#-though it might not be entirely healthy cause he's... himself LOL

[sorrowfulsidekick]

▸ // A gasp, soft and low, to the start of the other’s answer. Every logical conclusion yelled that the one before him was literally different, that hurt emotional core remained as illogical as always. Was he truly that forgettable? The other boy he apparently loathed so much didn’t remember him, just as the world forgot him, or even he himself…

…

▸ // A familiar nausea clung to him, a panic almost took hold, until the words continued, practically knocking the fennec upside the head. ‘ Cool ’ ? Back straightens, The comment a jolt to the system, forcing waning focus back to reality. Chewing ceases, distracted as wide eyes threaten to fall from sockets.

“ I uh– You think I’m…? ”

▸ // As sodden, rice covered, cheeks grew rosy there was no denying the flash of restrained joy- a soft light returning to lifeless eyes for just a moment, fleeting before features fall, shadowed once more as shoulder slump. That downcast gaze observes dirt riddled gloves. Fingers twitch as if calculating an answer; counting. Each day a finger, lifting and lowering in attempts to recall. After a round or two he clearly loses count, doubting himself as the time and events blurred.

Then he goes still, once busied fingers curl together into fists.

“ No. This is just like before. ”

▸ // Hostility coil itself with each word, they come out unbalanced and weak in a twist of sluggish anger.

“ What do you care? No one ever cares. E-everytime anyone’s been nice it’s always because they want something. “ He scoffs with a shake of his head. Though his words were fiery and his guard strengthened one could note how odd it was that his weapon remained inactive at his back, leaving him uncharacteristically open.

“ So, then, w-what do you want ? “

— ;; Recalcitrance swiftly turns to acquiesce, and as he watches the other gorge brazenly. Of course, he’s filled with a sense of relief at the sight, but his heart twinges with sorrow all the same. How long, he wonders, has it been since the poor kid’s last meal? Curtailed, he sees himself, young and helpless, sitting there scarfing down any kind of sustenance he could scrounge up after running out of food in the cabin.

❝Nah, don’t know you,❞ confirming with the added shake of the head, Tails finally moves to sit with legs crossed, peering out into the dusty emptiness around as he tries not to ogle Kit during his moment of vulnerability, ❝I think I’d remember someone as cool as you.❞

— ;; Plicating arms allow fingers to tap against their opposing biceps, and he finally splays out to rest his back against the hut. Should he interrogate the kid? Absolutely he’s not going to let him walk off on his own with no food or shelter again, but judging by his initial reaction, he doesn't seem too keen on trusting Tails.

Well— maybe lightly prodding about his circumstances could be inoffensive enough, as long as it doesn’t get personal. 

❝So… you’re out here by yourself, huh?❞ Inconspicuously as possible, chilling his stature further by resting his arms behind his head, he quizzes, ❝how long’s it been since you went off on your own?❞

[windcarvedlyre]

Rewatched part of ch1's trial and found something else that's really interesting in hindsight!

We're all familiar with Komaeda's FTE; over a decade later, there's still some room for debate wrt whether he was telling the truth about his diagnoses or not. My stance was already that he was telling the truth, instantly regretted it, and lied that he was lying, and I will die on that hill. I think the above lines reinforce my stance further.

Hear me out. I might as well make this a comprehensive 'Komaeda wasn't lying' post while I'm at it.

For reference, here's the entire final FTE.

The reasons I already had to believe him are as follows, ordered from strongest to weakest:

Komaeda almost died from despair disease; he was much more severely affected than Owari and Mioda. Lymphoma can weaken your immune system, leaving you more vulnerable to infections. While Komaeda's degree of illness could also have been due to bad luck, this could easily be an intentional hint about him.

He claims he's wanted someone's love all along. Again in chapter 3, after the trial, Tsumiki targets his lack of loved ones and seems to genuinely perturb him, indicating this is a real insecurity:

Behavioural variant frontotemporal dementia, or bvFTD, can have symptoms that align with a lot of his social and behavioural issues in the game. bvFTD symptoms can include saying socially inappropriate things/being rude and insensitive, rash/impulsive behaviour, empathy issues, and rigid thinking, among other things. Do I even need to cite examples of these? He can still hide things and manipulate people sometimes, but his ch4 investigation segment proves he's genuinely socially impaired. He sometimes fails to understand the emotional nuances of other people and the impact his words will have. For example:

(Though he still has moments of self-awareness and introspection; he acknowledges he's pessimistic in his introduction and worries he'll make Hinata hate him by saying weird things in Island Mode.)

Issues with memory, cognition in general, etc, are more of a thing in later stages of the disease, so Komaeda having significant social impairments but still being extremely sharp and lacking noticeable lapses in memory makes sense.

Physically Komaeda just doesn't seem healthy in general. He's pale, skinny, his hair is white (possibly fading into a pinkish brown that I could see being his hair colour in the past), and- at least in Japanese- he sounds really breathy and wheezy. I once laughed in a way uncannily similar to his ch1 breakdown when I had a chest infection. With asthma. Stage 3 lymphoma symptoms can include chest pain, shortness of breath, weight loss, loss of appetite and fatigue. If it's still stage 3 it's present in lymph nodes above and below the diaphragm but hasn't metastasized outside of the lymphatic system yet, but if it's advanced to stage 4 since his diagnosis then it may have spread to his lungs as well- having further potential to cause respiratory issues.

In his second-last FTE he starts to tell Hinata about something before he entered Hope's Peak but stops himself, not wanting to 'burden' Hinata. And leaves immediately to end the conversation. He'd just told Hinata how his parents died in front of him, showing zero awareness of how bad it was or how it would affect Hinata, so it must have been real bad for him to do this. And makes it less plausible he was impulsively repeating something from a book later, imo.

Iirc at least one spinoff manga runs with it being true, depicting him in a doctor's office during a nightmare. I'm too tired to hunt this down now; maybe I'll edit it in later.

On a meta level I just find it less compelling for the final reward for spending so much time with him to be 'Here's some actual vulnerability- lol psyche, remember he's manipulative? He might still want sympathy, you be the judge'. It would make the aborted confession at the end the only thing we can't infer from elsewhere in the game already. On the other hand, the diagnoses being real, and him trying to take it back and distract Hinata with an incitement to kill him (before also trying to confess his crush and aborting that too, he's a mess there), really really adds depth to his character.

Semi-tangentially, some people with bvFTD also develop neurological problems that affect movement- eg. making them slow and stiff. There's no evidence for or against Komaeda having this in canon afaik, and I've read it's more of a thing in later stages of the disease, but in the ch1 trial he talks about the threatening letter as if it's in his actual handwriting, and if so... it looks pretty stiff, doesn't it? Either it was angular on purpose or the writer has trouble with fluid hand movements. Let me know if he displays fine motor skills anywhere else, I guess.

The only real counterargument is that he's outlived the 6-12 months he was expected to, but:

The estimate is presumably from the cancer, which is treatable. FTD can take years and years, even 10+, to reach the later stages.

That's an estimate, not set in stone, and real people have survived after being told they have X months to live without supernatural luck.

In either case, it doesn't matter how dire the prognosis is if Komaeda's involved. If the chance of him surviving something isn't zero it will probably happen. When he finally managed to kill himself it wasn't even real.

Anyway, the thing I started the post with! Compare the lines below.

In both cases he's said something that could make others feel bad for him, immediately takes it back, and claims he did that on purpose.

But he wasn't actually lying in the first line, albeit hamming it up a little. He wanted someone to kill him. This happened while he was still pretending to be the killer, after Saionji asked him why he sent the letter. He dropped a hint about the truth and then deflected away from it, likely intentionally antagonising people to distract them from thinking too hard about what he just implied and make them more averse to empathising with him.

So what could that imply about the lines from his FTE?

TL;DR: He told the truth about having cancer and dementia, your honour. There's not only strong evidence for this but precedent for the sort of deflection he made afterwards.

[rooviebae]

SELF ORDER

❥︎ venti temporarily takes in little kaeya ❥︎ part one ㅤ- ㅤpart two ㅤ- ㅤpart three ❥︎ 1.9k words ❥︎ IMPORTANT NOTE: ㅤthe beginning of this is going to be the same as another kaeya and venti oneshot cause I'm too lazy to rewrite it differently lol. also might be a little bit rushed, and i apologize for that.

ㅤ

It was announced to him on a Wednesday.

The announcement that was given to him by his father alone about the necessary trust of the Ragnvindr's and the little information of Mondstadt that he was practically being forced to infiltrate.

At the time, he sat at a table that was filled with food as he loosely gripped onto his fork that he used to twirl the noodles around in the bowl. He was not hungry, everything looked unappetizing to him throughout that day.

However, when his father said that he was their last hope, and that he had a job that needed to be done, he didn't think that he would strand him in the dead of night during a thunderstorm. Granted, he was dropped off where he needed to be regardless, the family of the Ragnvindr's, but thinking back to the place that's supposed to feel like home, the place that he felt lonely in due to the lack of bonds he created, this is his first time that he was truly alone.

The thunder caused Kaeya to flinch slightly within every boom and his uncovered eye was hazy with the rain that slips through his lashes. The clothes he wears was a bit worn down and drenched, and his stained thin overcoat did little to nothing, even with the hood on over his head.

He listens to each splat when he steps in puddles, trying to maneuver his way around the best he can, passing by tree after tree and seeing no building, only green.

The longer he stayed outside, the more his body began to get used to the cold. That couldn't be healthy for him at all, but what else could he do?

Kaeya didn't know what he should be feeling in a time like this. There were so many emotions piling on top of him at once, he didn't know which one he should let front. He was scared, as any child would be, because he was alone in the middle of a heavy storm when the moon was out. He was angry that even though his own father would throw him away to do his bidding, he feels as though he has no choice but to obey his orders. He feels pity for himself because he grew up in such an unhealthy household and all he could do was stand by and watch as everything around him unfold.

But yet, a part of him also felt kind of relieved. Relieved that he was finally given the chance to taste freedom dance around him and close enough to be within his grasp.

Still though, once this entire mission was over, however long that may take, he'll be back in the house that he was imprisoned in for so long.

And that hurts.

The weight being piled upon him weighs him down, and he can only plop down under a tree as he hugs tightly onto his knees. His growing tears mix with the rain as they both slide down on his skin. He didn't want this; he wanted to walk out of the wide open door of his cell, but can't because he's being held by the chains of his father's wishes. All the boy wanted was the freedom to make his own mistakes, because then maybe he'll actually learn the meaning behind them.

And it was almost like he was heard. Eyes were on him from a distance by a young male who watches as the child buried his face in his dirty clothing. He smiles as he appears right before the boy, crouching down.

"What a surprise! I didn't expect to see a child here."

The boy was clearly startled, a sight that Venti did not enjoy seeing one bit. Still though, he was not going to give up on this boy and leave him stranded here on his own like who ever his previous guardian did to him. He doesn't know how long he's been wondering out in the pouring rain, but he looked like a total mess.

Kaeya wanted to back away from the taller male, but the more he stared at his calm and patient expression, the more relaxed he got. Obviously, he's still hesitant. Who wouldn't be? But the bard knew that this was progress, quick progress at that.

He held his hand out to the child and watched as the kid simply stares at it, not fully understand the pros and cons of his choises.

He could stay here, and a good thing about that is that the owner of the winery would eventually stumble upon him and take him back to his home. The bad thing about that is that he was still young and developing; if he stays out here for too long he would surely die, and the only thing that the Ragnvindr's would stumble upon would be a corpse.

However, if he left with this young looking man, he would survive and be taken care of as a child should, but what about the mission? What would his father say or even do to him or this male when they meet? That he failed him, threw every trivial thing that his father has done away?

This shouldn't be a hard choice to Kaeya, but it was. This definitely was a hard choice. He didn't want to die, but he also didn't want to disobey his father.

"You look as though you're going through quite a bit." While Venti kept his hand out, he lowers it slightly. He doesn't move from his position nor does he make any move that he plans on stepping away from the kid. "Don't worry, I'm patient, but I'd rather you choose sooner rather then later." He raises his arm and points at his check with a big smile as he lets out a quiet 'ehe' that could hardly be heard in this storm. "I wouldn't want you to get sick out here now would I?"

It was as though he read his mind. It was a terrifying thought: slowly dying in this whether, his skin turning grey and the shine in the boys blue eyes dull out. The thought of someone running into him in such a state was just as terrifying. What a traumatizing sight to show off.

Finally, the boy made up his mind and reluctantly extends his short arms and places his hand into Venti's which causes the man's smile to widen as he raises his position to a normal stand. "That's more like it!" He places his free hand on his hip as he lets out an almost child like giggle. "What do you say we give you a new home?"

A new home. The idea wasn't the worst. In fact, based on this man's personality that he expressed in their short amount of time interacting, he seemed like a noticably more comfortable person to be around compared to his father.

Should be even compare the two? They were two completely different people, but one had a kinder heart then the other. Maybe that was why he compared: because he longed this.

Kaeya doesn't say anything; he doesn't need to. Whether the kid liked it or not, Venti wasn't going to leave him to perish in his own depressing thoughts, so what's the wrong to help him a bit? The thought of raising a kid never crossed the bards mind, yet here he is holding onto a child's hand as he guided them into the mountains where he lives among the people.

First things first, this kid needs a bath and then food in his stomach.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Kaeya was very cooperative no matter how scared he was. Venti began to think that he was only following his orders because he feared what the consequences would be if he didn't. That's such a sorrowful thought that went through his head, and he wanted it out.

Of course, he wasn't expecting him to be a happy and giddy, jumping around the place in sheer excitement, but he wanted him to feel comfortable and secure in his presence.

The house that he brought the kid to was a cabin deep in the woods outside of Mondstadt. Venti found it quite a few years previously, and decide to clean up the place to stay there every now and then. Well, looks like he's going to have to stay here longer from now on. After all, he can't leave this kid here by himself! He was already struggling enough as it is.

"I know that this place isn't much," Venti starts, looking around his somewhat bare home until his eyes settle on Kaeya, who was eating a few cut up apple slices. "But at least it's better then being out there in that storm."

The child's eye stays on the apples as he eats each piece hesitantly. Venti couldn't help but let out a sigh as he pulls a chair out from the table and plops down on it, watching Kaeya with his chin pressed in both of his hands.

