#despite this not actually being a possibility I have clearly thought a lot about this sort of thing LMAO

[overlymetaromantic]

If you were ever given the opportunity, would you want to move to webtoon originals?

Honestly, proooooobably not? But that's based 100% on my own goals and circumstances more than anything else! I genuinely love making comics, but I don't think I would ever actually want it to be my job, both because I don't think I physically would have what it takes and because monetizing a hobby fundamentally changes your relationship to it in a way that I don't think I'd like 😅 I also have a day job that I genuinely enjoy, so I don't need to make money from my art, which is honestly really nice and lucky!! It means I'm not bound to anyone's deadlines but my own, which is great because I can be very disjointed in my work flow behind the scenes sometimes LMAO 😂

Hypothetically moving MBNSSB specifically to Originals would also necessitate rebooting the story if it were to happen now, and I would worry having to go all the way back to the beginning would kill my momentum, because I've been plagued by that before with past projects that no one has ever seen for that very reason ahahaha 😂🥲 I would never want to rule out the possibility of something changing in the future if I ever was lucky enough to consider an opportunity like that!! But for now, I'm genuinely so happy with the readers I have and the comic I've made thus far, so I'm fully content with sticking to the Canvas side of things! ❤️

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

This fandom created a myth about Lady Whistledown. Sometimes i wonder if i watched the same show. Let me make myself clear: While Penelope has to tell Colin the truth, because she loves him and he deserves it, LW helped the Bridgertons a lot actually. It saved them to have Daphne married to a creep ( and see how Violet wanted people to talk to reach LW and spread), saved Colin from a loveless marriage with children that he didn't know anything about it and saved Eloise. Yes, it saved Eloise. Eloise created and kept pushing the situation in her reckless pursuit. Eloise also didn't think about the consequences of her action towards the people working for LW, didn't listen to Penelope, didn't think about the risk she was putting people at. And while i understand her anger in not knowing, had she been a better friend, many other things would be different, because she truly never paid attention to what Penelope feels or want, she molded Pen to be whom she wanted and be her audience. And then, she left Pen with the choice of losing all she built and suffer consequences or pick the less harmful option: to make Eloise's scandal about politics, not romantic and save them both, plus Theo. The real ruin for Eloise would've been her being caught with Theo, something that was bound to happen as she was not careful at all. Why should Pen sacrifice all for Eloise? Would any of you sacrifice all ( job, family and possibly your liberty) for a friend who caused the bloody situation? I'm no hypocrite, i know i wouldnt. Not to mention Eloise bravado, to Pen she would say she wants to challenge society and doesn't care about what they think...but folded the moment she received a frown from the Ton. Shall we see who are LW victims, people that suffered real consequences? Lord Beerbrock. That's it. Marina is married, despite her lies and deceit. Colin? Nothing as well, in fact, happier than ever. Eloise? A few weeks of ostracism and she's back without a problem, without a romantic entanglement to ruin her. One that she clearly didn't really thought was deep enough to face society. The Bridgertons have more to thank LW than to hate her. And Violet and Anthony, i bet your asses, do think so, and see it. And The Queen? Are you watching the show? Have you seen Charlotte's personality? That woman loves the whole game with LW. And She loves to take it all, to receive the laurels of that society. As long as she can make it look like the won, and she can, easily, by revealing or be involved in revealing who is LW. See the whole KatexEdwina, how she handled the Ton there.

Anyway, just wanted to say something because some people have dreamed a LW that doesn't exist at all. Created on their own minds a boogeyman that wasn't simply reporting the truth with witty opinions but fabricating stories and lies to ruin lives, and that's simply not true. Never happened. There was never a lie created there. Only the truth, even about herself, as Pen was often damaged by her column.

[atlabeth]

plastic hearts

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x fem!gideon reader

summary: spencer gets a front row seat to some gideon family matters.

a/n: full 100% credit to @hotchfiles for her gideon!reader idea and thank you sm for allowing me to take a stab at her w spence, i love messy women and this was actually so fun for me lmao. i owe you everything for getting me out of this mini writing slump!! this just reinforces the fact that arguments are my fav thing to write bc this came out of nowhere lmao

wc: 1.1k

warning(s): very messy family relationship lol gideon and reader argue the whole time. reader's got daddy issues and a one-sided grudge against spence. drama and tension and not a good time for anyone but me

“Gideon, I was looking over the most recent case file and I—” 

Spencer is just barely able to avoid stumbling over both his words and himself only after he’s walked halfway into Gideon’s office. He’s nowhere to be found, only a pretty girl around his age sitting in the chair across from his desk with taut lips and a frown that you turn on him. 

“You’re not Gideon,” Spencer says dumbly. 

“Very astute,” you say. “They clearly hire the best here.” 

“W— who are you, exactly?” he asks. “And why are you in Gideon’s office? And where is he?” 

“That’s a lot of questions.” You tilt your head to the side. “Not surprised he hasn’t talked about me.” 

And once again, Spencer finds himself just staring at you. He’s pouring over every interaction he’s had with Jason Gideon since he started working here, every knickknack and tchotchke he’s ever seen on his desk, any pictures he might’ve seen from glimpses at his wallet. 

“You’re Reid, right?” Your eyes narrow in, and despite being around you for no more than a minute, he already feels like he’s doing something wrong. “He talks about you a lot. Probably more than me.” 

“Spencer Reid,” he says. “Uh— Doctor Spencer Reid, actually, but—” Spencer blinks and shakes his head, because why are you the one leading the conversation here? “Who are you, exactly? Because Gideon doesn’t really like visitors and he never really has them anyway and I really have to talk to him about something, so if you could just tell me where he is that would be great.” 

“I don’t know, but I’m surprised you don’t. He seems to like you a lot more than he likes me.” You huff a laugh. “I’m supposed to be here. He probably just forgot about it.”

Spencer opens his mouth to ask you again to just please say your name because the last thing he needs on his hands right now is a security hazard with him as the first line of defense, but he’s saved by the bell, because Gideon walks in right at that moment. 

He stops in his tracks as soon as he crosses the threshold, the pile of files and folders in his hands losing his interest—Spencer doesn’t even think he sees him, the way his eyes immediately lock in on you. He says your name, and Spencer doesn’t have to be a profiler to pick up on the annoyance. He swears he gets a hint of guilt, too. 

“I didn’t know you were coming to the office today,” he says. 

“Figures,” you remark. “We only made plans a week in advance and I only emailed you three times and called you today to make sure. How could you possibly remember?”  

“I never got a call.” 

“You never picked up.” 

“I was busy,” he says. “This job—” 

“I know,” you intone dryly. “It’s always the job.” 

“Gideon, I have a question.”

Spencer knows it’s not the best time, but the tension has shot up and the temperature has shot down, and he would really like to get out of here as soon as possible. Gideon frowns as he looks at him, and if Spencer didn’t know who he was working with he would have thought he was noticing him for the first time. 

“How rude of me.” Gideon walks over to his desk, and his voice is oddly restrained as he gestures at you. “Reid, meet my daughter.” 

He doesn’t even get the chance to say that wasn’t his question, because his eyes nearly burst out of his head as Gideon says your name and, more importantly, your title. 

“Your— your daughter?” 

“There it is,” you say wryly. “It’s heartwarming to know how much you talk about me, Dad.” 

“We don’t need to do this right now,” Gideon says as he sets his files down. He looks more tired than usual. 

“No, I think we do.” You lean forward, resting your elbows on your legs. “Because you finally agreed to fit me into your schedule for once, and instead, I meet boy wonder before I meet you.” 

“You don’t need to bring Reid into this,” he says. 

“I think I do,” you repeat. “Because I know about him and his three PhDs and how he’s the youngest agent here, and he doesn’t even know my name.” You look at Reid, a falsely disarming smile spreading across your lips. “You didn’t know my name, did you? I mean, based on that reaction, I don’t think you knew he had a daughter.” 

Spencer’s mouth opens and nothing comes out. He looks at Gideon for help, and he lets out a deep sigh as he says your name.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can we reschedule?” 

“No,” you say. “I have a job of my own too, y’know. This was the only spot I could carve out to come see you—I’m blocked in for the next month.” 

“We just got a case,” he says. “We have to brief everyone and be out within the hour.”

“Of course,” you say bombastically. “You always have a goddamn case, Dad.” 

“I have no control over it,” Gideon says, his voice pained. “You know that.” 

“Maybe not over the case, but you have some pull here,” you say. “And you’re in full control when you decide not to pick up the phone.” 

“I didn’t ignore you,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“That’s not good enough.” You pick your purse up from the ground and sling it over your shoulder, and your glare shifts to Spencer. “Maybe I should get a job here. Maybe you’d give me the same attention you give to him.” 

Spencer blinks. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been more uncomfortable in this office, which is saying something with their field of work. 

“I— I’m sorry,” he stammers, because what else is he supposed to say?

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “At least one person is,” you mutter. 

You walk out without another word, and Spencer sees Gideon’s jaw clench for just a second. 

He calls out your name, mostly in annoyance with a hint of desperation, and he starts towards the door. He pauses before he can cross the threshold, and he looks at Spencer. 

“Not a word of this leaves this office.” 

Spencer nods far too many times in confirmation, and then Gideon dashes out. He hears him calling your name yet again in the distance. They have a new case, they’ll probably be on the jet within the hour, he still has these files in his hands and that unanswered question, and yet he’s rooted in place with wide eyes. 

“Gideon has a daughter?” he repeats quietly to himself. 

[microclown]

I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..

Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?

Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.

As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.

That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.

Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.

I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"

But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.

It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!

And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.

And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.

idk it just makes me feel things ok

[anthurak]

Something I was always a little concerned about in the lead-up to Hazbin Hotel was that Charlie was going to be a bit too passive of a character, ie; leaning only into the ‘kind, optimistic Disney-Princess-in-Hell who just wants to help everyone’ vibe and not really have much else going on as a character. Which in turn would make her feel kind of bland next to the big, over-the-top or dramatic personalities like Angel Dust and Alastor.

But thankfully, that is not what happened and there’s actually a lot that I like about what the writers are doing with Charlie, particularly in the potential future development and reveals they seem to be setting up.

First off, I like how Charlie generally comes off more like an over-the-top caricature of that ‘Disney-Princess-in-Hell’ vibe, ie; SUPER energized, enthusiastic, affectionate and emotional, often to overbearing degrees that get on everyone’s nerves. It’s generally funny, or at least amusing, and lets Charlie stand out alongside the other big personalities in the cast. Funny enough, she’s actually a lot like Blitzo in this regard, minus the seesawing into extreme abrasiveness.

And more importantly, we’ve already gotten major hints all but confirming that this over-the-top personality is largely a façade, and that Charlie actually has some very clear issues and baggage that she’s working VERY hard to keep buried beneath the surface. Again, much like Blitzo.

Like how in the trust-fall exercise in episode three, despite asking everyone to reveal something personal, Charlie actually bullshits just as hard as Angel Dust and Sir Pentious with her whole ‘I love you all!’ bit. Sure, it’s not like she was lying or being insincere, but it’s clear that was NOT something truly personal for Charlie. And in episode 4 we have Husk straight-up calls out Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’.

Then of course we have the brief glimpses we’ve seen of Charlie getting angry. Both the times we’ve seen Charlie dealing with some truly despicable and horrendous characters, we’ve seen that rather than lacking the ability to get angry, Charlie is often working to hold herself back. In both her encounters with Adam and Valentino we see points where Charlie is clearly NOT intimidated or afraid of them at all and seems fully prepared to throw down, only being stopped by reigning herself in or by someone else (in this case Angel) stopping her.

Again, it all paints Charlie’s big, bubbly, hyperactive exuberance as something of a front, a way for her to bury a lot of thoughts, feelings and general baggage she doesn’t want to face. Just like what the show has already explored with Angel and Husk.

It actually raises some interesting questions as to what’s REALLY driving Charlie in running the hotel and trying to help Sinners. For one, Husk has already pegged Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’. And going back to thematic crossover with Helluva Boss, I can’t help but see some potential parallels between Charlie creating the Hazbin Hotel, and Blitzo creating Immediate Murder Professionals.

I think it’s pretty clear at this point that half the reason for creating I.M.P. was as a coping mechanism for Blitzo, or rather the assassination business in general. Something that we’ve gotten hints to as early as the second episode in Blitzo’s back and forth with the Robo-Fizz (“Does anyone love you, Blitzo?”/“No. But I’m really good with guns now!”). With the other half of the reason Blitzo created I.M.P. clearly seems to be to create a surrogate family, as seen with how much he tries to insert himself in the M&M’s lives. Possibly even a specific attempt to replace the family he unwittingly destroyed fifteen years ago.

So I really have to wonder if we’re going to find out that Charlie creating the hotel and her goal of redeeming sinners is in part likewise a coping mechanism and escape for her own baggage.

It’s actually really interesting how episode two first introduced the idea of people opening up with Sir Pentious, then episode four dived further into the concept of the walls and fake personas people put up to hide from their pain and trauma with Angel Dust and Husk. With those two opening up and starting to let their walls down to each other, and by extension we the audience, I think it makes Charlie’s own façade all the more noticeable. It’ll be pretty interesting if Charlie actually winds up being the toughest nut to crack when it comes to opening up about their real issues and baggage. Yet another interesting trait she shares with Blitzo.

All in all, I’m really liking what the show has been doing with Charlie as a protagonist. And I’m REALLY interested to see where the story is going to take her.

Particularly what’s going to happen when she reaches a breaking point…

[clownwritesfanfic]

Wake Up Mr.Sleepyhead - Touya Todoroki x GN! Reader

I just…I had to write something. I have so many feelings about him.

Spoilers for Season 7 Episode 8

I am not caught up with the manga so I only know as far as the anime. If there are canon things that haven’t been revealed yet in the anime then it will not be in here, I’m using headcanons and my own interpretations.

