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why-animals-do-the-thing · 28 days

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Over the last few years, I’ve begun to heavily encourage people to think of a zoo or aquarium or sanctuary being accredited as conveying important information about their ethos / operations / politics - but not as an inherent indicator of quality. Why? Because accrediting groups can be and are fallible. There are issues with all of the accrediting groups and programs, to varying degrees, and so they’re just a piece of information for a discerning zoo-goer to incorporate into their overall opinion. I just saw a news article go by with some data that proves my point.

First off, good for Houston, no commentary that follows is directed that them.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a headline like this - there was one a couple years ago, about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado also getting a perfect inspection. But here’s what bugs me about it.

If you see/hear the phrase “Facility X has been accredited by Y organization, which holds the highest standards in the world for this type of facility”, it kind of implies that facility X meets all of those standards, doesn’t it? Not most of them, not the majority. When you hear that a zoological facility has gone through a rigorous process to earn an accreditation branded (by the accrediting org) as “the gold standard” in the industry… the general public is going to interpret that as saying these facilities are in compliance with every single rule or standard. And what these headlines tell us, alongside the commentary from AZA in the articles, is that it’s not only not true - it never has been true. Most AZA accredited facilities apparently don’t meet all the AZA standards when they’re inspected, and that’s both okay with them and normal enough to talk about without worrying about the optics.

Let’s start with the basic information in the Houston Chronicle article, which will have been provided to them by the zoo and the AZA.

“Since it's inception in 1974, the AZA has conducted more than 2,700 inspections and awarded only eight perfect evaluations throughout the process's 50-year history. Houston Zoo's final report is 26 pages long — and filled with A's and A-pluses."

Okay, so… doing that math, less than one percent of AZA accreditation inspections don’t meet all the standards at the time of inspection. But, wait, that’s not just what that says. That bit of information isn’t talk about AZA accredited facilities vs the ones that got denied accreditation: this is telling us that of facilities that earned AZA accreditation, basically none of them meet all the standards at the time. This isn’t talking about tabled accreditations or provisional ones where they come back and check that something improved. Given that math from earlier, this information means that most - if not all - AZA accredited facilities have repeatedly failed to meet all of the standards at one point in time … and have still been accredited anyway.

That tracks with what was said about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, back in 2021 when they got their perfect accreditation.

“Cheyenne Mountain Zoo has earned an incredibly rare clean report of inspection and its seventh consecutive five-year accreditation from the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA). In nearly 50 years of accreditations, CMZoo is only the fourth organization to earn a ‘clean’ report, which means there wasn’t a single major or minor concern reported”

Seven consecutive accreditation processes - and only one of them where they actually met all the standard at the time.

Here’s what the AZA CEO had to say about Houston’s accreditation achievement in that article, which reinforces my conclusion here:

"AZA president and CEO Dan Ashe says the multi-day inspection process, which occurs every five years, has been described as "comprehensive, exhausting and intimidating."

"We send a team of experts in who spend several days talking to employees, guests and the governing board. They look at animal care and husbandry. They look at the governance structure and finances. They look comprehensively at the organization," Ashe explains. "For a facility like Houston Zoo to have a completely clean accreditation and inspection is extremely rare. These inspectors are experts, it's hard to get to the point where they can't find something.""

Now, here’s the rub. We, as members of the public, will never have any idea which standards it is deemed okay for a given AZA facility to not meet. All of the zoological accrediting groups consider accreditation information proprietary - the only way we find out information about how a facility does during accreditation is if they choose to share it themselves.

On top of that, it’s complicated by the fact that last time I read them AZA had over 212 pages of accreditation standards and related guidance that facilities had to comply with. Now, AZA doesn’t accredit facilities if there are major deviations from their standards, or if there’s an issue on something important or highly contentious. So - based on my completely outsider but heavily researched perspective - this probably means that most zoos are in non-compliance with a couple of standards, but not more than a handful.

To make trying to figure this out even more fun, it is also important to know that AZA’s standards are performance standards: whether or not they’re “met” is based on a subjective assessment performed by the accreditation inspectors and the accreditation committee. This means that what qualifies as fulfilling the standards can and does vary between facilities, depending on who inspected them and the composition of the committee at the time.

So why do I care so much? Because when it comes to public trust, branding matters. AZA has gained a reputation as the most stringent accrediting group in the country - to the point that it can lobby legislators to write exceptions into state and federal laws just for its members - based on how they message about their accreditation program. How intensive it is, how much oversight it provides, what a high level of rigor the facilities are held to. That… doesn’t track with “well, actually, the vast majority of the zoos meet most of the standards most of the time.” People who support AZA - people who visit AZA accredited zoos specifically because of what it means about the quality of the facility - believe that accreditation means all the standards are being met!

To be clear: most AZA zoos do meet some pretty high standards. It’s likely that what are being let slide are pretty minor things. I expect it’s on stuff the facility can improve without too much hassle, and it might be that doing so is probably part of what’s required. There’s not enough information available to people outside the fold. But I will say, I don’t think any zoo is getting accredited despite AZA having knowledge of a serious problem.

Where I take issue with this whole situations is the ethics of the marketing and branding. AZA frames themselves as being the best-of-the-best, the gold standard, when it turns out that most of their accredited zoos aren’t totally in compliance, and they know and it’s fine. They seem to be approaching accreditation like a grade, where anything over a certain amount of compliance is acceptable. The public, though, is being fed a narrative that implies it’s a 99/100 pass/fail type of situation. That’s not super honest, imho, which shows up in how there’s zero transparency with the public about it - it goes unspoken and unacknowledged, except when it’s used for promotional gain.

And then, like, on top of the honesty in marketing part, it’s just… something that gets joked about, which really rubs me the wrong way. Like this statement from the media releases for the Cheyenne Mountain accreditation:

“Another of our ‘We Believe’ statements is, ‘We value laughter as good medicine,’” said Chastain. “To put this clean accreditation into perspective, when I asked Dan Ashe, AZA president and CEO, for his comments about how rare this is, he joked, ‘A completely clean inspection report is so unusual, and so unlikely, it brings one word to mind — bribery!’“

So, TL;DR, even AZA accreditation is designed so that their accredited zoos don’t have to - and mostly don’t - actually fully meet all the standards. I’d love to know more about what types of standards AZA is willing to let slide when they accredit a facility, but given the proprietary nature of that information, it’s pretty unlikely there will ever be more information available. AZA accreditation tells you what standards a zoo aspires to meet, what their approximate ethics are, and what political pool they play in. When it comes to the quality of a facility and their animal care, though, sporting an accreditation acronym is just a piece of the larger puzzle.

#AZA accreditation #zoo accreditation #zoo politics #my research #There’s a lot more nuance to how accreditation inspections work and how facilities with bigger issues are given changes to correct them #but that’s for another post #right now I’m just irked that it is so normative for AZA facilities to get accredited without clean inspections

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burst-of-iridescent · 3 months

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What would change in the Zutara ship/dynamic and/or Zuko and Katara individually if Zuko didn't betray Katara in Ba Sing Se and immediately chose her?

i think most canon divergent zutara fanfictions get it right: they'd probably become close friends in no time, and develop a dynamic similar to what they have in the ember island players. but there's a reason this scenario is best left to fanon - as fun as it would be to see more zutara bonding in the first half of book three, there's always something lost for something gained, and in this case it would likely come at the cost of the depth and intimacy they developed in canon through the WAT and TSR arcs.

it is vitally important to their relationship development that katara gets to be deeply, righteously angry at zuko, and particularly that she goes on her field trip to find yon rha while they're still not on friendly terms. not only does her anger bar her from instinctually falling into a caretaking role with zuko as she does with most of the gaang at one point or another, allowing her to be cared for rather than being the carer, it also frees her from feeling like she needs to fit into any perceived image he might have of her. katara makes it clear to zuko that she owes him nothing - least of all her friendship, and everything that entails.

and it is this very lack of obligation that gives katara the freedom to be wholly and entirely herself. people always point to how katara behaves "uncharacteristically" in the southern raiders to prove that zuko is a bad influence, but the truth is that the way she acts in tsr is an inherent part of who she is. katara can be cold, furious and vengeful just as she can be warm, compassionate and friendly, and the fact that she can freely show both sides to zuko isn't because he's pushing her to be someone she's not, but because she has no need to live up to an idealised version of herself.

this would likely still apply to a degree in a no-betrayal au (tsr would happen in any version of book 3, just because it's so significant to katara's arc), but i find it probable that katara might be more hesitant about bringing zuko along, or less willing to bloodbend before him so readily. katara has to witness zuko's lowest point before she allows him to see hers. she has to take her dark-night-of-the-soul journey with someone she knows has neither the right nor the willingness to condemn her choices, in order to be able to focus entirely on herself and what she needs. very telling that she doesn't ask aang, her future husband, to go with her for support.

it's because zuko allows himself to be a whetstone for the blade of her fury, because he cares enough to find out why, because he tries to help when she's given him no reason to do so, because he stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her at her darkest, most conflicted hour without forcing her to bear the burden of caring what he thinks or feels about it, that katara is able to forgive and befriend him. it is because they see each other at their highest and lowest moments that they're able to have the deepest and most intimate relationship of anyone in the gaang. and none of that would've happened without the betrayal in ba sing se.

after all, love is brightest in the dark.

#zutara #zutara asks #zutara meta

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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tw - implied kidnapping and borderline shit-posting.

"Why all the sudden questions, little rabbit?"

You drum your fingers against the metal slab of his worktable, letting your eyes fall to the scrawled reports he was currently sorting through. The medical gibberish was above your head, as was the scribbled mix of short-hand and abbreviation unique to him and his other sections, but the fact that you were allowed to wander his laboratories rather than locked in your sterile bedroom proved that it was nothing particularly important to him. Or, nothing particularly interesting, at least.

"I'm just curious," you assured him, doing your best to keep up an easy smile. "Wouldn't anyone want to know where the greatest mind in Teyvat got his education?"

He hummed, drinking in the praise unabashedly. He was a narcissist, first and foremost, his self-obsession nearly overshadowing his sadism at times. "Sumeru's Akademiya, of course. I was under the impression that my history was common knowledge."

"I mean, everyone knows you went to the Akademiya. I want to know where you graduated from, though."

