed I would’ve said 30s but that would make no sense if their kids are in the marrying age/having kids range.

Jodi

I think she is on the shorter side, she gives me short thicc mom energy. Especially because Kent is a military man.

So maybe 5’2-5’5 bc I think Kent towers over her and so does Sam. The kids did not get her genes because I do think Vincent would be quite tall when he is an adult.

I also think she would be like 43-46 she has a kid that’s an adult and a kid that’s a child so I think this age range would be more plausible for her to have had one kid young and the other one at an older age.

Kent

Is large and in charge like BIG MAN

So I think he must be 6’2-6’5

Like towers over most people and intimidates them based on size alone.

Similar age as Jodi. I think they probably were in the same grade in high school so same age 43-46

Vincent

Right now like as of year 1 would probably be tiny

Like people think he’s going to turn out like Jodi but would actually turn out to be like Kent and Sam and be huge.

So maybe like 3’10?

Kinda small for his age but not like super small?

He is probably 6 or 7 years old

So CUTEEEEEE

Evelyn

Granny Evelyn is probably TINY

Like I think she is 4’9

She’s so cute and small and was probably taller when she was younger

Also old as HELL from how she looks

So maybe from 80-95

Because she as well as George have to older than everyone on the older side.

George

Was probably on the taller side before he was wheelchair bound.

Probably 5’11 exactly like not super tall but tall enough.

Him and Evelyn have such a big height gap and it’s ADORABLE.

I think maybe 2 or 3 years older than Evelyn

83-98 so super old lmao

Pam

I think the oldest out of the parents

So maybe 49-54

She hates the fact that she’s on the older side out of the parents, especially because she isn’t really close to the others as much as she would like to be. She feels out of place among them.

I think she’s about 5’6 I can see her being VERY beautiful when she was younger, and she probably still has a nice body and face, especially if she stops drinking.

Lewis

His ass is probably in his 60s but sees himself as younger

I think 60s isn’t really old at all, like it’s still enough time to do different things.

But his glory days are over

Probably 5’9 like average height.

Clint

I think he might be younger than Emily. His crush seems very immature to me. And it makes him a little less incel-y but idk.

So maybe 27-30?

He’s definitely old enough to know not to act a fool but like it makes sense at this age that he’s an asshole after being rejected for so long y’know.

I think he’s maybe 5’9? Not too short but not too tall. Definitely thinks being taller could’ve helped his situation.

Gunther

I cannot tell anything about this man at ALL

He’s very mysterious

I think he is literally 40-59

Could literally be anywhere in that

He’s probably 5’10 too since I think he’s able to see something on the shelves, and he can see over the counter.

Gus

He’s on the older side. Idk if he has kids or anything, but he gives dad vibes

So maybe 50-59 not too old but like middle aged.

Very sweet and that’s what gives me the father vibes.

Also he doesn’t seem like a gossip but knows a lot which gives me that age range.

I think he’s either 5’6 or 6’3 nothing else. I think 5’6 is more likely though.

Demetrius

I think he is a little younger than Robin. It’s lowkey what makes him and Sebastian to be so bad at getting along.

So maybe 40-42?

Old enough to be a dad but not really old enough I guess.

I think he is VERY tall. Especially since in game it looks like he has a little height over Robin.

So 6’3 at the shortest? 6’5 at the most?

Robin

43-46

I think she had Sebastian at 20? Maybe younger but I think 20 is a good age. She was young and barely out of teenagedom that her parents were probably upset.

I think she’s a little tall but not too tall like 5’7

Very beautiful and her legs are longer than her torso but not in a tall SpongeBob vibe y’know.

Marlon

I think he’s in his 50s? So 50-60

I think he is younger than Lewis and that’s also why they can’t really get along other than Marnie.

Probably 5’10

Like tall enough that when fighting monsters he has no disadvantage but not so tall that he can’t get anything done.

Linus

He is also mysterious.

He looks old but at the same time he lives in nature and his looks probably don’t match his age.

So anywhere from 50-70?

Some 70 year olds look young and can move around and I don’t doubt that he is agile due to him being a nature man.

Leo

On the taller side of kids.

So sort of like 4’5 or almost 5’0

I think Leo is older than Jas and Vincent

But not too much older that it’s weird.

So maybe 10?

Marnie

I think she is on the older side. I don’t think that she is too old, for sure younger than Lewis

I think she’s like 50-56?

Young enough that Lewis wants to sleep with her for sure

Also young enough that she still hopes by some miracle that she has a child

I think she’s like 5’2-5’4

Rasmodius

I think he is either like super old like hundreds of years or like a mortal person old

So maybe like 60-70

Quite a bit older than Caroline and old enough that he has lived and seen some things

Like an affair and a divorce and losing everything

Probably 6’0 exactly ngl

Jas

Also on the smaller side, and will end up like 5’2 at most when she’s older

So like 3’7 first year she is a very small BABY

She’s also the same age as Vincent so 6 or 7

Willy

I think he is old but doesn’t look it

So in his 60s-70s

Has time to fish and perfect it has time to gain things and lose things

Has lived through a LOT

I think he is 5’5-5’9

A bit on the smaller side but y’know short kings exist.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv headcanons #stardew headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #sdv shitpost #stardew shitpost #stardew valley shitpost #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv haley #sdv emily #sdv penny #sdv abigail #sdv rasmodius #sdv mr qi #sdv george #sdv kent #sdv robin #sdv demetrius #sdv lewis #sdv marnie #sdv marlon

[stardustizuku]

Part 2: PART 5 changed everything.

So, why is Part 5 important to the discussion? Simple.

I’ve read enough Isekai stories, and Saintess stories to realize the parallels. I’m not saying it was conscious, since Kazuki-sensei has said that it was not her explicit intend to reference Isekai, but rather to create a realistic story with the basis of Isekai around it. But, to me, it is actually one that I’ve seen before.

It’s actually quite common for the “adopted princess” narratives to flood Isekai and reincarnation stories:

The Saintess, adopted by a nobleman after finding out about her powers, slowly rising through the ranks to save the world.

Oftentimes these narratives either make the parents abusive, or dead, to justify why the Saintess would be so willing to leave. But on not-so-rare occasions, the parents are written as simply, being okay with it. Or in particularly bad stories, it never gets addressed.

While the commoner origins of said Saintess is mentioned, that “commoner’s logic” that is so relevant to Myne’s characters, get completely brushed off in these stories. It’s either torture porn meant to highlight how tortured the poor Saintess was before this, or cheap tactic to make her appear more good hearted because she cares for the “commoners”. Some newer Villainess novels have even poked fun at this, calling out the seemingly self serving attitude these plot-point have.

In truth, these stories start, either in Part 3, Part 4 or Part 5. We skip over most of their commoner days, jumping straight into either the “Adopted Child” narrative, the “Royal Academy” or “Saintess” narratives.

However, by starting in Part 1, Ascendance of a Bookworm confronts these unpleasant and hard questions with the ruthlessness they deserve. For one, the extreme poverty she was raised in caused he money and profit driven self to be created.

The adoption wasn’t something she would have chosen. Given the option of death or being adopted, Myne would have chosen death. But since it involved her family’s lives, she had no other choice than to give up her freedom in exchange for their safety.

In her case, it wasn’t something she willingly jumped into, or something magical to be adopted by the “Duke of North” but it was a tragic affair. She was ripped from her family, she was forced to act and learn things she didn’t want to. Simply put, this was far from the magic outcome other Isekai stories form.

By the time we jump into Part 3, while the sense of wonder is still there, it’s painted with these undertones of sadness. It also doesn’t help that most of the fairy-tale like “Adopted Child” narrative that often forms in these stories, is more than absent in here.

The whole “I’m a Saintess so I was adopted by the Duke” would be tooth rotting fluff in other isekai novels, where the protagonist has to gain the affection of her adoptive father by being the cutest little thing ever.

…In her case, is one traumatic even after the other.

Rozemyne keeps getting swarmed with work and lessons, having to fight for her life to get ingredients for her medicine, having a half-brother who’s little more than useless, and the entire thing with Hasse…It again reiterates: The adoption, emotionally speaking, was never an upgrade.

While Sylvester considers her valuable and cares for her to some degree - there’s a clear divide between them. Sylvester puts this divide simply because he’s an archduke, and Rozemyne, well, for being Rozemyne. Sylvester never sees Rozemyne as her child, or treats her with doting kindness. To him, she’s a powerful ally, nothing more.

(Despite what people may think, Rozemyne’s closeness to someone is determined by an entirely different system, and Sylvester is counted as more of an ally than family. She put Charlotte on a higher scale than him. She very much does not see him as a Father and would sooner call Kardestadt that)

And even then, Part 3 is not really the focus of the story. The actual story begins to kick in during Part 4, when they go to the Royal Academy and Rozemyne starts to interact with the other Duchies. Again, it’s very common to have Royal Academies in isekai novels. And it’s also very common to jump to them, out of the nowhere. I appreciate how Ascendance of a Bookworm planted the seeds of Royal Academy since as early as Part 2, because I sweAR TO GOD, the NEXT isekai that drops the stupid “magic school” out of the NOWHERE in the middle of my childcare novel is getting PUNTED.

The Royal Academy actually starts to introduce us to the story setting we’ll spend the most time with. Part 1, 2 & 3 form about just half of the entire story. The other half is spent on the Royal Academy and dealing with, well, Royalty and other duchies. And it’s when we first get introduced to how absurdly powerful and abnormal Rozemyne truly is. Because back home she got constantly compared to Ferdinand, very rarely could we see just how different she was to her peers. We sorta could peer at it with Wilfred, but because he was such a bad example of what a Noble should be in Part 3 - it couldn’t even be called a comparison.

And while I was pleasantly surprised to see a subversion of my expectations on all these volumes, I was so focused on these things that I failed to notice what this all meant, until I had the full picture in Part 5.

Part 5 is, well, it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s the first time Rozemyne has to walk on her own two feet without Ferdinand there to hold her hand. Yeah, sure, Sylvester is there, Bonifatus is too and Kardestadt, but it quickly becomes apparent that they’re not nearly equipped enough to properly guide Rozemyne. Not only because at that point in time they’re too busy to give her an education, but because she has a better control in many of these issues than they do.

She has more mana, she interacts better with other duchy’s nobles, she gives insight and solutions on many of their issues, is able to directly face the consequences of her actions, and controls their duchy’s main exports and trends. This is not to say that Sylvester isn’t doing a great job as an archduke, since he’s been shielding her all this time and trying his best to contain her - it’s just that without Ferdinand there, Rozemyne simply grew too big for the duchy. Ferdinand was the only one capable of keeping up with her, her ideas, and her projects. Without him, Rozemyne became too much of a central piece in Ehrenfest.

And that’s when it hit me.

Up until now, we weren’t watching the story of Rozemyne. I couldn’t describe it as anything more than the prologue, or setting the stage for the actual real conflict that is about to unfold in Part 5. And each and every part beforehand was a way to properly give the tools to Rozemyne to become this. The Avatar of Mestionora.

Part 1 develops her merchant and commoner’ side. Her ruthlessness when it comes to profits, her single minded obsessions, and developing the empathy and love above books that comes to define her.

Part 2 develops her as Saint. Her temple work, her learning about gods and goddesses, her prayers, and work in the orphanage. Since this is the narrative that helps her with magic it’s imperative she learns it.

Part 3 develops her as an Ehrenfest Noble. Her position on the social hierarchy, the expectations of her in regards to supporting Wilfred, and the duchy.

Part 4 develops her as a Yugerschmidt Noble. One with a schtappe, one who can wield mana, that of a prodigy.

And all these identities, all these values and lessons, culminate in Part 5. Where, with no one left who can properly prop her up, she has to start standing for herself. She can no longer rely on Ferdinand to tell her what’s right and what’s wrong, she has to make those decisions herself.

And this is why I say Part 5 is amazing. When I was talking about being unable to accurately interpret the politics of Ascendance of a Bookworm, this was the issue. I wasn’t reading the story of politics, but rather - I was reading the setting of the stage for the story about politics.

Before Part 5, it was all about laying the groundwork. How the temple works, how the nobles work, Myne’s logic, etc.

Part 1 Myne couldn’t form her own identity, or properly have an opinion on things, because she didn’t understand how the world works. Likewise, us the audience, couldn’t fully understand the message or the politics being pushed forwards because we lacked the context. We were relegated to, much like Myne, listening to what Ferdinand said was right or wrong.

Now, however, with Rozemyne having her own identity, she no longer has this issue. She has learned, she’s watched. She has formed her three core values that rule her world.

These are:

Family

Meritocracy

Capitalism

These are things she’ll rarely budge in. You cannot threaten her family. He who does not work, shall not eat. And when the opportunity arises, take it and profit as much as you can.

I actually had not realized this for a while. I kept having this nagging feeling that I was missing something, but it finally clicked in Volume 4 Part 5, with.

PREV << MASTERLIST >> NEXT

#ascendance of a bookworm #honzuki no gekokujou #essay #analysis #short essay #character analysis #AoB essay

[azuramarigold]

Let's Write A Story Together

Maya Fey is a famous author that has gotten herself into some trouble - someone is leaving letters at her home and gifts at her events claiming to be a secret admirer. Obviously creeped out and paranoid she turns to her lawyer sister who refers her to her junior associate, Phoenix Wright, to help Maya with the case.

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - "Writer"

** TRIGGER WARNING: There is stalking involved! **

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - this one being "Writer"! I chose Maya to be the main character as the "writer" as I've read many fanfics of her being a fanfiction writer herself for "Steel Samurai" lol

AO3 DAY 1 DAY 2

Day 3: Writer

No one told her that her life of being a famous author was going to be this extreme.

            Maya Fey was a Young Adult fiction writer – famous for writing romance novels based on spirit mediums in a reclusive village and young samurais that acted almost like princes to said mediums. It was something of a fantasy that she thought she would have since she was a little girl since she grew up in a small town and wished to be whisked away by a knight in shining armor.

            It started with small writing competitions that she did in middle school and high school. She won some awards. Her sister encouraged her to continue her writing and creativity. Maya ended up going to community college and got a small degree in creative writing and literature.

            After a few years of short stories being published that were not too successful, she decided on a novel instead. It was an overnight sensation to the point where people demanded sequels – so that was she did. She wrote a few sequels and they ended up being turned into a small television series that did a cross-over with the “Steel Samurai” TV series.

            It was amazing to be recognized for once for her talents in her writing. Maya felt on top of the world.

            That was until she kept getting many gifts and letters from a “Secret Admirer”. It really freaked her out as it was going directly to her loft and didn’t have her address written on it. Maya found that she was looking over her shoulder constantly, eyeing every event to see if there was anyone out of the ordinary.

            After three months of constant paranoia, she finally had to ask her elder sister – Mia Fey – for legal advice as she was a lawyer.

            “A stalker situation?” Mia mused when the two were in her office at “Fey and Co. Law Offices”. “I’m afraid I personally can’t take your case due to conflict of interest…”

            “Aw… really?” Maya whined.

            “My junior partner can help you though,” Mia informed with a smile. “He’s still a little new but I think he can help you out.”

            “New?” Maya questioned skeptically. “Hasn’t the guy been working for you for a few years now?”

            “He had to take some time off the last couple of years,” Mia mentioned with a grimace. “He’s getting back into the swing of things.”

            Maya gave a groan, “So, you couldn’t give me a referral to Grossberg or even Diego…?”

            Mia rolled her eyes. “You met Phoenix one time, cut him some slack,” she lightly laughed. “He’s a good guy.”

            “He said he didn’t like samurai stuff…” Maya pouted as she crossed her arms.

            “Do you want a discounted, low-profile case or not?” Mia sternly asked her little sister, suddenly cutting off her playfulness.

            Maya jolted. She would much rather have this stalker case on the down low. “Okay… fine… when is he in?” she finally sighed in defeat.

            “Oh, I’m free right now actually,” a low voice said from behind her chair.

            Maya yelped as she spun around to see Phoenix Wright standing behind her. He was much taller than her, about a foot and a half, and broad shouldered. As always he wore his traditional blue suit with black dress shoes and a red tie. However, since the last time she had seen him - which she’ll admit has been a few years - he had added a pale blue almost gray waistcoat underneath and his suit wasn’t buttoned up all the way. In the left breast pocket of the jacket, he had a golden chain that was sticking out that was peculiar.

            “Nice to meet you again, Ms. Fey,” Phoenix greeted with a small smile. He still had his jet-black spiked hair, but this time he had a stubborn piece that was sticking down his forehead. It took all of Maya’s willpower to not try to slick it back as it was annoying her. In the last few years his jawline squared up a bit more with age and maturity, however, his dark blue eyes still sparkled with the same immature wonder that he had when they had first met.

            “Uh… likewise, Mr. Wright…” Maya replied meekly. She felt herself slump down her chair, resisting the urge to pull her light purple rain jacket over her head to hide in embarrassment.

            Mia gave her younger sister a sly look. “Well… I must go investigate a crime scene,” she announced. “Phoenix, you have the key to lock up when you’re done if you finish the consultation early – don’t work too hard you too!” She then gathered her white leather purse and gave a wink and clacked away out of the office with her white heels.

