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#ALSO SOME PEOPLE CONSIDER IT OBNOXIOUS OR SAY ITS A TRIGGER
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IF I NEED TO PROVE TO ANYONE TYPING IN CAPS IS MY PREFERENCE FOR SOME REASON I HAVE SEVERAL REASONS.
IT REFLECTS MY NONHUMAN IDENTITY. ROBOTIC-ESQUE, ALIEN-ESQUE, GENERALLY STRANGE & UNUSUAL, SOMETHING NOT HUMAN
ITS A TEXTUAL WAY TO RECREATE MY FLAT AFFECT. I DO NOT LIKE IT WHEN MY TEXTS ARE READ WITH TONE SO ELIMINATING CAPITALIZATION & THE LACK THEREOF REMOVES AN ELEMENT OF HAVING TO DEAL WITH INTERPRETATIONS OF TONE.
IT REFLECTS MY OUTWARD IDENTITY. I LIKE TO DRESS COLORFUL ON BLACK, "SCENECORE" TYPE OUTFITS, SCENECORE CULTURE INVOLVES A LOT OF MANGLING OF TEXT & THIS IS A WAY TO DO THAT WITHOUT MAKING IT TOTALLY UNREADABLE. 1 W0N7 M4K3 4NY0N3 R34D 7H15 5H17 & IT GOES AGAINST MY PUSH FOR ACCESSIBILITY
SPEAKING OF ACCESSIBILITY CAPITAL LETTERS ARE EASIER FOR ME TO READ. THEY ARE BIGGER. YEAH. IM 1,021 YEARS OLD THESE EYES DON'T WORK LIKE THEY USED TO
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ajgrey9647 · 2 months
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Character Ask Game:
Quad Life Red & Drakkon:
If they had to get a tattoo what would it be? Are they willing to ask for things? What is a childhood meal they cherish? What type of environment do they like best? What element best represents them? What celestial body would interest them most? Where is their comfort place? Do they believe in myths and fairy tales? Is there a secret thing they long to hear? Are there particular sounds they're fond of?
Love these question games!
If they had to get a tattoo, what would it be?
Drakkon - likes to think he’d get something badass or sassy, like a set of lips on his ass cheek or a ‘your name here’ over his crack. That’s what he will tell you… but he’s just being a dick. If pressed, he’d have to say something meaningful that incorporated his darling…something symbolic. Something entwined.
And sure, throw the other two little shits in there as well.
Red – Something symbolic…like a fox and a hound to pay homage to his split mind… Or something to do with his new found family.
Are they willing to ask for things?
Drakkon – Ask? Hell, he’ll tell you how its going to be. Unless it involves any admission of vulnerability…then he has to work up the nerve.
Red – Yes, he will ask… he’s learned to use his voice and speak up for himself. Much more refreshing than being ordered around. It took some getting used to, as did embracing his full humanity, which he found odd at first with how he always he considered himself to be a canine.
What is a childhood meal they cherish?
Drakkon – That would be non-existent in his case. A list of meals he despises would be more accurate. He can’t stand the things he was forced to consume as an abused, neglected child: baloney and hotdogs (mystery meat and it sure as hell was never Eckridge or Oscar Meyer in the Oliver household; that name brand shit was for rich folk. It was all generic, baby…), ramen noodles, dry cereal, pop tarts, rip off hamburger helper, milk on the cusp of curdling…Prepackaged snack shit…
Red – Coinless Jason used to cherish his mother’s spaghetti and meatballs. It begged her to make it all the time. But when Prime Jason managed to pull off making the recipe (with Drakkon’s help…a LOT of it honestly), it was sadly much too rich for him. Same with the chocolate cake….
What type of environment do they like best?
Drakkon – Not a fan of people. He’s easily irritated by stupidity and loud obnoxiousness. Possibly a bar where everyone minds their own business, plays pool, and swigs booze while watching the big tv screen in the corner. Where you’re left the fuck alone, but you’re not actually alone. Or an expensive, exclusive restaurant where he’s sure to find fare that is acceptable to his palate.
Red – Also not a fan of being around other people but for different reasons. They can overstimulate him, triggering his old canine ways, and he becomes fearful that he will attack them unprovoked. He’s reminded of the old cage fights Drakkon used to fight him in, and he can react impulsively. He also feels stupid and ‘out of time’ compared to people in the Prime universe.
He loves being at home where he feels safe. Inside and outside. Red loves nature, plants, and animals, being in the sunshine after decades of near darkness, feeling the breeze in his hair, and smelling fresh earth.
What element best represents them?
Drakkon – This one was tough. It would be easy to assume fire considering his history. But he’s done the work and has changed himself mostly for the better so that air would be considered his element. While nasty, controlling, and sometimes cold, he IS intelligent, ambitious, strong-willed, and not easily manipulated…unless Red and/or Jason are prancing around stark naked or making out with each other. At that point, he’d punch himself in the nuts just to partake of their bodies.
Red – Once upon a time, when he was still just Coinless Jason, Red would been considered a fire element. Warm, passionate, bullheaded, outgoing, a natural leader, someone with the right skillset that would interest a tyrant like Lord Drakkon in exploiting.
These days, Red is more like the rain, which is rather fitting considering how he was created; in a hellish furnace with a fire much different from Jason’s. This formerly canine alter is creative, empathetic, reserved, curious, and devoted to his partners.
What celestial body would interest them most?
Drakkon – the DF2 Galaxy: a rule-breaking celestial body that might not contain any dark matter, which is believed to be a requirement for galaxy formation. A rebel…just like him.
Red – the Necklace Nebula and for good reason: It was created when two stars collided together with one expanding until it took over the second star. Yet they still orbit one another.
Where is their comfort place?
Drakkon – in bed with Jason and/or Red, all three of them slathered in oil, drunk as skunks, and naked wrestling…
Red – Home, 100 percent. He does enjoy the occasional trip out into the community, like going to the park, the aquarium, the plant nursery, library, and museum…provided they aren’t crowded. He is happiest when outside the cabin working in his flower gardens or building a birdhouse while listening to the radio playing from the kitchen window.
Do they believe in myths and fairy tales?
Drakkon – A secret he won’t utter aloud, but yes he does. They are how he survived his abusive childhood. But he thinks admitting that will make him look like a ‘pussy’.
Red – He goes back and forth, the ‘Jason’ side of his brain at odds with ‘Red’s’. He suffered horrendously and managed to come out the other side to eventually live the life he now has. To him, that’s the epitome of magic.
Is there a secret thing they long to hear?
Drakkon – He has just to tell anyone this because it’s just too vulnerable and raw…even Red doesn’t know, but he wants to hear his birth mother tell him that she loved him, missed him, regretted giving him away, why she gave him up, and that he wasn’t a mistake or accident. He’s too afraid that isn’t what she’d say.
Red – He’s too timid to admit it because there’s just no way…but he longs to hear his (Jason’s) mother’s voice in person, to talk to her again. Hear her ‘I love you, honey’ one more time. Sure he can hear it over Jason’s phone or a recording but its just not the same.
Are there particular sounds they’re fond of?
Drakkon – VERY fond of the sound of wet, smacking flesh, heavy panting, and loud erotic moaning. Of course… He used to enjoy screams of agony and pleas for mercy but that was a long time ago. He does like classical music and opera, something that he and Skull actually have in common to their surprise. A softly ticking clock is very soothing.
Red – loves the sound of the rain on the window glass, the crackle of the fire in the hearth…nature sounds, bird song…Thunderstorms make him feel all sleepy and cuddly, which is just fine with the others. Windchimes. Listening to music on his little radio, what some might consider ‘old-fashioned’ type music.
He also likes the sounds of ASMR on ‘clean-tok’, a section of Tik-Tok where one essentially watches another clean their home and unpackage their new supplies. It drives Drakkon crazy, especially the nail tapping but he puts up with it for Red’s sake. And even buys some of the ridiculous gadgets that Red will never end up using anyway…but he does.
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daydrinking75 · 2 months
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ive always had a weird relationship with duality. recently the way i portray myself is with a collection of independent entities who are both themselves and myself all at once. sometimes its two, sometimes three, five, a whole stadium when my brain gets loud. but its never one. i feel like i always have someone next to me an audience, and im at the same time the performer and the people in the seats and im watching myself watch me. it's borderline schitzo sometimes i feel like im a hair trigger away from ego death. and the thing is, im a shit performer, but i love the show and just hope that my skill catches up to my enthusiasm. so im trapped, inside myself. this is the duality; there will always be an abyss that looks back at me, and despite desperately trying to befriend it, it doesn't say anything. like some shitty boyfriend. or girlfriend, considering thats what i do to other people. i tend to find that generally women are more sympathetic while men arent, this is to say, as a woman i am sympathetic, if i was a guy, i wouldnt be. and id probably be a worse, or at the very least more obnoxious, person, but i can only speculate. its things like this that i subconsciously rummage around and look for in that void; the term being only symbolic for existence itself. other people, unsurprisingly, considering my history of short lived relationships, or maybe even art, something i love dearly, is also a part of that abyss that scares the shit out of me. but it makes something out of it, and thats something at least, and in line with what i wrote above, its making something thats significant to me out of that void, like the loop is interrupted by something and im standing there
"oh. would you look at that, you made this? i like it."
and it gives me something else to look at for once. do you think this is what a samsara is, forced to watch your own existence? does that make art the path enlightenment and nervana? it does, for me at least, and even then im making a lot of assumptions, but this is the best way i can describe what i feel.
it does mean "wandering"
according to the wikipedia blurb, that is
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deliriousgeek · 3 years
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Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader
Summary: A quiet evening meant for celebration is thrown into chaos. Y/n wills herself to play into the daunting role that comes with being Thomas Shelby’s wife, because it might be the only thing keeping her alive. 
Masterlist
Tommy lowkey feels very oc so idk how to feel about that. im not good at writing suspense...its also very long. ha :,)
Warning: blood, guns, knives, fights, usual peaky blinder violence
If anyone knew Y/n Shelby, then they would know that she can’t stand seeing dead bodies. Although in her case, having that reaction would seem ironic, considering her husband was Thomas Shelby. 
It was around 9pm when Y/n slipped her night robe off and lay back on her bed. Her night was just winding down and she was waiting for Thomas to get back. He said he would try to be home around midnight, and to not wait up. He and his brothers would be at the Garrison, celebrating Arthur’s return from prison and discussing what was to be done with the Jews and Italians next. 
Y/n knew it would be a couple hours for Tommy to be home, so she settled onto their bed and grabbed a book off her night stand. 
The room was bathed in a warm, orange and yellow light— the type of light candles can give. When she was home alone, Y/n liked to use candle light. It reminded her of a time before the war and before this gang business, when all she and Tommy had to worry about was getting enough candles to light up the dinner table. 
Half an hour had passed and Y/n had gotten through a decent number of pages in her book. She felt her eyes drooping and decided it was time to call it a night. She stretched and cracked her neck before turning to place her book on the nightstand. Just as she was about to place the book down, she heard a creak downstairs. 
She froze.
Tommy wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight and none of the Shelby family would come over this late without a call, that was their safety protocol. 
She listened for more creaking. 
After Tommy had bought their house he had insisted on replacing the creaky floor boards, but decided to keep a few. In certain spots, that could be easily avoided if one knew where to walk, the floor would still creak. It was a safety thing that Tommy and Y/n agreed would be good to have. If the floorboards downstairs still creaked after the first step, it wasn’t one of them. 
Creak...creak...creak...
That wasn’t Tommy. 
Y/n took in a deep breath as she put herself back into a sitting position on the bed. An intruder was in her house. At the moment, the Peaky Blinders had a lot of enemies. It could be anyone. Mostly, someone with a gun. 
She listened as the person made their way upstairs. She could hear them passing Tommy’s office, and the guest bedroom. This person knew where their room was, and she could only deduce from their movement’s that they were coming for her. 
Y/n was scared. She knew how to defend herself, but didn’t like doing it if she didn’t have to. Rolling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the inevitable. She’d have to fight tonight. 
To be clear, Y/n Shelby wasn’t unable to fight. She was a pro at throwing knives, which she preferred to guns; much to Tommy’s dismay. She knew how to shoot a gun and could decently fare in hand to hand combat, but she was still scared. Her heart beat in her chest quickly and anxiety bubbled to the surface. A normal reaction to knowing someone broke into your house to hurt you, or worse. Y/n assumed it was the latter. However, instead of letting her fear show, she turned on her fake calmness. A trick she forced herself to learn as Thomas Shelby’s wife. The alarm that was spread across her face vanished, instead being replaced with an eerily calm facade.
There was no point in locking the door. The person knew how to get past those if he made it into their living room. She heard their steps stop at the front of her door, she raised her book to her face, pretending like she was reading.
Act calm. She told herself.
Then, the door burst open.
Back at the pub, the Shelby brothers  were sitting around the table in the snug. Sharing laughs and taking on their third round of Whiskey.
“Alright boys,” Tommy began, placing his glass down and looking around the table. “We’ve had our fun, business begins now.” His content expression turned serious. 
His other brothers, and cousin Michael, cleared their throats and straightened up. 
“As you know, taking Arthur out of prison is a direct threat to the Sabini’s. It shows that even in London we have enough influence to get our own men out, if needed.”
The brothers nodded, and shared looks.
Tommy continued, “Getting Arthur out was our first move. Now it’s the Italian’s and the Jew’s turn but we don’t know when their next strike will be. So, from this moment on we have to be aware, alert, and ready for every—”
The door flew open.
Sir!” Out of breath, Isaiah stood with one hand on the door knob, looking at Tommy. 
“Oi!” Arthur shouted. “You know better than to interrupt!” 
Tommy nodded his head at Arthur, then turned to Isaiah. “What is it, lad.”
“Better be important,” John added. 
“Sir, the Italians are here. My dad spotted them making their way down the lane. They got a group with guns and a car. We best hurry.” Isaiah said in a rushed voice.
With that all the Shelby men stood and placed their caps on, rushing out of the snug. 
Upon noticing the urgency in which the brothers exited, the rest of the Peaky Blinders in the pub were at full alert, waiting for Tom’s next words. The crowd silenced as the brothers stood at the snug doors, facing the onlookers. 
“If you aren’t a Peaky Blinder,” Tom eyed the crowd, “leave.” 
Noise filled the bar again as chairs shuffled, cups were placed on tables, and the front doors opened and closed.
Tom didn’t speak again until there were only Peaky Blinders left. He pulled out his revolver and checked it, making sure there were bullets, before looking up again. 
“Battle formation, men. The Italians are here.” 
Then in a flurry of peaky hats and over coats, the rest of the men got into their positions. Some ran up the stairs to get the extra cases of shotguns and revolvers. Others pulled out their own handguns and checked them as well. The Shelby boys looked at each other, a silent way of saying ‘good luck’. 
Once Tommy deemed every one armed, he nodded to Arthur, who shouted to move out. 
The Shelbies were at the front, while everyone fell behind them in triangle formation. As they marched outside, they could see the group of Italians rounding the corner. 
It was rather intimidating. An outline of men and guns on shoulders, a rather sizable group at that, illuminated by the truck headlights that followed behind. It was a sight to see.
Darby Sabini stood at the front, a shotgun slung over his shoulder.
As the groups marched towards each other and came to a stop, a man behind Thomas called out to the front. “At your command Sergeant Major.”
A hushed tone of agreement spread throughout the group.
Darby stepped forward. “Thought you could come on our turf and get away with it, aye?” 
Tommy stepped forward as well, hands in his pockets. “It was meant as a friendly gesture, but I don’t think you have enough friends to know what that means.”
A small smirk made its way onto Tommy’s face as he stared Darby down. 
Darby narrowed his eyes, irritated at that remark. “I’ll show you what friendly means. Now!”
A hail of gunfire began and the sound of shots being fired filled the lane. It was chaos. Bullets flew and body’s fell. Punches were thrown and blood was spread. More men jumped out of the covered truck and ran to beat down the men on the other side. 
Tommy ducked and punched, kicked and shot. In the middle of punching a man in the gut he yelled, “Leave Darby for me!”
His men did just that. 
Thomas fought his way to the center of the fight, where Darby had just knocked out a Peaky Blinder. Tommy aimed his gun and walked forward, aiming at Darby. The fighting on both sides ceased.
“I didn’t bring a battalion to your town.” Tommy spoke clearly, in a raised voice. 
Darby aimed his gun as well. The two circled each other as men on both sides stopped to observe the interaction. They watched Tommy and Darby tread carefully, like two tentative predators waiting for their opposer to falter.
“You still showed up. That was enough.”
The two men were breathing heavily, a result from the brawls they just finished.
“What’s your purpose for being here, Sabini?” Thomas stopped pacing, his gun still firmly held up. 
Darby stopped as well. An obnoxious laugh left his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Tommy didn’t move. He held a blank face, but his eyes still watched Darby with intensity. 
Not waiting for a response Darby continued, “I’m reminding you that I can take away everything you have in an instant. I already put your brother in jail, which it seems wasn’t a good enough warning for you, since you stupidly had him released so quickly.”
Darby took a couple steps toward Thomas, gun raised. 
“Killing me won’t do anything. I got people in place to still ruin you.” Thomas stated, his tone flat. 
Darby lowered his gun, a sickly calm smile spread across his face. It was an unsettling sight that made Tommy begin to think something was off.
“Oh Tommy boy, I’m just the distraction,” Darby’s eyes noticeably darkened, “How’s your wife these days?”
Tommy’s eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger.
Darby fell to the ground dead, a bullet was lodged in the center of his forehead. 
Then like a wave, the fighting began again.
As soon as the gunshot rang, Tommy saw red. He shot, punched, kicked or swung at anyone in his way as he fought to get out of the crowd. He didn’t bother shouting an explanation to his brothers as he ran to his car. 
Tommy shoved his keys into the ignition and started the car. Tommy slammed his foot on the gas as soon as the engine roared to life. The car’s lights illuminated the carnage left from the battle. The Peaky Blinders were the last ones standing, as Tommy expected, but paid no mind to. His thoughts too consumed with conjuring the hundreds of horrible possibilities he might see upon arriving home, all ending with a bloodied image of Y/n.
John and Arthur ran towards the car, causing Thomas to slam on the breaks. 
“Where are you going?” John asked urgently. 
“They’re going for Y/n.” Thomas hastily replied.
John and Arthur jumped on the side of the car just in time before Tommy could speed up again. 
Michael and Finn watched as the older Shelby boys passed them. 
“Great. So we’re left to clean up the mess.”
At the house, Y/n held her book to her face as the door burst open. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a man pointing a gun at her. His clothes were clean and he looked very young. Her eyes flitted from the gun to his shoes, then to his eyes, then back to the gun. 
“On your feet.” He demanded. 
“What?” Y/n feigned innocence, despite her struggle to keep calm.
The man, gun still held towards her, trudged over and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it onto the floor. 
“I said on your feet!” He yelled in her face, backing away so he was a few feet from the bed.
She stared into his eyes, an impassive look on her face. Y/n looked back down at the gun. 
With a purse of her lips and a shrug she stated, “I’d rather not.”
The man’s soldier esc demeanor nearly slipped at her blatant defiance of his orders. “It’s not an option lady! Get up.”
She chuckled. “Y’see, lad. I’ve been on my feet all day. Have you ever worn heels for over six hours? Rather painful you know.”
Her cocky attitude betrayed her quickly beating heart that was full of adrenaline.
In an effort to scare her, he menacingly stepped forward. “I ain’t afraid to hurt you lady, but the boss wants you alive. If you keep disobeying me, I'm allowed to use force.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh really, and who is your boss? I must thank him for not wanting me dead.” 
She knew she was playing with her life, but if this boy was as inexperienced as he looked, she would get the information she needed to warn Tommy. Granted, if she got out of this situation. 
“Sabini.” The man bluntly answered. 
Y/n swallowed. This wasn’t good. If Sabini’s men were here and not in London, she needed to warn Thomas immediately. Her heart pumped faster than she thought possible and every nerve in her body was on the verge of trembling from fear.
“I see.” Y/n turned her head to the foot of the bed. “Well, like I said, I’d rather not get up. Matter of fact, I’d rather keep reading. So be a dear and hand me my book, would ya?” She was stalling.
“C’mon lady, stop being stubborn. You don't even got a weapon to be making these demands.” The man sneered.
Y/n slowly adjusted herself so that she scooted away from the pillows that propped her up. She straightened her legs on the bed, her left crossed over her right. Then she leaned back on her arms, purposely pushing up her chest to show off her unbinded chest. Hopefully, he’d be dumb enough to look at her distraction, and he was. 
“Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I can tell that you're new to this whole— kidnapping thing. If you want to get better at it then you should learn this.” She paused before looking back at the man, “Always do research on your target.”
