#i prefer to breed my males right around a year because i think that's their prime

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk to Me

Arkham! Riddler x F! Reader

🔞 Minor DNI!!!

TW: past child abuse

Masterlist

Chapter 3/ AO3

“I found the answer to your riddle.”

Edward stares at you, an amused grin spreading across his lips.

“Well then, tell me.” He leans his body towards you, his elbows against the table.

“The answer is cat.”

“Very good, Doctor. Very good." He chuckles. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“The first part is about how stealthy cats are. The second and third are about how lovable yet independent they are. And from then on I just assumed the rest.”

“You are definitely exceeding my expectations. The bar was pretty low to begin with, but your effort counts for something.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, deciding to focus on the more important issue. “How did you know I had a cat?”

“It may seem impressive to you, but it was just logical thinking.” He taps his index finger on his temple. “You see, I noticed some fur on your lab coat, so I assumed you might have a pet.”

You look down at yourself and to your surprise there’s a few strands caught in the fabric just like he said. It probably got stuck in your lab coat after you hugged Meg before you left in the morning.

“Most citizens of Gotham live in apartments, so it's more practical to have a cat than a dog. And you seem like the kind of person who prefers cats.”

His remark makes you raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?”

Edward shakes his head. “You could be out there, with normal and good citizens of Gotham. But instead you chose to be here, among the crazy and degenerate.”He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “A cat would be an appropriate pet for you.”

“That's just a stereotype. Cats can be very affectionate and great companions.”

“Well, I know a kitty that would make you think otherwise. In fact, her obsession with stealing makes me wonder if she shouldn't be locked here.”

“If you're talking about Catwoman I would have to disagree. Kleptomania only qualifies for theft of worthless objects, and as far as I know, she only likes jewelry and luxury things.”

“Oh, please. A sane person wouldn't go around dressed as a cat walking across rooftops. And I've seen her clean herself with her tongue once! She's definitely not right in the head."

You can't help the unexpected laugh that leaves your lips, covering your mouth in an attempt not to stroke Edward's ego, which doesn't quite work out.

Edward gives you a smug look, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Is that a laugh, Doctor? Did I make you laugh?” His tone is humorous, proud to have broken your composure.

"Hold on. We're here to talk about you, not the other Gotham criminals." You take a deep breath, adjusting your posture in the chair.

Edward clicks his tongue. "Alright . If you insist. But let me ask you before we get started. What is your cat's breed?

The question catches you off guard, but you still answer him. “It’s a calico.”

"Oh, I see. So it's a female, isn't it?

“Your mind is pretty sharp today. She really is a female and her name is Meg. How did you know?”

“My mind is always sharp, thank you very much. I just used logical thinking again. You see, calico cats are predominantly female, because their coat is linked to the X chromosome. Calico males are more rare.” Edward explains with his index finger raised in the air.

"I didn’t know that. I'm glad you're using your intelligence for less destructive things."

The expression on his face darkens and Edward crosses his arms over his chest. “Don't jump to conclusions, Doctor. I'm just bored.”

“Then how about I ask you a few questions? Let's see…” You look through your notes until you get to today's topic. “Can you tell me about your childhood?”

"Miserable. Next?"

You put your clipboard down, deciding to maintain eye contact with him. “By all accounts that is when your fascination with riddles began. I believe discussing those years could explain your compulsive behavior.”

"Very well…" Edward sighs, rolling his eyes. “My father hated me. Always called me a moron.”

Your brows furrow slightly, a familiar feeling hitting you, but you try to push it away for now. "I see."

“I was determined to prove him wrong, so I entered a contest at school. A twenty dollar prize for the kid who could figure out an almost impossible logic problem. I won, of course.”

“And did that pleased your father?”

“Hardly,” he huffs, his handcuffs waving in the air as he gestures. “He was convinced I had cheated. He kept yelling: You must have cheated! Admit it, you moron! You cheated!” Edward recounts, his voice full of anger. "I swore I didn't and he hit me for lying."

“I'm so sorry, Edward. You didn't deserve this.” For a moment you want to reach out and touch him, but decide not to.

The wolfish grin on his face sends a chill down your spine. Edward tilts his head, his glasses on the tip of his nose. "Don’t be. He was right."

Now things fell into place perfectly. The need to outsmart everyone. His egotistical nature. How he needed to be better and superior. These were all ways for Edward to protect himself, a shield so that no one would treat him like his father had. So that no one would treat him like an moron.

You make a quick note, taking a deep breath before looking at Edward again.

“I'm still sorry, Edward. You didn't deserve to be treated that way, no child does."

His gaze softens, but he talks in a annoyed tone. “I don't need your pity, Doctor. Most of the lunatics here have troubled relationships with their parents, and unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“What I feel is not pity. I know how it is to feel this way. Scared. Lost. Lonely.”

The words leave a bitter taste on your mouth, but they don't stop flowing.

Before Edward can counter with a sarcastic comment, you pull up your shirt sleeve, showing off the burn that covered most of your forearm. The marks were old, long healed. But you could still remember the heat over your skin. The pain overwhelming every nerve in your body until you became numb.

“I know because my mom did the same thing to me.”

You don't really know why you did it. That probably break the doctor-patient code in some kind of way, but you needed to show Edward. You needed him to know he wasn't alone.

His eyes move between your burn and your face, filled with something you haven't seen before.

“Why…why did she do this to you?” Edward asks after a long period of silence.

You cover your scar again. “I don't remember exactly. I only know that I did something that displeased my mother and as punishment she burned me with the hot water from the teapot. But it doesn't matter anyway, I know I didn't deserve it, just like you didn't deserve your father's abuse.”

“I won't say I'm sorry if that's what you want to hear.” Despite his cruel voice, the expression on Edward's face was different.

For the first time, Edward appeared to be concerned about something other than himself.

“I don't want you to feel bad for me. That's not why I showed you this,” you lean towards him. “Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child. Do you understand that, Edward?”

He doesn't bother to answer you, preferring to look down at his lap, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I have some self-destructive habits because of my traumas,” you continue. “In my case, when I get really nervous I have a tic that makes me want to scratch my burn. You deal with your insecurities in a different way.”

Edward looks up again, his nose wrinkled as if you just said something absurd. “Insecurities? I have no insecurities!”

“I think you use self-centered comments in an attempt to feel superior because your father made you feel insignificant.”

Edward slams his fists against the table, the metal creaking with the impact. He looks like he's about to explode. His jaw clenched painfully hard, his face growing redder and redder.

But you don't look away from him. You stand your ground. Did he want to take his anger out on you? Fine, as long as he got everything out of his system.

“How dare you insinuate something so dumb about me? No one could ever make me feel insignificant. I am Edward Nygma! The Riddler! I'm above everyone else in this stupid city,” Edward snarls through clenched teeth, pointing accusingly at you. “Including you, Doctor. Don't think you can solve me. Don't pretend you understand me!"

“But I want to understand. I really want. Edward, please. Let me help you.”

“Enough of this selfless bullshit! Do you want to help me, Doctor? Let's see if you're still like this after I'm done with your furball! Maybe I'll make a scarf out of your darling kitten. What do you think?"

On your first day on the job you were told that patients could make threats, but that you shouldn't worry because they were usually empty, just a way for patients to scare therapists.

But what you felt wasn't fear. What hit you was a sudden wave of anger. If Edward wanted to push you over your limits he finally did.

“Please, Edward. Tell me what my poor cat did to be the target of your wrath. Did she steal money from the poor? Or maybe she is involved in a corruption scheme? We both know you would never attack a defenseless animal.” You can't contain the anger in your voice. Now you were the one ready to explode.

The expression on Edward's face changes dramatically. He just stares at you silently, eyes wide in chock. He almost looked scared to see you react after so many insults.

You keep going. “Attack me all you want, I can take it, but never, ever threaten Meg like that again. If this happens again I will not hesitate to send you to another therapist.”

The flame of his rage burns out, until there was nothing left. Edward takes a deep breath as he presses himself against the chair, his ego seeming to deflate like a balloon.

Something in your stomach turns over seeing him like that. The Riddler. The most narcissistic, self-absorbed man in Gotham suddenly looked so small. As much as you needed to set limits, you couldn't shake out a feeling of guilt.

“Did your mother make you feel insignificant too?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. As if he feared anyone else would hear.

You recompose yourself in your chair, your anger slowly easing. “Yes, besides other things. If I disobeyed or simply did not fit the expectations, I was punished.”

“You said you sometimes scratch your burn. Why?"

You let out a sigh. "Edward, we're not here to talk about me."

"Please." The request seems so genuine and Edward stares at you like a sorry puppy. You can't help how gentle your voice comes out.

“Sometimes the pain can serve as way to cope, but it's a bad habit and I'm trying to stop. That's why I adopted Meg.” It felt right to tell Edward this. Despite everything it felt right to tell him this. Maybe you weren’t so different, even if he was a criminal.

“Can you bring me another book?” He sounds shy, staring at his hands as he picks at his fingernails. For the first time you can see the small scars and calluses that covered the skin of his hands.

“Of course, Edward. Another puzzle book?”

His cheeks flush in the bright light of the room. “No, I was thinking of something different this time, maybe a literary book. What do you think of Frankenstein?” He proposes awkwardly.

A mad scientist tormented by his own creation. It suited Edward.

“I'll see what I can do. We're done for today, but I'd like to continue this conversation in the next session."

Edward doesn't look back as he is led back to his cell. This time you're the one watching him until he's out of sight.

——

Unlike Director Sharp's office, Dr. Young's office had good lighting and was ventilated.

Dr. Young had definitely opted for a more minimalist style. The furniture was simple with grayish colors. All the books, files, and paperwork were neatly organized. There were no decorations, except for the picture of her family on the desk.

You settle into the uncomfortable chair, checking the clock on the wall one more time. This time it was Dr. Young who was a few minutes late for the meeting.

A part of you wanted so bad to explore the room. You imagined what it would be like to read her files and notes, see a small fragment of her amazing mind.

Those thoughts are send away when the door behind you opens, Dr. Young's footsteps alerting you of her presence.

“Sorry for my delay. I had some work to finish, but I'm here now.” She passes you, a file under her arm.

She goes to the metal cabinet behind her desk, opening one of the bottom drawers. You catch a quick glimpse of the file before it disappears, managing to make out the name "Titan" on the cover.

“Have you been waiting for too long?” she asks as she closes the drawer, causing your gaze to turn to her again.

“Only a few minutes, but no problem.” You smile understandably, trying to hide your how tired you were after a long day.

She sits across from you, hands clasped together on the table.

"Director Sharp apologizes for not being able to be here, unfortunately he had other matters to attend to."

That explained why you weren't in his office. "I understand. But my next update wasn't for another two weeks.”

“You see, Director Sharp has proposed an idea for the treatment of Edward Nygma and I think it would be a good way to improve his condition.”

You frown slightly, unable to hide your displeasure. Quincy Sharp might be the director of the asylum, but he was no therapist. Despite this you nod your head for her to continue.

“We thought it would be a good idea to start shock therapy with Mr. Nygma.”

The words are so wrong in your ears and for a moment you hope you heard wrong.

“Wh… what?” You stare at her open-mouthed.”

“No need to be worried, Doctor. Shock therapy can be very helpful in treating patients.”

"Of course, but only in cases of the violent ones or those with severe depression. And that’s not his case.”

Your heart is pounding against your ribs as if you've run a marathon. Your hands cold and covered in sweat.

Keeping silent and accepting orders from your superiors was so much easier, you always hated confrontation. But you couldn't let them do that to Edward, he didn't need or deserve something as drastic as shock therapy.

How could Quincy Sharp suggest something like that? And worse, Dr. Young seemed to agree with him.

You swallow hard, trying to pull yourself together. “Dr. Young, as Edward's therapist I don't think this is the best solution for his behavior."

She raises an eyebrow. “Edward? I would advise to not be on first name basis with the subjects. It encourages them to get…attached.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Why did you feel like you were caught doing something wrong?

“I prefer patients to feel more comfortable during sessions, but that's not the point. I remain against shock therapy.”

Dr.Young stands up with a sigh, walking around the table to your side. She towers over you, staring down at you with her green cold eyes. You can't help but feel small in front of her.

A gentle hand covers your shoulder. “You know what we do here is for the good of the patients, don't you? I would never suggest something I didn't believe was necessary." She smiles at you, but instead of being comforting it makes the hair on your nape stand up.

“Y-yes, Dr. Young.”

“I will trust your decision, but think more about our idea, alright?”

You nod, a feeling of unease running through your body.

As you get up to leave you stop in front of the door, turning to face Dr. Young once more.

“Earlier, when you talked about calling patients by their first names, you called them subjects.”

Her gaze remains on you, but her smile falters slightly. "Did I? I didn't even notice. Forgive me, I must be tired.”

The explanation doesn't sound convincing, but you would accept it for now.

#the riddler fanfic #the riddler x reader #edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #the riddler fanfiction #the riddler smut #the riddler x you #arkham riddler

[professors-polycule]

Good Morning everyone!

I‘ve never done something like this on the internet before, so forgive me if I don‘t do it right. Usually I‘m in contact with a local shelter who does this, but I think it might good to try and reach people from across the world!

This is an Adoption Spotlight for two Pokémon.

As I‘ve said before, I‘m researching Hybrid-Pokémon. And one of these research projects has come to an end, which is why I‘m adopting it out.

These Pokémon are: Arthur the Rhyperior-Aggron Hybrid and Lancelot the Aggron. They have been raised together and are good friends, so I would prefer to adopt them out together, however this is not a requirement. My team and I believe they will accept being seperated.

Their Portfolio will be under the cut!

Arthur the Ryhperior-Aggron Hybrid:

Physical Attributes:

Age: 5 years

Size: 224cm (7‘4“)

Gender: Male

Designated Level: 68

Type: Rock/Steel

Primary Species: Rhyperior

Secondary Species: Aggron

Nature: Relaxed

Ability: Lightning Rod

Hidden Power: Grass

Moves: Rock Wrecker, Dig, Metal Burst, Thunder Punch

Mega-Capable: does not show any reaction to Aggronite, future success unlikely

(more info can be provided if necessary)

Additional Info:

Arthur is a very social Pokémon. He likes having people and Pokémon around and is not picky in choosing his company, however he‘s not doing well with children. He‘s afraid of hurting them. Pokémon of any kind are not an issue with this, though he tends to prefer other large Pokémon to spend time with for the same reason he's not doing well with human children, if given the choice.

Arthur likes battling and excercise in a non-competitive setting. He likes sparring with Lancelot as well as other Pokémon, but rarely wants to finish a fight with a knockout. He is suitable as a battling pokémon, but not for high level fighting and competitive tournaments. If he‘s not going to be a battling Pokémon, please ensure he can get enough exercise otherwise.

Arthur has not shown particular interest in activities that would be associated with Pokémon Contests, but might interest to him.

Arthur likes being outside and staying up late and watch the night sky, but can adapt to any schedules easily.

Arthur has been gifted a signed focus sash by a prominent figure. He is very attached to this item, and whoever adopts him should take the item with them. Please be sure to remove the Sash before any battle to avoid breaking it.

While Rhyperior are usually herbivores, Arthur is unable to sustain himself off a plant-based diet. He can digest fruits and berries, but has trouble with more fibrous materials like roots and leaves. Instead, his Aggron-genes allow him to digest minerals.

Arthur should be on a terravore diet, consisting of different rocks, metals and soils, in particular iron and iron-alloys. You should also be aware that he is slightly allergic to copper and tungsten. Arthur won‘t have serious issues if there are occasional traces in his food, but large amounts will give him trouble sleeping, bellyaches and even induce swelling if he consumes these metals excessively. Because of his sturdy and barely elastic armor, these swellings can cause serious troubles and injury.

At the same time, he does like eating gemstones, particularly jade. He also has a soft spot for Oran Berries and Oran-Berry-based treats, he could eat them all day long.

While Rhyperior are usually very adverse to water because of their typing, Arthur does not share this trait and is indifferent towards it. He endures cleaning with water, but is not looking forward to it. Dry grooming methods are recommended.