            Phoenix gave a sigh, “Alright, we can head over to my desk over here…” He then led Maya to a smaller desk in the office that was an oak brown. It was still nice, but not nearly as extravagant as Mia’s. He had a small laptop that was open, and a few legal pads spread about; there were more doodles of random characters than there were legal notes, however. There were a couple of picture frames on his desk, but they were facing him so Maya couldn’t see who they were of. “So, a stalker, huh?” Phoenix then asked casually.

            “Uh… yeah…” Maya admitted wearily.

            “I usually do murder cases,” Phoenix wistfully said, twirling a pen between his fingers. “But might as well nip it in the bud before it turns into one, right?”

            Maya grimaced. “If that was your attempt of a joke… that was in poor taste…” she told him with a deep frown.

            Phoenix made a face. “Uh… sorry… that was my bad…” he sheepishly whispered as he rubbed the back of his head with a free hand. He then went over to his laptop. “So… about five books in your series, huh?” he commented with a low whistle. “That’s impressive… I think the last time we had talked you had only two…?”

            “And now I’ve also written three mini novellas,” Maya smirked confidentially.

            “My daughter likes the TV show, and she loved the crossover with the ‘Steel Samurai’,” he said offhandedly. Phoenix then realized what he said and then immediately tried to backpedal, “Oh, what I mean was-”

            Maya gasped, “I didn’t know you had a daughter!”

            “She’s… adopted…” he explained slowly. “I adopted her a couple of years ago after a trial went south…”

            Was that what Mia meant that he took a couple of years off…?

            “What’s her name?” Maya asked lightly.

            Phoenix glanced over from his laptop. “I’m sorry?”

            “Your daughter… what’s her name?”

            “Trucy…”

            “Oh, that’s a lovely name!” Maya complimented with a smile. “How old is she?”

            “She… just turned ten last month.”

            Maya gave an awkward chuckle, “Oh, good thing you said she was adopted because you look way too young to be a dad to a ten-year-old!”

            Phoenix gave her a side look with a small smirk. “Yeah… I’ve been told that…” he mentioned. He did a few clicks on his laptop, which Maya had to suppress a giggle as he was comically slow at it as he used one finger at a time to type. “Okay… when did you start noticing the stalking?”

            Maya put her hand to her cheek. “I don’t know… maybe five months ago…?” she guessed. There was slow typing. “It was a couple of letters at first… I noticed my address wasn’t written on them and they were all the same handwriting…”

            “No return address either?” Phoenix pressed lightly.

            Maya nodded. She then continued, “Then there were flowers at random book signing events. I thought they were from the venues until I noticed it was the same handwriting…” She then started to rub the upper part of her arms as though she were getting a chill.

            “Have there been any incidents at your book signing events or book tours?” Phoenix then asked curiously. “Or at any of your tours involving the TV show?”

            “I… don’t think there was anything odd…?” Maya confessed, her putting her head in her hands. “It’s just… really creeping me out. I know a lot of die-hard fans go to most of my events… I recognize some people’s faces… but could one of them really be a creepy stalker?”

            Phoenix gave a small shrug. “You’re famous and we are in Los Angeles… sadly, even someone of your stature could end up being crazy,” he pointed out.

            “I’m not crazy!” Maya shouted angrily.

            Phoenix raised his hands in defense from his laptop. “I didn’t say you were!” he insisted, his mouth twisted in a frown and his eyes furrowed angrily. “I just said someone of your stature – as in petite and cute!” Again, he realized what he said as a blush crept on his cheeks. He shook his head violently. “Anyway, first things first – we don’t have any useful information here to file a petition of a restraining order.”

            “A… restraining order…?” Maya echoed.

            “That is correct,” Phoenix said. “It is the first line of defense against a stalker. Unfortunately, depending on the stalker, they end up breaking it. However, because they do it is immediate jail time.”

            Maya raised a brow. “What… if it becomes violent…?” she asked in a small voice.

            Phoenix shook his head. “Oh, I won’t let it come to that…” he assured.

            “And how so…?”

            “Because I have a little girl that happens to know a few… tricks and we are going to find out who your stalker is right away and rest assured, they’ll never bother you again, Ms. Fey!”

            “Maya.”

            “Hmm?”

            “You can call me ‘Maya’, Mr. Wright.”

            A chuckle escaped the attorney. “Then, you can call me ‘Phoenix’.”

            She tapped her chin. “Nah, I think I would rather call you ‘Nick’,” she told him, noticing his eyes widen slightly.

            “Uh… okay…”

            Maya didn’t hesitate to sign on the dotted line of the contract that Phoenix had drafted up for her.

**

Maya didn’t get anything from the stalker for two weeks – which she thought was strange.

            Phoenix had stopped by her loft the couple weeks after the consultation per Maya’s request since she was out of town, his ten-year-old daughter in tow with a box of magic props in both of their hands. The girl was dressed in a magician’s uniform complete with a black unitard, pink cape with a teal diamond clasp, white gloves, white boots, and her brunette hair tied back and under a pink top hat. Her ocean blue eyes were large and round, filled with wonder and excitement.

            “Oh, hello,” Maya had greeted the young girl. “You must be Trucy, right?”

            “I’m Trucy Wright, yes!” the small girl beamed, trying not to chuckle at her own joke.

            Phoenix gave a laugh. “She loves that her last name is a pun now…” he explained to Maya, him rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a smile. He was not wearing his blue suit that she was used to seeing him wear. Instead, he wore a light blue, short-sleeved button up with jeans and white sneakers.

            “Are you going to be my new Mommy?” Trucy asked suddenly. “You’re very pretty like Daddy says you are!”

            Maya was taken aback by the sudden question, feeling her eyes go wide. “Wha…?”

            Phoenix slapped a hand over his daughter’s mouth. “HA HA HA!” he forced a laugh. “Aren’t little kids adorable!?” he stressed with a forced smile. With a low hiss Maya could hear Phoenix say to Trucy, “Trucy Artemis Wright… how many times did I say on the way over here not to mention that!?”

            “At least twelve, Daddy!” Trucy happily squealed loudly.

            Phoenix took off the girl’s hat and patted her head. “Okay… now go rig what you have to rig, my little Magical Girl!” he told her with a wink.

            “Okay, Daddy!” Trucy went off like a whirlwind.

            “Uh…” Maya then said nervously.

            Phoenix gave a small jump. “Oh, I’m sorry about Trucy!” he apologized. “She just… get’s excited when meeting a new person!” he explained gently. “Especially if they are a woman…”

            “How many times did she try to ask my sister to be her ‘Mommy’?” Maya asked slyly. Mia was a drop-dead gorgeous woman with assets in all the right departments to boot with intelligence and a great job– of course Trucy would get attached and want someone like that in her life.

            Phoenix gave her a confused look. “Huh? Oh, none…” he told her honestly, him giving a light chuckle as he scratched behind his head again.

            Maya gave a surprised look. “Wait… what…?”

            “She was ‘Aunt Mia’ right on the spot,” Phoenix shrugged.

            Trucy finally came back by the front door and was putting her final touches. She had apparently rigged a pully system from the front door that would alert Maya if someone was there. In turn a mechanism would activate and cause blue dye to explode from a balloon that was rigged behind the mail slot on her door. A camera would take a picture that was rigged in the corner of the doorway.

            “Wouldn’t it have been easier… to get a doorbell camera…?” Maya offered, a slight frown tugging her lips. “I could’ve done that from the get-go.”

            Phoenix and Trucy looked at each other.

            “Then that wouldn’t be as fun!” Trucy shouted with a pout. She then took off her hat and pulled out a rubber chicken to put next to the door. “For good luck!” she stated as her father rolled his eyes, not understanding how a rubber chicken would be for good luck.

            “Anyone can be caught on a camera,” Phoenix pointed out as he crossed his arms. “But the blue dye will really catch the culprit! Can’t miss someone with a bunch of blue!”

            Is that why he wears a blue suit for court…? He’s a good-looking guy but sometimes he’s a little out there in the head…

            “I have a regular mail carrier, you know!” Maya snapped at him, finally getting angry. “And what about guests that drop by?”

            Phoenix grimaced. “Shit… I forgot about that…”

            “‘Plan B’, Daddy?” Trucy offered sadly.

            “Yeah…”

            A piece of mail went through the mail slot, causing Trucy’s contraption to go off. The loud scream of the mail carrier pierced their ears as Maya opened the door. A large man was in front of the door, a large splotch of blue die on his face and on his mail carrier uniform.

            “Ohmygosh, Mr. Carrison!” Maya gasped in shock. “I’m so sorry…!”

            All the mail carrier did was hand the rest of her mail personally, one of them a personal letter and told her a young man from downstairs handed it to him to give to her, turned his heel, and left. Maya stood in her doorway dumbfounded as the letter was in her hand.

            “I’ll… deduct the cleaning bill you’re going to pay for from your legal fees…?” Phoenix meekly offered.

            Maya only looked at the letter in her hand – again it was her name and no address. It was the same handwriting from her stalker.

**

Maya sat in a bookstore at a table with a stack of books next to her – it was the last one in her series she had written, and the store asked her to do a signing.

            It was a smaller store – and she loved going to the smaller places to help them boost their business. When it was a little slower, she was typing on her laptop, working on the next book in her series, sipping on green tea with a bit of honey.

            “Can you sign a book for me, Ms. Maya?” a familiar small voice asked.

            Maya looked up from her laptop to see a familiar pink top hat. Trucy was bobbing up and down, clutching in her hands the first book in Maya’s series. Phoenix was standing behind Trucy, him glancing slightly away.

            “Oh, of course Trucy!” Maya said excitedly to the young girl. “Is this the first time you’re reading one of them?”

            “Yes, it is!” Trucy squealed giddily. “I really like the TV show! But Daddy says that the books are always better then the movie or show!”

            Maya glanced over to him. “Did he now?” she asked with a small smile. “Well… your daddy is ‘Wright’.” She gave Trucy a small wink, which caused the young girl to giggle and Phoenix to roll his eyes, but Maya saw the smirk on his face.

            “Thank you, Ms. Maya!” Trucy said happily as she took her newly signed book and trotted away.

            Maya closed her laptop and pushed it aside. “So, how did you know I was going to be here?” she asked Phoenix when she noticed he didn’t immediately follow her. She gave a devious smirk, “Am I sure you’re not my stalker and trying to just make a quick buck off of me by being my lawyer?”

            Phoenix gave her an exasperated look. “Oh, ha ha…” he sarcastically laughed. “As much as that would amuse you, Trucy learned about this event from her school.”

            Maya raised a brow, knowing that there was more.

            “And Mia mentioned it too.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

            When Maya was about to say something smart back at him, there was a small commotion of someone stumbling through the aisleways. Someone was knocking into the bookshelves, some books falling to the ground and being kicked away. In the person’s arms was an array of different balloons and an arrangement of flowers.

            “Got a special delivery for a Ms. Maya Fey,” the person announced, a male voice. He began setting stuff on the table and he immediately gawked at Phoenix. “Yo, Nick! How have ya been!?”

            “LARRY!?” Phoenix shouted in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here!?” he then demanded.

            Larry gestured at the items as though it were obvious. “Uh… delivering?”

            The delivery man, Larry, was tall and lanky, his light brown hair sticking off to his right side messily, and his goatee was kept neatly trimmed. He was wearing a navy-blue jacket with a logo on it that depicted him from a delivery service along with wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers.

            “Oh, hi again…” Maya greeted with a small wave, she looked slightly nervous and offput.

            Phoenix shot her a look. “You’ve… met him before…?”

            Maya gave a shrug. “He’s always the one that delivers this stuff at my events…” she informed him as she looked for the sender’s card.

            “Well, I’m off!” Larry announced with a grin. “More deliveries!” He promptly left.

            Maya grimaced as she saw the card with the handwriting. “Really!?” she gasped in shock. “Again!? Why…!?”

            Phoenix then took the card from her and for once really examined the handwriting. His eyes immediately furrowed in anger. “Oh… that son of a bitch!” he growled.

            Maya jumped at Phoenix’s tone. “Um… hey… what’s the matter…?” she then asked him gently.

            “I know this handwriting…!” Phoenix told her, his voice tight. “Can you watch Trucy for me for a… an hour or two?”

            Maya glanced over at Trucy, who was sitting at a table a few feet away happily reading.

            “Yeah… I can watch her…”

            “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

📓📓📓

Phoenix was pounding on Larry Butz’s door – his fist repeatedly colliding against the wood.

            He had run back to his apartment and dressed in his blue suit and grabbed his briefcase. As he heard Larry grumble that he was on his way to the door, Phoenix adjusted his tie with his now sore hand. It was taking everything he had not to bulldoze his way through into the apartment.

            The door opened and Larry appeared, no longer in the delivery “uniform” but in his light orange jacket and white t-shirt combo.

            “Oh, hey, Nick!” Larry greeted him with his dopey smile. “What’s up, man?” Phoenix then proceeded to pull out a letter from his briefcase and handed it to Larry. “Uh… what is this, Bro?”

            “A restraining order,” Phoenix lowly said. “Follow it very well.”

            “A… restraining order!?” Larry squawked in shock as he began to read it. “From Maya Fey!?” He looked up at Phoenix. “Aww… dude… why? She’s so cute!”

            Phoenix glared at him with a clenched jaw. “Stalking,” he simply said.

            “S-Stalking!?” Larry sputtered. “I-I have never done that!”

            Phoenix gave a wolf-like smile. “Oh… really?” he simply asked. He then proceeded to pull out the few letters of many that Maya had received over the last six months. “Then what are these?”

            “Anyone can send letters, Nick,” Larry huffed, crossing his arms.

            “With the same handwriting as you!?” Phoenix demanded angrily. “No address to her whatsoever!? Flowers and gifts at every event she has!? And you happen to be the delivery driver!?” He then pulled out another record that he pulled up at his work laptop at home and printed before coming to the apartment. “Let’s see… you started your delivery job… oh wow… six months ago…! But you were fired after tapping into addresses for personal gain.”

            Larry’s brown eyes widened. “Hey, man!” he shouted as he threw open his door wider. “Everyone at that job did that, not just me!”

            Phoenix scoffed, “Yet, you’re the only idiot that was caught?”

            “Dude!”

            “Don’t ‘Dude’ me!” Phoenix screamed, throwing his papers at Larry. “You were stalking her! For what!?”

            Larry scratched his cheek. “Well… she’s pretty cute… I’ve said ‘hi’ to her, but she really didn’t want to talk to me… so I expressed my feelings through letters…” he explained in a small voice, putting his two forefingers together.

            Phoenix wanted nothing more than to punch Larry in the face.

            “Why are you caught up with her anyways, Nick!?” Larry then demanded. “You seemed pretty cozy with her!”

            “I’m her lawyer!” Phoenix explained, his face flushing red.

            “Oh, people’s lawyers just go to their events with their daughters and buy their stuff!?” Larry threw in his face. “And go to their lofts to hang out off the clock? I think I recall you mentioning you thought she was a nice little thing a few years ago when you first met her!”

            Phoenix had enough and punched Larry in the jaw. “You’re talking about my boss’s little sister!” he shouted, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

            “Dude… what the fuck…!” Larry groaned in pain, rubbing his face.

            “Follow… that restraining order!” Phoenix growled through clenched teeth. “Or you’re going to jail, Butz.”

📓📓📓

“That description sounds a lot like my Daddy!”

            Trucy was reading over Maya’s shoulder of what she was typing on her laptop. Maya’s face immediately turned crimson as she slammed her laptop shut.

            “What…!?” the raven-hair author stammered. “N-No, it isn’t!”

            Trucy crossed her arms and looked slightly to the right. “Ms. Maya, that was a terrible lie…” the young girl pointed out. “You clutch at the hem of your shirt when you lie… you know that right?”

            Maya just stared at the young girl with wide, dark blue eyes. “Uh…”

            “My little girl is perceptive,” Phoenix’s voice interrupted as he joined her at her small table.

            “Oh, you’re back!” Maya said happily, a smile on her face. She then noticed that Phoenix was cradling his hand. “What did you do…?”

            “That asshole stalker isn’t going to bother you anymore…” Phoenix muttered. “Just like I said…”

            Maya gaped at him. “What… did you do…?” she repeated, this time her voice stern, trying to sound like her sister.

            “I punched Larry in his damn face,” Phoenix nonchalantly said.

            Maya put her face in her hands. “Nick… why…?” she whispered.

            “I gave him the restraining order first…” he pointed out.

            “Then you should’ve left it at that!” she insisted, her voice going high.

            “Not when he was going on about trying to validate why he was doing it!”

            Maya then slapped Phoenix’s now swollen hand. The attorney hissed in pain and tears sprung into his eyes. “That’s what you get!” she scolded him angrily. “You big dummy!”

            “OW!” Phoenix whined, him bringing his hand to his chest.

            Tears were Maya’s eyes too. “But… at the same time…” she then whispered softly, just barely loud enough for Phoenix to hear. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…” She then took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. She leaned forward across the table and pressed her lips against his. “Thank you…” she softly said.