The young man’s brows furrowed, obviously confused. 
“If you did your research, like a good little gangster,” She began as she slid her left leg up off her right, causing her silk nightgown to slowly expose her leg. The man’s eyes roamed her leg once she stopped moving, leaving her left leg in a bent position. She reached for the hem of the dress and raised it further up her left leg, stopping until it got to her mid thigh, “Then you would know, that I’m always armed.”
In a swift and well practiced motion, Y/n grabbed the sharp, throwing knife from her thigh holster, and threw. The knife landed in the man’s chest, in his heart. Looking down at the knife, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling onto his back. Blood quickly formed a growing splotch of red on his shirt. Y/n quickly stood from the bed to remove the gun from the man’s hand, she then crouched over him. 
She placed her hand on the knife handle, “It was a shame you didn’t do your research.” Then she pushed the knife forward, until she felt through the blade that it had really punctured his heart.
Y/n stood over the man’s body, gun in her hand, and watched the blood puddle grow. She backed away until her knees hit the bed and gave way. Letting out a shaky breath, she sat with the gun in her lap. In an attempt to avoid looking at the body laid in front of her, Y/n stared at the ceiling. 
The adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of the situation dawned on her. She could have died, quite easily too. If her attacker had not been so inexperienced and if she wasn’t wanted brought back alive, she could have died. Then, she thought of her husband.
Tommy. 
Had the man lying dead on her carpet opened the door and shot, Tommy would have had to come home to her dead body instead. The thought of Tommy finding her body, cold and bloody, scared her more than death. She couldn’t imagine the pain of him being alone. He would blame himself for her death. He would say he couldn’t protect her, and he would loathe himself for the rest of his life. Tears began to prick her eyes and her throat tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away and for her erratic heart beat to calm down. 
She killed a man.
That’s the only thought she could process. Her emotions muddled her thinking. Never before had she used her knives to kill. She used guns, from far away. She used punches to knock people out. She used her knives to injure, but never before had she needed them to kill. She was slightly glad for the memory of Tommy coming back home from an errand, returning with the thin knife holster that he insisted she wear when he wasn’t home. She was also glad that she made it a rule for herself to never take it off unless Tommy was home with her. 
Then, the silence of the house was broken again. She flinched. This time, the sound came from the front door slamming open and muffled shouts that she could only register as her name. 
“Y/n! Y/n where are you?” The voice shouted.
She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, not in her boggled state of mind, but she knew it was safe. So she answered. 
“In the bedroom.” 
Her eyes were still shut and her head faced the ceiling when Tommy rushed in.
“Y/n.” His voice was slightly breathless as he took in the sight before him. 
The room was covered in warm, candle light, giving a complete opposite tone to the tense atmosphere. His wife sat on the bed with a gun in her lap. A man, with his wife’s knife in his chest, laid dead on the ground and a puddle of blood surrounded his wound. 
Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She could see the fear and worry that filled his eyes, his face in slight shock.
Thomas was relieved to see his wife unharmed, but he could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Her slumped shoulders were signs of exhaustion. The way her chest moved up and down with heavy breathes told him she was on the verge of holding herself together. 
Arthur and John came bounding up the stairs next, and found their places on either side of Thomas. 
Y/n’s voice came out void of emotion, but her teary eyes said it all. “One of Sabini’s men.” She stated before turning her eyes to the ceiling once more, trying to blink away tears. “Please get him out of my sight.” The growing puddle of blood made her want to throw up. 
“You heard her,” Thomas said in a low tone, staring at his wife with concerned eyes. “Get rid of ‘em.” His voice was just above a whisper.
Arthur and John stepped forward, grabbing the man by his arms and lugged him out of the room. Only once the man had been removed did Thomas walk towards his wife. Only when he wrapped his arms around her did she let herself cry. She let herself sob and express how truly scared she was when the man burst into her room, and pointed a gun to her head. 
Thomas held her close and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear that she was okay, and that she did what she needed to do. Holding her close, he told her he loved her, and promised to never let anything like that happen to her again. 
Masterlist
well I tried
Edit: Bro this blew up in less than a day with 41 notes. Thank you♡
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got-svt · 4 years
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for tonight 
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order up !  large caramel latte at 75 % sweetness, an oatmeal raisin cookie, and a slice of cheesecake with doyoung for anon <3 order notes : doyoung x reader, angst, but the end is kinda fluffy, exes to lovers, some mentions of other nct members look, something’s written on your cup… hi anon! for oatmeal raisin cookies the prompt is either enemies or exes so i hope you don’t mind that i chose exes haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3 - ren
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summary: it’s taeyong’s wedding and you find yourself having no choice but to share a bed with your ex-boyfriend, doyoung. word count: 2.75k ( so sorry, i might have to change the word count on large orders asdfghkl literally all my oneshots are over 2k why did i think i could stick to under 2k for ca )
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You stared ahead, eyes unblinking at the sight. Sure, the sight of a single bed wasn’t remotely daunting to most of the human population, but not to you. Not when you had to share it with your ex-boyfriend, Doyoung. He wore the same look of shock you did, mouth parted, eyebrows raised, and a cold drop of sweat dripping down his forehead. Beside you, you could see his fists clenching and unclenching — like he was trying to keep himself calm, but to very little success. Unfortunately for him, you were also feeling very on edge as you bit the inside of your cheek — waves of nervousness building up from the very pit of your stomach, soon enough they would eventually have to come crashing down. 
You shouldn’t have come in the first place. If it weren’t for the incessant pestering of your friends, you wouldn’t have come at all. But it was Taeyong’s wedding, it was too big of a deal to ditch just because you didn’t feel like running into an ex. 
“Seriously, Yn?”  Taeyong pouted after hearing your initial hesitation on attending, “You’re skipping my wedding, the biggest day of my life, because you’re afraid you’ll see Doyoung? May I remind you that you were my friend before he became your boyfriend.”
You huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I know that, but what if things are awkward between us and we ruin your day because of it?”
“Hasn’t it been a couple of months already? I’m sure both of you moved on.” Taeyong rolled his eyes, “I’m not saying both of you have to spend the day together, I just want you to be there.”
You eventually agreed, though it took convincing from at least three other people besides Taeyong to get you to finally go. Johnny promised that he would sit beside you during the ceremony, you subtly asking to sit as far away from Doyoung as you possibly can — which meant tugging on his sleeve the second you caught sight of him. Taeyong was kind enough to move seating arrangements around, placing you in between Jaehyun and Mark and having you four tables away from Doyoung. You spent most of the reception dancing with Yuta and Haechan, laughing loudly whenever you stepped on their feet or when they spun you around a little too quickly. For most of the day, Doyoung had been in the back of your mind, enjoying the company you kept and catching up with your shared friends. But the day eventually had to end, nightfall slowly creeping up on you before shaking you back into the reality you had to force yourself to face.
“Okay, thank you.” Doyoung politely spoke before placing the telephone back on its receiver. His suit’s jacket was now off, neatly folded across the back of a wooden desk chair. The top two buttons of his crisp white button-down were undone.  
You had to stop yourself from staring too long to be considered appropriate, shaking your head slightly. “Well, what did they say?”
Doyoung winced at the sharpness in your tone. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, or cold for that matter, the effects of the long day had been wearing down on you and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm shower and fall into a dreamless sleep surrounded by the fluffiest pillows this luxurious hotel had to offer.
“Hotel’s all booked up because of the wedding. We can’t get another room.” He sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress dipping ever so slightly.
You pinched the the bridge of your nose, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could — as if that would somehow help you will into reality that this was not happening. The two of you booked this hotel room weeks before you had broken up, the minute you had finally gotten wind of the where the wedding was going to be held. In the sudden whirlwind that was your breakup, neither of you had remembered to cancel and book another room. With the the nearest hotel somehow fifty miles away, you slowly braced yourself to deal with the unfortunate situation of having to share the room with your ex-boyfriend.
You opened your eyes to see Doyoung hunched over, eyes trained on his phone, very clearly frustrated. His fingers moved across his screen quickly, face slightly lit up from its harsh glare. You tilted your head to the side, watching as he eventually shut his phone off and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I asked our friends if I could sleep in any of their rooms. All of them answered no. All full apparently, so no space for me.”
You scoffed, there was no way none of them couldn’t possibly spare a bit of space for Doyoung. He nodded in agreement at your annoyance. Both of you knew all of your friends rooted for the two of you, they were the reason you had even gotten together in the first place. You knew Taeyong ever since you learned how to walk, and you saw no harm in going on a blind date with a friend he had claimed would be absolutely perfect for you. Their denial only triggered memories of their exaggerated wails of heartbreak when they found out about your breakup. 
“It’s fine, maybe I can sleep on the tub or something. You can take the bed.” Doyoung offered, motioning a hand towards the bed before heading to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes. Always the sweetheart, you thought. He was gone for all of five seconds when you heard his voice from the bathroom, soft yet clearly frustrated, “There’s no tub.”
Doyoung made his way over to you, his hands behind his back. There was a certain nervous energy that surrounded his figure, you wonder what was it about you that made him feel this way. Granted, this had been the first time you were going to be alone with him in months, you don’t even recall seeing him in person before the wedding. He refused to meet your eyes, gaze firmly on the carpeted floor beneath him, “I’ll take the floor instead.”
You knew there was no way you were letting him sleep on the floor, you were already about to protest his suggestion of sleeping on the tub until he made his way to the bathroom before he could even respond. Sure, you were broken up, but that didn’t mean you were that cold of a person to deny him access to a bed. “No.”
“What?” Doyoung looked up at you in surprise, eyes growing wide.
“Listen,” You sighed, not wanting to make this a bigger deal than it already was, “it’s been a long day, we’re both tired, both of us can take the bed. It’s just one night, what’s the worst that could happen? We can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist in the morning.”
Doyoung blinked back at you, processing your words before nodding slowly. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anyways, not when the last time he saw you was in a screaming match that lasted hours and had you storming out of his apartment. “Fine, I assume you’ll take the right side of the bed? You can have the extra pillow too.”
You stepped back, trying your best to not seem too shocked that he still remembered your sleeping preferences. “Yeah, thanks.”
Doyoung nodded in acknowledgement, before both of you tried to get as much of your night routines done without bothering the other. The silence in the hotel room was palpable, breaking every now and then by the sounds of water running, doors opening and closing, bare feet prodding on carpeted floors, shuffling about as you narrowly avoided looking at or bumping into each other.
This is only for tonight, you and Doyoung thought to yourselves.
“Good night, I guess.” You mumbled, as both of you turned off the lamps on your respective sides of the bed.
“Night.”
The two of you were submerged in darkness, the only whisper of light coming from the moon that peeked through the curtains. You and Doyoung retreated to opposite edges of the bed, leaving an obnoxious amount of space between the two of you as you slept on your sides. You shut your eyes, hoping that sleep would come to you as soon as possible. 
It didn’t, but only because your thought kept drifting back to the man that lied beside you. It was almost impossible to keep your mind at bay, not when he was right there, just at arm’s reach — so close yet so far. You couldn’t help but look for the sound of his breathing, remembering how it used to comfort you on nights you had trouble sleeping, patterning your own breaths after his. Something in you wanted to turn around and face him, to lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer in the way he did before.
The truth was, you didn’t know the exact reason for your breakup. All you remembered was crying, screaming, eventually storming out. It was all the little moments that both of you held in, eventually bursting out when it was all too much to hold. All those late nights he came home from work late, the small seconds of jealousy that welled up between the two of you, all the cancelled plans, missed dates, moments of misunderstandings that never got brought up or resolved. 
You groaned as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Doyoung up if he was already asleep. Maybe it was the effect of a long and tiring day, maybe it was because you had just been at a wedding and love was in the air, maybe avoiding him the entire day wasn’t the right move, not when it only made you miss him more. You couldn’t help but want to reach out for him and little did you know he felt the exact same way.
Doyoung felt cold, a chill creeping up his spine, goosebumps littering the little areas of skin he had exposed. He could hear your sighs, the groans that escaped your lips, and Doyoung knew you were having trouble sleeping. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, the warmth of your body pressed against his. When he spent years falling asleep with you close to him most nights, it was hard to forget all of that in a matter of months. 
He remembered how his heart ached when he saw you lead yourself and Johnny away from him, when he saw you seated tables away with him, talking it up with Mark and Jaehyun. But it shattered when he saw you dancing with Yuta and Haechan, smile wider than he had ever seen before, looking like you were having the time of your life without him. 
Doyoung didn’t know how you were only keeping it all in, pretending like it didn’t bother you. 
You turned to lay on your back, eyes wide and wake, looking up at the ceiling. There was nothing to look at, everything was painted in a pale shade of gray. There’s shuffling beside you as Doyoung turned to lay on his back as well, hands neatly folded on his stomach.
“Can’t sleep, Yn?” He asked, eyes also fixated on the ceiling. 
You shook your head but quickly realized he probably couldn’t see you, “No. I suppose you can’t either.”
“Any reason why?”
“Thinking…” You trailed off, afraid of what you’d say if he dared to ask more.
“About?”
You sighed, unsure if you should actually answer. There was never really any closure to your breakup, you could only remember leaving. “Us, like what exactly happened?”
There was a certain amount of vulnerability in your voice, it was quiet and soft, yet it still pierced through the air and rang in his ears. He couldn’t believe you, how could you ask him that? 
“Yn, you left me.” Doyoung answered back, he tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked at the final word, giving his true emotions away.
You deserved that, the little clench in your chest at the sadness in his voice. “But you didn’t go after me. You just let me leave. You let me go so easily.”
“Did you want me to go after you? Would you have taken me back if I did?” Doyoung turned on his side once again, now facing you, “I thought you were done with me.”
You kept your eyes on the ceiling, trying your best to ignore Doyoung’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t look at him, not when the guilt of your actions finally caught up with you. It was a selfish decision really, to leave so suddenly, not giving each other a chance to possibly work it out. You still don’t know why you had done it, or at least made no effort to contact him after, leaving both of you to just assume that things were over. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.” You bring your hands up to your temple, trying to rub away the headache that was beginning to form. Should you say anything else? Did you even want to? Your chest tightened, feeling tears form in the corners of your eyes. You had spent the entire day keeping it in, spent the months after your breakup pretending that this was for the best, that this was what you wanted. The walls you built around yourself finally came crumbling down, “I just…I missed you. I can’t even remember why we broke up in the first place, why I left…”
You expected him to turn away, to tell you it was too little and far too late. Instead he reached out to you, the suddenness of his action had you yelping in surprise. He pulled you to his chest, closing the distance you had put between yourselves. Doyoung whispered, his breath ever so slightly tickling your ear, “I’m sorry for letting you leave.”
“No,” You shook your head against his chest, tears staining the white cotton shirt he chose to wear to bed, “I’m sorry for leaving in the first place.”
Doyoung didn’t say anything else, letting you cry into his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You calmed down after a few minutes, but you still gripped his shirt tightly, like you were afraid that you were going to lose him again if you didn’t. 
It was quiet, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence that descended between the two of you earlier in the night. This silence was more peaceful, content. You could hear the sound of his heart beating, relaxing and consistent — lulling you to sleep. Doyoung felt your breath against his neck, warm and inviting, reminding him that you were once again in his arms. The heaviness in his chest that plagued him the past few weeks was suddenly gone, replaced with a sense of peacefulness. 
“You know, something in me says that you didn’t cancel this hotel room on purpose.” Doyoung teased, knowing it would get some sort of reaction from you.
And it did. You groaned as you hit his chest, in the way you always did whenever he teased you when you were still together, your hand still lingering on his chest even after you hit him. Unfortunately, you exerted a little more force than you originally intended. 
“Ouch!” He exclaimed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually hurt when you saw the ghost of a smile making its way to his lips, “Are you trying to flirt with me or start a fight?”
“Which would you prefer?” 
“Definitely flirting.” Doyoung grinned, wrapping his arms tighter around you. 
You hummed, content as sleep finally began to take its hold on you, “What happens now?”
“We can talk about it in the morning.” Doyoung kissed your temple, one hand running through your hair, “We should go to sleep.”
You snuggled further into his embrace, a content sigh escapes Doyoung’s lips. There was still so much left for the two of you to talk about, to actually work on if you wanted your relationship to last. But that was all to be discussed in the morning. Right now, for tonight and this very moment, Doyoung only decided on one thing: there was no way he was letting you leave again.
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shroomcult · 3 years
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@soulxmakaweek
Day 4: Apologize
I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.
Summary: 
Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.
Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic. 
**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.
It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.
After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery. 
The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well. 
Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.
The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.
Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes. 
Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.
It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.
They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason. 
Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.
More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.
She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.
He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.
He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.
All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though. 
Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.
Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.
She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.
And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.
He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.  
He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.
Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town. 
Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section. 
There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.
Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.  
He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.
He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.
“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.
Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”
Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”
“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.
Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.
Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.
“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.” 
Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.
Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up. 
Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.
“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.
“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”
Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.
“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”
He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.
“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.
A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.
 “I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.
He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”
Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”
“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.
She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.
Is she fucking serious?
Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness. 
It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.
“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.
“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.
Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?
After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check. 
The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.  
So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.
As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.
His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.
“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”
A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.” 
“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.
“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone. 
            _______________________________________________
Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.
It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him. 
She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue. 
And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear. 
She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.
She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.
“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”
In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight. 
“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.
“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”
Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.
“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”
“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?” 
Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question. 
“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.
This entire conversation was throwing her off.
“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”
Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine. 
“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out. 
“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”
“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.
He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.” 
“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?” 
Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”
She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance. 
“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.
The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides. 
She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.
But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.
Had she really been so blind? 
             _______________________________________________
Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.
He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.
It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.
He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue. 
Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get. 
As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her. 
He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends. 
He’d felt used.
Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.
Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.
Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.
Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.
All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.
She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.
“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater. 
“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.
She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.
“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I? 
Was that a trick question?
“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.
“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.
He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?
He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”
“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.
“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”
His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”
It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”
She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.
“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.
“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.
“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”
She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.
Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you’d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”
She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.
“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.
“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”
“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”
“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.
As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.
“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.
She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.
“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”
His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.
“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.
“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.
“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.
She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.
“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”  
Very articulate. Great job, Soul.
He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.
“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.
“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest. 
At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.
She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips. 
This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making. 
When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face. 
“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.
“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.
He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep. 
He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.
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elena-reina · 4 years
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Worth It - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Request: (1/3) heyyy, can you do an imagine that draco comforts you for having depression for whatever reason and one day he saw you standing on the roof of hog warts almost leaping off the balcony but he catches you in time (you can create the ending) thank u if you do!! :)) - Anon
(2/3) Can you do a one shot where Draco knows about the readers eating disorder and he helps her overcome it? I hope that makes sense, I love your stories so much, please don't stop writing! - Anon
(3/3) Yay, you’re back! I was wondering if you could do a Draco Malfoy x reader where he finds her self harming? I get it if you aren’t comfortable - Anon
Warnings: Very triggering- read with caution please, depression- suicide related, anorexia, self-harm
A/N: PLEASE READ! These three all fall under the same category for me, so I just combined them. I just want to make it clear that I am not, in any way, romanticizing or making it seem as though I am pro self-harm whatsoever; I purely write whatever requests come in. To those that do, I know you’ve got a lot going on and there is a lot of emotions, trauma, and hurt; believe me I know a lot about it. But it gets better, I promise you. It always gets better. Incase you all haven’t heard it, I love you, I care about you, and I know you’re strong enough to make it through anything. If anyone needs to talk, my messages are always open and again don’t ever think you’re not enough or worth it because you all are golden. You were put on this earth for a reason :)
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Just another day on top of another.
Yawning, you lightly scratched your head and stood in front of your mirror in your dorm room; nothing covered you besides your undergarments. Looking up and down your body completely still, you wouldn’t be able to tell there was anything wrong. You lifted your arm and looked at your wrist leading down your forearm; the markings covered the insides of your arms and varied in color, shape, and size. Some of them were old, obvious by how they shined and caught light at just the right angle. Some were bright red and bold, there was no denying it. Most were about a month old, looking like a cat scratched you and drew blood; which would be believeable considering you owned a cat- Pumpkin; some you could also blame on an accident. 
Well, what kind of accident?
Well, you didn’t have that answer. Not as if anyone were to ask anyways due to the fact that you kept them hidden in the first place.
You started at your feet, averting your eyes from your own reflection. Your feet were bony and thin, like the rest of your body. Raising your gaze, you winced at the emaciated figure that stared back at yourself. 
What had you let yourself become? 
To others, you looked sickly. 
Had you come to Hogwarts like this initially? No. It was harder to hide it at home, so your mind never crossed it other than maybe dark thoughts here and there.
Did you have a good life at home? Well, that’s subjective. You had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in the fridge. All the necessary things to provide as a necessity to live.