"Hey," he places one hand on the wooden table beside the boys tense body. "We can go to Mondstadt tomorrow morning if you want. I have some money saved and I wouldn't mind spending it on you."

The mention of Mondstadt made the child flinch slightly, and he raises his head and look at the taller man. No, he doesn't talk, but he really wants to, that much he could tell. He even noted his slightly quivering lip and shivering fingers. He was scared. Scared that someone or sometime that knew him would notice him and report back to his father, or maybe even take him away and back to his home. He doesn't even want to think of the punishment he would receive.

But instead of saying anything about the thoughts circling his head, he presses his lips tightly together into a firm thin line and adverts his gaze back down to his hands, almost as though he was counting each apple slice that was drying out.

Venti tilts his head on his hand, refusing to remove his attention from the kid. In all honesty, that money was supposed to be for the alcohol that he was going to drown himself in, but drinking in front of such a terrified kid would be such a horrible idea, especially one where he was taking care of.

Taking care of.

Venti originally thought of taking care of the kid, but he never thought of afterwards. Would he really be capable of raising a child? He was an alcoholic bard who plays music for people for a living.

Well, if he was going to do that, all of the money he earns would go straight to Kaeya. After all, he's a human, unlike Venti. He needs a healthy balance in his life, whether it comes to socializing, activity, or even just food. He needed much more then him.

He was quick to notice the kids hands were empty from the slices, and he was just awkwardly sitting there. "You must be tired." Venti stretches his arms and legs before standing. "I cleaned a room for you while you were bathing." He held his hand out for the kid, who reluctantly took it.

Kaeya follows him throughout the dark cabin that was lit here and there by candles, and was eventually lead to a small but cozy room.

Most of the comfortable belongings in the room actually belonged to Venti, but what's more important then the comfort of a child? It wasn't the most decorated and lavish room out there, but he has strong doubts that the kid even cares about that.

He was safe now, and he now has a place he can call home.

[simlit]

5, 10, 13, 23 for you know, the usual two suspects!

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

I'll answer for both at once since it's a similar answer. This comes as maybe no surprise in Taryn's case, but Yehl, I think, is just as equally driven, given the right circumstances. Once Yehl has the power not to take no for an answer, whether it be through his influence over Taryn, his eventual power as Celaedian, or his own growing self-confidence, he steadily starts to stand up for himself more and more. I think once he reaches full adulthood, one would be pretty foolish to try and stand in his way. To protect or keep what they love, these two would lie, steal, cheat or kill (depending on who needed killing), hands down lmao.

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

I've had this idea in my head for years now, but never the time to even kind of conceivably work on it, it's called Last Train Out. A pseudo-30s/40s AU based on this old photoset I did wherein Yehl is a successful jazz singer and Taryn is a seasoned soldier about to be shipped off to war and they have this sort of dreamlike whirlwind romance before the separation. I do also have some early drafts of their modern AU, which more closely resembles the actual events of AoA, called Forevermore, and actually have some sets built and plans to post that one (maybe someday). But LTO I'm sure will never see the light of day so we can be sentimental about the might have beens ;)

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

LOL. I'd love to say I'd get along with both of them, but given their high standards, I don' think they'd get along with me. At least they can both bond over their superiority complexes.

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Taryn - Empathy. Love being a close second, but I think he manages to bridge that gap as best he can. His "love" for Yehl might always be slightly different than your conventional idea of love, but is just as, if not more intense. Empathy, however, is not something he ever learns. He rarely feels remorse for others, though does feel guilt for the things he's done in the past that have directly caused pain or trouble for his own kin. But that comes more with his burden of responsibility as king, and if he was anyone else and not born to fill a role, I doubt he'd feel the same. He only outwardly protects the elves on Yehl's command, and later spares mankind out of sheer civility. Even with Yehl, he struggles to feel sympathy for his struggle, oftentimes using this knowledge as a means for manipulation, but he does have a fondness for Yehl's brokenness. Again, I don't think any of that is particularly healthy, but he is still a dragon and very much falls back into animalistic behaviors as a baseline nature. Yehl - Ah, this is so much harder. I'm going to say... isolation. Which is... he's not unaccustomed to loneliness, but he fears being entirely abandoned. This is a sentiment that expands rapidly upon meeting Taryn, but even when he was younger, he's always has someone to rely on. First his mother, then Nuuriel, Judine, and eventually Taryn himself. But because of what Taryn is, Yehl is constantly put in a position where he feels sort of... left out to dry, for lack of a better term. Taryn can only meet him halfway, and for most of act one, he doesn't even allow him that much. Ironic, considering I can safely say Taryn fell in love first, it's just that Yehl's emotions manifested faster and in a way Taryn couldn't understand or reciprocate. This breakdown in communication and behavioral differences causes them so much strife, and a lot of pain, mostly on Yehl's side. Just because he's literally standing next to the person he loves most and feels a thousand miles away.

[fox-buried-in-maple-leaves]

all the red asks for eloi :3

YOU HATE ME...

Ask Game!

then i put this off for days whoopsies

Pua belongs to @/ha-ule-nalu

Silver belongs to @/cat-buried-in-tall-grass

❤️ (heart) - Who is the most important person to your character? To what lengths would they go to protect this person?

Three. (later four) Gabriel, Colombe, Pua, then eventually Silver.

Eloi made sure all of their father's anger was centered on him rather than Gabriel. He made sure when he disappeared that Gabriel wouldn't get hurt. He did everything for Gabriel.

Colombe was his soulmate, his one true love. He was a very big activist for accepting Radiants back in the day.

Pua was and mostly is the only person to ever call him on the truth. Fade did to some degree, but she didn't do it in any meaningful way. Pua did. It was a conscious choice to die for her, rather than anyone else.

Silver started as a means to an end. He wasn't supposed to get so important. He wasn't supposed to care when Eloi died. But he did. He did and that made Eloi more aware.

Ultimately, there is no length Eloi /won't/ go. He will kill, he will die, he will make sure nothing happens to the people he loves.

💔 (broken heart) - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

And that's because he was the one that killed Colombe.

At this point, Eloi, the Painter of Bayeux, Scientist for Kingdom, has killed plenty of people. But none were hurt so badly as his fiancee.

The mental break that caused him to kill her and the resulting spiral has ruined him. Regret isn't enough to describe what Eloi feels.

There's a reason he hides his skin and covers his hands. Her art takes up half of his body, and the evidence of her fighting back scarred his hand permanently. She trusted him, she loved him. And he couldn't take the pressure.

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

Determination is the biggest one. People who will go to any lengths to complete their goals and ambitions. These traits are found in everyone he has a connection to except for himself.

🎈 (balloon) - What does your character do at parties? Are they a wallflower or a party animal? Do they go with friends or alone?

Eloi is an incredible undercover spy. He was a famous artist at one point, well known and well respected and well loved. He knows how to play the part, and he does it exceptionally well.

He doesn't go to parties of his own volition. Usually he's dragged there for work or by somebody else. But he's charming. Really charming.

🍷 (wine) - Does your oc drink? What kind of alcohol do they enjoy? What are their drinking habits? What kind of drunk are they?

Yeah he drinks heavily. Eloi doesn't change much between sober and drunk. He might be a bit more melancholic when he's fully drunk, but he's pretty much his same quiet self.

He drinks as frequently as an agent of valorant can.

❗️(exclamation point) - What was the scariest moment of your character’s life? Does it still affect them?

When he woke up the next morning with Colombe's blood all over him and his entire studio destroyed. Of course it still affects him lol

🥩 (steak) - Does your oc have any coping mechanisms? Healthy or unhealthy?

Almost all of them are unhealthy, to hammer in he's suicidal. He actively self harms in the traditional sense but also he drinks heavily, he smokes heavily, he'll pretty much never turn down any drug offer though doesn't necessarily seek it out himself.

He needs therapy but uhm hahaha.

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

Fight.

🍓 (strawberry) - Does your oc believe in anything? Are they superstitious? Religious? Atheistic? Has anything in their past made them this way?

If God was real then where was he? Where was this so called God when everything that happened happened? Where was God when his father beat him and where was God when the only person he loved died?

God is a scam.

💋 (kiss) - Is your oc a good kisser? Have they kissed anyone before? Do they even enjoy kissing? What was their first kiss like in comparison to their most recent?

Very good kisser! He's a slut. He enjoys it somewhat, it isn't his favourite thing though. Eloi prefers biting to kissing.

His first kiss was when he was 13 and Colombe made fun of him for not knowing how to do it or where to put his hands. So you know, in comparison he's not longer a child!

🍒 (cherries) - Does your character have a best friend? How long have they known each other? What do they like most about each other? How did they meet?

No, not anymore lmaooo

🚨 (siren) - What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

UHM.

WELL. He IS a serial killer so.........

But that being said he did get away with Colombe's murder. And several others. And technicallyllylylly his city's law department didn't even catch him, Kingdom did. And then locked him in solitary for a long ass time before letting him out to do their dirty work for them.

But I mean yeah he was arrested for SEVERAL murders.

He hates cops though. Very adamant about the fact he's not a fucking cop. Cops r on his RADAR. watch out.

(Can you tell the police were called on his father's abusive behaviour and did nothing but scold Gabriel for calling?)

💄 (lipstick) - What does your oc think of their face? Do they have a positive or negative opinion? Do they wear makeup? Do they have a skincare routine? What traits do they like most about their face?

Eloi knows he's attractive lol- He likes his face, its a good face. He wears eyeshadow/eyeliner sometimes for fun but rarely wears makeup even if he has a breakout he j kinda leaves it.

He does wash his face before bed every night but thats about it

He likes his eyes and lips, v nice.

🍎 (apple) - Does your oc go to school or take classes? Did they go to college? What was/is their favorite subject? Did/do they get good grades? Did/do they enjoy school?

His education is high school graduate and that's it. His least favourite subject was ART lmao- His favourite was art history tho- He got good grades! He would have liked a further education but his career took precedent.

🐞 (ladybug) - What does a perfect day look like for your oc? What do they do? Who do they see?

Drunk on the couch watching the future version of masterchef. maybe he gets laid, maybe he doesn't. but this is the good shit

☎️ (telephone) - Does your character know anyone’s phone number by heart? Do they prefer calling or texting? Who’s their favorite person to call/text? Do they have any typing quirks?

He knows Pua's and the only reason he does is to scare her with silent phonecalls from like those fake number websites online lol

Eloi prefers to text. He doesn't have a favourite person to contact though. He types politely

🥊 (boxing glove) - Has your character ever been in a fight? Did they win? Do they fight often? Are they professionally trained or self taught? Do they enjoy fighting or only do so when necessary?

He wins a lot. And he gets into fights a lot. Not so much with his victims anymore because "where did that bruise come from?" was tiring. so he requests his victims partially sedated.

He doesn't enjoy it though. I mean how can you enjoy a constant psychotic break-

Now that he's with the protocol, he has professional training.

🧣(scarf) - What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how any why does it comfort them?

Painting. The brush against the canvas calms him. It helps that his canvases and brushes are uhm. Homemade.. So they're his comfort items. Doesn't let anybody else touch his equipment.

👠 (heels) - How does your oc dress? Are they stylish or casual? Do they keep up with trends or do their own thing? Do they prefer designer clothes or going to the thrift store? Do they have a signature item of clothing?

Eloi tends to dress up, he's always dressed relatively well. He doesn't care about trends or where he gets his clothes, he just likes looking put together.

His signature items are the various ribbons he ties his hair with and the fact he always wears two separate types of gloves. And the two gloves change, so he clearly has a bunch.

🍄 (mushroom) - Does your character like being in nature or do they prefer the indoors? Do they have any outdoor hobbies like camping or fishing? If they prefer the indoors, why?

Eloi is an introverted artist with no life, of course he prefers being inside. He only goes outside when he needs to think or needs to be alone.

His favourite spot is the roof. Nobody goes up there, and he gets to be alone.

🩸 (blood) - Is your oc squeamish? Are they disturbed by the sight of blood? Have they ever been in a situation where they had to overcome being squeamish?

✂️ (scissors) - Has your character ever cut their own hair? What about someone else’s? How did it turn out?

Oh god yeah no don't let him do it.

🎸 (electric guitar) - What’s your character’s music taste like? Do they have one or two artists they play on repeat or do they have a varied and eclectic collection of music? Do they like mainstream artists or prefer underground musicians? What genres do they enjoy?

I'm sorry, Eloi is the kind of guy who hits the youtube playlist remix thing and lets it play. he just needs background noise.

🎒 (backpack) - What items does your oc usually carry? Do they have a bag or just keep everything in their pockets? Do they carry a lot or a little?

Palette knife, a sketchbook, and a pencil. He keeps the knife and pencil in his pocket and his book under his arm.

🪓 (axe) - Does your oc have survival skills? Have they ever had to use them? What would they do in an apocalypse? Could they survive?

Yes many. When you grow up in an abusive household you have far more survival skills than you realise. And Eloi has applied them many times. He'd be fine in an apocalypse, sure, but he'd try to kill himself. again.

[andiwriteordie]

I love sending you asks (hope it doesn't bother you) (I might have angst Mike thoughts when I'm more coherent) : you are INCREDIBLE thank you so much for the food !!! I absolutely live for the way you put Mike and his relationship with his firebending ! I am absolutely loving everything you said so far!!!

NICOOOOOOOO <33333

my fellow angst lover!!!! thank you, i'm so glad you've enjoyed the little mess of thoughts that i have about all this au lol!!!

ok *cracks knuckles* i will try my best to give you some good ole fashioned mike wheeler angst. if i've rambled about some of this already, no i haven't, just ignore me <3

let's talk about this universe's rain fight.

(the song i was listening to while writing this in case you wanted the vibes)

i think i've alluded to some of the ideas nic and i have had with the rain fight and how it all fits into this crazy little world we've built! with queer couples being more prominent in the avatar world, we'd kinda decided not to have the homophobic society be as big of a focus, but rather to mike's insecurities with his bending be what begins to cause that distance.