            “Is that a tip for my great service or…?” Phoenix murmured against her lips with a smirk.

            “That’s later…”

            Trucy then sprung up between them from the side of the table. “As much as I want a new mommy, Daddy, this is gross as I am ten,” she told him, her hands on her hips.

            “TRUCY!” Phoenix yelped as he jolted backwards, his chair tipping as he collapsed onto the ground.

**

Ten months later and a new book in Maya’s series was released – it being the conclusion.

            Either consciously or subconsciously she had written this plot based on her recent events. It was about a spirit medium who had gone and met a man from a samurai village – who wasn’t a samurai that studied fighting physically but studied law instead. The young maiden got herself into trouble with another samurai who tried to entice her with nice gifts and sweet written words, but she refused the advances as the other samurai was an unknown entity.

            The samurai who studied law offered his services to the young spirit medium, along with his young daughter who studied magic, to find the culprit who was causing the maiden such distress. Come to find out, it was the friend of the law samurai – and the betrayal caused a duel to the death where the stalking samurai was slain as the law samurai was passionate for the maiden and wanted her protected. After the duel, the law samurai asked the spirit medium’s hand in marriage, and it was accepted.

            “You know, they’re calling this your weakest work,” Phoenix commented after reading a review from an online blog.

            Maya, who was sitting on one of the red couches at Fey and Co. Law Offices with Trucy, braiding the young girl’s hair, only gave a shrug.

            “They just have to read in-between the lines,” she huffed with a smile. “And… done!” She informed Trucy that her hair was done, and the small girl jumped off the couch excitedly.

            “Thank you, Maya!” Trucy said happily as she ran off to the reception area of the office.

            Phoenix gave a smile as he saw his daughter run off. He looked back at his laptop. “They don’t know if they want to include this one in the next season of the show…” he remarked to Maya. “I think it’s the best one!” He gave her a large smile.

            Maya rolled her eyes. “That’s because the main male is based off of you, you dummy,” she laughed at him as she poked his cheek when she approached his desk.

            “Needs more law though…” Phoenix commented with a sigh. “I can help in that department…”

            Maya gave a small glance down to him. “Well maybe in the mini novella…” she pointed out. “We can add a court scene to it…”

            “Oh…!” Phoenix beamed happily. “That would be fun!”

            “And… there might be a surprise in there too.” She then grabbed his hand that was on his desk and placed it gently on her stomach.

            “And… what…?” he asked in confusion. “Are you hungry…?”

            She gave him a hard glare. “No…” Then she gave it a second thought. “Well… yeah, I am… but that’s not what I’m trying to say!”

            Phoenix raised a brow. “Okay… maybe spell it out for me…?” he told her. “I need some incriminating evidence on what you’re trying to tell me here, hon…”

            Maya dropped his hand from her stomach and stalked over to her purse and began to search. When she found what she was looking for she threw it as hard as she could to Phoenix with a loud “TAKE THAT!”

            A white stick smacked him across the face and landed on his lap. As he picked it up and looked at it Trucy came back into the main part of the office with Mia in tow, her excitedly talking about a magic show performance she was going to do.

            “Wait… your pregnant!?” Phoenix shouted at Maya in shock, finally clicking together what she had been alluding to.

            A loud squeal erupted from the young girl in excitement as she literally tossed Mia’s hand away from her own. “A new main character, yay!” Trucy cheered as she ran up to Maya and threw her arms around her gently, her cheek affectionately on Maya’s still flat stomach.

            “Yes, Nick…!” Maya happily informed as Phoenix had gotten up from his desk and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, burying Trucy between them.

            “Daddy…!” Trucy complained. “I can’t breathe…!”

            Mia gave a small smirk as she went to her desk, happily eyeing the small, but growing family. “Can’t wait to pre-order that book,” she laughed blissfully.

Notes:

- Will I ever expand upon this? Perhaps... I enjoyed this concept. - Why did I choose Larry as the "antagonist"? Because... Larry. Think about it, in the FIRST GAME WITH THE FIRST CASE he went to Cindy Stone's apartment and was trying to bug her when it was obvious she was no longer interested in him. He is superficial when it comes to dating. In "Trials and Tribulations" he had even mentioned the reason why he wasn't in "Justice for All" was because he FOLLOWED A GIRL TO JAPAN and he was dumped. In the games he's not "creepy stalker level", but he had potential to get there, he was just "dumbass energy". - In this fic I would say Phoenix is about 28-29 while Maya is about 21-22.

#ace attorney #ace attorney fandom #fanfiction #a03 fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #naruhodō ryūichi #phoenix wright #phoenix wright ace attorney #apollo justice ace attorney #phoenix wright ace attorney trilogy #maya fey #ayasato mayoi #mia fey #larry butz #narumayo #au agust #writer au #author au #alternate universe #canon divergent au #trucy wright #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 writer #au gust 2023 #au gust #au august #day 3 writer #au august 2023 day 3 #au gust day 3

[seths-wife]

I always thought the incident with Shaw was less "Mikina was greedy so her greed powers activated" and more that her emotions unwittingly triggered her contractor powers. Like, other contractors can use their abilities outside of their respective sin (like Venomania and Ney, who used their powers in combat), so why can't it be the same for Mikina? Why assume that mothy is calling her "greedy" during the scene, rather than just unintentionally using the powers her contract gives her?

Thanks for asking, always appreciated! In order to use the "demonic" powers in evillious you need to have a certain grade of compatibility with the "demon" you have contracted with.

The more "compatible" you are with the "demon", the more powerful you will be.

Compatibility and the degree of power you can unleash in the contract goes hand in hand, in the series.

It all comes down to the host natural predisposition to the "sins of the series".

“Between demons and their contractors there is a concept called ‘compatibility’. If it’s favorable, then they can utilize our abilities more powerfully—If >auntie Rahab’s theory is correct, then your enemies are most likely targeting the contractors who had the best compatibility with their respective demon.” ("master of the heavenly yard" novel, chapter 3, scene 4).

In Mikina's case, who has contracted with Salem Dunbar (knowing that or not, it doesn't matter, the dynamic is exactly the same one)...in order for her to use those powers to a certain degree, she must have had at least a little bit of compatibility with Salem, the "demon of greed".

That means that Mikina must have been (to a certain degree) "greedy", in order to unleash her powers.

There are exceptions to this general rule: the "demon" in a vessel can also arbitrarily decide to give a host powers, regardless of lack of compatibility.

That has happened in "fifth pierrot", when Gumillia has contracted with Seth.

In the novel, Gumillia is stated to have "no anger"; therefore, you may assume, she wouldn't get any powers for lack of compatibility; in fact, Adam (a non-demon) couldn't have handed Gumilla powers without it (for lack of compatibility). In a sense, Adam is bound to the general rule of compatibility.

But Seth, as the "actual demon" in the series, is different. Apparently, he had been able to forge a contract with Gumillia and give her powers, despite of the lack of compatibility (so defying the general rule).

…Ah, that’s it. I see. You say she has no “anger”.

Without that, you can’t lend her any power.

Inconvenient, isn’t it?

You are after all more akin to a parasitic roundworm leeching off the vessel.

If that’s the case—is this my turn?

I suppose that’s alright on occasion.

("fifth pierrot" part 2, chapter 2, scene 3).

In a way, this is a sub-rule.

In the general case, a "demon" in the series can hand out powers in strict relation to the compatibility of the host.

But...if they choose to, they can also defy this general rule and choose to dispense the powers, uncaring if the host is uncompatible.

Or...they can decide to withold those same powers as they please, regardless of compatibility.

Here comes Ney's case, one you have referenced in your ask. About that case, akuno has said something interesting in his q&a in the "waltz of evil" data book.

“Gluttony” is able to enslave dead bodies, so it has no need to transform the contractor in order to use its power. It has physical strength that is second only to “pride”, but perhaps due to its whimsical nature it seldom grants its contractor full use of its power. In the climax of the fourth installment of “daughter of evil” Ney was, in actuality, fighting almost entirely with just her own natural power, though she didn’t realize that fact. ("waltz of evil", q&a).

Apparently, "because of her whimsical nature", Banica decides to withold power from Ney, making her essentially fight on her own (probably because Banica thought that Ney was capable on her own).

It would be very funny to me if the only power Banica gave her in the novel was the dress change, the pretty cure transformation. Maybe that's really the case.

So, here is another exception to the general rule: the "demons" in the evillious chronicles are able to dispense or withold powers, as they please, if they want to (regardless of compatibility).

Notice how those exception are brought forth specifically by Seth and Banica, the only two "demons" that explicitly refuse to follow the rules the other "demons" in the series respect, along with the general speech they make: "give over everything".

Seth:

Well then, shall I try talking to her?

What was it again? “Give over everything”?

…No, I think I’d rather speak with my own words.

I’ll do as I do— ("fifth pierrot" part 2, chapter 2, scene 3).

About Banica, try reading the "seven crimes and punishment" short story, the "gluttony" chapter, scene 2.

At one point there, Banica refuses to return to her vessel (as generally the other "demons" do, when they are not possessing people) because "she has no obligation to obey their (the demons) kind".

For that, I think that Seth and Banica are not to be really held as the standard of the evillious "demonic working", for they constantly say "fuck the rules" and do whatever the hell they want, anyway.

Then there's Allen, he can defy the general rules too by using the vessels' powers without need for compatibily.

“'Grim the end' is normally one of the ‘vessels of deadly sin’, and one needs ‘anger’ to make use of its power.

There’s no worry of you getting possessed by a demon as there is no demon inside it currently, and as you are a special being there’s no need for ‘anger’ in your case. (Behemo to Allen in "tailor of enbizaka" novel, chapter 3, scene 6).

That's another funny subject, though. Allen is just too op in the series, he's even more irregular than all the other irregulars, for some unspecified reason, he's even more op than Riliane, his twin and another irregular...for plot reasons, I guess.

So...what about Mikina?

Salem is a standard demon, using the same "give over everything" formula and abiding to the general rules, including the compatibility rule: throughout "praefacio of blue", Salem never shows to step out from the standard "demon" model Gilles, Vlad, Marie and partially Rahab (she is already more rebellious when it comes to rules, but that's another subject) also use.

This means, that yes, Mikina is actually associated to "greed" to some degree, even if she is a minor contractor, therefore she doesn't have maximum compatibility to Salem...thus she's not as naturally greedy as Gallerian, a main contractor.

(Though, Gallerian is also a special case because he has never contracted to Salem; that's yet another subject).

Still, the point stands: if Mikina hadn't had "greed" inside her heart, then Mikina couldn't have unleashed the "blue flames" to kill her father.

Now, can it be that Mikina's greed comes from something else than wanting to keep the child for herself and that when she has killed her family, that has happened because of her "strong emotions" and not greed?

We know that akuno definitely wants to make Mikina a greedy character (albeit, to a minor level compared to Gallerian, probably).

Now, the other question is: "where does Mikina's greed comes from?"

From her backstory, (in "prefacio of blue", chapter 4, section 2, scene 2), we get that the main reason for Mikina to seek the abortion in the first place has been "the financial difficulties, making her unable to raise another child".

That may lead to think that Mikina's "greed" is actually her willingness to have more money and improve her and Keel's financial situation (to be honest, even in such a case, that would also clash with what greed is: it's not a simple desire to have the resources you need to raise a child; that would be reasonable. If you're having tangible trouble and need help, and would like to get help, that's not greed, it's a simple need for an objective hardship).

Greed, on the other hand, is aspiring to want more than what you actually need, become attached and develop an idolatrous love for money and materialistic possessions, usually at the expense of others. Greedy men and women already have what they need to live, but they want more because they love the possessions and the money.

So, is the "greed" of Mikina actually her willingness to improve on her financial situation?

It can be, but I still think that the author wants to convey the message that Mikina taking her own child for herself (refusing to hand her out to her parents) is "greed".

For instance, isn't it a little bit timely for the "greed" powers to activate exactly when she has spoken the words: "Shaw is mine"? (Symbolising her strong desire to keep the child for herself and her insistence not to hand him out to her father, "resisting him violently", as the novel goes).

"Shaw is mine" is also written in bold, as to mark the importance of the sentence (at least in the translation, but I think there must have been something similar in the original novels, I hope).

I think that definitely has to do with "greed", probably implying that Mikina has spoken those words not out of "concern and care for Shaw", but rather for the mere "desire to have him", as I speculated at the end of the last post.

Mikina has wanted "ownership", not mere "protection" as also someone has pointed out to me.

Still...even so.

I think that the desire for a mother to keep her own child to herself (after she had wanted to have him so much, in spite of the sad financial circumnstances) is not really "greed".

I think it's natural for a mother to desire to hold her own child and not wanting to hand him out to anyone else, especially after she had desired him so much.

It's not like she has desired for someone else's child and planned to kidnap them, has she? That would be different.

Remember how Mikina, in her way to get the abortion (as she had deemed it the only option, because of the lack of funds to raise her child) has cried the entire time, until she inadvertedly has fallen off a cliff. She has felt strongly for her own son from the start, and obviously wouldn't want to lose him to her parents with weird pretenses, as they have taken advantage of the fact that the husband hasn't been there to confront them too.

Also, I don't think that powers just activate independently from the "sin" of the series.

For that, let's take Venomania's case (another one you have mentioned).

Venomania can have a "demon transformation" and he sometimes uses that to fight...

...but the use of the "demonic form" is strictly related to the sin of lust, as the duke seems be overtaken by it when the lust gets intense and hasn't entertained his desire to be with women for a certain amout of time.

According to "Ir", once he got used to dealing with it he would be able to make use of that power without having to demonically transform like he did before [talking about Lukana's kidnapping].

Only, there was a condition to being able to maintain it.

That being that he needed to have intercourse with a woman periodically. ("lunacy of the duke Venomania", chapter 2, scene 2).

In fact, if you notice by Lukana's kidnapping or, even more so, Gumina's kidnapping, Venomania "demonically transforms" when his "lust" is really great, like in the rampage to get Gumina, or to get Lukana (in that occasion continuing to transform further and further as she would reject him and he would desire for her even more).

See "lunacy of the duke Venomania", chapter 1, scene 8.

It really looks like the "demon powers" in the series activate when the "sin" is very much present in the host, even overcome by it.

Why can't it be the same for Mikina?

#evillious chronicles #evillious #mikina freezis #mikina sfarz #shaw freezis #keel freezis #sateriasis venomania #cherubim venomania #ney marlon #lukana octo #gumina glassred #seth twiright #gumillia #gumillia matsumoto

[sasukerevolution]

i got a comment on a fic i wrote a long time ago recently that said “Sakura deserves better. I read your response to other comments so I know you don't agree but it's still true.” (my comments didn’t say anything negative about sakura but they were obviously pro sasuke) and it’s been bothering me so...

i actually do think sakura deserves better! 😄 i don’t dislike sakura at all. in part one i actually really love sakura. in part two it’s like... i feel like she’s not really enough of a character for me to have strong feelings about her one way or the other? i don’t necessarily feel that her characterization died per se - i do see that she was still like responsive to stuff and changing - but she was sidelined very hard by the plot and had few opportunities to really participate. usually when sakura learned things (if she learned them at all - which she often didn’t, to a degree that really undermines her as an alleged main character of the series) it was in retrospect after whatever happened had already been dealt with and she’d just have an emotional reaction to it pretty much because there was nothing for her to do. whenever she tried to take initiative the plot would just sideline her again, using her as a segue for other characters to come in and show their stuff. so... basically sakura doesn’t have enough opportunities to do things for me to formulate an actual opinion on her. i have stronger opinions about kishimoto’s writing of her than i do of sakura herself.

that said - post-canon i really don’t like sakura - but most of the things about her that i actively dislike are non-canon to me anyway (i don’t consider anything written by someone other than kishimoto to be canon); some of the novel content and her characterization in the last. but overall i feel bad for sakura and i do think she deserved much better. but the foundations for her to have better are just like, not there in part 2. sasuke’s my favourite and my heart goes out mostly to him, and i do feel like his relationship with sakura as it stands in canon is like ten layers of messed up and hurts both of them. but i think it’s just a toxic relationship all around, i don’t see them as having an unequal power dynamic (in terms of their relationship) or clear victim.

#ramblings

[loominggaia]

Anonymous asked:

Vampire anon. Just got some more things to say and ask. I love Ivy, she’s a bitch but atleast it seemed like she actually cared about Lillian to some degree. And seeing her put her creeper husband in his place, felt so good after reading one of the most uncomfortable, painful scene I’ve ever read in a piece of literature. I just can’t stand molestation or sexual assault scenes in general, and seeing Diarrhea Dusk somehow even more fucked up form of molestation made me wanna puke.

Also I’m pissed as hell at Alaine/ Glenvar and Lukus for their dragging Lillian into their hog hunting activities! This is the LAST thing she needs after escaping her life as diarrhea dusk sex slave/ punching bag/ & food lure. And I whole heartedly agree with a commenter in Pog Bait that Including Lillian in Hog hunting can only end in disaster. She’s very immature/ highly impressionable/ has no true conventions of her own/ and doesn’t really understand the world at all.