But did you have genuine friends, loving parents, and a place to call home? No.
Your once plump and vibrant self, now looked thin to the bone. Once the soul becomes so thin, the body will inevitably follow in its footsteps like a wandering toddler, learning and adapting from the shadows within. Instead of a growing sense of ultimate self-love, self-worth, or self-positivity, the soul doesn’t have the strength to ascend upwards to health anymore. And so it is extremely hard to eat more, even when it is a simple bite at a time; drink more, with a tiny sip of water needed to survive; live more, the simple act of breathing eventually gets difficult from time to time; and ultimately hard to listen to that part of yourself that wants to stay alive and be loved.
Would you still go to the Grand Hall? Well of course, if there was one thing you hated more than yourself was unwanted attention. Part of you belives it’s your fault that you don’t have friends soley because of how introverted you are. And with the friends, well friend, that you do have just so happens to be the person most people don’t get along with; Draco Malfoy.
What’re the odds.
There definitely was more to it than just being “friends” with Draco, but neither of you fully acknowledged it. He knew about your eating disorder, and he tries his best to help you, encouraging you every step of the way- even when you blatantly push him away.
You never asked for help- Not that he cared if you did or didn’t anyway.
Turning away from the mirror, you slipped on your white button up shirt making sure to clip the button around your wrist, taking attention away for your skin. Sliding on your skirt, Y/H tie, and your Y/H robe, you were ready to head down for breakfast. 
Your hand rested on the cold metal door knob, as you stared at the small piece of silver metal on top of your dresser; whom you have a terrible relationship with. You bit your lip, hesitating. You knew you shouldn’t take it. You knew you shouldn’t have it on you because it will only ingite triggers. 
Fuck it.
You quickly walked over to your dresser and picked up the sharp piece to put in your pocket. Spinning on your heel, you headed on out of the room and to the Grand Hall.
You walked through the aisles, and immediately met with Draco’s eyes. He lit up and waved you over to your usual seat right beside him. He scooted over, patting the space next to him as you sat down. He grinned, happy to see you.
“G’morning, Y/N,” he said pulling you into a tight hug. He was always careful when touching you because he felt like he could snap you in half if he were to be too rough on you.
You smiled warmly, breathing in his calming smell. “Good morning, Draco.”
“Alright, I know we’ve been doing baby steps for the longest time, but I think you are just about ready,” he spoke.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’re you talking about?”
He leaned over the table and placed food onto your plate, more than he’s put on the last times. Before it would just be pieces of fruit here and there, maybe a piece of sausage; but this time he put a waffle, more fruit, and two slices of bacon.
Your stomach gurgled for the food, desperate to be full off of something. But at the same time, you felt sick to your stomach.
“Draco, this is too much. I’m not even all that hungry. We had a big dinner the night before remember?”
“Nonesense, you literally only ate a handfull of rice and two small pieces of asparagus last night. Even my owl eats more than that,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
You stared at your plate, leaning back. Your tongue felt dry, despite your cup of water being right in front of you. Your throat felt as if someone thrust a handful of itching powder down and it was dying to be coughed out. If possible, you could sit in the chair for fifteen hours straight; you just weren’t in the mood to eat.
“Listen, you don’t have to eat it all, but please try for me.”
You nodded and picked up your fork, stabbing to the orange melon. Bringing it to your lips, you slowly chewed as your stomach was growling in pleasure being finally fed. 
Draco cheered you on with every bite, causing you to laugh. He wanted to distract you so that you focused less on what you’re eating and more on conversing with him so you weren’t as distracted with how much you were eating.
Eventually, you finished about half the waffle, all your fruit, and had no more bacon left. You were surprised at yourself when you looked back at your plate and then to him.
“I’m so proud of you! You ate more than I expected- not that I am complaining, I’m definitely not because I am really happy for you,” he quickly chuckled, “Maybe tomorrow we can put two waffles.” He nudged the side of your bony rib jokinly.
“Ha ha very funny,” you joked, rolling your eyes. 
After some time, you had to go to class. Sadly, you didn’t share many classes with Draco if at all. Walking into potions, you sat in your usual seat in the back of the room. As usual, there were always a few Slytherin’s that would pester you  solely because you were one of the few people in the school who was able to even share the same space as Draco; it was pure jealousy but you didn’t have a say in anything, or even how your friendship blossomed in the first place.
“Y/L/N,” Daphne sneered, leaning close to your face.
You really tried your best to focus on your Potions book but the group of girls that taunt you every single day just so happened to want to be extra annoying and sit around you. And when I say around you, I mean literally in front of you, next to you, on both sides, and even behind you. You lifted your head from your hand to looked at Daphne in front of you, considering she was right in your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but she beat you to it.
“I really don’t understand how us purebloods are forced to associate with people like you rotting mudbloods,” she giggled, making a disgusted expression as she said the last part. Her friends burst out into obnoxious laughter. 
You weren’t even a mudblood. You had friends who weren’t magical, but that only led people to paint you as a mudblood.
"Can’t say anything? Can’t stick up for yourself Y/L/N? My goodness, do you even speak or is that too hard for you?” Sarah on the side of you asks, awaiting your response, “I see the way you have Draco baby you. It’s pathetic really.”
They took your silence as an answer and continued but this time it was Heather behind you. "See, she doesn’t even deny it,” she snickered, "Just look at you. I don’t see what he sees in you. You look like, I don’t even know how to say it, a walking pole-”
“No, a broken twig!” Daphne interjected, laughing.
“Yes a broken twig!” Heather continued, slowly enunciating each word, “Nothing but a pathetic, filthy, mudblood who pretends to be sick just to get the attention from those who actually matter.” 
Each word felt like a stab in an open wound over and over again, being thrusted through your entire body. Tears welled up in your eyes as you blankly stared down at your Potions book, threatening to fall at any given moment. 
“What? Cat’s still got your tongue?” Alicia from the other side of you jerked, shoving on your roughly causing you to bump into Sarah. Sarah let out a disgusted groan and pushed you back off of her.
“Gross! Do not touch me!” she gagged, as Heather joined in and pushed you to the point that you fell out of your seat and roughly onto the floor with a loud smack.
“HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!” someone in the classroom, whom you recognized as Justin Finch-Fletchley, spoke loudly finally witnessing what was happening.
Tears silently cascaded down your cheeks. He quickly jogged over to you as the mean girls dispersed to a different part of the classroom snickering together.
“Are you alright?” he asked concerned, extending his arm out towards you. You looked at his hand through blurry eyes and nodded, lightly grabbing onto him. He helped you to your feet. Grabbing onto your book, you turned and rushed out of the room and headed in the direction of the bathroom.
Keeping you head low, you sped walked, and crashed into someone that sent you flying to the floor. Choking over your tears, you didn’t bother to look at who it was and instead rushed to find your Potions book and hurry out of there.
“Y/N?” that familiar voice spoke.
Draco.
You still avoided eyecontact as you kept searching to your book only to find him holding onto it, to give to you. Standing up, you straightened out your skirt. Lightly grabbing it, you whispered a quiet thank you and tried to continue down the hallway. He stopped you grabbing onto your arm, alarmed.
“Woah, wait. What’s going on, what happened, what’s wrong?” he asked all at once as he watched the translucent tears glide down the sides of your face. You stood straight.
“Please, let me go,” you spoke softly, your voice slightly cracking.
“Was someone saying bullshit to you? Did someone hurt you? Because you know I’m always here for you and I’ll make sure they don’t say anything to or about you ever again.” He growls getting angrier by the second.
“I just really want to be left alone, Draco. I’m sorry,” you said snatching your arm back and sped walked down the hallway.
His scowl lightens, worrying for you. He slowly followed you. 
Initially you wanted to go to the bathroom, but changed your mind last minute. Turning a different corner, you kept going up more and more stairs until you inevitably reached the top of the Hogwarts building. Rushing to the edge, you dropped your book onto the floor and stood slightly leaning over the edge to get a good look at the bottom of the building with your hair flowing in the wind. It was a long way down that will ultimately end up in costing you your life. Trying to force yourself out of your thoughts, you looked in your pocket for that piece of metal, grateful that you grabbed it earlier. Frantically unbuttoning the shirt around your wrist, you felt numb as you choked over your tears silently.
“I’m not worth it,” you thought to yourself.
You stood on the brink of something you couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on your shoulders and you struggled to take even a single step forward towards anything positive.
You felt worthless. 
A waste of space. A waste of air. A waste of life. 
It was too much. All of it. 
The tingle as the sharp metal glided against your skin provided a senseless, numb feeling. Every step cost you as the darkness in your mind grew darker and darker; the pain grew sharper and stronger; all of it seemed to only swell in strength and you began to wonder if things could ever get better.
You were tired of feeling things. Everyday felt like never ending dread. With an exception of Draco, nothing seemed worth it anymore. Hell, Draco will only end up forgetting about you in the end of it all.
You don’t play that much of a significant role in his life to matter to him in the long run.
Sometimes you wonder if someone ever notices that sad, broken look in your eyes that you see in the mirror that are masked with a smile and fake enthusiasm. 
If they see beauty where you see ugliness. 
You laugh, traveling up your arm going over old scars, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at yourself. Nobody cares. No one notices. 
They never seem to, do they? You’ve fought for years, all for what.
The crimson liquid dripped down your arm, falling onto the stone floor. The wind pushed and howled against you as though to try and shove you back. Clumsily, you dropped your metal blade.
“No!” you shouted, dropping to your knees and it fell further and further, out of your sight. You choked over your sobs, feeling broken. Your arm stung and you looked at it through blurry tears.
“I can’t take this anymore,” you spoke aloud to yourself and shakily stood up. You inched closer and closed on the edge, as you looked up inhaling the fresh air. With one last breath, you closed your eyes, opened your arms, and took your last step forward and felt the pressure of the wind beat you on the way down. 
The blackness behind your eyes was perfect. It provided a visual silence that gave a respected admiration. With your eyes closed there was the simple sweetness of the longing of existing, of being, of breathing, and how those moments extended with such grace until you are met with the concluding dark abyss.
Prior while had Draco followed you, he could feel the dark and depressive energy emerging out of your presense. He knew you needed your space, but something was off. The higher and higher you went up the stairs, he had enough of following you and simply looked up. Only the worse things plagued his mind as he quickly rushed back down the stairs and sprinted through the halls to hurry and get outside. He had no seconds to waste, because he had a feeling you were going to try and jump.
He could’ve followed you all the way to the top, but if you had jumped he would’ve been to late. At least this way, he had a chance of catching you.
Ignoring the pain in his chest from running, he ran pushing anyone and everyone who got in his way. 
Darting outside, his eyes widened as he saw your body flying down the side of the building. With one last push of exertion, he caught you in his arms just in time. He fell forward into the floor, but was sure to cradle your head so you got the least amount of injury.
Breathing heavily up and down. You opened your eyes and met Draco’s silver, scared ones. You didn’t know what to think. You didn’t think he was going to be there. Your fresh wounds, began to soak up in his white shirt. Draco sees them, the sight of your new scars reveal themselves to him. He sees your arm, not that he’s surprised. Still being held in his arms protectively, he starts to cry. 
“Y/N,” he says your name like you had just broken his heart.
Your throat tightens and you feel yourself on the brink of tears as your eyes stung. You didn’t know what to say. You were broken.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say or do. “I’m sorry. I–”
He interrupts you. “Why...” he stammers gazing down at your arm, “How many times?” He rang a soft finger down your arm, wincing at every raw wound.
“I don’t know,” you mumbles. 
“For fuck’s sake,” he cried out, his tears dripping off his chin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t…I wasn’t there for you enough.”
You shake your head, “No, Draco, it wasn’t your fault–”
Draco looked down at you with confusion and anger before he smashed his desperate lips onto yours.
Suddenly, the anger, the self-hatred, the loathing, the rage left your body for a split moment. It diminished as soon as his lips pressed against yours in a long over-due, intense passion. It was as if he was taking all away all your pain and misery and threw it away.
You kissed him back with burning amount of fiery love he was kissing you with. Your lips worked hungrily against his as his hands snaked their way to your waist and pulled your shaking body closer to his to kiss you deeper.
Your cold hands grabbed his face and pulled it closer to yours, if that was even possible. His calming scent flowed through your nostils, making your eyes water under your closed eyes.
Too many emotions were going through your brain and you couldn’t handle it. Deep down,  you had always dreamt of being with Draco. Although, you wish that it could have happened under very different and happier circumstances. Nonetheless, you were grateful.
Pulling away, he gazed into your eyes. “Y/N, can you answer me why? Why didn’t you come and talk to me.”
You tried diverting your gaze, but he grabbed your chin with his hand lightly to keep his eyes locked with yours. “Please.”
“I can’t take it anymore. I hate myself and everything I stand for,” you began to cry, “I just... I just thought it would make it easier for everyone else if I were to end everything and erase myself from existence.”
“I would miss you and I don’t know what I would do without you. What if I had just offed myself and left you there to wonder where you went wrong.”
You broke down into sobs, burying your face into his neck as he embraced you in a tight hug.
You shook. “I... I know, but I’m nothing special. I’m just–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he snapped harshly. “You are so fucking perfect, it drives me insane. I love you so goddamn much, do you know that? Do you? I love you too much to let you keep doing this to yourself. You are worth it. You are loved. You are my everything. I want you to remember that feeling you had right now at the thought of me ending my life, because that’s what you’re doing to me whenever you cut me out of your life like I’m nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” you cried lifting your head sniffing, “Draco, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. I was just…I was just..” but you didn’t have any excuse, so you collapsed back into his warm embrace.
“I know,” he murmurs against your hair. “I know. I love you. I love you so much.”
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goblinmanifesto · 3 years
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Ive already accidentally deleted this once so fucking kill me (I forgot to save it).
⚠️TW FOR ANXIETY, TOURETTES, SLIGHT SELF HARM⚠️
But this is my post for @doinmybesthere Mental Health Awareness May collab! I will be doing Bokuto Koutarou. To explain a bit, to cope with bullshit that is life, I accidentally made myself a coping mechanism that I loving refer to as the ‘Klaus Hargreeves‘ (if you know anything about that character, you already know where my mental state is) because I can’t remember what my therapist said the actual name for it was. To put it simply, it’s like overactive day dreaming. I act out and create scenarios in my head to comfort myself, most of the time using characters or real people as an enabler for the comfort I wish to gain. Side effects being; if caught, considered crazy, sometimes don’t realize I’m doing it which can lead to awkward situations, sometimes I fuck up what’s real and what’s not. So, in these little stories, I will be retelling scenarios I have created through this coping mechanism that relate to both Bokuto and my mental problems! Each will be labeled with what they deal with so you can skip the one that might trigger you. Enjoy and happy reading! (I WILL ALSO BE MENTIONING AND USING STIMMING) ((I will probably use this to make other fics like this in the future mentioning my other ~stuff~ but in the meantime this is all I want to do so enjoy!))
⚠️LAST TW⚠️
1. ~Anxiety, Self harm, Mentions of Stimming~ He should’ve been home an hour ago! I was pacing in the living room, shaking hands holding my phone. It was 7:13 and Koutarou was supposed to be home at 6:00. I was spiraling and I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Id sent him text after text, but he was yet to respond. I glanced at my cell, only stopping my frantic shuffling to focus my attention on reading the screen;
Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12] -Unread-
My eyes scanned the messages again, not leaving the blue screen until until my shin collided with the side of the coffee table. I hadn’t even realized I had started pacing again. I checked the texts I had sent to Akaashi as well, since I knew he was at that practice too, but I hadn’t gotten any responses from him either. Slipping my phone screen up onto the table I continued my pacing, not even processing when my finger nails found their way under my teeth, and how when they left my mouth to scratch at my neck or claw at my shirt, my teeth resorted to gnawing at my lip instead, tearing up the thin skin. All habits I was trying to kill but didn’t have enough brain power to focus on not doing them. My eyes constantly searched the driveway for the headlights of any car, any car at all, but they always came up with nothing. It was 7:24 when my phone struck with the sound of text, the bing of anticipation sent me diving for, and consequently almost dropping, my phone in an attempt to find out if it was Koutarou. It was!
Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12]
-Read-
Im so sorry!! Yes practice did end up running late! But something else happened and I
wasn’t able to text you! I’m not mad about
anything I promise!! What happened is also
minor and nothing to worry about and I’ll explain when I get home in about ten
[7:21] minutes!! I’m so sorry!! -Read-
I sighed, relieved, the weight on my chest and in my head dissolved and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Though, as I came down from my anxiety rush, I became aware of a lot of things all at once. The first was a good deal of pain. From knocking my leg into a table and pacing for over an hour, to bitten lips and nails, and my scraped neck. I groaned, I need to get a better handle on this.
But that wasnt important. Koutarou was okay and on his way home! I waited at the window, feeling a bit like a dog waiting on its owner (that was a kink joke yes), and leaped to the front door when I saw his car in the driveway. Throwing open the door, I pulled him inside the second I could get my hands on him and pulled him through the doorway. The moment he was inside, I shoved myself into his arms in a tight hug, so glad he was okay. He returned the hug and held me tightly, I let out a shuddering breathe and he let out comforting sounds I sometimes use to stim. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m so sorry to have you worry, it was about Akaashi! We were running extra practice with a handful of the other guys and I literally had half a text to you written out when he a spike to the face! I was the only one left with a car so I drove him to hospital! I’m so sorry you are so worried you sent like 15 texts! I’m so-“ I cut him short with a hand over his mouth since that was one of the only ways to get him to stop talking. “Kou, it’s okay, I understand, it just really scared me ‘is all-“ he pried my hand off his face but held it in his own.
”I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apologize for it, whether I was in complete control of the situation or not! Which I was not, by the way, no control what-so-fucking-ever, I had four other guys in the car and one of them was bleeding and concussed, it was chaos!!” His eyes were wide and he went off on the stress of the situation and, for a moment, I forgot that it was 7:26 at night on a Thursday and I had a biology test in the morning, and that Koutarou just got home and I hadn’t even eaten yet and all the other things that werent right in the world. Everything was fine in that moment. But that ended when Koutarou took a good hard look at me. The redness and scratch marks on my neck, the bitten to bleeding finger nails, the small bruise forming on my shin, my blotchy face and my probably-way-too-red lips. He stopped dead in his words and I felt my eyebrows scrunch up.
“Whats wrong?-“
“You did the things again didn’t you?!” He sounded distressed and his broad shoulders sunk. Koutarous hands rubbed my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with the most concerned look I’d ever seen. He pulled me back to his chest again and promised it wouldn’t happen again.
7:46, Koutarou insisted on taking care of my ‘injuries’ since he was who I was having anxiety over anyway. I protested a little, but gave up when he gave me the baby-owl eyes.
First, he had wrapped bandaids on my fingers. Thankfully, they were black, and I made a comment on it was like a 2-second manicure just to hear him chuckle.
Then, Kou applied a moisturizer to my neck. “Kou, I can do this myself-“
”Nope! I insist!”
”I’m not a child-“
”Don’t care, I’m doing it so just shush up and let me do what I need to do!”
Next, he made me apply ice to my bruise even though it was tiny and caused by a damn two-foot-tall coffee table.
Lastly, he gave me chapstick. Again, wouldn’t let me do it myself, so I made several sarcastic remarks to make him blush, all working quite well. Koutarou had to tell me to stop giggling multiple times so I could stay still.
”Alright, are you done playing nurse?”
”Forgive me for wanting to take care of you!!” He stuck his tongue out at me with an audible “bleh!” and I cackled.
”You are forgiven, Nurse Bokuto.”
2. ~Tourette’s, Stimming~ My neck painfully popped when it jerked to the left, my tics had been bad all day and I no clue why. Could be exams, or the fucking toaster for all I knew. I hissed, rubbing at my neck and adjusting the water can I almost dropped, trying to continue about my Saturday.
It was obnoxious, really, having to me-proof everything around in case I end up kicking it, dropping it, or hitting it. My joints constantly cracking and snapping and jolting in the strangest ways at any given moment. Sometimes repeating what people say back at them in perfect mirror-like fashion. Though that last one can be kind of funny.
Clicking my toungue to make nice noises to try and stim the tic away, I returned back to my plants. I could feel them chuckling at me and, in that moment, I understood everything about Crowley from ‘Good Omens’.
I heard the door unlock in the other room and I put my can down as a precaution and peeked out of the doorway.
A moment later, Koutarou popped through the door after his morning jog. He called out; “Hey, hey, hey!” as a greeting.
I felt my hands go up behind my head and I thought Oh gods dammit, and then my jaw jutted forward in a very unattractive way and I repeated his phrase in the same manner as him, then immediately dropped, as my body decreed.
I groaned, looking up at him, who looked slightly bewildered at my little madness ritual. His hair laid flat on his head, he had chosen not to mess with it this morning, much to my delight, his amber eyes a little wide and his eyebrows raised. He was barely even in the house yet.