More detailed care guidelines will be provided before adoption.

Lancelot the Aggron:

Physical Attributes:

Age: 5 years

Size: 207cm (6‘9“)

Gender: Male

Designated Level: 75

Type: Steel/Rock

Breed: Standard

Nature: Adamant

Ability: Heavy Metal

Hidden Power: Electric

Moves: Heavy Slam, Metal Burst, Earthquake, Dragon Claw

Mega-Capable: has not been capable yet, future success will require training and a strong bonding.

(more info can be provided if necessary)

Additional Info:

Lancelot is a decently social Pokémon and will take his time to get to know new people and Pokémon, but will warm up to almost anybody. He has no issues with any kind of person or pokémon, but will show a sense of competitiveness with others in a similar size-category to himself (mainly Pokémon, but he has tried to challenge myself after he evolved as well as other large people.) Supervision with children is advised, he can be a little bit rough sometimes. Sadly, we did not have the capabilties to properly train him for this, but we have laid the groundwork. He knows how to behave, he just gets carried away at times.

Lancelot likes battling and physical exercise, especially if he can use his body weight (e.g. pushing/pulling heavy objects). He can be very competitive in battling and be a sore loser if he loses a battle badly (regular sparring against fighting types is not recommended), but given a few minutes to an hour and the possibility to vent his anger, he will be his joyful self in no time again. He is recommended to be a battling pokémon.

Lancelot has not shown particular interest in activities that would be associated with Pokémon Contests, but might interest him.

Lancelot also does not like being cramped inside small rooms, having an outside area for him is required.

Lancelot likes to play shot put with heavy iron balls. If you don‘t possess one or more of them, we have an assortment of which a few can be adopted out with him. Providing this enrichment for him is no requirement, but would make Lancelot happy.

General Aggron-Line care instructions, dietary restrictions and so on apply for Lancelot. Guidelines for Aggron care can be provided at request.

If you're interested, reach out to me personally through this blog or send a message to the MUPS. Please be advised that caring for a Hybrid-Pokémon can be intense and time-consuming and brings special challenges with it.

//just send an ask or reblog or send a DM

Please keep in mind that these Pokémon are of a significant size and require a lot more space than typical pet-pokémon as well.

signed:

Professor Boris Musa

Director of the Marawhetu University of Pokémon Sciences

#adoption spotlight #hybrid pokemon #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #my art #long post

[sinful-indulgences]

Ok, so I’m almost certain Claude is a black widow spider, which for those of you who don’t know much about that species…

The females are bigger than the males and eat them right after sex, so the males are more submissive by nature. The males of the species have learned ways to avoid getting eaten and they are kinda cute.

They will bring food to the female they want to mate with to swoon her (and so she isn’t hungry after sex) and while she eats, the make sometimes gives back rubs/massages! They also bring gifts, and if the female lets him leave?

The male returns to her the next breeding season and does the same thing! Idk if they remember preferences or not but it’s cool to read about!!

So another way (that’s less successful) is the make ties up the female, then they have sex, however the females are stronger than the males, so they can usually break out it easily. Also the make doesn’t ‘trap’ her since he obviously doesn’t want to get her killed and if she doesn’t get out before they are done, males have been seen intentionally loosening the silk.

(Im scared of spiders, but I love learning about this stuff !! Most of this is from memory of a college class I took 2 years ago so it my be a little wonky!)

Because I’m a slut for monster fucking, I had to make this about fucking a certain spider demon!

Claude honestly seems like the type who probably has thought about sex a fair amount, but never tried it and since he’s a spider demon, I imagine he’s lowkey terrified to have sex, he doesn’t want to get eaten after all.

He knows how to court though, he’s done that a fair amount, he just chickens out when it gets to anything more.

Then you come along, another spider demon.

It’s rare for demons to come across ones in the same group category as they are, so to say he was shocked was an understatement.

Though you seemed indifferent, which made him want you more. He sort of forgets that demons have pheromones…

Needless to say, in less than a day you had him in your bed waiting for you to touch him. Claude was so caught in the moment (and pent up) that he didn’t think about if you were going to eat him.

That was until he realizes you tied him down, naked with your silk. He just stupidly trapped himself because he had been blinded by lust.

And the most frustrating part?

You’re taking your sweet time with him, slowly making your way towards his hardening cock. It was a little overwhelming when you took the whole thing in your mouth and started to suck it harshly.

Claude can’t control the moans that escape, it concerns him with how skilled you are, you’ve probably used this as a trick to distract previous mates. As much as it worried him, he was vaguely intrigued.

Demons are naturally greedy, Claude worried you’ll simply get impatient and eat him during the session. After all, a demons hunger is insatiable, correct?

Claude was taken out of his train of thought when you suddenly let go of his cock, mounting him and slamming yourself down on his cock. Claude couldn’t stop himself from going limp under you, not even bothering to pretend to struggle.

Your heat around such a sensitive area made him feel like he was melting. Claude whimpers out a warning that he’s close, he’s not even sure if it’s a good idea to tell you that, but you sped up.

As Claude tipped closer to the edge, he quickly realized that you hadn’t made a sound, looking up, you’re staring right at him, a smug smile, widening with every sound you pull from him, and a thought crosses his mind.

You’re only doing it to make him cum inside you. Claude can’t help but shiver, realizing he’s too close to stop it now, shit, would you at least be merciful?

Claude is taken aback when you bottom out, your walls suddenly tightening around him like you were trying to milk him. It works though, he’s shaking as he cums inside you. The entire time he’s trembling, wondering what you’ll do to him next.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to keep going.

His breathing hitched as his cock spikes in sensitivity. You finally make a sound and to his confusion you’re laughing at him. Claude worries that maybe you really do intend to eat him while you ride him,

You lean down, face in his neck, nipping at the unprotected flesh. He closes his eyes fully expecting you to tear apart. You don’t do that though, you just keep riding him.

To his embarrassment, his cock is just as excited as you are, he cries out as he’s forced into another orgasm. It leaves him trembling under you as you continue to fuck him into the ground.

Oh you were keeping him. You already made up your mind, he’d make a better mate than snack.

#my writing #random thoughts #nsft #claude x reader #claude faustus #high brain #spider demon! reader #tw cannibalism #demon biology #sub claude faustus

[evolutionsvoid]

Ho boy, where do we even begin with these things? How do I write this entry without going insane? No real clue. I have to say that I try my best to keep things fair for all the species I write about, regardless if I like them or not. No one is reading my work solely because they want to know what my top ten favorite animals are, they want information! So even if I despise a certain beast, it is my duty to share straight knowledge and facts without steeping it in bias and personal opinions. However, thinking about this species gives me a headache, and it only gets worse as I delve deeper into the details. So I ask for the dear reader to forgive me if I diverge a bit or get a little negative in some parts. I don't mean to do that, but I can't guarantee anything! Now on to the Boracund! The Boracund are a mammalian species, with their relations tied to pigs and boars. With a porcine frame, a signature snout and those nasty tusks, it is easy to see how the three are alike. How they are different should be pretty obvious too, unless all your ham wears armor. Covering the top of the body, tail and upper limbs of the Boracund is a hefty layer of boney scutes and keratin scales. This home-grown armor is surprisingly durable, as it can withstand blades and even deflect arrows! Obviously it is used for protection, though the Boracund tend to use this defense more for other Boracund! This is because of those giant tusks that the Boracund possess, which can easily slice through flesh and gore a hapless victim. Both male and female Boracund grow tusks, but it is the male's teeth that grow to such an impressive, and deadly, size. When your rivals carry around such weaponry, armor is pretty much a must! The habitats they should prefer are in temperate climates, and they tend to be found in forests and surrounding areas. They like forests that produce a lot of mast (which means the fruit of forest trees, for those who don't know), as it provides a steady food source and also lures in other tasty treats. Like many members of the pig family, the Boracund are omnivorous, eating pretty much anything they can get into their mouths. With powerful jaws, razor tusks and a big appetite, there isn't a whole lot these fellas won't eat. Fallen fruits and nuts are a common meal for them, as well as small reptiles, mammals, eggs, and even carrion. Their snouts and teeth can also aid in digging up roots and tubers, which they will also happily devour. They are also capable of downing prey with the help of numbers, as this species travels in sizeable sounders. They rarely go after creatures larger then them and tend to only take advantage of the sick or weak. It is said that predators who live in Boracund territory must be fast in dispatching prey, lest a sounder descend upon the injured target and devour it. With the ability to take advantage of many food sources, it is easy to see how this species is so freakishly adaptable. What an utterly wonderful trait.    

  During most parts of the year, Boracund travel in these sounders, with them usually divided into male and female groups. The females sounders will possess multiple mothers with various litters of piglets, who all live under the watch of a matriarch. The male groups, however, have little leadership to them, working more as a friendly crowd that enjoy the benefits that sheer numbers bring. Their time is either spent searching for food, resting in their home shelters or grooming. Their version of grooming and hygiene is taking mud baths, as it helps cool their bodies as well as remove parasites. Things change up for all these sounders when the breeding season kicks in. When it is time to mate, the males grow rather irritable and obsessed, their family groups dissolving as they search for viable sows. Driven by the season and hormones, they scour the land for females, barely eating or slowing during their pursuit. When they find a female sounder, they begin to mark their territory. The piglets and other young members of the group are attacked and driven off, though the ancient matriarch is quick to protect them if things get too violent. Crazed males that kill piglets can incite the wrath of the matriarch, whose age and experience often makes them powerful foes. As long as the male does not cross this line, then they may remain with this sounder and attempt to claim it. Since the first male that enters this sounder is rarely the last, they must turn to defend their claim from rivals. Other males will soon arrive and they will fight to be the top hog. These battles are brutal and bloody, with tusks and hoof leaving terrible injuries. Even decked out in armor, male Boracund get pretty mangled during these fights. When the breeding season comes to a close, all viable females will be carrying, eventually giving birth to four to eight piglets. With a litter that size, and with that many females per sounder, you can see that this species has quite the population boom each season! Why, their reproductive rate is so high, its almost like you could harvest entire sounders and the population would bounce right back without hardly a stumble. How delightful. An incredibly interesting thing to note about the Boracund is that their breeding season can undergo a bizarre change every so often. A decade could go by with things going as normal, males running after females and what not, but then suddenly the next year will become something quite strange. After years of study, the consensus is that this unique breeding season is triggered by a high population of Boracund. When their numbers within an area reaches a critical peak, something in their bodies will be set off when the breeding season kicks in. This powerful change seems to only affect the males, if the females are involved then it is very subtle. When this switch is flipped in the males, their bodies undergo a terrifying transformation. Their armor darkens until it is almost black and their fur takes on a reddish hue. From numerous bony protrusions and pedicles that run along their body, velvety growths will begin to form. Much like the antler of a deer, these structures are growing something flashy and pointy, but it is rarely classy. They will grow all across the head and body of the male Boracund during the build-up to the breeding season, and you can already notice that they are growing agitated. The male sounders will break apart long before the season gets into swing, as they are driven into an angered state from the growths. Just as the season is about to start, the velvet will fall away, or rather be torn off in bloody strips. The furious males will rip apart this fuzzy sheathe to reveal a horrible dagger made of bone. What emerges from this gory ceremony is a beast covered snout to hoof in twisted, gnarled spikes. Bony jagged "teeth" now run on the outside of their jaws, while skewering spines line their backs. Bony spurs jut from their legs, while ivory wings sprout from their shoulders. The whole beast is now loaded with pointy bits and terrible weapons, which fits quite well for what comes next. Not only do their bodies transform, but so do their minds. It isn't so much a "transformation" but more of a "degradation." These males go absolutely berserk. The hormones in their body drive them to an even crazier state, which is further fueled by their gnarled bodies. You see, these bony growths aren't usually shaped to fit their bodies. Their formation is quite erratic, often leading to bony blades that hurt the very beast that wears them. I have seen a male Boracund who was so overgrown with these nasty things that they couldn't even open their mouth, the teeth-like formations grew around the jaw and forced it shut. Even then, its head was covered in gashes and bloody tears, as its attempts to open its jaw just caused its weaponry it dig into its own hide. Absolutely horrible! This pain puts them in a constant rage, and all this is directed into this bizarre breeding season. Now decked out in weapons and on the warpath, the males turn into rabid beasts that rip apart the countryside. They plow through the landscape in search of sows, but they are so blinded by their terrible state that they will literally throw themselves at walls in order to get to a female. What was once a fight between males to claim a group of sows has now become a bloody frenzy, with males shredding each other in the madness. Their battles seem to have no end in this state, they just tear each other to pieces. They lose any concept of surrendering or accepting defeat, they just throw themselves at each other until only one remains standing. Even the females aren't spared! Younger ones who do not have the strength to withstand such punishment can be butchered in the melee, slaughtered by the bloodthirsty males who have lost themselves to this agonizing frenzy. Eventually, the carnage will end and the season will finish. What males remain will lose their extra growths and revert back to normal, while the surviving females raise the new batch of piglets. This horrific breeding season is referred to as "Devil's Rut," when this species goes into this self-destructive state. It is believed that this event occurs to help regulate the population, only activating when their numbers reach a critical state. Too many Boracund could lead to all food sources being wiped out, which would leave them to starve. Reducing their numbers through this season, as well as cutting out those too weak to handled it, helps the population remain stable and strong. Thank goodness it takes years for such a thing to occur, right? RIGHT?!       I have to imagine that some folk have read through this entry and come to a realization. "Hey, Chlora," you may wonder, "you said this species likes temperate climates and lives in the woods, right?" To that I would say, "yes, I did!" With that confirmation you may reply "but I don't live near such a habitat, and yet I see the Boracund everywhere! Why is that?" This would call for a congratulations on my part, as you have read my entry and taken its word to heart. Thank you for your attention and mindfulness! Indeed, you have seen Boracund in a habitat I haven't mentioned and that is because, dear reader, THEY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! Boracund love temperate climates, they love forests! You know what else they love? EVERYTHING! Marshes, deserts, fields, grasslands, mountains, you name it, they stole it! Their ability to eat practically anything combined with their adaptable lifestyle and hardy bodies means they can live wherever they blighting please! There are populations of them scattered all across the globe, and every living thing that has to put up with them feels that presence! They strip the land bare with their feeding! They steal resources from other creatures! They tear up vegetation and plants that should have been safe from herbivory! They even chase predators away from their kills! They are a disease, and we cannot seem to freaking stop them! You slaughter a whole sounder of them and they just all pop back after the next breeding season! They reproduce so quickly and they don't go down without a fight! This isn't like the pig farm, you can't just round them up and give them the axe! They are armored, they are vicious and they are cunning! Kill one and the rest scatter into the wilderness! Set one trap and they learn to avoid that area! It is maddening! And to make it all worse is the fact that they undergo that Devil's Rut. When that kicks in, they are a threat to everything. They become insanely aggressive and incredibly dangerous. Driven by smell and pain, they will go after anything they see as a threat or anything they think is a female. Pig farmers have talked about these wild Boracund attempting to break into their own pens to get at domesticated sows, as they mistake them for their own kind. The damages are insane, and that doesn't include the fact that they can maim and kill anyone who tries to stop them! Crops are ruined and trips into the wilderness become dangerous. If you live in an area that is undergoing Devil's Rut, do not let your children outside of the town! These things are dangerous and they will attack anything they come across. Keep your saplings inside and don't even venture out there yourself! Cities and towns lock up their gates during these ruts and many warriors have been hired to ward off these crazed beasts. Good thing this only occurs about once every ten years! Whoops, did I say "ten?" Because with their exploding numbers, it takes half the time to trigger a Devil's Rut in areas they have been introduced! HOW WONDERFUL! They are a plague wherever they have been introduced, as the ecosystem is not designed to handle them! "So if they are invasive," you may ask, "How did they get here?" SO GLAD YOU ASKED Due to their large size, signature armor and impressive weaponry, there are some folk out there that would see them as a beautiful hunting trophy. Look at those tusks! Look at that armor! Think of how much meat we could get off that beast! What a dream, they think, AND THAT IS ALL THEY THINK! They just want to be the cool guy who has a big devil pig stuffed in their study so they can show off to all their friends and be like "look how cool and tough I am!" And then all their stupid friends would think "gosh gee I need one of these crazy beasts in my domicile so that I may too show off how big and cool I am!" And when you get enough people thinking that, then you get the idiots who think "well, all these people want to hunt this big awesome pig monster, why don't I import some for easy cash!" And then they do, and they build a hunting ranch specifically for hunting Boracund so that they can fill their coffers with all the money these showoffs will throw at them and then use none of that gold to BUILD A DECENT FENCE! Nope, just some posts and some boards, that is enough to keep these monstrous creatures contained! Lo and behold, they break out and vanish into the wilderness, where they may breed like rabbits and infest countless habitats! NOW THEY ARE EVERYWHERE, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!? Oh of course they are! They are thrilled! "I can just go into my backyard and kill one, all while wearing my bathrobe! What's that? Dozens of species are threatened and entire ecosystems are being ravaged by these things? Well, who cares? I get to bag me a pig!" Those gall-headed weeds don't give an ounce of care for the systems they rely upon for their wonderful hobby! What about all the crop damage?! What about all the people who are vulnerable to these beasts?! Not every town has the means to ward them off, and the damage and injury that occurs is horrible! Markets raided, people attacked! It is insanity! It has gotten so bad in some regions that people have called them "Pig Dragons!" OF COURSE THEY DID! NOT ONLY DO THEY DESTROY THINGS, NOW THEY HAVE TO BEAR THAT CURSED NAME! You want a dragon?! I will show you a dragon! You all laugh at me when I talk about the "Dragon's Pig Program," but if I can get that going then there is hope! What better beast to help harvest these monsters than actual dragons?! These animals are a hefty source of meat and hunting them is crucial! If I can convince enough dragons to turn their attention towards this species for a potential food source, then their populations could be easily reduced! I think it is a genius idea, but oh no all the fancy aristocrats are like "Dragons? Near my land? Unacceptable! Those ugly beasts will cause so much damage!" UNLIKE THE HOG MONSTERS YOU PEOPLE BROUGHT OVER! You cause this huge problem and then stick up your nose at every solution! Just because it doesn't affect you! Well you listen hear you overgrown, blight-filled piece of rot! If I ever get my hands on you I am going to take that fancy hunting spear of yours and*   *No further text is provided, save for mention by the editor that several pages have been removed. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian --------------------------------------------------- Behold! The long awaited Pig "Dragon!"  And by long awaited, I mean that I once offhandedly mentioned something about a Pig Dragon in a description I wrote years ago. I am sure no one remembers me naming such a thing, but my memory exists solely to torment me and couldn't let it go.