@messrsbyler we should probably go back and revisit this... eventually because we had good ideas there but ANYWAYS. nic and i had started to discuss what book 2 (the equivalent of parts of st s2 into st s3) would look like and just how will's possession type of arc would come into play there. because, as we all know, will's freed from the mind flayer's control through... yep. his family literally burning it out of him, and nancy burning his side with that metal rod.

i'm not gonna get into too much of the specifics here (mostly because we uh. haven't entirely figured them out yet lmfao), but let's just all operate under the assumption that because mike is also a firebender, both he and nancy are there when will is getting essentially tortured to free him from whatever is happening with the spirits.

did somebody say mike having extreme guilt and a negative perception of his firebending?

so now we flash forward a few months into book 3 (st s3/st s4 combined), and we see mike and will aren't quite as close as they used to be. because mike... can't. he just can't. he looks at will and replays that moment over and over again in his mind—nancy's fire, will's scream, mike's delayed reaction. it's like a broken record in his mind, and we see mike begin to battle with those existential questions about his bending. his bending has been such a core part of his identity for his whole life, and he's tried everything he possibly can to just be good at it. to live up to nancy's standards and to his parents' expectations. firebending has been everything to him, and it makes up so much of who mike is and how mike perceives himself.

firebending is destructive though. mike has always known this in the back of his mind. it comes with the territory of being a firebender. you're warned to be careful—to keep control of your element, lest you hurt somebody else. fire is wild, and if you're not careful, it will harm and it will destroy.

and if so much of who mike is, is tied to his firebending... what does that say about mike too?

it all comes to blows one day when will confronts him about their distance. mike has been avoiding him, and will's not stupid. plus, will has his own shit that he's going through, and somebody talk about miscommunication trope, because god knows will is over here feeling something like a mistake or something broken after what has happened to him. and the one person who has always been there for him, to remind him that he isn't broken, and to hold him close and remind him how to breathe again... that person is pulling away.

neither of them are very healthy, and neither of them are very good at communicating. so when they fight, they fight, and they throw around harsh words and accusations. words are spilling out of mike's mouth that he doesn't mean. they're just reflections of how he sees himself. he's projecting his insecurities onto will. and his words? they're a fire—untamable, dangerous, and destructive.

it's in that fight that mike crosses the line, and he loses control of his words and of his bending.

his words: "it's not my fault you can't bend anymore!"

his fire: igniting sparks as he moves his hands about, the way he does when he gets angry like this.

and his best friend, left burnt and scarred, by both mike's words and by his fire.

for a moment, mike and will just stand there, because neither of them can quite process what's happening. will is stunned and obviously in pain—the gloves on his hands that cover the tattoos he's ashamed of burned right through, and his hands already beginning to blister.

and mike is just horrified. because this is exactly what he'd been so afraid of. he's never been that good at controlling his firebending. he's never been good at protecting his friends from the people who hurt him. and apparently, he's not so good at protecting his friends from himself either.

mike tries to reach out. it's second nature to make sure will is okay, and even though there are horrified, guilty, burning tears in mike's eyes, he moves past the shame and the guilt and tries in that moment to reach for will.

but will leaves. he's on his bike today, not his glider. he doesn't use his glider very much anymore. he hasn't since he was kidnapped. will leaves mike behind.

and mike doesn't follow him.

because now will's better off without his fire anyways.

(spoiler alert: mike follows will... eventually. *cue wheeler-byers-hopper roadtrip to find the twins*)

[firsttarotreader]

Pedro’s Special Birthday Reading #1 2023

Hello! Once again it’s April 2nd! Our man’s birthday! 🥳🥳🥳 🎂🎉🎈Like last year, I did some special readings to talk about this next year of his life that starts today. The first one is a more general one, with the Celtic Cross method, and I asked what this year holds for him, in his life as a whole, not focusing on anything specific. I gotta say I am proud of it and wish Pedro could see it! Hope he does in one of his lurking sessions online! 🥹🥹

The cards I pulled were the Queen of Hedgehogs reversed, 5 of Spears, 2 of Spears, The Pair, 9 of Spears, Knight of Teacups, 7 of Flowers, Page of Spears, Knight of Flowers and Transformation.

Okay, so let’s start our journey. Queen of Hedgehogs reversed is the significator, the central issue right now, and Pedro seems to be having a hard time balancing his work life with his personal and home life. There is an imbalance, and from what we have seen from him, apparently work and career are the ones taking up the most space. Maybe he isn’t giving his loved ones (friends and family) the attention he might want to, or that he should. We could even be talking about his “home” as his own body, and he might have neglected it, which could explain his recent gym routine and apparently healthy food (a little less caffeine could help too though lol). The 5 of Spears is what’s crossing this entire situation and causing it. This is a card of conflict, of frustrations and misunderstandings, miscommunication, and the feeling of defeat. These feelings have crossed Pedro’s life and are the ones potentially causing and fueling the Queen of Hedgehogs reversed. He’s felt defeated and frustrated (possibly in every field, his career, his love life, his own body), and not only that fuels the present situation, but also the fear to go through it again. Working a lot protects him from failing again, or so he believes. The 2 of Spears is the head card, what lies in the surface, what he probably knows consciously. You see, this man is very indecisive, like he has said himself. He’s always feeling like he has to choose and he just can’t choose, he’s between two paths, he’s in the middle, and sometimes it can be a good thing, sometimes it may not be the best. It’s like he feels he has to choose between work and his home life as a whole too, and this is very hard. It’s confusing and he keeps trying to balance things.

The Pair (The Lovers) is the root of the issue, what lies in his subconscious. This is an interesting card because it’s a card of choice the same way, but it also represents harmony, balance, the sides not really clashing, healthy relationships (between different sides, and it can be anything, between work and home life, between love and work, between work and friends, anything), and this man craves harmony, he craves things working in balance, like a choice he doesn’t really have to choose because things just work perfectly in synch. 9 of Spears is his Past influences, things he has been through that have informed his current decisions, things he’s been through that are influencing his feelings now but he needs to let them go because they are no longer his reality. That is over and he can free himself from this past. And this is a card of anxiety, of worries and pains, nightmares and depression. He’s felt all that, he’s been through so much anxiety about so many things and even maybe a struggle to sleep because of nightmares and anxiety. All that can stay in his past, what worried him in the past is over now, he can rest. Knight of Teacups is his future influences. He might deal with the situations too emotionally and not rationally. This card also represents love, affection, warmth and kindness, and this is how he will navigate the world. This Knight is Prince Charming, he is a gentleman, but he’s too emotional and sensitive and that might be a problem sometimes because he can be unstable (and emotionally unstable), he’s in movement, he’s a Knight.

7 of Flowers is his present moment, like an extension of the Significator card, and it points to him possibly going through conflict (like the Queen of Hedgehogs reversed? Between work and home life?) and he might also face challenges, internal and external conflict, and he’s gonna need to persevere. There might be rivals, haters, trolls, and he needs to be strong willed to navigate it all. It might be a turbulent moment, whether it’s internally or externally. Page of Spears is the way the people around him see him, friends and family and maybe everyone else, even if he doesn’t feel that way about himself, and this Page is one with the best intentions, always wanting to do his best and be his best, and willing to right his wrongs. Knight of Flowers represents his hopes and fears. You see, this is interesting because this Knight is that one we always link to him (Knight of Wands) because he is so intense and he gives all he’s got when he invests in something but his fire burns fast. And this could be a huge fear for him too, that all that he’s got now, what he’s given everything to achieve, can be so intense but disappear so fast. He fears this moment is fleeting, that he will lose it all, but at the same time he hopes everything is fleeting because he needs to change, he needs to be in movement.

The final card is Transformation (Death) and it’s the “final result”. Of course it’s not final final, it’s the result of the reading for the next months. This card makes me think of leaving the past behind and embracing the new. Pedro is always changing and he likes to change. Leave what needs to die behind so something new can be born. You’re no longer who you were before, you’re no longer going to go through those struggling times like you once did and for so long. Live and let die!

Well, that’s it, y’all! I will be back later for other birthday special readings for him 🤐. Whew! This one was A LOT of work!

Happy Birthday, Pedro, may all your wishes come true! 🎈🎁

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

[meta] What emotion is hardest for your character to handle? How do they try to manage this emotion?

[META] [TL;DR] Loneliness. Sorry, I use a lot of fluff in these lol

Like with Parker, Gael is generally pretty good about regulating and controlling his emotions but unlike Parker, he feels all of them in a (mostly) healthy way; he gets mad, sad, he's obviously very stubborn but that can go both ways.

It might be a little nonconventional but isn't entirely sure how to process and manage loneliness. He forms attachments incredibly easily and even before he was... attacked by a bear out in the woods, he was definitely a social person. He had groups of friends, he always stayed close to his family. He was approachable, he's friendly and he hasn't had to deal with a lot of death or loss in his life, nor has he had to deal with people just... not liking him, or at least not liking him enough that they consider him worth being around.

To him, being alone, like entirely isolated is a mental equivalent of a death sentence. That's one reason why even when he was by himself, he went to church - the belief that even when he's alone, he's not truly alone is so important to him. He gets energy, joy and happiness from other people. When he's by himself especially nowadays when he can't sleep or feel like he has anyone to talk to, that's when the bad thoughts and ideas come - that no one wants him around, that he's too much or that he tries too hard to be friendly, that he'll lose those friendships because people move and cut contact or because of something out of his control.

It's self-fulfilling too because with this whole "werewolf" business, even if he were to believe it, it's so unusual and foreign to him that he doesn't want to let people in to help, which in of itself is an unusual and foreign concept to him. He's very intelligent but doesn't get that by closing off any part of him, that just drives people away. And then when that happens he feels lonely and-- You know. It's cyclical.

ALL OF THIS TO SAY, he doesn't manage it well either and his desperation not to be alone can cause problems and rifts that he can't see at the time. 'Just smother the parts of you that aren't convenient, be what other people want or need. Always smile and don't let anyone go because if you do, then it's not them who are leaving, it's you who's left. Left alone in the dark where no one's listening, you have no actual friends, especially when they learn that you're not normal.'

When he's not thinking that, though, he tries to rationalize why he's alone and that most of the time, it's just temporary. Most of the time it works. Sometimes it really doesn't.

[knight-of-the-graces]

(Post under cut!)

 Can we have an au where the watchers are just two asexual beings that love each other and really wanted kids. And they just so happened to find three that had no positive parental figures. So why not nab them? The watchers are concerned over their lack of self-preservation, but hey, they can fix that, hopefully. It's questionable if they succeeded, but at least they don't g running into danger right away. 

Like, can we have cute family scenes of the Watchers teaching them to fly, or use magic? Can we have them learning about the other worlds, and wanting to help them? Hence, Evo and their other series like Build Swap and Hermitcraft.

What if it was both? Some Watchers are assholes, and some are super nice. Watchers are based upon the viewers/subscribers after all. And some of us can be assholes, and some of us can be rather nice, yes? So hear me out.  

The Watchers that kidnapped Dom, Grian, and Taurits are some of the nice ones, and they warn them away from most of the really mean/negligent ones. Because both can exist. I'm just a little tired of most people deciding Grian had a terrible life until Hermitcraft. 

 Yes, YHS was extremely angsty- the entire world is canonically destroyed and it can be blamed on them and Sam- but what about his other ones? I mean, what about Evo itself? Grian was happy on there, playing with friends, for quite a while until he got burned out and joined the Watchers. 

 So it could easily be said in a backstory of sorts that while he had fun with his friends and brother-figure, he still missed the first positive parental figures. (I mean in YHS his character mentions his bio parents abandoned him at six years old onto the streets of Japan) That doesn't mean he has to stop visiting them though, right?

And what about Build Swap? Think about how many guest judges or players he invited during that series! What if that was the character's way of brightening up someone's day, making them laugh? Giving them a chance to have a better day. 

 Imagine the Watchers being the ones to teach him redstone. Because back when the redstone was simpler, Grian was actually really good at it. I mean, just think about NPC Grian and Robot Grian. The dude made a robot version of himself just because his voice was messed up. So perhaps, while he never really understood the more complicated redstone, they taught him how to make artificial life. Like how in Hermitcraft he makes Grumbot and Jrumbot.

Also, he was always a mischievous gremlin from the moment he got out of YHS- whose to say that wasn't a way the Watchers helped him find to cope in a healthy way. Something better than murder or self-harm.  So when Evo comes around, he's wearing green, as red has t r a u m a associated with it. He eventually goes back to wearing red, but by then he's worked through that part of his problems. Not to say the red isn't a different shade now though

He's traumatized, and certain sounds still cause him to jump, but he's getting better. The dude deserves to have a positive and supportive family. Perhaps the Watchers are a little overprotective sometimes, but that's okay. 

They might make a point to kind of intimidate Xisuma when he comes to invite Grian, but that's okay. They might make a point to secretly visit, but that's also okay. Because sometimes their kids have bad days, and just need to be hugged and comforted and assured that everything's alright. It doesn't matter that they're adults now- Dom, Taurtis, and Grian are still their kids, even if it's not by blood.

Thank you for reading my rant lol.

This is gonna’ be a long one- Okay, in all of the Grian’s backstory fanfics I’ve read, the Watchers are almost always assholes. Can we get a story where they’re like the best eldritch parents ever? Like, yeah they stole Grian and Taurtis and Dom from their world, but they were in an abusive situation- that no one really stopped or mentioned besides joking about it. So why is that seen as a bad thing? 

Keep reading

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Dennis

Notes: No one asked for this. was inspired this thread. LOL. Also Chris Evans Debuts Trailer for New Movie DENNIS

Summary: A broken pathetic shell of a man with nothing to live for.

Warning: 18+ only please, forced fingering, non con, rape, Dark themes

Dark Dennis Baker x Reader

💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

6:00 A.M.

Dennis hated waking up. Though he was married whenever he arose and reached over to his wife's side of the bed it was always cold. It didn't used to be this way. Not too long ago he would wake to find her snuggling into him, but now it was as if he was a single man all over again.

Scrubbing his hands over his face as he sat on the edge of the bed he wondered where his wife was this time. At some point after he was laid off she started changing. Working out more, staying out more, sleeping over at her sisters for reasons she never made clear to him.

Walking over to the closet Dennis retrieved his uniform, laying it on top of the bed, neatly. The gawd awful pink retail shirt, unflattering khaki pants, with the leather belt and penny loafers made him internally groan at the sight each morning.