We just kind of stared at each other for a hot second before I awkwardly waved ‘hello’ and cracked a weird grin. He grinned back, his more pleasant than mine. Walking over, he opened his arms for a hug, and I accepted, since he wasn’t all that sweaty this time around, and it was the least I could do since he had to witness that.
Koutarou planted a kiss on the top of my head, cheering “Good morning!”
I muttered a response into his shirt.
“One of those days, huh?” I nodded.
“Coffee? I think we have muffins in the cabinet?” I nodded again and he lead me into the kitchen to set up some breakfast. It was 9:00 am on a Saturday after all. A weird Saturday, but watching Koutarou finagle through the cabinets, it couldn’t be that bad.
That is all for now! Have a wonderful day and I am going to sleep for three years see y’all (edited: June 18 2021, because I can’t spell)
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rvmmm21 · 4 years
Text
. half that, at best .
summary : lying over text will get you far. seulgi considers herself quite the catfish connoisseur, in a sense, acting twice her size to swoon her date. unfortunately, that only works if you don’t live with four -- very determined people -- who’ll stop at nothing to pry the good and honest truth out of you.
small note : not an original idea, my role is messenger, nothing more. just here to fulfil my promise to drag the very... *perceptive*... reaadvelvet (whom you can all thank for this delicious torment) down with me. also wow, first time i’ve written about vibrators and they’re... hard to write for. also dirty talk y i k e s. hands up, who can tell i was running on 2 hours of sleep when i wrote this? i proofread later i sleep now.
[cocky(g!p)seulgi x wenrenejoyri]
tw : dubcon, degredation, humiliation.
...
Yerim cracks the door open and peers into her room. The air is so damp and heavy with perfume her nose crinkles and she has to practically swat at it to clear the soft lavender fog.
“Unnie, I asked Joohyun unnie and she said yes to pizza tonight,” she says, leaning into the doorway and speaking into the direction of the girl sitting on the bed hunched over her phone, texting furiously.
The younger girl speaks again, louder this time. “Yah! Unnie. Are you listening?”
Seulgi shoots up from the bright LED screen and casts her attention on her impatient housemate, who’s now standing before her, open-palmed and waiting. “… ngh, sorr – sorry, Yerimie, wha – huh?”
Yerim rolls her eyes. “Phone. Give it. I know you have coupons.”
“… mm, yeah… just…”
She’s so distracted, it’s annoying, Yerim thinks. Both her and her unnies are starving for some pizza goodness out there and all Seulgi can think about is getting her dick wet with her dumb little date tonight. With a final head shake, she looses the patience she’s never had, reaching down to snatch the device out of Seulgi’s grasp.
“No!” she yelps, a little too much desperation in her tone, “… Minji’s gonna be here soon, I –”
But Yerim’s already scrolling.
“Wow, can you stop texting your stupid tinder date for like one minute? I’m trying to – wait, what?” she pauses to properly read the screen again before throwing her head back in the loudest cackle the other girl has ever heard, “… I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk anymore?!”
Seulgi knew she was going to be discovered the minute her phone left her hands. She hadn’t had time to close the app before an impatient Yerim had rudely swiped it out of her clutches. Still, it didn’t stop the crippling embarrassment eating away at her from the inside out when she heard all her steamy, filthy exchanges coming off the lips of their mischievous maknae. All lies, of course, but Minji didn’t have to know that. She had already come up with a list of excuses for why she wouldn’t be able to spend the night or why they’d always have to do it ‘next time’. But all that seems to be falling apart before her eyes, now that Yerim’s the one with the power.
“Yah!” she screams, jumping up from her bed and frantically trying to pilfer it from the girl who’s too wildly curious to let go. “Stop! Shut – no! Give – give it back, shush!”
Yerim’s folded over on the floor now, clutching at her sides with how apparently hilarious Seulgi’s sexting is. “Unnie – unnie!” she manages between fits of laughter, “how are you gonna do that when you can’t even… you can’t even last like twenty seconds!”
Before she knows it, the whole house has gathered into her room. Seulgi grits her teeth at how Yerim’s obnoxious cackling lured the other four in. They simply observe for the moment, poorly concealed enjoyment painted on their faces, seconds away from partaking in the ‘fun’ themselves.
Suddenly, they’re interested in something else… and it isn’t how much they can get off of their next pizza order.
“Another one, another one!” Sooyoung’s taken to egging Yerim on, who’s more than beside herself with glee. The youngest wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and gracefully proceeds, doing her best impression of what she assumes Seulgi sounds like all hot and bothered.
A red-faced Seulgi, wishing the ground would just swallow her whole, just buries her face between her knees, having long given up trying to get her phone back. Any attempt she’s made to preserve the shreds of dignity she’s clung onto since this whole episode started is about to be torn from her when Yerim opens her mouth.
“A-And… and I hope you’re ready, cause I can… oh my god, cause I can go for ten hours, baby!”
This triggers an entire wave of laughter, from everyone, this time. Not that it matters to the girl in question. Poor Seulgi can barely hear them over the sound of her own utter horror pulsing heavily in her ears. She can’t even fucking leave because Joohyun and Seungwan are barricading the entrance, arms crossed out in front of them like bodyguards. And they’re wearing those awful grins, too.
Seulgi has to wonder if they’d planned this all along… or if they’ve just been practicing their non-verbal cues during their spare time and conveniently leaving her out. Either way, it’s all she has time to think before they’re pouncing on her, all at once.
God, they’re fast. And she’s helpless.
With Sooyoung and Seungwan on either side of her pinning her under their full bodyweight, she’s left with little to no wriggle room and swiftly depleting sensation in both arms. She can already feel the sweat dripping. Joohyun humming a little tune to herself as she scans her bedroom doesn’t help either. She’s searching for an appropriate tool of ‘quality control’, as she so forebodingly put it.
Finally, in an open drawer, she spots the perfect solution, with its cord dangling out far too invitingly to overlook.
When she hears the flip of a switch and the horribly familiar whirr, Seulgi does her best to crane her neck up, struggling to see past the tangle of limbs draped across her and weighing her down. She knows what it is, and she isn’t keen. “… wh-what… unnie… why have you … what do you –”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Joohyun cuts her off before she has the chance to finish. “Big girls don’t need to know what’s coming at them to be able handle it, do they?”
“Ten hours, huh?” Yerim asks in an incredulous giggle from the corner of her room. “I mean, that’s super impressive, so we just wanna see for ourselves, you know? Right, Seungwan unnie?”
Just like that, Seulgi finds her fragile fate in Seungwan’s hands, and she doesn’t seem nearly as careful with it, almost like she wants to see it shatter. “Mhm,” the smaller girl concurs with a nod before turning down to face the crimson one of the girl below them. “What’s a more realistic time, d’ya think? Five? Five minutes?”
Sooyoung quickly interjects. “Five? Hah!” she scoffs, “I’m not even giving her two. Look at it.”
All eyes laser downwards to the tip of Sooyoung’s finger, where -- to everyone’s delight (and Seulgi’s repulsion) -- there’s a very obvious tent in her jeans. So obvious, in fact, that her arousal is perfectly highlighted through the thick denim that has moulded around it to create a very captivating shape. 
Seulgi opens her mouth like she has any hopes of defending herself, but the potential words break off into a breathy whine when the faint whirring she hears above her directly translates into sheer jolts of pleasure that rip through her body from her crotch. It’s incredibly difficult, but she squints down to see Joohyun holding a purple vibrator between her spread knees, intermittently running it up and down the growing length.
They all watch as it vibrates her to a full erection, helpless and hard and just begging to be taught a lesson.
“Here’s the deal, Seul,” she deadpans. “Since you’re sooo good in bed… since you’re apparently going to fuck Minji till she can’t walk anymore, I think it’s only fair that you prove it, don’t you?”
Oh… there aren’t words that can possibly describe the dread now coursing through Seulgi’s veins at that prospect, despite herself.
“So, yes, I think I agree with Sooyoung. Two minutes. If you last two minutes, we’ll forget this ever happened. And you’re going to last, aren’t you? You’re going to last.”
She hadn’t even noticed Joohyun hadn’t offered the consequences of her failure to hold out. She couldn’t. That was the least of her concerns, for now, anyway. The sensation of being vibed through her trousers was… deafening, to say the least.
You’re going to last, they said. Seulgi chants that in her brain like it’ll make her last longer, like it’ll help her succeed. But… but she’s not sure she can. No, she has to. No matter what, that’s not happening… she can’t – she’s not going to – cum in her trousers.
Oh but it’s getting harder and harder not to want to. Not when Joohyun hasn’t even given her cock a chance to get used to the tingly sensation, going in at the highest setting to begin with. It’s unbearable, even over her jeans… especially over her jeans.
“… uh – uh – nnie…” she’s panting out, screwing her eyes shut to prevent them from going glassy, “… p-please… please don’t… I… it’s… too – too high…”
Joohyun knows she’s referring to the setting, and of course, does anything but what Seulgi wants her to do, which is lower it… or stop. In fact, the younger swears she feels it stronger now, pressed unforgivingly flush against her straining boner, just enticing her to lose her load right into her underwear. Seungwan’s fingers skim over a flushed cheek, cruelly teasing as she wipes Seulgi’s tears with the pad of her thumb.
“But our little Seulgi likes it high, doesn’t she?” she smirks down at hips bucking up into thin air, desperate for some friction other than the intense sparks of electricity zipping through her from the vibrator. “Gosh, baby, you’re so hard you’re poking through your jeans… poor, poor Minji, hm? Don’t you feel sorry for her? I sure do! If she knows she’s been talking to nothing but thorough lack of self-control and a pair of cum-stained jeans this whole time… my, my, what would she think?”
Sooyoung adjusts her weight so she’s leaning to purr into Seulgi’s ear with barely contained amusement. “Should we tell her, unnie? It’s only fair to the customer… we’ve inspected the goods, and uh… they don’t seem to be in ‘working order’.”
There’s a whimper and then a slight shift. Joohyun picks this up.
“Gonna cum, Seul?” she asks, eyebrow raised.
“… hgnh – noo…” Seulgi shakes her head vigorously.
However, when the oldest sees chestnut locks gracelessly splayed across the bedsheet, erratic breathing and probably the teariest eyes in the history of teary eyes, she has to laugh. It’s not like she believed her sniffling Seulgi in the first place – not when she can literally feel her cock twitching under her palm, leaking precum by the gallon. Fingers tighten around the trapped boner, and Seulgi lets out a pathetic mewl. “Oh I think you are.”
“I – no – I’m… I’m – ah! No… nooo…”
“Aw, poor baby can’t control herself. Is your little cock all leaky?” Seungwan’s got an arm across her chest to shove her back down whenever she tries to push up, to keep her pinned as the threat of cumming in her jeans stalks closer and closer. “You still have 30 seconds.”
Goddamnit, 30 seconds? The fact she didn’t shoot the moment that godawful vibrator was in her line of sight was no less than a miracle… how the hell is she supposed to last 30 bloody seconds longer? The thought of soiled underwear and wet spots strikes a crawling heat in her cheeks, up her neck and down her arms. A heat that almost overtakes the one between her legs. Almost. It’s built up to an ache so pulsing, she just can’t ignore it. The room is spinning, and she feels dizzy and heated and it hurts… it hurts so good. The way Joohyun has the vibrator meticulously positioned so it teases the sensitive underside of her cock just right almost off-sets how ashamed she is that this is even happening at all.
“… n-not – a – baby,” she stutters, each word punctuated by an involuntary thrust of her hips against that numbing sensation driving her mad. Every upward motion has the zipper line rubbing harshly over her shaft, the thin fabric of her underwear doing little to shield her from the rough stimulation.
“You’re nothing but a baby!” Sooyoung coos, scrunching her face at Seulgi, who can’t even see her clearly through that sheen over her pupils. “Big girls don’t cum in their little panties just from a vibrator.”
“Ten seconds left.”
It’s a voice, but Seulgi’s so dazed she can’t pinpoint whose.
“Poor Minji, she’s gonna be so upset when she finds out our little Seul still makes messes in her underwear!”
“Nine…”
“Seulgi-ah, why did you bother putting make-up on? It’s not like she’s gonna be looking at your face tonight.”
“Eight…”
Searing rivers of tears are streaming down reddened cheeks because of how mean everyone’s being to her. If it weren’t for the raging stiffness threatening to bust through the seam of her jeans, you’d almost think she wasn’t enjoying this.
“Seven…”
She’s practically giving herself whiplash from how much she’s jerking and twisting, trying anything to escape the stares of the four girls looming over her – watching and waiting for the inevitable with ear-to-ear grins.
“Six…”
Just as she thinks she’s actually going to make the full two minutes, Joohyun slides the vibrator up to settle on the head of her cock, so sensitive, so painfully overstimulated –
– that she can’t take anymore.
The teasing, the vibration, the humiliation… god, it’s too much and it’s making her – making her cum.
Her jaw goes slack and she arches up despite the combined weights of Sooyoung and Seungwan holding her down. She reaches her limit with a tiny, broken whimper as warm liquid spills into her underwear, seeping through and soaking the dense fabric of her jeans.
That’s going to be an orgasm to remember. The high is magnificent, if not a little excruciating, and it leaves her a dishevelled, breathless heap of nerves. Oh but… but her date! Oh no, she needs to regain her senses as quickly as she can and she needs to get cleaned up and she needs a new pair of jeans and –
“No, you don’t, Seul,” Joohyun interrupts her frantic thoughts. “Don’t even think of a fresh pair of jeans right now. You’re already running late. She’s gonna be here any minute now.”
She’s too weak to even protest when she feels two strong arms hoist her up and only wobbly knees. When it’s obvious she can’t walk on her own, they resort to physically escorting her out of her room… past the living room… and, oh gosh… right for the door.
She wants to beg, to plead with them not to do this, but she’s outnumbered, and she knows it’s pointless. This is happening whether she wants it to or not.
“It’s okay, little baby,” Seungwan winks, gesturing to the wetness on her jeans, obvious as ever. “At least that’s one thing you can be truthful about.”
She almost sobs when the door shuts in her face, and it only intensifies when she hears the childish giggling behind it. The evening air feels cool against the sweat on her back and absolutely frigid against that spot on her crotch. She barely has time to shiver and collect herself before she’s holding an arm over her eyes to shield them from the blinding pair of headlights that are now in front of her.
Oh god no. She hadn’t been through enough tonight? But this is what she gets for lying.
She has nowhere to go, and she can only pray that she’s doing a good job at hiding her embarrassment from the pretty girl now winding down the window with a cheery, “Hiya! Seulgi?”
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themidnightfarmer · 4 years
Text
Babes in Mimeland || Nora & Jared
Timing: This past week sometime.
Location: The common.
Tagging: @fearfordinner​
Description: 
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Triggers: Mimes?
Jared wasn’t completely comfortable to be away from the farm that day, but he’d given his word, and he wasn’t going to go back on it. Surely everything would be fine for an hour or two while he did this. So there he stood, in a t-shirt that implored passing customers to support the performers behind him. He was holding flyers and smiling as wide as he could whilst flagging down passers-by to take them. A mime he’d started to consider a friend had mimed that he should come and help them out that day, the mime in question part of an air-band as a side hustle for working at Yours, mime, and ours (where Jared was a frequent customer). “Don’t forget to support your local mime performers! They’re good at what they do and they have mouths to feed at home whilst working on their passions!”
A music box was an odd reward Nora decided twisting the box around in her hands. The eyeball, a necklace that she’d taken to wearing frequently, was a much more satisfactory prize. Nora was about to flip open the prize she’d come to winterfest to claim when her eye was caught by the mime band. Oh great! They were performing. Music box forgotten and shoved into her pocket, Nora trudged through the crowd to admire the artists at work. There were no hard feelings on her part that her last encounter with a mime had left her rainbow colored for a week. There were hard feelings to deal with on her part with the idea that her favorite mime had died right in front of her. Ideas that she refused to acknowledge. A shout about helping mimes made her ears perk up. Nora snatched a flyer from a giant, glancing over it. “I want to help.” She announced. “The mimes are great.” 
Most people passing Jared by were trying their very best to ignore him, he watched many fliers find their way into the trash. It was a little disheartening but overall expected, you didn’t have shirts like the one he was wearing unless there was some serious stigma going on. His head tilted down and a more genuine smile bloomed on his face as someone actively approached to take a flier. “They are! One of my friends is in the band, they’re honestly great at what they do and everything helps, people in town aren’t so forgiving for being different…” he trailed off before he could add just how strange he found that considering the variety of species that you could find in all corners. Jared blinked away the thought and returned to focus on the person showing interest. “So-” He was cut off by an obnoxious laugh off to the left towards the gingerbread house. He couldn’t quite hear what was said but the way the group of people mock mimed along with the band rubbed him the wrong way. His face soured. 
Friends? With a mime? Was that legal? Wouldn’t that be like being friends with mythical legends who are way cooler than you? Like the real babadook or maybe the boogyman? Even goatman. They were all famous figures Nora admired but wouldn’t know how to befriend if they were before her. It was a sudden moment of awe as her blank gaze passed between the giant and the band. If she helped could she be friends too? Nora dug in her pocket and pulled out her beaten up old wallet. She was ready to pay a large sum of money before laughter met her ears and she could see a group of adults, probably in their late to mid thirties, making fun of the mimes. A different way to help crossed her mind as she watched them enter the gingerbread house. “What if we scared them?” Nora asked, her monotone making it sound like a serious and reasonable suggestion. “Make a point that people can’t keep mocking mimes because they are quiet.” 
He’d forgotten what he’d planned on saying next to the other when she piped up with an idea. Jared looked after the group as they laughed and joked at the expense of his mime friends before heading into the gingerbread house. He nodded slowly before deciding it was a perfect idea, no amount of money fixed hurt feelings, but a little bit of revenge might. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea. People are always doing stuff like that.” Jared frowned and tucked the fliers into his back pocket, ready to so what it took to have those meanies regret their choices. “Let’s do it.” he said only pausing a split second before moving towards the gingerbread house (that had already closed its door on the group, trapping them) to ask “What’s your name anyway? Since you’re leading the charge, what’s the name of the commander? I’m Jared.” he offered preemptively.
Commander? Nora liked being called a commander. She could see it now, a field of dead bodies around her as she stood tall, proud on a rock, wearing a military jacket. There’d be some life in the people somewhere, and they would be full of fear. Life changing fear. The kind of fear that made for a meal instead of just a snack. She’d paint that picture later. “Nora.” Nora answered, her affect betraying nothing of the mental spiral she’d just followed. “Are you good at scaring people?” Nora hadn’t noticed the door close behind the other group. She pushed through the crowd and to the door, pushing it open and holding it for the giant - er - Jared. She wondered if he’d hit his head on the door frame. This Jared, friend of mime, was about to see things. She hoped he’d enjoy them as a fellow lover of mimes. 
“I’m not sure, Usually it’s by accident, but I could try and make something work.” He wondered briefly if he could get away with using his glamour to help spook the group, without his partner in crime noticing. It would be far easier to do some scarring in the name of the mimes if he could make himself look like he had stripes like some sort of angry chameleon. Jared ducked in the door that was held open for him, and it pulled shut behind him. The inside was dark, the windows were as they tended to be on small gingerbread house kits that you could buy at the store, the windows were painted on in icing rather than cut out. It was pitch black aside from the gaps around the edges where the icing hadn’t fully sealed the walls in place. The group were in the next room of the house whispering now that it was dark as humans tended to do, as if the dark was suppressing any noise. Using the quiet he mimicked one of his kids' cries as loud as he could just to start them off. The angry call of a bies sounded from his lungs abruptly and clearly for a singular second before cutting off to return to silence again.
The noise that came out of the giant’s mouth was absolutely brilliant. Loud. Jarring. Inhuman. No animal Nora could recognize. She gave one slight nod of approval. Maybe this stork, now nicknamed for being a giant bird and not just a giant, accidentally scared people more often than naught. Reaching inside herself, Nora lit the string of her magic. Her fingertip traced across the gingerbread walls as she walked. Icing started to coat her finger but she ignored it. Instead she concentrated on making the screeching noise of steel on steel. She’d seen it cause the hairs on people’s neck to rise. She hoped her cover of dragging her finger would be enough to fool new friend Jared. She’d claim it was a party trick or something. Damn, she really hated frosting. 