His grin took on an odd quirk. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Well, you're a doctor, right?" He opened his mouth, but you didn't give him time to respond. "Did you go to another university after getting expelled from the Akademiya? Was it in Snezhnaya? I might've gone there, too - I transferred a few times before..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the metal collar wrapped around your neck. "What was your dissertation on? I'm guessing 'The Benefits of Excessive and Unrestricted Human Experimentation' wasn't a board-approved topic, just yet."

He pursed his lips.

"You did write a dissertation, didn't you?"

he turned his head to the side.

"You did graduate, didn't you?"

His response was low, grumbled, barely audible. "Her Excellency bestowed me with an honorary doctorate. It's the highest distinction a Snezhnayan scholar can receive."

"When they don't have an actual degree, you mean."

"Little rabbit," he started, abandoning his reports completely in favor of resting his cheek on his fist, narrowing his eyes and letting his grin widen into something malicious. "If I hear one more word out of you concerning degrees and universities, consider my next available vivisection table yours and yours alone. Is that understood?"

You nodded, putting on your most obedient smile. "Of course, Mr. Dottore, sir."

"Why don't you head back to your room?"

"Why don't you go back to college?"

"Get on the fucking table--"

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin imagines #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yanderecore #yancore

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inej-ruination-ghafa · 2 months

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TIME, CURIOUS TIME - L.C

Summary: the one where you first meet Luke and your entire world view changes.

Warnings: adoption, blood, character death

Wordcount: 3.6k

Masterlist: Time, passing

If there was one thing that people needed to know about you, it's that you don't like bullies. You hated them in fact.

There was an anger inside of you. A primal anger that oozes from your pores at every instance. You were angry at everything in life, your mother for giving you up for adoption, your father for ignoring you. You were angry at the world for every single bad thing that happened.

You had only been at camp for four months and you had gotten into eight separate fights. Just like normal. Just like in the Foster homes.

Now you were sitting in Chiron's office with a black eye. You had gotten into a fight with one of the kids again and was being punished for it. Even though you thought that the punching he had received had been deserved.

Your eyes were trained at your hands as they rested in your lap. You did not want to look up and see the disappointment in his eyes.

"You are one of the most interesting campers I've ever had," he said, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him. That was not what you had expected him to say after what you had done. You were expecting more of a lecture.

"Why?" you questioned.

"You've been here 4 months and already proved that you are a superb archer and swordsman, a brilliant medic. Yet you fail to stop yourself engaging in this tomfoolery," he explained.

You thought about all that he had listed to you. You were a child of Apollo after all, you should be good at all of those things and you weren’t surprised that he thought it was an accomplishment. You didn't want to be anything like your family.

There was silence and you looked at the centaur, “Am I expelled?”

He chuckled to himself almost incredulously, "No. We don't kick students out when they are troublesome,"

Troublesome. That was one word to describe you.

You had always been seen as the problem and the solution was always to send you away. You were a problem of the highest degree and everyone agreed. Even Chiron.

Chiron looked at you, arms folded across your chest as you rolled your eyes, "You know. If we didn't already know your godly parent, I would assume you were an Ares kid,"

you scoffed, looking up at him. You hated where he was coming from but it made sense. That anger in your bones was reminiscent of an Ares kid.

"That felt like an insult," you spat out, bitter. You didn't want to be compared to any of them monsters.

He tilted his head to the side, not understanding why you saw your anger as some sort of problem, "It's not. It's a compliment,"

You wanted to scoff at the idea. Anger was not a positive trait and nobody had ever noticed a single positive trait inside of you.

Silence fell over the room and you looked away from him, feeling shame bubble up in your chest at the way you were acting; you didn't mean to act like a spoiled brat.

"Anyway. I still have to punish you. So you will be sentenced to a week's worth of night shifts at the infirmary," he said.

Your head whipped up, "A week? I only broke his nose!" You could have done worse and you would have if your siblings hadn’t pulled you off of the teenage boy.

Chiron nodded, remembering the way that the sixteen year old boy cradled his face, blood dripping down his chin as he looked at the thirteen year old girl. He had never seen an Ares kid look so defeated by such a little camper.

"You still broke a fellow capers nose. And your dessert privileges will be taken away for that duration," He said.

He smiled at you and you stood up, mumbling a thank you under your breath before you walked outside. This was going to be hell.

If there was one thing that you hated more than anything, it was night duty. You looked around the medical bay and watched as the boy in there slept. He had a concussion and if it were up to you, he would be sent away but Chiron was a stickler to the rules - he needed 24 hour observation.

You walked around aimlessly, a cup of coffee in your hand.

Your life was a mess. You hated yourself. You hated the world. There was nothing here that made you want to stay and every day you looked out of that window in the Apollo Cabin, wondering if you would just leave. Its not like anyone would miss you.

That self loathing bubbled in your chest and you could feel it heavy on your chest.

This camp was supposed to be somewhere that all demigods are safe but in all truth, you had never been more lonely than you had been at Camp Half Blood. You felt abandoned by the Gods and the feeling was getting worse daily.

You were taken out of your thoughts by the sound of someone yelling. You brushed it off, everyone was always having nightmares at camp.

Then you heard them yelling for help and you realised something was wrong. Everyone would be asleep by now and you knew you would have to help.

You didn't want to play the hero. Everyone here acted like some sort of Greek hero and you hated it. But you knew you had to help so you looked around for something and spotted a sword at the side of the bed. You ignored the concussed teenager asleep in the bed as you picked the sword up, jotting down a note.

It was heavy in your hands and you didn't know how you would use it but knew you had to leave quickly. It was unbalanced, unnatural and you were not the best swordsman so you also picked up your bow and arrow, strapping that to your back before you ran off.

You rushed to the Big House for backup but as you got closer, you could hear the yells getting more desperate and knew there was no time. You had to help them and soon.

Muscle memory and adrenaline took you through the woods, trying to find where the voices were coming from.

You called out at the top of the hill, asking if there was anyone there but you heard nothing.

For a second, the noise had completely stopped and you felt your cheeks warm up. This had to be some sort of prank to get back at you for fighting the head of the Ares cabin.

You scoffed, turning around and preparing to leave. You could not believe that you fell for it and you could feel the embarrassment in your cheeks.

That's when you heard the little girls voice again, "Help! Somebody!"

You could see a figure by the camp sign now, illuminated by the fire. "Shit! Shit!"

There was no hesitation as you ran down the hill, not even stopping when you saw the fury hovering over the group of teenagers. There were four people there, one that you recognised as a satyr.

"Run annabeth! Take her Luke!" The main girl said, a large stick in her hands as she tried to bat the fury away.

You froze.

Fight or flight.

You could stay here and help the little girl as she held onto the boy's jacket or you could turn back and pretend that you haven't seen any of this. You knew the latter wasn't even an option.

"You don't have a real weapon!” The boy called out, eyes wide.

That's when you remembered you was there. You ran into the clearing and the kids turned to look at her in shock. They had not expected some hero to come out of the shadows but you were no hero, just someone who had stumbled into the situation.

You stepped into the clearing, "Here," you yelled out, throwing the girl the sword and she caught it quickly.

They all watched as you pulled your bow and arrow out, drawing it and taking a deep breath before shooting at the fury without any care for your own safety. At the same time, the punk looking girl stabbed the fury before being knocked to the floor.

The boy tucked the little girl into his chest as he watched the other girl get hit by the fury, falling over. He let out a yell.

You could only stand there and watch it all unfold. you didn't even know this girl's name and yet she was dying in front of you.

The little girl was sobbing now, the sounds muted as she tucked her head into the boys chest. He was trying to hide it but his chest was heaving up and down.

There was a second when the fury looked at you and you knew you were next. The fury was clutching its arm from where you had hit her. She looked at the camper, sneering before flying off. Her job was done.

In a matter of seconds, lightning struck the teenage girl and she began to turn into a tree, branches springing from her arms and greenery growing around her head.

There was silence. Nobody knew what to say, especially not you who was confused out of your mind.

You looked at the satyr and then you recognised him. He was the same one that saved you from that police station, "Grover, what's going on?” you asked, looking at the satyr.

His hands were shaking as he gestured towards them, "Meet our new residents of camp,"

"What the fu-" you pointed at the tree, yelling out in confusion, "What in the God's name is going on? She's a tree!"

The boy looked at you angrily and you recognised that look in his eye all too well, "The better question is who the hell are you?" The boy said defensively.

You threw your bow on the floor, adrenaline still coursing rapidly through your veins, "I saved your life," you spat the words out.

He walked over to you, towering over you and you wondered how old he was, "She still died," he spat out.

This close, you could see the cut on his jaw, the bruise growing on his shoulder and the tears that were drying on his cheeks. He looked almost ethereal in the fire light.

There was anger in both of your eyes and as you looked at him, you realised that nobody had ever looked at you like that. It was like looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You scoffed, ignoring the feeling in your chest, "I tried my best,"

Grover walked over, interrupting the two of them before they could get into a physical fight, "This is our Healer,"

There was silence as the two teenagers looked at one another, neither of them standing down. He seemed angry and it was understood but there was no need to take it out on you.

It was you who turned away first, "Come on in. You both need to be checked on and I'm working the night shift. Grover, go get Chiron,"

He nodded and when they reached the camp, Grover split off from the group to go to the Big House.

You could feel the tension in the air as you walked towards the medical hut. There was silence and you could remember how nerve wracking it was for you when you had arrived here. You felt a little bit rude for yelling at him now.

“This way,” you lead them to the medical bay and the boy with the concussion was out cold so you just turned the lights on, ushering the two inside.

You turned to the boy and decided not to make this too awkward, "How old is she?" You asked.

He narrowed his eyes at you before caving, "Seven," he said begrudgingly. He clearly didn't like you.

You turned to where the little girl was sitting on the bed and knelt down in front of her. You could remember how scared you were when you had arrived and you wanted to make it as comfortable for her as you could.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" You asked, trying to not scare her.

The little girl looked over your shoulder at the boy behind you and he nodded, arms folded across his chest. You was just making sure he thought that she was safe to talk

"Annabeth," she replied.

"That's such a pretty name. Now, tell me, does anything really hurt?" You asked with a smile.

She nodded and gestured down at her leg, "I twisted my ankle," she stated.

"Your ankle? Let me have a look," you sat down on the floor and looked up at the girl and she nodded. you then rolled up her trouser leg a little bit to look at it.

You examined it for a second, "It's a little swollen, do you want me to wrap it up?” Annabeth must have been so freaked out by all of this, you didn't want to scare her at all.

Annabeth nodded and you reached over to the side for some bandage and wrapped it around her ankle, tying it together before standing up.