Summary: The boy everyone had affectionately called “Mr. Sleepyhead” has finally woken up from his three year coma. You never imagined things would go down hill so quickly.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Reader is emotionally fucked, Reader has a quirk, Reader has hair long enough to run fingers through

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word count: 6,460

Disclaimer: Reader is kept as ambiguous as possible. This fic is safe for plus size readers and readers of colour. If you find something that contradicts this, please let me know. No use of (Y/N).

Reader and Touya are both 16

———————————————————————

It’s been three years since he showed up.

You still remember that day so clearly.

You were thirteen when he arrived. You had been there since the opening of the children’s house. A man approached your parents when your quirk got out of control when you were eight and offered to enroll you in his newly built “school”. It felt more like a daycare than anything else. You learned a few school subjects but there was a lot of quirk training as well.

You were terrified, but persisted. Since you were one of the first, you got to witness other kids joining, and some of them got to leave. No one knew where they went, and Mr. Sunny wouldn’t disclose any information either. He’d always try to change the subject. You learned pretty quickly to let it go and not think too hard about it.

All the new kids always flocked to you. You were one of the few left from the first group, and kids were always so curious, so they always pestered you with questions. Because of this, you became one of the unofficial helpers. Mr. Sunny was the only staff, other than the doctor that would come in every few months for check ups or if someone got injured passed what a simple band-aid could fix. And then of course there was the House Master.

He never showed up in person. He always spoke through a screen. You were probably one of the few people that actually saw a glimpse of him back when he propositioned your parents.

Because you were so popular with the kids, it was easy to help care for them. They all saw you as an older sibling, even calling you as such sometimes. Although, over the years, you got tired. You hated this place. And you slowly started to hate the people in it. You hated how needy some of the kids were. How happy they all seemed to be despite never being allowed to see or talk to their parents. All the intense quirk training and unwanted child rearing wore you out. You slowly started to become a shell of a person. You were able to fake a smile in order to please the kids and throw off any suspicion Mr. Sunny had of you, but deep down, you couldn’t feel emotions anymore. You didn’t care about any of the kids that adored you.

And that included him.

You knew, once he was wheeled in on his bed, comatose, that you were going to have to help out. And you were right.

Mr. Sunny took care of any bathing and dressing issues, and the doctor took care of any medical ones such as replacing his IV and monitoring his healing. But you were in charge of keeping him company whenever you could and shooing away any stray children that snuck in to his room.

You hated it. You thought it was stupid. He’s in a coma, what sort of company would he need?

You mostly sat by his bed, staring at him. Waiting for some kind of movement so you could do anything else but this. But the only movement you saw was his chest slowly rising and falling and the only thing you could hear was the beeping of his heart monitor.

He looked awful when he first showed up. He had reconstructive surgery on his jaw, and third degree burns all over. They did manage to have someone with a healing quirk try and speed up the recovery, but they could only do so much. You weren’t gonna lie…you didn’t want to be near him at first. Because of his burnt, dead, skin he smelled awful. He needed to be bathed regularly but that could only do so much.

As he healed, and fresh new skin came in on some parts of his body and face, he started to look (and smell) better. You watched his healing process from start to finish. Talking to him sometimes as there was nothing else to do and sitting in silence can only get you so far with out wanting to rip your hair out.

You talked about anything and everything. The weather, the other kids, training, any trouble you had with the little school work they actually provided, how curious the kids were about him, etc. Over time, you started to enjoy the time you had with him, even if he never responded.

It was nice to get away from the rest of the “family”. Plus, it was an excuse to get away after a particularly hard session of training. Everyone here had powerful quirks. A lot of them had bodies that couldn’t adapt to their quirk. That was supposedly the purpose of this place. To help people cope with it all.

Luckily, you weren’t one of those people, your quirk didn’t effect your body much. Over use would exhaust you but it wasn’t as bad as some of the other kids. And definitely no where near as bad as this kid.

It was a normal day at the school when he woke up. You were watching over some of the older kids while Mr. Sunny took the younger kids for nap time. Most of them were doing some kind of arts and craft or playing, others opted to catch up on some school work.

You were helping a girl with her writing when you heard one of the new kids shout.

“Oh, the sleepyhead’s awake!”

You didn’t pay attention to what she was saying, more so the volume at which she spoke.

“Keep it down. You know the young ones are sleeping.” You scolded not looking up from the paper the girl was working on.

“Mr. Sunny!” A different girl yelled. “The sleepyhead’s awake!”

“Oi!” You shouted at her, still not noticing what everyone was yelling about. “He’s busy. Sit down and be quiet.”

“Where…am I?” A deeper and raspy male voice spoke. Now, that got your attention.

Your head snapped up towards the door where the voice came from and stared directly at an all too familiar face. Holy shit…he’s awake. His eyes are so…blue. You don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes that blue before. Seeing him awake and standing was weird.

You were released from your thoughts when the new girl spoke to him.

“This is our home! You slept for…let’s see…three years! You slept for three whole years! I just arrived, so I don’t know much, but that’s what Mr. Sunny said.” She explained. He looked shocked and upset at the news.

You stood up abruptly, your chair squeaking loudly on the floor. “Caroline! You can’t just spring something like that on him! You’re just confusing and scaring him.” You reprimanded as you walked over to the two.

“Ah…I-I’m sorry…I just…” Caroline tried to explain herself.

“Go sit down. I’ll handle this.” You sighed.

“But shouldn’t we tell Mr. Sun-“ another voice spoke up from the back of the room but didn’t get to finish when you interrupted them.

“NO! Don’t say anything to him yet. I’m handling this.”

You grabbed the white haired boy by the wrist, he was breathing heavily at this point and seemed to have zoned out.

“Come with me, quickly.” You dragged him out of the room and down the hallway. This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he tried pulling against you.

“W-wait! Hold on, what-“ he started before you shushed him.

You opened a closet door full of cleaning supplies and shoved him inside as he kept protesting. You shushed him every time. You slid into the closet next to him and shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” He practically yelled at this point.

“Shut up!” You whisper yelled at him and grabbed his shoulders. There wasn’t much room in the small closet but this was your best shot at being hidden for a while.

“Listen, I don’t know much about you myself, I don’t even know your name. All I know is that one day, three years ago you were found covered head to toe in third degree burns and had a missing jaw. You went through surgery to fix what they could and for three years you’ve been in a coma here. I don’t know why you specifically are here, it must be something to do with your quirk, because this is a place for kids with powerful quirks that they can’t control so they can get help. This is all I know, the grown ups don’t tell us much. I’m sorry…” you quickly explained, keeping your voice down.

“I…” He tried to process everything. “A coma? Surgery?!”

“Shhh! Not so loud. I know you’re freaked out right now and confused and I wish I could tell you more but I genuinely do not know anything else, but if it makes you feel any better…you weren’t alone. I was tasked to sit by your side basically since you arrived here.” You tried your best to calm him down.

“Really?” He still sounded like a child and you supposed he still was one, mentally he’s still 13 and everything must be so terrifying to learn. You don’t really know why you were trying to comfort him. You don’t like him anymore than the other kids. And you didn’t like them at all. You pitied him, you guessed.

“Yeah…I talked to you almost every day. Look, you’re safe here. As long as you follow the rules and don’t cause too much trouble you’ll do fine.” You sighed.

“No, I…I have to go home.” You felt despair at his words. You knew he was never going home. No one that came here ever went home…not if he could help it.

You were about to explain that to him when the door to the closet opened, blinding you both with the shitty fluorescent lights from the hallway.

“Ah, there you two are. Now, sunny, I know you’re excited that your friend is awake now, but you know why kids aren’t allowed alone together. I’ll take it from here. Please join the others in the activity room.” Mr. Sunny smiled down at you two.

You blushed furiously at the implications of his words and ripped your hands away from the boys shoulders and crossed your arms.

“You know damn well that’s not what was happening.” You muttered as you stomped past him.

“Language, sunny!” Mr. Sunny sing songed.

——————————————————————

It was night time now, all the younger kids were fast asleep, having been put to bed an hour ago, and the older kids were winding down for the night and getting ready for their bed time.

You however, were lingering outside Mr. Sunny’s office. The door was wide open…so it wasn’t like you were eavesdropping, but you were staying out of sight.

You felt like something was wrong. Like something bad was about to happen. Touya, you learned his name was at dinner, seemed adamant that he was going home. You just wanted to be there when the news was broken to him. You’d gotten used to being the therapist all the kids come running to.

“I have to get home!” You heard him plead.

“You can’t do that, sunny!” And there it was….the ball has dropped.

“Why not?” Touya argued.

“You’ll be living here with everyone else now, sunny! This is your new family! I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon!” God, you hated that fucking flower freak. You were told the same thing and you know how much it stings to hear that.

“Wait a minute! I have to get home! My dad…He probably just had work and couldn’t come. I’m sure he’s worried! I did…and said…some terrible things. I need to apologize to Mom and the others…I need Dad to see what I can do.” You could hear the pain in his voice, and yet…he still sounded like a child.

“I’m gonna be a he-“ He got cut off.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that can happen anymore.” You flinched at the voice. It’s him.

“Your burned up body was extremely hard to repair. The missing parts were filled in with regenerative tissue. Your face makes you look like someone different, but even so, you survived.” The voice cracked through the speakers.

“What are you saying? I don’t understand…someone different?” Touya whimpered.

“You can’t use your power like you did before. There was damage to your organs. Your senses, including your sense of pain, has been dulled. Your body is weakened. It will never go back to how it was before.” Damn….you didn’t know it was that bad. You felt pity for the boy.

“We would have liked to receive you in full health, too.” He continued. You could hear Touya’s shaky breathing. “We did our best, but unfortunately, we failed.”

You could hear him trying to hold back his tears. You peeked your head in and saw him bent over, clutching his face.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? You poor thing. But WE might be able to make your flames go back to normal! How about it? Will you try joining our family and learning together with us?” You wanted to punch that asshole. He ruined countless children’s lives. He ruined YOUR life. Who knows how many more of these places he has running.

“Shut up.” Touya spoke. You could hear the anger boiling in his voice. “I don’t want to learn from anyone else. The only one who can teach me is…” he threw the keyboard at the computer screen “my dad!”

“Don’t do that, sunny!” Mr. Sunny intervened, grabbing his shoulder that stupid smile on his face.

“Be quiet!” He yelled as he fought back, activating his quirk. You could feel the heat form the doorway. “Shut up!”

Suddenly, the whole room was ablaze. Touya turned and stopped when he saw you standing there. You stared back at him blankly. He huffed and ran past you down the hallway. You knew you could stop the fire. You knew it would’ve been the right thing to do. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this was your one and only chance at freedom. So you ran after him.

You caught up to him when he tried pushing open a locked door. You grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him towards the front enterance.

You both ran out the front doors as the entire building was quickly engulfed in flames. You let go of his wrist and let him lead the way. You could’ve gone your own way, but you followed him anyway. It’s not like you were dying to go home. As far as you’re concerned, you lost any family you had when your parents gave you up.

You stayed next to him as he slowed down. Soon, he was trudging along, both of you now in the middle of the city. The streets were lit by restaurant lights and the hanging street lights.

“I have…to go home.” He spoke more so to himself. You weren’t even sure he knew you were next to him. Your hands were shoved in your pockets as you looked around. You remember him saying he lived in Musutafu. That was the next city over. Not too far that it was impossible, but it would take a few hours to get there on foot.

He finally snapped out of his trance about an hour in. Most stores and restaurants were starting to close now, leaving only izakaya’s and yatai open. You passed a few with drunk patrons sat around on stools loudly chatting and laughing with each other.

You were surprised you hadn’t seen a single hero yet. In a city like this, you’d think there would be a bunch crawling around. Especially at night. At least you two were being left alone.

“Why are you following me?” He spoke up. He sounded tired. Ironic, considering he slept for three whole years.

“So you don’t die. Besides….I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I wanted to see this home you kept whining about.” You answered with a shrug.

He huffed and it was back to silence for a few minutes. He seemed to be deep in thought again as you two walked the streets.

“I killed that guy didn’t I?” He suddenly spoke up again.

“Probably shouldn’t say something like that out loud. But yeah, most likely. Bastard kinda deserved it though.” You replied.

“The whole place caught fire…oh god I probably killed everyone else…” He started to freak out.

“Nah…probably not everyone. Some of those kids have quirks that could be useful in a fire. They probably saved a bunch of the others. You probably only killed a few of them.” You realized that wasn’t a very helpful thing to say but it was too late.

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?!” He yelled, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You were now both stopped on the sidewalk as he hyperventilated.

You sighed and scratched the back of your neck. “Touya…I never gave a shit about anyone in the damn place. I was never attached to them. Everyone there annoyed me. I wanted to be left alone, but the kids liked me so goddamn much that I was put in charge of them against my will when that freak was busy. They became attached to me while I felt absolutely nothing for them. They were never my family, no matter how hard that idea was pushed. I was given up by my parents because they were terrified of my quirk. I lost all sense of a family when I walked through those doors for the first time. I don’t care if they lived or died. I’m just glad that place is burnt to the ground and I’m out of there. So if anything, I should be thanking you.”

Touya was shocked at your lack of care. He started to notice how dull your eyes were, how tired you looked. Now he was the one that started to pity you.

He let go of your shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and turned to continue walking. You followed a pace behind him silently.

——————————————————————

Hours later, it was the next day. It was dark and cloudy even though it was around noon.

Touya had come to a stop in front of a rather large traditional looking estate. You stood beside him as he stared at the huge double doors that lead to the front yard.

“Jesus…no wonder you were so desperate to get home. If my home was as nice as this I’d have burned the place down myself years ago.” You joked.

“I told you…I’m a Todoroki.” He looked at you confused.

“Am I suppose to know what that means?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

“My father is Endeavour? Number two hero in all of Japan?” He looked bewildered.

“Ah, right…not gonna lie…I thought you were lying about that.” You laughed.

He sighed, exasperated as he looked back at the doors and took a deep breath before swallowing.

He slowly pushed open one of the doors and walked through as you stood by and watched the boy you had been next to for the last three years.