#pig #hog #boar #swine #monster #creature #art #drawing

[azazelsconfessional]

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

#ooc #((anyway i'm gonna open the askbox and crawl into a hole)) #((i got nothing done lol i was so engaged with something else all week))

[giorno-plays-piano]

Yandere alien Bucky x astronaut darling

I find this request very unique! I’ve never actually thought about this before, so thank you for bringing this creative idea <3

P.S. The action takes place in the future.

The Reason

Pairing: alien!Bucky Barnes x astronaut!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, death of minor characters, allusion to breeding and non-con.

Words: 2985.

_____________________

When you finally managed to open your eyes, everything was pitch black for a couple of minutes. Your body hurt so much as if someone threw you into a well, then pulled your dead body out, and threw it back in. The oxygen mask on your face felt heavy as hell.

You easily recognized the monotonous sounds of life support system since it wasn’t your first space mission. Damn, what had happened? Did you finally get that significant brain damage Dr. Strange was so concerned about? You didn’t remember blacking out so violently after your last spaceflights. This one wasn’t even your longest.

When you saw the room, you stared at the unnaturally high ceiling that you couldn’t blame on your blurry vision. It just didn’t look the same. Did they move the Adaptation Center to a new building or something? Did Dr. Strange mentioned it before? You couldn’t remember, really. You didn’t think he did.

Despite the fact that you felt weightless, moving your body seemed nearly impossible as you struggled to move your legs. Shit, and there you thought those magic drugs NASA offered you last time were way better than their usual treatments. 

Wait. You didn’t finish your mission. You weren’t returning to Earth yet as you had around 6 more months to spend in space. Had something happened? Did Dr. Str-

Oh yes. Dr. Strange was dead. You still remembered his face when Sergeant Barnes, an extraterrestrial from Theseus-17, had shot him right in front of you.

When you saved them from their greatly damaged spacecraft, it was five of them: Steve Rogers, the Captain, their leader; Tony Stark, the Pilot; Bruce Banner, the Doctor; Vision, the Pastor, and James Buchanan Barnes, the Soldier. All of them simply used human analogues of their true names, but the members of your crew didn't protest: since Theseus-17 was incredibly far even for your highly technologically advanced spaceships, you knew very little of its inhabitants. Apparently, they attempted to establish a good relationship between your races - especially since you had so much biological similarities. In fact, they might be the closest to humans among other species you had ever encountered before, you thought.

Well, it was true, but you failed to see they would use it to their advantage to the fullest.

They were a militaristic alien race with predominantly male population controlled by stratocratic government. Their planet was three times smaller than Earth, but their technological advancement was unbelievable, especially compared to human's: it allowed them to invade several other small planets and colonize them in the past. However, due to some extreme DNA mutations, their female population was declining decade after decade resulting in zero births over the last five years. The Hydrarirans, as they called themselves, were rapidly facing extinction, Steve told you while explaining the reasons why they were so far from their home.

You had a pretty long talk after Bucky had shot Dr. Strange, and Tony strangled Wong. You barely remembered what had happened next, though you could guess you ended up being drugged by Hydrarians. Fuck. Did you send a signal back to Earth? You couldn't tell. Well, you certainly remembered Dr. Strange sending a message about saving the crew of Theseus-17 spacecraft. If you went missing, it would be a clear sign of something going very wrong.

But you still were God knew where. Gradually becoming extremely nervous with each passing second, you looked at the countless wires attached to your body and started to pull, forcefully taking them out of your skin and silently crying - you didn't remember feeling so much pain since the times of your first space mission. Violently throwing away the oxygen mask, you crawled on the bed until you fell to the floor with a loud thud. Shit.

You stayed there for a couple of minutes, afraid Hydrarians would quickly discover what you were doing, but since you heard nothing, you crawled further from bed to a wide glass wall, your vision still blurry. Where were you? It didn't feel like a spacecraft. It felt like you were brought to an unknown planet, and when you saw two red suns shining in the black sky, you realized it was exactly like Steve described his planet to you.

No, no, it couldn't be. Theseus-17 was God knew how many light years away. Their ship wasn't in the condition to fly you there so fast, yours even less so, and you certainly hadn't been put in a cryostasis. However, how well did you know what technology these alien freaks possessed? What if they could be using some teleport able to cover enormous distances? It could easily be an option.

Crawling further to the window, you had finally reached it and touched its cold surface. It certainly looked and felt like a glass beneath your palm.

The black meadows you stared upon were nothing like the ones you saw from a window of the little house where you spent your childhood. This place was wicked, evil. You could feel it in the air as you inhaled that strange, sickly sweet oxygen or whatever it was. No wonder their women couldn't handle living here, and you wouldn't last here either. It was clear what you were brought here for, and even the thought of it was repulsive to you. How dare they? How barbaric were these freaks, intending to use human women as some breeding machinery? If their military experiments made them facing extinction, then let it be, you thought, horrified and disgusted at the same time.

You rubbed your droopy eyes, feeling the wetness on the back of your palm as you tried not to cry, thinking what were your options except to submit silently to your abductors. How were you going to navigate a ship back home? How were you going to steal a ship? Actually, how were you going to leave this damn room, considering that your body was almost unable to move because of the time you spent in space? Recovery would take quite some time, unless Hydrarians had advanced medical support for cosmonauts. You hoped they did, because spending months to recover while staying with these savages wasn't an option.

Huh, it was better to listen to your mom and become a doctor. Now you'd be sitting in your cabinet and listening to concerns of elderly ladies, not being locked away on a planet with no female population. You had hard times imagining what they would do to you if you end up being thrown in a crowd of mad men yearning for intimacy for years.

Rubbing your eyes again, you exhaled loudly. You were in deep, deep shit.

When the white wall beside you suddenly moved to the side, allowing a tall, menacing man in a black military suit to enter, you held your breath, watching Sergeant Barnes walking into the room. You thought of his metal hand with a red star engraved on it - he could snap your neck with one swift motion if he wanted to, though he could probably do it with his flesh hand, too. Certainly, he was both skilled in combat and cybernetically enhanced, so escaping with him guarding you would be extremely problematic. You'd prefer to meet Vision instead of the grim Soldier.

"What are you doing, woman?" Barnes asked as he saw you on the floor with your back pressed to the glass wall, your arms bleeding from violently tearing the wires of the life support system out of your body. Apparently, you didn't look as good as he expected you to.

"A woman has a name." You said sternly, watching one of your abductors marched through the room and trying your best not to tremble. If he was raised in a stratocratic society, he valued power and strong will more than anything else, probably, so you had to pull yourself together.

“I am sorry.” He suddenly said, bowing his head as he stood right in front of you. “If it pleases you, I will refer to you by your name only, Y/N.”

You blinked, your vision still unfocused and blurry - a part of you was thankful for that since you couldn’t see Soldier’s face clearly. You doubted he looked very friendly, despite talking to you with some respect.

“Don’t touch me.” You commanded as he leaned closer to take you back to bed, his shiny combat boots touching your bare leg just slightly, making you shiver involuntarily.

“We have medication to nurse you back to health, but you still need the life support system. Please, do not resist.” Sergeant Barnes once again tried to pick you up, but you grabbed him by the wrist instead, silently staring at his pale face half-covered by that black mask he wore.

The man got silent and froze on the spot, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes. He certainly didn’t seem menacing or angry, but there was something in him you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Why wasn’t he upset by your behavior? Soldier didn’t try grabbing you forcefully, nevertheless.

Could it be your contact, then? You might be the first woman to touch him in years. Thinking of it, the very next moment you recoiled, crawling away to increase the distance between you two.

Maybe the man was disappointed, but you couldn’t see it with that blank expression he wore as he suddenly sat down on the floor close to you, and then took his mask away, showing you his rather handsome, yet gloomy face. He looked... human, and it truly scared you. 

“I know you think we are a threat to you, but we are not.” He said calmly, watching you. “I will not hurt you. I promise.”

You were ready to laugh at that. “You’ve killed my crew, people who I’d been working with for years.”

“Yes, and I am sorry for that. It was necessary.”

Necessary. What an interesting word he found to describe what he and his comrades had done.

“Don’t you understand what will happen once people from Earth learn about you and things you did?” As he cocked his head to the side, his dark uneven hair falling on his shoulder, you realized he wasn’t scared at all. “We can wipe you out of existence. Even if all of your kind are soldiers, there are billions of us, humans. You aren’t a threat.”

“We are not trying to be one.”

He extended his hand in attempt to touch you, but you recoiled and crawled away a bit further, narrowing your eyes at Sergeant. Whatever he was doing, it couldn’t be good for you.

“Please, do not be afraid. Right now you are the most precious being on our planet, and anyone trying to hurt you will be beheaded at the very least.” 

Of course, you were. If Captain told you the truth, you were the one and only young woman on Hydra. You would be treasured, but you dreaded what they would do to you. Even thinking of it made you face twist in revulsion.

“What makes you think using me like a cattle won’t hurt me?”

“A cattle?”

For a few seconds Soldier got silent, and you realized he was searching the meaning of this word - now you managed to see a strange device on his ear that looked like an old Bluetooth garniture or something. Then the man looked at you with a surprised expression on his face, and you felt an urge to bite your tongue to stop thinking how human he appeared now.

“I assure you, you will never be degraded to such an inferior being. On the contrary, we can give you anything you wish for. I know the status of women on Earth is still far from being equal to men’s, but you are godlike to us.”

Carefully lifting his hand again, Barnes had took a shiny black glove from his flesh arm and showed you his hand with five fingers, spreading them for you to see he was as human as you. For the first time you felt like you wanted to cry, and bit down on your lower lip. God, why? Why did he look just like any other man? Why was he trying to seem kind to you? It would be so much easier if he was hurting you, pressing your face into the floor and binding your arms.

“I swear to you on the name of my mother, I will do anything in my power to make you happy.” 

Apparently, it was some sacred oath, judging by the way his cold blue eyes gleamed, but you weren’t buying it. Make you happy? The one and only thing he could do was letting you go back home, to your own kind, and allow you to forget what had happened above your ship, the image of Dr. Strange with a wide hole in his chest still making you clench your fists.

“Why are you so sure we are a good substitute? If your own women weren’t able to survive here, what makes you think human females can?”

“Because our extensive research proves it. Moreover, a couple of human females have already been living here for several years.” Your face became distorted with horror at his words. “Captain’s wife was even able to give birth to two healthy children this year. They are the first children to be born on our planet in the last five years.”

“Humans will destroy your planet. They will kill all of you when they learn you’re kidnapping our women!”

“We are already in contact with your kind.” Dropping the glove to the floor, Barnes attempted to smile at you, confirming your suspicions he barely knew how to do it. “It is true, you are much greater in number than we are. But all of us are warriors with far more advanced technology and abundant resources. We will be able to damage your planet heavily before you eradicate each and every of us.”

The more he talked, the harder it was to follow - without the life support system, the lack of oxygen was making it harder for you to breathe, impossible to focus as you started breathing heavier, louder than before, but still refused to come back to bed, staring at the man in front of you with disgust and fear. God, it was better to suffocate than stay here with him.

“Do you know we possess twenty times more the amount of Vibranium you humans do?” Crawling closer to you like a spider, Soldier was watching you with both great interest and concern written all over his face. “We also have tritium and plutonium, too, as well as minerals you do not have on Earth at all. We are ready to trade them for something humans have in abundance.”

You were close to vomit, your eyes tearing up as you rubbed them furiously. You tried convincing yourself no one knew you were going to be captured by ruthless aliens. Of course, no one on Earth knew anything about that. There was no agreement between Theseus-17 and Earth to trade women for Vibranium and other resources. It would be direct violations of human rights and...

And it was very likely of humans to do, considering the lack of resources you had been facing over the last couple of decades.

When you started weeping, horrified of the things awaiting you in the nearest future, Sergeant finally reached you, wiping away your tears with his flesh hand. His touch was very subtle, gentle even, as he tenderly pressed his finger to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin. His hand was warm, too.

“It’s not true.” You cried, turning your face to the glass wall and leaving wet marks on it. “They’ll come for me... I won’t become s-some shared property.”

“Of course you will not,” he shushed you gently, enveloping you in what seemed like a hug, lowering your head to his shoulder. “You will be a queen to me. I will treat you right, I swear.”

“You?”

Stilling, you bit down on your tongue, feeling the metallic taste filling your mouth as you drew some blood. Concentrating when your brain was lacking oxygen wasn’t easy, but you could still breathe, inhaling deeply, trying to calm yourself. He said something about Captain’s wife, didn’t he? He said she gave him two children. He said you wouldn’t become a shared property.

Dear Lord.

“I won’t be yours.” You whispered through tears, pushing the man’s chest in desperate attempt to keep him away from you. “I’m not your possession. I won’t be yours!”

You saw him frowning at you, his expression growing darker, more impatient, enraged even as you crawled away from him, your legs too weak to hold you. Oh, he didn’t like you looking at him like that when you realized you were given to him like some prize he won in an amusement park.

But Soldier wasn’t having it. Had you ever thought what it cost him to spend years in combat to earn his privileges, his right to travel among the best of the best? Did you know how much time he travelled across multiple universes to find exactly what he was searching for? Huh, you couldn’t even imagine what he felt when the team got coordinates of your ship, when he saw you for the first time on hologram, smiling and laughing at jokes of Dr. Strange.