Jared extended his glamour past his usual skin cover to also alter his clothes just that little bit, the mime shirt was a little too telling after all. Instead he added stripes subtly in the darkness, only really put in place for his own peace of mind rather than for any impact. He hoped it was too dark for anyone to notice, so that he didn’t have to explain to Nora either. The noise she was making sent a chill up his spine as well for a half a second before he settled into it, it was easier knowing where it was coming from...sort of. He had no idea how she was doing it, but he was certain it was Nora doing it at the very least, no other way a gingerbread house could make that noise. The group were muttering to each other, clearly unsettled as they headed into the next room trying to find the backdoor to escape. Jared spotted a runner rug down the hallway, so he stooped to tug on it and send the last straggling person flying into the rest, holding back a snicker as they toppled like bowling pins.
Was the stork looking a little stripy or was it the shadows of the gingerbread house? It wasn’t very well lit. Probably because it was made out of ginger and not wood. Nora found herself wishing she bore the strips of those they came to protect. An illusion manifested itself across small patches of her clothes; black and white alliance patches. The group they’d followed in were becoming less of a snack and more of a meal. Nora took a deep inhalation in, enjoying the rewards of Jared’s carpet tug. They piled to the ground obviously scared of what was going to happen. “Where’s the exit?” One shouted. “I-I don’t know, I don’t see any. How can this place be this big?” Panic made their voice high pitched and frantic as they shouted over Nora’s noise. She let the noise fall, leaving them and their prey in a sudden silence. “Boo.” Her monotone was briefly followed by an illusion monster appearing behind them. Black and white stripes mime meets masked monster with a giant maw and sharp rows of teeth. It gurgled towards the fallen group. Slowly. Leaving a trail of stripes behind it as it went.
Jared was unaware that it was Nora that had created the mime monster, he himself had seen the mimes do some incredible stuff so he wasn’t put off at all. It was a mask of only a slight surprise, thinking that they might have stopped performing to aid in this situation for themselves. This is why when a striped goo seemed to seep in the cracks of the gingerbread house (to form into another more ‘traditional’ looking mime on the ceiling) he didn’t even flinch. This mime turned it’s head like it was an owl to look down at the monster curiously for a split second before scuttling down the wall towards the now scrambling pile of humans. Jared flattened himself against the wall of the gingerbread house and increased his glamor in the moment to look more like the mime that had appeared on the ceiling, although not able to move his head like it had. He didn’t have quite the same energy, but he tried his best. The group screamed and swore and scrambled past Nora and Jared being chased by both Nora's creation as well as the mime who had come to see what was happening, only to be delighted with its findings.
This scene was beautiful. Perfect. Picturesque. The gaggle of bullies trying to run away. The mime manifesting. The illusion chasing, gurgling, gnashing its giant teeth. Nora was almost satisfied with the scene and the meal but it was missing something. A soundtrack maybe? Oh. She had the music box. Maybe that would add some ambiance to the whole shindig. It took a minute to windup the old box. It popped open displaying a couple wrapped in each other's arms dancing an eternal waltz. The music began, gentle, haunting, almost mournfully and her eyes fixated on the waltzing couple. She was met with an absolute need to waltz. Carefully she placed down the music box and held her hand out to Jared’s, the silent question to dance. A question that only had one answer as everyone around them started waltzing together. The gaggle were screaming in terror now, practically drowning out the beautiful music. “Why are we dancing?” Why can’t we stop dancing?” “Why am I dancing with a mime?” 
The screaming had drowned out the ticking of the small music box winding up, so when the tune started Jared almost didn’t notice his body was moving towards music. Taking Nora’s hand they began to dance through no action of free will. The screaming did not die down, it seems the music was taking their movement alone, their voices would remain their own. Spinning around the room he was sort of delighted to have noticed that one of the group of humans had paired with a mime, who had turned its head all the way around again to watch the scene unfold in full rather than focus on it’s partner. “What kind of music box is that?” Jared asked Nora, his voice only faltering when her platform boots came down on his toes, yelling over the screams and panic of the humans with as wide a smile on his face as he could muster. Acting as is if the extra noise was only part of the song. He suspected magic, but he didn’t want to outright ask. 
“I do-” Nora had never been good at dancing, and despite the dance being magically pre-choreographed for them, that didn’t go away. “Oh sorry.” She mumbled. “I don’t know anything about the box.” Nora nodded at the mime as they twirled past the beautiful friend. “It was the reward I got for getting second place.” First place shouldn’t have won. Her art was masterful. Oh well. Beggars couldn’t be winners. But apparently second place could be dancers. “I wonder how long it lasts.” 
The screams and music could be heard by passing townsfolk for a while and they all ignored it, as was usual in white crest.
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toshis-puppycat · 4 years
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Hello Again Part Three
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A/n: Ahhh i have no excuse as to why it took me so long with writing, my inspiration was there with part four of Unfortunately but for this one it was *poof* 'I'm gone' and I'm very sorry about that but here is now! Also watch how the next part of this is gonna be short. I'll be embarrassed considering how long this one is lol. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy!!
Summary: You've missed about twenty years with Endeavor and All Might, that's so much to catch up on. Its exciting to see whats been going on! But well... there's always a negative isn't there?
Word Count: 7k (Jesus christ)
Part Three
You found out for sure that you missed about two decades with Toshi and Enji. Or well, you couldn't really call them that anymore. All Might and Endeavor. Their Hero Names. It was so trippy. All Might became the number one hero when he came back from America, which is when he found out you "died". You didn't even want to ask why he wasn't told sooner, hero work was tiresome in the states when he was over there. Endeavor was the number two hero. Now promoted to number one and he had children! And one of them was currently going to U.A. it was all so exciting! And the teachers here now were hilarious. Present Mic was obnoxiously loud, slightly reminded you of a Cockatiel which was kinda funny. Eraserhead or rather Aizawa Shouto was interesting, he was quiet, and seemed to be friends with Present Mic and he had a really fucking cool quirk, and God would it have been useful when you were younger. At that thought it was a little depressing, you missed everything. All those important life events for both Toshi and Enji and- You pushed the thought away, it was nicer to know the teachers you'd mainly be working with. Speaking of that there was one that scared the shit out of you. She was very open about herself, and really how would you say it? Sexy? Alluring? She was very flirty, seeing you look away all flustered apparently had become a favorite pass time of hers. But that didn't matter, because she was one of the first ones willing to jump at saying you could stay at U.A as a Teachers Assistant instead of just being a seemingly random civilian. Being apart of the faculty would be way easier, and with a push from a retired All Might backing you, along with the faculty at U.A itself you were allowed to stay. When you had to inform the parents you were a bundle of nerves. What if they didn't want you here? Was the only thought you had. But when you actually met them and then immediately drenched a pro-hero in water, not just any pro-hero, Endeavor your childhood friend. It was okay though, because one of the parents cackled and said she was completely fine having you stay. Her son apparently had a quirk called explosion which happened to deal with his sweat being able to well… explode, and he is a true hothead. Seeing Enji was jaring at the time but he was a father, his son is currently attending U.A. you didn't know why you were so surprised seeing him. Maybe you were still stuck on when youd last seen him? Falling from that He was just married when you left, and you'd recently found out he had children from All Might, so of course he would attend the meeting. Later when you finally settled for the night, you realized something. Toshi was refusing to be left alone with you the whole day, even when you were literally grabbing at him and trying to hold him. It left an unfamiliar feeling in your gut. You had gotten past some difficult things in your life already, just please let it be this once something would go right. Because despite you being thrown about 20 years into a future which was definatly exciting, you knew something would probably go wrong. You could always feel it, you speculated it was something from your quirk, too much good came with the bad. Healing, water manipulation, being able to turn into a literal mermaid, having your voice enchant people when you sing. There had to be some negative. With you there always was. You knew it was gonna hit you one way or another. No matter how much you hoped it wouldn't.
☆☆☆☆☆
You forgot what it was like having a nightmare. You moved on from your childhood as best as possible, having Enji's help along with having All Might made it so much easier when you were in your own time. You assumed that the only reason it was hitting you now was because you were thrown into the future. Despite the excitement, it was difficult for you to feel okay. You wished you could call Toshi or Enji. But Enji had to patrol tomorrow and Toshi already looked dead on his feet. Plus he was avoiding you, which you supposed was also kind of the trigger for you. That deep rooted worry that you had within yourself. One that always questioned whether or not you deserved to be No, no. Everything… everything would be okay. It had to be okay. It would hurt having it any other way.
☆☆☆☆☆
You decided the night before that you'd ask him, about his life. You had questions that needed answers but all that came out when you saw him was, "Did you ever get married, All Might?" It made sense to ask him sure, but just throwing it out there like some weirdo? But if he wasn't married he could be single. That was the only part your brain focused on. You knew he was a different man now, it would be impossible for him to have not changed in the time you've been gone, but you could still see the one you confessed to, the shocked red faced look, the first kiss... He was just so cute, and it didn't matter to you he was technically older, he made your heart race now just as much as he did then. It was like you were confessing all over again, the butterflies never left.
"No, y/n. I did not get married." He said, giving you a strange look. "Why?" 
"I was just curious." You said, but inside you felt giddy, all of your other questions were forgotten. Not married. For now at least.
☆☆☆☆☆
The next day you were going to work with Aizawa, and you were finally going to meet the newest batch of heros that were trying out for thir provisional license. And you were going to go with them, the principal Nezu had agreed with you when you brought up your concerns about being a hero again. And when you suggested that you take the exam as well, he was all for it. Especially since you'd said that your Hero License had expired years ago. You only missed the first fews day of their continued training, something about them missing the rest of their summer training camp because of a kidnapping, and it made U.A become a boarding school. This was good though, a good distraction.
"Uh Mr. Aizawa? Who's she?" A timid voice called out. It snapped you out of your train of thought. Aizawa gestured for you to introduce yourself. 
"Oh, hi! I'm y/n l/n." You smiled. "Sorry to just drop in on you guys. I'm going to be assisting Mr. Aizawa and the other teachers a part of the hero course from now on." You explained. 
"Why? We are already living on campus." A boy called out. He was a little… stiff, you just smiled at the class. 
"We thought it'd be best if I joined. Principle Nezu already introduced me to your parents." You said. 
"We need to be going now." Aizawa said. The class quickly stood up and began to follow, you lagged behind to make sure everyone could stay together. The student who asked who you were, the one who wondered why you were there and a young girl were in front of you.
"My apologies ma'am! I realized I may have insulted you" He exclaimed, you blinked in response to his excited demeanor. "My name is Tenya, Iida! And these are my fellow classmates Midoryia, Izuku and Ochaco, Uraraka!" He yelled. 
"Iida! You're startling her!" The girl, Ochaco exclaimed, she let out a sigh. "Sorry, he's just very excited that we're working on getting our license." She said. You smiled at the three. 
"We can talk more at gym gamma." You said, gently pushing the trio forward. And you all quickly made your way to the gym to practice. "I remember when I tried for the Provisional Hero License Exam." You stated, musing with the three teens. Midoryia's eyes lit up.
"You took the Provisional Hero Licenses Exam?" He questioned excitedly. You awkwardly smiled at him. 
"Yeah I did, they change it every year though-" you began but he cut you off in an excited tangent. You couldn't make out any of the beginning but you did hear the last part because he yelled it out in his excitement. 
"So that means you have a great quirk for hero work!" He yelled out, unfortunately you were already at the gym, and it echoed a little. You flinched a little, and saw Midnight making her way towards you. 
"Y/n! Come here!" She yelled at you. You gave the three students a polite but awkward goodbye and made your way over to the R-rated hero. "Its good that you came in with them! Getting all acquainted with the students." She purred out, you felt your face heat up in embarrassment. 
"Midnight please don't." Was all you managed to say. 
She gave you a look, then said "Its good you're getting acquainted with them because I have a favor to ask you."
You tilted your head at her. "A favor?"
"Yes! Now- I've already seen the proof so you can't deny it- I need you to do something for an assignment I'm going to be giving these kids." She said. You nodded hesitantly, encouraging her to continue, noticing a slight predatory look in her eye. Wait...proof of? Oh. Oh no. "I'm going to need you to perform a song in front of the class. I already know that voice of yours gets affected by your quirk when you sing so it'll throw'em off guard a little. Let them know that art is everywhere and its amplified by quirks. It'll be a good lesson." She says. You feel your eye twitch a little and sigh. She already knew you did something before, so why not. 
"Okay." You said. Then you started watching the students after they came out in their hero costumes. And they looked amazing! God these kids were going to be great heros, you could feel it. Working with these kids would be a trip.
☆☆☆☆☆
It was four days after you met these wonderful kids that it hit you. Why Toshinori wasn't interacting with you much. It started normally. Him walking in and talking to Aizawa as you happily made your way to the two. Midoryia excitedly told you about his costume upgrades earlier. Braces that were added to reduce the strain on his arms and knee pads that were extended up to his thighs. He was a smart kid, you were glad that he was able to figure out what he needed. You were watching Fumikage work on his special move, "Abyssal Black Body". Dark Shadow covered his form, God these kids were cool. 
"Some of them have finally solidified their fighting styles. And there are those already putting together multiple special moves." Aizawa said, you saw All Might walk towards the area the angry blonde was in, Bakugou. You learned his name quickly a few days prior. You saw him do a form of his special move and at the time you didn't know his name and yelled out the only one you'd heard, which was from Izuku. 
"Good job, Kachaan!" You screamed out, the blonde turned to you furiously, glaring at you.
"Oi, hag don't fucking call me that!" He called out. Four of his classmates were howling with laughter before one of them called out to you and told you that he preferred to be called Bakugou. And apparently you were lucky, because despite being a part of the staff he would've hit you with his quirk if he was angry enough. Explosion. Ah, his mother told you about him when you'd met. You apologized to the snarling blonde, but not before taking away some of his sweat in response. 
"Listen Bakugou, I'm sorry I called you the only name I've heard so far. It won't happen again." You said. It left him sputtering in response at the lack of his quirk. He scowled at you after noticing you essentially holding the sweat away from him. It held no malice though, you could tell that. He was just frustrated most likely, you knew he was the one that was kidnapped. He could probably be scared too. You pushed the thoughts away. You'd ask Aizawa about it later.
You saw him curl one hand into a small circle, and place it in front of his other hand then a bright blast came through, his special move. It blasted a hole through the obstacle that he was practicing on, and you saw it crumble a bit as he screamed about how he did it in excitement. Pure happiness was coming off him in waves. Despite his grouch attitude, you felt yourself smiling. 
"No surprise that young Bakugou is doing well. As usual." You heard All Might say. The wall behind him was crumbling, you saw it and you felt your body moving forward on its own before you knew it, hearing a faint call from Bakugou for All Might to watch out. He was going to get hurt. Toshinori was going to get hurt. Water quickly flowed towards him, to keep him protected from the large rock falling towards him when you saw him. Izuku came in out of nowhere, green lightning surrounding his form as he twisted his body to kick. You saw All Mights face in that moment. An impressed, proud smile on his face that made your heart seize on itself. Like a father looking at his son. Izuku yelled a resounding "Smash!" You felt everything shatter in that moment. 
"You did it kid." All Might said, you weren't sure if Aizawa heard that. But Izuku did, he was smiling widely at him. 
"Hey Aizawa, I completely spaced out on telling Principle Nezu something!" You could hear yourself call out, your cheeks were hurting a bit. You could vaguely feel it and you could barely hear Bakugou calling out to All Might to "watch himself". Aizawa nodded at you, and you made your way to the exit. Toshinori gave you an odd look, before offering to walk you. You gave him a tight lipped smile, and said "Nah, you wanted to watch these kids! I'll get to him safely." You were glad that you didn't have any water surrounding you at the moment. It made it hard to be ignored like you were right now. You asked him if he ever married anyone. You didn't ask if he had any children. And somehow, even though he wasn't with anyone now. It felt like a punch to the gut. He didn't tell you he moved on and had a child. You avoided being near him after that.
☆☆☆☆☆
That night you had to make sure that the girls would be getting ready for bed. You walked towards the common room area and heard a student, you think is Asui "Its not good to force an investigation."
"She's right. More importantly, it's late. We should call it a night." You heard another say, Yaoyorozu you saw her stand up.
The pink girl, Ashido looked absolutely outraged for a moment, and then you noticed Ochaco floating in the air. Hearing Ashido say "Ugh! No! I wanna hear everything!" Made you look at the group that still had their gravity, they were a cute bunch.
"Girls, its getting late. You should be heading to bed now." You said. It shocked all of them into looking in your direction. 
"Ah, yes Y/n sensei!" Yaoyorozu said. You chuckled at the still obvious pout Ashido was giving.
"Ashido, I hope you're not too focused on romance right now. First worry about getting your hero license, then you can worry about romance." You said. She smiled brightly at you. 
"Wait y/n sensei, do you like someone?" She asks. You give an awkward look. But she looked so hopeful you'd say something. 
"Yes, Ashido. But look at that time! You all need to be getting sleep!" You cheered, she pouted again. But she seemed to accept it, the group started walking away.
These kids… are going to be great heros. You looked out the window, and saw Midoryia perfecting his movements, and you felt a small sad smile come up. I'm… I'm really glad he has a son like you Midoryia. You thought, feeling a treacherous tear coming down your cheek and furiously wiped it away. Thankfully, the girls already left for their rooms. Now, you just had to make sure he came in to sleep.
☆☆☆☆☆
Before anyone knew it the day of the exam was here. You went with the class on the bus with your own bag, getting shocked stairs from the students. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled. "What? You think I'm here for moral support? All that practice I did with all of you and you thought I'd just be here as a moral boost?" Only two people didn't jump out of their seats in excitement,  one being Bakugou, which you expected. The other being Todoroki, you figured one didn't care and the other understood you from before. You'd told the class the day before about your previous connections but you guess it didn't click for them that you'd want to be a hero again. 
"Oh man do I have stories about my time here." You said, the students were looking at you eagerly. "It was the first sparing session we had after our internship, and I threw Endeavor on his ass. It was glorious. He was so shocked I did it and it was fueled by pure spite." You explained, Todoroki gave an interesting expression to that. "When our first sparing session happened though it was my favorite, that man really almost lit the surrounding area on fire and I just drenched him in water. He was a lot less everything then he is now, so he kinda looked like a wet rat. Again, glorious moment." You said to the class, they all laughed. It was a good moment with them. 
You noticed that you made it to the building for the test and shook away the memories and just felt excitement. The test was different every year! You couldn't wait to see what they came up with this time around! You could hear the student's mixed reactions, to the few saying they felt nervous to the others saying "I wonder what they're gonna make us do." You sighed, this was going to be fun. 
"If you can pass this test and get your provisional license, then you novice eggs will hatch into chicks. You'll be semi-pros. I expect your best." You heard Aizawa say. "And you," he started turning towards you. "You've done this before. Don't fail."he finished. You beamed at him.
"Don't worry Aizawa! I got this!" You said, voice full of cheer. You could ignore what you learned before, just for today. You could hear Kirishima call out to the class to say their signature catch phrase "Plus Ultra!" When another student caught everyone off guard. Even you jumped a little in response to his enthusiastic "Ultra!" Todoroki only startled a little, recognition barely in his eyes at the other boy.
"Y'know, its pretty rude to barge into other people's huddles like that, Inasa." You heard his classmate say.
"What? Pardon me." He began, body immediately bending forwards in a violent enough manner that he literally bashed his head on the ground. "I am so… very… extremely… sorry!" He yelled. You winced, as Izuku yelled in surprise. 
"Who is this guy? I do not trust his enthusiasm." You heard Kaminari say in panic, you quickly made your way to the other student. Barely paying attention to Aizawa and the others as they recognized the uniforms from the other school. Shiketsu. The school in the western part of Japan. 
"I wanted to say it just once. Plus Ultra!" He yelled, quickly standing tall. "See, I really love UA High School. I am extremely honored to compete against such incredible students. I'm so looking forward to it." He exclaimed, his forehead was bleeding. You ignored Aizawa explaining who he was. Only hearing his name, Inasa Yoarashi.
"Do you need me to heal you, Yoarashi?" You asked him, voice quiet. He looked startled for a moment before some flicker of recognition was in his eyes.
"Its you! Pro-hero Siren!" He yelled out. You winced at the amount of blood that came pouring out from his wound. You didn't bother trying to ignore the other students shock at the name, you registered Kirishima stating your name was so manly. Other than Yoarashi, only Izuku knew who you were it seemed, and he was muttering to himself that he should have known that's who you were. The others were just grateful knowing your hero name it seemed.
"That I did. Now you should get going. Your classmates are waiting." You said calmly. He walked off after thanking you and your students clamored around you.
"Wait, you worked with Todoroki's father? Like, as in not just at UA?" Ashido asked.
"Yes, but it's been, give or take 20 years since I've worked with him. It was decided that I need to re-earn my hero license in order to do hero work." You said, you didn't actually explain you worked with Endeavor. Just that you worked with a now, well known flame hero in school. You heard Kirishima mutter something about "being manly" again and felt very fond all of a sudden, the whole manly spirit reminded you of the man you interned under. "Kirishima, do you happen to be a fan of Crimson Riot?" You asked, and his face lit up.