I totally feel you, Anon. I try to be tasteful about the way I write difficult scenes like that, like I don’t want to go into any more detail than necessary. But that doesn’t make it any easier to write or read, especially if you’re sensitive to those things. I don’t want to shy away from those dark subjects because that would feel...forced? Disingenuous? I don’t know, it wouldn’t feel honest to exclude it completely. Even though Looming Gaia is a fantasy world, I still want it to feel “real” and lifelike in its own context. The characters deal with the same things people in real life do, and I feel like that’s what makes them feel more alive.

BUT at the same time, I never want to write those subjects in a way that feels exploitive/masturbatory. And I don’t mean masturbatory in a strictly sexual sense, but in a “misery porn” sense, where characters suffer just for the sake of suffering. I hate that crap. If they suffer, I want it to make sense in the context of their situation and play a role in their future development.

All that said, I agree about Ivy too! She’s supremely fucked up in her own ways, but she’s practically a saint compared to Dario and the rest of the Dusks. Aunt Vivi didn’t seem so bad either, she was probably the nicest one in that castle. I have a feeling she didn’t subscribe to Dario’s cult-think and was probably just tagging along because she had no other choice. Aunt Mystique was definitely chugging Dario’s kool-aid by the pitcher though, and Cousin Dimitri was just a creepy little freak who was gunning to fill Dario’s shoes one day (and he probably would have eventually, if things went a little differently...). At least Lilian had 1 or 2 people in that household who were like...almost semi-normal. Kind of. I imagine their kindness went really far with her.

As for Alaine, Lukas, and Glenvar, they’re...doing their best. But oh god they are just so ignorant. They think they’re helping Lilian by teaching her to defend herself and “giving her confidence”, but they just don’t realize the extent of what she’s been through and how this might re-traumatize her. They’re vaguely aware that her ex-husband was a controlling dick who smacked her around, but only Zeffer knows that her situation was straight up horror-novel material. He tries to explain to them, but the FGG thinks he’s kind of nuts so they tend not to put much stock in what he says. Not like he’s equipped to help her either--he’s so fucked up he can’t even help himself. He knows she needs special care, but he doesn’t even know where to begin finding it.

Alaine thinks hog-hunting will help Lilian reclaim her sense of power the way it helped her. After all, both Alaine and Lilian were brainwashed and oppressed by tyrants. Likewise, Lukas knows that Lilian suffered sexual slavery just like he did, and Glenvar knows she was thrust into a world she wasn’t prepared for just like he was. Hunting “bad guys” makes them feel better, so why wouldn’t it help her?

That’s their logic, but little do they realize not everyone heals the same way and Lilian can’t just jump back on her feet like they did. Unlike them, she was never standing to begin with. She’s just barely beginning to learn that standing is an option.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askliterature #asklilian #askivy #askdario #askalaine #askglenvar #asklukas

[booksandwords]

Perfect Catch by N.R. Walker

Read time: 2 Days Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: I lay there until I fell asleep, wrapped in the arms of a man I loved and would probably never get to have. — Cal

Perfect Catch is the story of twenty-four-year-olds Calvin 'Cal' Lynch and Troy Hoffman, best friends since they were fourteen. It's the realisation of their chemistry, a decade of tension and want and the maintenance of their emotions in the wake of the change in their relationship all wrapped up with N.R.'s typical writing style and a sense of wonderful humour. There is a degree of awareness to the whole book that I appreciated. Like the best friend to lovers trope being called out, Cal and Troy know they are the stereotypical example of a trope. The humour used is fun and right. I like the characters. It feels a little like Arctic Fire in the limited cast and tent and full-blown intimacy. However, that works on entirely different core premises (I do so love it 😘). Perfect Catch is just cute af, it's low anxiety, best friend to lovers done right.

The slow reveals of the characters was an effective choice. Cal goes from being anxious and questioning in the first half to the driving force, confident and self-assured in the second. He's not a flawed narrator per se but he perhaps is unaware of his own convictions at first. Troy is endearing, human. The sort of character that is common in NR's novels. It is a narrative that moves fast but not illogically so. Their actions and the speed of them are backed by their preexisting relationship, connection and character traits. Such as Cal's relatable love of Steve McGarrett, which is tied to his love of Troy. Jesus, I so did that (though with different characters, and actors). The choice to include the conversation of what-ifs felt like it really was necessary given their hardcore feelings for each other.

Have a collection of quotes and notes • Total random note... Interesting choice of beer. • I adore Peta and Cal's relationship. Sparkie and Chippie as nicknames are perfect choices. Also, bless any author who gives us a female tradie. Peta gives as good as she gets and I'm here for it. • This particular book is set in outside a country town called Claremont (there are two, one in Western Australia and one in Tasmania neither align well to this location). • My folks were okay with it; well, my mum and sister were fine with it. I think my dad was just relieved I was still a man’s man. I was still keen to do my building apprenticeship and was one of the hardest hitting guys on our rugby team. I think my old man thought all gay men had a swish to their hips. But when he realised it didn’t change a single thing about me, he said he was fine with it. I had to wonder if he’d still accept me if I was more flamboyant. I’d never really thought parents’ love should have limits, but apparently my dad’s might have. — Well hellllooo toxic masculinity. Goddamn homophobia. Australia well and truly sucks sometimes. Because all Aussies know at least one guy who is considered a blokes bloke like that. I do of course know it's not exclusive to us. (Cal) • I knew that smile. It was his gone-fishin’ smile, his “weekend away with no mobile phone service” smile. Possibly even his “Friday night footy and pizza” smile. It was contagious. — I adore this. Just that knowing someone so well that you know their moods, their smiles. It doesn't have to be romantic, it can be a purely platonic connection, though it is of course heavily romantically coded here. Even if Cal and Troy are both entirely blind to the subtones of it. (Cal) • I longed to touch him, to have him touch me in return. I wanted him, but more than that, I wanted him to want me. I ached for it. — I don't know what it is about this that makes my stomach swoop. Because I remember this feeling, but it is uncommon to be reminded of that. (Cal) • Because, even if it turned out Troy would not, or could not, ever be interested in me, it was too late for me. I was in love with him. I had been for years. Was I supposed to risk it all? Was I supposed to tell him how I felt? Because it was getting to the point where I couldn’t keep pretending I wasn’t in love with my best friend. I didn’t have a choice anymore. I had to either tell him or walk away. And I couldn’t be the one to say goodbye. — There is so much desperation and emotion in this one section. It's a stark realisation. Cal is so painfully sweet. I felt this like a punch. (Cal) • He pulled off. “Look at me when I suck your dick.” His words and his tone almost made me come. I did as he demanded, leaning up on my elbows, and when our gazes locked, he slowly opened his mouth and took me in again. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered. “Troy.” — This exchange struck me, not because it is A moment but because I've read quite a bit of N.R. over the last year. This isn't her usual game. Honestly, it's one step off exhibitionism, not something I've seen her play with, that kind of kink. But for Cal and Troy, it feels more like a deep extension of their intimacy. Troy's need for intimacy. (Troy and Cal) • “I know. And that’s what I’m scared of,” he said. He looked away, out the kitchen window, like looking at me was too hard. “Scared of what?” His gaze shot to mine. “Of losing what we have,” he said. “Of risking it all. You’ve been my best friend forever, and I don’t know what I’d do without you, and that scares me.” — This is a key element of friends to loves, especially best friends to loves. Think of it as Schrodinger's cat relationship. stellarstacey put it really well in her buddie fanfic Buck's New Tattoo "I’m tired of being alive and dead with you. I’m so scared to mess up what we already have that I’m sacrificing what we could have. I wanna open the box on us." • “Now, if we’re going to do the whole best friends-to-lovers thing, we’d better go about it properly, yeah?” That made me smile. “I thought we crossed that line already.” “We frotted the line.” I burst out laughing. “Then we better cross it more thoroughly.” Troy chuckled, then with a deep breath, he took my hand. “If we do this, we can’t go back.” “I know.” “No regrets?” “No regrets.” — This made me laugh. This is a moment of full awareness of the trope. (Troy and Cal)

I keep coming back to N.R. Walker. I need a book I can read easily on a busy day which could include lots of disrupted reading I've found N.R.'s are brilliant for that. Engaging enough that you want to know how the characters get where they need to be for their happiness but written in such a way that you can pick it up and put it down without getting lost. This Perceft Catch is a prime example of her work, set in Australia with a minimal cast happiness galore. I will never complain about it.

#perfect catch #n.r. walker #readaustralian #friends-to-lovers #book review #read 2022 #ktreviews #booklr #lgbtq

[automatismoateo]

My son got involved with a Christian fundamentalist....I'm devastated via /r/atheism

My son got involved with a Christian fundamentalist....I'm devastated

This is a long story but I'll try to make it brief . Son was friends with a kid, and we became friends with the family. I knew they were religious, but didn't understand the extreme nature of it. Here are their beliefs:

women don't speak in bible meetings

don't go to church only have "meetings" in their home twice a week

women have to cover their head in "meeting"

no dancing, music, novels or other kids' books when they were younger....nothing the father doesn't approve first.

no tv, movies, theatres

no birthdays

no holidays except for Thanksgiving

no eating with Mormons

women not allowed to wear pants

No psychological counseling ever....just lift it up to the lord and it will be fine

women very submissive and the wife has to ask permission to go out and is told when to be home. She wasn't allowed to visit a cousin in Florida without waiting 2 weeks for her husband to "allow" her to do it, and she wasn't allowed to miss a Wed or Sunday meeting for it. She has a cousin 2 hours away and has to ask permission to see her also, being told she has to be home by 6pm. She was forced to go to the community college to get a degree. She is told how to manage her diabetes and has to sneak an extra glucose tablet when her sugar is low because he only wants her to have one ....lots of bizarre shit.

Now I know I should have seen red flags, but my son was 15 and liked to hang out with his friend and they kept pushing for him to attend a wed. night "meeting" and I didn't see the harm in it. Now he is 21, in love with the friend's sister, the friend he had (now 23) was kicked out and "shunned" because he was drinking and lost his job (they don't believe in psychological counseling remember). The son was very very depressed and suicidal and they wouldn't help him just told him to pray about it. MY son has bought into it hook line and sinker and I believe it hit him at a vulnerable time in his life and was what he "needed" at the time. He is a very intense, deep, person with a very strong personality and I think it was the equivalent of some therapy for him. It makes him feel special, it makes him feel loved unconditionally, it gives him lots of attention (they love him over there...he has a sparkling personality), it makes him feel superior, it's an escape from family problems, etc.

The family are all arrogant people...intrusive, overbearing and invasive in a way. I stopped being friends with them but now he is caught up in this family and religion.

He would not even spend mothers day breakfast with us (a tradition) this year because the "lord" comes first, not family any longer. He was kind and attentive the rest of the day, but he has changed so much in this regard...family and especially his mother was a huge priority for him.

I am devastated and scared that I won't ever get my son back to the way he was. We are still close, and he is very loving to me, but there is no question that this has changed him and not for the better. He is very hypocritical, by the way....there is no way to live the way they profess is a "godly" way in today's world. He has been deceitful (minor things), he manipulates people, he is arrogant (zero humility!), he is very materialistic, he has bullied his brother and is very very mean to him, etc.

When I was having a bout of depression and told him I needed help and wanted to see a doctor, he told me that all I needed to do was accept the lord Jesus into my heart. I said how does that work? So no one has to do anything to help themselves and just need to pray about it? I also told him I had suffered with depression my whole life on and off and used to believe in god and prayed my whole life for relief and his answer was that I didn't do it right or say the right words (I accept Jesus into my heart as my lord and savior?). So I asked him if he wanted to believe in a god that would let someone suffer EVEN a believer that was a GOOD person her whole life because I didn't say the right words? And why does your friend's mother take insulin for her diabetes? Why doesn't everyone just sit in the corner and wait for god to give you everything you need once you are "saved".?

I'm pretty much in shock and in total disbelief that this has hijacked his brain this way. Now him and this girl and her sister and parents are judging my OTHER son, who considers himself a Christian by the way, because he is not the exact brand of Christianity that they are, which is the only correct one of course. Lucky him that he found the exact right one right?

I have read about what religion does to your brain, what types of people are drawn to it, what fundamentalism is, the psychology of it, etc. They are pretty much Open Brethren from what I gather, although they tricked me into thinking they were just run of the mill Christians because they never name themselves or belong to a church, etc.

My son is a goner, right? He can't come back from this intense conditioning? I hope (almost said pray) that all the kids will grow up and look back and reject the abusive mentality they were raised with. It was abusive with endless spanking for non compliance, not being allowed to show negative emotions (her kids weren't allowed to yell, cry and now the younger daughter has bad anxiety that she tries to hide but told me about it one day) they weren't allowed to do many things. But they don't seem to question any of it and the older girl is 22 and still allows her father to dictate her life and she isn't allowed to do a lot of things.

I'm angry at myself for allowing this to begin with. I cut ties with the wife as my friend when she would answer everything I wanted to talk about in my life with "accept Jesus". But now my son is so far gone down the rabbit hole and I don't want to give up on him because I love him so much.

They have taken over my son and I hate them. They had no right and I blame myself for allowing it, but they had no right to indoctrinate him this way.

Screw religious fundamentalism.

Submitted June 01, 2022 at 10:54PM by strollergirl (From Reddit https://ift.tt/lkISU3O)

#reddit

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

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[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, chapter 1

Novel decided to do Adrienette April on a whim. Each post until the end of April (or such is the plan) will have 3 prompts in it.

She also discovered she’s very rusty. Bear with me here. XD

Next>>

1. AU

Marinette had thought she’d grown used to Chloe’s bullying, having to had endure it since they were little. However, with high school came a new name that became a regular part of Chloe’s vocabulary, alongside “hot” and “sexy” and “dreamboat”.

“And Marinette would never catch the eye of someone so perfect.”

Honestly, Marinette had thought she was over it, but on a particularly bad day, she’d snapped back at Chloe.

“Well, clearly he isn’t that perfect if he fawns over someone whose only redeeming quality is pretending to be pretty.”

That had led to a fire alarm getting pulled and Marinette left to blame for it. Anyone who tried to come to her defense was shut down, and Marinette had been suspended.

Which had started an all-out war.

After being stuck at home, wrongfully, for three solid days, Marinette had snapped. She’d decided that if Chloe was going to build a bonfire and poor on the gasoline that she would be there with a match. By senior year, Marinette’s record had taken a hit for it but Chloe’s reputation was in the toilet.

Marinette would take what she could get.

However, she supposed she hadn’t fully thought out the consequences. As much as she played with fire, she should have realized she’d get burned sooner or later.

And she did. Third degree.

We regret to inform you your application has been denied.

Those were words she grew tired of seeing yet came back from every school she applied to. With that in mind, she’d called up her girl friends to tell them what had happened.

“Hey, Marinette,” Alya had said upon seeing the letters. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel really bad for you. But… I did warn you—”

“I get it,” Marinette had surrendered, knowing that Alya was completely right. “You tried to warm me of the consequences, and now I’m paying for them.”

The girls had slipped into a moment of silence before Alix spoke up. “Hey, I can ask Max if he can do a little digging so you at least know why, yeah?”

Marinette had raised a brow but agreed. “Only if he’s not busy with his own college stuff.”

“Oh please, he’s too smart for college. He started up some robotics company in his free time and is already making bank on it.”

It took a week for Max to come back with a full report. Marinette had to give him props for working fast as he did.

“Hacking into the system was the first thing I could think of,” he’d explained. “In the side notes, there was mention of your attendance record and suspensions.”

“They were all wrongful suspensions,” Alix had countered.

“Doesn’t matter to the school,” Max had said with a shrug. “But even then, I thought there had to be more to this than just attendance. There were other students who had the same notes yet were accepted. So I shifted focus to digging up background on all the directors of the school. After hacking a few emails, I discovered Audrey Bourgeois happens to know a lot of directors or administration members in all the fashion schools of France. Considering the contents of most of those emails, it has become clear that Marinette was wrongfully barred from every school she’d applied to. And that there’s nothing that can be done about it because we only discovered such scandal through highly illegal means.”

“So…” Alya had begun, turning her attention to Marinette. “Where does that leave you, M?”

Marinette’s lips had pursed in thought. It was funny how things turned out, because despite her anger, she somehow had been peace with what she was faced with. “I think that the last place I want to be is in an industry full of liars and people who use their words to manipulate anyone they damn well please.”

That was how she ended up working full-time in her parents’ bakery. They never said a word about it, but she knew they were disappointed. Of course they weren’t mad about her still being here and working in the bakery with them, and she knew her parents still loved her more than anything.

But she knew that with as many dreams as she had and had shared with them, they were disappointed on her surrendering it all.

“Sorry, Maman, Papa,” she whispered into the empty kitchen as she plopped the baguettes she formed onto a baking tray. “Just give me a little time to figure things out. Seems like lofty dreams are a lot easier to crush than I realized.”

 2. Rebellion

A son can only bear the world of their parent’s expectations for so long. He wasn’t Atlas, but after a few years of acting like him, Adrien decided to dump the globe. To hell if it broke. He’d smirk in satisfaction at his father’s disappointment.