As the steam dissipated from the shower Dennis mindlessly stared at his own reflection. Dread poured over him the closer it got time for him to leave for work. This job was a far cry from his former one as Head of IT. A major data breach ruined his career in the tech field. Despite his best efforts to prevent the cyber attack his warnings went unheeded, sighting unnecessary cost for the infrastructure. And when the inevitable happened his neck was brought to the chopping block.

With that blemish on his record it was hard to get another job of similar note with this infraction hanging over his head. Now reduced to technical expert at Betsy's Computer store. A glorified titled for a retail worker that pushed more PS5's than actual technical support.

With the drop in title so did the salary. The mortgage, car note and other bills began piling up on top of each other. Credit cards were starting to hit their own limit, all contributing to his physical and mental decline.

💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

7:00 A.M.

As he began dressing he heard a faint sound coming from down stairs. Tucking in his shirt as he left the bedroom he heard the rare sound of his wife, Sarah. She was talking cheerfully to someone he hoped would be her sister. When he entered the archway his heart sank as she quieted herself, her mood fully changed before slipping her cell into her pocket.

Quickly she picked up a dish that contained scraps of some healthy meal that she only made for herself. Rinsing it off at the sink as Dennis approached her from behind.

Leaning over Dennis tried to kiss her cheek, but swiftly Sarah pulled away. “Ugh!”

"What's wrong?" He knew, but he had to hear it.

"You have a bad penis?" she answered before leaving him alone in the kitchen as he bottled up the hurt as he always did. Tucking away the insult and then burying it deep.

Dennis's erectile dysfunction was just the cherry on his shit cake. He had seen several doctors. All prescribed this or that, but nothing worked. The lack of intimacy helped to further wreck havoc on his marriage.

💻🌧����💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

8:00 A.M.

The entrance to the gaudy pink building dinged as the automatic doors opened.

"Morning Dennis" you smiled as he walked through the opened doors. He scrunched his face as if he didn't recognize you. You had only run into him once or twice since you started last week, so you weren't surprised he didn't remember.

"How did you..?" He looked a mix of tired and confused as he stood between the doorway.

Your head tilted and gave him a look, before tapping the name plate on your chest. Dennis followed your finger, your badge sat perched on your left breast. You shifted on your feet as his eyes lingered on your nameplate longer than you would've liked.

"Hadn't had your coffee yet I see" you joked. Quickly Dennis shifted his eyes away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yeah" Dennis chuckled dryly.

"Well, there is a fresh pot in the back last time I checked and  a few donuts. I think Richard brought some in. If you hurry you might be able to snatch one up." You brushed off his awkwardness.

Maybe he isn't a morning person.

You could see Dennis on the verge of reply, but your attention diverted to the customer walking to your open lane. "How was your shopping today? Do you have a Betsy card?" You read off your script as they laid their items down. In the corner of your eye you watched him linger a bit, before continuing on toward the back to clock in.

💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

3:00 P.M.

Dennis grumbled with hands on hips as he looked at the disarray of the printer cartage wall. He had organized and reorganized the entire aisle at least five times today. He had only been gone five minutes only to return to chaos.

Quickly taking inventory with his clipboard he made notes of what he needed before storming off to the storage room. Through his irritation he found it hard to stay mad as thoughts of you clouded his head while he walked.

The tiny interaction from earlier in the day had haunted him. Trying in vein Dennis tried his hardest to focus on anything else, but the more he fought it the more you seemed to just pop up. He found his eyes locking with yours in-between various interactions with customers as you cut through his section to get to the break room. Each time you fluttered your fingers and smiled at him, leaving him flustered, returning the smile more stiff and awkward than the time before.

Opening the door to the storage room Dennis's heart skipped a beat when he found you bent over examining a shelf. You hadn't noticed him yet, too focused on the numbers on the paper you held in search of an item.

Swallowing thickly Dennis gingerly closed the door quietly in an effort not to spook you. His cock twitched slightly the longer he stood against the door. When you moaned in frustration after you placed an item back on the shelf a heat rippled through his face forcing him to bite back a groan of his own.

Staying quiet, he released the knob and started to move closer to you. Each step Dennis felt his heart beat through his ears as your hips swayed before him.  

The narrow aisle forced Dennis to squeeze past you to reach his desired destination. Sucking in his bottom lip hungrily he pushed his hips forward as he slid behind, the slight graze made you jump up and yelp in surprise.

"Oh gosh Dennis you scared me!" You giggled slightly embarrassed. You placed a hand over your chest and the other on his shoulder.

"Sorry" looking sincerely at you as he held his hands up innocently. "Just trying to reach the ink." Hoping to take the focus away from his bottom half. The light graze was enough to awaken that piece of him that he had long sense gave up on.

"It's OK. It's super tight back here. Kind of hard not to knock into someone." You brushed of your shock and turn back to your task. With your back to him again adjusted himself awkwardly.

"Hey, wait!" Your call froze him in his tracks.

Dennis's back tensed and a panic shot through his core as he heard your steps approach. His work pants had become uncomfortably tighter all thanks to you.

Slyly he pressed his clip board over his buckle when you rounded his side. Internally Dennis prayed that you wouldn't notice the throbbing erection below his belt.

"Can you help me I can’t find this." You were still focused on the paper you held, pushing it in his line of sight as you waited for him to respond. You were so close that your perfume tickled his nose and he wondered if you tasted just as sweet as you smelled.

Dennis's lips deepened into a frown when Richard, the floor manager, called your name from the now open storage door.  

"We need you back on registers. Let me handle that for now." Richard demanded.  

"Oh OK" turning away from him you handed the papers to Richard as he approached. "Thanks anyway Dennis" you patted Dennis's back before walking off. The sudden lack of touch sent an ache to his heart as he watched you disappear through the door.

💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

5:30 P.M.

The rain came down hard. You hadn't check the weather, when you left your apartment earlier in the day the sky was clear. Without an umbrella you made a mad dash to your car on the far end of the lot. Panting wildly, by the time your reached the car you were soaked through and through.

Slipping in you shrieked when the white flash crashed too close to your car. Fumbling with your keys before sticking them in the ignition you quickly found disappointment. The engine wouldn't turn over. It took several clicks of the turning key, before you stared baffled at the wheel. You had never had issues with your car before, so you were at a loss as to what could be the cause.

A bashing came loud on your side that caused you to scream in fright. Your heart beat rapidly, but when you looked over you found Dennis standing outside your door holding his umbrella.

"You OK?" He queried as you manually rolled your window down.

"It won't start. I think its the battery?" You weren't sure, but it sounded plausible.

"I would give you a jump, but it's a little dangerous. I can give you a ride though." He shouted over the heavy rain.

"Oh gosh, are you sure?"

"Yeah, come on."

Unbuckling your seat Dennis held the door open for you as you got out. You stuck close to his side, huddling under his umbrella as he led you to his car.

Opening the passenger door you thanked Dennis then slipped inside. He closed the door than jogged over to the driver's side, you giggled at his awkward stride and wondered if there was any part of him that wasn't weird. 

💻🌧🍔 💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

Through his peripheral Dennis watched you. Your perfume seemed to waft through his tiny Toyota and he hoped that it would sink into the upholstery.

"It's over there, just turn right on the corner" you directed him. He nodded at your direction. Suddenly sad that the ride was coming to an end sooner than he would've liked.

"You can slow down here. Mine is the one in the middle."

Dennis slowed to park as you gathered your things and readied to disembark. "Um uh I know this is weird, but do you think I can.. use your restroom?" It came out bumbled and he internally kicked himself for that.

"Oh gosh yes of course." You touched his arm as you spoke, the patch of skin sending jolts all throughout.

Dennis exited the car first as you waited patiently for him to shelter you from the rain.

You thank him again as you both jogged to your front door. With your keys at the ready you unlocked the door and allowed him in after you. "First door on your right" you point down the hall as you slipped out of your work shoes.

💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

8:00 P.M.

Dennis didn't move.

"So how is married life?" You nervously inquired, noticing the gold band on his finger.

He didn't answer and the look on his face started to fill you with concern.

He is just an awkward guy. Don't over think it.

"Um would you like something to drink" you made a move to walk toward the kitchen, but Dennis blocked your advance. Stepping a foot back you started to panic. "So h-how do you like working at.."

Before you could finish Dennis sandwiched you between the door.  Fruitlessly you tried to wiggle free as his hands began to roam your sides. Pushing at his chest he stood unmoved by your efforts as he leaned in close to your cheek, peppering you with kisses along your neck.

"Please Dennis.." You trembled out. Dennis wedged between your legs, the feel of his hard cock had you hiccuping as you pleaded with him to stop.

The muscles in your arm burned as you push, your hands flailing and slipping off his wet clothes. He inhaled you, humming with delight as his stubble burned against your neck.

Tears coated your eyes as he began feverishly unbuckling your belt. Your nails clawed into his flesh to no effect, tossing your hands away effortlessly as he continued to maneuver your pants down past your hips.

It was if the mild mannered retail clerk had become a completely different person and you couldn't understand why.

"I see the way you look at me" he growled into your ear. 

"I was just being nice. Please Dennis!"

"So nice for me baby" he kissed your cheek as you turned your face away from him. Through the kerfuffle you hadn't realized you both had moved away from the door. Your side hit the arm of the living room's couch and you found yourself tumbling over with Dennis landing on top of you.

Dennis snatched one of your wrist when you tried to slap him. Threading his fingers with yours like a lover, slowly moving it above your head. Your other hand tried to force him to fall over to the floor, but he refused to budge.

His other arm disappeared between your bodies, the further it sunk down your stomach tensed. You were useless against his determination. There was no out from under him.

Dennis swallowed your sobs, when his hand came dangerously close to your clit. Hot beads of tears streamed your face when  he grazed your mound. The tickle of his finger tips meticulously played with your folds, in an attempt to move away his fingers parted your lips. Sucking and kissing on your neck, you felt a fire begin to pool at his hand.

"You don't want to do this please" you sniffed, but he was too far gone. A long moan fell from your lips when his fingers finally plunged into you.

Dennis's digits curled and pumped, the friction feeding an unwanted need in your core. When you tried to protest again he devoured your mouth greedily.

"I'm gonna fill you up...Have you stuffed full of my cum." Dennis moaned over your mouth.

Your toes started to curl as your heat grew. You wanted him to stop, but a need weakened your resolve.

"That's it baby, I feel you want me too." 

"Fuck" you panted out as you struggled to fight against him and yourself. Your juices coated him thoroughly, you bit back shame as he praised you for it. Mindlessly you gripped his shoulder  as your mounded tightened around him. Panting wildly you came on his fingers.

"That's it baby." He praised, slipping his fingers free which caused you to whimper shamefully. Your legs felt like jelly as you laid on the couch. Dennis hadn't moved, only lifting his hips to  unfastened his belt.

"No! No no please" you whined, pushing backwards on the couch cushion. Dennis snaked an arm behind your back, locking you in place as you pulled at his work shirt to get him off you.

The head of his cock swirled around your juices, pressing hard against your folds to blindly find your opening. "So wet just for me baby."

No matter which way your hips move the determined man found your slick folds. Wedged between your legs Dennis shuttered with delight as he pressed into you. His slow pressure stretched you as you continued to sob.

"So tight for me" he hummed. You hissed the deeper he sunk into you. Breathing heavily through the tightness while his hips rolled into you. The cheap couch groaned at the increase of activity. Dennis palmed your ass, gripping too tight as he fucked you into the couch.

His desperate kisses all over you felt like trails of fire. Your legs began to wrap and tighten around him as he thrusted relentlessly. 

"Dennis.." You panted out as your need took over.

"Do you want to come for me?" he sounded as needy as you did.

"I haven't come in so long... Do you think you can handle it baby?" He taunted.

"Please" you say weakly.

"That's it I knew you needed me"

"Please Dennis." You begged as you dissolved into pleasure.

You were his new life he was sure of it. His cure and he was never letting you go.

💻🌧🍔 💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️💻🌧🍔💍🚘☔️

[writefightandflightclub]

I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long. 

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.” 

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles. 

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

[justalads]

c!niki and c!wilbur enjoyers. pspspspspspsps

alright guys so last night i rewatched pretty much all of the pogtopia arc. and this isn’t meant to be a big, important analysis post (it’s kind of incomprehensible), because my brain is fried from, you know. rewatching pretty much all of pogtopia. but i do have some stuff i’d like to say.

(this also just became a niki meta sorry i love her. i really just got emo about her during the second half of this and it got long. i have a lot of feelings about her and wilbur’s friendship.)

it’s a pretty general conclusion that wilbur’s real “downfall” began on october 8th, during the stream “who are you go away”. of course, his spiral and the process of him losing faith had begun much earlier, more around the end of the first war or during the election. but the big switch, so to say, was definitely here, when as wilbur walks back from schlatt’s announcement, he asks tommy if they’re the bad guys.

this entire scene was so interesting to me. wilbur here is a man who has lost hope, someone who is backed into a corner morally and has nothing left. he points out that they can never really reclaim l’manburg without forever tainting it, and that schlatt knows this. the entire half an hour or so before, schlatt has been taunting wilbur about losing that power. the emphasis of the festival on “democracy” is so clearly a barb thrown at wilbur, and it works.

wilbur’s “nothing left to lose” in this vod is a mirror to niki’s “you know what they say about a woman who has nothing left to lose”. this will not be the first time they mirror each other.

basically, wilbur’s angry. when schlatt announced the festival, wilbur realized that maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing. so once he worked around into the mindset of “we’re the bad guys”, he was able to justify saying he was going to blow up the nation with no remorse. he wants chaos! he wants no survivors!

does he do it? god no.

during the streams leading up to november 16th, wilbur is consistently scared. he goes back and forth on it, and makes multiple “conditions” that determine whether he’s going to do it or not, almost begging someone to stop him. he whispers to himself that he’s scared, that his hands are shaking, that he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. because despite what he says about “not caring about any of them”, the instant niki is threatened after tubbo’s death, wilbur walks up to schlatt and tells him that if he’s going to kill anyone it should be him. later, when quackity and tommy talk him down from pressing the button, he can’t press it because they’re there and he can’t bring himself to kill them as well.

but he has no problems with putting his own life at risk. he refuses to wear armor half the time, and actively places himself in harm’s way to save others. he still cares about everyone else, as much as he says he doesn’t. even when he does cause harm to others, during november 16th, he immediately begs phil to kill him. “look, they all want you to.” he can’t live with what he’s done, and how he’s hurt people, but he couldn’t allow manburg to continue.

the man is terrified and angry and he can’t win. and even as he tries to stuff himself into the mind of someone who doesn’t care, he cannot. when he finally does, he cannot live with being that person.

but the reason i rewatched this arc was to see niki’s point of view, especially after her statements during her last stream. i genuinely think that wilbur’s only betrayal of her was pressing the button, because he betrayed everyone. they might have known he was going to do it, but they had faith he wouldn’t.

wilbur cared a lot about niki. her life under schlatt was awful, wilbur hated that she was suffering, and the scene where wilbur plants himself directly in the center of the festival and tells schlatt to kill him instead hits pretty hard. he has the argument with schlatt, and then turns to niki and tells her to run. he then hits people and sprints away, trying to give her time to escape.

this is also when he asks her to join pogtopia, because now that schlatt has said he’d kill her, it’s a safer place for her.

so the man did care about her. niki is angry at the memory of him that she has. it’s been twisted by time and her own grief and paranoia.

in rewatching pogtopia, i realized that a lot of people hate the memory of wilbur. not him, and what he did. they think he didn’t care. and to quote hamilton (apologies):

“history obliteratesit paints me in all my mistakes”

does niki have a right to be mad at him? absolutely. he caused direct harm to her by blowing up l’manburg, once it was reclaimed. but she’s wrong that he never cared.