"Yeah! He's my hero! My name is kinda inspired by his too!" He exclaimed, but another voice interrupted the conversation.
"Eraser?" You heard a voice call out, Aizawa flinched at it. "I'd know that scowl anywhere!" You looked over to see a light green haired woman, smiling and waving, walking over to the class, mainly Aizawa though. "I saw you on TV at the Sports Festival. But its been a while since we were this close in person." She said, Aizawas eye twitched in annoyance. 
"She looks familiar." You heard Izuku say.
"Let's get married." The woman says smiling and gesturing between herself and Aizawa. 
"No." Deadpan expression and all. You hear Ashido squeak in disappointment, and can practically see the little hearts around her break. 
The woman bent over laughing in joy and say, "Ha, ha! You're a real laugh-riot, buddy." 
"As usual, you're impossible, Joke." Aizawa said, as the woman continued laughing. 
Izuku exclaimed in surprise, "Oh, thats Ms. Joke! The smile hero! Her quirk is outburst!" He had a wide smile on his face, and you had to look away for a second. He was quite literally the physical embodiment of sunshine. Just like someone else you knew. You could hear him explain her quirk and it made you snap out of your revere. "She forces people around her to laugh, which affects their ability to think and keeps them from being able to move. Her fights against villains are always full of insanity!" He exclaimed.
"Come on, imagine it! If I was your wife, you'd have a future full of constant laughter." She said.
"That sounds like an actual nightmare." Aizawa stated, she burst out laughing again. As the class contemplated their closeness, she gave an explanation, "Our agencies were near each other. As young heros striving to make a difference in the world, a mutual love bloomed." She said, clasping her hands together and blushing. 
"No, it didn't." Ouch, instant rejection. But she didn't seem to notice it.
"I do miss your quick retorts." She said, pointing at him before placing her hands on her hips and continuing, "You're my favorite person to tease, future husband." She smiled, Aizawa closed his eyes.
"So, Joke. If you're here, then that must mean…"
"That's right. Over here, everyone. This is UA." She called out to a class just behind her.
One student exclaimed in fake wonder at the students and you as the others were genuinely happy.
"Oh, whoa. It really is Class A!" 
"Wow, that's so amazing. I've seen them on TV before." 
"Second years from Ketsubutsu Academy. This is Class 2. They're my students." She said happily. 
You saw a student of hers grab Izuku's hand. "Hey, I'm Shindo! Seems like UA's has a lotta trouble this year, musta been tough for you." He said, smiling. 
"Uh, yeah." Izuku awkwardly said, Shindo moved on, grasping the other student's hands and continued. 
"But even so, you're all still aiming to become pro-heros, despite those hardships. It's wonderful! Hearts full of fortitude." He said, smiling, looking like the perfect pretty boy image. "I believe that's whatever hero in the world needs to have." He was sparkling and you saw some of the girls in the class begin to fawn over him a little. You could practically hear Izuku think that this kid was "too nice" nope. "And Bakugou. It must've been hard for you, what with that whole kidnapping incident." You did a double take at that. It didnt matter that you already knew he was kidnapped, it was still jaring.
"Huh?" Bakugou responded.
"You have an especially strong will, don't you? Today, I'm going to do my best to learn from you. I really hope you don't mind." He said, attempting to shake his hand. Bakugou slapped it away.
"Stop pretending. What you say doesn't match the look in your eyes." He said, turning away from the other boy. You saw that flash of anger in the other students eyes. Good. Bakugou could see it, a valuable skill. 
"Hey, man, don't be so rude!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Sorry, he's just like that." He finished, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head and looking bashful. 
"Its fine. It proves how tough his heart is." Shindo said, Bakugou scoffed at that. Another classmate of his ran up to Todoroki, asking for his autograph, to which he said, 
"Uhh…"
Another student just told her to stop fangirling. Minoru said hed be happy to sign something for the girl, she ignored him. A good idea.
"Hey. Get your costumes and head to orientation. There's no time to waste." Aizawa said, a resounding "yes, sir" from the class made you follow close behind him, holding your bag close. You heard Kaminari brag about being apart of a famous elite school, and winced. Man, did this kid forget everyone knew their quirks and they didn't know anything about anyone else? You all quickly made your way inside and changed. It was time for the exam. 
☆☆☆☆☆
You heard a groan, then "Okay then. Let's do this exam thing. I'm from, uh, the Heroes Public Safety Commission. Name's Mera. My Circadian Rhythm is so screwed up." He moaned out. "Ah, man." Damn he looked dead on his feet. "I've been swamped lately and I haven't gotten much rest. We're too short staffed. I'm so tired." He said, laying his head on his hand. "With that confession. I'll now begin orientation." You looked over at the students. Midoryia, Tenya and Ochaco looked a little worried for the man. Probably thinking he needs a break. "So, about the content of this license thing. Basically 1,540 examinees compete in a free-for-all exercise or whatever we're calling it this year." Mera said. You could hear Hanta complaining about the lack of information. But Mera continued, "See. We've got a lot of pros around, and since Stain was arrested, many people've expressed doubts about the status of heros in society." You winced, vaguely recalling what Toshinori told you about Stain's convictions before you started avoiding him. "But, when you really think about it, getting paid makes sense. If you're going to risk your life to save someone, why shouldn't you ask for a reward, huh? That's just the way the world works. God, I could use a coffee. Anyway, whether they're in it for compensation or out of a sense of duty, we've got too many beros working together in the streets these days to keep villains at bay. Honestly, the time between an incident begins and when it's resolved is ridiculously short. You are all here trying to receive your provisional licenses, minus one, who is renewing theirs. So you'll be swept up in this tiresome mess yourselves pretty soon." Almost everyone startled at the "minus one" part of his speech, the exception being the students of class 1-A along with Yoarashi, you almost groaned. "Those of you who don't have the speed, frankly, just won't cut it." He said looking down. "Which is why that's what you'll be tested on." He said looking up at the crowd. A board flashed on behind him showing 'Number to Pass 1st Test: 100 people' "The first 100 students to fulfill the requirements will pass today." You could hear Yaoyorozu exclaim how many students there currently were. You could feel their nervousness now. 
"You will do great. Don't panic about it." You said, voice quiet out of respect for Mera. They all looked over at you. You gave them a reassuring smile. "I believe in you guys."
"Well, the world can be pretty crappy. I suppose I should say something about luck." Mera said, still slouched over but standing. "So, anyway, here are the basic rules." He showed the everyone how the first test would proceed, explaining how you all would put on targets and they would have to be in an exposed area, and said each participant would have six balls made for this task so they could strike out the opponents. If all three targets are hit, they'd be out and to pass they had to take out two people. They passed out the materials and opened the arena. Talking about how they were sure that they all had an area where their quirks would work best. You looked over to the stands and saw Aizawa sitting with Ms. Joke. He looked so agitated, unfortunate for him. You quickly put on the three targets and grabbed your six balls. You weren't going to fail this. It simply wasn't an option. 
"Everyone!" Izuku exclaimed, "Stay close together. We'll fight them as a group." Ochaco nodded and Tenya said "got it." You smiled. Good. These kids would do fine. Bakugou left immediately, Kirishima and Kaminari running behind him. 
"I'm going on my own, too." Todoroki said. "Its hard for me to use my power safely when a big group's around." He ran off. Izuku quickly attempting to dissuade him. But you quickly followed behind him.
"Don't worry kids. I got him. He'll be fine!" You yelled, quickly catching up to the duel haired boy. "Todoroki! I can help you with controlling your fire!" You called out. He kept running ahead. "I know you might have a problem with me Todoroki, but I can help a little with your fire." You said, he slowed down to a stop, enough for you to catch up. He gave you an odd look.
"Water quirk, correct?" He asked. 
"Yes." 
"Thank you. For offering, I'll accept for now." He said. And you both began running again. Quickly coming to a steel labyrinth like arena. 
"So Todoroki, whats it like being related to that old man?" You asked, he startled, gave you a deadpan expression.
"Terrible." Was all he said in response, but it was the look in his eye that made you falter. You'd seen a look like that before. On Endeavor's face when you were young, and on your own before you were able to leave your own home situation. You didn’t joke with him about it again. Before either of you knew it, you both could hear that over 50 students have already passed and that 50 failed. It forced the two of you to move into action quickly. You two ran from the hiding spot you were in. 
"Todoroki look out!" You yelled, he quickly blocked the ball that was thrown at him, you did the same for the one thrown at you. Quickly slowing it down with water around you. 
"That was pretty good!" A student yelled, they were from Seijin. "Just what I'd expect from a runner-up of the UA Sports Festival. Not sure what to expect from you though." He said gesturing to you. Ten students, more than enough for the two of you. "The name's Todoroki, right?" He asked looking at the younger boy. You narrowed your eyes. "I can't believe you two are running around here like this, all by yourselves. You both must be really confident."
"Even if you both are from UA High, acting like this is just asking for trouble." Another student says.
"A ten-on-two fight. You two don't stand a chance!" Another yells out. You gave a look to Todoroki. 
"This is great." He said, turning to you. "Now we don't have to find opponents." He turned slightly and raised his right arm over to his face. You turned as well, left arm protecting your own face. 
The main Seijin student chucked. "Aren't you two cool." He says, then all of them are rushing you, balls flying in your direction. Todoroki uses the ice aspect of his quirk to block them while you do the same with your water. Then he quickly freezes their feet to the ground, also using the extra water you provided from your quirk. The other students gasp. Quickly exclaiming their outrage at being unable to move.
"You're surprised? I thought you said you watched the sports festival." Todoroki said, you smirked. 
"I am kind of an unknown though, Todoroki. They didn't know you could use my water." You said. The students were obviously scowling at you two, glaring. 
"Don't be cocky, were prepared!" The leader exclaimed, throwing something at you two, it quickly grew in size and you used your quirk to help Todoroki block the now giant object. You two gave each other a look. 'A quirk that makes things bigger.' "That's not all I brought with me!" He yelled again, throwing more objects. Todoroki's ice seemed to be at least a little stronger as you provided more water for him. You could see him question himself for a moment, contemplating. He turned to give you a look that said "wait to see if there are more." You nodded at him. Then the ice cover shattered, and you both saw a projectile coming toward you. He quickly fired at it, but it didn't stop. You were able to move him and yourself out of the way. The other student quickly escaped the ice trap Todoroki put him in. "Your fire won't work against any of my tools. Tungsten has a super-high melting point!" He yelled out, quickly throwing smaller projectiles at the feet of his allies. "I'm afraid I told you so, Todoroki. And you. Even if you two are the top UA students, if you think you can pass this exam with such a little group… Well, then, your pride will be your downfalls." He said, staring the two of you down.
"You fools." Todoroki said quickly aiming fire at the group. 
"Do it!" The other student yelled, two others jumped up and aimed at you two. Water based quirks, damn. You quickly created a barrier between you two using the water they provided to strengthen the flow covering you and Todoroki. You two jumped out of the way at the projectiles being thrown. "Keep attacking. Don't let up!" He yelled again. You two manage to get away, as steam filled the area as his flames met the water of the other students. You were both running, and he turned towards you.
"The Heroes Public Safety Commission must have constructed this factory to be as realistic as possible." He said. You nodded at him.
"Its why they told us to choose a terrain that would suit our style." You responded. He nodded in agreement. Then quickly held a flame. You two were on the same page then. You could hear the other student yell that you were found and to be surround by his allies. Todoroki quickly bend down, placing his palm on the ground and creating ice shards upwards towards a tank, he burst it and you two quickly made your way to a higher point and saw the other students shocked faces. Todoroki then aimed at the tank with ice piercing it and proceeded to light it on fire, as you two hid behind an ice barrier he created to not be blown away as the other screamed. 
"Well it looks like the commission kept the force of the explosion from being too damaging." Todoroki said as you two came out from the smoke. 
"You bastards."
"Apologies. But I simply cannot afford to fail." Todoroki said. You nodded in agreement.
"I really do wanna get back to hero work." You said simply. Their eyes widened.
"Its you! You're the one thats not just getting your provisional license!" One of them shouted, you smiled. 
"Yeah, I wish he didn't say that but it's alright." You said, grabbing a ball walking over to one of the other students quickly catching at least three of the students. "I believe you guys will be great heroes though. You all have got some seriously strong quirks!" You exclaimed as Todoroki quickly got his own points. "Just make sure to plan for something like that, just in case." You called out. Walking away with Todoroki. You could tell he was contemplating his quirk, probably thinking he should work to using both at once with more ease. You heard a beep and looked down at the area you put the targets.
"Students who have passed the exam should congregate in the anteroom. Chop, chop." The announcers' voice yelled out. You two quickly made your way to the waiting area. You saw the excitable student from earlier look over when you and Todoroki walked in. Though he was focusing more on Todoroki, you saw him glaring. It almost shocked you, but you already assumed from the look he gave earlier, that he didn't like Todoroki at all. You looked at the younger duel haired boy. 
"So Todoroki, the problem?" You asked, he looked slightly shocked. 
"You know the problem." He stated simply, you shot him a confused look.
"I obviously don't. If its something from before, I haven't been here for around 20 years, kid. It's kind of hard to keep up with grievances if I wasn't there." You said. He gave you a steady gaze. 
"My father, was not good to me. Nor to my siblings. I… don't wish to blame you. He's not a good man. But hearing you speak about him in such a manner. It's insulting to hear you say he's a good man." He states, he looks frustrated for a moment and you feel your heart soften,.
"Todoroki… the man that I knew, he was a good man. And if he's been acting like that..." You began, placing your hand on his shoulder before sighing, "We can have a further discussion after the exam about this, it'll be easier." He nodded in response.
"I'll be waiting then." He said. You gave your own nod before walking away, you really needed to rehydrate and eat something. This was going to be a long exam. 
☆☆☆☆☆
You found out all the students from Class 1-A passed when you met up with them. Exclaiming your own pride at the students. They all grinned widely. "I'm proud of you kids!" You said. Izuku, Kaminari and Minoru were talking to each other. 
"Oh, right. For the 100 of you who passed the first test, please turn your attention to the screen." You heard Mera say from the speakers. Everyone turned to face the screen. It showed different parts of the arena being destroyed. They all gasped in shock. "There's only one more round to the exam. Your goal is simple: undertake rescue exercises and save the bystanders who are trapped in these disaster sites."
"A rescue mission." Izuku says, his eyes taking on a determined look. You tried to ignore it. But he really did remind you of Toshinori in that moment, and you felt the sharp sting in your heart. Damn it. Ignore for now. You thought. He moved on, what did you expect after being gone for over 20 years? You shot another look in his direction. Izuku's mother… was a very lucky woman. 
"Use this time to show us how you will carry out successful rescue procedures once you receive your provisional licenses, again minus the one renewing theirs." He continued. "Treat this as though it were the real thing."
The students looking at the screen suddenly looked very shocked. 
"On the screen."
A gasp, "Little kids and old people?"
"That's so dangerous- why are they here?" 
Mera continued on, "These specialists have been trained as profesional "persons in need of rescue" they're very popular. Introducing the "Help Us Company," also known as HUC for short."
"So they're basically actors, I guess?" Sero questioned. You looked over and nodded in affirmation. 
"Its the kind of job you never think about." Tsuyu says.
"But a necessary one in our world, since they support our hero training." Mashirao finishes. You smiled. These kids… God how many times would you think this? They were going to be great heroes. 
"The HUC bystanders have dressed up like injured victims and will be located throughout the disaster site. We'll be judging how well you keep them safe as you go about your mission. Oh, by the way. We'll be scoring you on a point system. If you gave more points than the benchmark at the time the exercise comes to an end, then you pass the exam. We'll start in 10 minutes. Take care of any necessary preparations now." Mera finished. You could barely hear the conversation between Izuku and Tenya, them comparing the damage being shown to the one in Kamino Ward. Where All Might fought All for One for the last time. You didn’t know much about All for One, all you knew was that he was the one to send the villain that attacked that day, that he planned your demise. It was confusing though. Why did he want to kill you? At the time he was nothing more than the boogeyman of the hero world. You had no connection to him prior to that besides Toshinori, but even then no real reason to kill you. Maybe I should meet with that detective that found me after this.' You thought. 'I've been putting it off too long already. I'm going to find you Kotaro. I'm sorry I took so long.
☆☆☆☆☆
The exam was exhausting, way more exhausting than you remembered. But you supposed that was because you were bordering on being sleep deprived and running on nothing but your own willpower. And maybe a little spite but you're not really sure where that could be from so you just ignore it. You saw the students of U.A. interact with the other top school, you interacted with a rather... interesting young girl from there as well. Apparently she talked with Izuku and well Minoru and Kaminari didn't like that for some odd reason, neither did Uraraka but you could see why at this point. Her crush, was rather cute. As the test continued on you only felt pride, these students. They were doing well, saving the civilians from the wreckage, although Izuku no Deku had experienced a little speed bump in the beginning. You offered your healing expertise with the triage area, assessing the 'injuries' of the HUC. Then they threw all of them in for a loop. Villains. Not real ones of course but acting Villains. You quickly ensured that the others were able to collect the supplies and 'victims', following Shindo and quickly dealing with the sidekicks. But then you saw Gang Orca, the screech was jarring, it made you unsteady. So, you couldn't imagine how Shindo was feeling. He must have been paralyzed because you couldn't see him moving, he looked like he was knocked out too. You heard Deku yell out Todoroki's name and felt some relief, Gang Orca needed to stay well hydrated and Todoroki's quirk was perfect for this fight to dry him out. Then you saw the other students Ashido,Ojiro, and Tokoyami. You were glad for the extra help, but then you felt the wind pick up in the area.
"I'm gonna blow you evildoers away!" You heard Yoarashi yell.
It didn't matter at the moment, you had to evacuate these people from the area, you had to protect them.
☆☆☆☆☆
Taglist: @saratour, @yukiimanic, @theygottheircages, @itsallmightbitch, @toobsessedsstuff, @quirkyfandoms, @anxious-cat-with-cheesesticks, @traqicalromance, @waitwhatsrealityagain
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unibrowzz · 4 years
Text
Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part VII (FINALE)- The 2010s
And we’re on the home stretch! Just 10 songs left now.
The 2010s stands as the only decade I watched live and the only decade I haven’t yet rewatched, mainly because I have no interest to. I’ve already seen the contest anyway, if a song didn’t stick with me then, it probably won’t now.
Also prepare for some hotter than usual takes, mostly down to the 10s contests being the most well known due to recency bias. I can say whatever the Hell I want about older contests and what songs I despise from there, but one non-positive comment about Euphoria and suddenly about five butthurt anons appear in my inbox telling me why I’m wrong.
But without further ado, let’s finish these off!
2010: Satellite
Country: Germany
Artist: Lena Meyer-Landrut
Language: English
Thoughts: I used to defend this song a lot, for some reason. I used to get super defensive when people dismissed it as a cheap lazy pop song that shouldn’t have won over (insert song here, but let’s be real here, 99% of the time it’s Turkey's equally cheap lazy emo rock song) and that it robbed so many better entries, blah blah, you know the drill. And I think it’s because it was the first winner I saw as I started properly watching in 2010, so I didn’t want to shit all over the winner that introduced me to the contest. Or maybe it’s that it makes me really nostalgic, or something to that effect. But, dear God, why did I? It’s so… not worth it. I appreciate it for being a much less instrumental-heavy winner, with its skippy, snappy beat and bouncing vocals which sound closer to plain talking than actual singing, but… How many times were the lyrics ran through GoogleTranslate before they were finalised? What’s with the janky, overexaggerated fake-English accent? Why does the singer look embarrassed to be a part of this? Why was this written?  And how the FUCK did it win? It’s so weird and awkward to listen to. It’s the song equivalent of trying to make small talk with that one classmate you never talk to because they’re shy and boring. It’s like listening to an old person laugh half-heartedly at their not-that-funny old person joke. It’s canned laughter in a mediocre sitcom. It’s just an awkward, painful to listen to song that’s made all the more painful by the fact that Germany has sent much better songs that easily could have replaced this as their one post-reunification winner.
Was this my personal winner for this year? No
If no, what was? Spain- Daniel Diges- “Algo Pequeñito”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 60th
2011: Running Scared 
Country: Azerbaijan
Artist: Ell and Niki 
Language: English
Thoughts: Look, this one isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. Doesn’t mean it’s good, or that I find it particularly good, but the worst winner of all time? Goodness no, it doesn't even come remotely close. What we have here is a mildly pleasant ballad duet song with a distinctive sad-boyband vibe. Like you can definitely hear the “X-Factor winner’s first cover song” energy just radiating off it from the first few lines. I suppose you could argue that that does make it feel a bit clinical and like it’s trying too hard to be a big hit, but come on, it’s not like this is the first winner like that. The singing is alright; better than half the singing that won in the 2000s anyway, and the male singer especially has a nice voice. The lyrics aren’t exactly poetry, sure, but again, other winners have terrible lyrics as well and don’t receive nearly as much hate as this one does. And… that’s it. Why all the hate? No idea, but I can only assume the people who declare this song to be the worst winner ever haven’t heard anything that won before 2010.