You grabbed the Ambrosia, handing it to her, "Now. This is magic okay, you eat a little bit of this and it will male you feel better instantly,"

She was hesitant at first and then when she took a bite, she ate the whole bit. She smiled and looked at you, muttering a thank you.

You helped her up and then turned to look at the boy behind her, "I'll help your big brother now,"

Luke had been standing there the whole time, arms folded across his chest as he judged what you were doing. He didn't trust anything related to the Gods, especially not some weird medic.

"I don't need to be examined by a child," he said with a scoff

You looked at him again, narrowing your eyes, "I'm thirteen. I doubt you're much older than me,"

There was tension between the two young teenagers. Anyone worth a pulse could see it and they could tell that there was a shared anger between the two.

"Thirteen," he scoffed at the idea of you looking after him, "who taught you medical practices?"

You were starting to get mad. You couldn't understand why this kid wasn't going to just let you look after him when he needed it.

There was an anger at the gods on him that you recognised but there was no need to take it out on you.

"I'm a child of Apollo, i was born with it in my blood," You poked him in the chest before stepping back, "Now sit your ass down,"

He looked at Annabeth and she gave him a smile like she wanted him to get looked after. He sighed, he couldn’t let her down so he sat down on the bed.

You folded your arms across your chest, "Same question I asked Annabeth. Does anything really hurt?" You asked. You were mean to him, ignoring all of your bedside manners.

He shook his head, lips pursed together, "You didn't ask me what my name was,"

You sighed, folding your arms across your chest, "What's your name?" You asked, tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Luke," he looked over at Annabeth and the girl was smiling now and he smiled too. It was the first time he’d seen her smile in weeks, "And I'm fourteen,"

You looked down at the injury for a second, "This needs stitches," you said when you saw a wound in his shoulder, it had cut through his shirt and was starting to bleed a lot more.

You could tell that he knew that he needed to get helped but that he was so stubborn that he wasn't going to get it done. It was a pretty bad wound.

"I'll be fine," he turned his head away, stubborn, "I don't need your magic, i don't need any help for the Gods,"

You were starting to get mad at him now. He was stubborn, too stubborn, "I don't work for them," you said, scoffing, "Now do you want it stitched up or not?"

There was silence for a second and then he nodded his head. He knew that he needed help even if he was a little bit reluctant to it. You smiled with the knowledge that you had convinced him.

"Annabeth, can you go and get changed into these nice new clothes? You can go into that little room there," you picked up some spare clothes from a pile and handed them to her.

The girl smiled before walking away, "Thank you,"

"You’re welcome sweetheart," you watched as she walked away, closing the door.

You could feel your heart sink in your chest. You couldnt imagine having to come here at such a young age, it broke your heart.

You turned around and looked at Luke, a smirk growing on your face, "You're gonna have to take your shirt off,"

There was a second where you could see the blush riding to hours bells at the idea but he decided to just be annoying about it.

He was cocky about it, pulling his shirt off slowly before handing it to you. You had to hide the blush on your cheeks as you pulled up a stool, sitting in front of him.

The cut wasn't just on his shoulder, it spanned down a couple of centimetres through his chest. You placed the stool in front of him, sitting down.

"This is gonna sting," you said as you brushed the area with a disinfectant. He winced at the feeling of it on his cut, hand clutching onto the bed underneath him.

You muttered a sorry as you pulled the wipe away, placing it down before putting your gloves on and getting ready to stitch him back up.

You gave him a look, “You know, I could just give you ambrosia, then it would heal quicker,” you suggested.

He shook his head, “I dont want help from the Gods. We do this like mortals or not at all,”

You could tell something had really happened to him in his life to make him hate the gods so much and whatever it was it must have been bad.

“You’re decision,” you muttered as you started to sew him up, starting on the easier part on his chest and then moving up to the deep section on his shoulder.

He was tense and you didn't know what to do to try and calm him down, he just had to sit there and get on with it. You didn't want to hurt him.

As you reached the last stitch on his shoulder, pulling it tight and then tying it, he winced and then muttered a curse word under his breath. you looked up at him, feeling guilty.

"Sorry," you muttered under your breath, “But i'm done now,”

"No, I'm sorry. I was a jerk to you," he muttered your name quietly after that, almost like he felt embarrassed that he had remembered and you looked up at him. You didn't know that he had remembered your name.

You could feel your cheeks warmed up at the idea and you gave him a half hearted smile, "Thanks," you said, brushing another wipe over his chest and shoulder.

"I am sorry. My friend just died," he explained, tears burning in the back of his eyes at the thought.

"She had a Heroes death," you said before scoffing and then looking around to make sure that nobody could hear, "Not that that's worth anything. The Gods still let her die, they let them all die,"

Luke's face lit up as you said that. Nobody had ever shared his hatred towards the Gods before and all of the anger that he had towards you vanished in as second as he looked into your eyes.

His smile was infectious and you could feel one growing on your face just at the sight of him, "You're right! They're awful,”

There was another lightning strike and you could hear the thunder rumbling outside of the camp. Zeus did not like that criticism of his role as a father.

"Might not want to say that here," you said with a laugh.

Luke laughed too and you smiled at the sound, it was nice to hear someone laugh. He liked it as well, he couldn't remember the last time he laughed.

You smiled to yourself. You couldn't remember the last time that you had laughed with someone. It was nice to feel connected to someone, even if you’d only just met.

You handed him a camp shirt, assuming his size. He thanked you before pulling it over his head and then fixing his hair.

Annabeth walked out wearing one of your old shirts. You smiled, reaching your hand out and feeling the girl take it. She instantly cuddled up to you, not fully understanding what had happened that night.

You held close, eyes meeting Lukes. He reached forward, brushing a hand over Annabeth’s hair.

"You look great, I’m just gonna show you guys to the cabin a-" you started to explain before Chiron walked into the room.

They all went silent and as he looked at the group, Grover standing by his side, her knew this was it. There was a bad feeling in his chest and he knew that the prophecy that he had been fearing was going to come true soon. How did he know? Just a feeling.

A/N: Parts of this fic come from my other fic The Outsiders (linked here) so don't worry if it looks familiar or if you think it's plagiarised, I wrote both versions. If you want to read that you can.

This is the first part of a three chapter fic and this will be nothing like my book. This is a seperate fic, the start is just familiar.

Also. They are thirteen and fourteen in this chapter but by the time there is any romance, they will be 18. Please don't be weird about them.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x apollo!reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #percy jackson books #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke percy jackson #luke pjo #time passing series

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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

Text

𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩

↳ summary: you ask your distant and cold professor for some help with your thesis. good thing he seems to be an expert on fear

↳ warnings: mentions of murder, booze, guns, and some gore. canon type gotham violence. a wiff of stalking maybe?

↳ song: aleph—gesaffelstein

masterlist!

University life wasn't much different than you had expected. Television and movies glam it up to make it sound like the peak of your young adult life. A time for exceeding expectations and drinking cheap booze out of those weird solo cups in a random person's basement. But this was Gotham—where crime is the highest in the country and misfortune runs galore. The closest anyone got to walking into a stranger's basement these days was with the threat of a gun at their back.

In preparation for the quote-unquote finest school Gotham had to offer, instead of going out and buying the list of supplies your school recommended, you simply lowered your expectations. Not like there was much to begin with in the first place. You could get a protractor later.

Your thought process proved to be worth it too. Barely an hour into your first day, the campus was evacuated as a precaution for a major villain sighting in the area. Something about filling up a building with highly dangerous gas. As of weeks later, details still hadn't been released to the public. That was fine by you. All you cared about was not getting ripped away from your precious lunch again.

The campus cafeteria was drafty and smelled of mold, parties were thrown way too often, and most of your professors were stern with classes people only took so they could get their degrees.

In that case, Mr. Crane was no different from any of the other teachers.

There was certainly no lack of students in his class on the first week—the largely female percentage most likely gathered because of his pretty face. But by the end of it, over half had already dropped out.

You were not one of them. Somewhat regrettably, you had begun to think after hours of pouring over papers in just the first week. But you needed this class to fully understand your thesis topic and you'd be damned if you moved all the way out to Gotham for nothing.

That was what you were thinking about as you rounded the back row of Doctor Crane's class, staring blankly at the missed call from your mother atop your phone's home screen.

It had practically become a ritual for her to call you at least once a day since you'd moved to the city. Anytime you didn't pick up, it would send her into a frenzy—despite your multiple explanations of why you have your phone on silent during lectures. But that wouldn't stop her from constantly pleading for you to come back and finish getting your degree at home. Because even if it would take longer, and completely drain your bank account, at least you would be away from those lunatics. Or so she called them.

"You have nothing to worry about." You'd told her one time while watching a bowl of ramen bubble angrily on your stove. "Even if I was mugged or something, I'm sure the Batman would save me."

It had been meant as a half joke, said only to quell your mothers worries. Yet the more and more newspaper stands you passed on your way to the store, the more the vigilanties name came up. Often accompanied by the words HERO or SAVIOR afterward.

The sudden memory of newspapers stopped you right as you were about to cross the threshold from the lecture hall to the rest of the building. You were quick to turn around, flipping your phone back into your pants pocket loosely before approaching the professor's desk. A few more students filed out from behind you, one even tossing you a wave, before it was just you and the professor left.

Doctor Crane was nothing short of intimidating. Everything from the clean cut suit he worse, to his icy blue eyes—and even his second title as lead doctor in the nearby Arhum Asylum—was surrounded by an air of stoic professionalism.

The man hadn't even been there on the first day of school. Something that would have off-put you if not for the sudden evacuation, haulting any chance of first impressions. Instead, he had shown up the next day like nothing had happened: lips pressed into a tight line and eyes dull as he spoke to the class without really looking at anyone.

He had made it clear on multiple occasions that he was rarely available after class or for tutoring hours, but you doubted that even if he was, nearly anyone would show up for a one on one conversation.

Looks like you would have to be the outlier today.

You waited patiently as he shuffled from one stack of paper to another, eyes never once drifting over the rim of his glasses to look at you. Occasionally you would catch a glimpse of his usually devoid face break into a little frown before making a mark on a paper and moving on. You resisted the urge to peak and see if any of those papers were yours.

"Yes?" He adressed you by your last name suddenly. Packets and papers continued to shuffle. This time he did spare you a glance, a flash of something swirling in his cold eyes before disappearing. Or maybe that had been the dim light. It had been to quick for you to catch.