He turned to you when he realized you were still stood outside the property.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

You flinched. “Do you…want me to?” You replied, confused. You thought this would be the end of the ride for you, you’d finally be alone after this.

He nodded. “I’m sure my parents will be able to help you. They would probably let you stay for as long as you want, or help you find a place to stay if you’d prefer that.”

You felt a blush ride to your cheeks. No one ever gave a shit about you like that. You didn’t know how to feel as you felt your heartbeat speed up.

You tsked and glared at the ground as you walked through. “Whatever.” You mumbled.

He smiled softly and closed the door behind you then made his way to the entrance of the house, you following behind him, hands shoved deep in your pockets.

He opened the door and let you in first.

“Mom? Dad? I’m home! I’m sorry for worrying you all but I’m back and I’m okay!” He called into the eerily quiet house. He stepped up from the genkan not bothering to put on any slippers that were near the door. You noticed that there was only two pairs at the front. You remembered him saying he had three siblings and both his parents lived with each other. But if only two people were out…why did no one answer?

You followed behind him as you looked around the spacious and very traditional house. You wished you lived in a house like this.

That’s when you both heard a childlike scream followed by an older male voice cursing and yelling commands.

Touya took off down the hall where the noises came from and you followed close behind. As you got closer you could smell smoke and wood burning and you could feel the intense heat.

He stopped at an open sliding door and stared in. You couldn’t see in from where you were standing, but you could see the flames covering the inside of that room.

Touya was stiff as he stood there, his hands clenched into tight fists. You could see tears falling down his face. Whatever he was seeing…it obviously effected him quite negatively. He silently took off down the hall as he wiped at his face with his sleeve and you stepped forward, the floor underneath your feet still warm from where he stood. You looked in and saw a young boy, probably around eight, hunched over on the floor. Perfectly split red and white hair covered his face. That must be Shoto. Touya told you about how much he resented him as a kid. The huge man standing over Shoto, holding a piece of wood must be Endeavour. Looking at him now…he doesn’t look like a hero.

You slowly went off in the direction Touya went, careful not to make too much noise. You came across an open door and looked in. There stood Touya in a nearly empty room. The most prominent thing in the room was a huge wooden shrine, intricately decorated, that he stood in front of, his hands held up in front of him in prayer. He stared blankly down at a picture frame sat in the middle of the shrine.

You debated walking in or leaving him in peace. You thought it safer to join him incase his dad left the room and saw you. You slowly and silently slid the door closed behind you and stood next to him. You looked at the picture he was staring at and noticed a younger white haired boy in a school outfit. That must’ve been him before the accident. You couldn’t help but think he looked a little cute.

You sighed and matched his pose. Bringing your hands up in front of your face in prayer. You didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

You both left not long after that, climbing out a window in order to not be seen. You let him lead the way, going wherever he felt like.

It was an hour or so by the time you both came across an abandoned building. It looked like an office of some kind, it was also clearly the victim of a villain attack of some kind. You doubt normal robbers would attack an office and make this much mess.

Touya came to a stop in front of some fallen junk and sat down. He hunched over with his arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. You both stayed silent until you heard his stomach groan quite loudly. You chuckled breathily.

“I’ll go get some food. I saw a convenience store a block away. I’ll be back soon.” You spoke softly, not wanting to break the silence too harshly.

———————————————————————

When you got back you noticed he was laying down, an arm laid over his eyes.

“M’ back” you muttered, not sure if he was awake or not. You placed the two plastic bags full of food and drinks onto the nearby table. You noticed a laptop with a charger attached, the cable running off the table and onto the floor where it was plugged into an extension cord that was attached to the wall. He must’ve found it while you were out.

You heard shuffling and looked over at him as he slowly sat up. He was looking down but you could see the tear stains on his face and his bloodshot eyes. You didn’t comment on it.

He slowly shuffled over to you and looked through one of the bags. “How did you get this much stuff?” He asked.

“Stole an old ladies wallet and took the cash before she noticed.” You answered, pulling out a warm steamed sweet potato and handed it to him. You didn’t know what he liked but it was a popular choice so you guessed he wouldn’t mind. You also pulled out a water and handed it to him.

He took both items from you and went to sit down. He pushed down the paper wrapper and took a bite of the sweet potato.

“That’s pretty illegal ya know.” He said with his mouth full.

“So is burning down a school full of kids.” You retorted, a little annoyed due to being hungry. You pulled out a pork bun and bit into it.

He scoffed and you both sat in silence as you ate.

You finished the last of your bun and took a sip of your own water. You sighed. You felt bad for snapping at him, now realizing he was just teasing you.

“Touya-“ you started before being cut off.

“That’s not my name…not anymore.” He said dejectedly.

“Oh…” Now you know what he was really doing at his shrine. Touya is dead…now all that remains is the shell of a boy. “What…uh…What do you want to be called now then?” You moved over to him and sat down next to him.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, crumpling up the wrapper and chucking it across the room.

“Well…whenever you figure it out, lemme know. I wanna be the first one to call you that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at you and smiled softly, a light blush across his face.

——————————————————————

You woke up to the sound of typing and soft cursing.

You stretched your whole body, groaning at the feeling of your vertebrae snapping into place.

Your new friend looked over his shoulder at you. “Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He looked back at the screen.

“Hmm…it’s fine. What time is it?” You yawned as you slowly stood up. Your body stiff from the pile of semi comfortable debris you piled together last night. You lifted your shirt and scratched your side.

“7:26am” he responded after glancing at the tiny clock in the corner of the screen.

You hummed as you walked over to the table and looked through the bags. There was a single small bag of chips left. You weren’t able to get much filling food yesterday and you both ate through everything else, him especially. You knew teenage boys ate like they were starving but damn was he hungry. Although you gave him some slack considering his body was forced to survive off the bare minimum to keep him alive for three fucking years.

You opened the chips and ate one anyway. You were regretting not buying toothbrushes and toothpaste but whatever.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you shoved another chip in your mouth. You tilted the bag towards him in a silent offer.

He took one and answered as he chewed. Normally you’d find that gross but you can’t be bothered to care right now. “Trying to connect to the internet but the connection is shit.”

“Trying to look at baby name sites to find your new name?” You teased.

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye, making you chuckle.

“How long have you been awake?” You ate a few more chips before leaving the rest for him.

“About an hour.” He mumbled as he tried connecting to the internet again.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get some more food. Hopeful something better than just snack food.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head.

“Uh…” He said as he looked up at you, his gaze going to your stomach that showed from your shirt riding up.

“Hm?” You fixed your shirt, not noticing he was staring.

“Your hair…” He trailed off looking at your hair all tussled from sleep. He thought it looked…cute.

You tsked and ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix it. “Better?”

He gave a thumbs up and looked back at the screen.

“Get cup noodles.” He said more like a demand.

“How the fuck are we going to eat noodles?” You questioned.

He lifted his hand and activated his quirk, small orange and red flames dancing on his palm, all with out looking up.

“Ah…right…” You forgot he could do that.

“Don’t steal money from an old lady again!” He called after you, teasingly.

You simply flipped him off as you left, not looking at him.

When you returned, more bags than last time with more than just food this time you saw him still looking at that damn laptop watching something.

You could hear the yelling and brutal sounds coming from the device. You set the bags down on the table.

“What are you watching?” You rounded the table to his side to look. There you could see videos of Endeavour fighting off villains, his flames taking up a majority of the screen.

“Oh…why are you watching that? I would assume he’s the last person you’d want to see right now.” You walked back over to the bags and shuffled through them.

“I’m studying his moves. He never saw what I could do, so I’m going to show him I’m better than his precious favourite. That I can be just as powerful as him.” He growled as he stood back and set his arm on fire.

“Ah. Well you can do that later. Eat first.” You muttered. You pulled out two cup noodles like he requested. You had more for later too.

“Steal more money from an old lady?” He smirked as he grabbed one of the cups.

“No.” You mocked. “…it was a salary man.” You smirked. That got him to let out a loud laugh and shake his head.

You opened your cup noodle and dumped the powder packet in then grabbed one of the water bottles you bought and opened it, pouring some water up to the fill line then handed the bottle to the white haired boy to do the same.

He grabbed yours first and held it with both hands wrapped around it. “Sure you won’t burn the whole thing?” You teased.

“Shut up. I’ve done this before.” He hissed as he concentrated on getting the temperature right. You watched in awe as steam started to steadily rise from the cup.

He put yours down and you placed your wooden disposable chopsticks down on the lid to keep the steam in.

“It’s not boiling but it’s hot enough. You just have to wait a little longer.” He explained as he did the same to his cup.

“Fine by me. I’m just glad to have a hot meal.”

When you both finished your noodles you both had some broth left over. Which made you ask him, “Do you think you can cook eggs with your quirk?”

“What?” He looked at you, puzzled. “I mean…I dunno…I never really tried but…probably. Why?”

You stood up and walked back over to the table and fished around in one of the bags and pulled out a small container of two eggs and walked back over to him and sat back down.

“There’s this hack I learned where you can make a sort of egg soufflé with the remaining broth from cup noodles so you don’t have to dump it out.” You explained as you took an egg out and cracked it into your cup. “You’re supposed to microwave it but we obviously don’t have that option right now.” You whisked the egg up into the broth with your chopsticks.

You traded your cup for his and watched as he repeated the same thing he did to cook the noodles. You could both see the egg starting to cook along the sides and you both exclaimed in joy.

“This way we can get more protein.” You cracked and whisked the remaining egg into his cup.

It took longer but he managed to cook the egg enough to your liking so you switched back and he started on his cup. You had to let yours sit for a while to cool down so you both made small talk.

When you were both finally finished eating, your friend wanted to practice his quirk so you sat near by and watched.

He punched his fist out and orange flames burst around his hand and up his arm. He lift his hand and you watched as the golden flames changed into beautiful blue waves of heat.

“Woah…” you gasped. It made him smirk.

“Cool, huh?” He gloated cockily.

“I’ve never seen anyone have blue flames before. Does it hurt?” You questioned.

“Not as much as before. That guy said my sense of pain has been nullified and I can definitely tell.” He responded as he looked at his arm.

You scoffed at the mention of that asshole.

He turned off his quirk and looked at you. “Who was he by the way? Why did he only speak through a computer?”

“Fuck if I know. He was always communicating through that thing. Never bothered to show up even though he owned and created the damn place.” You seethed. “He was called the House Master. You couldn’t call him anything else, I swear it had to be some kind of ego boost or fetish.”

“He never showed his face?” He asked.

“No. Not while I was there…but I did get a glimpse of him once when he approached my parents about boarding me there.” You picked at your nails.

“You said that it was a place for kids with powerful quirks…what is your quirk? It must be insane if you were asked to be one of the first students.” He realized he never actually asked what your quirk is before.

You stood up and walked towards him and stood a few feet away. You gestured for him to activate his quirk.

He lifted his arm as orange flames burst through once again. You lifted your hand towards his flames and soon they reached towards your hand away from him. You moved your hand around and made the flames dance around in the air. You brought your hand behind you and the flames followed, jumping to your other hand behind your back and following in front, bringing them in front of your face and letting it sizzle out leaving little sparks, revealing his shocked face.

“Woah.” He was in awe.

“It’s called Elemental Manipulation. I can manipulate and maneuver any element I want. There are limitations though. I can use it on any element found on the periodic table, meaning it’s basically unstoppable considering everything in the universe is made up of something. However, I can’t use it on living being like plants, animals or people, and I can only manipulate something if I understand it’s elemental makeup. Water for example is two hydrogen and an oxygen. So I can pull hydrogen and oxygen from the air and combine them to make water, but it takes a lot of energy and time. Fire is a little trickier though since it’s primarily oxygen. I actually can’t create the elements myself, meaning I can’t produce fire like you, cause while oxygen helps fire spread, you still need a heat source and fuel to really start it. It’s easier for me to just move already existing elements than create it. But you can see how dangerous it can be if worked on enough.” You explained.

“Wow…that’s…really awesome.”

You shrugged.

You spent the next few hours watching him train, giving him suggestions every once in a while and making him take breaks if he looked like he was over exerting himself.

The day went by quickly and soon you both found yourself laying next to each other in silence, sometimes chatting about something the other thought of, but you were both content just laying there.

“I think I found a good name.” He broke the silence.

“Oh yeah?” You answered. You were laid on your back, hands folded together and your eyes closed.

“What about Dabi?” He asked, slightly looking for your approval.

You opened your eyes and stared at the dilapidated ceiling. “Dabi…” you tried it out. You smiled and looked over at him. “I like it. Sounds cool and mysterious.”

He smiled back at you.

———————————————————————

For the following years you stayed by his side. You both met Giran and he took you both in for a while. You helped staple his peeling skin and scolded him every time you noticed his scars spreading. You helped dye his hair black. You even helped give him his nose piercings, and you were there when he joined the League of Villains, consequently, joining yourself.

You grew yourself, too. You got better at using your quirk, still not to its full potential, but much easier to handle than when you were younger. You helped fight for Shigaraki’s cause, although you would always keep your entire loyalty to Dabi.

You both found comfort in each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why you agreed to help him when he asked you for a specific favour.

“You ready?” You asked as you stood over the shirtless man, sat on the couch. You softly cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumb.

“I’ve been waiting for this for years. Of course I’m ready.” He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips on the back of it as he made eye contact with you. His eyes still as blue as the day you first saw them.

You smiled and went over to the video camera that was pointed towards him. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers pressed together in front of his face.

“Go.” You whispered.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He looked into the camera through his fingers.

“My name…is Touya Todoroki.”

[loventian]

Touchstarved character name meanings!

Lemme preface this by saying I’m not a name meanings expert I just love crawling through google pages and over analyzing things ALSO to make sure the results weren’t influenced by fandom everything here is from pre-2020! With that let’s get into things!

Mhin:

Mhin is a little bit tricky, as I can’t find anything for their name spelled as it is. Min, however, has several different sources and meanings.