Was this my personal winner for this year? No
If no, what was? Denmark- A Friend in London- “New Tomorrow”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 42nd
2012: Euphoria
Country: Sweden
Artist: Loreen
Language: English
Thoughts: Ugh. Listen. This is not a bad song. It’s decent, middle of the table, listenable, marketable, well sung, well performed, well shot. I must stress, this is not a bad song. But the best Eurovision song of all time? Absolutely not. Euphoria is one of the few winners I would describe as “overrated”, and that isn’t a term I use lightly (since it’s overused as Hell), because frankly, I don’t see what people see in this song. Hell, I forgot it completely until the 2012 voting, and further still until mid 2013 when a friend said he liked it. This song left that little of an impression on me that I completely forgot everything about it for a solid year.  And considering how many fans regard this to be one of the best, if not the best song to ever come out of the contest... that baffles me, I just can’t wrap my head around why so many people hold this song up on a pedestal and worship it like it was dropped from the hands of God himself. And I'm not sure if it's because this just isn't a genre I care about, or if it's because this was WAY back when I was a casual fan who didn't follow any of the songs or artists so didn't know who'd be the favourite going in like I do now, and therefore didn’t know to keep an ear out for this one. Or maybe you have to be piss drunk and at a nightclub to really feel the impact of this song. This song triggers absolutely no response from me other than “Oh, a Eurovision song”. I feel no emotion towards it aside from complete indifference. I can’t deny that this song made an impact, it just… didn’t make an impact on me.
Is this my personal winner for this year? No
If no, what is? Spain- Pastora Soler- “Quedate Conmigo”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 40th
2013: Only Teardrops
Country: Denmark
Artist: Emmelie de Forest
Language: English
Thoughts: Let me ask you a question: What do you get when you sandwich an otherwise decent pop song between two of the most iconic and recognizable winners of the decade? You get this. Only Teardrops is a weird, weird winner to me. On one hand, the fandom acts like it might as well not exist, you go straight from Euphoria to Rise Like a Phoenix, who cares about that filler song which came between them. On the other hand, I know a lot of people who really like it, yet all of them are either very casual fans or not fans at all. So this makes me feel like this song’s main weakness is that it’s too mainstream, at least for Eurovision fans. What are my thoughts? It depends. For one, I enjoy this song a LOT more than Euphoria; I always have done and I’m not ashamed or afraid to admit that. I find this song has a lot more personal appeal, particularly a much bigger finale in my opinion, and being surrounded by people who like this song has admittedly kept me fond of it. BUT, I still wouldn’t necessarily call it a favourite of mine. Maybe a favourite of the 2010s, but not overall. At the end of the day, it’s a little too generic, a little too normal, a little too like every other song you’d hear on the radio. It’s not really a song I find myself coming back to again and again and loving every time, it’s the song I stick on to shut my family up when they want to listen to Eurovision music and I’m too shy to show them the songs I actually really like. It's just a decent song that's unfortunate enough to be stuck in between two more iconic winners, doomed to be little more than the answer in a pub quiz question.  And even though I do prefer this one to some of those icons, and don’t really have anything else to say about it, it’s just enjoyable yet kind of bland.
Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Iceland
If no, what is? Iceland- Eyþór Gunnlaugsson- “Ég á Líf”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 16th
2014: Rise Like a Phoenix
Country: Austria
Artist: Conchita Wurst
Language: English
Thoughts: Ah yes, the man who made the entire continent of Europe collectively forget what a drag queen is. What a shitshow that night was. But I'm not here to talk about that, I'm here to rate/say some things about the song, and honestly? This is arguably the most vocally impressive winner from the 2010s. Seriously, there’s nothing I can fault here; this guy’s got some serious pipes. Every time I go back to it I just end up blown away by how powerful and raw this song is. And obviously good vocals alone can’t carry a song forever, otherwise I would’ve had nicer things to say about the early 70s and mid 90s, but with this song the vocals go hand-in-hand with the gimmick. Without the powerful vocals this would just be a knockoff Bond theme sung by a drag queen with a beard, like it’d just be another sensationalist gimmick song to throw onto the pile with all the other gimmick songs. But with the good singing, this has the distinction that it’s a gimmick entry that still had every right to win because the singer was actually competent. Also unlike the 70s winners this one actually has strong emotions tied to it rather than it just being a bunch of pretty French words, so there’s that.
Is this my personal winner for this year? This or the Netherlands tbh
If no, what is? N/A
Personal ranking (out of 67): 17th
2015: Heroes
Country: Sweden
Artist: Måns Zelmerlöw 
Language: English 
Thoughts: Fun fact: I was so bitter this won that I stormed off before the voting was done and cried in my room over it. I hated everything about this song: I hated how Sweden won just three years after their last win, I hated how the staging was just BEGGING people to vote for it, and I ESPECIALLY hated how it beat out the televote favourite because the juries were too busy wanking off to this one to care about anything else. I just despised everything about this song, and it turned me into an obnoxious jury-hater for a solid year.  And yes, I'm extremely embarrassed of all that because honestly this song is fantastic. I would go as far to say it's my favourite Swedish winner, maybe not one of my favourite Swedish entries but definitely my favourite winner of theirs. Everything about this is just so appealing to me, from the brooding intro and vocals, to the lyrics, to the staging, my GOD the staging! It’s one of the best performances of the contest to date; It's impressive without being tacky or try-hard, he interacts with his background, and that little doodle boy character he’s created is adorable. I just love this performance, it’s so mesmerising.
Was this my personal winner for this year? Not then, is now
If no, what was? Then? Serbia- Bojana Stamenov- “Beauty Never Lies”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 11th
2016: 1944
Country: Ukraine
Artist: Jamala
Language: English, some Crimean words
Thoughts: I mean… it’s good until she starts singing. Now I am by all means not an advocate for bringing back the old language rule, but songs like this sure as Hell make me one. This should have been left entirely in Crimean. Simple as that. The English lyrics are bloody awful, no way to sugarcoat it, and absolutely annihilate the potential this song is otherwise seething with, because the instrumental to this song is fantastic and the chorus and climax give me goosebumps. The performance at the contest was chilling as well; a perfect blend of both simple yet flashy staging to set up a really uneasy atmosphere that compliments the song perfectly but, God, the lyrics are bad, man, especially for such a serious song about a personal topic.  That said, it's still the only song in the 2016 top 3 that seemed winner-worthy, unlike Australia's obvious Jurybait and Russia's obvious Telebait. So… it has that. 
Was this my personal winner for this year? No
If no, what was? France- Amir Haddad- “J’ai Cherché”
Personal ranking (out of 67): 57th
2017: Amar Pelos Dois 
Country: Portugal 
Artist: Salvador Sobral 
Language: Portuguese (Translation: “Both of us”)
Thoughts: I still question why it took Portugal until 20-fucking-17 to even reach the top five, but that's a rant for another day.  Not that this is a rant, far from it. Anybody who knows me knows that I love this song after all, and that it’s one of the few winners I remain rather defensive of, though that’s mostly down to the amount of hate this song and its singer receive.  I will defend Sal and his hot takes on pop music until I die. Now I’ll admit, this song surprised me in more ways than one. Namely by actually winning the televote; given how this song has split opinions clean down the board as to whether it’s spine-tinglingly beautiful or soul-crushingly boring, I was expecting it to come mid-table in the televote whilst some other country swiped first. Yet somehow it managed to stomp the televote just as hard as it stomped the jury vote. I guess I wasn’t the only person this struck a chord with after all. Also, I can’t be the only one who thinks this is a perfect dance song? Like it’s great for ballroom, or contemporary. It’s so dreamy and flowy, and I usually HATE dreamy flowy songs, yet this one just resonates with me for some reason and I’m not sure why.
Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes
If no, what is? N/A
Personal ranking (out of 67): 4th
2018: Toy
Country: Israel
Artist: Netta Barzilai
Language: English, some chicken noises, cringe
Thoughts: And here we have another case for bringing back the language rule, because if this song had a Hebrew version I would 100% listen to it more often. When I heard Israel was sending an, ahem, "feminist anthem" about the #MeToo trend on twitter, my first reaction was "ew". When I heard it was the favourite to win, my reaction was also "ew". And when I heard the song for the first time? "Hm, not as bad as I thought."  And also "ew". This song is just embarrassing. I’m embarrassed listening to it, I’m embarrassed watching it, and I’m embarrassed when someone mentions it when I’m trying to convince them Eurovision actually has good music. You can just tell from the first few lines that it was written by middle aged men trying to shill themselves out to gullible young women who think listening to a song by some Israeli DJ “empowers” them.  And let’s be honest here: “empowering” is just media speak for “shit”. The only thing stopping me from putting it at the VERY bottom is the instrumental and performance because without the cringy lyrics you’re left with a pretty good club song, and I swear to God Netta Barzilai could sell herself sneezing for 3 minutes. If “Toy” had been entirely in Hebrew I would’ve given it a pass, and maybe a cheeky vote or two.  But, alas, that was not to be.
Was this my personal winner for this year? No
If no, what was? Italy- Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro- “Non mi Avete fatto Niente”
Personal ranking (out of 67):  64th
2019: Arcade
Country: The Netherlands
Artist: Duncan Laurence
Language: English
Thoughts: You know, in my 9 or so years watching the contest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt genuinely ecstatic watching a song win. Most of the time I either feel neutral (most of them) or a more general, content kind of happy (2014 and 2017). Like I’ve never let out a shout of joy and slid on my knees across my living room floor in sheer, blind happiness. But that’s what I did with “Arcade”. I’m not really sure why that is because, I must confess, it wasn’t my personal winner of the night, and, looking back, I preferred other songs, but… God, I just can’t explain how overwhelmingly happy I was when this song won. I’m not sure if it’s because I was alone or if I was rooting for this deep down (or if it’s because it was between this song or fuckin’ Sweden again). But that’s by the by. How’s the song? Honestly? Really good. One of my favourites of this decade, if I’m honest. It’s the kind of song that’s grown on me a lot since the night of the contest; even though it wasn’t my favourite song from 2019, I’m not mad at all at it winning.
Is this my personal winner for this year? Honestly I had about 10
If no, what is? I could list them if you want
Personal ranking (out of 67):  6th
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bestworstcase · 4 years
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got a dm asking me this: 
[with a link to this post]
Not to be Rude I did watch the show But do you thinkthat Rapunzel was being abusive to Eugene. I understand Other People's opinions & respect them. But i'm not sure what to think of  my interpretation of her treatment to Eugene. Just asking
and i’m gonna answer it in a post because i have A Lot of thoughts ksflskdf
the short answer is: no absolutely not
and the longer answer is:
abuse is a pattern of behavior within the context of an interpersonal relationship whereby one party attempts to gain control over the other by means of emotional and/or physical violence. fear, guilt, shame, isolation, and intimidation are the basic tools by which this is accomplished, and at its core, all abuse stems from a sense of entitlement on the part of the abuser: they hurt their victims because they feel it is within their rights to do so, that they deserve to have this level of control and to benefit themselves at the expense of their victim.
gothel is an excellent fictional representation of this. nothing she does is mean for the sake of being mean. her behavior is calculated and tailored to wear down rapunzel’s self esteem and keep her terrified of the outside world so that she will stay in her tower, under gothel’s control. fundamentally, gothel does this because she sees rapunzel not as a person but as a vessel for the magic gothel alone deserves—thus the harm she does to rapunzel is irrelevant. it’s a means to an end.
we see this in gothel’s treatment of cassandra as well. at four years old, the most cass can do for gothel is shut up and do the household chores, and gothel unleashes her scorn and resentment whenever cassandra does anything else, because in her mind cass isn’t a person but rather something to take care of the cottage so gothel has the time to do other, more enjoyable things. again, she is not just being mean to be mean—exerting this level of control tangibly improves her quality of life.
now with all that in mind, let’s consider rapunzel and eugene. i think it’s fair to say that rapunzel has some controlling tendencies, not just with eugene but everybody, and that these are perhaps exacerbated by her being put in a position of authority within days of leaving her tower. she’s bad at taking advice that doesn’t coincide with her gut instinct, she struggles to hear other people’s perspective, and when she decides on a course of action she’s not easily turned aside.
but rapunzel being strong-willed and not great at listening to people (after eighteen years in almost total isolation!) does not add up to abuse. she’s a flawed person a couple years out from lifelong emotional abuse who’s learning how to relate to people in a healthy way, not someone who feels entitled to and actively seeks to establish control over her boyfriend. and if eugene overcorrects from his early-s1 self-absorption into putting too much of his identity into Supporting Rapunzel Unconditionally, that is not rapunzel’s fault.
i think, from what i’ve seen, a lot of the “rapunzel is abusive to eugene” argument hinges on (1) no time like the past and (2) rapunzel calling eugene out on idealizing his flynn rider days in flynnposter, with these incidents getting added together into “when eugene disagrees with her, she brainwashes it out of him, and she scolds him for being attached to his past.” but that reading feels very disingenuous to me.
rapunzel didn’t travel into the past to brainwash eugene into agreeing with her—the time travel itself was a complete accident, and then she reacted emotionally in the moment because it shocked and upset her to see past!eugene callously leaving his best friend behind (during a time when corona was executing thieves and sentencing people to prison barges left and right! lance was arrested after breaking into the ROYAL VAULT during the height of frederic’s crackdown, what do you think would have happened to him if they hadn’t gone back to rescue him?!). the fact that this stuck with him to such an extent that it ended up changing his perspective on the cass situation was completely unintended 
(and honestly? just poor writing, in the same way that cass forgetting all her legit grievances to obsess over gothel was poor writing. in an ideal world the episode would have ended with raps and eugene talking out their earlier disagreement rather than a weird paradox that literally didn’t effect anything else and was never mentioned again.)
then in the flynnposter situation… eugene has always struggled with this question of who he is, and any upheavals in his life set him on this doubt spiral about his place in the world and feeling like he has to cling to whatever aspects of his identity feel threatened. (see also: everything i ever thought i knew.) and in flynnposter, his appointment to the captaincy triggers this identity disturbance because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it and isn’t equipped to handle it, which causes him to lose sight of who he is now and what he’s accomplished in the last few years—and then this new flynn rider shows up and it’s like dropping a match in a puddle of gasoline because his (valid) discomfort over brock stealing his old identity crosses wires with his captaincy-related identity crisis and becomes “flynn rider is my only legacy and i need to protect it!”
this is unhealthy. this is a classic identity disturbance spiral and speaking from personal experience as someone with this exact issue? 
the way rapunzel handled it was EXACTLY the right thing to do. she gently but firmly reminded him that “flynn rider” was not a good person (true!), that he’s more than her trophy boyfriend (also true!), and helps him reframe the situation in his mind from “this man stole my legacy and i need to defend it or else i’ll have nothing” to “i have grown out of flynn rider, and eugene fitzherbert is the kind of person who can help other people who are stuck in the same destructive lifestyle that i was a few years ago.” yes, it’s obnoxious and creepy for brock to pass off things eugene did as his own past, but eugene doesn’t need to let that throw his entire sense of self into crisis. rapunzel helps him recognize that and ground himself in his present identity, which is precisely what a supportive partner should do in this kind of situation.
and in every single other case of disagreement or conflict between rapunzel and eugene, they... work it out by talking about it, like normal healthy couples do. rapunzel might be strong willed and have a hard time listening to other perspectives, including eugene’s, but she tries. she has so much respect for him as a person and no desire to control him and that is clear in every interaction they have with each other. she’s not perfect—she doesn’t always react to things in the Ideal Correct Way, which was part of the point of the original post—but neither is he and “not perfect” is a far, far cry from “abusive.” 
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beautymercurydragon · 5 years
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Oh…. I have a bit of a rant to go on lol. (Not gonna be extra mean)
The main ‘mean girl’ in Miraculous Ladybug, Chloe aka Queen Bee (superhero alter-ego), was getting some ‘redemption’ over the course of season three. But in the final episode (two-part finale) of the season, she joined Hawk Moth and Mayura to become Miracle Queen, and revealed the identities of all the other holders (except Ladybug and Chat Noir) to HM, and became the Mad Queen of the show.
The entire fandom started to complain about this, calling the writers ‘sexist, or ‘butchering her character’. I disagree for a few reasons, and here’s why -
Butchering a character is as if they were in another series and screwed over completely (you likely understand this based on your posts I’ve seen in the Naruto fandom), or crushing how they were on the path to success and doing good but making them go insane last-minute. This wasn’t the case for Chloe, as the show ISN’T over yet and we still have two more seasons that are official on the way and a movie. There are several more examples of this in media, but I won’t name names because I could trigger some people who dislike the character lol.
Chloe didn’t show many signs of progress to me this season, personally. She still treated Sabrina like her slave, was a bully to Marinette and her friend group, and was pretty much at fault for the entire situation with Miraculer (imo). Long story short, she wasn’t/isn’t ready to be redeemed… YET.
I believe that the right person could make her change. Not Sabrina (considering she’s scared of Chloe), Marinette (as she has her own things and is done with Chloe’s BS), not Adrien, BUT maybe her parents could as Audrey’s coming back to Paris for good.
Chloe could learn to be better through seeing that her mother is so crappy to people, and if she sees some of herself in that, she’d see why Ladybug didn’t want her to become Queen Bee after the Queens’ Battle arc and start to actually change for good.
Chloe was selfish in the Queens’ Battle arc, on that hand, because SHE is the one who transformed on camera for the entirety of Paris to see because she wanted her mother’s attention. Not that I don’t blame her for wanting her mom’s attention and I don’t think Audrey is a bad parent (which she is), but that was HER decision to become QB onscreen.
Chloe’s way to redemption will be through learning from her mistakes, apologizing to everyone for the aftermath, and most of all, doing it in spite of her herself, and NOT her parents, Adrien, Sabrina, Ladybug, or anyone for that matter. Chloe will do it for Chloe.
I don’t hate her as a character by any means, but this is, in my opinion, her fault in the first place, because as Ladybug has told every Miraculous holder from Rena Rouge to Viperion ‘Your identity must remain a secret’, because she wants to keep them and their families safe from akumas. Chloe failed at that order, plain and simple.
I also don’t believe she’s irredeemable, or that she’s worse than Lila. On topic of her (Lila), she literally TEAMED UP with a supervillain terrorizing the city everyday, willingly gets akumatized, and got Marinette EXPELLED from school. If it wasn’t for the sudden urge of them all calming down, she very well would have been akumatized that day into Princess Justice - and that would’ve been it. Game over for everybody if LB/Mari is akumatized and Hawk Moth is controlling her. The user @galahadwilder has a much better analysis of this than I do, and he’s even given me permission to write a fanfiction on it.
At the end of the day, Chloe just pits people against her. Lila however, does the opposite. She pits people to be on her side and against others, and she almost came close to doing that with Marinette in the episode ‘Ladybug’ (also where she got expelled for a while).
Lots of people in the fandom hate on the class for believing Lila, but how many episodes did this happen in? Only one. Just because Alya, Nino and the other classmates were poorly characterized in ONE episode doesn’t mean we all should go out of our way to hate on them and make them OOC in our fanfiction: They’ve turned Rose into a snappy and rude friend instead of the sweetheart she is in canon, Mylene into a loud and obnoxious bully instead of the meek and mousy girl we know canon as, and OH MY GOD. Words cannot describe how much I hate the false characterization of Alya, making her tear up Marinette’s sketchbook, violently hurting her and so on.
Alya ‘I’m the best friend to Ladybug/Marinette ever’ Cesaire would never do that. She’s been there for Marinette from episode one, always helped her when it comes to Adrien, and much more that you’d see in canon (once you begin the show). She is probably the greatest friend in this show to Marinette, point blank. This same thing applies to Nino.
But these same people want to turn Chloe around in two seconds and make her be all sweet and kind with Marinette and turn Mari into this bitchy, bossy, and controlling delinquent and turn Chloe and Kagami along with Luka and sometimes the weather girls Aurore and Mireille into her lapdogs. It’s boring to see and I hate it. The class doesn’t deserve this insane amount of hate they receive from the fandom. If you read @galahadwilder‘s post on this after finishing the series, you’ll see exactly why him, I and many others believe this.
Long story short, here’s what I think: Chloe has a chance for redemption (I know it will happen, Thomas is just saying it won’t to tease us/not spoil the show), Lila is a horrible person who I absolutely do not want to see redeemed, the show isn’t badly written, Chloe’s character wasn’t butchered, and the class are all great friends to Marinette and always will be.