At the very least, the fact he no longer had the weight of the world of his shoulders made the far-too-common disappointment lecture easier to bear.

His strategic rebellion had started harmless enough. At sixteen with a rapidly growing forced modeling career, he’d given his father an ultimatum: he gets to grow out his hair, or it all goes. It had been shocking the amount of power the razor in his hand had given him. It was the perfect harmless threat. His father had been furious, throwing a fit about Adrien acting like a child, but after being gaslit for so long, Adrien had finally come to realize the abusive techniques for what they were. And he wasn’t going to roll over and take it any longer.

That day had ended with Adrien being grounded but ultimately the victor of their stand-off.

After that, he’d begun ditching certain events. He’d always liked fencing, so he never ditched those lessons, but attendance for his home-school lessons, mandarin lessons, and piano lessons had all been decided on a whim. His father had hardly been pleased by this, but to Adrien, that was the point. The lectures soon washed into one another so much that Adrien could practically recite the words that roll off his father’s tongue verbatim. He’d come to realize they were strategically meant to hurt. To humiliate. And as such, he’d stopped taking them personally.

Then came the fun part.

He got earrings. Honestly, Adrien hadn’t really cared for the piercings one way or another. In one way, there were a hassle, and caring for new piercings was a pain in the butt. However, they had been worth it to see his dad so royally pissed off.

Then came the ditching of certain photoshoots. There was a reason Adrien had held off on this one for so long: he cared about the people running the shoot. There was no reason they needed to be collateral in this battle between him and his father. After all, they were just employees doing their job; Adrien didn’t want them to suffer for his rebellion. With that in mind, Adrien had planned out his absences of these photoshoots. Again, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his mess, so he had always organized a replacement model. Shoot would always go on, just not as planned.

And that was enough to drive his father mad.

It always put a smile on Adrien’s face.

The last touch was an unexpected one. He hadn’t even thought about going this far. Yet, a friend of his not only put the idea in his head, but gave him the art to go with it.

“Is that a tattoo?”

Oh, how he wished he would have taken a picture of his father’s face. The large black cat surrounded in a green, wispy smoke that wrapped around his forearm was truly a work of art. He’d had to think carefully about this decision, but in the end, he quite liked it.

“Yeah. I’m eighteen; I can ink myself if I want to. Why? Is that a problem?”

Adrien might be wearing a cat on his arm, but the grin on his lips was downright wolfish.

Eventually, it all had come to a head and blew up in his face. Adrien couldn’t say he’d been surprised. In fact, he had been fully expecting it. He’d already found an apartment to rent and had begun sneaking most of his important things over there before his father could kick him out. So when Adrien found himself kicked to the curb as soon as he was handed his general education certificate, Adrien had been prepared.

But mostly, he was free.

What a joyous day it was.

However, now that he was free, he knew he needed a job. Not because he needed the money, per se, but because it was time he started acting like the average adult. He never got to go to school, so now, it was time to pick up a mundane, first job that everyone hated but would “serve him well later in life”. Mostly, it would just be something normal.

The easy places to apply were food shops and retail stores. He’d work one for a while before deciding what his next life step would be. Chloe had been quick to offer him a job at her father’s hotel, but Adrien was vehemently against the idea. Over the span of his rebellion, Chloe’s behavior and attitude towards him had grown notably worse, and he had a feeling cutting ties with her would be his next step in life.

In the end, he’d scored a job he definitely was underqualified for. He’d applied partly out of spite and partly because ‘why not?’ He’d heard about this bakery enough times from Chloe to know the “cruel bitch who did nothing but mercilessly harass her” lived here, and that was enough to pique Adrien’s curiosity. At a bakery as popular as that, though, he hadn’t been sure he’d get a call. And when he did, he knew he would do everything he could to present himself as a reliable and respectable man eager to work, but he never thought he’d end up hitting it off with the owner.

Which somehow ended up with him agreeing to work at Tom and Sabine’s Patisserie.

Going into that job, he swore to himself he would do what he could to prove himself worthy. He knew there had to have been better applicants, so Adrien didn’t want to disappoint the very kind owners who dared give him a chance. Soon, his days were spent working hard while covered in flour and surrounded by bread all day. Well, bread and all the sharp and hot objects in your average kitchen.

He just didn’t think that would include a wicked sharp and smoking hot young lady that happened to be his bosses’ daughter.

 3. Game Night

“Mama, Papa, please go. You two hardly ever get out of the house.”

Marinette watched her maman put a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone while her papa turned to her. “But I’ll be busy that night. We have a massive order scheduled for the next day.”

“I can handle that,” Marinette quickly countered with a grin. “You know I’m a night owl, anyway. I’ll get it done, and you two can go enjoy game night with your friends.”

Her parents spared each other a glance. “Are you sure about that, Marinette?” Maman asked.

“Positive. Papa already talks to the bread too much, so he really should talk to people for a change. And while you have to deal with people all day, I know you want more than to just have short conversations filled with small talk. So please, go out and have a social life for once.”

With one last look, her parents relented. With a smile, her mother took her hand off the phone. “We’ll be there.”

Papa turned to her with a grin. “I was going to spend that time teaching Adrien how to handle those orders. I can leave teaching him in your hands, right?”

Her grin fell. Adrien Agreste. What the hell a washed-out model was doing working at her parents’ bakery was beyond her. Admittedly, over the last month she’d been working with him, the most she’d say is that maybe he wasn’t too bad a guy. Papa certainly sung his praises. But that still didn’t answer the question of why he was working here of all places. After all, he was Chloe’s friend and suspected lover.

“Don’t think I don’t see that look on your face, Marinette,” her maman chastised. She’d hung up and set her phone down already, fully giving her attention to her daughter. “No matter your personal feelings, you really should give him a chance.”

“He’s a good kid,” Papa said. “Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I can tell he really does want to learn and do his best.”

Marinette sighed. This wasn’t the first time this talk had happened. She remembered having a talk with her parents after his first interview. There were a few other people who were far more qualified for the job, but Papa said he liked Adrien’s personality and spirit the best. So in the end, all Marinette’s objections had fallen upon deaf ears.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll give him a chance.”

With a smile that made Marinette loath to disappoint him, her papa patted her head affectionately. “Thank you, Marinette. I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”

Not likely. “I’ll do my best, Papa.”

“Really, Marinette,” her maman warned. “Unless you have a valid reason, you need to put aside your feelings for the sake of the bakery running smoothly. Can you manage that?”

Appropriately chastised, Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment. Maman brought up a good point: Marinette shouldn’t let her anger towards Adrien affect the bakery. Her parents didn’t deserve that. “Yes, Maman. I’m sorry.”

With a smile, her maman came up and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette hugged her back. “No, thank you, Maman and Papa, for everything. I won’t let you down.”

Papa wrapped his arms around both her and Maman. “Thank you, sweetheart. We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #AdrinetteApril2021 #AU #Marinette's kinda bitter #And Adrien's a rebel #If they're OOC I don't care #I'm writing again and just rolling with it

[keltonwrites]

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

#amwriting #newsletter #making friends #how to make new friends #adulthood #small town life

[magireco]

Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)

1. Thank you!!!!!!

2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!! 

3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to

First: Homura Akemi

okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs

Summary

first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc... 

clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka... 

this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?

anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.

i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...

i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.

anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation. 

after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...

then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.

also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about

Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy

homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them. 

homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...

In Defense Of My Own Claims

btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.

TL;DR:

homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!

#asks #luna-mistrunner #homura akemi #analysis #THIS MAY HABE TAKEN ME LIKE 2 DAYS ON AND OFF

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (4/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 5

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Mid spring shifted to the peak of summer in just three hours.

Or maybe it was less than three hours. Levi wasn’t staring at a clock though, instead enjoying the novel amenities that came with taking a private jet to their destination.

It was a far flung contrast to whatever he had gotten accustomed to in economy class. Three hours on a plane went by much faster when the plane seat could recline a whole one eighty degrees, when the food wasn’t served clumped together in aluminum packs, and when beverages in a hundred different varieties were free flowing.

By the time the plane had landed, Levi was almost disappointed that it didn’t last any longer.

“Is this your first time on anything better than the economy?”

Levi wondered what kind of ridiculous face he had made for Zeke to have taken the time out of his business mogul schedule to give out a backhand insult. Still, that had been more than enough of a reminder that maybe Levi had been overenjoying the free flowing amenities of a private jet.

Erwin had only drank one glass of wine if Levi recalled correctly. Recalling Zeke and Hange who sat a few feet away, he was sure they had drunk nothing more than two glasses of wine each over a simple cheese platter.

Levi on the other hand, had sampled at least ten of the twenty varieties of tea offered. When will you have the opportunity to try it again? He reminded himself. Still, when he was being stared down by the richest man in the country, his partner and his direct boss who were probably all used to the luxuries afforded to the top one percent, Levi became a little self conscious.

The view as Levi disembarked from the plane had only made that slight inferiority complex worse and he was wondering why he had even entertained it. He snuck a glare at Zeke, narrowing his eyes just a little more as Zeke put one arm over Hange, walking ahead just a few feet away.

“Levi, are you going down?”

Levi felt one hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Erwin, brushing past him, taking the stairs one at a time.

“Of course I am,” Levi answered. He kept his voice, casual and professional, an attempt to disguise whatever emotion was forcing his mouth agape then.

He shouldn't be gaping. It wasn't anything magnificent. It was just a country club after all.

***

It wasn’t just a country club as Levi soon found out.

The reception building was just a reception building and near the front of the desk was a map. A map of an island. Levi was starting to wonder what idiocy had overtaken him just hours ago when he had failed to even google the country club.

The airport lounge they had overnighted in. The experience of riding a private jet. Those all paled in comparison to what awaited Levi.

Although he had already willed himself to act as nonchalant as possible, his eyes had widened and he had frozen a little too quickly at the large map in front of him and he had asked too many questions. “Where do we leave our bags?” he asked.

“Not here. This is the reception building. We’re taking a car to our summer house,” Hange answered.

When they got into the car, Levi asked another question. “So we leave our bags in the summer house and then we go back here to the country club...” he trailed off as Hange frowned in confusion. Was that a stupid question?

“The summer house is part of the country club.” Hange was still answering patiently.

“I’ve heard of places like this but I have to admit, it’s my first time staying in one,” Erwin commented as if he had researched the place himself.

If he did, that meant Levi was the only clueless one left.

Rubbing salt into the wound, Zeke spoke up. “The island is the private country club, Levi.” He raised one eyebrow at Levi, studying him. His face spoke for him ‘you’ve never been to one of these before?’

Sorry, I’m poor. Levi thought to himself, giving Zeke the most mockingly apologetic yet professional face he could muster. He soon realized, it might never be possible to pull off such an expression. Abandoning all attempts, he instead bent down to do a quick google search of the island.

Levi liked to believe he was solidly middle class. After a quick search on the membership prices of staying in some country club island hybrid only to find out annual dues were a good few times above his annual income, he started to come to terms with the fact that maybe he was poor. He kept his head down. Maybe the next time he looked back up at Zeke, his face might look more apologetic than actually mocking and he couldn’t have that.

The ride took five minutes, an excruciatingly long five minutes in the same enclosed piece of metal as Zeke who had only been rubbing him off just a little wrongly since even yesterday. He had to take a few deep breaths, a few subtle ones at least.

He had to bite his lip and force his mouth up into at least a glimmer of a poker face instead of the default grimace that came with having to keep close quarters with Zeke. There were still things about the country club he didn’t understand. Maybe Erwin didn't understand them too.

Although he would have had no problem talking to Hange about it, there was one caveat to approaching her.

She was always with Zeke.

Powerless and with little to no interest in dealing with Zeke personally, Levi decided to just go with the flow, following Erwin where applicable, loitering awkwardly like a lost reed when he had no choice but to be alone. Such an approach to life had turned out to be enough at least to get Levi changed into board shorts and a white shirt, enough to get him passively settled on one of the sun chairs next to the infinity pool, reader in hand.

He wasn’t reading though. He was attempting to read and had been for the past few minutes. Everything just found a way to be distracting.

The silence, the peaceful solitude that came with staying in a country club which he didn’t pay for--- and would probably never be able to pay for anyway---had him looking up again and again for anyone who could sympathize. Erwin still hadn’t gone out to the pool area. It was expected anyway, even on weekends, Erwin liked to work.

By the time Levi had self meditated enough to not be as self conscious and by the time he had mustered enough energy to start to make sense of some of the words on the reader, he heard footsteps---a new distraction. He looked up to find Hange standing in front of him, in a one piece that accentuated her form, in light purple, a color that just made her tan skin a little brighter under the late morning sun.

And she wasn’t with Zeke. So Levi stared for a little longer, or at least he snuck enough glances. Maybe Hange noticed. Levi caught her playful grin, the way she had turned towards him, her figure getting closer and closer until Levi had to force himself to look up and pretend he hadn’t actually been staring since a while ago.

“We don’t get this weather everyday back home. You should swim,” Hange said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m in a good part of the book,” Levi said. And I wanna finish it soon. That was what he wanted to stay before he stopped himself. He was halfway to showing Hange just a little bit of what he was reading until he realized he hadn’t even moved past the title page yet. He pulled back before she could see any more.

Hange shrugged, still the hint of disappointment on her face was perceptible. “But you’ll be joining us this afternoon right?”

“What is our plan anyway?” Levi asked.

“Well, go out for a tour of the island in the afternoon, maybe go to the beach. Then after that, swimming tonight…” Hange trailed off before snapping her fingers. “Right, Zeke reserved for tea time at sunrise tomorrow!”

Tea time? Levi could feel the blood rush through his head. The tea they had served in the airport lounge, the private plane had been the most delectable ones, the most exotic ones he had tasted in his life. A new burst of energy rushed through him as he surveyed his overly luxurious surroundings.

If the lounge and the plane paled in comparison to the resort, would the tea and the variety of tea prove to be anything more?

“Hange, so about that tea time…” Levi started. Before he could even look up from his book again to answer the question, Hange screamed.

At first, it sounded shrill, like a shriek. A shriek of terror?

No, she was laughing. “Zeke! What are you doing?”

Levi had a good view of it from his place on the sun chair, a good upward view.

A very disgusting view. If Levi hadn’t been at the mercy of Zeke’s country club membership, maybe he would have told them to get a room. Maybe he would have walked away. Still, that had seemed too rude of a reaction as well. Levi put his reader in front of him, just staring at the title page for a second longer.

He couldn’t completely avoid his peripherals though and the view they were giving him were tempting. He couldn’t comprehend everything but he did capture the way Zeke had nuzzled his beard on Hange’s neck. Hange’s playful laughs weren’t so easily ignored either. He contemplated putting his fingers into his ears. Would it be rude to plug his ears with his fingers then? If he did he would have to put down his reader and he would have to see it or close his eyes.

Just imagining how he would look had him shuddering and he chose instead to freeze on the spot and stare once again at the title page of his book.

Maybe he could look away. But if he looked away, that might seem rude too. He had taken too long to ponder and just that small and very fruitless problem solving exercise had turned out useless.

Zeke eventually stopped nuzzling her. And maybe for a second he had gone for a kiss. With his peripherals, Levi’s view was limited and Zeke was moving just a little too fast.

By the time Levi had allowed himself to look up, Zeke was running barefoot towards the pool, Hange in his arms bridal style. With Zeke’s back turned on him, Levi saw that as an opportunity to stare a little longer than necessary.

He witnessed it all, the overly flamboyant movements, Hange’s laughs, her playful struggle to get out of his grip and the huge splash that came with them diving feet first into the pool.

The only solace Levi found in the whole ordeal was that the sun chair had been a good distance from the pool. That at least spared him from getting caught in the splash or from having to see anymore than he wanted to.

But even from his position a few feet away, he caught glimpses of their bodies pressed against each other. Were they kissing?

Even when he put his ebook reader just on a perfect spot to conceal their shapes in the pool, he couldn't completely avoid it. After all, Hange was still laughing. She was still talking, her voice something faint yet something still jovial from a few feet away.

Levi turned to the first page of his book, scanning over the first line, reading it once then twice. Words had a way of sucking people into worlds unknown, beyond the dreary dimension called reality.

Or they were supposed to. He needed to get past the first sentence before it could suck him in deep enough to forget Hange's laughter or the drumming baritone of Zeke’s voice.

When the first sentence included phrases like ‘truth universally acknowledged” and when the ending clause read “a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” Levi started to find it a little harder to get lost in the book.

There was a man in front of him, loud and proud, who was in possession of a good fortune. And that man had a beautiful, smart partner. There was no need to fabricate his own phantom man when there was one he could be jealous of, right in front of him.

The reader almost forgotten, Levi found himself again watching the blonde, the man in possession of a good fortune and Hange. Hange had settled by the edge of the infinity pool, her damp brown hair falling onto her shoulders, brushing her arms, as she propped her arms on the edge, leaning her upper body forward. She rested her chin on her arms and just watched the sea.