In Chinese, Min (敏) meanings “quick, clever, sharp” Which seems rather fitting for our neighborhood soulless hunter. An alternative script for Min (民) translates to “people, citizens” which could have some interesting implications, as Mhin is implied to have strong connections to the city of Lovent.

In Burmese Min means “king, ruler” which, connected with the second Chinese translation, could perhaps be some foreshadowing? We don’t know how Mhin is connected to Lovent, but the city must have had a ruling class, perhaps Mhin held a position of power? It could also be why they survived, and which a powerful curse nonetheless

Finally, in Irish Min is said to mean “smooth, fine, small”, though I can’t find as many sources on this one. I include it because people have pointed out Mhin’s cloak pins are triquetra, which are Celtic symbols.

Kuras:

Please know I adore Kuras when I say this, but he really got the short end of the naming stick it seems. The most promising thing I can find is the usage as a Hindi surname, which doesn’t seem to have a meaning listed. If you remove the S and go with Kura, it can mean “river” in Turkish or possibly “fierceness, tiger” in Japanese.

Now here’s the silly translations! In Arabic, Kuras (كراس) seems to translate to brochure. In polish, it translates to chicken.

I truly doubt the devs thought brochure/chicken were good labels for the dear doctor, so I’m favoring the Turkish translation. Mostly because Eridia is a city divided by a river; could there be something deeper hidden in there? Maybe!

Ais:

So clearly Ais has a lot of Japanese influence, with his design being inspired by Oni, so I looked for those possible translations first. Ai (愛) translates to love in Japanese, and is typically used as a broader term to refer to emotions tied to like compassion, empathy, or platonic forms of love (as opposed to 恋/koi which refers to romantic love).

I’m gonna focus on this translation for a bit. Someone on a translation forum phrased it in a way I really love: “Ai” is something you do or give. Ais is our introduction to the Seaspring, and to groupminds in general. While the concept of a hivemind is usually used in horror as a way of taking away agency, the Seaspring is framed as a refuge for people to turn to. Could Ais’ name be an allusion to a goal he keeps hidden? Is the Seaspring a manifestation of a desire to give love despite the violent world? Or am I just reading into this too deep?

Vere:

Vere actually has a straight up name meaning! Most of the sources I found say that Vere is a French/Gaulish name meaning “Alder”, and it usually pops up in the surname “De Vere”. Alders are a kind of bitch tree, and I have no idea how that tie into Vere as a character.

But if we take “Vere” as a word rather then a name, then Latin translates it as meaning “truly, really, actually, rightly”. Vere’s introduction to us is as someone to not trust, a cunning fox waiting for the next meal, stealing our darn room key and lying about it! So I find it really interesting that his name could be a word for truth. Perhaps before his chains Vere was someone a lot more truthful ?

Leander:

Big shout out to Leander for having a plain ass easy to translate name. I’ll give you googles exact definition here: "lion of a man", from leon, "lion", and andros, "man".

That was easy, so now let’s pick it apart!

Traditionally, lions are symbols of nobility, courage, strength, and protection. Leander has a reputation for being That Guy; he’s a leader, a protector of the masses, etc etc. for all intents and purposes, Leander really is a lion of a man!

…On the surface at least. Because under all the symbolism, lions are still predators, no matter how noble.

[its-not-that-weird-blog]

On the wrong foot

Matt Rempe x Reader

Summary: Maybe starting off on the wrong foot wasn't as bad as everyone thought…

Warnings: A little angsty but nothing to bad, enemies to lovers.

A/N: Due to the lack of Matt Rempe´s fics, here you have one, hope you guys like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language :) Let me know what you thought about this little fic

2.8k words

Being an intern for the New York Rangers has its ups and downs. Some positive aspects are that you get to do what you like (having fun on social media and forcing the players to make TikToks) and having free access to all the games in the season. All of that makes you grateful for this amazing opportunity, but there is one thing that makes this job unbearable..

And that is Matt Rempe, a cocky, 6'7" rookie who acts like he has the entire world in the palm of his hand. His arrogance and overconfidence make every interaction with him a challenge. He struts around the locker room, flaunting his height and abilities, often disregarding the efforts of those around him. His constant need for attention and validation only adds to the frustration, making what could be an amazing experience a bit of a nightmare.

Y/N and Matt started off on the wrong foot, meeting under the worst possible circumstances. It was the worst day of Y/N´s entire life. She had woken up late, throwing off her entire morning routine, and had to rush out the door without even grabbing a quick breakfast. Her day only got worse as she hurried to catch the train, only to miss it by mere seconds. By the time Y/N finally made it to the rink, she was frazzled, starving, and running on empty. That’s when she ran into Matt Rempe for the first time. Their initial encounter was less than pleasant, setting the tone for our strained relationship from the very start.

“You know this is a private practice, right?” Matt asked the poor frazzled girl.

“Yes, I am very aware of that,” she answered, chuckling. “You must be Matt, right? The new rookie?” Y/N asked, looking up at the lanky, very tall boy standing in front of her.

“Yeah, I mean, hard for you not to know, I guess... And you are?” Matt trailed off.

Y/N was taken aback, mainly because the team directors always made sure to let the new guys know who worked in what, especially in the media and marketing department.

“Oh, umm… I’m Y/N, one of the media interns,” she replied with a tight-lipped smile.

Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Media intern, huh? So, what do you do? Take pictures and post tweets?”

“Actually, I manage the team's social media accounts, coordinate player interviews, and create content for our marketing campaigns,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite her irritation. “It’s a lot of work and responsibility.”

“Right, sure,” Matt said dismissively. “Well, try not to get in the way.”

Y/N felt a surge of frustration but forced herself to stay calm. “I’ll do my best,” she said, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “And maybe you can try to remember who’s on your team next time.”

Matt smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

As he walked away, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mixture of anger and determination. She knew she had to prove herself, not just to Matt, but to everyone. This internship was too important to let one arrogant rookie ruin it for her.

She brushed it off, but it still annoyed her the audacity of that boy.

°°°°°°°°°°°

A few weeks had passed since their first encounter and it has been a constant fight between Y/N and Matt, mainly because of Matt’s attitude towards her. December rolled around and the team´s marketing director told the staff that they needed to do a promotional photoshoot to use during summer break.

It was a chilly Tuesday morning, and the team was gathered for the photoshoot at an outdoor rink. The bright sunlight reflected off the ice, creating a beautiful backdrop for the shoot. Y/N had been working tirelessly to ensure everything was set up perfectly: the lighting, the props, and the shoot schedule. 

Matt Rempe, on the other hand, seemed determined to test Y/N’s patience today. As the players gathered for their turn in front of the camera, Y/N called Matt over for his individual shots.

“Alright, Matt, let’s get started,” Y/N said, holding up a clipboard and checking the list. “We need you to do a few action poses first, then we’ll get some close-ups.”

Matt strolled over with a cocky and sarcastic grin. “Sure thing, but can I ask, why do we have to do this out in the freezing cold? Couldn’t you find a warmer spot?” Making his grin disappear and tuning his face into an annoyed frown

Y/N kept her professional demeanor. “It’s about the look we’re going for. The outdoor rink adds a unique touch to the photos. Plus, it’s only for a short while.”

Matt sighed heavily but positioned himself on the ice. As Y/N instructed him to perform a few drills and poses, Matt’s resistance became evident. He was slow to follow instructions, often taking a few extra seconds to reposition himself, and his expressions were lackluster at best.

Y/N tried to stay patient as she gave him clear directions. “Matt, please try to focus on the details of the poses. We need these shots to look sharp and engaging.”

Matt responded with a distracted nod but continued to make minimal effort. When Y/N asked him to adjust his stance, he grumbled, “I’m doing my best here, but this isn’t exactly my favorite way to spend an afternoon.”

Y/N took a deep breath, keeping her frustration in check. “Matt, I understand it’s not the most exciting part of the job, but it’s important for the team’s image. We need to get this right.”

Matt didn’t seem to take her seriously. He continued to make things difficult for everyone, giving half-hearted poses, shooting dirty looks at the camera, and maintaining his scowl. The photographer was visibly annoyed, and Y/N could feel the tension rising.

“Matt, if you can’t cooperate, we’re going to have to reschedule,” Y/N said, her voice firm.

Matt stopped his antics and looked at Y/N, realizing she was serious. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But can we make this quick? I’m freezing out here.”

With a reluctant nod, Y/N directed Matt through the remaining poses, this time with a bit more cooperation. Though his attitude was far from perfect, he made an effort to follow directions and get the shots done. Y/N was relieved to finish the session and hoped that Matt’s cooperation would improve with time.

Matt’s POV:

A few days after my awkward encounter with Y/N at the photoshoot, I was at the rink, trying to shake off the frustration of another rough practice. As I was heading to the locker room, Trouba stopped me in the hallway, looking a bit more serious than usual.

“Dude, you should leave poor Y/N alone,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re driving her crazy, and not in the right way.”

I raised an eyebrow, confused. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything that bad.”

“Really?” Jacob replied, his tone indicating he was unimpressed. “I’ve seen you giving her a hard time. She’s not just some intern; she’s part of the team’s media and marketing department. You’re making it difficult for her to do her job.”

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal. I thought I was just being straightforward.”

“It’s not about being straightforward,” Jacob explained. “It’s about showing some respect. She’s working hard behind the scenes, and she’s under enough pressure already. You don’t want to be the guy who makes things worse for her.”

I sighed, realizing he had a point. I hadn’t thought about how my behavior might be affecting Y/N. “Alright, I get it. I’ll try to be more considerate.”

Trouba nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good. Trust me, it’ll make things easier in the long run.” He started walking back toward the locker room but stopped and turned around to face me again. “And if you have a crush on her, that second-grade bullshit needs to stop.” He winked at me before finally leaving.

As Trouba walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to make things right with Y/N. It was clear that my attitude needed to change, and I had to start finding a way to work with her, not against her.

And maybe Jacob’s right; I might have a little—just the tiniest—crush on Y/N. She’s a gorgeous, smart, and driven girl, and because of my little game, she probably won’t give me the time of day. But first things first, I need to turn around the relationship we currently have, or rather, the lack thereof.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The next day, Matt found himself lingering outside the media office, trying to figure out how to approach Y/N. Apologizing wasn't something he was used to, especially when he wasn’t sure how she’d react. But he knew he had to start somewhere.

Y/N was at her desk, headphones on, focused on editing a video from the previous game. She hadn’t noticed Matt standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat, causing her to look up in surprise.

“Oh, hey,” Y/N said, pulling off her headphones and sitting up straighter. “What’s up?”

Matt rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward. “Hey, I just wanted to talk to you about the other day. You know, at the photoshoot.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly curious where this was going. “Okay…”

“I realize I’ve been a bit of a jerk,” Matt admitted, his voice slightly strained. “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you, and I’m sorry for being difficult.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by his sudden apology. It was the last thing she expected from him. “Well, that’s… unexpected,” she said, not quite sure how to respond. “But I appreciate it.”

Matt nodded, feeling a small weight lift off his shoulders. “I know I’ve been giving you a hard time, but I want to make it up to you. Maybe we can start over?”

Y/N studied him for a moment, searching for any signs of insincerity. To her surprise, Matt seemed genuinely contrite. “Alright,” she said finally, offering a small smile. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Relief washed over Matt, and he smiled back. “Great. Maybe I can help out with some of the social media stuff, or anything else you need?”

Y/N chuckled, the idea of Matt willingly helping with TikToks and Instagram posts was amusing. “We’ll see about that,” she said teasingly. “But I’ll definitely let you know if there’s anything you can do.”

Matt grinned, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. “Deal.”

As he left the office, Matt couldn’t help but feel a bit more relieved. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge Y/N, and maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to turn things around.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°|

Over the next few weeks, Matt made a conscious effort to be more cooperative and approachable, especially when it came to Y/N’s work. It wasn’t always easy—old habits die hard—but he was determined to keep his word. Slowly but surely, the tension between them started to ease.

Y/N, for her part, noticed the change in Matt’s behavior. He was still cocky and sarcastic, but there was a noticeable shift in his attitude. He wasn’t as dismissive or difficult as before, and he even started to show some interest in the work she was doing. It was a refreshing change, and it made her job a little less stressful.

One day, as they were wrapping up a content planning meeting, Y/N decided to take a chance. “You know, Matt, we’re shooting a new series of TikToks next week,” she said casually. “We could use a player who’s good on camera… Interested?”

Matt smirked, recognizing the playful challenge in her voice. “Oh, so now you need my help?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “Only if you’re up for it.”

Matt pretended to think it over, then nodded. “Alright, I’m in. But only if you promise to make me look good.”

Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to take direction without any complaints this time.”

“Fine,” Matt agreed, holding out his hand. “Shake on it?”

Y/N shook his hand, feeling a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory, but it felt like a step in the right direction. Maybe, just maybe, this internship wouldn’t be so unbearable after all.

And as for Matt? Well, he found himself looking forward to working with Y/N a lot more than he’d expected.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

As the weeks passed, the collaboration between Y/N and Matt grew smoother, and so did their relationship. They began to banter more playfully, their exchanges losing the tension they once had. Y/N started to see a different side of Matt, the side that wasn’t all arrogance and bravado, but someone who was actually fun to be around. 

Matt, too, couldn’t help but notice how much he enjoyed spending time with Y/N. Her sharpness, her determination, and the way she handled everything with grace under pressure all intrigued him. The more he got to know her, the more he found himself wanting to be around her.

One evening, after a long day of content creation and practice, Y/N was finishing up some last-minute edits in the media room. The office was quiet, with most of the staff having gone home. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice Matt walk in.

“Hey,” Matt’s voice broke the silence, startling Y/N slightly.

“Oh, fuck!” Y/N yelped, “ Matt, you scared me!” she exclaimed, laughing as she turned to face him. “What are you doing here so late?”

Matt leaned against the doorframe, a small smile playing on his lips. “I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat. It’s been a long day, and I figured you could use a break.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. This was the first time Matt had ever suggested something like this. “Are you asking me out on a dinner date?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Matt chuckled, his expression softening. “Yeah, I guess I am. What do you say?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then smiled warmly. “Sure, I’d like that.”