Grabbing you forcefully and lifting you off the floor, he raised you in the air above his head, making you silent in fear of being smashed against the floor.

“I have fought for you.” He let out a guttural growl like an animal. “I have killed for you. I have earned my privilege to have you, and no one can challenge my right. You are my woman, and you will stay here with me.”

________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @iheartsebastianstan ​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere #mcu #mcu fanfiction #requests

[softlyjiminie]

oh kitten! | p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): park jimin x cat hybrid!reader, mentions of panther hybrid!jeon jungkook x cat hybrid!reader.

⇢ word count: 2.4K

⇢ genre: smut, fluff, hybrid!au.

⇢ summary: no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. innocent as can be, sweeter than sugar, she was the apple of jimin’s eye, but little did they know, how good she could be.

⇢ warning(s): please read! heavy smut, pwp, dom!jiimin, sub!reader, oral sex (female receiving.), fingering, male masturbation, light exhibitionism,  master kink, corruption kink, degredation kink, god kink if you squint,  mentions of pet play, light choking, spanking, cum play, breeding kink, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): happy new year friends! it is i, your favourite jimin luvr back with a very special gift for miss @fantasybangtan​, gia hit me with this very wonderful and steamy gift, so in my new years haze I managed to throw this little steamy one-shot together! please enjoy this very smutty fic hehe.

no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. jimin already had plenty of girls wrapped around his finger before her, so why did he need a hybrid? the short answer was that he was lonely, looking for someone to take care of and fill the empty space between work, college and parties. but jimin had seen the look of happiness on yoongi’s face that one time,upon seeing his girlfriend  bring in their excitable german shepard hybrid; taehyung  (of course with the permission of their boss seokjin, some establishments didn’t allow hybrids on the premises.)

namjoon, his old roommate had moved out after getting his own cat hybrid, jungkook. the panther hybrid had many lazy tendencies, sometimes aggressive and possessive which had ultimately led namjoon to leave. in other words, jungkook was lazy and mean as fuck. however, he did have his adorable moments. then there was, hoseok who frequently volunteered in a shelter for hybrids. it had been him, the jubilant man,  who helped jimin to find the right hybrid for his home, but the older male would have never suspected his blue haired ‘bad boy’ friend to go for the most innocent little short hair he’d ever seen. 

oh kitty, if hoseok knew how innocent and good she really was. 

YN’s back was arched, dark fluffy tail wrapped around her thigh as she held her ass up high for jimin to see. with dark eyes, jimin nudged her thighs apart with his own, just so he could get a view of her pretty, creamy little pussy. her ears were flat with submission too, making heat crawl down his spine. “look at you kitten,” jimin cooed lowly, crescent moon eyes heavy with seduction. “all spread out for me, like a good little girl.” 

he hummed in satisfaction, watching her tail twitch and ears flicker to place his movement. YN knew he was right behind her, her modified hybrid DNA meant her keen sense of smell could detect his growing arousal and the denim that prevented it from filling her up. she let out a quiet mix between a whimper and a purr, burying her face into the fresh cotton sheets as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to get jimin’s attention. 

hands on her waist stilled the motion, causing YN to glance back over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. jimin smirked, shuffling down the bed with her ass still firmly in grip. the tattooed man yanked at her hips with bruising force,  bringing her sopping heat closer to his face once his knees hit the floor. nose just inches away from her swollen nub, jimin’s  hot breath fanned over YN’s throbbing core and sent her senses into overdrive. “tell me kitten, what was it that you did so wrong? tell master so he can give you what you need baby.”

his voice dripped with mockery, testing all of her self control. jimin had her trained well, to be a good pet, not only when but if he desired it. he loved to see YN on her knees when he came home from a busy day, mouth open and ready to take his fingers spiralled with tattoos. he loved it. she adored it.

“i t-touched myself,” she mewled after jimin pressed his plush lips against her core in a sloppy kiss. he hummed, as if asking her to continue, causing her fingers to grip the sheets. “because the heat, m-my heat was too much!” 

the tattooed man licked a stripe along the length of her dripping cunt, the overflow of her arousal sweet on his tongue. jimin was addicted, senses overflowing with all of her. “what else sweetheart? elaborate for me.” 

“’called taehyungie ‘n hoseok t-to help with my heat-, oh my god!” she squealed when jimin’s skilled tongue slipped past her entrance, feasting on the heavenly nectar that gathered there. YN was sinful, without even trying, her innocence turning the man on beyond compare. corrupting her, tainting his little angel.  jimin moaned into her core, loving how she desperately cried out his name. letting a inked hand run through his teal tinted locks, jimin lifted himself off of his knees and begun to  sooth her whimpers, smoothing over the curve of her ass. “they said- oh my - they said no so i called kookoo to he-help! jimin!” 

the tattooed man growled into her cunt, possessively at the other hybrid’s name. memories only driving him to push his tongue into her pulsing hole, he smirked against her, drawing patterns on her desperate cunt as she cried out. before adopting YN, jimin knew next to nothing about owning and taking care of a hybrid, let alone about their reproductive cycles. so when his kitten fell into her first heat with him,  jimin panicked and immediately took to calling namjoon for advice. 

jimin remembered his face being bright with a red when his little, sweet, innocent kitty begged him to fill her up with his cum. because, sure, park jimin had been with girls before but this was YN and YN was his precious little baby. jimin had never seen her in such a state before, tears pooling in her beautiful, doe eyes like she was in pain. desperately needing something, someone to take the edge off.

namjoon offered up jungkook to help take care of jimin’s darling kitten and of course, he was sceptical. jungkook wasn’t gentle, he couldn’t take care of a little thing like YN. 

but oh how jimin was wrong. 

never in his life, in his time with YN had he heard her scream such filthy words, begging for jungkook to stuff her full of his load and breed her till his heart content. of course the panther obliged, groaning and barking orders into YN’s ear as their skin slapped against each other. 

and so it became a regular occurrence from then on, jimin making a home on the living room couch as jungkook took her round after round after round. YN’s moans  like a sweet melody filling the void of the apartment, causing jimin’s cock to harden in his sweatpants. he should have felt bad, bad for touching himself to orgasm whilst listening to YN being pounded away. it wasn’t until recently, when jimin had confessed his feelings (and jealousy), that he started helping her through the heats. making his name, jimin , the name that she chanted like a mantra.

“minnie, it hurts,” YN gasped, a slur in her words after he’d neglected her cunt for too long. with a teasing smile, jimin withdrew his face from her heat, replacing his tongue with a finger, slowly pumping it knuckle deep within her red hot walls. jimin grinned cockily in delight, feeling her walls take him in like a glove, pushing her (or rather his) sweater over her ass and up to her chest. 

kissing a trail up her back, jimin smiled against the expanse of her skin, reaching her neck and biting down just hard enough to form a love bite. he wanted YN’s skin to shine with his work, painting blue and purple hues across her skin like the night sky. “i know angel,” he murmured softly, millimetres away from her sensitive cat ears. “i’ll take care of you baby, i’ll fill you up so good, fuck you raw and then feed your tight little pussy my cum, would you like that kitten?” jimin’s voice was raspy in her ear, making YN’s chest heave at the thought of jimin inside her spasming walls. a fresh set of tears watered in the cat hybrid’s eyes as jimin’s finger curled, bringing her closer to the edge. stars formed behind cat-like irises as she teetered over the brink of orgasm, the knot in her stomach desperate to uncoil.

but just as quickly as it came, it stopped. “or would you rather kookoo?”

jimin’s whisper was hot against her kitty ears, causing them to twitch as she almost sobbed into the pillow with a shake of her head, moaning out for something, anything. “what about him, kitten? would you prefer if he fucked you like this? tossed you around and filled you up with his seed? hmm?“ jimin spoke harshly, landing a spank to YN’s ass. “i bet you would, all you can think about is being filled with cock and cum, bet you’d take anyone in that filthy cunt of yours.” 

“no, no, no!” YN cried, grinding her ass back into jimin’s jeans, leaving a wet patch at his crotch once she realised he had moved there. “i-i want you, i want you minnie please! don’t want him, don’t want koo, only you...”

the blue haired boy smirked lightly and sat back on his knees, slowly manoeuvring to unbuckle his belt. the clink of metal clanking on metal made the kitty moan in wonton as her ears swivelled at the sound. “say it again.” Jimin commanded, stripping off the rest of his clothes, the scent of his arousal filling his kitten’s nose. “beg for master, darling.”

“please, please i need you, m-master please- ” she didn’t need to say much before he was swiping the swollen, burning red head of his cock along her soaked slit. jimin shuddered above her, easing his thick cock between her folds as he encased the kitten between his arms. his bare chest moulded perfectly with the slope of her back, her ass resting comfortably at his hip. “hmmm minnie...”

in return, jimin gave an experimental thrust of his hips, whimpering into YN’s hair when she clenched around him. “fuck kitten, alway s’fuckin tight for me.” he moaned, thrusting in again, just to hear her little mewl’s of pleasure. the head of jimin’s cock caught on her wet walls, dragging against them as he repeatedly pushed in and out of her hole, abusing the sensitive area by rolling his hips into her constantly.

jimin lifted himself from her back, hands settling on her hips as he pulled her as back onto his cock, watching her cheeks jiggle with every movement. YN’s face was pressed deep into the pillows as she cried out his name, grinding back onto him like her life depended on it. “m-minnie please...” 

“please what kitten?” jimin panted, kissing up her spine again but never slowing the pace of his hips. “what is it that you want, hm? is my cock not enough for you?, greedy girl. want me to go faster? harder?” 

the blue haired male punctuated his words with swirls of his hips, his bright red tip prodding at her g-spot, eliciting a series of purrs from her kitten lips. he ravished the back of her neck once more, pausing his movements to let her roll back onto him feverishly, her cunt clenching right around him as her orgasm drew near. “h-h minnie, oh!” her purrs grew louder, moans reduced to mumbling his name and sighing once the weight of his body was on top of her again.

jimin’s thrusts became erratic, the force behind them more powerful. YN squeezed around his cock, purring for him and sending the vibrations going straight to his dick. “you gonna cum kitten?” he groaned into her hair, caging her in underneath him as he focused on thrusting deep. thick fingers fumbled to flick at her swollen clit with one hand, the other pressed lightly on her neck, forcing his thumb into her hot, wet mouth. “gonna make a mess of my cock?”

“yes! ’m so close,” she slurred, biting into the fabric of the pillow to control herself.

jimin nipped at her ear. “cum for me baby.” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut when she contracted around him one final time, arching her back to rut against him. jimin helped YN ride out her high as she milked his length for all he had, the tightness of her heat becoming too much for him. “where do you want me?”

“c-cum inside me, fill me with your kittens. breed me.” she purred, breathless as she swivelled her hips over his cock, the man above her practically sobbed as he gave a final two thrusts, filling his baby up with his thick hot seed.

jimin felt his arms give out as he collapsed to the side, not daring to crush his precious angel with his body wait. closing his whiskey eyes, jimin stilled to let his breathing calm, only cracking an eye open when YN moved over to give his inked arm appreciative kitten licks. “good? you’re okay, right princess?” he hummed in concern. 

“mhm! thank you jiminie, i think it’s settled for now. could i have some water please?” YN smiles shyly, the dimples in her cheeks returning. jimin chuckled, the switch of her personality reminding him of how innocent she could be and if he wasn’t so tired he knew his cock would have stirred again. with a shake of his blue hair out of his eyes, jimin nodded and sat up, leaning over to grab a bottle of water from the emergency supply under the bed. “thank you!” 

after the first few heats that he’d helped YN with, jimin quickly realised that both she and he would need replenishments if YN were to stay healthy and he were to keep up his stamina to satisfy her. it was a good thing that he could never get enough of her. the inked man watched with tired eyes as YN gulped down the water, trickles falling down the corner of her mouth and dripping onto her bare chest as she swallowed it down easily. 

wonder what else she could swallow like that, jimin thought. a small cough caused him to shift is gaze from his hybrid’s chest and up to her, innocent eyes. “you’re staring, minnie.” YN whined, with a pout on her lips. 

“you’re beautiful, is staring a crime?” he countered, moving to press a kiss where the water lay and followed to trail back up to the corner of her mouth. YN shifted on her knees, gasping quietly at the soft touch. jimin grinned widely against her supple cheek, biting it softly as he sensed another hot rush flooding through her. YN was so responsive to him, and only him. 

it was a privilege that he loved.

“no, but if i didn’t know any better, i would think you were the hybrid in heat...” she gasped, eyes rolling back as jimin moved his hands to cup her breasts. 

“whaddya say baby, another round?” 

“please, master.” she nodded, already moving to straddle jimin’s lap, ready for another round in the sheets. 

oh, what a good kitten she was. 

#ficswithluv #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #btsguild #for gia #bts #bts smut #bts hybrid au #bts au #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts jimn #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin fluff #jungkook #jungkook smut #jimin imagine #jungkook imagine

[simpingforsoftboys]

The Odds of Us All

CH 3 Part 2/5: The Foxes Burrow

You stood beside Kita, facing the starting members of Inarizaki’s team. Your soulmates were pretty surprised to see you here- but that was a given since you may or may not have neglected to inform them that you would be their new manager.

“This is Ushijima Y/n. She was previously Nekoma’s volleyball club manager- I’m sure some of ya’ have heard of them before. They’re Fukurodani’s main rival- aside from Itachiyama.” Kita introduced her formally, before allowing Y/n to say a few things herself.

“I look forward to getting to know you all! Please take care of me.” You said with a bow. Kita nodded in approval at your brief greeting- concise yet polite- just as he liked it. 

“Today’s extra practice for the senior and starting members. So take yer time with gettin settled in. If ya need anythin just ask me or Aran.” A tall male in a #4 jersey strode up to you, a welcoming smile on his lips as he stretched out a hand for a handshake.

“Nice to meet ya Ushijima! Welcome to the team!” You accepted his hand and shook it firmly.

“Glad to be here Aran-senpai- but please just call me ‘Y/n.’ Ushijima is my cousin-”

“Course- ain’t gonna lie- made me double take the first time I heard it.” They shared a quick chuckle. “Why don’t ya go talk to the other’s? We’ll be right here after.” Aran stepped away to speak to Kita, luckily you didn’t need to go seek out anyone else to speak to- since someone walked up to you.

*Apologies in advance ya’ll, I’m only an anime watcher so I DO NOT have a grasp on Akagi, Omimi, or Ginjima’s characters AT ALL... so please- if you guys have tips please comment. Also I have no idea if Akagi or Ginjima was raised in Hyogo so I’m going to give them a normal Tokyo dialect for now- but Ginjima will have hints of Hyogo dialect- this is subject to change if I get advice. 

“Hi! I’m Akagi Michinari, you’re new right? How’s Inarizaki so far?” Akagi was fairly cheerful- almost like a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. Sure, Kita and Aran were plenty nice but they were more like a parental/older brother sort than friendly.

“Mhm, I just got here two days ago! Everyone here is so friendly- I love it.”

“Hey... this is just between me and you but,” Akagi leans forward, hand covering the side of his face like he’s telling a secret, curious, you lean forward to hear better. “It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone without the Hyogo dialect. Sometimes I still have trouble understanding what people are saying so I smile and nod.” You two look at each other for a good moment before bursting into actual giggles. 

“Me too actually, I was so lost in Japanese literature- so I just pretended to know what was going on when Kenji-sensei was lecturing.” You whisper back- sending the third year into a fit of laughter. The two of you were oblivious to the jealous stares from the nightmare trio, and the curious looks from the others. 

“Haha- I think we’ll be fast friends Y/n!” The libero says, turning to look at the last two people. “Hey Ren, Hitoshi- come say hi!” A super tall, scary dude with a blank expression walks over, along with a stereotypical alt obsessed looking guy. “The super tall one is Omimi Ren- and the grumpy one is Ginjima Hitoshi!” Omimi doesn’t say anything- instead opting to nod in greeting.

