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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years ago

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Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

#Din djarin #Javier Peña #Agent Whiskey #Frankie Morales #Max Phillips #marcus pike #marcus moreno #gender neutral reader #gn reader #pedro pascal

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amane-by-together · 4 years ago

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Hanafuda || Amane Yugi

(Part 2 of 10)

genre: fluff, school, slice of life, modern au (where all wonders live)

warnings: cursing, grocery puns

summary: amane yugi spends his school days skipping classes until he meets [name] [surname], a student from the other class, who was also skipping classes and eventually the two of them formed a platonic friendship. cutting classes and playing hanafuda together strengthens their friendship but soon unexpected feelings blossom between the two.

[name], for the first time in weeks, finally decided to take just one class for the sake of her attendance. In Amane's case, he almost forgot where he was seated but thankfully he remembered that he sat behind Yashiro Nene.

“Why the hell do I have to go to class, cheese and fucking fries.” [name] grumbled under her breath. “Just one whole class for this day and the rest I'll skip,”

“[surname]-san!” [name] frowned at her guy classmate (or does she even remember him) who was standing in front of the entrance blocking her way. “It's a rare thing for you to come to class.”

“Mind your fucking business you person I don't bother to remember.” [name] wore a distasteful expression to the guy so that he will know that she ain't interested in playing with him. “First thing in the morning and I'm already pissed as hell.”

[name] lazily made her way to her designated desk and sits down. Everyone stared at [name], who was currently confused why they had their eyes on her. She suddenly became uncomfortable. “What?” she said in a cold tone. “The fuck are you all looking at?”

In fear, everyone turned their heads back and continued what they were doing. [name] rolled her eyes, she didn't have any time to deal with their shit.

‘I'm gonna go out after lunch, I hope Amane-kun was there, otherwise it'll be lonely...’ [name] rests her cheek on top of her palm, looking at the board with an unamused expression. ‘I've been hanging out too much with Amane-kun, if only we're both classmates—’

“[surname]-san.” [name]'s thoughts were interrupted by her teacher's voice. She tilted her head waiting for another word. “Someone wanted to see you.”

‘Who tf—?’ The annoyed female stood up from her chair, she let out a small sigh. Who would want to see [name] in the middle of the class? Well maybe that someone would return something to her, the thing is, she didn't lent anything amongst the hundreds of students in the school. Then, who could it be?

“Sir, may I ask who?”

“Yugi from Class A.”

[name] blinked. “P-pardon?”

“He wants to give you something.” [name] swore she saw the teacher smirk at her. The whole class looked at [name] again but this time they were mentally teasing her.

Tsukasa's eyes widened in pure shock, he glanced over to [name] and smiled brightly. “[name]-chi is Amane's girlfriend?”

And soon everyone started to fangirl loudly. [name] facepalmed really hard muttering “Shut the fuck up.” under her breath multiple times. Her ears started to burn because of embarrassment. “You all must be mistaken.” she chuckled nervously. “We're not dating.”

“Hmm, then explain why I always saw you two together during lunch?” Tsukasa asked with a teasing glint in his eyes. [name]'s eye twitched in annoyance now that the younger twin seems to be supporting the idea of she and Amane being together.

“Uh, can I go now?” [name] pointed at the door wincing to escape the situation. “I can't let him wait that long.” She walked out of the classroom and saw Amane waiting for her outside with his hands on his back. Was he hiding something?

“Amane-kun.” The said boy had his head perked up to her direction, [name] went over to him and shot her hand up. “Yo.”

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Amane pointed at his finger towards the group of classmates peeking over to the two teens.

“Don't mind them.” [name] swats her hand. “Anyways, why did you call me?”

Amane gave her a small paper bag. [name] blinked twice and gently grabbed the bag. “What's this?”

The choppy haired boy's cheeks turned red and started talking in pout while looking away. “It's a bracelet...” he murmured. “They're matching bracelets, I'm currently wearing mine.”