They ended up at a cozy little diner not too far from the arena, the kind of place that felt welcoming and unpretentious. As they settled into a booth, the conversation flowed easily. They talked about everything, from their families and childhood memories to their hopes and dreams for the future.

For the first time, Y/N saw the genuine person behind the cocky exterior. Matt was funny, thoughtful, and surprisingly down-to-earth. The more they talked, the more she found herself drawn to him. 

And Matt? He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful Y/N looked when she laughed, or how her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. He realized that this wasn’t just a crush anymore, he was falling for her, and hard.

As they walked out of the diner, the night air cool and crisp, Matt felt a wave of nervous anticipation. He knew he didn’t want this night to end just yet.

“Y/N,” Matt began, stopping in front of her. “I know we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, but… I really like you. And I want to see where this could go.”

Y/N looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made her heart swell. “Matt, I like you too,” she admitted, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I wasn’t sure at first, but… you’ve shown me that there’s more to you than I thought.”

Matt took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “So… what now?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.

Y/N’s smile widened as she closed the distance between them. “Now,” she said softly, “we see where this goes.”

With that, Matt leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, sweet kiss. It was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if both of them were testing the waters. But as Y/N responded, the kiss deepened, filled with a warmth and affection that had been building between them for weeks.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, but smiling. Matt rested his forehead against hers, his arms wrapped around her waist.

“I’m really glad you didn’t let me mess this up,” Matt whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her eyes shining with happiness. “I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?”

Matt grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “Yeah, we really do.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the soft glow of the streetlights, it was clear that this was the beginning of something special—something neither of them had expected, but both of them were more than ready to embrace.

[nctnanajaemin]

my brother's bestfriend pairing: lee jeno x na!sister reader chapter five word count:1.8k warnings: mentions of nausea, vomiting but no detail, late/irregular period, pregnancy, reader has an anxiety attack. 

it's been about a month since jisung found out about you and jeno. that time in the car was the last time you and jeno slept together and he's barely spoken to you despite the both of you confessing your feelings.

you've been sick and exhausted the last couple of days, barely leaving your room. 

the guys are all downstairs yelling like usual. you pull the covers over your head, trying to drown out the noise so you can try and go back to sleep.

just when you are about to doze off, you hear a knock on the door.

"come in," you call out weakly, still keeping the covers over your head.

the door opens and shuts, the mattress dipping down next to you as someone sits down.

"you've been in here for days," chenle says, pulling the covers down to reveal your face. "what's going on?"

"i feel like crap."

chenle studies your face for a moment, his expression growing more concerned. "you look like crap." he reaches out to feel your forehead, checking for a fever.

"thanks a lot, chenle," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "just what every girl wants to hear."

"you don't seem to have a fever."

"i just feel weak and nauseous."

chenle hums in acknowledgment. "have you eaten anything today?"

"no. not yet."

chenle tsks, clearly not happy with your response. "you need to eat something. even if it's just toast or something light."

"i don't think i could keep anything down."

chenle sighs, running a hand through his hair. "so you have been throwing up?"

"yes."

"for how long?"

"about three days. i thought it was just a stomach bug or something, but i just can't shake it off."

chenle goes quiet for a moment, clearly lost in thought. "can i ask you something... personal?"

you nod, unsure of where this is going.

"when you and him hook up do you use a condom?"

"usually no."

"have you taken a pregnancy test?"

"no," you say quickly. "i told you, i thought it was just a stomach bug or something. plus, i'm on birth control, so the chances of that are slim."

"but not impossible," chenle points out. "when was the last time you had your period?"

"it's been a while, they are really irregular. "

"oh god. i think it would be worth taking a test just to rule it out."

you process chenle's words. the idea of being pregnant never even crossed your mind because you were on birth control. but now...

"can you get me a test?"

"yes," chenle says, standing up from the bed. "do you need anything else?"

you shake your head no, and he leaves the room.

your heart is racing, and you feel a mix of fear and anxiety. what if you're really pregnant? you haven't had an actual conversation with jeno in over a month. the only time he talks to you is if jaemin is in the room.

a few minutes later, chenle returns with a pregnancy test. he pulls the bag out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to you. "do you want me to stay or give you privacy?"

"stay please."

chenle sits down in the chair beside your bed as you take the box out of the bag and read through the instructions before going into the bathroom to take it.

you close the door behind you and take a deep breath. you follow the instructions, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the possibility of being pregnant.

after doing everything you have to, you place the test on the bathroom counter and go back into your room to wait the suggested three minutes.

"you okay?" chenle asks.

"i don't know."

chenle stands up and pulls you into a hug. "i'm here, okay? no matter what the result is, i'm here for you."

you cling to chenle, tears welling up in your eyes. "i'm scared, chenle."

"i know," chenle says, rubbing comforting circles on your back

after the longest three minutes of your life, the timer goes off. you pull away from chenle and walk back into the bathroom.

you pick up the pregnancy test and close your eyes, taking a deep breath before looking down.

when you open your eyes, two pink lines stare back at you.

you drop the test as if it's burned you, and it clatters against the floor.

"no, no, no," you whisper, feeling like your entire world is collapsing around you.

the room starts to spin, and your knees feel weak. you stumble backward and sit down on the edge of the bathtub, trying to catch your breath.

your breathing becomes more ragged and shallow, your chest feeling tight and constricted. you can hear your own heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears, drowning out all other sounds.

chenle appears in the doorway, looking worried. he takes one look at your face and knows everything.

he walks over to you and quickly kneels down in front of you. "hey, look at me."

you struggle to focus on him, your vision clouding with tears and dark spots.

chenle gently grips your shoulders, trying to get you to look him in the eye. "you need to breathe," he says firmly. "slow, deep breaths. follow me." he starts exaggerating his own breathing, inhaling and exhaling loudly, showing you how he wants you to copy him.

you try to mimic his breathing, but it's difficult because your chest still feels tight.

"just keep going, you're doing great."

it takes a few minutes, but slowly, your breathing starts to stabilize, and the chest tightness begins to ease.

you take a few more shuddering breathes before you finally feel like you can breathe normally again.

"th-that was the worst one I had in a while."

"are you okay?"

you nod weakly. "yeah."

chenle moves to sit down beside you. "do you want to talk about it?"

"it's just a lot to take in, and i don't know what to do."

chenle reaches out and takes your hand. "well, the first thing you need to do is talk to jeno."

"how am i supposed to talk to him. he's been avoiding me for over a month now."

chenle gives you a sympathetic look. "i'll force him to talk to you. most of the guys were napping when i came back from the store. do you want me to go down and get him?"

you hesitate for a moment before nodding your head. "yeah. i guess i should just get it over with now."

chenle gives your hand a comforting squeeze before getting up to go get jeno.

you stand up and grab the pregnancy test before walking back into your room.

you rehearse what you're going to say over and over again in your head while you wait, and eventually, there's a knock on your door.

the door slowly creaks open, and jeno steps into the room.

he shuts the door behind him and takes a step toward you. "chenle said you wanted to talk to me?"

"yeah, sit down. i have something important to tell you."

jeno looks at you for a moment before he sits down in the chair where chenle was previously. "what's going on? you don't look good."

"i've been feeling terrible for the past few days and i still haven't gotten my period."

"so what? you think you're pregnant?"

your hand trembles as you hold out the pregnancy test to him. he takes it and looks down at it for a moment, his eyes widening as he sees the two pink lines.

he looks back up at you. "how long have you known?"

"i just found out today. i took the test right before chenle came to get you."

jeno lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. he's silent for a few moments, clearly trying to process everything. "i knew i should have used a condom."

"is that seriously all you have to say?"

"well, what the hell do you expect me to say? we weren't even together, no one knew about us besides chenle and jisung, and jaemin is for sure going to fucking kill me when he finds out."

"i don't know. maybe something a little more sympathetic, considering the fact that i'm scared shitless right now and the only thing you're worried about is jaemin and the guys knowing about us."

"you think i'm not worried? i'm scared shitless too. i'm not ready to have a kid."

"you think i'm ready? i'm still in college. and how do I know that you aren't going to run away when things get complicated with the baby just like you did with me."

"i didn't run away. i just needed some space."

"some space," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "you've been ignoring me for over a month, jeno. i could barely get you to say more than two words to me."

"we had that talk, and then i was thinking and couldn't figure out what i wanted. I didn't want to end up hurting you."

you shake your head. "well, you hurt me anyway."

"i know, and i'm sorry. i've been feeling guilty for treating you like that, but now... now we have a whole baby to deal with."

the thought of the baby hits you both again.

"where do we even start?" you ask softly.

"first step is to see a doctor, get confirmation that you're actually pregnant and find out how far along you are."

the thought of going to the doctor makes your stomach churn, but you know it's necessary. "i'll make the appointment first thing in the morning."

"i'll go with you if you want me to."

"yeah. it'll be less terrifying if i have someone there. also i'm sorry for being such a bitch."

"you had every right to be upset. i've been a dick to you and i don't blame you for exploding like that."

"still, i shouldn't have been like that. my emotions are all over the place at the moment, and i took it out on you."

he walks over and sits down beside you, pulling you into a hug.

you sink into his embrace, burying your face in his shoulder. "i missed you."

"i missed you too."

--------------

the next morning rolls around and you were able to get into the doctors. you provided them with a urine sample and bloodwork and they told you that they would call later in the day with the results.

it's been a couple hours since then and now you are watching the guys play basketball in the driveway.

just as you are about to check your phone again, it buzzes with a call. you stand up and walk into the house.

"hello?

"hello, this is dr. kim. is this y/n?"

"yes?"

jeno walks into the living room and points towards jaemin's room. you walk in with him following, putting the call on speaker.

"i have the results of your urine sample and bloodwork. you are indeed pregnant and are about six weeks along. i'd like to schedule an appointment for you to come in for an ultrasound to get a more accurate estimate of your due date. would the same time and day work next week?"

"yes, same time next week is fine."

"okay, thank you. have a nice day and congratulations."

"thank you."

the doctor ends the call and you immediately hug jeno.

"we'll figure everything out. don't worry."

chapter four | chapter six

-----------------------

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[stitching-in-time]

Finally caught up on Star Trek: Prodigy, and I truly think it's the best of the new Star Trek series. It has the strongest first season of any Trek show since Voyager, and it both respects the Star Trek universe and expands on it beautifully.

As an animated series, it has a grand scale and visual beauty that's unmatched in all of Star Trek. This show is breathtakingly gorgeous! All the design work is top notch; the character designs especially are truly different and unique and completely break the 'basically humanoid aliens with bumpy foreheads' mold.

For all that people seem to ignore it because it's a kids show, I think it has the strongest and most thoughtful writing of all the new Trek shows. The premise of child slaves escaping a mining asteroid in a stolen Starfleet ship is actually the darkest of any Trek series, and there's as many heartbreaking moral dilemmas to chew over as any Trek series ever gave us. But it captures the optimistic, humanist spirit of Star Trek far better than a show like Picard does, because unlike that show, it's not trying to be dark to be edgy or cool, it's trying to be honest and to find hope and light amidst dark circumstances. Hope that a better future is possible is what made Star Trek edgy in the first place, and as the world gets more cynical, holding onto that ideal is infinitely more punk than cynicism could ever be. Prodigy gets that, and it respects the history and lore of Star Trek while building on it. It was clearly made by people who've actually seen Voyager, and actually know and like Captain Janeway, because what we see of her here feels like the Janeway I grew up with. It's like getting to see an old friend again, having new adventures, while still being the same person she always was.

I do like all the other new Trek series, except for Picard, and I feel like for the most part, they've been very strong, and in keeping with the spirit of Star Trek. But Prodigy has this special mix of being tied directly to the old stuff while adding something entirely new. The epic scale of the first season's story arc was amazing, it is one of, if not the, best season finales I've ever seen in all of Star Trek. I'm grew up on the 90s shows, which will always have my heart, but Prodigy is such a mind-blowing expansion of that whole universe, I'm honestly astounded and grateful that someone used my old faves to make this epic new thing, which hopefully will bring an entirely new audience to the old stuff.

Despite the fact that there's lots of deep lore references that us grown up Trekkies can pick out with delight everywhere, the story of the main protagonists is self contained, and doesn't actually need any previous familarity with Star Trek to understand. Since the main characters don't know what Starfleet or the Federation even is, the audience can discover that along with them. It's such a genius concept, and it works so well! I honestly cried watching the season finale, it wrapped up the season's worth of story and character development so well, and set things up for an exciting new season. The characters are so well defined and lovable already! It has humor, it has adventure, it has heart, it's a classic Star Trek found family story!

I just can't rave about Prodigy enough, it exceeded all my expectations and then some. Everyone who loves Star Trek, please go watch it! Everyone who loves animation, please go watch it! Especially if you love Captain Janeway and Voyager, please go watch it! I want as many more seasons of this show as I can possibly get, so we need to keep streaming it so Netflix sees how popular it is and decides to make more.

I guess I'm in the category of old Trekkies now, so believe me when I say this show is what Star Trek is all about! Please please please give it a chance and you'll love it too!!!

[qqueenofhades]

Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

[lambment]

Any tips on writing character dialogue and interactions? Love your art btw

Hiya and ty!! Im still learning myself, but I can explain to you my current process!

first step for me is imagining a situation (amusing or entertaining ideas) and I develop that Idea by picturing how the characters would react to the situation based on their personalities and what their motives/goals are. basic story stuff y'know. then I rlly start to think key moments with dialogue.

for flow of dialogue sake, I speak the entire comic outloud several times. this helps with pacing, and lets me know if it feels natural or awkward. I like to imagine conversation between characters like a tennis match: reacting, defending, attacking, back and forth.

but as an example, this is my thought process on making character interactions in the Mawwige comic (X):

situation: "wow it'd be funny to explore the lamb trying to immediatley marry Narinder after usurping him."

so knowing that, I ask: what are the characters thinking and feeling in that moment based off of three things : personality, motive, and their experiences/backstory. how would the dialogue btwn the characters bounce off of one another, based on all the information given.