“Hey.” Is all Ginjima says, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

“Call me Y/n! I was meaning to ask earlier but are there any allergies or food preferences you might have? I was going to bring homemade energy bars but realized someone might be allergic.” 

“Uh, nah I don’t have any allergies.” Ginjima looks pleasantly surprised, though it’s barely noticeable on his face, “I don’t think anyone here has allergies so ya don’t need to worry.” He turns to look at his seniors for confirmation.

“No one has any.” Omimi agrees.

“Great! Thank you... how about food preferences? Any dietary restrictions for you three specifically?” You’re slipping back into your old managerial habits, pulling out a notepad and scribbling down notes. You may not be of any help on the court directly, but you pride yourself on being analytical and taking care of your team. An example of this was how you’d watch Nekoma’s next rival team beforehand, chatting up their players by starting off with simple conversation- and estimating what makes them tick based off their answers. 

“So professional- Shinsuke picked a good one.” Akagi praised, before giving his own preferences (along with Omimi’s), Ginjima spoke after him. Something told you this years team was going to quickly be added to your list of friends.

“What’cha talkin bout over here?” Atsumu slinked over to stand at your side, inserting himself into the conversation. The two third years were unperturbed at his interruption, meanwhile Ginjima looked a little irritated. 

“Just dietary restrictions.” You replied showing him your notebook. “Speaking of which I have to speak to you, Osamu, and Suna about yours. Excuse us-” After politely excusing yourself and Atsumu, you walked over to join the other two.

“Enjoyin yerself?” Osamu questioned in greeting, taking a bite of his senbei cracker. “Never seen Akagi so chatty with someone he just met.” 

“That’s because they were gossiping.” Suna snickered, shooting you a knowing glance. “It was something about the dialect right? He said the same thing to me when we first met.” He laughed at the scandalized/busted expression you wore.

“What d’ya mean?” The vegetable oil color haired twin questioned, tilting his head to the side- Osamu said nothing, content to munch on his cracker. 

“Thank you so much for exposing me.” You ‘thanked’ Suna with a saccharine sweet tone, before answering your faux blonde soulmate. “It’s Tokyo dialect things. That’s it.”

“Oh ok.” He seemed satisfied with your answer, not seeing any reason to doubt you- much to his twin’s, and Suna’s amusement.

“Alright everyone, practice now!” Coach Kurosu called, the gym doors slamming open as he strode in alongside Coach Oomi. “Ushijima- er I’ll just say Y/n yeah? Come over and I’ll give you a rundown on how things work around here.” While the boys began running their warmup laps around the gyms interior, you made your way over to the coaches. “So... says here you were manager of old Nekomata’s team huh? Interestin’ well, it’s the same as any managerial position. Keep the bottles filled, maintain our players morale when you can, and launder the towels and practice jerseys... sound good?” You nodded, already used to the burden of managing a boys volleyball team. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Oh and here,” he hands you a hefty, sealed envelope. “Your budget for the next two weeks. Anything you don’t spend will be subtracted from the next allowance.” Your eyes widen at the weight of it, but you nod along nonetheless. Money is a friend of yours- the Ushijima’s being a very well off family. “Well the bottles are in the locker room hallway.”

“Right, of course.” Then you left, going to begin the familiar tasks that had somehow become an important part of your daily high school life.

Oomi looked at Kurosu. “Why’d you give her cash? We’re supposed to give her the card?” Kurosu is silent, watching his players with a scrutinizing look. 

“She reminds me of a boerboel.” 

“I don’t follow?”

“I have a feelin that we can trust her.” 

Facts/Trivia

This takes place the very next day after CH3 pt1, ignore the 4d mark on that one cut off tweet please

Tendo has this uncanny ability to tell when someone is trash talking either Ushijima 

Sakusa still doesn’t know that Y/n is Inarizaki’s new manager

None of her soulmates follow her private twitter- or know of it’s existence

Y/n is very efficient at doing laundry/filling water bottles within a small time frame- she has Nekoma vbc to thank for that

Nekoma didn’t have a allowance for their team- so Y/n just paid for everything out of pocket

Yes their budget for TWO WEEKS is about $270 

The only things she can bake well is granola/energy bars, scones, and cookies. Anything else she attempts turns out horribly

A boerboel is a extremely dependable dog breed 

Sometimes when the teachers speak too quickly, Y/n can’t tell what they’re saying so she just stares at them, acting like an attentive student so that they’ll be less tempted to call on her during class

I have no idea how to write for Omimi, Ginjima, Akagi, and both coaches so I’ll just do whatever

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[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #26

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Opera-phile

I had a hobby that I couldn’t tell anyone about. People like me were no rare breed.

Amongst the hobbies I had heard about from my friends until now, the one that made me think “this might be a bit hard to tell someone” the most was that keeping ice cream lids when they finished eating it. They said they would write down the date on each lid and store them in one of those clear files sold at 100-yen shops. They could only eat ice cream on special days when they were little, and they still couldn’t get over the habit of that time. The face of the person who had told me about this seemed simply satisfied in some way. Regardless, this may not have been something so difficult to say because it was revealed at a drinking party.

Now. Bringing the topic back to me.

If you were living alone in a foreign land called Sri Lanka, you could do whatever you wanted. I could get up at any time, eat whatever I felt like, study the things I enjoyed and go wherever I wanted with my Three-Wheeler. I didn’t have much, but the prices were cheap. My culinary repertoire was also noticeably increasing. Even if I danced alone in my room, no one would be watching. No, my dear dog ​​Jirou would stare at me with a bit of a strange look, but there were times when he’d eventually jump up and down and start dancing with me. Even if I listened to music at a loud volume, the same went for my neighbors.

Therefore, I was now thinking that maybe my stopper had come off a little.

I had bought the CD in Colombo, the real capital of Sri Lanka. As one would expect of the biggest shop in the country, they sold a lot of things that were unlikely to be available in Kandy.

The jacket featured a black-haired woman with a spellbound face, both of her arms outstretched. It was an opera CD with twelve songs.

I went back and forth in my room, shouting, “ah~, ah~”. What an opera was? No, I did know. It was traditional singing style – something like a musical, in which singers such as tenor, paritone, soprano and alto would perform along with a play. But something about them that diverged a bit from musicals was that the words used were old, the melodies weren’t excitable, and they were mainly either Italian or French, I believed.

I had no choice but admit it at this point. I liked opera.

Nakata Seigi had the words “I’m in love with opera” floating about in his head. I was driven by an urge to scream “gyaaah” and make said words disappear, but on the CD jacket, Maria Callas was making a spellbound face as usual, and that made me happy. I had purchased this CD after much hesitation over buying this or buying that. There was no way I wouldn’t be happy about it. Still...

Somewhere in my head, I recognized this as something embarrassing.

My dear boss was always telling me to think rationally at such times. He told me that whenever I thought my mind was moving in absurd ways, it always happened that there was some sort of timid development in me, which I either hadn’t noticed or, even if I did notice it, I’d ignore it – but once I understood it, it would stop being absurd.

Why would opera be embarrassing in the first place?

How I had come to like opera? The trigger was the radio. When I was staying at a hotel for a while back in Tokyo, I tended to feel down because I had nothing to do other than study, so I’d sometimes listen to the radio broadcast at the hotel while devoting myself to physics and English.

The singing voice I heard at that time was – how should I put it? – tremendously wonderful.

I couldn’t think that it was the voice of someone from the same world as myself. Someone was singing in a place just a few ways away, and as I listened to it, my body felt like my body was airily floating up – it was that kind of voice. I didn’t have any preferences for either male or female, and if anything, I liked both. The title of the song being streamed was written in the hotel’s guidebook, so I went to a video streaming site and searched for the same song by other singers and the songs that came before and after said piece. Faust. Madama Butterfly. Otello. Rigoletto. The Magic Flute. Don Giovanni. Whenever an opera song was used on a TV show, i became able to at least tell which prelude it was from.

And this passion hadn’t cooled down even now that some time had passed since then.

I walked around the room again, shouting, “Uuuh, uuuh”. Jirou energetically followed me from behind. It was almost as if he meant to say, “It’s fun to go a stroll even inside a room, huh, owner?”. Sorry but it’s not like I’m taking you on a walk, I thought, yet Jirou couldn’t care less, letting out a sweet voice as I held him up and rocked him, and then running off to the yard as if he had gotten excited. Just as I felt relieved, thinking about what a cute fella he was, I found myself imagining something. I could see myself at the drinking party, talking about how I liked opera. The reaction I pictured was an explosion of laughter.

“‘Opera’, you say. What’s up with that? It’s that thing where fat people raise their voices like crazy, right? You like that? Why? No way, Nakata, didn’t you just want to have a rich people hobby just ‘cause you’ve well-off these days? Like, those that feel like you’re superior. That’s exactly what opera is. Okay, I get it, but that ain’t very interesting, so how about we change the topic?”

It gave me chills.

I wasn’t creeped out by how people might talk about my hobbies. However, it was painful to have the whole genre of opera, which had saved me back when I was put in a spot like a light reaching out from the sky, be judged by people who didn’t even know the difference between Callas and Pavarotti and not be able to defend them. I had to protect what was important to me. Or else, it would get damaged. I wasn’t referring to the long-standing form of art that had been cultivated for hundreds of years. I meant my own heart. That was painful to me.

Yeah, I was somewhat aware that this wasn’t an “embarrassment”. But I was scared.

I was low-key terrified of having people pointing their fingers at me from behind with words such as “eccentric”, “weirdo” or “pretentious” for having a preference that was different from other people’s – and something that I seriously liked, no less.

With a deep breath, I took the CD’s vinyl cover. Unlike Japanese CDs, there was none of those convenient little ears that made the cover come off when you pulled it. I slowly cut it with a pair of scissors, set it on a nostalgic stereo radio and played it while referring to the table of track numbers on the backside.

Just from the intro, I already knew who was singing and what song it was.

Maria Callas’s “Casta Diva”. It was a song from an opera called “Norma”, and the meaning of it was “chaste goddess”.

What it made me reminisce to was a seriously horrible time, when I had to prepare for my death to a certain extent. Whenever this song played in the hotel’s radio program, which repeated itself over and over, this song would connect me with paradise, telling me that I didn’t need to worry about trivial matters, so I was able to leave it all aside and relax. It was that kind of song. Without a doubt, my biggest and best saver was that beautiful jeweler, but from the sidelines, opera had definitely helped me keep my sanity.

That was amazing.

I was grateful from the bottom of my heart that this form of art, which couldn’t be classified as mainstream at all in Japan and probably overseas as well, had maintained its thread of life across the centuries. It had saved me. Would the CD sales be of any help to it? Thankfully, I had some money to spend and was probably able to buy a set of all-track CDs per month. Would that be a form of repayment of any kind? It would be great if so, I thought wholeheartedly.

“Casta Diva” wasn’t too long a piece. With a voice that sounded like it was vanishing, the song ended. For whatever reason, it made me feel like crying, no matter how many times I had listened to it. It was too beautiful. It was an impossible speculation, but if Richard turned into a song, I felt that his form would change into something very close to this one.

Once I finished listening to the track, the “aaah”s and “uuuh”s had disappeared from my head. I liked opera. Opera turned into my strength. So I wanted to cherish it.

Even if someone ridiculed me for it, the problem was with the person, not with me or with opera. And my precious, beautiful shopkeeper had stated that “no discriminating other people based on their preferences” was one of the main principles of Etranger. What was I going to do by discriminating myself?

I was going to keep buying opera CDs from now on too, I swore proudly to my heart, yet secretly decided not to write about it in my blog or talk to Richard about it. Not because it was embarrassing. But rather because I had the gut feeling that I couldn’t predict what would happen in the end if I told him.

On that day, I was busy with preparations for cooking. First Saul-san, and then Richard would come to Kandy to hear the reports about the progress of my studies. It was also like a test. But I hadn’t studied half-assedly enough to chicken out at that. Above all, thanks to the negotiations in Ratnapura, I was conscious that my eyes were well-trained, if I could say so myself.

If it didn’t go well even with this, that was fine. I was happy to find new challenges. Lots of things became easier once I started feeling that studying was fun.

And since they were coming over, they wouldn’t get angry if I prepared a bit of a feast. More than anything, being able to cook a few people’s share in this house had me overjoyed. After all, I was basically living alone, so just how many times had I found delicious-looking and cheap food but had to tearfully give up because I wasn’t sure if I could eat it all by myself?

Being surrounded by things that made you happy was extremely good for the heart.

Deciding to go for an additional blow, I set the CD in the radio. A long aria began at the end of the first opus of all songs. It was a French opera called “La Fille du Régiment”, and being fond of this one had greatly helped me when I was studying French.

The man who started to sing that he was going to marry the army was a world-renowned tenor.

In the beginning, the man sang that he was going to do meritorious deeds in the army, cheered on by his companions. Since I had been listening to the words ever since back when I could only hear them as katakana spelling, my mouth moved without any reference. Of course, my voice didn’t sound like that of a tenor, but it had the same gist as somehow trying to sing in the range of a singer from some music show. Just that was fun enough.

A fish pie was baking in the oven. There were three types of curry in the smaller pots. My Nakata-style sliced veggies pickled in soy sauce, which were a mixture of chopped coconut sambal and dried fruits, were lined up on a cutting board, and the fresh fruits that I planned to make into mixed juice were all completely ready. The only thing I had left to do was preparing watalappan for dessert. It had to chill in the fridge for a while, so it was necessary to make it in advance. However, since it was my third time making it, I had the procedure memorized. No worries.

The tenor raised his voice amidst joy. The man who sang, “Ah, I’m going, I’m going to marry the army” didn’t like the army in particular, he was just in love with the abandoned girl that all the men from the regiment he was enlisted in were raising together.

The key switched to waltz. The true value of the tenor would ensue from that point onward.

The oven beeped, indicating that the pie had finished baking. With light steps, put on my gloves, took out the whole iron plate with the pie on it and gently slid it into a white porcelain plate.

A series of splendid high Cs. This referred to when the tenor raised their voice a great deal. If the composer was wonderful in reproducing the feelings of happiness into the music so keenly, then so was the singer who sang them so faithfully, I believed. The feeling of excitement turned into the melody just the way it was.

I arranged the dishes on the table and peeled the fruits. The high Cs continued one after another. I opened a can of coconut milk and mixed the contents with nut paste. The song was approaching the end. “What a fate, what a fate,” he sang, sounding merry. The highest note was near.

The song was coming to a close while celebrating happiness with the highest note. The feelings of the singer weren’t recorded in the CD, but I could hear them as comfortably as could be.

It wasn’t nearly high enough, but I sang along at a fairly loud volume.

At the same time as the song finished with a flashy grace note, I lightly kicked the open lid of the oven. It closed up neatly. With this, everything was all set. I was going to put away the CD set before the guests arrived.

Or so I had planned.

After the peak of my excitement, I noticed that someone was standing outside the window. He hadn’t come in from the front door. Hence the chime didn’t ring.

“Bravo, bravissimo.” A beautiful man wearing a white shirt and sunglasses, said glasses charmingly pushed up above his forehead, was smiling while applauding at my stiffened self.

The test was terrible that day. I didn’t think there was any issue with the contents of my answers. However, since I was stuttering so much, Saul, my mentor who was so picky about manner of speech as well as the contents of it, pointed out that I should “act more dignified”. I knew that better than anyone. There was too much noise interference in my head with things such as, “Why did I put opera on in such high spirits? What did he think of me now? As I thought, does he think that this hobby doesn’t suit me? No, that’s definitely impossible when it comes to my teacher, so I have to take control of my self-consciousness”.

And so, this is a story that happened more than half a year after that. Something that took place in Sri Lanka in May.

“Eh?”

“Happy birthday, Seigi. Here is a little present.”

“A bank deposit transfer certificate?”

“Good job reading it. That is from the USA.”

“USA...”

“There was a seat that you would probably like, so I purchased a year’s worth of it.”