Levi was a good distance away but the angle was good. When he squinted his eyes, he saw admiration, he saw awe in Hange’s eyes. While he was barely unable to get past the first line of the book, Hange had managed to get lost in the beautiful view of the ocean in front of her.

Fast enough that Levi was almost tempted to take his shirt off, dive into the pool and join her.

If it hadn’t been for Zeke. It was the blond bearded man who had obscured his view of Hange. Hange moved a little quickly, pushing herself up from the edge to look back at Zeke.

They were talking a little more quietly. Still, Levi had become familiar enough with the baritone of Zeke’s voice, the melody in Hange’s voice, to know that they were having a dynamic yet balanced conversation, an intimate conversation. Something just for both of them.

He was getting lost in murmurs, in tones, in chuckles. He didn’t even notice his surroundings start to dim, until it had turned everything shades of blue grey and greyed green. Until Hange and Zeke had both looked up at the sky.

He looked down to find light drops had turned the parts of the first line into mush. Soon, the light drops were on his bare arms, then parts of his shirt started to stick to his back. His bangs fell heavier on his face.

“Levi, let’s go back inside, it looks like it’s gonna rain for a while,” Hange said, gesturing for him to follow her.

Why did it take him so long to realize? Levi scolded himself, slipping his ebook reader just under his shirt. It didn’t do much to help though. His shirt was already soaked.

“Well, we were only planning an hour-long swim anyway,” Zeke said from a good distance away, seeming comfortable under the cabana.

“What time is it?” Levi asked as soon as they caught up to Zeke. .

Hange checked her phone. “We’ll be having lunch in a while,”

Levi only needed to do some quick calculations to realize they had been out for an hour. And somehow, he never got past the first line of that damn book.

***

Weather could be very predictable or so that was what Levi liked to believe.

Even when the sky remained a gloomy grey and the rain continued to pour, Levi expected the rain would let up with time. The rain was hard though, forcing itself as a presence in whatever conversation they were trying to have over lunch.

It was Zeke who had enough of it first. He led everyone back to what looked to be a game room towards the other wing of the summerhouse, closing the windows, the doors, quashing the whoosh of the winds and the loud patter of the rain to some distant sound.

Having dealt with it for more than an hour over lunch, Levi had quickly gotten used to the annoying rain, that when the aircon was switched on, overpowering the faint patter of rain, he had almost been surprised.

And fucking cold. Levi only realized then, he was right under the air conditioner with nothing but a semi-wet T-shirt to protect him.

“Would you rather we didn’t turn the aircon on Levi?” Zeke asked. Those words that could have held concern but really, Levi only had to look to Zeke’s face to see nonchalance.

Zeke was paying. Levi was a mere visitor under the mercy of the paying customer so the first thing he could will out of his mouth then were the only appropriate things lowly free loading visitors would usually say. “It’s fine,” Levi stood up. “I’ll just get changed first.”

“No need, I’ll have someone get you a shirt, just change there.” Zeke pointed to the powder room at the corner.

Right, that had been the reason why Hange and Zeke weren’t at all freezing after having spent the last two hours swimming. They had changed already. Among the three of them, he had been the only one too lazy--- or maybe too embarrassed---to have requested for a towel from one of the maids.

Or even a spare shirt. He had half the mind to just lock himself in the bedroom, take a quick shower and maybe actually start on that damn romance novel he had downloaded into his reader only yesterday.

Zeke had an uncanny grin on his face. Hange and Erwin were also staring at him expectantly. “I can just get the shirt myself,” Levi said. And maybe not come back.

“I said, I’ll have one of the maids bring it over,” Zeke said. “Anything in particular you want from your room?” He reached for his cellphone on the table, unlocking it.

“Just a sweater.” And that sweater came quickly, even before it started to feel like a few minutes. Levi pulled the hoodie over himself and that had been more than enough to make the air conditioning bearable. He wasn't desperate enough to complain about the air conditioning again.

"I really hope the weather gets better. I'd hate to reschedule tea time," Zeke muttered. He made himself comfortable on the sofa next to Hange.

"As long as it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’ll be fine. The grass dries up fast anyway so even if it stops raining tonight, it won't be muddy," Hange said.

"Still, I prefer my course without the post rain atmosphere… if you know what I mean."

You get your tea in courses? Tea usually came in course anyway. Levi imagined shortbread, scones and the right mix of tea to accompany it every time. From his seat a few feet away, with his blood seething just watching that exchange, he felt no need to ask. One thing was for sure though, Hange and Zeke lived in a world far flung from his and there was no use trying to make sense of it.

He did love tea though and just imagining how weather and the state of grass could affect the quality of tea had Levi thinking a little more creatively. Some variants of tea definitely tasted better when it was raining. But tea that particularly tasted better after the rain, when the sun was up? Levi couldn't pick them out with just one thought.

But it would be nice to know which tea.... Before he could draw any more context though, Hange and Zeke had moved on from their conversation on tea time, instead approaching Erwin and Levi by the square table where the two had settled. “The rain doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon. It’d be a waste though to spend our time doing nothing. We have a few games here if you’re interested in a friendly game?” Zeke suggested.

“What do you have in mind?” Erwin asked, looking up from the book he had been reading. He closed it and Levi knew Erwin enough to figure out, whatever it was, the blond was very much interested.

“Mahjong?” Zeke looked pointedly down at the square table. “I got this table back in a trip to China… It would be a waste of money if I don’t spend more time using it.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Erwin admitted. "But I think I know enough to manage." He turned to Levi.

The expectant look was directed right on him and Levi almost jumped on his seat. "Mahjong?" He had heard of that game before. He was sure he had tried messing around with a mobile game before. He lived a good distance from China though and he never did make sense of those tiles with those random marks on them.

"That sounds like a good way to pass the time," Hänge commented. "The last time we played was with your other client…Reeves right?"

"That man almost gave me a run for my money. I'm pretty sure I only won because I collected enough flower tiles." Zeke suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his voice stocked full of ideas, there could have been a light bulb on his head. "What about we bet some money on this? Games aren’t fun unless we have some money on the line"

"Actually, I still owe you for that last game of poker we had," Hange said, a wide grin on her face.

"Erwin? What do you think? I think this a great way to build company camaraderie. Just some casual gambling… nothing more than a few hundred dollars…"

Something caught at Levi's throat. Nervousness? Tension? He had a few hundred dollars on hand, he was sure. To put them at risk over a 'casual' rainy afternoon over board games?

Everyone in the room seemed unfazed about spending a few hundred dollars though.

Erwin was the good balance between conservative and vocal in the conversation. "Let's keep it at a thousand dollar limit I'd rather we didn't play anything more over a few casual games," Erwin said. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, counting out a few hundred dollar bills and dropping it on the table in front of him.

It was just like Erwin to be prepared.

“What about you Levi? How much will you be betting?”

“Let me just get my wallet first.”

“No, I wouldn’t want you to have to make the journey all the way back to the other wing. I’ll have someone get your bag.”

A few minutes later, Levi’s bag was resting on the sofa just a few feet away and Levi was counting out bills on the table. He was the limiting factor to how much money the rest would be playing. Levi gave in to the silent pressure. The money on hand was disposable income anyway, allowance just in case he had to spend anything in the country club. Although it had been painful, Levi mustered up the courage to empty his wallet in front of them.

“Seven hundred and sixty dollars,” Levi said, counting out twenty dollar bills, fifty dollar bills and hundred dollar bills. He prepared himself for the loss. Still, a few hundred dollars was still too much.

Levi was still in the process of convincing himself that maybe spending a good hundred dollars on a good few games wasn't a bad idea. In some sort of a gamble, nobody was guaranteed a hundred percent loss. In fact he might just gain more.

Maybe it had been Levi's own tendency to play safe, his aversion to loss that had him going through the motions of sliding the money towards Zeke just a little slower than he would have wanted. Still, with a good internal scolding, he managed to raise his eyebrows and clear his throat, a loud and abrupt enough movement to get him at least somewhat focused on the tiles in front of him.

The tiles formed a wall in front of him and as Levi glanced a little further, he saw Hange had pushed her own wall in front of her. Erwin did the same. Then Zeke. A few seconds of coordination later and there was a square of tiled walls.

“Let’s keep betting simple, no flowers, no extra money for certain tiles. Just ‘if you win,’ you get the money on the table,” Zeke suggested. He counted four hundred dollars in varying bills and dropped it on the table in the middle. “You’ve played before Levi?”

Levi shook his head. “No, never.”

Zeke shrugged. “Well, you can learn as we play. Luck plays a part in mahjong anyway. Who knows you might just get the winning tile.” He rolled the dice. “Okay, you pick where we cut.”

“Pick where to cut…”

“The tiles,” Zeke said, his tone just slightly more abrasive. “Pick a tile and count.”

The hair at the back of his neck stood and instinctively, Levi looked up to meet Zeke’s stare. He placed one hand on the corner nearest to him and started counting.

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Levi, leaning on one hand, looking particularly bored. “Away from you. Not towards you.” He was talking to him like he was a kid.

Or maybe, Levi was just being an idiot at the moment. With all eyes watching his every movement thought, when he himself had little to no idea what the hell he was doing, he just wanted to freeze on the spot.

“Levi, it's like this,” Hange’s voice was a stark contrast to Zeke’s. Her sing-songy voice had been enough to get him moving again. He didn’t even notice his hand had frozen halfway through counting until Hange had clutched the back of his hand and started to guide it over the tiles. “You count away from yourself.”

Dealing the tiles was another issue altogether. He probably wouldn’t have been able to run it as smoothly as Hange. It looked more like a ritual and Hange had taken over, her hands moving deftly over the well fitted tiles. She handed him eight stacked in two rows then nine stacked similarly. She distributed them in the same manner over the table before giving him one more. “You start.”

Levi still didn’t know how to play though. But he had counted seventeen tiles and he had remembered playing it over a mobile game so he was sure it had something to do with dropping one of his tiles. He dropped the first one to the left.

“Pong!” Zeke’s voice echoed across the salon as he grabbed the tile in the center and inserted it between two of his tiles.

Levi still didn’t know what was happening but the seemingly concerned stare Hange had given him was evidence enough, he probably wasn’t playing properly.

***

An hour later, Levi was three hundred dollars poorer but on the bright side, he understood the objective of the game. He had organized his wall by ascending numbers and similar pairs and had created for himself a system on how to get five triples and one pair.

He just wasn’t fast enough at creating sets for himself.

Erwin dropped the wall in front of them. “Looks like the next hundred dollars is mine,” he said, grabbing the wad of bills from the center of the table.

Levi allowed himself the comfort of looking away, focusing instead on building the wall again. Losing money hurt. The most painful part of buying had always been putting in the credit card number and watching as the screen loaded to ‘payment received.’ A dull pain that weighed on his chest, pulling his lips down into a curled grimace. Levi was feeling the same way then as he heard the rustle of a good hundred dollars fall back into someone’s wallet.

He was in no mood to continue. But I can’t lose all the games right? Levi willed himself to look up again, quickly building the wall in front of him.

The room was filled with the echoes of ‘pong,’’chow,’ and the clatter of tiles on the wooden table, the clack of plastic against plastic as they hit one another. He was still unbearably slow.

And Hange was staring. He was slow but he wasn’t oblivious. “What do you want?”

Hange looked away. “Nothing.”

Levi looked back down at his tiles. He had been lucky enough to have gotten a conveniently matched set of tiles. Within a few moves, all he needed were a ‘two balls’ tile and an ‘seven sticks tile.’

All he had to do was win that, and that would put his net loss at four hundred dollars. That amount was stomacheable at least. Erwin had his tiles close to him, his blue eyes darting quickly from one end of his wall to the other.

Zeke looked deep in thought but as Levi looked closer, he saw a sliver of a grimace. Hange on the other hand liked to stare at him and he had noticed enough times that she had snuck glances at his tiles while reshuffling her own, more than enough times for Levi to at least allow himself a second of wishful thinking.

Was she thinking of him?

The response came loud and clear. “Chow,” Hange said. Her mind was still in the game.

She dropped one tile. Still not the one Levi wanted. He grabbed one from the wall next to him. Still not the one he wanted either.

He looked around him once again, using the square table as a guide to recalling how many rounds had passed. He still needed those two tiles. Since a while ago, he had been stuck in a cycle of just grabbing a new tile and discarding it.

Zeke dropped a ‘two balls’ tile. Levi reached out to grab it even before Zeke pulled away then he dropped another tile.

All Levi needed then was the ‘seven sticks.’ His eyes scanned his surroundings before sliding the Zeke’s discarded tile between two of his own.

A cycle passed. Erwin played. Zeke played. Then Hange. She looked at Levi’s wall once again then looked up at him. Levi met her stare for a second longer before she looked back at his tiles then at her own.

Whatever she saw was probably more interesting than he was. Still, he wondered what she saw on the blank backs of the tiles clumped together.

Maybe she did see something. Before the next cycle even ended, Hange had dropped her tiles on the table, so clumsily and messily that if Levi had been the arbiter, he would have disqualified her. “I thought I lost this one," she said giving a everyone a wry laugh.

Her tiles were a mess. It had taken a few seconds longer, craning his neck scanning over her mixed up tiles to be certain that she had completed it. Among those tiles wedged carelessly towards the middle was the ‘seven sticks’ tile he had needed to win.

Hange grinned. Maybe it could have been genuine, to Levi it was mocking.. After all, she had one every single one of the games save for one Erwin had won and two, Zeke had won. The evidence of that sat right next to the wall of tiles---a thick wad of cash.

That had him a little ticked. He could still get the money back he was sure. He had three more hundred dollar bills, three more chances to earn back the money. He pulled one out, slamming it on the table in front of him. “Next game.”

***

“The strategy of the game isn’t just to reorganize the tiles. You have to put yourself in a situation where you can win with two different tiles.” Erwin was a very eloquent man.

Still, the explanation went in one ear and out the other. “What?” You need sixteen tiles in the game right?

“For example, I set myself up for a position where if I got a ‘two balls’ tile or a ‘one sticks tile..' That would higher my chances of winning,” Erwin explained. But he didn't win.

The one who had won all the games had been Hange who had chosen that moment to count the bills, a wide cat-like smile on her face. Levi couldn’t choose whether to stare at her or the wad of bills in her hand.

They had proven already through six miserable games that although luck played a part in mahjong, it was a strategy game. Somehow, Hange had been the most privy to strategy among the three of them. How exactly? Levi was still too bitter to ask.

The rain was still pouring and if Levi focused on it, he could use it to drown out conversations. It was as if Zeke knew it though, he let his voice echo across the room as he spoke. “You wanna play another game?”

Erwin shook his head. “I think I’ll go back to the room first. There are just some paperwork I need to sort out.”

A wave of disappointment washed through Levi then, or it could have been something a little more heavy. After all, his wallet was completely empty and thus, notably light. Without any cash, under the mercy of one of the richest men in the country, Levi felt naked.

After taking a quick glance at his wallet, Levi snapped it close. He couldn’t do anything about it. He had turned his heel to follow Erwin out of the game room, towel and wet shirt on hand when Zeke mentioned something about getting back twice what he had lost.

It was the word ‘pay you’ that had his ears perked up. It was the word ‘double’ that had him looking back, almost pathetically.

He wasn’t that pathetic. He reminded myself. But money is money. “How?”

“A game of chess?” Zeke suggested, pulling a board out from the shelf.

“Oh, chess?” Hange asked excitedly as she started to clean out the tiles a little quicker.

Zeke put one finger to Hange’s lips. “Not now hun, this is between me and Levi here.” He focused his eyes on Levi. “You need the money don’t you?”

Levi bit his lip. With the way Zeke was talking, it didn’t look like Levi had the chance to win. Still, he could at least try to get back that seven hundred dollars. More importantly, Hange had settled for the seat in between them. She rested her chin on her hands and she was watching both of them intently.

Hange wasn’t staring at tiles that time, she was staring at him.

“How many games?” Levi asked.

“One would be enough. There’s no timer so take the time you need to move,” Zeke said as he lay the board down.

Levi had played chess before. He stared at the pieces in front of them doing a quick review in his head of how each piece moved as he placed them on the board. He still knew how to play at least.

Zeke seemed to know more though. “The Italian game,” he said around the third move. He was moving quickly and reasonably, solid proof that he was far from a beginner.

Levi didn’t have much of a chance but he wasn’t considering quitting yet. It was a chance at money though and Hange was still watching, her eyes on the board. When his king was under attack, Hange had followed with her eyes, her expression unchanging.

As he moved, Levi continued to look at Hange, watching how her eyes focused clearly on the black king in front of her. Before he knew it, he wasn’t even solving whatever puzzle had appeared on the board, his focus was on those brown eyes, and how the hell they had looked so good even half closed, under the dim light of the room.

“You never played chess growing up?” Zeke asked.

Levi looked back at the board to find his king at the corner. “I did a few times.”

“Well, not enough to spot a mate in two.” With some flourish, Zeke lay the king down at the edge of the table. The piece toppled over and rolled down to the side of the table.

Hange picked it up and twirled it in her hand. "There were a lot of moves you didn't spot either," she told Zeke.

"You think you can do a better job?"