Lambert: is sly, always looking for a punchline, backhanded. motive: wants to marry Narinder (whether as a joke or fr, youll never know), clearly holding a grudge still, shown through them being unsympathetic to narinder having a meltdown.

Narinder: is an asshole, but in this situation, he's locked in a stupor. all he can think about is how he lost his life's work. he's out of it, he does not have a fucking clue what the lamb is transpiring in the background.

based off all of that information, I make the bits + dialogue:

Narinder being shellshocked by the usurpment, contrasted by Lambert unphased and wanting to move on and get to their wedding.

the wedding being planned for months, despite not knowing if Lambert would actually beat Narinder.

Narinder being the last one to find out hes a bride. He’s prideful but a little dense, and the lamb knows that.

the lamb is hinting at the wedding the entire time, literally handing him a veil and wedding pamphlet, and doing it as smugly as possibly.

the sundial watch bit, because I needed the lamb to get them both from the summoning circle to the temple "oh we gotta get going".

the crown objecting because its homophobic hates narinders guts.

I hope this helps? this process isn't linear with finding dialogue, its a lot of back and forth and I usually change the dialogue/ add bits as im in the process of drawing the comic.

[couldyouimagine-that]

Shattered Glass

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 2.1k

Warnings; mention of nightmares, talk of injuries (reader removes glass from Lucifer’s wing, not explicitly described)

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Lucifer goes to the reader for help with an injured wing and the reader shows him some kindness despite everything. Lucifer makes an attempt at reciprocating it.

This is the longest piece I’ve written in a while and I had a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

You were laying on top of your bed in the bunker, a drink in hand and trying to read something to distract yourself from everything which was going on. It was easier said than done, but you were planning on going to sleep soon and you wanted to calm yourself first to have the best chance of getting actual rest, rather than just a series of nightmares. Too many times had you ended up alone in the kitchen at some ungodly hour wishing your brain would stop sabotaging you. But not tonight; you had decided.

A knock at your door interrupted your efforts, though you assumed it was nothing dire from the lack of urgency. You called out that it was okay to come in, expecting Dean or Sam, or even Castiel at a stretch. What you got was Lucifer.

He offered a slightly sheepish grin as you sat up, book forgotten and mouth open slightly in shock. He slid through the open door and closed it behind him, leaning back against it and keeping a hand on the handle. You blinked a few times, mind whirring as you tried to decide what was going on.

“Can I help you?” You settled on at length when he made no move to speak. His gaze on you was intense, his jaw tightening.

“Actually, yes. See I have this problem.” You stayed still as he began to walk over to you, steps slow and hands clearly devoid of weaponry. Not that he would need any, but it was at least slightly reassuring. “When we were fighting those demons earlier, I used my grace to torch the last few. Remember?” You nodded that you did. “Well, when I use my grace, my wings manifest in shadow. And that’s usually fine.”

By this point, he was standing right next to your bed. You had to crane your neck to look up at him and found that his eyes were still locked on yours. He made a sweeping gesture with the hand closest to your bed.

“May I?” You thought rapidly, but with no knowledge of what this was about, you had no idea what was for the best. You ended up just scooting back a little to give him more space, though you were sure you should have simply kicked him out by now. Dean would be running for the archangel blade right that second if he knew. But he didn’t, and the light smile Lucifer offered you in thanks was not what you had been expecting. “This time though – well, it’s such a small thing it’s stupid.” You stayed quiet, watching him deliberate on what to say next. Thinking about why he was trying to avoid saying what he actually came here to say. Was he nervous? He took in sharp breath, muttering, “Right, just get it out.” Then, louder, “My power shattered a few windows behind me when I had my wings out. Some of the glass got stuck at the base of one of them and I can’t get it out myself, and I can't heal it while it's still in there.” He looked at you expectantly, lips tight. You felt your eyes narrow a little in response, assessing him.

“And you want me to get it out?” He spread his hands in a motion you would have said meant thank god coming from any other being.

“Finally. Would you? You know what Sam and Dean are like. And Cassie, well… I just don’t think he would.”

Your jaw worked for a moment as you watched him. For you to do any kind of first aid on his wings, he would have to manifest them fully, which you didn’t even know was a possibility. You had spoken to Castiel about an angel’s wings more than once and from your conversations, you knew they were sacred. You were sure Lucifer wouldn’t treat his own wings carelessly, which meant that showing them to anyone, let alone allowing someone to touch them, required a great deal of trust. Even if this was the Devil who you were dealing with. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had chosen to trust you. He raised his eyebrows to encourage an answer when you didn’t immediately give him one. Still more than a little confused, you started nodding.

“Okay. I can do that.” You spoke slowly, but he seemed more than eager to just get it over with.

He offered you a cocky smirk that you were now certain was fake, before he turned away from you. You watched as he dropped his button up from his shoulders then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his back to you. Your gaze traced along the contours of his back and shoulders somewhat absently, until he glanced over at you.

“Get out of the way, I don’t want to knock you out.”

That was all the warning you got as blinding angelic light filled the room, leaving your eyes smarting. You squinted heavily, failing to regain your ability to see when you heard an exasperated sigh and felt a light, fleeting pressure on your forehead. Your vision cleared instantaneously, in time to see Lucifer’s retreating hand and then – his wings. They were pure white, near perfectly kempt in spite of everything he had been through and impossibly huge. You were sure you had gasped, barely able to comprehend that they practically reached across the whole room. The end primaries curved powerfully, almost as long as you were tall. And they looked heavy, but they melded seamlessly with Lucifer’s back and he seemed not to notice their weight at all. He felt the mattress shift as you kneeled behind him speechlessly, and he drummed his fingers sharply on the bedframe.

“Come on, Y/N, daylight’s wasting. Things to do-”

“They’re beautiful.” His frown was heavy. Your voice had been soft, filled with a quiet wonder he didn’t think he had ever heard from you. The weight of your gaze on him felt like a physical pressure, one he wanted to disrupt.

“They’re what?” His words were harsh as he turned to look at you, but you didn’t seem to care.

“Can I touch them?” Your eyes met his and there was that stupid soft voice again. He should have tried his luck with Castiel, he thought irritably as he turned his back to you once more, presenting silent permission. But your touch didn’t alight on the bloody base of the injured wing. Instead, you ran your fingertips along the top edge of the other one, your touch sickeningly light. He actually bared his teeth with the effort it took not to shudder, swearing at himself silently. He was the Devil! He had lived for eons, he had survived everything that had ever been. And here he was, reduced to nothing by simple touch.

Your hand returned to the muscle near the base of his wing, your movements growing more confident. You lightly wound your fingers between the shorter coverts until your nails grazed the skin beneath, combing your fingers downwards like you would through someone’s hair. And you stopped short at the clipped, low noise Lucifer emitted. Your hands flew to his shoulders on instinct as you leaned forwards to see his face.

“Oh my god I’m sorry, did I hurt-”

You froze yet again, this time in surprise. He met your eyes with a lidded gaze, his chest heaving. He actually had to swallow before he could speak.

“They’re sensitive,” Lucifer ground out, cursing everything in all of creation for the situation he had put himself in, the weakness he had shown to you. You, a human of all things! At least if Castiel had agreed to help, he would have just gotten the job done and left. Or left the glass in place, Lucifer supposed. That was an option too.

You suddenly seemed to realised that you had your hands on his bare shoulders and you lifted them quickly, shrinking back a little. You looked unsure of yourself.

“Sorry, I – I’ll just get on with it. Sorry.” Your words were mumbled as you ducked behind his back and out of the way of his eyes. A few minutes ago, you would have been surprised by how minor the wound was. You would have been more surprised by the hiss which issued forth when you fished out the few small pieces of glass, but you understood now how much it had to have hurt. Uncertain yet again, you laid a flat palm to the area above the injury.

“That’s it, you’re done,” you told him, and immediately a little bit of that angelic light shone around the wound. When it was gone, so was the blood and the damage.

A beat passed. Your hand was still on his wing and he hadn’t moved yet, and neither one of you wanted to speak. It was on impulse and at the risk of a slow, painful death that you cautiously moved your touch back up to the leading edge of his wing. You couldn't help but be enraptured. Your fingers curled over the top and applied a gentle pressure as you ran your hand along in the direction of the feathers, their soft give like the cool scales of a serpent. The whole wing jolted when you reached the joint halfway down, and you could feel the outline of the lightweight bones which held so much power. Transfixed as you were, you had forgotten exactly what was sitting in front of you.

Lucifer’s wings snapped tight to his back as he stood without warning, and you threw yourself backwards to avoid getting hit in the face.

“Enough,” he warned, though his voice was ragged. He flicked a hand and the bloodied glass you were still holding vanished, leaving you to slowly sit up from where you had caught your weight on your elbows. He snatched up his clothes and made for the door without another word, but you scrambled to follow.

“Lucifer, wait,” you tried, struggling to cross the room before he reached the hallway. You laid a careful hand against his back before he could leave, over the ridge of his spine. Nowhere near his wings. And for the moment, at least, he paused. “You know I won’t use this against you,” you breathed, nervous of the implied loyalty behind your words in spite of everything he had done. “Right?” You couldn’t help feeling a little sick when he didn’t answer. Even though it was Lucifer, even though he had killed and tortured and tormented for longer than you could comprehend, he had needed help, and he had trusted you enough to make himself vulnerable to you in order to get it. You didn’t want him to leave thinking you would throw something like that back in his face, no matter what he had done.

When he still didn’t speak, you made yet another decision that you were sure would have bad consequences and leaned forward to wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back in the space between his wings. They drew in tighter still, stiffness radiating from them.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

You went to move back but his hand caught your arms before you could. He felt sure that you would betray him when the time came, but right now, you were the one in danger. You had no weapon that could harm him and you were trying to show him trust in return for his own. A human taking a risk like that with him, he could appreciate.

Lucifer angled a wing over your head so he could turn to face you, his arms encircling your shoulders and upper back and holding you to him. He knew you were being sincere, so for once he just let himself enjoy the moment. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had wanted to be so close to him in such a soft capacity, if it had ever happened when the other person had known who he truly was. You were nervous, yes, but you slowly relaxed into his hold and he allowed his wings to stretch out to a more natural resting position in turn. It was when he realised that your eyes were closed and you were leaning your bodyweight against him that he decided it was time to go.

You almost face planted into the ground when the archangel simply ceased to be present, barely catching yourself against the door. A brief jolt of fear shot through you when you thought over what you had done, but you quickly decided - or at least hoped - that it wouldn't matter too much in the long run.

[strayheartless]

Okay, I’m just sounding ideas here and don’t come at me from behind with a baseball bat or anything…

But do we maybe think that Angeal made the situation in the training room worse? Now I’m not saying Angeal’s to blame and I wanna caveat this entire ramble with the admission that I’m not even sure about this take. However, I was thinking about the actual situation like I was breaking down frames of a film (👋🏻 yoohoo! Film degree!) and when you look at it this:

(Credit for clip: Shirrako on YouTube)

It’s Angeal’s sword that breaks. Now, again, not blaming Angeal, Genesis was being Genesis and the whole thing wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t challenged sephiroth. But there is a line of thinking that suggests that it is Angeal’s lack of trust in his friends that exacerbates the situation.

Fanon aside, there is nothing actually in text that suggests that Genesis and Sephiroth have ever actually taken it too far. Actually apart from that one e-mail from Kunsel:

"It seems every SOLDIER 1st Class has a quirkor three, but I think Angeal has a lot ofcommon sense and is a trustworthy fellow.Let's face it: Genesis never found groupactivities appealing, so Angeal is, in fact,the spiritual leader of SOLDIER.I've got a lot of respect for him, too.And I envy you for getting to work with himso often."

(Source: Fandom Wiki, Final Fantasy Wiki: Mail (crisis Core))

there is nothing at all about Genesis' personality before the accident and degredation at all. We can make general guesses based on what we see of Genesis before that innitial wound, but over all, we do not know. So, why does Angeal stop them?

The obvious answer to this is because Genesis and Sephiroth are literally destroying the training room, he even says "You'll destroy this place," but they've done this before according to Sephiroth and theres no point at shich either of them actually manage to hurt the other. Even when Genesis encases Seph in a ball of fire, he doesn't hurt him, and their swords never aim for flesh.

it would be very easy for Sephiroth to exploit Genesis' weakness' and aim for his vulnrablites.

(credit for clip: Shirrako on YouTube)

As we can see in the above frame, Genesis leaves his left side virtually unguarded. His body is turned to favor his right side, he is quite clearly teligraphing a weakness that Sephiroth does not exploit once. Why? perhaps its hubris, perhaps its trust; who is to say, but what is clear is that, despite the destruction, neither are going to hurt each other.

The problem arises, then, when Genesis allows himself to grow overconfident. He legitimately blasts Angeal out of the fight and goes to defeat Sephiroth himself. Angeal is perhaps alerted to the fact that Genesis has lost some sort of control, but concidering there is not a scratch on either of them, he possibly didn't need to.

What I like about this line of thought is that it works hand in hand with the actual story itself. at the crux of everything it is not just Genesis and Sephiroth to blame for how events unfold, Angeals actions have a greater impact on everything.

When Angeal chooses to get in between the two he is the deciding blow that hurts Genesis, yet it is Sephiroth who is blamed for Genesis' sickness.

When Genesis storms the Shinra building it is Angeal who has left Sephiroth in the dark without answers; yet it is Sephiroth and Zack who have to pick up the pieces after it ends.

in Banora it is Angeals inaction that places Zack in danger and ends with the distruction of his home.

and the most obvious, Angeals death is not just defining for Zack but for Sephiroth too. While it is not talked about in text, Angeals death leaves Sephiroth vulnrable to Genesis' ire, and his own relationship to honour and monstrosity that affects Sephiroth's perseption of himself.