“You bought this for me?” [name] resisted the urge to hug Amane, if only her classmates weren't watching her. She smiled, pink dusted upon her cheeks. “Thanks Amane-kun.”

“I-It's no big deal, really, but I'm glad you like it.” Amane sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while grinning.

[name] placed her hand on his shoulder, stood on the tips of her toes slightly and whispered something on his ear. “By the way do you want to skip classes after lunch?”

“I kinda plan to do that so I guess it's a yes.” Amane whispered back at her.

“Yeah, we're definitely skipping again.”

The two of them broke down in a fit of giggles as they pulled away from each other. “Hey [name], do you have plans later?” he asked.

“Not really, why'd you ask?”

Amane's cheeks started to burn again, he gained a little confidence and looked at [name] in a flustered state. “Well, why don't we go somewhere else after school? Just the two of us?”

“Of course.” [name] answered. Amane let out a sigh of relief and smiled back at his female friend.

“I gotta go back to class.” Amane patted her shoulder before dashing off towards his classroom. “I'll see you later!”

“You too,” [name] had her hand slightly raised up. She let out a small chuckle and looked at the paper bag. “Amane-kun, you really are a wonder...”

She quickly switched back to her aloofness and glared at her classmates. “The fuck are you all looking at?” she asked as her classmates hurriedly went over to their desks. “Honestly, when will they learn not to meddle in a private conversation.” she murmured right before she entered the classroom

“I don't fucking get this projectile motion.” [name] was in a state of existential crisis remembering the physics lesson that they tackled during class. “Did I really skip that much?”

“In my case I only understood Earth and Life Sciences.” Amane changed his school shoes and placed them inside his shoe locker. [name] waited for him, placing her hand on her waist and whistled a little bit. After that the two of them started to walk next to each other. “[name]-san, did you notice that everyone was staring at you?”

“You didn't think it was you who they were staring at?” [name] scratched her head, her silver bracelet was twinkling against the sunset.

“Nope.” Amane answered. “It's definitely you, must be because you're pretty.”

[name] lets out a weird sound of disbelief and shock. Amane stopped on to his tracks as he realized what he had said. “I-I mean, yeah you are pretty, n-not gonna lie t-though.” he stuttered with a blush forming on his visuals.

“S-sorry.” It was [name]'s turn to blush, she looked down on her feet as her bangs were covering her eyes. “I-It's just no o-one h-has ever called me p-pretty before.”

“I-I always f-find you pretty so...” Amane can feel his whole face burning like embers. The two of them made eye contact and it felt like time had stopped between them. “If you like, I'll gladly call you pretty everyday...”

“Amane...” [name] covered her whole face to muffle her words. She felt so flustered and she didn't know what to do. Amane averted his gaze from her and blushed. “Screw you—”

“I'm sorry but I'm not lying.” Amane cleared his throat, an evident blush was still on his cheeks. “Let's go to the mall, do you want to eat some donuts?”

“Yeah dude!” [name] tries to lighten up the mood so that it wouldn't be awkward anymore. To be fair, Amane was on the attractive side in her opinion, she doesn't really find herself pretty but people have different perspectives anyways.

[name] wouldn't deny it though, Amane has nice visuals and...hands, they looked really soft and warm, she sometimes imagine what would it be like if they held hands. Other than that, he is an affectionate and sweet, then he turns into a sadist and a tease sometimes. “I never got to ask you this [name]-san but are you going out with someone?”

“I never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend.” [name] replied. “No one really confesses to me at some point so basically I'm single, must be nice having one though..” she mumbles the last part.

“I guess everyone must be blind...” Amane muttered to himself before walking ahead, leaving [name] clueless, and then she catched up next to the choppy haired boy.

“Amane-kun, I hope you don't mind but I'm gonna buy some groceries along the way.” [name] puts her hands behind her back. “After that, we can get some donuts and roam around.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Amane reluctantly agrees with her. [name] wrapped an arm around his shoulders and grinned as he uttered an 'oof' from his lips.