I know this got crazy long and I got a little heated about some things, but thank you for the ask! Hopefully this is a good example of what to watch out for in the fandom/perspective of the show and its characters once you start lol. (The classmates are my children.) (And how to not paint the class as villains if you ever write fanfiction for ML, XD.)
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omxriis · 4 years
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               hi   guys      !      this   is   something   i’ve   been   tossing   back      &      forth   in   my   head   for   a   lil   bit   ,   but   the   fact   of   the   matter   is   that   my   muse   for   mari   was   starting   to   run   low   ,   but   i’m   a   mess      &      don’t   wanna   let   go   of   him   asdfjkns   ,   so   i   decided   to   revamp   him      !      or   more   accurately   ,   bring   old   mari   back      !      so   below   u   will   find   his   old   biography      (      thank   god   i   still   have   his   old   intro   up   sdfgkjfsd      )      as   well   as   a   little   update   bc   he   needs   smth   to   give   him   a   kick   up   the   ass   :/   this   shouldn’t   rly   affect   most   of   my   plots   but   if   u   would   like   to   plot   smth   w   him   ,   pls   let   me   know      !
&& .   announcing   his   royal   highness  ,      (      𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈   𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈   𝐙𝐔𝐋𝐔      )      ,   the      (      𝟑𝟎      )      year   old      (      𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄      )      of      (      𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐀      )      .   he   is   often   confused   with      (      𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋   𝐁 .   𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍      )      .   some   say   that   he   is      (      𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒      &      𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍      )      ,   but   he   is   actually      (      𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑      &      𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋      )      .
trigger   warnings   :   brief   mentions   of   death      &      illness   .
*    𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑪𝑺   .
𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋   𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄      &      𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒   :      omari      (      god   the   highest      )      malachi      (      my   angel      )      zulu      (      heaven      )      .
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒    :      mar   ,   mari   .
𝐀𝐆𝐄   :      thirty   .
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘   :      4th   of   august   .
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑   :      male   .
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒   :      he   /   him   .
𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂   :      leo   af   .
𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍   :      christian   .
𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   :      crown   prince   of   botswana      (      self   -   proclaimed   professional   pain   in   the   ass      )      .
𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒   :      writing   ,   reading   ,   being   in   social   situations   ,   solving   problems   ,   traveling   ,   annoying   his   siblings   .
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒   :      loud   eaters   ,   obnoxious   people   ,   big   insects   ,   being   responsible   for   his   actions   .
*    𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺   .
bare   feet   in   mornings   ,   neatly   folded   clothes   ,   an   organised   shoe   closet   ,   messy   sheets      &      an   unmade   bed   ,   missed   calls   at   2am   ,   highlighted   passages   in   a   book   ,   dogeared   pages   ,   unanswered   texts   ,   tucked   in   shirts   ,   unfinished   books   ,   warm   tea   ,   warm   jumpers   from   the   dryer   ,   odd   ceramic   mugs   ,   hidden   springs   of   water   ,   worn   out   military   boots   ,   fallen   leaves   during   autumn   ,   poetry   at   midnight   ,   sleepy   morning   voice   ,   unsent   letters   .
*   𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀   .
               when   botswana   gained   its   independence   in   1966   ,   it   seemed   as   if   things   were   going   well   .   the   democracy   they   had   built   was   stable      &      it   appeared   as   if   the   land - locked   country   had   no   problems   ,      &      for   a   while   it   hadn’t   but   after   a   few   years   the   peace   in   the   government   started   to   dwindle   .   too   many   people   wanting   too   much   power   ,   somebody   said   .   they   jumped   in   feet   first   without   any   real   clue   how   to   run   a   country   ,   said   another   .   but   over   time   the   uninterrupted   tranquility   became   obsolete   .   botswana   was   slowly   going   down   a   sinkhole   until   1985   ,   when   the   south   african   king   titled   his   eldest   son   ,   arno   zulu   ,   the   king   of   botswana   .
                the   change   shook   the   botswanian   government   to   the   core   ,   a   change   that   it   needed   .   at   first   the   people   of   botswana   weren’t   sure   how   to   react      —      this   new   monarchy   was   something   nobody   had   expected   .   but   the   newly   crowned   king   had   ambition      &      he   had   stride   .   he   had   a   set   vision      &      a   set   plan   to   follow   ,   all   the   while   he   was   kind   to   his   people      &      a   fair   ruler   .   it   didn’t   take   as   long   as   he   expected   for   the   botswanians   to   settle   under   his   rule      (      not   being   given   the   south   african   throne   was   a   huge   knock   on   his   confidence   as   a   royal      )      so   the   speed   his   country   settled   was   comforting   .
                however   ,   the   king   could   never   forgive   his   father   for   throwing   away   his   right   to   the   throne      &      instead   promised   it   to   the   youngest   of   the   zulu   heirs   .   this   bitterness   ,   however   subsided   into   a   more   a   more   subtle   distaste   as   he   settled   into   his   new   role      &      a   short   few   years   later   ,   he   was   married   to   a   libyan   princess      &      not   too   long   after   that   ,   she   fell   pregnant   with   their   first   child   .   the   pregnancy   wasn’t   easy      ;      there   were   a   few   complications   along   the   way   but   after   only   8   months   of   carrying   him   ,   omari   malachi   zulu   was   born   .
                omari   wasn’t   by   any   standards   an   extraordinary   baby   .   his   birth   was   easy   ,   all   things   considered   but   as   the   first   born   child   of   the   king   of   botswana   ,   he   had   responsibilities   he   never   even   knew   he   had   .   the   country   accepted   him   with   open   arms      &      celebrated   his   birth   in   an   ornate   fashion   .   after   all   ,   he   was   the   first   born   child   of   their   first   king   .   streets   were   decorated   with   the   botswanian   flag      &      music   filled   the   streets   for   days   after   .   the   prince   was   a   vision   ,   as   many   called   him   .   he   looked   strikingly   similar   to   his   father   ,   even   small   features   like   the   dimples   in   his   cheeks      &      the   crease   between   his   eyebrows   as   he   smiled   .   for   months   botswana   was   full   of   joy      &      that   joy   started   to   bring   the   country   back   into   the   state   of   peace   they   had   at   the   very   start   of   their   independence   .
                   the   birth   of   their   future   king   gave   them   hope   .   stability   .      &      in   turn   they   treated   their   leaders   with   grace      &      kindness   ,   living   in   harmomy   .   it   was   almost   idyllic      ;      omari   grew   up   in   a   world   where   everyone   was   at   peace   as   opposed   to   just   a   few   years   before   he   was   born   .   he   had   everything   he   wanted      &      was   treated   with   respect   ,   so   he   treated   his   people   with   respect   in   return   .   he   grew   up   in   a   loving   household   ,   full   of   books      &      all   the   learning   tools   a   young   heir   could   need   ,      &      although   his   professor   was   hard   on   him   ,   omari   did   not   let   this   harden   him   .
                as   a   child   he   had   always   been   a   free   -   spirit      ;      he   was   intrigued   by   the   idea   of   traveling      &      had   read   about   all   the   places   in   the   books   from   the   palace’s   library      &      from   strangers   who   had   stayed   at   the   palace   in   passing   .   he   was   quite   content   ,   he   had   a   certain   mischievousness   which   often   caught   the   guards   out      &      a   long   string   of   jokes   that   could   keep   people   laughing   for   days   .   however   ,   for   a   child   living   in   such   a   large   expanse   it   was   incredibly   lonely   ,   so   it’s   to   be   expected   that   when   his   brother   was   born   ,   omari   was   over   the   moon   .
                the   pair   were   like   two   peas   in   a   pod      ;      where   you’d   see   one   ,   you’d   no   doubt   see   the   other   following   not   too   far   behind   .   they   grew   close   quickly      &      omari   was   fiercely   loyal   to   his   younger   brother   .   however   ,   much   like   any   ordinary   older   sibling   he   could   be   difficult   .   although   he   wasn’t   nasty   ,   he   was   a   bit   of   a   tyrant   .   causing   ruckus      &      playing   pranks   on   his   brother   was   omari’s   favourite   pastimes      &      although   they   had   their   disagreements   ,   he   did   it   with   love      &      there   was   very   little   omari   wouldn’t   do   for   him   .
                when   his   brother   was   born   ,   omari   learned   a   lesson   in   sharing   .   when   his   sister   was   born   ,   he   learned   a   lesson   in   protection   .   growing   up   he   was   educated   on   how   to   run   a   country   successfully      &      how   to   be   a   good   king   ,   but   nobody   taught   him   how   to   be   a   good   brother   .   sometimes   he   could   be   intolerant   to   who   he’d   often   call   the   ‘ bonus   zulu   children ’   just   to   irritate   them   ,   but   despite   his   annoying   habits   his   siblings   were   his   best   friends   .   they   filled   the   empty   void   that   would   otherwise   still   be   hollow   in   the   palace      &      on   stressful   days   ,   they’d   be   the   ones   to   aid   him   in   unwinding   .
                the   pressures   of   becoming   king   one   day   didn’t   truly   hit   full   force   until   he   hit   his   teenage   years   .   he   was   expected   to   set   a   prime   example   not   only   for   his   country   but   also   his   siblings   ,      &    although   he   did   a   good   job   at   being   generally   liked   by   his   peers    &      the   like   ,   he   realised   soon   enough   he’d   have   to   get   out   there      &      represent   his   country   ,   so   that’s   what   he   did   .   he   started   travelling   the   world      &      meeting   new   people      &      after   a   while   ,   he   went   to   college   .   someone   had   briefly   suggested   a   college   in   portugal   so   he   decided   to   go   there   ,   studying   literature      &      modern   language   .
                it   was   here   where   he   met   barbara   de   bragança   ,   being   in   college   at   the   same   time   as   she   was   getting   her   degree   .   due   to   his   royal   status   he   was   invited   to   stay   at   her   college   home      &      after   taking   the   opportunity   ,   the   two   quickly   became   close   friends   .   he   completed   his   education   in   portugal   before   he   jetted   off   to   carry   on   exploring   the   world   ,   however   he   never   lost   touch   with   barbie      &      he   started   to   become   more   responsible   as   he   prepared   to   one   day   be   king   .   while   on   his   travels   he   learned   a   lot   about   different   cultures      &      could   strike   up   a   conversation   with   anyone   over   anything   .
                give   or   take   a   few   years    &      his   family   asked   him   to   get   engaged   to   the   princess   of   hungary   ,   fanni   croÿ   .   the   arrangement   was   strange   given   they   already   had   a   history   but   due   to   it   being   for   the   benefit   of   botswana   he   agreed      &      then   they   were   engaged   .   however   ,   just   as   they   were   starting   to   figure   things   out   the   engagement   was   called   off      &      out   of   his   confusion   ,   omari   took   off   without   a   word   to   anyone      &      has   been   m.i.a   ever   since   ,   only   keeping   in   touch   with   a   short   selection   of   people   .
*     𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀   .
omari   is   a   lover   of   adventure      &      experiencing   new   things   .   people   might   call   him   a   thrill   seeker   ,   but   he   just   believes   that   a   life   without   experiencing   everything   you   can   isn’t   a   life   worth   living   .   he   enjoys   learning   new   things      &    is   always   keen   on   hearing   different   opinions   to   benefit   his   own   ,   however   he   can   come   across   as   being   quite   opinionated   when   it   comes   to   his   own   thoughts      &    he’s   not   afraid   to   speak   his   mind   ,   which   sometimes   got   him   into   trouble   when   he   was   younger   but   has   earned   him   great   respect   as   he   grew   older   .
                in   general   ,   omari   is   kind      &      thoughtful   .   he’s   been   influenced   a   lot   by   his   father’s   way   of   ruling   the   country      &      is   a   firm   believer   that   you   should   treat   people   the   way   you   expect   to   be   treated   ,   but   he’s   not   afraid   to   stand   his   ground   when   he   needs   to   or   protect   those   that   he’s   closest   to   .   when   it   comes   to   his   family      &    his   close   friends   ,   omari   will   go   to   the   ends   of   the   earth   for   them   even   if   it   was   just   to   bring   them   a   pretzel   from   europe   .   he   values   them   a   lot      &      is   extremely   loyal   to   them   .
                however   ,   omari   can   be   quite   flaky      &      fickle   .   when   it   comes   to   making   decisions   regarding   his   country   ,   he’s   very   clever   in   his   approach    &    makes   sure   it’s   the   best   decision   but   when   it   comes   to   his   personal   life   ,   he’s   not   very   good   at   all      &      often   has   to   seek   advice   from   other   people   just   to   make   the   correct   decision   .   he   dislikes   situations   that   are   too   messy   ,   which   is   one   of   the   few   reservations   he   has   about   being   king   because   he   knows   he’ll   be   stuck   in   some   but   he’s   working   on   his   habit   of   fleeing   before   the   situation   gets   too   bad      &   instead   striving   to   resolve   them   .
                he   can   be   pretty   mischievous   ,   since   when   he   was   younger   he’d   often   play   pranks   on   the   guards      &    his   siblings   just   to   ,   as   he   used   to   say   ‘ pass   the   time ’   so   although   he’s   someone   you   can   trust   with   your   secrets   ,   he’s   not   someone   you   can   trust   not   to   scare   the   living   daylights   out   of   you   the   next   chance   he   gets   .   he   loves   to   have   fun      &    is   slightly   worried   that   when   he   becomes   king   all   the   fun   he’s   having   now   will   no   longer   exist   ,   but   following   in   his   father’s   footsteps   is   something   he’s   always   been   keen   in   doing      &      seeing   how   well   he’s   doing   pushes   him   to   do   the   same   .
                although   his   father   isn’t   so   bothered   anymore   by   the   fact   that   he   was   ,   as   omari   sees   it   thrown   to   the   side   for   his   younger   brother   ,   omari   is   extremely   bitter   about   it   .   even   though   he   loves   botswana      &      its   people   ,   he   still   heavily   believes   that   since   his   father   is   the   oldest   of   the   zulu   heirs   ,   he’s   rightfully   in   line   for   the   south   african   throne   so   the   fact   that   his   uncle   ,   who’s   little   over   ten   years   older than   him   never   fails   to   stir   up   troubling   thoughts      &      now   that   his   grandfather   has   fallen   ill   ,   he   sees   this   as   an   opportunity   to   start   conflict   with   his   uncle   .
*   𝑼𝑷𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬   .
ok   i’m   literally   just   gonna   bullet   point   the   things   that   have   changed   for   him   bc   i’m   too   lazy   to   go   back      &      edit   this   entire   bio   sdfkjdnsjkg
but   u   guys   already   know   gramps   is   dead   ,   which   means   ayo   is   king   ,   which   means   the   cousins   failed   in   their   attempts   smh
mari   was   slightly   bitter   after   the   coronation   ,   but   it   only   lasted   for   a   short   while   ,   bc   news   hit   him   that   his   father   wasn’t   very   well   ,   which   meant   that   mari   would   have   to   step   up      &      do   more
i’m   gonna   say   to   save   confusion   that   he   just   wasn’t   doing   enough   .   he   rarely   got   involved   with   political   moves   ,   so   that’s   crucial   now   since   his   father   can’t   cope   as   usual
so   i   don’t   rly   know   how   this   will   affect   him   ,   it’ll   either   make   him   kick   his   ass   into   gear      &      do   shit   with   his   life   or   he’ll   get   so   stressed   he’ll   have   a   break   down
WHO   KNOWS
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mothman-clarice-2 · 4 years
Note
The oc asks: 5, 12 & 18? Btw hope you’re doing well!!
First of all, oh my effing God THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AHHHH! I always love talking about my OCs but I never get the chance to bUT NOW YOU GAVE ME THAT CHANCE AND I’M OVER THE MOON RN!!!! I have about 16 OCs but because I don’t wanna spam my followers, I tried to narrow it down to some of my favorites to talk about. I’ll include some doodles of them so you have faces to assign their names to. 
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What are their favorite songs?
Spectra- Your Soul by Forrest. It's just so funky and catchy and he can't help but dance when it plays :)
Autumn- La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf. Given Autumn is French but lives in America, she likes indulging in a bit of her own culture. This song was her favorite as a child and it's become a comforting and nostalgic song for her.
Lucas- The Only Thing They Fear is You by Mick Gordon (from the Doom Eternal soundtrack). Lucas is a heavy metal musician so obviously, his favorite song is gonna be metal. He loves listening to this especially when exercising because of the immense feeling of power it gives him.
Iris- Resonance by Home. Iris's favorite genre (second only to heavy metal considering she is bandmates with Lucas) is vaporwave so naturally, her favorite song would be the one that started it all.
Icarus- STFU by Pink Guy. Icarus is a comedian whose style was heavily influenced by the style of Pink Guy. He loves making fun of the overly edgy and obnoxiously offensive “humor” used by most teenagers trying to be cool and edgy. He loves the aggressiveness of this song and often listens to it to vent his frustration at people who really get on his nerves. 
Doré- Derniere Danse by Indila. Doré being born and raised in France loves indulging in her culture through French music. This song just has this enchanting beauty that makes her want to get up and dance.
Lorenzo- Nocturnes Op. 9 by Chopin. Lorenzo has a taste for the finer things in life and loves classical music with culture and history behind them. He also quite enjoys Gymnopedie No. 1 by Erik Satie as it was one of the first songs he learned to play on the piano.
What is something they carry with them always or never leave the house without?
Spectra- Spectra is a mega softie especially for his girlfriend Autumn and his brother Neon who disappeared years ago. (There's a whole plot behind Neon’s disappearance. I’ll summarize it at the bottom*) Spectra likes to keep the cork from the wine bottle he and Autumn opened on their first date. He also likes to keep a bandana that Neon had before he disappeared. Spectra found it while he was searching for Neon and kept it as a motivator to keep up the search.
Autumn- Autumn has had some seriously traumatic stuff happen to her. I won’t say it here because it could be triggering to someone so I’ll put it in the hashtags if you wanna know. She has gained a strong passion for protecting children as a result of her trauma to the point where it’s become her life’s mission. She keeps a picture of herself as a child before the traumatic event happened to her as a reminder to never let what happened to her happen to anyone else. 
Lucas- Despite Lucas’s intimidating appearance, he is a massive softie off-stage and is very sentimental. To make a long story short, he had a freak accident when he was young that left him severely disfigured and scarred. He felt really self-conscious about this until he discovered the heavy metal community. He quickly gained fame because his appearance fit the heavy metal aesthetic really well and he made good music. He used his fame to promote body positivity and has helped a lot of people with scars and disfigurements accept them and learn to love themselves. Lucas likes visiting children’s hospitals and has kept a few mementos from some of the kids he’s met. Most of these include drawings and cards kids made for him. 
Iris- Iris loves living the aesthetic lifestyle and tries to make everything she owns fit her aesthetics. Lucas being her boyfriend knows this and gave her a gift of a keychain with a bunch of vaporwave and retro futurism-themed pendants. She cherishes it and keeps it with her everywhere she goes. 
Icarus- Icarus is not really one for being sentimental but he secretly keeps a bottle cap his dad gave him. He has a strong bond with his family (though he never shows it to other people) so he treasures that bottle cap as a piece of his family. 
Doré- Doré is a transgender woman and likes keeping pride memorabilia on her as she goes about her daily life. Her husband Lorenzo (although he is cis and straight) is incredibly supportive of her and likes giving her pride related gifts, one of which is a little heart-shaped crystal pendant of the trans flag with a pure gold rim. She keeps it as a bit of trans pride and a symbol of her and Lorenzo’s love. 
Lorenzo- Lorenzo is incredibly romantic and deeply in love with Doré so naturally, he would like to keep a (kinda literal) piece of her with him. Doré is a golden orb weaver spider that gets its name from its golden-colored silk. She is a luxury fashion designer and she uses her silk in many of her products (which is why they’re considered luxury). She made a little handkerchief for Lorenzo made purely out of her own silk that he cherishes as if it were his firstborn child. 
Do they love getting hugs or giving hugs?
Spectra- Spectra is a giver of cuddles through and through
Autumn- Autumn doesn’t like touching people but she likes getting hugs from Spectra
Lucas- He likes to give and receive.
Iris- She likes giving
Icarus- He’s not a hugger
Doré- She likes getting hugs, primarily from Lorenzo
Lorenzo- He’s a giver
*About Neon’s disappearance: To make a long story short, Neon and Spectra are the sons of the two main Gods in this universe and Neon was fascinated by Earth so he traveled to it and became mortal. He stayed too long, forgot he was a divine being, joined a gang, betrayed that gang, and is now constantly on the run from the authorities and the gang he betrayed. Spectra has dedicated himself to find Neon and bring him back home.
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