(an interesting note: wilbur only blows it up after techno starts fighting people outside. he hears it, and says “look, they’re fighting”. he didn’t re-initiate the conflict of the country. the fact that even after peace was won people were fighting just gave evidence to his belief that the entire country was corrupted.)

niki has been hurt a lot, and wilbur has things to answer for. but we as the audience know that her statements are just her perception. she is a character who acts on perceptions. the entire stream was in black and white. during doomsday, upon seeing wilbur log on (as ghostbur), niki has a panic attack and destroys her bakery, trying to rid herself of the pain of the memories. her lines during this stream are chilling, whispered repetitions that are a mirror of wilbur’s end.

(paraphrased, it was long and confusing but there are a few bits and this was the essence of it)

“wilbur is gone. this isn’t happening. he is dead. l’manburg is gone.”“it is real, i am real, he is real and he is dead.”“l’manburg is gone, i am real, i am l’manburg”.

(god. dude i could spend Months analyzing this one stream alone. there’s so much here.)

doesn’t that sound a bit like “my unfinished symphony”? wilbur and niki both attach their own self to the nation they fought for, and can see it as an extension of themself. they both destroy parts of it in acts of fear, attempting to save everyone else from what they’ve made.

what i pulled away from niki’s stream is that she’s not healing. i remember the chamber she locks herself in at night. i remember her refusal to eat. i remember how she was so angry at tommy, and she later realized that anger was misguided. niki genuinely believes that wilbur did not care about her, and that’s not surprising: when he died, she denied the fact that he was gone. she represses the things that she can’t handle, same as lots of other people. it is easier for her to pin her hurt on wilbur, because she needs somewhere to pin it. people feel more in control if they’re angry, not sad.

the song cc!niki said was for her character really emphasizes this. it’s a coping mechanism.

but even condemning wilbur won’t help, because she will still never get closure. niki cares about what others think of her, and so she can’t move on from someone hurting her. she can’t move on because she thinks he hated her. she is angry that he is back, but it is an opportunity for her to heal. she couldn’t heal when he was gone. she’s not the only one with a negative perception of wilbur, after all. he has one too. the two of them really need to talk.

i want niki to be healthy and safe. i want to see her heal so badly, and i do think it will happen. after wilbur died, his betrayal of her stayed with her, and it eventually became her memory of the betrayal that she hated, not the thing itself. it’s been months since it happened. niki wants to find an outlet for her hurt, because she wants to feel better. there’s a pattern i noticed: she only gets mad at people once she hasn’t seen the person themself for a while. and once she sees them and talks to them, and realizes that they care about her and don’t want to hurt her, she stops blaming them for it. she only hates her perception of them. example one? tommy.

man was in exile for a long time, and when he came back he “brought” fighting. that’s how niki saw it. but the fact that after she spent time with tommy (trying to kill him but. details, details) she forgave him because she saw it wasn’t his fault is a really good sign.

i genuinely think that speaking to wilbur will help niki, and it will also help wilbur. after all, they both hate wilbur. the entire perception of wilbur as some heartless, crazy manipulator needs to be shattered for both of their sakes. they both buy into it.

i want niki to know that others care about her, and that she has places she can feel safe. she hates that wilbur is invading the syndicate, because she’s scared of his memory hurting her. i don’t think wilbur will hurt her on purpose, because even though he sees himself as awful, he doesn’t hate her. he never did. usually, with people who have hurt someone else, i want them as far away from the person they hurt as possible. if wilbur does hurt niki i’ll probably cry. but again, it’s not him that hated her, or really him that hurt her in the way she thinks he did. when wilbur was dead, niki didn’t get any better. her memory of him festered and made her feel worse. that’s also why niki killing wilbur or hurting him somehow wouldn’t help her heal. i want wilbur to explain that he didn’t hate her. is wilbur even close to self aware enough to help niki? nah. this is going to take a Long time, and it’s going to hurt.

last thing i swear lol

during niki’s stream, she says that wilbur manipulated her. again, i watched pogtopia last night, and i’ve watched the rest of season one recently as well. i genuinely don’t see it. but i do think i know why she said it.

during season one, wilbur doesn’t manipulate niki. he doesn’t have a chance to later, he’s dead. so then, what is she talking about? of course it’s a perception, same as a lot of her other claims. i think she’s talking about how she cared for l’manburg.

niki joined the server as wilbur’s friend, to join his nation. she grew to care for l’manburg. she devoted herself to it, same as he did. but doomsday showed us that she hates that. in niki’s eyes, l’manburg only brought pain for people, and because she ties herself to it, she hates that she ever cared about it. she can’t allow herself to care for it, because it was used to hurt. so how does she cope with knowing that she once did? she pretends she didn’t.

if she can convince herself that it was wilbur who convinced her to care about l’manburg, she can avoid blaming herself for her own pain. and yeah, she shouldn’t blame herself for it. it’s not her fault. the entire situation is tragic and a little hopeless and once again really makes me hope that she recovers. l’manburg was ruined for her by others. schlatt, techno, dream, wilbur. again another place where she and wilbur are similar: they convince themselves they never cared about l’manburg because of the hurt it caused.

to summarize: wilbur’s going to get a shock soon. don’t know when, but probably the prison visit. something is going to shake his perception, the story is hurtling towards that. once he is able to take responsibility for what he did, and feel safe (because a lot of what he does now is out of fear of being alone or useless), then he and niki need to talk. niki needs something to get her out of her own head. she’s spiraling too. they are essential to each other’s recovery because of how much they meant (and mean) to each other.

anyways i miss early season one niki i liked it when she was happy :(

~ Lad 2

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART I - Literally can’t believe I just sat here and posted that 500 characters at a time lol I hope you’re not too disappointed with this, I’m well aware it’s a bit of a disaster but it’s been real nice sending it to you :))

haha its unreal but i loved it sm!!! thanks for sending <3 btw if you want to send me a summary, i can add it into the masterlist!

here’s part 1 in full!

Prince of Ashes. Part I.

masterlist.

Eris could feel his heart beating as he ran through the halls of The Forest House. His breaths were unsteady and panicked, but he tried to school his features into a mask of calm in case he ran into his father. He adjusted the sword at his side, had grabbed the weapon and shoved it messily in his belt as he’d rushed out of his room. The torches he passed along the walls flared brightly, as if in warning. Eris hoped his father hadn’t done anything foolish.

The rumble of magic that had passed through the estate could only mean something horrible had happened. Eris didn’t slow down as he practically slammed through the doors of his mother’s chambers, not caring that he hadn’t bothered to put a tunic over his thin undershirt and knowing he looked ridiculous in an old pair of brown leather boots.

Eris paused at what he saw once he spotted the woman who’d raised him. He was not expecting his mother to be weeping at the healthy babe in her arms, her shoulders hunched as her breath hitched every so often.

Eris had perfected his carefully crafted image. He was the Tamer of Flames, the Heir of Autumn, the Prince of Ashes. He was calculated and hateful on his good days, cruel and horrible on his bad days. He wanted to be a son his father could be proud of, and he wanted to be a son his mother could look in the eye. As he stood in the doorway of his mother’s room, he bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling very much like a nervous child instead.

“Mother,” Eris breathed, not knowing if he should approach. Eris had been in the middle of reading through some reports when he’d felt the magic, he must have looked a mess after having run through the halls of The Forest House like some youngling.

“Eris?” His mother asked through her tears, more emotion than Eris had seen from her in centuries. “What’s happened?” Eris said as he walked towards them, his tone uncharacteristically soft. The pulse of angry magic that Eris had felt minutes before had worried him, but looking at both his mother and the seemingly healthy child had Eris very confused.

His mother merely shook her head and carefully placed the little bundle in Eris’ arms. Eris had only ever held one of his brothers when they’d been this small and fragile. It must be a girl, Eris thought, why else would his father be so angry, why else would his mother weep. He felt an odd sadness, pitying any female born into this court. “I want to name him Lucien,” his mother whispered, as if it were a secret.

Eris was only more confused, “Cauldon bless him,” he muttered, moving the blankets so that he could peer at the face of his brother. The baby’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted as he huffed tiny breaths in his sleep.

“Eris, I must ask something of you,” his mother tugged on the loose sleeve of his shirt, her other hand wiping the tears from her cheeks. Eris was still looking at the child in his arms, but he nodded for her to go on. His mother never asked anything of him and Eris had never asked anything of his mother. “You must protect him.”

Eris nodded again. He thought he’d done a particularly good job at taking care of Rufus since his mother had been an empty shell when he’d been born. Not that Eris could blame her, he figured spending too much time around Beron was the cause. Eris had kept Rufus as far away from his father as he could, and while Rufus had a reputation for taking nothing seriously, all things considered, he was a good male.

“Give me your vow.” Eris furrowed his auburn brows, glancing to his mother as she gently took the child from his arms and placed him in his cradle. Strange, Eris thought, but would not question it. His mother had said it so firmly that Eris had been reminded of the female he remembered from his childhood. 

“I give you my vow, my solemn oath, to protect this child,” Eris said, unwavering eyes on his mother.

“Beron wants him dead,” she said softly, calmly.

“What?” Eris snapped, probably much harsher than he needed to be. 

“Your father wants to leave the babe to the elements,” she reached for Eris’s hand, but he jerked away from his mother. Fool, Eris thought, he was a fool. Hadn’t his father taught him since he could speak to never give anyone his oath. 

“Why?” Eris growled, and while he might have been frustrated with having agreed to his mother’s wishes, he was horrified at the thought that his father would kill an innocent child.

Even if the High Lord of the Autumn Court did not care much for his sons, he had always valued them as political pawns. Fae children were rare, his father had always known they would grow to be assets. Eris had spent much of his life fearing what his father would do to him and his brothers in anger, but he found a strange comfort in knowing Beron would never kill one of his sons. Eris looked at his mother, mouth dropping open slightly.

Eris took great pride in the fact that his emotions never openly showed on his face, not unless he wanted them to, but he couldn’t help it. Eris was a little horrified, a little concerned. His mother had gone off and had an affair, right under Beron’s nose, the runt in the cradle was his half-brother. Eris needed a strong fucking drink to swallow that realization. No. Beron would never kill one of his sons.

His mother looked at Eris with devastation, she sniffled once, ran a hand through her hair. She looked tired, but Eris couldn’t remember the last time his mother had looked so alive. “Eris, please, he… he is still your brother, please. Your father has doubts, but it is mere speculation.” She lifted her face to look up at her eldest son, “If he is under your protection …” She broke off then, looking at Eris with hopeful russett eyes.

Eris nearly flinched at her words, of course Lucien was still his brother, he thought. And not only that, but he’d vowed to keep the runt safe. Eris didn’t need to be a seer to know this vow would become a problem at some point, but he pushed those negative thoughts from his head. Eris moved to look into the crib, at the small babe inside it, “Are you sure about calling him Lucien?” 

His mother’s shoulders sagged with relief, “What’s the matter with it?”

Eris tilted his head to the side as he continued to stare at his youngest brother. “Mother, his name means sunshine in the Old Tongue, perhaps you should reconsider.” 

His mother flashed him a small smile, momentarily shocking Eris, “It means light.” 

“I hardly think that’s any better,” Eris was debating whether or not to ask who the father was when he heard the loud steps approaching the room, and he turned to face the carved doors of his mother’s chambers with a deep breath.

The doors slammed open with a loud crash, Eris was surprised the babe didn’t wake. “Give me the child,” Beron said with a frighteningly quiet voice. 

“Father,” Eris said, warning in his tone. Eris was many things, but he wasn’t an oath-breaker. 

“Do not involve yourself in matters that do not concern you,” Beron spat, “Give me the child.” 

Eris moved closer to his father, his hand moving towards the sword at his side, “Father.”

The High Lord of Autumn paused, looking at his son carefully. Eris let golden flames flare in his eyes. His father stood straighter, eyes flicking to the hand Eris had placed on the hilt of his weapon. “You would fight me, boy?” His father laughed with no amusement before he flashed a taunting smile in Eris’s direction, “You would fight me?” Eris knew that perhaps he should have reconsidered his approach to the whole situation when he felt the magic in the room swell.

The crackling magic that flowed through Eris’s veins was lethal, but not as strong as his father’s. Eris lifted his chin, “Father, leave the child.” Beron reached for his own weapon, and Eris drew his sword. His father was more experienced, and Eris knew his talents did not lie in combat, but he would fight for this. If he died, though, he worried what Beron would do to Rufus, but he wouldn’t let Beron leave Lucien to the elements. At least not without a fight.

“Eris!” His mother moved to stand between them, but Eris pushed her back with his arm. He would regret sending her crashing against the wardrobe later, but he was much too focused on his father to care too much about that now. Beron lunged at Eris with his sword, and Eris easily deflected the blow that was aimed at his chest. Eris’s amber eyes widened, but he wasn’t entirely sure why it shocked him to know that his father would strike to kill.