“I love your gift by the way.” [name] raised her wrist in front of Amane to show her that she's wearing the bracelet. Her eyes widened in joy and pointed out the matching bracelet around his wrist. “And we're matching~!”

But then [name] flicked his forehead. “Ow!” Amane held his forehead while slightly whimpering. “That hurts.” he pouted. [name] let out a plfft sound from her lips, she reached over to rub his throbbing forehead.

“That's for excusing me out of class and my classmates started to tease me that you're my boyfriend.” she chuckled, then she switches to an annoyed tone. “Then your brother called me Nee-san just to tease me.”

Amane stifled a laugh. [name] puffed her cheeks at him angrily. “Oi! It's not that funny!” she harrumphed. She looked like an angry pouting mochi rather than an angry person.

“Hmm~?” Amane cheekily smirks at the latter, he leaned next to her to continue teasing her. “Nee-san~?”

“Don't call me Nee-san you idiot!” An irk mark appears on the side of [name]'s forehead as she reached over to pinch his cheek. “Honestly, you're such a tease.”

“Only for you~” Amane ruffles her hair making it messier than it is. [name] sighed asking how the hell did she end up being friends with Amane who is one hell of a tease.

After a few minutes of teasing and cheek pinching, the two teens arrived at the mall. [name] and Amane went to get some groceries first. “All of these bananas but you can't even notice my peelings.” [name] faked a sniff while putting the bunch of bananas inside the basket that Amane was holding.

“I don't understand why you needed six cans of sprite, can't you buy 7up instead?” [name] silently wheezed as she smacked his shoulder, earning a laugh from Amane.

“Shut up, I don't have—thyme for that.” [name] puts some spices inside the basket. She grabbed some bread from the bread aisle. “I also knead bread too.”

“I also have a grocery joke but aisle tell it later.” Amane added while laughing. [name] bursted out giggling, clutching on to her stomach. “Okay we better stop, the old couple beside us were giving looks of suspicion.”

“O-kale then.” [name] and Amane entered one of the aisles. “Grate minds think alike.”

“Do you live alone [name]?” Amane asked all of a sudden. He doesn't know any much about [name]'s family or background, heck, he doesn't even know if she had siblings.

“I live with Yako-neesan and my little brother.” [name] places some products inside the basket. “Why?”

“Just asking.”

“You seem curious about my family background.” [name] laughs softly while putting two carton of milk in the basket. “My parents are both abroad, my little brother and I lived in Yako-neesan's apartment, which is our cousin.”

“You're an older sibling?”

“Well yeah,” [name] beckoned Amane to follow her to the next aisle. “Maybe you can come over and play with him, he doesn't mind talking to older guys.”

“Did I mention that he wanted to meet you though?” [name] tilted her head towards his direction with a pack of strawberries on her hand. “You two will definitely get along.”

“What was Tsukasa like in class if I may ask?” Amane asked again, sure, even though the younger twin has a life of his own, he can't help but to be concerned with him.

“How the fuck should I know?” [name] raised her eyebrows and tossed the pack of strawberries in the basket. “I skipped a lot of classes so I didn't really pay attention to Tsukasa-kun.”

“It's like you skipped a lot than I did.” Amane sheepishly chuckles but he deadpanned afterwards. “But I can't get a damn thing about Maths.”

“I think we crossed the whole list.” [name] tells Amane with a thumbs up. The two of them went to the lane with few people. [name] whipped out her wallet when it was her turn to check in. “Omigod. Do I really have to carry them all?”

“I could help you carry them.” Amane suggests. [name]'s heart suddenly skipped a beat, she nodded slowly meaning that she needed his help to carry them.

“There sure were a lot of people in the donut shop.” [name] sighed in a low spirited tone while holding the paper bag filled with donuts. Currently, Amane and [name] were eating donuts with their backs against the wall. “Here's yours Amane-kun.”