“A year”? This wasn’t potato chips or cup noodles. What kind of seat was that? Was there a truck coming to deliver it? While thinking about such things, I continued reading the A4 paper, and when I got to half of it, I roared loudly. I let out a voice that sounded like a crushed frog, I believed.

The seat that Richard had given me was indeed a seat. But at a music theatre in America, which was likely the world’s most famous. It was a one-year membership card.

This was proof that “a seat will be reserved for you”. A seat just for me, for any performance, that I could use whenever I went there.

I felt lightheaded. Just how much had this “seat” cost him? What was he trying to do by giving something like this to someone who sat in swivel chairs sold at mass retailers? I did have such rational retorts in my head, but above that, I was so, so happy that I started jumping up and down. I could go to a theatre that I only knew about from CDs. Anytime, as long as I had the plane tickets. No matter who was singing.

“Can I really have this?!”

“Do you think I’m some sort of boorish lad who’d take back the treasure after making the other person happy?”

“No way! Uoooh, I’m too excited; that’s bad!”

“You are reacting like a dog again...”

“I’m gonna run in the yard for a bit!”

As I, with a messy katakana pronunciation, sang to myself the chorus part of the aria that had just finished while rolling around in the yard, Jirou ran over and mounted on me without restraint. “Owner, we’re going to play here, right? We’re going to play here, right? Come, let’s play,” he seemed to say, energetically wagging his tail. I was so happy that I hugged him and rolled about, but then I could see Richard laughing. The yard was on a slightly lower level than the house, so the house was wholly visible, so I didn’t think I was mistaken. He really was making a happy-looking face. This might have been my first time seeing that man laugh with such a child-like expression.

At that moment, something suddenly came to mind.

When Richard told me for the first time that he “likes pudding”, did he also think for a bit that it was embarrassing or wonder about what I was going to say? This man had thorough knowledge about the so-called “society”. There was no way that he hadn’t considered the possibility.

But he had told me about it.

Did I not say anything weird to him back then? “A man, liking pudding?” or “Why would a foreigner like a Japanese dessert?” It gave me the creeps. Back then, I didn’t have as much care as now regarding how to handle such circumstances. I just had words jumping out of my mouth like knives. This still applies even now, but I wanted to think it had gotten better, even if just a little.

Had I not said anything to him? Had I not hurt him? I didn’t have any way to confirm that now. If I apologized without knowing what I had said, it wouldn’t be a sincere apology.

But right now, Richard was looking at my happy self and smiling.

So I decided to stop thinking about these things. And from now on too, I would keep making heaps upon heaps of the things he liked.

I had to protect what was important to me by myself. But if I happened to notice something that mattered to someone who was dear to me, I wanted to cherish it too. I had no other choice.

After stroking Jirou, I went back to where Richard was and bowed to him again. He reciprocated the bow with a “you are welcome” and seemed about to start laughing again.

“That’s right, I was gonna make pudding. Wait just a bit more.”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“You already got me a seat at the MET; I can’t go along with that flattery even as a joke. I’d be happy if you played with Jirou, though.”

“Then, I will take you up on those words.”

Rubbing my chest in relief, I went back to my room, patting my whole body to remove the dirt and dog hairs, and after washing my hands with soap, I returned to the kitchen.

By the looks of it, I was going to be able to listen to an opera in person one of these days – at least within a year’s time. Once I watched it live, all the curtains would close, right? For real? Was such a thing possible? Apparently yes. Hard to believe but it was true.

That man who was like an incarnation of the worldwide definition of “beauty”, and above that, who was a genius at pleasing me, was fooling around with my hybrid brown dog in the yard, illuminated by tropical sunshine. It seemed that the preparations for our feast would still take a while.

“What a wonderful day,” I hummed tentatively in French. A gorgeous tenor voice wouldn’t come out of my throat, but the things I liked would firmly support my heart nevertheless. Almost like a backbone for it. And there was someone supporting this backbone. Honestly, what a wonderful day. For now, I’d be making pudding. And share at least a little bit of this feeling.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #housekishou richard #jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #nakata seigi #richard ranashinghe de vulpian #richard ranashinha de vulpian #jr short story collection #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #novel #my translation #richard

[marcspectrr]

A word or two on Kiara's mental health...

Before I attempt to summarize the 39 page slideshow living rent free in my brain, a preface! This will include spoilers for s2, as well as a few mentions of suicidal thoughts! Also. I love Kiara Carrera with all of my heart so if you're not a fan of her, you might wanna keep scrolling. If you don't vibe with her that's perfectly fine, but this post is heavy with Kiara appreciation, be warned, my respect for her runs deep. The choice is yours, of course, just understand that I'm writing this bc @yellowlaboratory among others have encouraged me to get it out there because it's all I've been thinking about since I watched s2. This is not to start anything.

(This is also not me hating on Pope because I genuinely like his character, he's just made some very questionable choices throughout the show, some I can forgive and some that still don't sit right with me.)

Deep breath, here we go.

It's no secret Kiara has been poorly handled by the writers and therefore the characters at times. We got little development in s1 compared to other main male characters, leaving us to fill in the gaps as far as her ambitions, motivations, family, overall interest in the boys, etc. While I do keep this in mind, I could rant about it for days so for this I'm going off of what we have as well as what's been implied.

Kiara didn't have the same upbringing as the boys but it's clear the Carrera's had/have their struggles. She's got her foot in both worlds, not quite 'rich' but not entirely 'poor', inevitably giving her a fragile sense of belonging and identity. 16 is a hard age even without societal pressures and growing up in a classist environment, but here is where we're assuming the boys come in. They give her a place to feel comfortable in her own skin, with shared interests and accepting her for who she is, which we know the kooks don't provide. Just being around them helps ease those deep insecurities, helps her form meaningful bonds. We weren't given an explicit scene where this was shown but over the course of the two seasons it's clear how she feels about them and what they do for her mentally.

Her relationship with the pogues, however, puts a rift between her and her parents. Mike and Anna clearly want what's best for Kie but it's also obvious they've struggled with her even before the pogues. Anna wants Kiara to have the things she never got growing up, breeding a disconnect since Kiara doesn't share in her mother's interests. This leads into my biggest problem with Kiara's arc in s2, which was how Anna and Mike were written. 

Yes, Kiara didn't/doesn't treat them the best but it went both ways -- they all failed at communicating. Instead of finding a common ground and compensating for the things Kiara cares about, Anna shuts her down and ignores her, leaving her to feel like a problem rather than a person, further perpetuating even less healthy communication. Kiara even says in s2 that's why she doesn't like going home, because it always means walking into an argument and not feeling accepted.

I sorta expected a little more understanding from Anna considering her own background with pogues but instead it backfired. And Mike...he didn't contribute much at all. They could've all done better and need some work. Kiara could be more grateful and Anna and Mike are the parents, the adults, they need to make the space feel safe to talk. Kie didn't just wake up one day and decide to act out and keep her parents in the dark all the time, that stems from not feeling listened to when she does try and open up.

Expanding on this with...the whole Blue Ridge plot. Moment of silence for the show neglecting to acknowledge the academy,  even though it clearly had a big impact on Kiara's life. In s1 we got a brief look into how her 'kook year' affected her and it was not good. More isolation, blurred identity, insecurity and this time suicidal thoughts, with no one to turn to for support, assuming she was not on good terms with her parents then either. I'm assuming this because for them to send her to the academy, hoping to give her better opportunities only for it to end with her wanting to cut her wrists, to then thinking the best option is to send her away again? At this point I hope they didn’t know how badly the academy affected her because sending her away a second time with that knowledge is such a hurtful and oblivious move.

Kiara already thinks her parents see her as a burden, hurting her sense of worth as is. I really wanted to like the Carrera's and I still feel like they genuinely love and care for Kie, I just need to see more communication maybe. And if they choose to include the Blue Ridge plot, which I'm leaning towards yes on that one, I hope it's handled somewhat well, preferably not a tool to create drama even though I know a lot of people want to see it be used that way. I'm very particular, I'm sorry I'm this way.

Things I've seen her being criticized for in s2 is her behavior. The thing that people have to remember is that she's 16 and teenagers are just not the best with navigating their emotions. She made questionable choices (the 'murderer' thing and 'abusing' Pope) but these are both things that fit the plot and her character. She was by no means the only one grieving so I don't know why she's being targeted for it (although I'm not surprised, the fandom treats her horribly). Some of her core characteristics are her high moral integrity as well as her headstrong belief in people and causes. She's never been one to make herself palatable for people and s2 shows a lot of this (calling out the Cameron's, going off in front of the court, etc). Even if it caused them problems and even if they are flaws, that doesn't make her an inherently intolerable character, it makes her realistic. She was not in a good place emotionally and it would've been wrong to shy away from depicting it any other way, especially in a show where the teenage experience is decently represented.

Now with the Pope thing. I think it was handled as well as it could've been considering the circumstances. It really should've never happened but to justify it, emotions are messy, relationships even messier and they were both spiraling at the end of s1. I don't agree with the way it started (why give Kie the line of literally telling him she wanted something different only to show them together next episode, I'm forever confused) but I'm not mad about how it ended. They were both in the wrong at times so only bringing up Kie's faults is just unfair.

I believe they both tried their best and even wanted to feel the right things but learned quickly that's not exactly how it works, which was how it was supposed to be shown. Not as this romanticized, idealistic healthy relationship but as one that has its bumps and was bred out of all the wrong things. All of their body language pointed towards this. Pope didn't deserve to be hurt but Kie clearly didn't intend for things to turn out how they did. She wasn't mentally comfortable enough for a relationship and I can appreciate them showing this in the ways the writers framed it. Even the conversation with Kie describing their night on the beach, I think it was perfect. It was awkward but it was honest, which is so important.

Overall, I think Kiara's gone through a lot mentally that the show could be better at exploring. It doesn't have to be big, obvious lingering shots, they can be subtle and still mean so much to people who relate to her. Seeing someone on screen grapple with real life struggles (even if the show walks a painfully fine line as far as realism), it means a lot. Especially when mental health (more prominent than ever) is so rarely portrayed to translate in any significant way in media now. It's definitely something I would love to see get more time and effort so until then, just know I'll be manifesting the screen time Kiara Carrera deserves.

#obx #outer banks #obx s2 #outer banks season 2 #kiara carrera #whoever read this whole thing kudos to you #i also hate the tumblr app for posting it twice before it was finished :) #i have MANY thoughts on kie #as well as the rest of the pogues arcs in s2 #its a curse to have this many opinions agshdjf #obx rants #i guess?

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your erudite and literary posts about James Bond in your blog very much. Your most recent post about Connery as best cinematic Bond and Dalton as the best literary Bond was brilliant. Although the PC brigade have been inching towards making Bond a woman or even non-white, Ian Fleming’s legacy of a suave but cold hearted English gentleman spy hasn’t been completely trashed. As someone familiar with Fleming literary lore can you also tell me where was James Bond educated? Was it Oxford or Cambridge? I was having a discussion over Zoom with friends and the Oxonians like myself thought it was Oxford because in Casino Royale with Daniel Craig it’s made very plain it was Oxford. Your thoughts?

I appreciate your kind words about my posts on James Bond and his creator Ian Fleming. It’s very hard to ignore the cinematic James Bond because he is very much an icon of our modern culture that needs no translation to transcend across cultures. Alongside Sherlock Holmes, another British literary and cinematic export, the name alone speak for itself.

James Bond appeals to both genders very well.

For the men, Bond dresses well and lives in a care free way. He is both ferociously intelligent and resourceful to get out of any tight corner. He drives incredible cars (from the incredibly stylish Aston Martin DB5 to the incredibly awful AMC Hornet) and uses awesome technology (he is the archetypal boy with toys). He's not afraid to get down in the dirt to fight or engage in lethal gun-play and spectacular car chases. He sleeps with beautiful women, regardless how strong and independent they are (or even lesbian if we’re being honest about Pussy Galore).

For us ladies, while he's not averse to action, he's also a cultured gentleman with suave and sophisticated manners. He's also a generally pretty good looking guy. In many ways, he's a conventional male ideal. So while his conventional good looks and manners aren't for everyone, they hit right the sweet spot of what women like. For everyone, he's a spy! Not at a grey real world nondescript spy, but a cool spy fighting larger than life bad guys whose bland sartorial choices scream mad super villain. It's a very black and white world that James Bond lives in. These bad guys truly are villainous in the desire to re-order humanity, and we need a debonair British MI6 agent to save us from these mad men who want to harm us by laying waste to a bonkers Armageddon.

When all is said and done I think that what makes James Bond so iconic across gender and generations is what Raymond Chandler wrote back in 1959, “every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.

That sounds about right. Men want to be him, women want to be with him.

I know my first introduction to James Bond was through my grandfather on my  Anglo-Scots father’s side who was a dashing gentleman in his day with a long rumoured hush hush work for Her Majesty’s government firmly shoved under the carpet to avoid further discussion that he - being self-effacing and humble - would find embarrassing that would paint him in any heroic light. Years later he had bought his Bahamas beach pile in Harbour Island out in the Caribbean for the family to rest up from cold winters in Britain. Amongst his immense stack of books dotted around the place were (and still are) first editions of Flemings novels which a few were signed by the author as he on occasion met Ian Fleming when he would sail over to Jamaica (they were also OEs which helped). We were not allowed to touch these but instead picked up the dog earred paperbacks that still retained their 60s musty smell.

On my teen sojourns there I would spend time along with my siblings just reading anything we could find to take to the beach or lounge around in a hammock or a chaise longue. That’s how I came to read the Fleming books - really out of necessity to avoid boredom on a beach (which isn’t really my thing as I prefer the rugged outdoors). But I was pleasantly surprised how well written the books were and I actually enjoyed the stories; it was a refreshing change from the more heavy literary tomes I was trying hard to wade through. As for the Bond films, I watched them on film nights at boarding school; I remember having a school girl crush on Connery, Dalton, and Brosnan.

There are many reasons for the successful longevity of James Bond in popular culture and literature but perhaps one of the most pertinent to our discussion is that James Bond is actually a blank slate and therefore malleable as a character and so he can capture the current zeitgeist in time.

This ability of the film to adapt to different generations while remaining relevant is an important factor for its longevity. For example, the early James Bond films were unashamedly sexist with characters using women as objects and discarding them. In the most recent James Bond films, certainly starting with Timothy Dalton, there is a subtle change in attitude with a few chauvinist attitudes.

James Bond today is more serious, seduces fewer women, and is more respectful towards women in his life, including his boss. This shows how the film changes concerning the rise of feminism in the West. For example, Miss Moneypenny used to be a minor character in the very first James Bond films. Today, she is more formidable and doesn’t tolerate sexist remarks.

Perhaps it is precisely because of this blank slate malleability that has allowed different actors that have been cast to play James Bond their own way - rather than get a straight like for like Scottish sounding actor to replacing Connery for example the film producers went across to Moore via Lazenby for example  - and letting each actor imbue the super spy with different moods. They each added their own colour from the same broad palate to create different tones. However, each of these characters maintained the essential character that defines James Bond. The actors have broadly stayed true to the inherent mix of character and class associated with James Bond.

For this reason I have some empathy towards your concern that Bond would be held hostage to the current zeitgeist of white washing or genderising everything so as to avoid being a victim of cancel culture. But it’s only empathy because I feel there is a danger of misunderstanding just who James Bond is and what he represents.

What do I mean by this?

I mentioned James Bond is a malleable character to the point he’s presented as a blank slate. This is ‘literally’ true - certainly as far as the books go. Ian Fleming doesn’t tell us much about Bond other than his appearance in his books. Indeed - as I mentioned in my past blog post on Connery as the best Bond - Fleming wasn’t convinced by Connery as Bond. He was reported to have said, ‘I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stuntman’ and even dismissed Connery as “that fucking truck driver”. Fleming has good reason to rage. His Bond as written in the books was someone like him.