Eris had to lead his father away from his mother and the child, so with a small snarl Eris threw himself at his father, his sword arcing in the air. With a powerful blow, Beron stumbled out into the hall. The servants that had dutifully been attending to their business shrieked as their swords slammed together, the sound of metal against metal echoing as the servants ran away from them.

Beron was much stronger than Eris. He had been fighting for much longer, and Eris knew that if he started using his magic against his father, his father would respond with magic much stronger than his. Eris parried his father’s first series of blows, but it was an effort. High Lords were a different breed, and with each clash of their swords, Eris was reminded of that fact. “Ungrateful,” his father spat, cutting Eris on the thigh with a long swipe of his sword.

Eris heard his mother screaming at Beron to stop, and he knew that the cut along his leg was deep, but he managed to whirl out of the way of his father’s blade as it came frighteningly close to his neck. Eris put all his weight in the next swing of his sword, and Beron grinned as their swords met and they faced each other. “Why protect the little runt?” Beron’s grin merely widened, “You wish to have another brother fight you for the throne?”

Eris flashed him a crooked grin in return, ignoring the pain in his leg as he spoke to his father over the cross of their swords. “I am not afraid.” 

“Perhaps you should be.” Eris could not respond fast enough as his father stopped pushing against him, and Eris lost his balance. It was only a moment, but it was enough. Beron’s blade skidded across the edge of Eris’s sword, and Eris knew he had made a terrible mistake. Beron thrust his blade into Eris’ side.

Eris felt blank, he vaguely realized he’d cried out as his father twisted the blade before his own weapon fell from his weak fingers. He didn’t hear the sound of it as it dropped against the floor, the roaring in his ears was much too loud. “Are you happy now, Eris,” Beron said, putting a hand up to his son’s face in a strangely father-like gesture, the other still tightly gripping the sword in Eris’s side. “I have lost a son this night.”

Fingers curling in Eris’s long hair, Beron pulled his eldest son to him and placed a kiss to his temple. In his entire life, Beron had never shown any affection to Eris, and if Eris had been able to think properly, he would have been shocked. Eris groaned as his father yanked the blade back, his shaking hands going to the wound at his side as his legs faltered and he fell to his knees. Ruby red blood glimmered on the silver blade of his father’s sword.

Eris tried to take a deep breath, but found that his lungs wouldn’t let him. Eris coughed, feeling blood drip down his chin. He supposed that he should not have expected to beat his father in a duel. Eris felt like he was drowning. As a youngling he’d tripped on a rope and fallen off a dock in the Spring Court and into a lake, not knowing how to swim and in a panic, Eris had thrashed as water filled his lungs.

Each breath had burned in a way that Eris had never imagined he’d feel as the heir of the Autumn Court. Surely, Eris would have died had his mother not pulled him out of the water, sobbing as she’d told him to hold her hand next time. His mother was sobbing now as she fell to her knees in front of Beron, begging him to stop. Eris slumped forward with a gasp, the burning feeling in his chest becoming nearly unbearable.

He made a strange choked noise as more blood filled his mouth and Eris gritted his teeth as someone dropped down by his side. “You alright, Eris?” Rufus asked, his face close to Eris’s as he put his hands around Eris’s arm, trying to help him up. Eris looked at his younger brother through the curtain of his red hair, “Hello, hey, you alright?” Rufus repeated, russett eyes wide.

“Never better,” Eris rasped as more blood dripped from his mouth onto the marble floors. Eris tried to lift himself up with Rufus’s help. He couldn’t stand, Eris noticed, and put all his weight on his younger brother. Rufus laughed nervously, the sound hollow to Eris’s ears. Holding a hand to the wound on Eris’ side and abandoning his attempt to get Eris up off the floor, Rufus moved the hair from Eris’s face. With the back of his hand, Rufus wiped at the blood along Eris’s chin before he spoke. Eris wasn’t really worried, but he could tell from the tone of Rufus’s voice that he probably should be. 

Cato’s voice rang like a bell in the nearly empty hall, “What the hells happened here?” Calm and steady and definitely not worried. Cato would soon become heir, Eris thought briefly, all his brother had ever wanted and he hadn’t even lifted a finger to get it. 

“Your brother seems to have forgotten his place,” Beron replied with equal calm.

Rufus snarled softly, having been the youngest of six for thirty years, no one paid him any attention, especially not father, and Eris knew Rufus favoured him. Eris would be lying if he told anyone he didn’t favour Rufus as well. Eris could feel his eyelids drooping, but he watched as Maddox ran towards them from the other side of the hall, Priam close behind him. Eris felt heavy, so he leaned into Rufus, pain flaring through his side.

His vision was becoming blurred and he could barely hear his mother begging Beron to spare him and Lucien. The last thing Eris remembered before he lost consciousness was staring at his sword, thinking that the ruby eyes of the lion’s head on the hilt glowed with flames.

[omegawolverine]

I love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, tell me something cool!! Anything you want, just something you find interesting or want to talk about :D

hello anon my beloved, I am in a bad mood so you will be receiving a passionate, yet lowkey of pissy rant about why villainizing bakugou makes me wanna vomit and its NOT just because I'm a dumbass kinnie :)

tws: child abuse (emotional and physical), near death expierences, bullying, kidnapping, suffocation, lots of trauma in general tbh. if you've seen bnha then basically just keep all the general triggering plot stuff in mind incase i missed any warnings

also, note: I havent caught up on bnha in a minute, I'm at like the start of the war arc but I barely remember shit there tbh so like. probs missing new stuff. also bnha spoiler warnings lol

so, for starters, the homie bakugou has like,, a good handful of issues that come from his childhood that explain why he's an ass. he was always praised and never actually reprimanded for being a twat which led to him having a huge ego that ended up fucking him over majorly. this ego was something that his mother acknowledged him having, but literally didnt try to fix it with anything other than violence. see here:

like, instead of trying to help him, she hits and insults him, which is probably what led to his weird inferiority/superiority complex. being constantly told by others that you're outstanding and one day you'll be a top hero because you're rude and aggressive and then going home and being hit by your mother for those exact same behaviors is bound to fucking confuse a child.

so like, now that we've established that its definetly canon that his mother (parents? I think he said parents at some point but masaru doesn't seem like the type so 🤷) hits him though we don't know how much or how often (though if bakugou was as much of a little shit back then ((which as far as we've seen- he was)) then it was probably often), lets talk about how regardless of all that 1) hitting your kids as "discipline" not only doesn't work but is abusive lol like idc if it's spanking/popping them on the mouth for talking shit, slapping them across the face "on occasion", etc. shits not okay 2) hitting your kids!!!! does not work!!!!!!!! it is literally PROVEN not to work!!!!!!!! hitting a child who has done something wrong doesnt teach them to stop doing something it teaches them to be scared of you, which will cause the child to withdraw, removing part of their support system (assuming said abusive parents would even offer that up) and will most likely lead to them thinking they're a bad person, not that their actions were bad, which are two different things. so, ya know, that would clearly have an effect on a kid. like, as someone with a mother who reminds me all too much of mitsuki: I have acted like a complete shitbag and taken my anger out on people to feel better in the past because of the way my mother treated me. though it was nowhere near what bakugou did, I still know first fucking hand what a mother hitting and insulting her child will do, especially if they have no proper outlet for that (friends, a safe place to vent) which bakugou never fucking had.

theres also the fact that just talking to your kid the way mitsuki does (saying it's his fault he was kidnapped because he's weak, all while hitting him) is not??? okay?????? ive seen people arguing that this was just a joke in poor taste but like her son was KIDNAPPED and even if it was a "joke" there's literally NO WAY that would EVER?? BE FUNNY??????? she just sounds like the kind of parent who at the very least says shit without thinking that would traumatize bakugou (because being told right after being kidnapped it's your fucking fault by your mother is absolutely traumatizing) but it comes across as her being emotionally abusive.

mitsukis character as a whole comes across as a shitty mom who doesn't realize she's a shitty mom and thinks bakugou being an ass isn't at least partially her fault even though she's admitted to realizing he has always had an ego problem and doing nothing to fix it except for hitting and yelling which obviously did nothing but make him just as loud and violent as she is.

this is obviously not the entire reason why he's a dick but he was never properly taught that the shit he was doing wasn't okay and people not stopping it and/or praising him endlessly even tho he was a bully is basically the same as encouraging it, thank you very much.

moving on from that, let's talk about bakugous other traumas and how he naturally responds to them. hint: it's with either full blown panic or a fight response (verbal or physical, though usually physical. also sometimes it's the panic followed by the fight response.)

so far in bnha (keep in mind that I am not caught up, I've only read up to the beginning of the war arc and i barely remember those bits so) bakugou has...

nearly died via sludge villain (he was unable to move and was being suffocated to death- keep this in mind)

lost for the first time ever and against deku of all people (this nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack, likely because of that sexy little inferiority/superiority complex combo. think of this as like. gifted kid burnout lite. he has always been the best of the best and now suddenly he is being beaten by somebody who has always been weaker than him, which immediately makes him start thinking he was never actually that good, he's actually a fucking failure, a goddamn fraud)

won the sports festival by default (bakugou counts this as yet another failure because todoroki didnt try his best. had bakugou lost to todoroki full strength, he would've taken 2nd place with a bit of bitching, but he still wouldve taken it rather than refuse the medal as it would be a reminder that he failed. instead of accepting that like UA shouldve, the staff chained and muzzled him on live television and then had all might, his fucking idol, force the medal into his mouth. remember the sludge villain incident and how he couldnt move and was suffocating to death? yeah.)

been kidnapped because of the way he reacted to winning during the sports festival (he was aggressive and tried to refuse the medal because he felt he didnt deserve it and was then retraumatized by being chained up and muzzled. his "villainous attitude" was a fucking trauma response, do not tell me otherwise)

was then chained up once again by the LOV after being kidnapped,,, do we see the "retraumatize bkg" theme yet?

"ended all might" (he literally blames himself for all mights retirement because had he just not have been weak, all might wouldve had more time, right?)

my point with all of these is that bakugou has been severely traumatized and has then had his trauma responses (aggression, fight) used to further demonize him. not all people with trauma react the fucking same and the way the fandom just refuses to acknowledge anger as a valid form of trauma response is gross as hell.

moving away from that topic, bakugou has literally never had any actual friends, they all just used him and didn't care about him which absolutely will fuck up a kid, especially one who already has all that other shit going on. bakugou deadass never had a support system or people to help him grow as a person, let alone properly work through his fucking emotions so it's not surprising that he would take out his bullshit on the one person who tried to help him especially considering he saw dekus actions as him thinking he was weak. bakugou was raised to not seek help, he thought somebody strong shouldnt ever need it, so for somebody like deku (who bakugou percieved as weak and helpless already) to offer up help? deku must obviously think bakugou is even weaker than him, what other explanation could their possibly be!

speaking of which, there's his heaps of insecurities that he basically hid by being a twat and bullying others for most of his life. kid was so insecure he bullied deku for fucking years cause he thought deku looked down on him, thought he was better than him, etc. and that only got worse bc his idol then decided to take deku in, train him and even give him his quirk. there's probably some shit im missing but still he's got issues and always has had issues. that being said, he's actually improving and working them out now which is what makes him a really good, interesting character. it's also nice to see a character who is a dick without some tragic backstory (like his backstory is sad but its not the classic "my family was fucking slaughtered and i turned into a raging bitch who murders people" type shit) bc that rarely happens and it's like most assholes don't actually have a story like that they're just assholes lol

now lets talk improvement! lil bitch has been getting better since he got into UA and im so happy abt it!! he had a rough start what with deku suddenly having a quirk and all but like he is really improving now and it highkey shows that bakugou just mostly needed people who 1) didn't constantly praise him and actually criticized him instead 2) actually fucking punished him doing stupid shit and 3) some motherfucking friends

Since going to UA he's gotten actually feedback from teachers about his weaknesses and how to get stronger, he's lost against others, hes been told he has a shit attitude and is a dick, told he should be nicer and leave deku alone, etc etc. He hasn't gotten in trouble too much with teachers but others give him shit for what he does and aizawa has punished him too, while still acknowledging that bakugou is an amazing and dedicated student, something which no one else had done up til that point. and uh???? homie actually has friends who like,,, don't use him and also call him out when he's a dick. like specifically kirishima has done this shit and him and bakugous relationship is clearly very healthy and beneficial for the both of them. makes me feel all happy n shit, ya know

bottom line is: while it is absolutely valid to dislike or even hate bakugou because he is a massively flawed person who has been very cruel to others, villainizing him for the way he acts which in large part seems to be from a lack of guidance, a shitty mother and heavy amounts of trauma, is fucking awful. his actions cannot be fucking excused, he needs to apologize and continue to grow, but he is also a fucking teenager, who is just now being told that the way he acts is unacceptable by people who dont fucking abuse him (and I swear to god if any people who think mitsuki isnt abusive interact with this fucking post I will fullstop hardblock you, I do not fucking care) and actually treat him like a normal person instead of some prodigy child or someone who needs to be fixed.

people are free to debate my points or whatever bc I know some of this stuff is up to interpretation but like. dni if you're just here to say you hate bakugou for xyz reason or that he's irredeemable. also especially dni if you compare him to fucking endeavor yall bitches make me gag.

anyways thxs for the ask anon <33 sorry this is a kinda messy info dump lol

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 286: VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “what’s the record for most consecutive bone breaks within the span of a single minute” and, without waiting for an answer, proceeded to unleash roughly 17 Smashes onto Tomura. Kacchan was all “THAT DOES IT, I’M TAKING THE REINS OF THIS SHITSHOW” and carried Endeavor and Shouto up to where the action was so Endeavor could hit Tomura with a Prominence Burn. AFO was all “Tomura would you rather burn to death or let me take over your body” and Tomura was all “...” and so AFO TOOK OVER and was all “STABBITY STABBITY” and used his Stabbing Quirk to do some Good Old Fashioned STABBIN’. First he stabbed Endeavor, and then he was all “hee and now I’m gonna stab Deku”, but Kacchan was all “SIR THAT’S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT RIVAL” and so he rushed on in AND GOT HIMSELF STABBED INSTEAD. And so basically THIS PAST WHOLE WEEK HAS BEEN A RIDE, LET ME TELL YOU.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “sup Deku lemme just downplay how I totally took this fatal blow for you just now” before he dramatically passes out and is caught by Todoroki “BTDUBS I CAN FLY NOW” Shouto, who is also carrying his dad because the kids really are just doing it all, here. AllForRaki Tomura For One is all “HAHA BAKUGOU IS PRETTY DUMB”, at which point Deku just LOSES IT ENTIRELY and ASCENDS INTO A NEW PLANE OF FURY LIKE A LITTLE GREEN RAGE BUDDHA. But then like two seconds later Tomura is all “ANYWAY, SO” and FUCKING TOUCHES DEKU’S FACE, CAUSING THE TWO OF THEM TO ASTROPROJECT INTO THE FREAKY OFA/AFO MINDSCAPE BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS BANANAS. Vestige!AFO is all “reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated but aren’t you glad I saved your life though, Tomura”, while Tomura is all “!!” because he’s hopefully starting to get A Clue, and meanwhile Deku just stands there watching all “what the fuck.” The chapter ends with SHIMURA MCFUCKING NANA showing up all, “HI, I HEARD SOME BITCHES WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC, AND THEY DIDN’T INVITE ME.” Go on, Nana. Give ‘em hell.