Amane took a bite of the plain donut and started munching on it. They were freshly cooked so that's why it tasted good. “So [name], are you going to class tomorrow?”

“I was gonna plan to attend one whole class in one week.” [name] answers while eating her cream-filled donut. Truth to be told, she didn't feel guilty about skipping classes, it was only her escape from pressure and stress in school. “How about you?”

“I guess I'll skip tomorrow.” Amane took out a piece of his donut and showed it to [name]. “Want some?”

“Sure. Thanks.” [name] opened her mouth waiting for Amane to plop the piece of donut inside her mouth. He blushed at the thought of his fingers might brush against her lips. Amane plopped the bite inside her mouth which [name] ate it gratefully. “Here have some of mine in exchange.” she says while handing him the donut.

Amane takes a bite of the cream-filled donut. He glanced over to [name] and saw that there's a bit of cream near her lips. “Hold on,” he pointed at her face. “Um, you got some cream on the side of your lips.”

“Huh? Here?” [name] pointed at her face. Amane shakes his head since she can't see where he was pointing. He sighed and reached over to wipe the cream off her lips using his thumb and quickly licked it.

Amane smirked slyly at her. “The cream does taste good.” he said in a playful way. [name]'s face grew red at the sudden action that he did, he decided to tease her a little bit so he moved his face closer to hers. “You seem a little flustered~ hmm~?”

[name] leaned back and averted her gaze from him. “Well, that looked like an indirect kiss.” she protested while pouting slightly. Amane let out a light chuckle and smiled.

“Sorry, I can't help but to tease because you're so cute.” He said with a slight smirk and he reached over to lightly pinch her cheek. “Your cheeks are red~”

“Ok, that's enough.” [name] pried his hand off her cheek and rubs it a little. Amane stares at her in a lovestruck awe, the way she blushes and pouts made him feel like he just wanna hold her protectively in his arms. “I finished my donut, let's get going now.”

The two of them got out of the mall. The skies were as pink overlayed with an orange color that the sun was setting. Amane stared at [name]'s hand, he blushed at the thought of hold it. “[name]-san...” he came to a halt.

“Yeah?” [name] said.

“Can...I...?” Amane looked down while mumbling incoherently. [name] tilted her head in confusion as he waits for him to speak. Amane must have looked like a strawberry right now. His eyes meet hers as he gains a bit of confidence. “C-Can I hold your hand?!” he asked with a hint of embarrassment.

[name]'s cheeks turned red at the sudden request. She stared at her own hand and then his hands, for some reason his hand looked warm. “T-that was a strange thing to ask, I'm sorry—” Amane swats his hand in denial.

“Sure...”

“I'm sorry, what?” Amane's eyes widened. [name] turned away from him and blushed intensely, he looks at her hand. “You don't mind right? Me holding your hand...?”

“Mhmm...” [name] brushes her hand against his so that Amane would know that it's okay to hold her hand. Amane laced their hands together, tenderly holding her hand. [name] can hear her heartbeat hammering inside her chest. “You really like being coddled, huh?”

‘Her hand feels soft.’ Amane looked at their hands linking with each other. ‘They fit so perfectly with mine...’

“Shall we continue?” Amane asked with a shy smile. [name] hummed in agreement as the choppy haired boy gripped on to her hand softly, grinning at the female. “Let's take you home then~”

The two teens started walking together hand in hand, feeling each others warmth till the tips of their very own fingers. Amane mumbled something under his breath.“I love you,”

“Eh?” [name] didn't quite hear what Amane just mumbled.

“I meant your hands!” Amane blushed that he accidentally slipped that out but thank god she didn't hear it. “I love your hands——They're really cute!”

“Well your hands are pretty much gorgeous than mine, you have long fingers...” [name] raised their intertwined hands together in front of Amane and smiled softly. “See, our hands pretty much fit together.”