You cleared your throat before speaking; adjusting your bag unconsciously.

"I had a question or two for you about my thesis topic." You said with a level tone. He asked what it was somewhat dismissively, his monotone way of speaking ever present.

"I've been researching fear and its effects on the human brain for quite sometime, so I felt it was only fitting for that to be my topic."

That seemed to gather his attention. When you looked up from your examination of the plain black stapler on the corner of his desk, you were met with one raised eyebrow. His hand was writing on the stapled essay before him considerably slower.

If you squinted hard enough it almost looked like he was smiling.

"May I ask what has garnered your interest in such a subject?" He pressed. For a moment your mind went a little blank, not expecting such undivided attention from him. It was unnerving, concidering that before today he probably didn't even know your first name.

"Well, I've always been interested in how much emotions have a grip on the mind." The words were now tumbling from your mouth in a flurry of half-baked thoughts.

"It was only after moving here that I really realized how it can affect an entire city, much less just one person. Everyone knows how absurd the crime rates here are, but I don't think they've ever seen the stark contrast in the Gotham residents from, say, another neighboring city.

And not to mention there's a whole group of personas parading around the block inspiring pure fear. When the bigger crimes aren't outwardly released to the public, I'm starting to think the ones the police can cover up are being covered up. I did a quick search of specific types of crimes related to the patterns of people like the Joker, Bane, and Scarecrow, and too much adds up for it to all be a coincidence."

You reminded yourself to breathe. You knew you were passionate about this subject—hence the decision in thesis topic—but you were never this chatty with it. Something about Doctor Cranes' unwavering stare drew it all out of you in one go. He was a surgeon at the moment, prying your brain apart from the inside out and turning it over in his hands.

Or maybe you were over analyzing things again.

"And what do you think of this Scarecrow?" He had stopped grading now, plucking the clear rimmed glasses of the bridge of his nose and folding them neatly beside him. In a second, his icy blue gaze seemed to intensify in strength, pinning you in place like a specimen of his to observe. You made the brief connection between this and a lepidopterist pinning up butterflys by their wings. It was quick to leave.

Instead you thought back as news clippings and articals flashed in bold print on your mind. Pictures of the victims he had since left behind followed.

Most of them had died from shock or poison, toxins coursing through their bloodstream too fast for their bodies to handle. Not a wonderful way to go, but it was no better or worse than the dozens of mugging gone wrong that occurred everyday. If you ignored how they had all clawed their eyes out in terror, that is.

Your response came slow and methodical, words chosen with care. You were well aware that people had been thrown out of prestigious universities for speaking their minds about less, and you couldn't afford that right now. Besides. He had asked you a question. Who were you to deny him?

"I think what he's managed to make, to do, is a breakthrough in the scientific and medical field." If your professor noted the way you swallowed thickly he didn't say anything.

"What else?" It was almost like he knew every thought that crossed your mind before it even formed. As if he had been preparing for this exact moment.

You could continue. You could tell him that you'd started sitting by your thoroughly locked window at night, waiting patiently to catch a glimpse of a masked maniac. You could tell him that monster was the exact thing that pushed you to move to Gotham. You most certantly could tell him that you wanted to get your hands on that gas to do some tests of your own—see exactly what this Scarecrow had managed to create.

But instead you looked to the left and told him that was it.

"Well if that's all, I would like to continue this conversation at a later date." Doctor Cranes glasses were back on now as he stood up and began gathering his things.

"I'm not sure—"

"I'm quite interested in what you have to say." He adressed you by your last name again, shutting his briefcase closed with a chilling click. "After all, I have written some papers on this exact subject."

You know. You had read them in your search for more information on the Scarecrow's toxin.

"I'll keep that in mind, professor." You glanced at the doorway, wondering if it would be unacceptable to make a dash for it. You didn't want to be late for work any more than you were already. And if you were being honest this conversation had taken a turn you weren't prepared for.

By some grace of god he let the conversation drop. Not caring to spare another glance at him, you took to the door, planning out the route home in your head.

If he watched you go, you didn't notice. It wasn't until you had gotten home in your stained work uniform, beat up trainers grayed with labor, that you noticed your folder for his class was missing.

"Shit." You dragged a tired hand down your face, kicking off your socks as you lay next to the spread out compartments of your backpack.

You sighed. Looks like you'd be seeing Doctor Crane again sooner than you thought.

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coralinnii · 1 year

Note

Is it okay to ask for riddle isekaid villainess part 2? You can ignore if you want^^

"If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice"

feat: Riddle

genre: romance

note: sequel to “being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy”, roughly 1.2k word count,

series masterlist

y'all really requested it, I'm here for it tho cuz yes to Riddle <3 There's a request for a fluffier Riddle fic so stay tune for that.

Since your imprisonment, Riddle has been trying to appeal for your release ever since, but his mother was adamant in her decision. So, Riddle instead made it his goal to convince his mother for him to inherit the throne as soon as possible so that he could revoke your sentence and you could return to the kingdom, and to him.

Thus, he worked to prove himself to his mother. He led conquests of other lands to expand the Rosehearts reign. He busied himself in establishing trading routes with other kingdoms, increasing the flow of valuable materials and talented individuals coming into the kingdom. Through his efforts, the kingdom became bigger and richer.

He was an unbending force that yielded to no one, not even to his own mother as he kept pushing to create a utopia of a kingdom and prove himself a worthy ruler. He needed to be the perfect emperor and to an extent he succeeded as he was an amazing leader with keen senses and foresight but he can come across as somewhat tyrannical to others due to his lack of sympathy for others who delayed his plans.

He couldn’t afford incompetence and laziness. If others cannot perform to his expectations, how can he inherit the throne at this rate and have you waiting longer.

The final push to his already short patience was when he received your last letter. You were planning to escape from your tower, and he may never see you again. He made you wait too long and you planned to disappear, likely lead a new life, meet new people... find someone to love and marry...

In desperation, Riddle marched to his mother in the throne room with his army and the nobility on his side, demanding that she step down. Without a reason against it, the royal power has switched and Riddle was the official king. His first order was for his men to bring you to the palace.

“Well, that explained the lack of letters, I supposed” you murmur as you walked down the halls of the palace, your new home. You questioned the legitimacy of Chenya’s words when he mentioned how busy Riddle had been, but you realized he truly wasn’t exaggerating.

You thought about softening Riddle’s rule, but the situation was trickier than you expected as Riddle’s actions teeter between tyranny and necessary as his laws were for the greater good, if not a little strict.

“No! It is unacceptable!” your train of thought was disrupted as you heard a familiar voice coming from one of the larger rooms, you recognized it as the kitchen. “Common etiquette dictates that tea is served after 2 minutes has passed after being steeped in water heated at 325 degrees, letting it cool. You have ruined this batch of tea with your incompetence!”

Today, he happens to be in a tyrannical mood.

You cautiously walked in and saw a precarious situation. Riddle was the center of the commotion, angrily reprimanding a young woman you assumed was a new maid who was hysterically apologizing again and again to your husband.

“I’m sorry, your highness!” the maid cried, kneeling before Riddle with her hands on the floor and head down, her tears dripping endlessly.

“Do you intend to harm the royal family, serving my beloved with this disgusting, boiling mess? Leave this palace at once!” Riddle furiously yelled to which the maid further sobbed in apology. Working in the imperial palace is the highest honor but being fired from the royal family is akin to social annihilation as no other family would dare to hire such a worker. Your heart went out to the poor woman.

“Riddle?” your voice catches Riddle’s attention and he turned to see you by the door.

“Rosie” he whispered which made you shy at first, having others know that old nickname is a little embarrassing. Nonetheless, you continued to walk towards him.

“Isn’t this too harsh? It seems to be an honest mistake” you defended the woman, but Riddle was firm in his stance.

“You cannot be serious” Riddle sighed. “Anyone associated with high society knows this basic practice. How can you be so forgiving?”

“Because…I don’t know it”

Silence filled the room as Riddle stared at you while you continued to confess your incompetence, as Riddle would put it.

“I don’t know the right temperature to steep tea. I can't tell what's good tea or bad tea, hot or cold” you profess your ignorance, a little ashamed. You started your training as a future member of the royal family at a young age but when you were sent into your tower, you were cut off from social interaction and obligations. You restarted your etiquette training but with everyone comparing you to the prodigy that is your husband, you understand how disheartening criticisms can be.

You reach out to clasp Riddle’s hands which seems to have a calming effect as his reddening face cooled down, although a faded blush was still present.

“People have their own pace to perfect something, Riddle. Us included” you said as you softly rubbed Riddle’s knuckles in a soothing manner. “I think we should give people the chance to learn and redeemed themselves. What do you say?”

Riddle let out a sigh before turning to the maid kneeling down before him. His stare was piercing, like a sharp sword cutting through one's soul.

“You have one more chance” he declares sternly. “If you fail to improve yourself, consider your time here over”

You felt relieved, grateful that your childhood friend is still willing to listen to others, a sign that he could change for the better, away from the original story. Seeing your smile brought out a subtle one on Riddle’s lips as he revels in your soft hold, in bliss to be in your warm presence after so long. He was in such a hurry to gain the throne that he would strike down those that stand between his goal, but with you finally standing beside him, his mad need for perfection seems less insistent.

The new servants, however, were astonished. Seeing their ruthless master known for his temper and unforgiving nature, rescind his order. The servants thought what an odd couple you two were but were grateful for your intervention regardless.

— Bonus —

“How can you still not remember proper tea etiquette?” Riddle gently reprimands you, though he recalls how nonchalant you were with your lessons even during your younger years “You need to start taking your lessons more seriously and not just skim through the books”

“You know me too well, Riddy” You giggled despite his scolding, before looking at him teasingly “You could always teach me, you know? We can make it a special lesson, just the two of us”

Riddle’s face flushed red at the idea, imagining a whole session with just him and you without the intervention of his advisors or your guards, especially those two new rookie knights that has gotten close to you lately. It would be just him that holds your attention, only he would hold your gaze as you smile and laugh with him, perhaps even sharing treats with him along with your tea.

“Hmph, I suppose if you need someone who can show you proper technique, I could find the time for it”

You let out a laugh as you thanked him, not noticing the flabbergasted looks of your audience. The older servants who knew your relationship with Riddle are not the most surprised by Riddle's leniency with you but for others...

"Your highness...making tea..."