Angeal's decision to not allow Genesis and Sephiroth to come to their natural conclusion creates a consistant feeling of unfinished business. The ultimate question here is, would either Genesis or Sephiroth truly hurt each other. Had Angeal not intervened with his flimsy Shinra issue Claymore (possibly representative of his own morality and honour) Would Genesis have been wounded and would he have felt robbed of the title of hero?

This is all just conjecture and shaky soundboarding. If you have any opinions please feel free to share!

As always be kind and please don't yell or be mean (I am only a little critter I will cry!)

[444takeomi]

YOU’RE PERFECT

: ̗̀➛ summary: your boyfriend always seems to know how to make you feel better when you're insecure

character(s): shinichiro sano

warnings: female reader, nsfw, unprotected sex, mentions of body image issues and insecurities, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, mating press, creampie, mirror sex, love-making, praise, dirty talk, lots of body worship, crying during sex, v v sappy

wc: 4.2k

a/n: this one took me quite a while to write as it's very personal to me, i still kinda hate how it turned out but i hope some of you can relate to it and find comfort in it as well. i tried to be as non-specific as possible when describing the reader’s insecurities so apologies if it comes across as a bit vague, i tried my best ahahah

it was another one of those days, one that had you looking at your own reflection and hating everything you saw in front of you.

feeling uncomfortable in your own skin wasn’t exactly anything new to you, having felt unsatisfied with the way you looked for as long as you could remember. with that being said, today in particular had left you feeling much worse about yourself than usual, and you found yourself unable to refrain from picking apart your entire appearance. despite your best efforts at reassuring yourself that you didn't look as bad as you thought, nothing you said was able to provide you with any sort of comfort — if anything you just felt even more hopeless.

it had come to the point where it was almost hard to believe that the person staring back at you in the mirror was actually you. the sight of your own body straight up disgusted you, and you just couldn't understand how it was possible for someone to be so hideous. it was hard to even look at yourself — had it always been this bad? you didn't even want to think about it.

the way your clothes clung to your body did nothing except highlight how blatantly disproportionate your features were, and you were starting to regret your choice of not opting for something baggier when you got dressed this morning. oversized clothing was the only thing that you felt suited you nowadays, the loose fabric swallowing up your figure and concealing all of your flaws, temporarily putting your mind at ease and making you forget about the hard reality of what was hiding under those clothes.

you really tried to distract yourself, to do anything other than spend the entire day wallowing in self-pity over something as superficial as your appearance, but your feelings of self-consciousness persisted no matter how hard you tried to ignore them, which led you to where you were now — clothes scattered across the floor as you stared at the reflection of your bare figure, managing to somehow find fault in every part of yourself.

you knew that your boyfriend shin was living proof that you were indeed worthy of love, but you often found yourself wondering if you were really good enough for him — he was so handsome and tall with such a perfectly toned body, and not to mention he was the most hardworking person you knew, and overall was just an absolute sweetheart who always put everyone else's needs before his own.

he was so wonderful, and you couldn't help but think he deserved someone so much better.

it made matters worse when you subconsciously started comparing yourself to all the other girls shin had asked out in the past, focusing on everything they had that you lacked, appearance or otherwise, and you couldn't help but notice how they all had one thing in common — how absolutely gorgeous they all were. you wondered if shin was just settling when he finally asked you out, it would make sense given the fact that all those girls were clearly far more attractive than you ever were.

shin always looked at you with nothing but adoration, and even if at times you were unable to understand exactly why, it was still clear that he loved you with all his heart. however, no matter how hard you tried to block it out, you always found yourself listening to that little voice in the back of your mind — the one that repeatedly told you how unattractive you were, that you weren’t deserving of love, that you weren’t good enough.

you were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear as your boyfriend came home from work and greeted you from downstairs, too preoccupied with the heavy feeling in your chest as you fixated on every imperfection you saw whilst you stared at your own reflection. shin was a little worried upon not hearing you answer him, used to your usual cheerful welcome as you paused whatever you were doing to give him a warm hug and ask him about his day.

he began searching the house for you, checking each room before making his way upstairs, just to make sure that you were okay. he opened the door to your shared bedroom, and you watched through the reflection of the mirror as he walked in, feeling the sudden urge to cover your body with your hands and hide yourself from his gaze.

shin’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight in front of him, and he couldn't help but whistle lowly as he took in your naked figure in its entirety. he looked you up and down, in complete awe as he wondered how someone could be so beautiful without even trying. he felt a little giddy at the thought of you doing this on purpose to surprise him, especially after he'd had such a long day at work. he could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he shamelessly checked you out, his mind beginning to wander as his dark eyes clouded with lust.

“damn, baby. what did i do to deserve all—” shin paused, abruptly cutting himself off upon seeing your saddened expression as you turned to face him, “hey, what's the matter, sweetheart?”

you shook your head at him, averting your gaze in hopes that he wouldn't see the tears that were beginning to well up in your vision.

“it's nothing, i’m fine,” you sniffled, fingers coming up to gently pat at the corners of your eyes, “i just want to be alone right now.”

you didn't want to lie to him, in fact you desperately wanted to tell him everything that was on your mind, wanted him to comfort you and reassure you like he always did whenever you felt like this. the last thing you wanted to do was push him away, but at the same time you knew that you couldn't keep doing this to him. it was obvious how tired he was after a hard day's work, and the last thing he needed right now was you burdening him with something as pathetic as your own insecurities, but here you were.

“no, you're not,” needless to say shin wasn't convinced, easily seeing through your rather weak attempt at hiding how you were truly feeling from him, “i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong.”

you sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat as you desperately tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. how could he be so perfect? he was always so kind and caring, so patient with you regardless of how exhausted he was after working so hard to provide for the both of you — you didn't know what you did to deserve him.

“why do i have to look like this?” you turned back towards the mirror, voice wobbly as you finally broke down crying, “i— no matter what i do i never feel good enough. i’m so sick of feeling like this, i just… i just wish i was pretty.”

“oh, sweetheart, come here,” shin came to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he looked at you through the reflection of the mirror with so much love in his eyes, “you know i think you're perfect the way you are, i just wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

shin was familiar with your insecurities, and he always tried his best to console you despite the fact he couldn't possibly understand why you felt so negatively about yourself. he hated seeing you like this, hated seeing you unhappy with the body he loved so much, it made his heart ache. he didn't know why you constantly talked down on yourself, didn't know how you could be so blind to your own beauty when it was so obvious to him.

he wanted to show you the way he felt about your body, wanted to make you feel loved and desired. he knew that while he wouldn't be able to completely alleviate your feelings of insecurity, regardless of how much he wanted to, he hoped that if he carried on showing you exactly how much you meant to him that in time you would start to realise just how amazing you were.

“shin, w–what are you doing?” you asked, voice faltering as you felt his hands beginning to caress your sides, before they came to rest comfortably on your hips.

your breath hitched in your throat as he began placing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders, his hands kneading the flesh beneath his palms, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch as your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a sigh of pleasure.

“showing you just how gorgeous i think you are,” he replied lowly, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “is that okay, baby?”

“shin, you don't have to,” you insisted, biting your lip as he began sucking a hickey onto the skin of your neck, “you've— aah— you've had a long day, you should rest.”

“want you so bad,” he mumbled against your skin, pressing his erection into the curve of your ass, “been thinking about you all day, please?”

his words were making you needier than you would've liked to admit, looking into his dark eyes through the mirror as you began imagining all the things he was going to do to you. shin always made you feel so loved during sex, worshipping every inch of your body and telling you just how beautiful you were. the thought of that alone made you squeeze your thighs together as you nodded, knowing that despite how self-conscious you were feeling, deep down you really needed that kind of treatment right now.

you let out a soft gasp as he picked you up, carrying you over to the bed and carefully laying you down before hungrily pressing his lips against yours. you melted into the kiss, a small whine escaping your throat as soon as he pulled away.

“shhh, let me take care of you, pretty.”

you felt as his lips softly brushed against the valley of your breasts, his dark hair tickling your skin. he looked up at you, smiling fondly as you turned your head away in an attempt to avert your gaze elsewhere, embarrassed by the intimacy of it all. shin took your hand in his, gently squeezing it in hopes of reassuring you a little, before his head dipped back down and he began peppering more kisses over the entirety of your chest, his other hand squeezing your waist before coming to cup one of the mounds of flesh in his palm.

“my baby’s got the prettiest tits, i'm a lucky guy,” he told you, taking your nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the hardened bud, his thumb running across the back of your hand that was interlaced with his own.

you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling too self-conscious to look at your own body as he touched you. as much as you tried to suppress them, several needy mewls and whimpers slipped past your lips as you softly ran your fingers through his hair. shin couldn't help but groan against your skin as he sucked your tit into his mouth, feeling his cock starting to leak in his pants as you arched your chest into him and the sounds of your sweet noises filled the room. once he was satisfied, he released your nipple with a pop, and you felt him eagerly switching to your other breast as he began giving it the same treatment.

after making sure both of your tits had been shown plenty of attention, he went back to kissing along your body, his lips trailing down your tummy as his hand came to gently rub and massage at your hip. you opened your eyes and immediately felt yourself stiffen — instantly noticing the way your stomach looked in your current position, and you just hoped that shin wasn't paying any mind to it.

your feelings weren't lost on him, he noticed the way you tensed up ever so slightly whenever he touched you in certain places, noticed the way your gaze seemed to land anywhere but his eyes. you were so easy to read, your reactions alone telling him everything he needed to know. shin couldn't help himself as he came up to kiss you once again, feeling the heat radiating from your face as his lips gently brushed against yours, before taking your hand that was still entwined with his and bringing it down towards the obvious tent in his pants.

“feel that? feel what your pretty body does to me?” he groaned, your fingers brushing against his aching cock, “you make me so fucking hard.”

you looked down shyly, feeling your face growing even hotter than it was already as you squirmed underneath him — his compliments and praises made your stomach flutter and goosebumps prickle across your skin.

shin made his way between your thighs, prying your legs apart as his lips began trailing sloppily along your skin, gently squeezing the soft flesh beneath his palms. you could feel yourself growing embarrassingly wet as you watched him, excitement beginning to pool in your gut as his dark eyes locked with yours and his mouth gradually made its way closer towards your awaiting heat.

“such a pretty pussy, m’gonna make you feel so fucking good,” he drawled, staring at you in awe before he started pressing open-mouthed kisses over your slit, splitting your folds apart with his tongue and groaning at the taste of your slick.

shin was entirely fixated on you as your face contorted in pleasure, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath as he took your clit between his lips, his mouth hungrily latching onto the swollen bud. one of your hands instinctively came up to cover part of your face, worried that your expression was off-putting and that you looked especially unattractive from this angle, but your boyfriend wasn't having any of it. he grabbed hold of your wrist, guiding your hand away and granting him a full view of your cute face, watching in infatuation as your brows furrowed and your mouth fell slightly agape.

he couldn't help but growl into you, the vibrations making you jolt in pleasure as you let out a squeal, feeling yourself throbbing against his tongue as you clamped your thighs around his head. shin lifted your legs over his shoulders, giving him complete access to you — he could feel himself slowly losing all remaining self-restraint as he proceeded to absolutely devour you. he continued to slurp at your clit, flicking his tongue over the nub and moaning loudly into your folds, unable to stop himself from humping the mattress below him when you began eagerly grinding your pussy against his face.

that familiar feeling started to build up in your gut, his mouth already drawing you towards your release. before you even had the chance to tell him you were close, you felt your orgasm rip through you, throwing your head back as your whole body tensed up and incoherent, broken whimpers of his name fell from your lips. both of your hands came to tangle themselves in his hair, rolling your hips against his face and practically suffocating him with your cunt as you rode out your orgasm.

once you had come down from your high, shin began stripping himself of his usual white t-shirt and jeans, and you watched as his gorgeous body was revealed to you in all of its entirety. you couldn't help but feel your thoughts of insecurity starting to resurface once again, overcome with the urge to hide yourself from him even after he had just been between your thighs. it didn't take long for shin to notice the way you suddenly began to shy away from him, and so he pulled you into another soft yet deep kiss, holding your face in his hands and gently caressing along your jaw as his lips moulded with yours.

after the two of you pulled apart, he briefly pressed his forehead against yours, his fingertips lightly brushing up and down your arm in a soothing manner, before his hands settled themselves on the backs of your thighs. he pushed your legs upwards and folded you in half, pressing his hardened cock against your pussy as he began to gently glide the head over your soaked folds, sliding the tip right against your sensitive clit. you cried out, your walls clenching around nothing as you clutched onto his shoulders, nails pressing crescent shapes into his skin.

“patience, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and softly nibbling on the flesh.

you felt as the tip came to rest at your entrance before he carefully slipped himself inside of you, his thick cock stretching you out and filling you to the brim. he let out a low grunt as you clamped down on him, biting his lip as he stilled himself inside of you and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“you're so beautiful, can't believe you're mine, my pretty girl,” he continued to murmur sweet praises against your skin, his hand interlocking with yours as he began thrusting into you.

“shin, i— mmmh! ahhh, please—!” you mewled, indistinct babbles and whimpers falling uncontrollably from your lips at the feeling of every inch of his cock dragging slowly against your walls.

“i know, baby, i know. just— fuuuck, just sit back and let me make you feel good, okay?”

it was all too much, but in the best possible way. everything just felt so right, from the feeling of his chest pressing against yours to the way he meticulously worked his hips into you at the perfect angle. a sweet slapping sound began to fill the room, alongside the combination of his needy groans and whines about how good you felt in your ear, mixed with your sobs of pleasure at the feeling of his pubic bone brushing against your clit. shin looked at you with so much love, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on — it made tears start to well up in your eyes, but this time they weren't from sadness.

in that moment you just felt so appreciated, to the point where all of your insecurities and self-critical thoughts momentarily left your mind as you completely lost yourself in pleasure, unable to think of anything else aside from how good it all felt. your boyfriend’s thumb came to wipe your tears away before his lips locked with yours, the pair of you moaning desperately into each other’s mouths as his thrusts picked up in pace, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked you deep.

shin was reluctant to break the kiss, addicted to the feeling of your lips against his in combination with your walls squeezing around his cock. however, the way his lungs were practically begging for oxygen didn't give him much choice in the matter, and he found himself gasping for breath as he pulled away, his eyes squeezed shut as his brows furrowed in pleasure. you reached upwards to hold his face in your hand, the other refusing to let go of his own as you interlaced your fingers together. shin leaned down to press his forehead against yours as his hips began to stutter, his pace faltering as he felt himself drawing closer to his own release.