“Yeah...” Amane smiled contently, hoping that this moment will never end. If [name] continues to act like this around him,

Then, he would most likely to fall for her even more.

-end of part 2-

thank you for reading, be sure to like and reblog if you love this part~!

taglist: @closetwaffle @closetweebsmh

#tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #amane yugi #amane yugi x reader #hanako x reader #yugi amane #yugi amane x reader #amane #hanako kun #hanako #toilet bound hanako kun #amane x reader

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kaypeace21 · 4 years ago

Note

i’m a survivor too, and i found that certain scenes/stuff will said just really struck me as ‘csa-survivor’-like? i felt a bit uncomfortable about headcanoning it happening to someone else, especially for a fandom as wild as this one, but your metas have really been a comfort to me because they’ve been able to pick out and explain things that i couldn’t necessarily find the words for myself.

and yeah, i would love to have a character like me that is powerful and who finds love and who gets a happy ending. the people who call the theory disgusting always kinda hit wrong with me because although csa is a difficult subject, we shouldn’t be ashamed about sharing it. they sound like they’re trying to say that it’s a bad topic to talk about and implying that it can’t happen to kids, which uhhhhh-

(i’m sure that’s not what they mean, precisely, but it’s still what they sound like, and i wish that they would stop implying that we can’t exist, especially in popular media. we do, and i’m not gonna pretend we don’t, and if they feel uncomfortable with the topic they can just use the block button. we deserve to have some well written representation just as much as anyone else. also, i really really hope that will gets a happy ending.)

anywayyyy i love your theories and i can see your post in the tag so i think you’re fine?? have a good day ❤️❤️❤️

SORRY, this ask took so long to respond to. It always warms my heart to hear other survivors speak and say they found comfort in my theory.

Yes, I think I and a lot of c*a/r*pe victims (subconscious or otherwise) were triggered by some of the symbolism/visuals in s1-3. And s3 made it hard for most of us to ignore the past imagery- since s3 wasn’t as subtle.

I get why people have reservations about the theory. But the debates to the contrary are usually just plain offensive. Or people trying to be respectful but being the opposite. There’s the obvious bad-apples . I got many anons after part 1 of my DID theory saying it “ruined/tainted byler”, and “if that happened to Will i’ll stop shipping byler” , or that it “ruins the best gay character” , and to “remove the post immediately”. And this was when I was open about being a gay c*a victim. I obviously blocked them. Many survivors don’t come forward because they’re afraid people will see them as “tainted”, “ruined”, “ just their trauma”, or blame them for what happened. So yeah, it pisses me off when people say similar stuff about Will (and thus other c*a victims). Not even diving into the messed up psychology about byler/mileven shippers (knowing i was a lesbian c*a victim) but purposely spreading bs rumors about me being a p*do that was into Will/Noah-all because of the theory. -_-

Then there’s the people who try to be “respectful” but literally do the opposite.

I’ve heard numerous times it’s somehow “less offensive” to just use r*pe imagery to make monsters scary. Rather than have the monsters have that imagery cause Will created the monsters from his memory/imagination-and st is a story of Will healing from that trauma. SORRY- I disagree. Using the worst experiences of peoples’ lives (and triggering their trauma) for no real purpose- except to make their monsters scarier to the normal/general audience who haven’t gone through it so won’t be triggered like us - is MORE OFFENSIVE to victims! NOT LESS! At least to me.

Then there’s the people who say “c*a should never be talked about (in stories).” Which I disagree with. V*ctims have already been told by ab*ser’s and enablers of the ab*ser- to never talk about what happened to us . So it rubs A LOT of us the wrong way when people say this. Because (subconscious or not) you remind some of us of the people who used to hurt/silence us. People say this -simply for their convenience (like ab*sers) and cause deep down they’re uncomfortable with our existence and equate the despicable act to us the innocent v*ctim ...or just want to deny the horrible reality of the situation (like many enablers who deny the truth and hurt us because they don’t want to accept reality) . And 1) It brings us back to a time where they told us to NEVER talk about it- and makes us feel like we did something wrong when we didn’t! 2) Every psych professional says with-holding/keeping the ab*se a secret is detrimental to our mental health.