"Pinch me...I must be dreaming"

"That tyrannical maniac...is blushing?!"

You have your work cut out for you but nobody else has sway with Riddle as you do.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #villainess au #twst

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ghostking4m · 6 days

Text

Rejection Is Just Redirection

Luke Hughes x reader

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

Listen, you didn’t really need college. You broke into the entertainment industry at 16, so college was just a plan b you put on the back burner. Being one of the most famous names and faces in the entire world, you easily had enough money to afford college, so why not give it a shot? After all, your boyfriend went to college, though he did kind of drop out to play hockey.

Once you made up your mind that you’d be going back to school, your next step what choosing your major and what schools to apply to. You write songs and sometimes write poems and books, so maybe English or journalism? Maybe Communications would help you answer some of the dodgy questions the paparazzi ask you. Heck, even political science or economics or business would be a good idea. They would allow you to make a difference in the world. Business sounds like a safe choice. You could do a lot with a business degree. Now to apply to schools.

So here’s the thing, you’re finally in a real relationship that you really don’t want to mess up. Staying in LA would allow you to go to school and continue working, so you could still be in the limelight when you want to be. USC and UCLA would be great choices for that and they’re extremely accredited schools. However, maybe Rutgers is the school you should choose, since it’s close to Luke. NYU might even be an interesting choice since it wouldn’t raise too many questions if you’re going to school in the city because you want to or if it’s because you want to be closer to your boyfriend. It has always been your dream school when you were a kid. Well, it’s decided then!

You honestly weren’t expecting the application and admissions process to be so complicated and grueling. It’s like the education system is trying to torture kids to see who would come out on top as the victor. College really is like the Hunger Games, isn’t it? You hadn’t the slightest idea of how to fill out your major requirement classes or send your high school transcript to the admissions office and your essays were mid at best. You’re a celebrity, it’s not like you needed to try all that hard to graduate high school since you did homeschooling since you were 16. Though, you gotta admit that the feeling of finally being done with the application process was a relief. It’s just a waiting game now for admissions decisions.

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

“T-minus 2 hours until decisions come out. You nervous?” Luke asked as you guys were laying on the couch before he had to go to practice.

“A little, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t get in. I mean, i’ve already got my career, so why would I worry about getting in so that I could work more to get a degree that would allow me to work even more? Why did i do this again?” you questioned back, joking with him. “If I don’t get in, I’ll just grab my bag and go back to LA and star in the highest grossing movie of the decade… again”

Luke laughed at your comment, despite hearing the quiet hesitation in your voice. He didn’t realize how much you actually wanted to get in. He didn’t know how much you wanted to prove that you’re more than just some face in gossip magazines or the most talked about name in the headlines. You wanted to be seen and treated like a person, someone who people respected because you worked just as hard as they did to get to the same place as them. You always advocated for equality for everyone and yet people always worshipped you and put you on a pedestal.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he countered.

“I’m not sure yet. Part of me regrets applying, because I don’t want to get in for nepotism or for being famous, but I also want to get in, because I want to make everyone proud of me.” You replied.

It broke Luke’s heart a little to hear you talk about this in the way you are, because how could anyone not be proud of you and what you accomplished at such a young age? You had 6 Oscars, 4 Emmys, the most nominations at the Grammy’s this year, and you were named the most powerful person of the year by Time Magazine, Forbes Magazine, AND Vogue. You were a sensation that was still only just beginning. You had the entire world eating in the lam of your hand.

“Well, no matter what happens, I’m proud of you for trying. You don’t need college, but I applaud your efforts anyway. You could honestly be anything you want, be anyone you want, all you have to do is try and not everyone can do that.” He said, and his heart absolutely MELTED at the tiny smile you tried to hide by hiding your face further in his chest.

He heard you mumble the most adorable, embarrassed “Thanks” from his chest and he couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s not think about it for a while, please?” you asked, politely.

“Ok. We can just rewatch the movie where you play a real life version of one of the most famous dolls in the world.” He says, purposefully teasing you!!

“Oh God.” You laughed out.

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

You held your breath as you opened the email concealing your admissions decisions. It felt as if the world was telling everyone to be quiet and listen.

“I got it.” You whispered as quietly as possible.

“You got in?!” Luke shouted, jumping nearly 7 feet high as he got up to look at you.

“No. I got the email that says if I got in or not.” You answered.

“Oh. Sorry for freaking out.” He looks away, slightly embarrassed. You give him a small look and smile full of adoration before turning back to your phone.

“Here goes nothing.” You say as you click on the email. “What? I don’t get it? Oh! I have to log into the admissions portal in order to see the decision.”

You click on the portal login link and enter your login id username and password, fingers slightly trembling with anticipation. Hesitantly, you click on the link that states “An update has been made about your decision.”

Taking a deep breath, you read a letter that says:

“Dear Y/n, Thank you for applying to New York University. We are humbled by the overwhelming interest in attending NYU and the outstanding quality of the applications we received this year. After careful consideration and thorough examination, it is with regret we must inform you were are unable to offer you admission for the Fall 2024 semester.”

“I didn’t get in.” You confessed barely loud enough for a mouse to hear.

Instantly, Luke had his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, fiercely protective. You were so disappointed that you weren’t even crying, almost as if you were expecting to be rejected.

“Whatever. Fuck them anyway. They didn’t deserve you to begin with. You belong somewhere like UMich or in an Ivy League school. You’re too good for them.” He tries to reassure you. “Look at it this way, you can continue doing what you love most and stay here with me. In the end, you learned something.”

“And what’s that?” you questioned him.

“Rejection is just redirection, that’s all. College wasn’t in the cards for you and life thinks you’re better off in the spotlight, making more money in a single year than those lousy admissions officers make in their entire lives. You were meant to be somebody great. You ARE somebody great and you’re becoming somebody even more perfect than I ever thought possible.”

His words struck a chord in your heart so deeply that you couldn’t help but hold on to him for dear life. You felt your eyes begin to prick with tears. As the first one fell out of your right eye, you knew automatically that they were tears of joy. Your heart swelled with pride and love for Luke as you laughed into his chest.

“Yeah. Fuck them. I don’t need them. I’m a star! You’re all I need.” You teased back. Deep down, you were incredibly disappointed, but Luke’s words of affirmation and love meant more to you than the rejection letter did. Nothing could beat that.

“That’s right, baby.” He laughed as he tighten his grip over you. He gently kissed the top of your head and repeated quiet “I love you’s” for at least 10 minutes.

“What time is it?” You asked.

“It’s…5:30.” He responded gently leaning over to turn on his phone to check. “Oh Shit! I’m gonna be late!”

“Go! Go! Go!” You laughed at him.

God, this boy. You thought, shaking your head. That’s MY boy.

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uneducated-author · 8 months

Text

I was thinking about Double Black (when do I stop) and realise that something has been bothering me about Chapter 109 (Ya Think?!)

There's one line that doesn't fit, and it isn't the one about 'fate' because Dazai is constantly shown as believing in fate, nor is it the one about Soukoku's destiny, because Dazai believes in that more than anyone.

It's the one about Chuuya's 'lame ass' punches.

Okay I hear the judgy silence.

Because the thing is, Chuuya is the strongest fighter in the series. Soukoku as designed as a duo comprising of the strongest fighter alongside the smartest tactician. And Dazai might be petty about Chuuya, calling him predictable, short, a puppy, easily led, he doesn't really call him weak. The closest I can think of is in the 15 story, where Dazai points out that Chuuya's raw power has been limited, because the boy hasn't learned to fight strategically in any sort of cunning manner. But even then, that's wholly different to calling Chuuya weak.

And this is a running theme. For instance, think of the Double Black reunion. Dazai meets Chuuya, insults his tacky hats and then Chuuya demands to fight Dazai, crush him along with his schemes.

The reason the reunion scene works so well is because of how balanced it is. There are two fights. One is physical, and the other a battle of information and who has access to it.

First, Chuuya initiates a physical attack, of which Dazai mainly dodges, with one strike towards Chuuya's abdomen which Chuuya basically discounts as weak. Then Chuuya brutally beats Dazai up. Whether Dazai is truly using his full fighting capabilities is debatable, but the real importance is in the dialogue. Dazai's initial statement is actually crediting Chuuya, unabashedly labelling him the greatest martial artist in the Port Mafia. There's no room for doubt here, Dazai is speaking an honest truth. Chuuya internally notes that Dazai is reading his attacks well but Dazai's next observance is all about how predictable Chuuya is, to Dazai specifically. He says that he can read all of Chuuya's movements, as he should be able to, as Chuuya's partner. Chuuya counters by saying that 'you can't beat me just by predicting my moves'.

The fight then pauses the physical element, instead diverting to information. Dazai's a living dead mans trigger, where his death will bring down the port mafia, but the way he has set it up is by giving the current executives information on the leverage he holds against the organisation. It's a plan which is purely suited to Dazai's capabilities and goals, Chuuya even notes that he has a no-win scenario here, and both decisions are hard to make.

Dazai is the victor ultimately, but it's surprisingly balanced. Chuuya won the physical fight, but Dazai gets the information he wanted. On the other hand, Chuuya and Dazai both prove how well they know each other, with Dazai's bragging about knowing Chuuya to the highest degree, and Chuuya knowing immediately that Dazai has some ulterior motive, stating almost immediately that 'you can fool Akutagawa and the rest of the Port Mafia, but not Me'.

Later in the fight to save Q they almost parallel this moment. Chuuya takes a swipe at Dazai with his foot after Dazai makes a quip about his shoes, and Dazai smugly notes that he should give up trying to attack because Dazai knows him so well and can read his attack. Chuuya doesn't refute the statement fully, merely countering that if Chuuya had been attacking at full strength he could destroy Dazai.

Soukoku is special because of the disparate capabilities. But there's something else too.

Dazai doesn't lie. Well, this is a fake statement. More accurately, Dazai doesn't bluff. Dazai bluffs and manipulates and only reveals selected informations to force an incorrect statement, but he has clear strategies to manipulate someone.

Even when Dazai manipulates the Sheep into betraying Chuuya, to expose how fickle the group is, he does it without any hidden tricks. The glory of the scheme is that Chuuya is Right There, and he can piece together how exactly Dazai fooled him in hindsight. Dazai's greatest manipulations are ones where previous conversations click into sharp contrast, and your realise just how badly you were played. He might fake being captured, or hide his motivations, but he very rarely tells truths that can be very easily disputed. Fyodor, Dazai's foil, pulls off a similar sort of strategy when stuck with Ace actually.