Like Fleming, Bond was an Eton educated Englishman; an officer and a (rogue) gentleman who was a lieutenant-commander in Naval Intelligence. As Connery began to wow and win over Fleming as Bond, Fleming had a change of heart. Fleming in his later Bond books re-wrote a half-Scottish ancestry for Bond as a tribute to Connery’s portrayal. Bond’s Scottish father was a Royal Navy captain and later an arms dealer, Andrew Bond from Glencoe; and his mother, Monique Delacroix, was Swiss from an industrial family. Bond himself was born in Zurich. Bond isn’t English at all but half-Scots and half-Swiss according to literary canon.

So I mention this because the question who can play James Bond is not as straight forward as it might seem.

But clearly we now have a canon of work, both cinematically and in the literature, where we have base line of who Bond is - or what audiences could possibly suspend their disbelief and go with what is presented to them as James Bond.

I do vaguely remember the hullabaloo and hand wringing around Daniel Craig playing Bond because he didn’t conform to the traditional tall, dark, and handsome trope of James Bond super suave spy. People couldn’t get past his blond hair. Some still can’t. But in my humble opinion he has been an outstanding James Bond and has reimagined Bond in a fresh and exciting way. Craig is in fact mining the Fleming books for his characterisation of Bond as a suave, gritty, humourless killer of the books. Dalton got there before him but that’s a moot point. To our current generation Craig has modernised Bond and dusted 007 down from being a relic of the Cold War to being a relevant 21st Century super spy.

Can anyone play James Bond OO7? Yes and no. It’s arguing that two different things are one and the same. They are not. James Bond is separate from OO7.  

Can a woman play Jane Bond or a black woman or non-white man play Black Bond? Respectfully, no. That’s not who James Bond is.

James Bond is a flesh and blood character with a specific genealogical history - whether in the books or on the screen. This Bond has literary back story that is canon and makes him who he is. Bond does transcend time - he can’t be 38 years old for over 75 years in the real world - but at the same time his character only makes sense when rooted in a specific historic context we know existed (and still exists) and not some wishy washy make believe fantasy of British society. He’s an Old Etonian and therefore an upper middle class male product of the British establishment that is identifiable in a very British cultural context.

Jane Bond would have to have gone to Cheltenham Ladies College, Benneden, or Roedean I suppose if we are talking about equivalence - but such girls’ boarding schools were not the breeding ground for future spies (more likely they married them or became trusted secretaries in the intelligence services as well as flower arranging in their Anglican parish church).

I believe they are letting in black pupils on bursaries at Eton these days to be more inclusive but again it’s an an exception not the rule and Eton doesn’t even get public credit for the inclusive work they try to do because it’s not well known.

Moreover we know Bond loses his Scottish-Swiss parents in a skiing accident. I don’t mean to sound racist but I ski a lot in Switzerland and I can say you don’t really find droves of non-white skiers on the slopes of Verbier or Zermatt. Of course there are a few but it’s the exception and not the norm. Again, I’m not trying to be racist but just point out some obvious things when it pertains to the credibility of character that underlines who Bond is. You pull one thread out of the literary biography and the danger is the rest of the tapestry will unravel.

Of course one could try and go for a Black Bond on screen and then hope there is a huge suspension of belief on the part of the audience. But I suspect it’s a bridge too far. It just doesn’t fit. Audiences around the world have an image of who Bond is - British at the very least but also male (damaged and flawed in many ways) and coming from a specific British social class background that serves as an entree to a closed world of English gentleman clubs, Savile Row, English sports cars, and the hushed corridors of Whitehall.

Any woke film maker with an ounce of creative vision and talent and one who is invested in this would be better off creating a new character entirely - with their own specific biography that is both believable and relatable. Can you imagine an American James Bond? What a ghastly thought. Or worse a Canadian one? Canadians are far too nice and far too apologetic to produce a cruel cold eyed killer. But look what clever film makers like Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones and even later Doug Liman did with Jason Bourne - both fantastic creations that are part of the cultural zeitgeist now.

Or look at Charlize Theron who plays a MI6/CIA/KGB triple agent in Atomic Blonde or Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa Faust in any of the Mission Impossible movies. I would eagerly watch any movies with these two badass women on the screen. All this talk about making Bond a woman or even coloured is just lazy thinking at best and at worst kow towing to the populist tides of PC brigade.

But I firmly believe one can have a female and a person of colour portraying 007. This is because James Bond and OO7 are two different things entirely. Many mistakenly believe 007 is Bond’s own code name and specific alias to him alone.  

007 is a license to kill for a very specialised kind of intelligence officer. Bond has that privilege for as long as he serves at the service of Her Majesty’s pleasure. His 007 license can be revoked - and it has been in the past Bond films - and he’s back to being a just another desk jockey civil servant in Whitehall. So my point is OO7 is not sacred to Bond’s identity. Bond could continue to be Bond even if M took away his 007 license to kill.

The origins of the Double O title may date to Fleming's wartime service in Naval Intelligence. According to World War Two historian Damien Lewis in his book Churchill's Secret Warriors, agents of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) were given a “0” prefix when they became "zero-rated" upon completion of training in how to kill. As part of his role as assistant to the head of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral John Godfrey (himself the inspiration for M), Fleming acted as liaison to the SOE.

In the novel Moonraker it’s established that the section routinely has three agents concurrently; the film series, beginning with Thunderball, establishes the number of OO agents at a minimum of 9. Fleming himself only mentions five OO agents in all. According to Moonraker, James Bond is the most senior of three OO agents; the two others were OO8 and OO11. The three men share an office and a secretary named Loelia Ponsonby. Later novels feature two more OO agents; OO9 is mentioned in Thunderball and OO6 is mentioned in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Other authors have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents. While they presumably have been sent on dangerous missions as Bond has, little has been revealed about most of them. Several have been named, both by Fleming and other authors, along with passing references to their service records, which suggest that agents are largely recruited (as Bond was) from the British military's special forces.

Interestingly, In the novel You Only Live Twice, Bond was transferred into another branch and given the number 7777, suggesting there was no active agent 007 in that time; he is later reinstated as 007 in the novel The Man with the Golden Gun. As an aside, in Fleming's Moonraker, OO agents face mandatory retirement at 45 years old. However Sebastian Faulks's Devil May Care (an authorised Bond adventure from the Fleming estate and therefore arguably could be considered canon) features M giving Bond a choice of when to retire - which explains why Roger Moore (God bless) went past his sell by date.

In the films the OO section is a discrete area of MI6, whose agents report directly to M, and tend to be sent on special assignments and troubleshooting missions, often involving rogue agents (from Britain or other countries) or situations where an "ordinary" intelligence operation uncovers or reveals terrorist or criminal activity too sensitive to be dealt with using ordinary procedural or legal measures, and where the aforementioned discretionary "licence to kill" is deemed necessary or useful in rectifying the situation.

The World is Not Enough introduces a special insignia for the 00 Section. Bond's fellow OO agents appear receiving briefings in Thunderball and The World Is Not Enough. The latter film shows a woman in one of the 00 chairs. In Thunderball, there are nine chairs for the OO agents; Moneypenny says every 00 agent in Europe has been recalled, not every OO agent in the world. Behind the scenes photos of the film reveal that one of the agents in the chairs is female as well. As with the books, other writers have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents in the films and in other media.

In GoldenEye, 006 is an alias for Alec Trevelyan; as of 2019, Trevelyan is the only OO agent other than Bond to play a major role in an EON Productions film, with all other appearances either being brief or dialogue references only.

In Casino Royale with Daniel Craig’s first outing as Bond, we see in the introduction the tense exchange between Bond and Dryden, a section chief whom Bond has been sent to kill for selling secrets.  

James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets. Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man Bond. If M was so sure I was bent...she'd have sent a Double-O. Benefits of being Section Chief...I would know of anyone being promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills...and it takes - James Bond: - two. (flashback of Bond fighting Dryden's contact in a bathroom.)

The OO is just a coveted position and nothing to do with who occupies it. Ito use a topical comparative example it’s like a football team in which a new star player would be given an ex-player’s shirt number e.g. Messi wears Number 10 for Argentina which is heavily identified with the late great Maradona. So conceivably there would be no problem having a woman or anyone else play 007. I think it would be an interesting creative choice to have a woman or someone else play OO7 and Bond is out of the service and yet he has to work together with this new OO7 - the creative tension would be a refreshing twist on the canon. 

Your question about James Bond’s Oxford or Cambridge education is more easier to answer.

It really depends again which Bond one is talking about. The literary James Bond or the cinematic Bond.

In the Fleming books, James Bond’s didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge or any of the other great universities of Britain. In the books Bond’s education is not gone into much detail. We know he was raised overseas until he was orphaned at the age of 11 when his parents died in a mountaineering accident near Chamonix in the Alps. He is home schooled for a time by an aunt, Charmain Bond, in the English village of Pett Bottom before being packed off to boarding school at Eton around 12 years old. Bond doesn’t stay long as he gets expelled for playing around with a maid. He is then sent to his father’s boarding school in Scotland, Fettes College.

Bond is then briefly attends the University of Geneva - as Ian Fleming did - before being taught to ski in Kitzbühel. In 1941 Bond joins a branch of what was to become the Ministry of Defence and becomes a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, ending the war as a commander. Bond applies to M for a position within the "Secret Service", part of the HM Civil Service, and rises to the rank of principal officer. And that’s it.

In the cinematic Bond universe things get more complicated and even contentious as you alluded to in your question. It’s never made quite clear which of the two - Oxford or Cambridge - Bond attended because it depends on how much weight you attach to the lines being spoken in each of the films where it is raised.

In Tomorrow Never Dies, Bond is up at Oxford (New College to be exact since his Aston Martin DB5 was parked in the courtyard at the entrance). He is seen bedding a sexy Danish professor, Inga Bergstrom, to brush up on his Danish (to which Moneypenny on the phone retorts ‘You always were a cunning linguist’). But it’s definitely doesn’t mean Bond studied there as an undergraduate. 

Casino Royale is the film many think yes, James Bond went to Oxford because it is mentioned by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) as she sizes up Daniel Craig’s Bond on the train. Here is the full quote as said by Vesper Lynd, “All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity - hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.”

The thing to note is that it’s Vesper Lynd taunting Bond and even then she takes a wide stab by saying ‘Oxford or wherever’ because she doesn’t really know and Bond doesn’t oblige her with an answer.

That whole scene struck me as strange because she’s guessing by the cut of the suit it must be Oxford (or Cambridge). Bond is wearing an Italian suit (Brioni to be specific) and not and English Savile Row one that presumably someone of Bond’s taste and background would be sporting.

A more plausible answer if we are going by the cinematic Bond universe is Cambridge. Indeed it is stated explicitly by Bond himself. Can you guess?

You Only Live Twice which is has the distinction of being the only Bond film (as far as I can tell) from being set in just one country - Japan.

You remember the scene. Lieutenant commander James Bond has just had a briefing with M on board a submarine and is naturally flirting with Moneypenny on his way out. Moneypenny playfully tosses him a Japanese phrase book, saying he might need it.

“You forget,” Bond responds with an expression just short of a smirk as he tosses it back to her, “I took a first in oriental languages at Cambridge.”

So it seems James Bond is a Cambridge man.

A first means - as any British university student would know - first class honours. It’s the highest classification grade one can get in their undergraduate degree ie a ‘first’. Although at Cambridge, like Oxford, you can also get a double first in the part I and part II of the Tripos. Both universities also award first-class honours with distinction, informally known as a ‘Starred First’ (Cambridge) or a ‘Congratulatory First’ (Oxford).

Another oddity is he says ‘oriental languages’ when one got a degree in ‘oriental studies’ at the Oriental Faculty at Cambridge. That is until 2007 when Cambridge bowed to public and student pressure and chose to drop its Oriental Faculty label and instead adopted the name the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies. Oxford still hangs on to its name the Faculty of Oriental Studies.

My only reservation about crowing over an Oxonian is how truthful was Bond being with Moneypenny in this scene?

Is this line meant to be taken seriously or ironically? Most people seem to take it seriously, despite much of Connery's dialogue being obviously ironic and playful. Certainly, Bond is shown to have never been to Japan before and is incapable of saying anything in Japanese other than the odd "sayonara" and "arigato." But then again Bond does know the correct temperature sake is meant to be served at. So there’s that.

Or it could be Bond was speaking a half-truth. I know speaking from experience as someone who very nearly read asian languages instead of my eventual choice of Classics that ‘Oriental languages’ at the ex-Oriental faculty in Cambridge can mean many other languages e.g. Sanskrit, Hindi, Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic as well as Korean, Japanese and Chinese. It opens up so many other delicious possibilities for Bond. If he read Arabic then perhaps he’s being deeply ironic with Moneypenny (after all she would have drooled over read his MI6 personnel file).

If you think I’m losing my mind then ponder on the fact it was Roald Dahl who penned the screenplay of You Only Live Twice. Dahl was not above snark. Indeed pretty sure he would have got a starred first in snark at any university.

Of course the most obvious explanation is that it’s plot armour as a way for Bond to just get on with the story by suspending the audience belief. Why wouldn’t Bond know Japanese? He seems to know everything else imaginable.

However if it ever was it’s now become canon as EON - the production company behind the Bond films - have stated officially for the fandom that Bond’s official bio has it that he went to Eton and Cambridge, where he got a first in oriental languages. So that seems settled then.

In hindsight it makes perfect sense that Bond went to Cambridge since historically Cambridge has provided the bulk of the spies not just for Her Majesty’s service but also for the other side, the Russians - the so-called Cambridge Spies of Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross, and a host of other traitors. We seem to be an equal opportunities employment service.

I’m sorry to disappoint you and other Oxonians that despite what you might think James Bond didn’t attend Oxford. Believe me as a Cantabrigian it gives me no pleasure to say this…..too much.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #james bond #bond #film #cinema #ian fleming #oxford #cambridge #oxbridge #university #education #cancel culture #culture #society #britain #british #personal

[ilikedetectives]

Thanks for saying it. As a trans woman I was side-eyeing that hashtag the moment I read the “movement explained” post last year saying this:

That wording (from the most prominent voice!) directly implies that there’s an acceptable criteria for womanhood and women outside those criteria don’t count. This kind of thinking always ends up targeting gnc cis women too because they’re not the “right” women, no surprise it happened here. (Apparently a gay cis man is more worth defending to them than gnc and sapphic women too?)

Plus a quick google search would easily tell them Kassandra and Eivor were envisioned as “masculine” as they are now even before the male options were designed? Official ACV concept art for Eivor’s character design even states lady Eivor was designed first and that male Eivor was based off of HER. But sure they’re “shells” based on men 🙄

Looks like they’ve chosen to “highlight, appreciate and support” the fact that queer, gnc women aren’t real women because these women are simply men’s “shells” for being masculine and queer.

Oh I’m so glad that you see this and stay tf away. Aren’t these the same breed that were sooooo outraged after reading and citing that Forbes article by Jason Schreier last year, “OMG Kassandra and Aya/Amunet originally were supposed to be the protagonist, I’m so oUTraGEd and feel rOBbeD that Ubisoft took this from us”? You’d think with all the devs that they are good friends with, they should know by now that Kassandra and f!Eivor were designed first in mind, then the male counterparts were added AFTER being forced by higher-ups and marketing. The Montreal writers keep having to reassure people that everything about Eivor is intentional and they have always intended that Eivor is a female. The first name alone, Eivor, is a female name. I think the devs already know they’d have to deal with idiots, so they added Varinsdottir in her last name (dottir means “daughter”), but I think the devs still underestimate their level of stupidity. They sure are attentive to plot details when it involves their brotherhood though, but women? *wheeze* They love AC2 sfm but it didn’t take them until last year to realize how dirty Aya/Amunet treated. Nobody paused when Origins was announced to say, but Amunet statue? Pleaseeee *wheeze* For them to go around saying that Kass and f!Eivor are just “shells” based on men and now, practically calling the devs lazy because making them masculine to save time/effort in development time really shows their true colors. If a woman isn’t slim-af-and-only-attracted-to-cishet men, then they’re not women. gnc, queer, trans women? I don’t need to take a guess to see what they view these women as. These fake feminists don’t find it disrespectful that Kass and f!Eivor are pushed aside for the male shells to take the spotlight, but they find Kass and f!Eivor being masculine and queer disrespectful. Someone please turn on “Send in the Clowns'' for me, I prefer the Judi Dench version.