“fuck— baby, m’gonna cum. gonna cum deep inside this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he growled, feeling as your walls clamped down on him at his words, “yeah, you like that? want me to cream inside this tight little cunt? fill you up nice and full?”

“mhm, yes please— ahhh! want your cum, shin, please don't stop, i— mmh, need to feel you…”

“that's my good girl. take it, take it— fuck, that’s it, baby. such a good girl for me.”

he finished with a few sloppy thrusts, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he fell over the edge, his hot cum shooting into you in several thick ropes. you could feel your clit throbbing as you clenched around him, the heat between your thighs continuing to grow as you watched shin ride out his orgasm.

his cock began to soften as he gently slipped himself out of you, watching intently as his cum dribbled out of your hole. he was well aware that he had reached his high before you did, eager to get you off again and bring you to another orgasm — tonight was supposed to be about you, after all. before you could oppose, he sat you at the edge of the bed with you in his lap, facing you towards the mirror so that you could look at yourself.

“wanna make you cum on my fingers, baby,” he mumbled into your ear, spreading your legs apart as his hand made its way between your thighs, “want you to see how pretty you are when you cum nice and hard for me.”

two of his digits circled your entrance before he slowly pushed them inside, taking note of how easily they slipped into you after having previously stretched you out with his cock. he began curling them upwards, softly massaging your g-spot while his other hand came to caress your waist, travelling down towards your hip and then back up again. shin placed several kisses along your neck before his hand suddenly picked up in pace, the heel of his palm smacking against your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you and a wet sticky sound proceeded to fill the room.

“look at you, so fucking gorgeous,” he told you, looking at you through the reflection in complete awe as his hand began roaming across your body, “so perfect here… and here… and right here, too.”

the more you stared at your own reflection, the more different you felt from earlier. your eyes no longer seemed to gravitate towards everything that you thought was wrong with you, and it was as if you were just simply seeing yourself as you were in that present moment, just existing within your body. you couldn't take your eyes off the mirror and suddenly you found yourself wanting to watch — wanting to watch him touch you, wanting to watch his hands trail over every part of your body, wanting to watch yourself fall apart because of him.

you wanted shin to watch too, how could you not when his eyes showed nothing but love and adoration for you and your body?

you could feel your legs beginning to shake and you found yourself frantically bucking your hips into his hand, your orgasm rapidly approaching as you grabbed onto his wrist and abruptly fell over the edge once again. you began gasping and whimpering as your vision turned white and you creamed all over his fingers, and shin watched your reflection in admiration as you came down from your high — the only thing he could think was how beautiful you looked in that moment as you completely let go, your eyes rolling back as you were consumed by pleasure.

once you had fully rode out your orgasm, shin gently removed his fingers from you, the two of you sitting in a peaceful silence knowing that words didn't need to be exchanged right away and you could just enjoy one another’s presence for a moment. he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as his lips brushed against your skin.

“are you feeling a little better now, sweetheart?” he asked you, finally breaking the silence.

“mhm, definitely,” you nodded, feeling yourself starting to smile, “thank you, shin.”

while you were aware that this feeling wasn't going to be permanent, and that there would still be days to come in the future where you would feel unsatisfied with your body again, you knew that if nothing else, your sweet boyfriend would always be there to help you slowly start to love yourself a little more.

“i should take a shower,” he pondered, unable to stop himself from grinning as he added, “care to join me?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to fight back a smile but ultimately failing as your expression mirrored his own and you nodded, feeling as he excitedly took your hand and led you towards the bathroom. the two of you stepped into the shower, the warm water running over your tired bodies as you helped wash away the sweat and cum from each other’s skin. as to be expected, you both found yourselves unable to keep your hands off each other, and one thing slowly led to another which ultimately resulted in the two of you fooling around once again, not that either of you were complaining.

and afterwards shin pulled you into his chest and just held you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he mumbled soft praises into your skin that were barely loud enough for you to hear. although there was one which you were just about able to make sense of, and you felt your heart flutter as you realised what it was that he had said to you.

“i love the way your body feels against mine.”

please do not translate, repost, or share my writing on any other platforms eg. tiktok

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪɪɪ. sɪʙʟɪɴɢ ᴀᴄǫᴜɪʀᴇᴅ

You get a new addition to your family, and all is right with the world.

(Hopefully nothing from the next chapter ruins this for you haha.)

Watching Mum trip over herself to follow Mother around and tend to her every, little need was pretty funny at first.

But now you (unfortunately) have no right to laugh anymore, because as it turns out, learning that you're going to be an older sibling in just a few months really puts certain things into perspective, and now you're basically doing the same thing (although you at least had the dignity to be a lot more subtle about it, Mum.)

You don't know why, as you can't recall ever acting like this when your siblings from your first life came along, but everything just suddenly seems like a threat. For every sharp corner Mother passes by, you're quick to reach your hand over to cover it in case she gets close enough for contact. When you catch her going up or down the stairs, you're already rushing to her side to offer out a hand in support.

Yes, Mother of course laughs at all of this, and makes sure to tease you for doing the very things you laughed at your Mum for, but you can tell from the fondness in her smile and the bright twinkle in her eyes that she genuinely does appreciate all of the effort you and Mum were putting in to ensure her and the baby's comfort and safety—even if the measures Mum took could be pretty ... excessive.

("I can understand sanding down the corners of our dining table, but there is absolutely no way I'm letting you put carpets over the walls. I think Mother would actually kill me if I let you."

"You weren't there when it happened, [Y/n]! What if the next time she bumps into a wall, she pushes her baby bump back in?!"

"Mum of mine, I do not believe that is physically possible."

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?!"

"MAYBE BECAUSE ONE OF US WAS LUCKY ENOUGH TO INHERIT THE INTELLIGENCE I CLEARLY DIDN'T GET FROM YOU!")

Yeah, just thinking of all the times you've had to be the voice of reason between you and your Mum despite being the actual child between the two of you was enough to give you a headache. And the more Mother's stomach grows, the worse it gets.

At this point, I'm starting to believe that someone's gonna have to hold Mum's hand when the baby comes.

The thought makes you pause, ponder for a bit, and then cringe.

Poor nurse.

Other than Mum's (and admittedly, yours) overprotective tendencies, though, you're happy to report that Mother's pregnancy is going fairly well. From the visits your little family makes to the hospital every now and then, your younger sibling seems to be developing fine, and has been repeatedly reported as quite healthy, to your family's relief, pride, and joy.

What gets you all feeling really joyful, however, is the doctor revealing that the baby's gender can finally be determined.

"Wait!" Mother stops him before he can say anything else. "Don't tell us just yet! I want it to be a surprise!" she insists.

"Wha—a surprise?" Mum repeats, clearly confused. "You didn't want it to be a surprise last time!" she complains.

Penelope rolls her eyes at the childish tone in her wife's voice and takes her hand. "I know, which is why I want it to be a surprise this time," she explains. "Besides, you wouldn't want to turn down a cake, would you?"

When Mum only answers with silence, it's pretty easy for you and the doctor to guess who won.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three weeks of anticipation later, the gender reveal cake is delivered on your doorstep in a white box by a teenage girl with short, curly brown locks.

"Hope you folks like it," she says with a wink once the package is placed into your arms. "It took a whole lotta effort keeping it in tact, driving it all the way out here."

Her words cause a semi-guilty smile to grace your features. "Right. Sorry about that," you say, and you really do mean it; you couldn't imagine having to deliver a cake somewhere so far out in the country, especially with only a rusty old vespa as your noble steed.

The girl only laughs good-naturedly and ruffles your hair. "No need to apologize, kiddo. Hope ya'll enjoy the cake!" she says.

With that, she turns around to leave, but not before throwing back a quick, "Congratulations!" over her shoulder in reference of who exactly the cake was made for.

Thus, with the cake now in your possession, you bring it into the dining room, where Mother and Mum are already waiting in their designated seats at the table.

"She seemed nice," Mother comments, obviously referring to the delivery girl you'd just spoken to.

You hum, telling her, "She was," before setting the box down and opening it.

The cake is, as the delivery girl said, indeed in tact, and covered in frosting and all sorts of fruits to keep whatever flavor the cake itself was hidden.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Mother says, clapping her hands with a giddy smile on her face. "Anyone already have any guesses?" she asks, looking over to her wife.

Mum hums and holds her chin in thought for a moment before eventually settling on: "Strawberry."

Nodding, Mother then turns to you and lifts her brows expectantly.

With an amused huff, you sit down in your own chair just as Mum rises out of her own to grab three plates and a knife. "You know what? I'm thinking strawberry, too," you decide.

Tilting her head curiously, Mother leans back in her seat and begins to caress her stomach. "May I ask why?" she inquires.

You shrug. "Just a feeling, I guess," you answer.

The conversation ends after that, as Mum is finally prepared to cut the cake.

"Alrighty, then," she begins once yours and Mother's attention is fully on her. "Here we go."

Setting the knife down for only a moment, Mum pulls the box's walls all the way down—not just to make cutting the cake easier, but to also give you and Mother a clear view of it from your positions, as well.

With that said and done, Mum picks the knife back up and inhales deeply, obviously hyping herself up for what's about to come. It feels a little silly, getting this anxious over a cake, but there's still this sort of tightness in your chest that makes it only a little hard to breathe. Is it anticipation? Dread of the inevitable? A mix of both?

In the end, it doesn't matter, because then a knife is slicing right through frosting and—

"Strawberry," Mum breathes, a triumphant grin slowly beginning to overtake her face. "Looks like we're gonna be welcoming a little girl into our family next."

You and Mother throw your hands into the air and cheer.

(Later that night, the bakery your cake had come from gets a call from you to let your delivery girl know that you folks did, indeed, enjoy the cake.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It is midnight when Mother's water breaks and Mum practically throws you into the car to drive you all off to the hospital.

It is about three in the morning when you get to leave the waiting room at last and see the labor (pun intended) of your Mother's work.

The baby is small—probably the smallest person you've ever seen—and, unlike you, takes a lot after Mum with her dark skin and soft tufts of platinum blonde hair.

"Oh," you say out loud without meaning to, eyes wide as you take in the infant held in Mother's arms. I'm an older sibling.

You knew you would be one for a while now, of course, and actually were one in your previous life, too. But ... there was just something about this moment: about seeing the little person that's been growing in Mother's stomach finally out and about in the real world, her eyes closed and her face all scrunched up, that had your chest exploding with an overwhelming warmth and your eyes threatening to flood with tears that you were desperately trying to keep in.

(Spoiler alert: you fail. Badly.)

"Hello, little love," Mother says, sounding so exhausted but still so happy at the same time. "Would you like to hold your baby sister?" she asks.

Still in shock at the sight of her, you can only manage a nod and then stare dumbly as the baby's handed over to rest in your arms.

"Um." You blink, mouth slightly agape. "Oh, wow."

(Across from you, Willow snorts.)

You watch, absolutely captivated, as the infant's chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. But then her face twitches, and your eyes automatically lift to watch as it scrunches up. It awes you, almost, the way she seems to struggle simply opening her eyes, but then her stare meets yours and it's like a puzzle clicks into place.

"Hey there, little sister," you greet, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so happy to meet you."

Your sister babbles, unable to properly respond, obviously, and reaches up. Almost instinctually, you lift her higher, allowing her to reach your face and pat her small palms wherever she can, still babbling like you can understand every noise and gurgle.

You laugh and nod along anyway and pretend not to notice the tears you'd failed to hide.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're gonna rule the world someday."

Your newly acquired sister, Odette (named after one of Mother's favorite stories, Swan Lake) looks up at the sound of your voice and tilts her head. It's been two months since her birth, and in those short months, you've learned that although Ody (the nickname you proudly bestowed her with the moment you thought of it) takes a lot after Mum, she is most definitely every bit of Penelope's daughter just as you are without a doubt Willow's child.

While you had inherited most of Mum's, er ... impulsiveness, Odette had the good fortune of inheriting Mother's patented Stare of Judgement™, which you had the honor of seeing it in action yourself ... because Odette had focused it on you and Mum when you both attempted to do something stupid that was very safe, creative, and fun.

(That's what you tried telling Mother, at least.

She didn't fall for it for even a second and the two of you got sent to timeout in the living room again.)

Odette babbles, snapping you out of your train of thought, and you smile down at her as you start running your hand through the platinum cloud that's been growing atop her head.

"Man, look at all this," you say, curling a strand of Odette's already curly hair around your finger. "At this point, your hair's gonna end up bigger than your head," you joke.

Odette babbles again in response and takes your free hand in between her smaller ones to play with your fingers, making your smile grow into a grin.

"Oh yeah; definitely queen of the world material." You nod. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to be there with you every step of the way. Who else's hands are you supposed to play with?" you ask.

"Ababa?" Odette blinks up at you.

You nod once again. "Exactly!"

She stares at you for a moment, as if processing your words, and then looks away to return her full attention to your hand. You chuckle, amused by just how much personality Odette could convey despite not knowing how to properly speak yet.

"Man ..." Turning your head to gaze out the window, you smile as you watch the trees dance to the wind outside. "I didn't think it'd be possible, Odie, but I ... think I'm more than a little used to this life now, y'know?"

The infant blows a raspberry.

You laugh. "A wise queen, too!"

(Outside, the wind howls, and as it does, a single orange leaf falls to the forest floor.

So it appears, the seasons have finally begun to change.)

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