Hange gave Zeke a toothy smile. "You know I can."

If they didn't have a table in between them, Levi was sure they would have gone closer. He cleaned out the pieces and was about to fold the board close when Hange sat directly in front of him.

"Don't clean up the pieces yet. Let's play," she said.

He couldn't say no.

***

Somehow within a few moves, the game had evolved into another gamble.

Maybe it helped that Zeke left the room, mumbling something about a meeting and an IPO of a well known company.The moment he left, Hänge started moving a little faster. Levi was halfway through deciding whether or not to repeat the same mistakes of a while ago when he heard the rustle of bills.

He looked beyond the board to find Hange distracted with something under the table. He had half the mind to look under the table then. He had cocked his head just a little lower, ready to peek from under the table when she spoke up again.

"It's the money I won," she said. "If you win this game, you can win it back. I'll pay you double."

"Something tells me you're better than Zeke"

Hange responded with a wide smirk. "Who said?"

"You were winning most of the mahjong games. And when Zeke played with me… you seemed pretty concentrated. Besides, you said so yourself, you could do a better job "

"Maybe I can." She shrugged. "Zeke just made some pretty glaring mistakes."

"Like…"

Hänge didn't respond instantly. The pieces were doing the work for her. He only had to stare down, to notice patterns crested to conclude for himself Hange had played the exact same moves. "A lot of the games are about thinking ahead," She explained. "Zeke is good at that but having worked with him for so long, I noticed… he doesn't really look too much at details. His plans are always grand and he gets the job done. But personally, I think cleaner and faster wins come from less conventional methods, methods that dig towards the nitty gritty details. A lot of grand plans are built on detail after all, not the other way around."

The next few moments passed in silence, save for the sound of the clacking of pieces, in a way Levi was very much familiar with.

"Like here, Zeke had a good move here," Hange said. "Don't play that, play this instead. If you play the pawn first, you block your bishop in."

"Okay." There wasn't much else to say in between.

Hange moved another piece. "What's your next move?"

Levi found himself attempting to mimic that same attention to detail. There was a dam in his mind, stopping him from thinking beyond what was already on the board.

Hange didn't have that same issue. She looked up at him expectantly.

"You like thinking ahead too." Levi asked.

"I like approaching games with a little more attention to detail," Hange said. “For example, if he left his knight right here, he would have paralyzed your position. He went for a quick and more careless attack.” Hange replayed the game again. “What’s your next move?”

Levi was only a split second from playing his next move, Hange took the reins. “That move is just gonna make your position worse. Move your pieces out first.”

Before Levi even knew it, Hange was playing for him. A few times, he had tried to move the pieces before him of his own volition, only to realize he didn’t have any input.

Hange had placed them both in a position incomprehensible to him. “Sometimes, it’s the small details, which have you reading ahead,” she said. “Like a while ago, Erwin and Zeke liked to focus on the bigger picture. If they place themselves in a lucky enough position to get a perfect set, they win. They didn’t consider one thing…” She wagged her finger at him. “You got a pretty good set right?” she said.

“A while ago?”

Hange nodded. “A few rounds you did. You like to organize your tiles, you clump the similar tiles together so you can more easily see patterns maybe?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that's a bad idea when playing with actual players. I picked up that you needed a ‘seven sticks’ piece. Or around that range. You were letting go of everything a little too quickly but at the start, you picked up an ‘eight sticks’ then you let go of the rest right? You placed your eight sticks towards the end of the wall, next to one tile which was probably a ‘nine sticks.’

At that moment, as Hange recalled it, Levi saw the tiles clearly once again. They were supposed to be hidden, he was sure. Under Hange’s observant eye, he was exposed.

“The point is, your turn is right after mine. I had the tile you needed and I didn’t let go of it. And if you gave up on completing it, maybe you would have had a better chance of winning.You were just too conservative with your own ways. You didn’t wanna let go of that pattern you were trying to make. And that was your downfall,” Hange said. She started to move the chess pieces a little quicker. “Levi, play the rook out here.”

Levi quietly complied.

“Games teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… Maybe you’re just a little careful, a little set in your ways. At the same time, you lack the attention to detail. But you know, the attention to detail can make people more confident in taking risks. I couldn’t be too sure that was the piece you needed but I thought it a good risk to play with. Sometimes to make that risk, all you need is that bright new perspective. And where do you get that bright new perspective? Small details. They’re just a bunch of cyclical concepts all interconnected,” Hange said.

Levi was pulling away, leaning back on his seat. Hange was leaning forward. In that split second before Levi had leaned away, they were close enough to kiss. But still far enough for it not to happen.

Hange fell back on the chair, adjusting the pieces. “Or if you can’t see all the small details, then accept what you have for what’s right there. What do you feel? What do you want? What are you planning?”

“No plans, nothing.”

“Then start with accepting. Then observing,” Hange said. “Move your rook to the seventh rank. It’s open.”

Levi had to stare for a split second longer to understand. “Done.”

“What do you see?” Hange asked, waving her hand quickly over the board.

He had a good position. One rook at the seventh rank, the pieces were perfectly placed for an attack. “A winning position,” Levi answered.

“Details, Levi.”

Hange was patient with him. Her eyes were still boring holes into him and if he could blame anything---or anyone---for slowing down his thinking process, it would be her. “It’s a winning position.”

“Zeke’s right. You can’t see a mate in two,” Hange said. She grabbed the pieces and moved them quickly over the board. The game ended with his queen, right over Hange’s king. “A lot of games end like this. With a kiss from the enemy queen to the king…. And it looks like you won this one Levi. I promised you double right? So that’s one thousand four hundred dollars.” She pulled the bills out of her wallet and counted it out, sliding it to the side of the chess board.

“Wait, you might need---”

“Levi, I don’t mind giving it.”

“It’s your money.”

Hange shook her head. “Well, if it makes you feel better. Zeke spoils me enough.”

Levi pushed the money back. “That’s Zeke’s money not yours.”

“You don’t think I’ve accumulated my fair share of assets? I do investment too you know.”

He had put himself in a tight spot, assuming the most vulnerable position from Hange. Giving her a onceover though, he was sure he had been wrong. Hange sat straight, confidently. She had dropped the money so easily in front of him yet her eyes were observing. She wasn’t reckless with money for sure. She wasn’t lying.

Maybe refusing the money could seem insulting. So he let her push it nearer towards him. That was the same wad of cash as a while ago and Levi felt no need to count it.

“I don’t have cash on me but I’ll send you the rest of the money through phone credit,” Hange said. She turned the board over, inserting all the pieces on the hollow shapes underneath. Levi did his part pushing the pieces towards her.

Locking the board closed, Hange stood up. “Let’s go?”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you back to the room. We have to prepare for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Levi only became aware of the time then. The clock on the wall read a little past five. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and he only appreciated it then when they had turned off the air conditioner and filed out of the room.

“Looks like tomorrow might just be a good day,” Hange commented. “We could go to the beach tomorrow afternoon. If you’re fine with that.”

Levi hated swimming in the ocean. It was the world’s bathroom. It was a confluence of waste. When Hange was mentioning something about risks and bright new perspectives, he saw little reason to reject the invite. “I’m fine with that.” Might as well enjoy it while we’re here. As they walked silently, Levi took that moment to look at the setting sun, a very similar view to sunrise.

Hange had mentioned something about ‘sunrise’ and about ‘tea time.’

“You have tea time in the morning right?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, at sunrise why? You don’t have to wake up for it if you don’t wanna. Zeke and Erwin just thought it would be a good way to bond. And I’m going because… Well, Zeke’s my husband…”

“Yeah, I understand but I’m excited for it too.”

Hange’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you wanna join too? Great! I’ll reserve a slot for you. It’s better if we have more people. The course will probably be pretty wet though but it doesn’t get muddy?”

Levi almost tensed up at the word. “Muddy?” When did tea times get muddy?

“Well, we are playing in a grassy course,” Hange said, too matter-of-factly.

Playing? "You said tea time right?” Levi made a subtle gesture, putting his hand up as if holding a tea cup.

Hange didn’t notice it. “Yeah, tee time as in the time when we start playing golf. We’re playing golf tomorrow morning. You’ve played before right?”

“Yeah, I did. A few times.” Levi said. He kept his voice casual, an utter betrayal of how he actually felt. He had never actually played golf but he wondered how ridiculous he could have looked being excited for courses of tea while watching a sunrise, an idea which turned out to have never existed in the first place. He could stick with a white lie and just google the rest later.

“Okay great! I’ll contact the coordinator then,” Hange said. She pulled out her phone and texted. “You have shoes right? Pants? We can rent the clubs… So just make sure to meet by the common room at five alright?”

Once again, Levi couldn’t say no to her.

***

It was around ten in the evening when Levi received the notification.

700 dollars was credited to your account.

He paused the video on the rules of golf and allowed himself a few minutes to just stare at the notification. Before his phone screen turned completely black, another message came.

Just sent you the money! Please check your account.

Levi had already tried to give her back the money during dinner time to no avail. Hange had just been to good at digression.

Still, she didn’t have to have it her way all the time. Levi wanted to protest in his own way. He opened his wallet, ready to send back the money only to be met with another message.

This transaction is subject to 2.9% of the total money transacted. Will you proceed?

He decided then, he could probably wait a little longer to give back the money.

#levihan fanfiction #levihan #zekehan

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 2

Part 1

This is gonna be many more parts... I can already tell 

Word Count: 2.2k

SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader!

- Admin Myah

You spent your entire free period up on that roof, hoping by some miracle that you weren’t crazy, that the group of second-year students that had seemingly vanished before your eyes were in fact pranking you, and upon seeing that you weren’t amused, would get tired of hiding and pop out, finishing the surprise. No such luck, however, and so you left, the second-period bell forcing your hand. Spending the first period of your day - a bit of free time meant for studying, finishing homework, or otherwise enriching yourself educationally - up on the roof and unaccounted for by any teachers was a bit risky already, and you were a decent enough student. There was no way you could just sit there all day, skipping the rest of your classes. Sighing, you resolved to just give up the hunt for your destined main character and by extension the group of potential new friends.

＊

Often after school, you headed to the library, which stayed open along with a select few other areas of Shujin for student use after the last bell rang. Today, however, you felt drawn back to that place, back to that rooftop where you’d seen Akira, Ryuji, and Ann disappear hours earlier. It just wasn’t sitting right with you; you felt a stirring in your soul, like a tiny voice in your head, a shimmering blue butterfly in your stomach. Lucky for you, the rooftop was also open, though you’d never really spent time there. Certain students, including another third-year you admired raised plants up there where the sun could reach them, while others simply came up there for the view or the breeze, some private space to study.

Today, the breeze was indeed blowing, and you sat there writing as it whistled past your ears, polishing up some plot points, scrawling down ideas for your protagonist straight from the imagination, since it seemed you wouldn’t be finding any real-life inspiration anytime soon. It was frustrating, writer’s block, and for the past month or so, it’s all you could do to write a single paragraph. You always found yourself lost in the pages of the novels you loved, and you could identify great writing, appreciate the artistry of another writer, but it was sometimes so hard to put your own thoughts down on the pages of your journal. Why was it so hard? You knew what real romance was. You knew which themes and cliches were overdone and unrealistic. You had a mature and healthy outlook on real relationships and could pick apart the stereotypical female protagonist who was strong and independent until she met the man who would break down her walls or the toxic bad boy who women loved on paper but would cry their eyes out over in real life. You’d read thousands of books and fan-fiction, listened to hundreds of audiobooks, watched tons of romance movies, so why, lately, was it not clicking?! Where was the disconnect between having thoughts and transcribing said thoughts down into your very own masterpiece? Fantasy came so easily to you, sci-fi, non-fiction essays for class, mysteries, research papers, but romance, the genre you loved the most, seemed to purposely elude you.

You were shaken out of your frazzled state when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Shaking your head a bit to try and focus your vision, you looked over your shoulder to see that the black spot on the fringe of your blind spot was in fact actually there. You rubbed your eyes just to be sure, but there it was, a wavering black inky spot hovering in the air. Another appeared, then another, now red in color. You were beginning to feel insane for the second time that day, but rather safe than sorry, you quickly stood, shoving your work and pencils into your bag and shuffling away from the blobs, which were now oscillating and dancing around each other, phasing in and out of existence like a fisheye lens. This was a bit too freaky for your liking, and you were beginning to feel a frightening chill up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you elected to put some kind of barrier of safety between yourself and the floating bubbles. Like any rational person, your mind was screaming “unknown situation: possible threat: run!” but again, that little butterfly in the pit of your guts was saying there was something worth staying for. So, running to the door to the roof, you swung it open, a ringing in your ear starting to buzz and chime. You closed it frantically, pressing your nose up against the small glass windows that allowed a limited view of the roof. A small gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto your bag a bit tighter.

The red and black splotches began to dissipate and fade like some kind of glitch in reality, and three figures appeared like mist, like ghosts before beginning to solidify and slowly become tangible silhouettes. Then, as if some kind of magic ritual was coming to a close, the figures poofed into existence, and your brain processed the scene before you.

“Holy shit…” you whispered. There, clear as day were Sakamoto, Takamaki, and the new kid. They were just standing adjusting their clothes, stretching their arms and legs, situating their personal items. It was just then that you saw a little furry head poke up out of Akira’s school bag. Your harsh, analytical gaze softened a bit upon seeing the small black cat that appeared. Had he been carrying that cat around all day? Surely not, right? How would he keep it quiet and still? “What the…?” The inquisitive glare returned to your features when they began… speaking to the cat. It wasn’t the cute baby talk people often use with their pets, either. It was a full-on, serious conversation, and the cat was meowing back, clearly, in response to their statements.

It was a bit muffled by the thick door, but you could make out bits and pieces.

 Metaverse? Palace. Shadows... treasure? Kamoshida? Great, that asshole, but what could he have to do with this? What even was this? 

You were questioning everything you knew. You were wondering if the juice you had this morning at breakfast was spiked. There was no winning in this scenario, either you were crazy, or these kids were. You looked downward, contemplating your navel as your mind tried to make sense of the events of today. You glanced up again, trying to eavesdrop a little better, get some more detail. You took a step closer, trying to will the sound of their voices through the door to be just a little louder, just a little clearer, when Sakamoto suddenly pivoted, stretching and cracking his spine with a sigh.

“Gah!”  You shouted out. His eyes met yours through the window and widened like a kid caught in the cookie jar. You jumped with a start, taking a cautionary step back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. It was a miracle you caught yourself in time, but your little outburst had definitely caught the attention of the group. Your cover was thoroughly blown. “Oh, no…” You cursed under your breath, spotting both Ann and Akira’s eyes on you now as well.

“Shit! Do you think they saw?” Ryuji’s hands flew to his hair, mussing and working out his frustrations on the dyed strands while simultaneously, Akira was already in motion, rushing toward the door to apprehend the unwelcome listener.

Your heartbeat sped up, and like a gazelle spotted by a lion, a fire was lit under you and you began to sprint, clumsily fumbling down the stairwell and onto the flat platform where the stairs rotated 90 degrees and continued downward. Inhaling sharply, your foot, nervous and supporting jelly-like legs, missed the final step. Your belongings, along with your body, spilled across the square, flat platform, and the door behind you slammed open.

“Hey!” Akira’s yell echoed through the stairwell, and your thoughts bounced off the walls just like his voice. Scrambling, you scooped only the essentials into your hands: your journal, the phone of course, a few homework binders, ditching the easily replaceable items like chewing gum and pencils. Taking to one scraped-up knee and ready to bolt, you felt a hand close upon your bicep and clamp down firmly. “Hey, hey… slow down.” Akira again, now gentler with his tone, spun you around to face him. You stood clutching your things to your chest like a life preserver. “I’m not gonna like… kill you or anything.” A breathy chuckle, and now he was on the platform next to you, scanning you up and down for injuries with his hands in his pockets. “So, uh… so don’t kill yourself by fallin’ down these stairs, huh?” He played off the tense feeling in the air with humor, but the sheer proximity of him, standing there in front of you mere inches away in the cramped space, it was like you could hear your blood pounding in your ears.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think you were some weirdo stalker? I mean, you’d just met him this morning and now you were watching him through a small window like a creep after school… after following him there. Wait, that wasn’t important right now! Was he going to kill you? He didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type to phase in and out of existence either… neither did Ryuji and Ann… what were people with powers like that capable of?

Right now, you were just going to mind your business, and play it safe. It wasn’t worth getting mixed up with people who warp through a “metaverse” and talk to animals just for some good writing material, not if it turned out to be dangerous.

“Well…” you hesitated, “it’s none of my business, what I just saw, and I won’t tell anyone.” You breathed a little easier, tried to regain your composure, to not look too weak.

“So they did see! Awww, shit!” Ryuji’s head popped through the door, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation, and the hot air of the enclosed space was cut through by a gust of wind from the now open rooftop door.

“Now, just hold on, Ryuji,” Akira held out one hand to placate his rather temperamental friend.

“No, no really it’s fine that you talk to your… cat and just… vanish... and I’m sure it’s all fine and multiverse-y and…”

“Metaverse.” Akira corrected you with a small smile, bending down to pick up the rest of your scattered objects.