you guys. I’m not normally one to take pleasure in another human being’s misfortune. BUT THAT SAID, there are exceptions to every rule, and so let’s just say certain events have transpired early this morning which have PUT ME IN A VERY, LET’S JUST SAY, NOT-TERRIBLE MOOD which this chapter will hopefully improve upon!!

oh my god Deku’s one non-fucked-up eye that he still has control over is SO WIDE YOU GUYS

hmm I know I shouldn’t be all (゜▽゜) while the two of them are all (； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) ... and yet here we are. btw I’m worried tumblr’s formatting will ruin those two emojis which I worked so hard to get just right so I’m gonna repost them on another line here just in case

(； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) that’s them. Kacchan and Deku. my boys 

HERE COMES THE CHEESY “JUST GOT STABBED BETTER PLAY IT OFF ALL COOL!!!” ONE LINER OH MY GOD

(ETA: really love how my son, with what for all he knows could be his dying breaths, decides that the absolute most important thing is to preserve his selfish asshole facade so as not to fuck up his status quo with his rival. “LOOKEE HERE I GOT MYSELF ALL STABBED AND SHIT FOR YOU, BUT I TOTALLY JUST DID IT BECAUSE I WAS TIRED OF YOU GETTING ALL THE COOL HERO MOMENTS” yeah, that’s right! SELFLESS MOTIVATIONS, WHAT ARE THOSE sob.

also tbh I’m glad they didn’t delve any further into their feelings right here and now because this really isn’t the place or time for it sadly. WE WILL JUST PUT THOSE ON HOLD UNTIL AFTER THE ARC ENDS, when they are all recovering from their various wounds and traumas and have time to catch up and have some long-overdue heart-to-hearts. it deserves its own chapter or two or three. maybe time to head back to Ground Beta once they’re healthy? “healthy” perhaps being a relative term given their current condition fjsdjkf.)

by the way it looks from here like only the ones through his torso and shoulder actually hit, so that’s something at least. WE’VE LOST ENOUGH LEGS TODAY. I need to conserve my remaining puns

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS HAVING A CRISIS

ARE YOU MAD AT YOUR EVIL DAD TOMURA. HE JUST WON’T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER WILL HE, THAT GUY

anyway so it looks like Kacchan might have caught a break here because AFO/Tomura is pulling the stabby quirk activation tendril things back out! rip, “Kacchan vs. Deku part 3″ theories

p.s. I got ALL CAUGHT UP IN THE DRAMA and thus glossed over the chapter title which is “one among us”! hmmm this is definitely AFO/OFA related, calling it now. ooh lord I am excited

NOW MY SON IS DRAMATICALLY FALLING

THE BLOOD FROM THE MOUTH OOF NOT GOOD AHHHH. DEKU’S FACE AHHHH. HIS BODY JUST WENT TOTALLY LIMP DID HE PASS OUT AHHHH. SOMEONE CATCH HIM!!

BY HIS FOOT, SHOUTO?!

well NOT EXACTLY THE MOST GRACEFUL THING I’VE EVER SEEN, but we’ll allow it because HOLY SHIT BOY. ARE YOU ALREADY CARRYING YOUR DAD ON TOP OF THAT?? HORIKOSHI PLEASE CONFIRM, IS TODOROKI MOTHERFUCKING SHOUTO FUCKING FLYING AROUND UNBALANCED AF ON HIS ONE FLAMEY LEG, CARRYING HIS 500 LB POP AND NOW HIS FLOPPY PASSED OUT BEST FRIEND AS WELL?!? HOLY SHIT TODO?!?!

LADIES AND GENTLEFRIENDS OF THE VILLAIN STANDOM, FEAR NOT, TOMURA’S HAIR IS THE FIRST THING THAT GREW BACK LOL

even before his eyeballs kfldkakjk. which, btw, how does he even know what’s going on right now? “this fight has shed a lot of useless blood” sdkmkjl okay well (1) WHOSE FAULT WAS THAT, AGAIN??, (2) SERIOUSLY THOUGH, HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU STABBED?? ARE YOU EFFECTIVELY BLIND FOR THE NEXT FEW SECONDS HERE, WHAT’S GOING ON, and lastly (3) I seriously can’t tell if this is AFO or Tomura talking right now. or are they going back and forth?? help this is so confusing

HEY

THE DISRESPECT. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW KACCHAN ANGST IS NEVER USELESS!!

AND NOW HE’S BACK TO THE STABBING JFKJLKJLF I AM NOT TOO HAPPY WITH YOU RIGHT NOW MISTER

okay and now we’re cutting to some quick panels of the unconscious Aizawa, Gran, and Ryuukyuu, along with the “still conscious but in a very real sense might as well not be counted” Manual who is really having a day, that poor guy

anyway but then there’s also some dialogue boxes being all “if you act out of rage your power will respond accordingly, the most important part is to keep your head clear.” which I’m like 90% sure is Deku/OFA related, but honestly NOTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER IS CLEAR SO FAR YOU GUYS. except for the Shouto-is-a-badass part anyway

HMM YEP I’M GONNA GO WITH DEKU-RELATED

it must be a callback to some line I’m forgetting. maybe Lariat explaining Blackwhip to him that one time. probably should have been in italics if it was a flashback quote, but hey. anyways the point is Deku is absolutely, 100% following this advice to the letter (/s)

(ETA: yep I’m almost positive this is the same quote from chapter 213. “listen, when you use this power out of anger, it’ll really start working for you. what really matters is controlling your heart.” which is still one of the weirdest pieces of advice in the entire series, but basically I think he was just trying to tell him it’s okay to get mad, so long as it’s calmly mad. like, controlled fury, as opposed to this white-hot berserker nonsense he’s been running on as of late. anyways I do still love me some shounen rage all the same but Lariat has a point.)

...

it took me a minute to realize THOSE WERE DEKU’S EYES. holy --

AND ANOTHER MINUTE TO REALIZE THAT DEKU FUCKING GRABBED THE ACTIVATION TENDRIL WITH HIS BUSTED UP OFA HANDS AND BIT INTO IT WITH HIS RABID OFA JAWS AND SNAPPED THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING KITKAT KLJLKSJDLKJFLK WOOOOOOOO I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT GODDAMN. POWER MOVE

(ETA: this is a two-page spread omg. I didn’t even realize at first. this scan ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT DO THIS BADASS PAGE ANY KIND OF JUSTICE but I can’t wait to see the real deal on Sunday holy shit.)

LMAO

DEKU RAGED SO HARD HE TURNED INTO AN ANGRY GHOST SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FKLSKG

(ETA: he actually looks a bit like the Vestiges/Kurogiri tbh.)

meanwhile Tomura basically has the exact same face I would have had in his position. yeah for real man. I don’t even know

p.s. WHEN will people learn to STOP INSULTING KACCHAN IN DEKU’S PRESENCE. WHEN, I ASK!!

WHAT IN THE CINNAMON TOAST FUCK

if this was a physical page I was holding I would have FLUNG THAT SHIT AWAY LIKE THERE WAS A SPIDER CRAWLING ON IT. WHAT THE FUCK

HOT DAMN. well uh. so that’s SUPER DISTURBING, what a lovely panel of Tomura’s melted face slowly growing back while his ears lag behind, and meanwhile that little scar that had been growing and growing and which at one point certain people (ME) thought might turn him into a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERLY instead RIPS HIS FACE IN HALF to reveal the KINDER EGG AFO SURPRISE UNDERNEATH AHHHHH TAKE IT BACK

THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T LET MAD SCIENTISTS PERFORM EXPERIMENTS ON YOU, KIDS. PSA. JUST SAY NO

-- NO!!!

HORIKOSHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fuck

oh my god. I almost would have rather cut away right after the Kacchan incident than freaking cut away NOW of all times, jesus. THAT’S JUST A BITCH MOVE, IS WHAT THAT IS. if we don’t cut back within the next three pages I SWEAR TO GOD

anyway so GUESS WHAT GIGANTOMACHIA’S DOING YOU GUYS. if you guessed “the exact same thing he was doing last time we saw him” then you are absolutely right, because it was actually PRETTY EASY TO GUESS

anyway but he says he detects “master’s scent”, except that there’s apparently two of them. interesting! one in Tartarus and one in Jakku, right? lol Horikoshi has burned me so many times already with his excruciatingly slow reveal of this that I’m not gonna hold my breath just yet, but I’ll get the hype train warmed up JUST IN CASE

okay so meanwhile in downtown Jakku, the heroes are handing off the civilians over to the police and rescue forces while they prepare to engage with “the villain”, by which I assume they mean Gigantomachia. does this mean Iida and Ochako are gonna fight Machia you guys omg

OOH!!!

“PLEASE INFORM THEM ON FOOT” well I know a certain SPEEDY BOI who would be PERFECT for that job oh my. make haste, Tenyar FastmLeggy

WAIT WHICH WAY ARE THEY HEADING

ARE THEY HEADING TOWARDS MACHIA OR TOWARDS DEKU AND AFO

so rather than answering my VERY PERTINENT question, Ochako is instead spending an entire page thinking about how their complete clusterfuck of a life keeps getting exponentially worse all the time! well but she’s not wrong though

NOW SHE’S ALL “GUYS...!” and, rather than explaining ANYTHING AT ALL, Horikoshi is again cutting back to THIS, OMG AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: good thing Kacchan wasn’t awake to see his dramatic “I’ll just get myself impaled for Deku’s sake” plan result in this outcome ALL OF TWENTY SECONDS LATER smdh.)

I ACTUALLY PREFER MY DEKUS NON-CRUMBLED, THANKS. ALSO JUST ON A SIDE NOTE, POOR SHOUTO THOUGH. THE LAST NINETY SECONDS OR SO HAVE BEEN ENOUGH NIGHTMARE FUEL FOR A LIFETIME HAVEN’T THEY

so now he’s all “MIDORIYA!!!” because OF COURSE HE IS. his best friend just got impaled, and his dad too, and now he fully expects to see his other best friend crumble to dust right before his eyes holy shit. T R A U M A ™

-- !!!

somehow in the excitement of the moment I forgot his actual goal for a sec lol. meaning I instantaneously switched from HORRIFIED to GRINNING LIKE A MANIAC :D :D :D come on OFA time to show him what’s what

AND NOW WE’RE SWITCHING OVER TO EVERYONE’S FAVORITE TRIPPY DREAM LANDSCAPE FOR ADDITIONAL DRAMA, WELL OKAY

I’M ON BOARD WITH THIS, WHATEVER. also it’s becoming increasingly apparent that Deku is in fact nekkid underneath that mystical cloud bs, so let’s hope one of his remaining yet-to-be-unlocked quirks is a pants-conjuring quirk lulz

“this place...” yeah we all fucking know what this place is son, let’s get on with this. by my count we’ve only got four pages left so PLEASE BUDGET THEM WISELY

OH MY

holy shit. I have so many screaming thoughts about this lol but I just want to keep on reading lkjlkjlkjl okay I’ll come back later and edit them in, how’s that

OR MAYBE I’LL JUST RANT ABOUT THEM NOW GODDAMMIT

shit. okay let me just try and sum this up as quick as I can

so just in case it wasn’t already crystal clear, AFO’s soul being roommates with Tomura’s seems to be just about 100% confirmed now. good for you, All For One For All theory!! the “Kacchan loses his quirk” theory died so that you might live on in glory

AFO does seem to have almost fully taken control now. it looks like Tomura’s still fighting back, but AFO clearly has the upper hand now if their body language is any indication. Tomura on his knees with AFO calmly holding him down and ignoring his struggles... not looking too good for him at the moment

people seem to have somewhat lost sight of this in the midst of the great “heroes vs. villains Who Is Right Who Is Wrong What Are Morals” debate of 2020, but just a friendly reminder that AFO is in fact responsible for 100% of all of Tomura’s suffering from pretty much the moment he was born up till this very moment we’re now witnessing!! like, you can go ahead and blame Nana and Gran and The Complacent Apathy Of Hero Society and whatever the fuck else from here till Sunday, but All for One is the reason Kotarou was orphaned. All for One is almost certainly the reason why the seemingly quirkless Tenko suddenly just magically developed THE MOST FUCKED UP QUIRK OF ALL TIME at the worst possible moment. All for One is probably the reason why no one helped Traumatized Baby Tenko in the immediate aftermath (I can and likely will write a separate post about this in the near future). All for One is definitely the reason why no one helped Tenko at any point after that. All for One is the reason why Tenko grew up all fucked in the head (“HERE’S YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S HANDS, MERRY CHRISTMAS”), and the reason why he grew up blaming Heroes and Society rather than the sole person who was actually responsible who was literally standing right in front of him the entire time. and lastly, All for One is the reason why Tomura has now been manipulated into unknowingly sacrificing his own body and possibly even his mind. so THANKS A LOT FOR THAT. more like jerk for one amiright

basically what I’m trying to say is that Deku and Tomura are not actually enemies here, and they never have been. the two of them have a common enemy, and I’m convinced Tomura’s story is about him eventually coming to realize this. and this looks to be the first step towards that, for two reasons. one, because AFO is finally starting to out himself to Tomura as the rat bastard he has always been. and two, because Deku is catching a glimpse of this now for the very first time. up until now he didn’t have a damn clue lol. but this is now something for him to file away in the back of his mind, and perhaps follow up on at a later date, once all of this craziness finally subsides and he has some time to process

anyway, so that’s basically it! tl;dr AFO is the final villain and unless I’m very much mistaken, this scene is going to finally start to set that up. let’s read on!