You know what I find hypocritical about these fake feminist breeds? When they call for more female assassins content, they never once invalidate their beloved male protags, “We’re not here to cancel m!Eivor/Alexios/Bayek/Jacob/Arno, we just want more of f!Eivor/Kassandra/Amunet/Evie/Elise/Aveline”, but now that they have more backers, they immediately turn around and dismiss the only two AAA female protags as women because they’re “too masculine, like men.” That’s right! f!Eivor walking like a man and both Kass and f!Eivor wear male armors and are attracted to women automatically dismiss their existence as gnc, queer women. Being a masculine, queer woman somehow exempt them both from sexism because these two are just “men’s shells”? What kinda Isu drugs are they on? Now I wish f!Eivor had a true buff Viking body in her vanilla state (I know there’s muscles mod by amisthiosintraining and I, but still), because what else are these fake feminists gonna trash her on? f!Eivor is a shell for m!Eivor? *wheeze* What could’ve been said was, “I want a female-protag-only game because then the devs can focus all their time and effort on her story, for her” or “Ubisoft should give the devs more time, resources, and creative freedom to give players more historical context of the struggles the female protags have to deal with, compared to male protags”. For example: a side quest with Aspasia as she deals with how sexist people (surprise, women can be sexist too) were towards her as perhaps the most educated, influential woman in Athens at the time. Or how Kassandra had to fight her way to be allowed to compete in the Olympics. That’s all that’s needed to be said. There’s nothing wrong with asking/wanting a feminine female protag who is gender-conforming, but it says a lot about their true view of women when they drag gnc and queer women down to parade their idea of a superior woman.

But what did these fake feminists choose to “highlight, appreciate and support” instead? Oh that’s right, disregarding both Kassandra and f!Eivor as inferior women, because them fakers don’t deemed masculinity and queerness as the aUThenTIc female experience they want to play as. You know what’s worse? Pitting these female characters together to rate how “feminine” each of them are to deem which ones are more “real” as a woman. Can you imagine them doing that to the male protags? Knowing full well that the devs’ hands were tied when it comes to creative freedom when making Kassandra and f!Eivor, but still go around and shit on the devs for being “lazy”, while dismissing Kassandra f!Eivor experience as women because of their gnc and queerness. What kinda Beta Sigma (BS) is this? Oh I think I know the answer: reinforcing their ideas of what they find acceptable for their version of a woman. Honestly, it’s not the first time gnc, queer women are shit on in AC, remember that cursed DLC from Odyssey? Yea. I expect nothing more from Ubisoft-certified fans. Watch, if we somehow get a female-lead AAA game next installment and she happens to be queer, gnc, and godforbid to their fEMinISt standards, she happens to be trans as well, these fakers would most likely scream, “We support women. We want the REAL woman experience”. But if she happens to conform into their fEMinISt standards, you’ll get to hear how she’s their most favorite protag since Ezio cuz she’s a “real woman”. Again, nothing wrong with gender-conforming, feminine women, but using them as THE superior example, this fuckery/fakery reeks.

One last general tip from Doctor Who, “Goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage. Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit, without hope, without witness, without reward.” Look closely and you’ll see what those advantages and rewards are. 

p/s: Didn’t Ubisoft CEO just appoint his family member(s) to be in charge, while there were also discussion on how the new directors are no better than the sexist, racist ones that were fired/let-go? Sounds to me like it’s business as usual again. Or us Vietnamese have a saying, “It’s easier for rivers and mountains to change than human’s nature to even budge” (giang sơn dễ đổi, bản tính khó dời). I find it so ironic that “gaslight gatekeep girlboss” is trending on my dash.

#I'm no Pythia but I saw this light years away #handsomejaclyn #f!Eivor #Eivor #Kassandra #ac valhalla #ac odyssey #aya #amunet #evie frye #elise #ac origins #ac syndicate #aveline #ac liberation #ac unity #Cisterhood #misogynistic feminists

[midnights-light]

Ladybug and the hound

Chapter 1

Imma be honest I wasn’t expecting 1 person to read my story let alone 48 but life is full of surprises and while that may not seem like a lot of people I was expecting no one to read this so for me it means a lot. Now a few notes.

So I forgot to mention a few things in the last chapter such as Captain’s breed. He is a Malinois Dog breed, second I may use some things from @kelelamentia Dogs are a ladybugs best friend ‘cause I love the idea of the way Ladybug and Captain do the pound it.Now on to the second chapter. Also I did not forget August you’ll just have to read to know what happens with him. I also am terrible at describing things and how people look so imagine them as you please.

Learning about Marinette

Marinette’s POV

After the battle me and captain were just trying to get home so I could help maman and papa in the bakery but instead I run into the people I handed August to while I yelled at Chat. He’s been getting worse and worse each akuma that appears demanding that I go on a date with him and accept that I love him even though I told him that I don’t like him over and over again. I lost my feelings for Adrien when he left me to deal with the class bullying me to make me pay for ‘bullying’ Lila. One good thing that came from the Lila situation is that I learned who my real friends are. Max, Kim, Alix, Chloe, Kagami, Nino, and Luka all stick with me.

Max had his suspicions about Lila’s lies since the beginning but the napkin incident is what made him completely sure that she was lying because one it was a napkin so it couldn’t possibly gouge his eye out, and two is that even if it ‘could’ gouge his eye out HE HAS GLASSES which would protect his eyes. Kim and Nino have been my friends since forever so they know that I hate liars so when I called her a liar they knew that there must be a reason so one day after school they came to my house to ask me why I think she’s a liar. So I pointed out that all of the lies that could be proven wrong with just a simple google search. Alix has known me since we could walk so she knows that while I could hold my own in a fight, I wouldn’t do anything that would harm someone else on purpose (and if I did then I would do everything I could to make sure that they are ok afterwards) no matter how much they deserve it. Kagami and Luka know that I will give up my happiness if it means someone else will be happy like when I gave up on Adrien to let Kagami get with him, but sadly they broke up a month later after Kagami learned that he told me to take the high road in the Lila situation. And Chloe. Chloe is the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris so she has a knack for finding out liars, and after a month or two of me being bullied by the class sans, my friends, she came up to me and apologized for bullying me all those years. I forgave her because I know she can be good she just doesn’t have much experience in people being nice to her but my friends were still a little protective of me for a few weeks till they knew that she could be trusted.

They found out my identity by accident but I am so glad that they found out, especially when Chat or should I say Adrien acts like the world owes him something in exchange for ‘protecting’ Paris. I hadn’t meant to find out his identity yet cause I want to find the true black cat before I take his miraculous away from him. I am a true ladybug, but Adrien isn’t a true black cat but Master Fu needed to get both of them out into battle fast so he couldn’t look for a true black cat so Adrien would have to do, but ever since Lie-la showed up he acts as Chloe had before Lie-la. We have been talking about replacing him but I want to find the true black cat and test them to see if they are worthy and I am going to ask if they want the responsibility cause no one should be thrown headfirst into this kind of stuff like I was.

Where was I? Oh Right! I hadn’t meant to find out his identity but Plagg was getting sick and fed up with his behavior so he came to me one night and asked how long till we find the true black cat. I told him soon and that if we didn’t find them before my birthday (which was on Friday) that I would take the ring from him and asked Plagg to give me a clue as to who he is. The clue was his birthday and I thought of when the birthdays of every male blonde I know that is around my age was and landed on Adrien so I asked if i was right and he nodded then had to leave before he woke up. Back to the people I ran into I see that Damian I think is around my age and he also has a dog, doesn’t hurt that he is pretty handsome too.... WAIT WHAT!? ‘NO NO NO! BAD MARINETTE! YOU JUST MET HIM!

After he’s introduced Damian grabs my hand and place a kiss on the back, said “Nice too meet you Angel.” and I start blushing and internally freaking out like ‘OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG! HE KISSED MY HAND! AND HE CALLED ME ANGEL!’ Then I hear Captain growling at Damian. He looks at me slightly waiting to see if he can shred him apart or not. I quickly say “Sorry Damian, Captain’s a little protective of me and doesn’t like strangers being around me.” I say a little worried that he would be offended but to my surprise he says, “I understand.” then he holds out his hand for Captain to sniff which he does and after he does he still is growling but he doesn’t look ready to rip him to shreds at least. Then we hear snickering behind us and Damian glares at the source of the noise which turned out to be his family... OH RIGHT! I am being so rude right now only focusing on Damian and not paying attention to his family. Then Captain and his dog start playing with each other making us laugh.  Then I notice that August starts trying to say my name, “Mariette, Mariette!” Oh that’s the guy I gave August to... AUGUST!!! I completely forgot to tell them what to do with him till his mom is able to get him. “Oh! Hello to you to August.” I say causing him to laugh and try to hug me which causes Dick to hand him to me, “It’s nice to see you again to. How about we call your mom and get you a snack?” He laughs and I say, “I’ll take that as a yes!” I laugh. I then turn to them and say ,“So shall we start walking to the bakery?” A chorus of Yes is the response so I start talking with Damian while Captain and Titus, I learned was his name, continue to play as we walk. Me and Damian talked while we walked and by the time I noticed our surroundings we were across the street from the bakery and as I was about to say we were there someone called my name and I froze.

Damian’s POV

I was having fun (Yes FUN) with the Angel next to me and as she was about to say something when an amber haired girl with glasses and a girl with sausage like hair called her and they looked angry. Maybe they were her friends though judging by the way she froze probably not... Wait why did she freeze? Just as I was about to ask what’s wrong she suddenly says, “Ok well the bakery is across the street just tell them Marinette sent you and could you take Captain and August in with you? Thanks!” She quickly handed the leash to me and August to Dick and ran off to where the other girls were and pulled them around the corner and Captain was desperately trying to follow her and was pulling hard on the leash.

“So we’re going to see what that was about right?” Grayson asks, “I mean she seemed in a hurry to get to them before they got to her and get them out of sight, so something is off right?” “Well I think only one of us should go instead of all of us. It could be personal though so how about we head into the bakery and wait?” Father asks. “Actually Master Bruce I believe Master Damian should go see what is going on, since they get along quite nicely.” Alfred says with a hint of worry in his voice, and while normally I would try to object I really want to get some time alone with the Angel to talk and ,if the chance shows itself, make her blush some more. So I agree and start walking with Titus and Captain who has gotten more desperate to get to her the closer we got. As I was about to round the corner a voice made me stop in my tracks, “-is for hurting Lila Marislut. You destroyed her homework so she gets to destroy your designs.” I then hear shredding noises and hear her crying and begging them to stop. I try to get myself to move and help but her heart wrenching sobs kept me frozen in place.

As soon as the tearing stops I then hear a loud crack and that gets me to move faster than I thought possible. I round the corner ready to commit a murder or help the Angel, preferably both, and as soon as I do I see a scene that breaks my heart. Marinette is sitting on the ground with a large hand print on her cheek and she is surrounded by torn pages and she is trying and failing to not cry. I then notice that Captain and Titus got loose from my grasp and are chasing the girls away and after a block they come back and try to help cheer Marinette up. Just then she notices me and she starts freaking out, “D-Damian wh-what a-are- you doing the-there?” I get down on my knees and start helping her pick up  the torn papers and say, “We noticed that you looked scared to go to those girls and wanted to make sure that you were ok. Good thing I brought Titus and Captain with me.” That makes her laugh though her voice is a little hoarse. “Are you ready to get inside?” She asks though I don’t know why she’s worried about me she just got slapped and had her designs torn up. “Only if you are but if you need a few minutes I can wait with you.” I reply.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, “I’ve been through worse I-” As soon as she says that I feel my blood run cold and boil at the same time. How bad has she been hurt before and who hurt her? Then I notice that she’s still talking “Sorry you don’t want to hear about my problems.Shall we go in?” I then did something that I had never done before but I have seen Grayson do it to Drake after he had a long difficult day at WE, I hugged her tightly and Titus and Captain lick her face. “Sorry I’m not to sure what to do to help cheer someone up but I have seen my brother do this to help. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” I say then I feel her tightly hug me back but I find that I don’t mind it. “No it’s ok I actually needed a hug. Thanks.” We stay like that for a few minutes until she pulls away and I get a better look at her face and I have never wanted to commit a murder this badly. The place she got slapped is starting to swell and her eyes look like they lost the spark they had when we were talking. “Thank You. Really.” “I’m not the best at comforting someone so-” “No I mean Thank you for coming to check on me. Not many people would do that so thanks.” And in this moment I knew that I would do anything for her and protect her as much as possible. We get up and she takes Captains leash and the papers from me and starts to head to the bakery. As soon as we enter I hear my family happily talking with Marinette’s parents about busy and slow days.It seems that August’s mother has already picked him up so I guess this happens quite a bit but that makes me concerned about how often this happens. How often is Angel in danger of akumas (Whatever those are) harming her? I clear my throat and Grayson is the first to notice us, “Oh hey guys ho-” he then notices Marinettes red puffy eyes and the hand print on her face and his big brother instincts kick in, “What happened!? Are you Ok? Who did this?” Then he’s moved out of the way by Marinette’s Dad, “Marinette are you ok do we need to call Chloe, Luka, and Kagami?”

Marinette doesn’t say anything but nods. He then calls out to her mother, “Sabine can you call Chloe, Luka, and Kagami and see if they can come over?” “Already on it honey.” and not even a minute later the door bursts open and a Blonde girl, a Asian blue haired girl, and a chill looking guy with teal hair tackle Marinette in a hug with the blonde asking if she could sue them, the teal guy asking if she needs him to play her song for her, which breaks my heart a little cause he must be her boyfriend, and the blue haired girl asking, “Can I run them through my blade now Mari-hime?” “No Kagami also I have a few guests with me.” They then seem to notice us and they suddenly look ready to pounce at any second with the blonde doing quick introductions, “Hi I’m Chloe, that’s Kagami,” The girl with blue hair bows a little, “and that’s Luka,” The boy gives a nod with his head, “now I want you to answer truthfully, what do you want with Maribug?” “What?” Asked Todd and Drake at the same time. She let’s out an annoyed huff, “I said, What are you intentions with Marinette. You know are you using her, do you want to be friends with her, or what? And answer truthfully we will know if you lie to us and it won’t end well for you. It doesn’t matter who you are we won’t let you hurt Maribug.” She says with a snarl. I don’t know when or how but somehow Marinette’s parents got behind them and are giving us dangerous looks and Captain is back to growling at us. And Angel’s friends look ready to commit murder if anyone harms her.

The looks they give us makes everyone even father and Alfred take a step back. I had multiple questions running through my head at once. What happened to this beautiful Angel to make her friends so protective of her? Wait beautiful? Where did that come from? And why did my heart skip a beat when she looked at me? And why... I’m in love aren’t I? Well guess the city lives up to it’s nickname. 

Find out how this goes in the next chapter. Also we find out how Marinette and Captain met and how he became Hunter.

So I feel like I need to say a few things just so that they are known

1.I have quite a bit of free time but I can’t always get the motivation to write even though I want to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later

2. I have several parts of the story planned out in my head I’m just not sure what leads up to that point what happens to cause the thing to happen, or what happens after ting happens so I’m just running different scenarios through my head and I can’t make decisions easily so I have all these scenarios happening and I’m not sure which one I want and so most of the time I just come up with one when I start writing so sometimes it’ll make sense and other times probably not.

now I don’t know how many chapters I’ll write so the most I’m going to try for now is fifteen chapters and if I have more ideas then there’ll be more. Let me know what you thought of this chapter. See ya guys next time, Bye!

One last thing I don’t have a set time to chapter updates I just plan to write and get them out to you guys as soon as I can.

tags

#iglowinggemma28  #i-am-ironic

#marinette x damian #maribat #Marrinette Dupain Cheng #ml x dc #ml crossover #daminette #dc crossover #adrien salt #alya salt #lila is exposed #class salt #guardian marinette