Dazai says it best. 'I don't lie in these types of negotiations'. He knows that the best negotiation position is the one where you are in complete control of the circumstances and information available.

So... Why provoke Chuuya with something like this? Both previous times his statements are about Chuuya's 'tacky hats' or a snide comment about 'liking your taste in shoes-just kidding!' and those provoke a physical fight just fine?

Well, look at Chuuya's responses, every time. Dazai points out how he, and he alone is immune to Chuuya, for all his power, and Chuuya always responds with some variation of 'if I was serious I could crush you' and 'reading my movements won't help you win an actual fight'.

Chuuya is a weapon. Was burned, cut and moulded into one, and the worst thing is that it is so bluntly clear. He is known for his power, and nobody can deny the clear and obvious superiority he has over pretty much every other fighter. And Dazai can't refute this. But he can refute that Chuuya is harmful. That Chuuya can hurt Him. He can say, bluntly and clearly, that I am never at risk from you. And Chuuya can try and discount it, thinking of an out of control force of nature help back by two lines of poetry, but Dazai stays firm. That you are powerful, and that means nothing to me. That I know you well enough, and that makes me invulnerable against you.

Dazai for the first time bluffs. Knowing that Chuuya is trapped inside a body that he can't control, a situation beyond his worse nightmare. And Dazai has to trust. But if all goes wrong, he needs to make sure Chuuya can survive this, killing his partner in the way they never feared. He's never wanted to survive this prison arch, has been devoted to merely killing Dostoyevsky.

(It puts Chapter 101 into perspective. Dazai must have known that Dostoyevsky's escape was possible, has known what it is to fight alongside a gravity manipulator. So he says goodbye to Chuuya, because Dazai might be dead soon, and that doesn't matter, but Chuuya once made him interested to live, and that means he should know.)

So he talks to Chuuya, and tells him that it isn't him. This isn't the strongest martial artist in the port mafia. This isn't his partner, this isn't the short dog with bad fashion sense. This is someone who's on the opposite side, a terrible fighter, who can't even aim properly.

This is the only comfort he can offer. This is the only way he can't give up. He tells Chuuya 'you are strong' and he tells Chuuya 'I know you' and he tells the corpse with the mask of his partners face stretched over a strangers skull that 'you are weak'.

When Odasaku had died, in his final moments he had seen who Dazai could be. As Dazai dies in his final moments, he looks up and tells his partner that this isn't him.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #soukoku #bsd #bsd meta

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year

Text

When you wipe away their kiss

Aegon:

Literally pouts as he watches you wipe off any and all kisses he gives you.

Gets petty and crosses his arms while saying he's fine and doesn't care (hates it when Aemond teases him about it).

Tries time and time again to give you kisses and whines when you keep wiping them off until you say it was a joke.

Aemond:

Get simply curious and tries to question you about it only to be met with a shrug from you.

Tries a few more times, but if you keep wiping them off, he'll stop trying and start overthinking instead.

Waits until you tell him it's a joke but will make you give him kisses first to prove it.

Jacaerys:

He gives you a hurt puppy look as he watches you wipe away his love wondering why you would do such a thing.

Questions and pesters you about it and tries to give you small kisses again but stops with a pout.

He goes about his business, then when you tell him it was a joke, he immediately gives you several kisses to make up for lost time.

Lucerys:

Continues to try giving you kisses but laughs as he sees you still wiping them off.

Questions it and wipes off any kisses you give him as a payback.

He refuses to give you any more kisses and will continue to wipe off any of the kisses you give him until he deems it's over.

Rhaenyra:

Rolls her eyes and affectionately makes fun of you as she notices you wiping away her kisses.

Choosing to let you do as you please but only tries a few more times before giving in and stopping.

Holds you in place once she hears it is a joke and places everywhere on your face with a smile happy to give you kisses.

Daemon:

Becomes petty to the highest degree about this and either holds your wrists or walks away muttering to himself.

Gives you nothing but sass each time he tries to kiss you and watches you wipe it off and will even scoff.

Still being petty he sits around having you give him kisses and watch him wipe them away and will continue until you pout about it.

Alicent:

Does the thing where relatives hold your face in a tight grip in their hands not to hurt you but to hold you still as she presses kisses into your face.

Acts hurt as you wipe all kisses away but will give you different affection and waits until you ask for a kiss.

Furious that you would think it's funny to play her like that and refuses to give you any reaction to it unless you really push about it.

Helena:

Nearly cries as she watches you wipe away her kiss thinking she's done something wrong.

Gives you any personal space she thinks you need if you keep wiping kisses away and tries to busy herself.

Does actually cry a little when she's told it's a joke and watches carefully as she gives you gentle kisses making sure you won't do it again before jumping in place to give you even more kisses.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #helena targaryen x reader #house of the dragon hc #house of the dragon headcanon #house of the dragon

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bmbochangetales · 1 year

Text

Orgasms just hit better when your dumb.

It was one line and yet it bothered her. It couldn’t be true. She enjoyed her orgasms and she was highly intelligent. She had to test the theory. But how? It had to be measured in a way that she could tell the difference. She had to make herself dumber so she could feel which orgasm was better. How to make her self dumber though?

She rushed in and ask her male co workers.

“Not showing off her degrees. Smart girls want to prove they are smart. They hang them like art work. Have some sexy pictures or some basic mass produced artwork ”

Down all her hard work came off the wall. Up went something from the local store. The night she hit a new high in orgasming. This has to be a fluke, so she asked again the next day.

“Lots of make up and bleached hair.” One commented well checking the stocks. “They always turn out to be ditzy, even if they try to come off as intelligent and well educated. You do that to you hair, you definitely aren’t the smartest and add a lot of make up, you spend a lot of time just fixing yourself up, that’s not time to study.”

She booked an appointment at a salon for that evening. Well her hair was done she watched make up tutorials learning how to emphasize her features. Seeing herself with her new blonde hair even she thought she looked a bit more empty headed. Very cute but maybe not all there. She tested her skills at the make up when she got home. Sultry and it took a while to do, it was nearly bed time, she’d have no time to read. But she had time for two orgasms. It was only because the first one was so fast. It was just so good that she had to do it again just to make sure.

“Just by looking at a girl, what makes you think she is dumb?”

“I mean I know people will yell at me, but when she has for a huge set of boobs, especially if she is showing them off, she is probably not the brightest bulb in the house. It’s hot anyways”

Vacation boobs. A few injections and she would have a temporary set to help her experiment. She would get rid of them later. She walked out of the doctor’s office with a new huge rack on display. She loved the stares she got. She had spent 3 hours getting ready this morning with an extra 30 minutes to masturbate before she left. Now she was ready to see if sex with a partner was better. She called her favorite FWB. He commented on her new look

“I’m trying to look dumb for an experiment, what makes a girl look dumb?”

“Girls who look in the mirror a lot and watch reality tv. They look so dumb.” He added as you went down to start round two wanting another great orgasm.

Three days of having these tits and fucking a ton of guys. She had been watching only reality tv and was having trouble spelling. She began dressing like the girls on TV. Her boss threatened to denote her if her work didn’t improve. But the orgasms were just so good. They kept getting better. There was something here, she knew it.

She was staring at herself in the mirror. Big but not big enough. She wanted them to be huge. Bigger is so better when it comes to tits. Just 3 or 4 more cup sizes. She’d look so dumb then. She scanned her body down. Maybe she needed some other improvements.

Like this ass needs some nice high shoes to make it even better. She quickly went to the nearest shoe store and purchased several pairs making sure to get all the highest heels to emphasize her body.

Oh yea, like the expiri…expuri…like that idea thingy test. That like means it’s totally time to get fucked! Fucking is like sooo much fun! She had to find some partners. She strut into the nearest club and found a couple who were interested in going home with her.

The red head under her and the body builder with his cock deep in her cunt fucking her from behind. Oh yeah this was the life. Being sexy and just finding partners to fuck. Lapping up the beautiful girls cunt as she came on her tongue over and over. Having a cock ducking her deep and filling her with the best cum. Now that her IQ was down even more, this orgasm would be earth shattering. Maybe she could still get dumber yet.

#my writing #my story #dumbification #bimboification #dumbing down

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lxclerc · 2 years

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐬𝟒𝟕

SUMMARY: in which staying away was impossible REQUEST: ‘can you do anything for mick pls there’s barely any content for him and i need more’ and ‘mick ansgt please??’ PAIRING: mick schumacher x reader WARNING: angst to fluff, some slight cursing WORD COUNT: 1.8k

NOTE: let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

masterlist

Loving Mick was never part of your plans. You’re determined to prove yourself from anyone who ever doubted you, determined to prove that you aren’t just a pretty doll meant to look pretty on a shelf, but from the moment you met him, there’s something tragic about him that drew you close, seeing yourself in his eyes and feeling like you’re home.

You were never into blondes and you were never meant to fall for his shy smiles and the way he seems so hesitant in meeting your eyes. You were never meant to feel so safe and cared for in his presence but most of all, you were never meant to be just friends.

From the first day you met him, there’s always been something between the two of you. His eyes often lingered on your lips, his touch lingering on your skin a few seconds too long. You were never meant to be just friends. You were always meant to be more but for some reason, you stayed as friends.

Maybe it was the comfort you brought each other, the intimacy you always shared. Was it the bond and the love and the feeling of being so understood from one simple shared glance? Whatever it was, the two of you were terrified to lose it and so you stayed friends.

Friends who often lay side by side as you whisper secrets at the dead of the night, hands entwined. Friends who say they’re dating other people as though it’s a mistake, as though it’s an apology, a plea for help. Friends. Best friends. Soulmates maybe.

Most of the time, it’s you he has to stay up for, waiting for a text as you drink with friends, always pushing yourself past your limit just to prove something because you always have to prove something, always have to be proving yourself.

During your schooling years, you get the highest grades just to prove that you can. In university, you enroll in the hardest degree just to prove that you can finish it. When you drink, you always down more shots than anyone just to prove that you can. You flirt with guys and take them home because you can. You don’t kiss Mick silly no matter how badly you want to do so to prove that you can.

You can not love him. You can live without him. You can go about your day knowing some other girl has her lips on his skin. And you can pretend that it’s not all lies.

You can do anything you set your mind to. That must be why you’ve been ignoring his calls the past few weeks, trying to prove to yourself that you don’t need him, that you can ignore him. Mick knows you a little too well.