OMG

NANA?!?

lKDSJFLKSHGLISHDOGIHOLRKL

NOOOOOO I can’t believe it fucking ended there I can’t fucking believe it, fuck everything

smdh. what a place to end it. didn’t confirm a damn thing. not even whose mental landscape all of this is actually taking place in! like, don’t mind me though Horikoshi, it’s not like THE FATE OF THE WORLD HINGES ON THIS QUESTION OR ANYTHING except oh wait it really kind of does. kljkj

but seriously. because if it’s Deku’s mind, it means that Tomura’s attempt to take his quirk wasn’t successful. but if it’s Tomura’s mind, though... well... hhhhhhkhfff

or it could be both, I guess. more of that “AFO and OFA are the same quirk and thus linked” goodness. oh man. anyways stay tuned for next week when Nana presumably helps Deku out with the rest of that black fog and also hopefully finds him some pants. or maybe Nana can just go fight AFO herself. a little payback for everything he’s done to her protege and to her grandson. either way I CAN’T WAIT omg. VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

[ghstandpucks]

Toe Pick ~ Jeff Skinner

Hello! Sorry I have kinda been MIA, I’ve had a lot going on personally lately. This idea came to my head though and I could not pass up writing it! I just love the fact that Jeff was a figure skater lol I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! Enjoy!

Summary: Being partnered with Jeff as a pairs team caused you both to rely on each other at an early age. When life’s ‘toe picks’ come along though, your friendship was tested. And when a toe pick later on throws you back into each others lives, will it be the same?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Master List 

The toe pick at the front of a figure skater’s blade can either create phenomenal moments in a routine, or can bring a skater down. The sharp points can do some damage, but also give the ability to fly when tapped correctly into the ice. You can often hear figure skaters talk about toe picks, and for two kids in particular, saying “toe pick” when they stumbled became a game. On and off the ice, the two were inseparable. That was, until a ‘toe pick’ in life took them away from one another.

Past ~ 2000

           Eight-year-old Jeff Skinner was working on his flying camel, waiting for his coach to get on the ice and start his lesson. It wasn’t just any lesson today though. He was scheduled to meet a new girl who just joined the skating club, one that his coach thought would pair with him perfectly for a pair skating event. Jeff wasn’t so sure about skating with a partner at first, but then after watching a senior skating pair perform, he changed his mind. The throws and different spins that could be done with a skating partner interested him, so he let his coach talk him into it.

He had been told that the new girl had just moved to the area. You were also a single skater with promising talent and a year younger than Jeff. His coach had watched you try out for their skating club, and asked if you would be interested in pairs skating as your showman-like style was almost uncannily the same as Jeff’s. You smiled and nodded, just excited to be accepted into the prestigious club.

           As Jeff stopped what he was doing to look at the clock on the wall, he felt someone run into his back. “Sorry! Toe pick,” a giggle came from behind him. He turned and saw a girl about his age, grinning with a missing tooth off to the side. Jeff laughed to himself.

           “It’s fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had never seen you before, and started to think you may be who he was being partnered up with.

           “I’m fine! I’m Y/N. I just moved here,” you introduced yourself. Jeff smiled, a toothy grin that matched yours.

           “I’m Jeff. Are you skating pairs?” he asked, and you nodded.

           “I was singles, but they asked me to switch when I tried out. I don’t know who I’m partnered with though,” you admitted.

           “I think you might be my new partner…” was all Jeff was able to say before his coach skated over to the two of you.

           “Jeff, I see you’ve already met Y/N. I think you two will get along great. If you’re both warmed up, why don’t we get started with the basics,” Ms. Seale said, and the two young skaters nodded. The next hour was spent learning how to stand and skate in perfect unison, the two kids fitting each other’s speed and style flawlessly, almost as if they were meant to be paired up.

           Three years later, you and Jeff were still skating pairs and about to enter your first junior’s national competition. After taking the ice for your groups warm up, the two of you waited off to the side with your coach running back and forth to see where the order of skaters was at. “Don’t drop me,” you leaned into Jeff as you always did before a performance.

           “You trust me?” he grinned at you, holding out his pinky.

           “Always,” you smiled back, wrapping your pinky around his. Pinky promises became a thing for the two of you when you first started learning lifts. You were nervous, and Jeff promised that he would never drop you. He had always kept that promise, even going as far as breaking your fall with his own body just to keep your trust. Your coach came to get you a few minutes later, and grabbing your hand Jeff led you out onto the ice. You took silver at that competition, the names Jeff Skinner and Y/N Y/L/N becoming known in the competition circuit.

           Two years after that, when Jeff was 13 and you were 12, Jeff hurt himself while doing a double axel. The two of you had just won junior nationals and were working on senior level moves. His injury caused you to pull out of an upcoming competition, the both of you devastated. “I’m really sorry Y/N,” Jeff said one evening as the two of you were doing homework together. Being skating partners had drawn the two of you close together on and off the ice. You trusted Jeff with your life, and may have formed a small crush on him over the years.

           “It’s okay J. It’s just a toe pick in the plan. You’ll heal and we’ll be back out there before you know it,” you tried to reassure him.

           “What if I don’t though?” he asked, worried this injury could be more serious than either of you were thinking.

           “Hey, do you trust me?” you asked, holding your pinky out toward him. He grinned and this time wrapped his pinky around yours.

           “Always.”

           Unfortunately, the injury Jeff sustained took a while to heal. It also caused him to choose between hockey and figure skating. Jeff didn’t want to give up on you, but he also wanted to pursue hockey. You smiled when he told you and supported him the best you could, even though you went home that day and cried your eyes out. How were you supposed to find a new partner? You and Jeff had been skating together for five years at that point, you didn’t want to start over with someone else. You tried though, and eventually found a partner that was compatible enough to compete with. Jeff would ask you how things were going when you saw each other, and you would always lie, saying things were great when really you couldn’t stand your new partner.

           Though the two of you stayed friends for a while, you always going to Jeff’s hockey games and him coming to open skate and competitions for you, you eventually drifted apart when Jeff graduated high school. You couldn’t help but feel like when Jeff traded in his toe picks for hockey skates, he traded you in as well. A few years later you closed the door on your skating career after a particularly bad injury, and the memories were all that was left of the toothless grinning boy you had first met on the ice that one day way back when.

Present Day­

           Take the job in Buffalo they said, you muttered to yourself as once again your socks were all wet from not wearing the proper foot wear and stepping in a puddle on the way to the rink. It had been years since you skated competitively, now being 27. When you graduated high school, you went to college and earned a degree in media, sticking with sports. You mainly stuck around the figure skating circuit, also finding a job as a coach to put yourself through college. A month ago, a job was offered to you at a local news station in Buffalo as their sports reporter, and you jumped at the opportunity.

           When you arrived at the rink, you changed into your tights and leggings. Skating always destressed you, and after settling in to your new place and trying to learn the ropes of the station, you needed some time to unwind. Only a few people were skating, the rink being otherwise deserted as the weather outside wasn’t the kindest at the moment.

           Stepping out onto the ice, a relaxed smile spread across your face. You mindlessly curved on your edges, letting muscle memory take over. Ever so briefly did you let your eyes close, basking in the chill of the air and the sounds of your blades carving through the ice. A moment later though, you were pulled out of your head as your blade caught a particularly deep rivet in the ice, causing you to trip forward on your toe pick. With a squeak you were almost ashamed of leaving your mouth, you fell into the back of a stranger. “Oh my God, I am so so sorry! I caught my toe pick and…” you trailed off as the stranger turned around.

           “Toe picks can be nasty, no worries,” he smiled at you, then stopped himself. It would have been the perfect romcom meet-cute, if the two of you hadn’t recognized each other in an instant. “Y/N?” Jeff asked, not entirely believing you were this beautiful woman who just collided with him.

           “J,” you whispered, shocked as well. “What are you doing here?”

           “I play for Buffalo?” he said, smiling but unsure at the moment. You were honestly the last person he expected to see that morning. Your face went red out of embarrassment. Of course you had followed his career; you knew he was in Buffalo but in the haste of your move you forgot.

           “I knew that,” you mumbled out, and blushed at his chuckle. Why was it after all these years, you could feel your crush resurfacing the second he smiled at you?

           “I’m more curious as to why you’re here?” he asked, leaning on his hockey stick.

           “Just moved actually. I’m a sports reporter now for the local Buffalo news,” you smiled at him and Jeff grinned.

           “No shit!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around him, feeling at home for once in this new city.

           A week had passed and you had talked to Jeff every day of it. What started out as a “How are you settling in?” text, turned into constant messages, a quick phone call, and even a facetime when he was on the road that weekend, with plans made for coffee the following week when he was back.

           That coffee turned into lunch, which turned into Jeff taking you around to a few places and now the two of you were at dinner, having spent the whole day together. The two of you were catching up, and easily fell into your younger selves where physical contact wasn’t a big deal because you were constantly holding hands on the ice. It was as if the years had never passed, and you realized your feelings for Jeff had never truly gone away. He would smile at you, and just like that you were seven years old again running into him your first day at the rink. “Are you working Friday night?” Jeff asked as he drove you home that evening.

           “No, I’m off actually. Why?” you asked. Jeff cleared his throat, seeming a little nervous about what he was going to say next.

           “Would you want to come to my game? I can get you a ticket,” he said, glancing at you quickly. You smiled and nodded.

           “I would love to!” you said, a little too enthusiastically but it made Jeff visibly relax. “You don’t have to get me a ticket though. I can buy one.”

           “No. It’s the first pro game of mine that you’ll be at, I’m getting you a ticket,” he stated, then added, “Don’t argue with me,” as you opened your mouth to do so.

           “Thank you,” was all you said with a giggle. Jeff smiled as you both fell back into an easy conversation.

~ ~ ~

           Friday came and you were being shown to your seat at the arena by an attendant. You thanked him and sat down, waiting for the Sabres to take the ice. Looking around, you twiddled your thumbs at being right up against the glass. What did Jeff do to get you this seat? Before you could second guess coming though, the team took the ice and you immediately found your old skating partner. A few minutes later he locked eyes with you and skated over with a big grin. He tugged on his jersey and pointed at you as you smiled back at him. You had bought a Sabres’ jersey for the occasion, Jeff spotting the 53. Nodding, you turned around slightly to show him the “Skinner” across the back. If Jeff’s grin could get any larger, it would have split his face. Seeing you there at his game, in his jersey, after all these years brought back all the feelings of being young with you; leaning on you; putting his whole trust in you. The Sabres may be his current teammates, but you would always be his first teammate; his first crush; his first love.

           The game was a tough one, the Sabres barely pulling out a win. You were so relieved when the final buzzard sounded. Jeff had asked you to meet him outside the locker room earlier that day, so you made your way there. Standing off to the side, you watched some of the guys spill out to their loved ones, smiling at how familiar it all felt. You remembered in high school when you used to wait for Jeff after his games with his parents.

           A couple minutes later you spotted the slightly curly hair of the man you had grown up with. He grinned as he spotted you, and lifted you into a big bear hug once he got to you. “Congrats J! Good game,” you said into his neck before he set you down.

           “I’m so glad you came,” he said softly, and you blushed under his gaze. “I’m glad you moved here,” he whispered.

           “Me too,” you said under your breath. Jeff was about to say something when your moment was interrupted.

           “You must be the old figure skating partner Jeff won’t shut up about,” the Sabres’ captain Jack Eichel patted Jeff’s shoulder and extended his hand to you.

           “That would be me. Hope it was positive,” you tried to hide your nerves with a joke. Jeff rolled his eyes.

           “Trust me?” he held out his pinky to you like he would when you were younger.

           “Always,” you responded automatically as Jack looked on amused.

~ ~ ~

           After that evening, you went to all of Jeff’s home games that you could. The two of you were also together all the time, practically spending every free moment with each other. Two months later you were curled up into Jeff as you watched a movie at his apartment. You weren’t together, but it was obvious to everyone around you that the feelings were there. Since you were used to being physically close to him, many thought you were already together. The both of you would awkwardly laugh those comments off.

           As the movie credits rolled, you sat up and looked at the time, realizing you should probably get home as it was almost midnight. You started to unwrap yourself from the blanket on top of you when Jeff spoke up. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

           “It’s late J,” you laughed lowly.

           “Exactly. Stay,” he smiled softly, but had a serious look in his eyes. “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled, slightly confused by what he said. Jeff shook his head and sat up.

           “That’s not entirely what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as you took his other hand in yours.

           “Then how did you mean it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his. Jeff sucked in his lips, looking at you thoughtfully.

           “I’ve always felt bad for choosing hockey over you; over being your partner. I felt terrible when you got hurt and I wasn’t around to stop it from happening. When we lost touch, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of reaching out to you, but didn’t cause I was worried it was too late. And now you’re here, and back in my life and I don’t want to make those same mistakes all over again,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

           “I hope you know I don’t blame you for any of that Jeff. You had to do what was best for you, and I’m so proud of you. Life just dealt us some…”

           “Toe picks?” he interjected causing you to laugh.

           “Yeah, some toe picks,” you said softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to lose you again either,” you whispered, and Jeff sent you a smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly, you both leaned in closer to each other, your lips finally meeting. It was everything you ever thought kissing Jeff would be like, and so much more. As you separated, you both had the largest smiles on your faces. Slowly, Jeff stood up and pulled you along with him.

           “Do you trust me?” he asked, sweeping a piece of hair behind your ear. This time you knew Jeff wasn’t teasing when he said those words, he wasn’t just asking because you were worried about him dropping you, but asking because your relationship was about to dive into uncharted territory, and he knew that it would change everything. Though, then maybe it wouldn’t. Being “together” was simple because you had skated together for so long.

           Taking his hand, you nodded. “Always,” you said, meaning it with every fiber of your being. Jeff smiled that brilliant, infectious smile at you, and led you to down the hall to his room. That night you both fell asleep tangle up with each other, and completely in love with this figure skating boy turned hockey player that you had known for what felt like eternity.