“Dude!” Ryuji ran a hand down his face in defeat.

“They saw us, no point in being tight-lipped,” he stood, handing them to you.

“Metaverse… right,” you took them, watching every move he made carefully. “Sorry, I’m… a bit more... eloquent in my writing,” you moved to the side, ready to sneak past and descend the rest of the stairs. Anything to get on with your day and escape this unbelievable situation. Akira shuffled, mirroring you and completely blocking the stairwell. There was something clever about him, something sharp and charismatic. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted to achieve, and he knew how to calmly and smoothly execute his plans, unlike Sakamoto, who was far less… organized.

“Writing…?” He was keeping you locked into this conversation, as gently and amiably as he could, and you were not leaving until he was sure he could trust your word.

“Uh… yeah, that’s why I was up…” your eyes met his, quickly recoiling and looking toward the floor again, “...up on the roof. I was just looking for a quiet place to write.”

“What, uh, what kind of stuff do you write?” Ann had now joined Ryuji at the top of the stairs, leaving you feeling completely caged in. Ann threw Akira - who seemed like the leader of the small band of misfits - a desperate glance, a sort of look that seemed to ask: “Where are you going with this? Are we screwed?”

“It’s… it’s kind of private. It’s just… romance stuff. I don’t know, I do all kinds of different stuff, whatever I’m in the mood for.” Akira nodded, more to his friends than you, something you had a feeling you weren’t supposed to pick up on. He stuck his hand out flat, gesturing toward the rooftop behind you. You took the hint, heading a bit anxiously back up the stairs, Ryuji and Ann making way for you.

“You any good?” Akira followed behind you, and now on the rooftop once again, the cool air felt freeing, less constricting, though his question felt a bit insulting, a bit nosey.

“I don’t know… I’ve been told I am…” The three friends took a seat in areas that seemed very familiar to them, like they’d been up here warping in and out of this realm many times before. Now settled into place, Ann spoke up, obviously as apprehensive as you were:

“Well do you… do you think…?” Her high-pitched voice seemed to be hesitant, not yet confident in her next words, not sure if they were all on the same page.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Akira smirked as if the three had one mind. He turned to you, trying to make eye contact that you vehemently avoided. “How would you feel about helping us out?”

#joker x reader #persona 5 #persona 5 protagonist #akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya x reader #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #Shin Megami Tensei #gender neutral reader #Female reader #male reader #commission #writing commissions #fan fiction #x reader #reader insert #y/n #s/o #slow burn #sfw #persona 5 joker #phantom thieves #friends to lovers #imagines #reactions #scenarios #shin megami tensai persona #angst #fluff

[thetypedwriter]

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review by MsKingBean89

So. 

This is a first. 

If you’ve been following this blog for some time, then you know I generally read young adult books and write far too lengthy reviews on them with the occasional outlier of adult fiction, mystery, sci-fi, etc. 

At any given time, I usually have both a physical book that I’ve bought from somewhere that I’m working on (right now it’s Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley) as well as a fanfiction that I reserve until before I go to bed (my treat for a day well lived). 

Fanfiction is something that I’ve mentioned copious amounts of times on this blog in varying degrees, but this is the first time I’ll be writing an actual review for one of them on this platform. 

The reason for this is myriad. 

One, this fanfiction called All the Young Dudes is a far-cry from your normal standardized fanfiction of 5-50,000 words-something I can easily consume in a few minutes to a few hours. 

Nope, this behemoth ends on a staggering 526,969 words and 188 chapters, not including bonus chapters and extra in-universe canonical content the author has also written and published. Roughly speaking, if this was actually published onto paper it would be well over 2,000 pages. 

2,000 pages. 

Yeah. And I enjoyed every single moment of it. 

Two, while I read a lot of fanfiction I generally don’t put any of it on this blog because while I’ve dedicated it to published novels, I also usually have very simple feelings about fanfiction. My thoughts run the gambit of: It was good, it was fluffy, it was a train-wreck, so on and so forth. 

Normally my reviews are so long and wordy because I have too many thoughts about the published books that I read and I need an outlet to let them loose. 

Whether because of its longevity or because of its content, All the Young Dudes is a story I find myself having a profusion of thoughts for. Hence, the birth of this review. 

If fanfiction isn’t your thing, feel free to skip this particular review of mine (although fanfiction is a gift to this world and you should really rethink your stance on it if you don’t like it, just saying). 

Third, All the Young Dudes is well written and rivals any actual published content. 

Fourth, because of how extensive this fanfiction is, it took me over a month to read it-time I generally would have been reading something else. Instead of leaving you all hanging for a few more weeks until I finish Firekeeper's Daughter (don’t hold your breath-the book is sort of a slog for me personally right now), I decided to just take the jump and write my first-ever typedwriter review for a fanfiction. 

Fanfiction has been a part of my life for the better part of almost two decades now. It was truly something I found by accident and in retrospect, it’s insane to me that it’s still something that brings me continuous joy and happiness. 

I discovered fanfiction when I was 11-years-old and deeply obsessed with the Harry Potter fandom. 

Now, as an overall disclaimer I completely disagree with J.K. Rowling’s stances of gender and biology and differ wholeheartedly with her views of trans and non-binary individuals. With that said, I still love Harry Potter as a story and while I no longer buy anything that profits J.K. Rowling directly, I still love the fandom and the people in it, including fanworks like All the Young Dudes. 

When I was 11, the seventh Harry Potter book had yet to come out and like many other people in this time period of agony while waiting for 2007 to roll around so that I could find out what happened, I discovered fanfiction as a way to fill in that ache I was so keenly feeling. 

I found myself suddenly immersed in this world of online fiction-both good and bad-but completely entrancing all the same. 

I never left. 

That is to say, I did eventually move onto other fandoms with their own fanfiction cultures, but Harry Potter was still my first in terms of fanfiction and introducing me to the concept as a whole. 

Specifically and maybe oddly, I never found myself curious for actual fanfiction about Harry or Hermione or Ron. In my mind, I already knew what had happened to them and reading about them in fanfiction was redundant. 

In addition, the first fanfiction I just happened to come across was a Lily/James marauder era fanfiction on mugglenet.com

This idea immediately intrigued me as fans as a whole knew next to nothing about the infamous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and while I knew everything I needed to about Harry Potter it was intoxicating to think that I could learn about a time before the series had existed and about characters who were important, but off screen. 

I was hooked and devoured as much as I could for most of middle school about the marauders and Lily and James’ romance in particular (I even wrote and published some of my own that will go unmentioned as they are truly really terrible). 

That being said, I haven’t read a Harry Potter fanfiction in years. I grew up and out of the fandom eventually thanks to Twilight and from there I’ve bounced from fandom to fandom as I’ve aged and consumed different things and fallen in love with different characters and different worlds. 

That isn’t to say I’ve forgotten though. 

I still remember my favorite marauder stories, my favorite Sirius Black/OFC (original female character), and my favorite baby Harry drabbles. They made such a huge impression on me and even though it’s been sixteen years, I still recall those stories with fond nostalgia and jubilation. 

Which is why it’s almost ironic that I would return to this particular time period of the marauders with All the Young Dudes. 

In a fashion that’s almost scarily full circle, I happened to be on Youtube one day and saw a recommendation video about this girl reviewing a fanfiction called All the Young Dudes. Now, youtube book reviews aren’t uncommon, but a thirty minute video for a fanfiction? Not your typical sighting. 

So out of pure curiosity, I searched All the Young Dudes fanfiction on Google and low and behold the overwhelming and top results were all for a marauder-era fanfiction by MsKingBean89. Piqued, I clicked on the link in ao3 and thought why not? 

While I’ve mainly been reading in other fandoms recently (BTS, some anime and manga, All for the Game) I had been in a little bit of a slump for finding a really good, really alluring story for some time and really didn’t think I had anything to lose by reading All the Young Dudes, especially as the more research I did, the more I found how popular it was-a plethora of videos on youtube, tiktok compilations, and dozens of fanart posts. 

Plus, it had been so long since I had read anything from my progenitor fandom and the thought of going back was strangely comforting.

Hence the journey of reading All the Young Dudes began and oh what a journey it was. 

Now, that this review is already five pages in, I should probably tell you what on earth All the Young Dudes is actually about. 

The whole story is a marauder-era fanfiction told from Remus Lupin’s POV from the summer of 1971 when Remus is 11-years-old to the summer of 1995 when he is 35-five-years-old. It is an in-depth portrayal of Remus’ time at Hogwarts from year one to year seven and then going all the way up to the start of the second wizarding world, ending around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix begins. 

While already the scope makes this a massive undertaking, the author also includes all canonical content from the original series involving Remus, the Marauders, and the time period and incorporates it into her fanfiction-making it canon compliant from start to finish. 

While a very large portion of this story is not romantic, there is eventual WolfStar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) and if you have read the original Harry Potter series...well. You know things don't end up super dandy for these two characters in particular so you know how the story will end before it begins. 

This fanfiction left me speechless for so many reasons. 

The scope and length is frankly unbelievable. This fanfiction was published on March 2, 2017 and it was completed on November 12, 2018.

….how?

How did she manage that? I frankly have no idea, but I am in complete and utter awe at her ability to write content with such a magnitude and actually complete it. She gets an award just for that honestly. 

Not only that, but the fanfiction is actually superbly well-written. I won’t lie and say it’s the most poignant and beautiful piece of literature I’ve ever consumed, but it was consistent in its pacing, characterization, themes, motifs, and structure, which, for 2,000 pages, is an incredible achievement when you think about it. 

Speaking of characterization, everyone was So. Well. Done. 

Remus was such an interesting POV to read from and while he was compliant in every sense of the word-werewolf, prefect, bookish-MsKingBean89 added so much more to his character and fleshed him out so incredibly that it’s truly tragic that he’s not a real person. 

And to that extent, she does this with all of the characters. You see James’ optimism and leadership, Sirius’ arrogance and loyalty, Peter’s jealousy and chess skills. 

Every character was so well-rounded and real. She did an incredible job of taking the bits and pieces from the canon series and using that to build up her own flesh and blood people with motivations, likes, dislikes, dreams, and desires. 

That being said, she also had 2,000 pages to do it sooooooo it would be bad if the characters weren’t fleshed out by the end honestly. 

In addition, I really appreciated that she didn’t just focus on Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. Lily Evans played a critical role in Remus’ school life and after and so did the other Gryffindor girls like Marlene and Mary. 

Too often, the focus is on the boys and their close friendship and while that was a huge focus, we also get to see Remus develop friendships with the girls in his own right and other friends as well that were often OC’s of the author’s. 

Now. OC’s are generally something I dislike. I’m reading fanfiction to read about particular characters that I’ve sought after, not to read about some imaginary cast. However, just like any of the canon characters, all of the OC characters were well-developed and played crucial roles in Remus’ development-while either at Hogwarts or after-and I found myself not minding them in the least. In a few cases (Grant) I actually really loved them. 

The biggest draw for this fanfiction for me was Remus’ time at Hogwarts. It was so well-written and incredibly descriptive and I found myself thrust back into the world of magic so suddenly and seamlessly that it was like I never left. 

MsKingBean89 includes so many intricate details and builds up the world so beautifully that I’d recommend any Harry Potter fan to consume it, just to get some good Hogwarts material out of it. 

Another thing I greatly appreciate about this fanfiction was the slow burn. I’ve read slow burn before (All for the Game trilogy anybody?), but this truly took the cake. Sirius and Remus don’t properly get together until the end of year six going into year seven. That’s over 100 chapters in. 

100 chapters out of 188. 

Meaning that over half of this beast doesn’t have the main pairing even together. For some people, this could be a drawback. You might think to yourself: It takes how long for them to confess their feelings and stop being prats?

A very, very long time. 

However...it didn’t bug me. I like slow burn to begin with, but being along for the ride as Remus goes from being a child to an adolescent with unrequited feelings to being in a relationship with someone he loves is so rewarding and fulfilling that the 100 previous chapters are completely and utterly worth it. 

MsKingBean89 develops them so well and so carefully that the payoff is so sweet and satisfactory that it's enough to bring the tears right then and there. 

The last huge feat of this fanfiction for me was the author’s dedication to canon not just confined to Hogwarts and the Harry Potter books, but also to the time period. Either she lived through the 70’s and 80’s herself or she had done her due diligence when it comes to research because anything from London anti-gay laws to British slang was commonplace in her fic. 

I found it completely amazing how she was able to tie in real-time historical and cultural moments like famous singers and movies playing at the time alongside convoluted muggle politics warring with the wizarding ones. 

I was so blown away by the accuracy and genuine love behind this fic that it often brought me out of my own mind to simply ponder once again how much work this was and how well she was delivering it. 

Even unpleasant things, like homophobia and bigotry, are dealt with in a very carefully constructed way that is aligned with the time period in which the story takes place. 

Unfortunately, everything beautiful is not without flaws and All the Young Dudes is not the exception, although it’s flaws are nary compared to its achievements. 

The few complaints I have with this fic are honestly quite negligible. 

First, there are a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Very few, but I did notice some. 

Next, and again, this complaint is really just me whining, but...the end of the fic was really fucking sad. The end of this whole story took me so much time to complete simply because I didn’t want to read it. 

I know what happened during the first wizarding war and I also know what ended it (James and Lily Potter dying, Harry being shipped off to the Dursley’s, Sirius imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit, Peter presumed dead) and in one fell swoop Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved. 

After spending over 1,500 pages of Remus growing to love these people it is absolutely devastating and heart-breaking to see him lose it all. 

The last handful of chapters are just really, really sad and it makes me wonder why MsKingBean89 decided to write it in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why she didn't write about Remus’ time at Hogwarts and stop after graduation because we all know what happens after that and none of it is good. 

Looking back, I wish I could time travel and tell myself to stop at chapter 150. I truly didn’t need to read about the tragedies that happened after that and the hell that all of the characters go through. 

And while it does end on a….sort of kind of maybe positive (?) note with Sirius and Remus reuniting briefly once the events of Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban take place, it was really tainted and bittersweet for me knowing that in a year Sirius would die and Remus would marry his fucking cousin and have a child. 

Urgh. 

I just can’t. 

That being said, I understand it’s not the author’s fault and I’m not saying it is. She wrote a canon compliant fic to the end and it was my choice to continue reading. That being said, she said she ended it before the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Sirius and Remus are happy and back together and she didn’t want to write what was coming next if she continued. 

I truly, truly get that. 

But in the same vein, why even write the events of the first wizarding world to begin with then? I’m confused with that response as it doesn’t make much sense to me. I felt like ending it right then and there was not a happy ending. They’re together, yes, but at this point they are both shells of who they used to be. Both have severe trauma and PTSD and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with them being together just because they’ve put each other through so much. 

It’s just an interesting choice at the end of the day in terms of the author. 

Once again, however, I truly understand that she can do whatever she wants and that she doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially as she’s writing this for free and just because. So please keep in mind that although I’m complaining, I truly understand how fortunate we are to even have this fic in the first place. 

Okay. 

Secondly, my only other huge complaint is that MsKingBean89 made Remus gay. Not bi, not pan. Gay. 

You could argue that Remus just calls himself gay in the fanficiton as he didn’t know about other kinds of sexuality. You could argue that Remus’ sexuality changes and develops as he ages and experiences trials and tribulations. You could argue that it was a sign of times like so much else in this fic. 

I frankly just found it to be a frustrating choice as the fic is canon compliant and even though it ends before the events of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows we know that Remus eventually marries Tonks and has a baby son named Teddy Lupin. 

How does that make sense?

I tried very, very hard to come up with some sort of feasible explanation for how a gay man would have ended up with the love of his life’s female cousin and truly could not think of one that was not fucked up to some degree. 

Again. I know I’m being nit-picky, but it irked me that she made this choice regarding Remus’ sexuality and essentially ended her fic with Remus stuck in a corner regarding how the series actually ends. 

At the end of the day, all of the negatives are truly, truly not important. I’m just whinging to whine and to express my thoughts, but I do once again understand that MsKingBean89 isn’t profiting from this fic and that she can do what she wants as is her prerogative. 

I hope I was able to express that while I understand that, I can still be frustrated with some of the choices she made. 

To wrap this all up, All the Young Dudes is a masterpiece and is a must-read for anyone who loves Harry Potter, the Marauders, or Wolfstar. I was blown away by the sheer magnitude, the love and care she put into her craft, the slow and deliberate development of all the characters, the beautifully constructed love between Sirius and Remus, and the intricate world-both muggle and magic-that surrounded the story like a cocoon. 

I am so happy I found this fic and I truthfully am floundering at what to do with myself next. If you have any more current Marauder era fics that I’ve missed out in the past eleven years, please don’t hesitate to let me know. 

Recommendation: Go read All the Young Dudes. For weeks, you will cry, you will laugh, you will despair, and you will smile. This fanfiction will make you wish this was canon and in my mind, it now is. 

Score: 8/10

Links:

1. All the Young Dudes on ao3 

2. The Youtube Video about All the Young Dudes that made me aware of its existence 

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