And maybe you can live without him. Maybe you can survive without him but Mick isn’t as good of a liar as you are. Unlike you, he doesn’t spend all his time pretending as though there’s not an invisible string tying you two together. He’s never been good at pretending, definitely nowhere as good as you are.

And that’s definitely why he’s out drinking despite the fact that he absolutely hates the taste of alcohol. It’s why he can’t stand opening any social media because he knows he’ll see your smiling face, some guy’s arm around you.

So yes, usually it’s you calling drunk in the middle of the night and Mick getting up at three in the morning to pick you up. Yes, it’s usually you who pushes everything way past the limit but Mick had tried playing your game for weeks now. He tried pretending that he, too, can live without you. He tried pretending that he doesn’t need you or that he doesn’t compare every woman he meets to you but the sad, bitter truth is that he can’t.

And even he has a breaking point. Even he, a man who’s spent his life doing exactly what’s expected of him with such grace and such kind smile, reaches a point of no return.

That must be why he’s calling you, half expecting it to go to voicemail like his past calls have been and half wishing it would just to save himself the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of you.

Being vulnerable in front of each other never used to be a problem till you had to prove that you don’t need him.

But alas, you answer your phone.

“Hallo,” you say on the other side, your voice soft with sleep and barely a whisper and Mick has to take a deep breath because fucking hell he missed your voice.

There’s silence on his part as he tries to compose whatever is left of him that he can. Because he’s Mick Schumacher. He was never meant to be the type of guy who gets drunk to pour their heart out. He’s meant to be a boy next door, the one who smiles at you as you pass each other in the hallway. He was never meant to be such a mess.

But you’re a mess. Wasn’t that one of the first few things you told him? You’re a mess with the constant need to be better than everyone at everything, the constant need to be the kind of girl that would have heads turning. You’re a mess because despite spending the rest of your life trying to prove a point, trying to prove that you’re different, the truth is that you’re just like everyone else. You’re just another woman desperately trying to be worthy of love and attention.

You’re a mess and now you’ve turned him into one too.

“Y/N,” he said finally, whispering despite the fact that he’s alone in a dark, empty room. He doesn’t know where he is. He stopped caring a few hours ago. Maybe in some girl’s apartment. Mick was never meant to be the type of guy who goes home with a stranger but anything to forget you, anything to remember you.

“Mick?” Your voice is much clearer now and you immediately know that something’s wrong. You always do. You may be good at pretending, you may be good at pretending that you’re able to spend your days without him lingering at the back of your mind but you can’t deny an absolute truth. You’re one half of a soul, him carrying the other half. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know where I am,” he admits because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I don’t know how to get home.”

And there it was again. The very first thing that drew you to Mick. There’s something broken inside him. How could a man like him, born so privileged and loved, ever know tragedy? But here’s the truth, inside him remains that lost and helpless fourteen year old the moment he lost his father. He carries his pain wherever he goes. He carries his grief like it’s second skin.

And god, you can never let him go no matter how hard you try and so you pull yourself up, slipping on a jacket as you grab your keys. “Are you drunk? Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

“Yes,” he says, answering your first question. “I was with a girl I met in the club. I think I went home with her.”

You suck in a breath, trying to ignore the mental image of Mick, your Mick, dancing with some girl in a club then deciding to go home with her, but isn’t this what you planned when you pulled away from him? You can’t have him. For some reason, you’re never able to. Just as you’re ready to confess, he’s in a relationship. Just as he starts treating you as more than a friend, you’re with another guy. Until eventually, you learned to accept that maybe you and him just don’t work.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were never meant to be together after all. What an idiot you’ve been.

“Send me your location,” you say finally, entering your car. And maybe you were never meant to be together as couples but god knows you can’t stay away for too long. For once in your life, you finally found something you aren’t good at, something you can’t be right at.

He may have called first but you knew in a day or two, you would have lost all of your self preservation and come crawling to him.

You may have broken a few laws as you rushed to the location Mick sent, not bothering to stop at red lights seeing as the road seems to be completely vacant. When you park outside the building, Mick is already there, sitting on the curb with his head on his knees. His clothes are rumpled and his hair messy.

You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him as soon as he’s within your reach, kneeling before him. When he looked up at you, you noticed the alcohol induced fog in his eyes.

“Ich kann es nicht tun,” he said, voice shaky. “Ich kann mich nicht verstellen. Ich kann nicht wegbleiben.” I can’t do it…I can’t pretend. I can’t stay away.

Your heart breaks as you realize that you’re the one to put the two of you in this position. All of this is your doing. Your pride and your ego is the one to blame. You wipe the tears falling from your eyes. You hate seeing him like this, so broken and so lost and the fact that you know that you’re the cause of it makes you want to punish yourself.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” you said finally. “Let’s get you to bed first.”

But just as you move to help him up, Mick pulls at your wrist, pulling you down to his lap as his arms snaked around you. The scent of alcohol and some girl’s perfume attacked your senses and you hate that he doesn’t smell like your Mick but his touch is engraved in your mind and you feel your body relax against his hold.

“Just…” he breathes out, burying his face against your neck as his arms around you tighten. “Just stay here for a moment. Stay with me for a moment please.”

You swallow as you adjust yourself so you’re facing him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The two of you must look so stupid sitting on a curb, so tightly wrapped around each other but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The truth is that the two of you can never stay away. You were meant to love him just as you were meant to be his.

“I’m here,” you say. “I’m never going away again.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson

#f1 #formula 1 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher angst #formula 1 one shot #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher smut #formula 1 fanfic #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfic

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reallyromealone · 2 years

Note

Hi I'm a huge fan. I absolutely love your writing. I was wondering if I could request an OHSHC where the host club meet Haruhi's twin brother whose an Omega and he's Kyoya's fiancee? He's my favorite host thank you! If you can't do it that's okay.

Oh that's so sweet thank you!

I will do my best

When Kyoya met (name) at the mall he was smitten by the commoners twin, the prettiest Omega he'd ever had the pleasure to see.

Haruhi knew from the get go that the two had begun courting, kyoya having gone to the brunette beta for ideas and (name) was more than happy with the scented nesting materials along with the other gifts as the Alpha wanted to prove that he could care for (name), earning the approval from Ryoji to continue seeing the omega.

It wasn't a surprise to the fujioka family that the following year Kyoya proposed to (name), an elegant ring and an even prettier collar to match.

"So when are you gonna tell the club?" Haruhi asked the black haired 3rd year who made a noise "when I know these hooligans can behave enough to not startle him" that was bullshit to the highest degree, the shorter brunette knowing Kyoya just didn't want to share his Omega with anyone else knowing the social butterfly that (name) was... But Kyoya didn't want their meeting to be at their wedding so better to rip the bandaid off now.

The following week haruhi led her darling brother through the halls of Ouran, students staring at the pretty omega in awe and who could blame them? He was the prettiest thing to step into this school.

"I'm so excited to meet your friends, I'm a little annoyed I didn't get to see them when they came over"

"Trust me you didn't miss much" haruhi joked as they opened the door to the music room, poor (name) slightly blinded as he was hit by rose petals.

"Oh? Whose this beautiful rose?" Tamaki asked waltzing up to (name) and went to kiss his hand "my brother, please get off him" haruhi said monotonous as she stared down Tamaki, feeling protective of her little brother as Kyoya stepped in to see his future mate and watched (name) visibly perk up at the sight of the other "ah mommy, come meet haruhis brother!" Tamaki exclaimed loudly and (name) mouthed to his sister "mommy?" And she just shrugged and mouthed "don't worry about it"

"You two finally made it" Kyoya was calm and collected as (name) made a small chirping noise and went to his alpha, Kyoya looking happy at the omegas actions as the host club save for Haruhi (and hunny and Mori as they graduated) looked confused at this display "what...what's going on here" Hikaru asked pointing between the two and Kyoya sighed slightly "everyone, this is my fiancé" he said almost begrudgingly as Tamaki proceeded to loose his mind over this information "WHAT?! SINCE WHEN?! YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME MOMMY?!" Tamaki was practically hysterical as he pointed between the two "HARUHI DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!"

"Well yeah, Kyoya came to our dad and I asking for our blessing to court and ask for his hand" Haruhi stated simply "he's been over for dinner almost weekly, who do you think has been making Kyoya those cute lunches" she glanced to the twins as Kaoru was texting no doubt Mori and hunny the gossip, (name)s Omega classes kicking in as he offered a sweet smile and bowed politely to the group "it's a pleasure to meet Kyoya and Haruhi's friends, I have heard wonderful things about all of you!" (Name)s voice was genuine as he charmed the room but strong and confident.

"Now whats this about cheating?" (Name) asked seriously and looked at his Alpha expectantly who in turn glared at Tamaki "there's no cheating my beloved, Tamaki just speaks out of his ass sometimes" Kyoya said bluntly, ignoring Tamaki withering away at the cruel words that came from his best friend and (name) seemed satisfied with his answer "I apologize for not getting a chance to see you all last year when you came to visit, I was caught up with Omega classes"

"Omega classes?" Hikaru asked curiously and (name) nodded "yeah, it's classes all omegas have to take to learn homemaking, baby rearing and various other things" (name) said like it was common knowledge but the three alphas looked confused "do you guys not have those?"

"Omegas at Ouran attend Omega classes, it's just not talked about much" Kyoya supplied helpfully and (name) nodded slowly at this.

Eventually the group sat down and (name) preened as kyoyas hand rested around his waist protectively, the Alpha proudly flaunting his mate to be.

The host club warmed up to (name) quickly, the Omega did bristle slightly when Tamaki tried using his host club charm on him, the blond finding it fascinating at Kyoyas subtle possessiveness when he pulled (name) closer.

Haruhi ended up staying behind after the meeting to go work on a project with a classmate, the Alpha-omega pair sitting in Kyoyas limo as they spoke softly "your friends are nice" (name) mumbled, drained from socializing with such high energy people as Kyoya kissed him gently "thank you for meeting them" Kyoya said softly, admiring his beloveds sweet expression "do you wish to stay at my home tonight?" Kyoya asked the omega who purred at the idea of being surrounded by his alphas scent.

Thankfully (name)s dad trusted Kyoya fully with his baby boy, most definitely going to allow this.

"Nest?"

"Hasn't moved since your last visit"

"Good..."

#ohshc x male reader #ohshc x reader #kyoya x male reader #kyoya x reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

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forbidden-sunlight · 10 months

Text

yandere!kusuriuri with chise!reader headcanons

Warnings: obsessive behavior, violence, and blood.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the ‘back’ button on your computer device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hello everyone and welcome to the first part in this 2-3 part series, featuring the beloved Medicine Seller of the classic anime horror series, Mononoke, and the character!reader who is Chise Hatori from the fantastic world of The Ancient Magus Bride.

I’d to give a shout-out to @saltyfruitbat and @enryegotrip for their feedback and help with some of the parts I had difficulty writing! :) Thank you guys, you are awesome!

So without being said, sit back, relax, and let’s dive into this world of magic and madness :)

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART ONE: A FOX’S BLESSING

Inari-sama loved all of his children.

Kusuriuri knew and respected him as both his creator and the god of foxes, patron of merchants and swordsmiths. Yet for all of his daily prayers and offerings he had placed in his creator’s temples as he journey across the country slaying Mononoke, his patron was displeased with him. Inari-sama had offered him a reward for all the good deeds he had performed in this realm as a zenko every time he came to visit, and every time he refused. Kusuriuri did not need or want anything. Hearing Inari-sama’s words of gratitude is a reward in itself. His patron is unconvinced, however.

Inari-sama took a leaf from Benzaiten-sama’s scroll and decided that such a hard working child should have a companion to accompany him on his travels, someone to share his burdens and trials and accomplishments. In Kusuriuri’s case, he deserved to have a bride. Kusuriuri most certainly did not want or deserve a bride because slaying Mononoke is his only mission and purpose. Refusing his patron’s generosity, however, is an insult of the highest degree, equivalent to vandalizing any of his temples or blatantly denying his very existence.

And so Kusuriuri was left with little choice but to graciously accept Inari-sama’s gift…if he is permitted to test any potential candidate to prove their worthiness. Inari-sama accepted his request, but told him not to take too long in finding his bride and not to make the test too difficult. Kusuriuri promised, vowing to keep his word.

Yet as the days stretched to weeks to months to years, Kusuriuri met many candidates….but none of them passed his test. Just when the country entered the Meiji Restoration era, Inari-sama visited him again in a newly constructed temple, an extension of the main one, the Toyokawa Inari Temple, lined with thousands of statues built in his creator’s likeness and surrounded by trees. The serenity almost made Kusuriuri forget that the roads were no longer made from dirt and overgrown weeds, but from asphalt and emitted the noises of carriages and people walking from one place to another. Inari-sama was not pleased with him. Even as the zenko bowed his head to his patron, lowering his head until it touched the wooden floor, Kusuriuri could sense Inari-sama’s annoyance.

“You have not found a bride, my child. You gave me your word.” Inari-sama said. “Benzaiten has begun to wonder if she should offer one of her precious potions to help with your…situation.”

I do not deserve such kindness from Benzaiten-sama, my patron.” Kusuriuri replied smoothly. “I have searched for a bride…but none were able to pass my test, most unfortunate indeed.”

“If you are lying -”

“I am not.”

Inari-sama became silent, for only a moment, before Kusuriuri heard the pit-pat-pit-pat of his creator’s feet on the floor, walking towards him. He did not dare look up even when Inari-sama’s paw pressed against the back of his head and felt something wet warm lick his right thumb followed by a brief, white-hot sensation.

“It is done.” Inari-sama proclaimed. “Raise your head.”

Kusuriuri did so, looking directly at the massive stone statue of his patron, any trace of his presence vanishing even when he continued to speak to him.

“Leave this temple and follow the path that lies ahead, through the torii gates and beyond. Do not stop until the red string of fate guides to where you must go. Farewell, my dear son.”

Kusuriuri bowed to the statue, pulling the ropes of his medicine box over his shoulders before he departed the temple. Down the stone stairs, past the statues, and stopped at the torii gates, which were now lined with paper lanterns, the sound of suzu bells permeating the humid air. He glanced over his shoulder back at the temple before his feet carried him through the first gate.

As the medicine seller walked, he noticed the torii gates dwindling, replaced with archways of ancient trees and paper lanterns transfigured into iron and glass, the flames glowing brightly as the forest grew darker. The air became cooler, and were filled with creatures he had never seen before; large lizards with iridescent wings ridden by smaller, humanoid beings covered in feathers and had antennae on top of their heads, laughing in silvery voices alongside tiny spheres of light. On the ground there were creatures dressed peculiarly, draped in moss and wore stone helmets. A couple of them even wore redcaps and carried shovels, a Western tool that has recently been imported into the country …although he can say with certainty that this place is no longer his homeland, and he longer possessed a human form.

He had been transformed back into a fox, yet his medicine box hadn’t vanished. It only shrunk to accommodate his current physical state. This was not good, because he cannot use the sealed sword of exorcism to slay Mononoke…but could he even call these creatures Mononoke?

He continued to follow the trail, the red string pulling him to the edge of the forest that led to a vast field. In the distance he could see stone houses lined up, leading to what might be a village. When he took a step forward, Kusuriuri yowled in pain. Looking down, he saw that his left paw had been caught in a steel trap. He was about to summon his magic to release the mechanism when two hands suddenly appeared, pulling the trap apart. Kusuriuri quickly removed his injured paw and looked up at the owner of the shadow that suddenly loomed over him.

It was a boy, no, a young man with light brown skin and wavy black hair, dressed in black trousers, a striped shirt, and a black jacket. Kusuriuri thought he’d be a human if he did not possess bright red eyes that were glaring at him.

“Who are you?” The not-human asked. “You’re not like any fae I’ve ever seen before.”

“And you are unlike any Mononoke I have seen.” Kusuriuri quipped, tilting his head. “Perhaps…an inugami?”

The not-human frowned. “I suppose you’re welcome is a bit much to expect from a fox.” He said, glancing down at the bleeding paw. “Can you walk?” Kusuriuri took a step forward, wincing slightly from the jolt of pain. The not-human sighed.

“Figures.” He leaned forward, scooping Kusuriuri up in his arms before standing at his full height. “I’ll take you to my master, she’ll fix you up in no time. Don’t even think about declining because she will force you to take medicine. Seeing anyone, neighbor or human, hurt bothers her a lot.”

“And what, pray tell, is a neighbor?” Kusuriuri asked.

The not-human trudged through the moors as he explained that ‘neighbor’ was just another name for fae, a race of beings that have the ability to conjure magic for themselves or to aid others. If the medicine seller saw ones that possess a human form but have wings and talons, those were the prank-loving Ariels. The not-human, introducing himself as Ruth, is a Church Grim. He was tasked with chasing away robbers from a church before he formed a familiar contract with his master. Fae existed all over the world, but they were ruled by the King and Queen of their kingdom.

Kusuriuri hummed. So, there were different creatures than Mononoke in this world. He looked down and saw that the red string, now tied to his ankle, was glowing brighter and began tugging him forward even when he was securely held in Ruth’s grasp. The moors transformed into cobblestoned streets and he can see the stone houses more clearly; some were large, some were small, there were gardens and there wasn’t. The one Ruth took them to was a large two-story residence lined with meticulously trimmed flowers on either side.

It would have been a lovely sight but seeing dozens of sheep with glowing blue wings floating around the house rattled Kusuriuri, making his fur stand up on end in alarm. Ruth must have seen the look on his face, saying, “Relax. These aren’t neighbors. The wooly bugs are closer to animals and very few individuals are able to see them. Well, here we are.” He approached the wooden door, grabbing the golden knob and twisting it to the left.

“I’m back.” He called, stepping inside. “[First Name], I’ve got a patient! Some stupid human laid another bear-trap by the forest’s edge again!”

Kusuriuri glanced around. The area they were standing in by the door was the place to leave shoes, but there were hooks nailed into the wall, and a folded umbrella in a tall, cylinder-shaped bin. As Ruth moved further into the house, his mind began to spin in confusion.

Instead of being separated by sliding doors, the kitchen and the dining rooms were open, covered in wooden furnishings, lights were suspended from the ceiling, and the walls were covered in paper that had irises on them yet they weren’t painted by hand. There were books, paintings, and potted plants everywhere, and so many doors on the left and right side that Kusuriuri’s headache worsened.

Western decorations were so much more complicated than the ones in his homeland.

Eventually Ruth entered a room where there were windows that let in natural light. Towers of books laid on the wooden floor even when there were more bookshelves pressed against the wall. Hunched over a desk, surrounded by glass beakers, mortar and pestles and coiled burners and notes scattered across the space was a young woman dressed in unusual clothes who lived in an unusual house with a snippy Church Grim.

This is how Kusuriuri met his final bridal candidate; the mage of the countryside and overseer of the Fae, [First Name] [Last Name].

[“She’s not a guardian, moron. If anything, they flock to her.” Ruth grumbled as he watched his master apply ointment and bandaged the guest’s wounded paw once the blood had been wiped away with water.]

In his defense, Kusuriuri didn't know there were others that existed in this world except Mononoke. [First Name] chastised Ruth for being rude to their guest in a soft, low voice reminding him how confused he had been when he first became her familiar when all he had ever known was the church he’d been protecting. Ruth had the grace to look a little ashamed, though blithely said he doesn’t trust their guest either.

[First Name] raised a brow, leaning back against the wooden chair. “You never trust anyone who approaches me, Ruth. But couldn’t you say that I’m not as afraid or reckless as I used to be?”

“I beg to differ. You haven’t changed at all.”

“Being a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“No.”

As the Grim argued one-sidedly with his mistress, Kusuriuri stared at [First Name]. At first glance, she didn’t seem remarkable except for the clothes she wore. If they were back in his homeland, she would dominate the Meiji era’s fashion trend, the embodiment of an independent woman. Shiny, healthy [Hair Color] tresses were pulled back by a [Favorite Color] ribbon, cascading past her neck, inquisitive [Eye Color] irises twinkling with curiosity and amusement. Immortal child of Inari-sama he may be, Kusuriuri could never accurately determine a human’s age.

He did wonder, in the back of his mind, why her left arm looked as if it had been carved from dark wood to resemble a dragon’s claw rather than flesh and blood.

According to mythology, the zenko are benevolent servants of Inari, kitsune who descend to the mortal realm to perform good deeds in their patron's honor. Some of these zenko are said to be incredibly powerful.

Given to the mystery of Kusuriuri's origins in Mononoke, it is strongly implied in the series that he is not in fact a human, but something else entirely. It is possible that Kusuriuri is in fact a zenko, though we will never know for certain...

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