Plus, there’s a HUGE difference between sugarcoating/minimizing trauma or WORSE glamorizing, condoning, or romanticizing C*A in stories (ex: pretty little liars) VS showing how the action is wrong, causes trauma, but showing recovery and happiness is still possible for v*ctims. if the story shows how accurately traumatizing it is (instead of minimizing/glamorizing it)- it’s incredibly rare for that character to get a happy ending. Having a story about recovering from that type of trauma and finding happiness despite such hardships would be amazing for US survivors! We rarely get stories with a happy ending- it’s more harmful to us survivors to never see ourselves get happy endings in tv/film/books. How can some survivors (in a dark place) think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel- if it’s never shown?Also if Will has DID too- it’s good mental health rep, along with queer rep (and survivor’s rep.) All 3 groups rarely are treated well or get happy endings in media. A lot of people may feel more heard, seen, and a bit more hopeful for the future - If Will (and other characters) get a happy ending.

And even though st has many themes- like say homophobia. To try and hand-wave all the disturbing r*pe imagery away as ‘Will is just gay so the monsters are like that”. IS SOOOOOO offensive. Trigger warning for examples. I’m sorry what part of Max saying when Billy had c*nsensual s*x it’s “good screams” but when possessed by the mf he causes Heather to do “bad screams” read as gay???! Having the possessed ch*ke/dr*g people before throwing them in trunks (like it’s implied Lonnie did to Will -since Jonathan checked Lonnie’s trunk for Will in s1)?Tying their arms and legs up/ g*ging them and getting on top of them and saying “stay VERY still it’ll all be over soon”-before a monster shoves it’s tentacle into someone’s mouth and inserts a goo - just gay??? Similar to the sentient vine/shadow monster forcing itself down Will’s throat. Let alone Will saying things like “he made me do it”, “i felt it everywhere”, or being tied to a bed and screaming “help! stop! it hurts! let me go!” While Jonathan is the only one who’s visibly triggered by this and has to literally turn away and hug someone . Or barb, billy, and El spiting up a white liquid from their mouth (similar to will spitting up a slug and lying to his mother about it ).El/billy touching a suspicious looking slime with their hand and looking at the substance confused . El drawing Papa with 3 legs (the middle one being shorter) , trying to undress in front of the boys , and Benny saying “I think she’s been ab*sed or something”.The theme of ab*sive dads- brenner , Lonnie, and Neil . Even when the demogorgan (called in d&d the “deep father”/ in the show “a man without a face”) attacked Barb it’s chopped up with scenes of Nancy having c*nsensual sex (the monsters are doing the opposite symbolically). There’s way more examples but NO- to try and hand wave /equate ALL OF THIS to just “gay imagery” or an “a*ds metaphor” is WAY more problematic. And just offensive (specifically to gay people) than just admitting what it may actually represent. R*pe imagery and gay imagery is NOT THE SAME THING!

Also ST has never been a kid show- maybe rewatch the show and see the rating of tv-14 . Goodness sake- s1 has a st*ged su*icde, k*dnappings, m*rder, discussions of physics, h*mophobia, and s*x (with stancy in s1 & jancy in s2-s3). S2/3 discuss at their finalies recovering from tra*ma . S2 had gra*ic de*ths, a man causing a women br*in damage/ and faking her m*scarriage, and a gang of vigalantes k*lling criminals. s3 had critiques on capitalism /media/s*xism, many d*eaths, and questionable imagery like the prior seasons. The Duffers constantly reference movies & events from the 80s (capitalizing on 80s nostalgia /subverting 80s motifs that middle age people from that time remember)! Those people were their intended age demographic . Most 80s centric refs go over most kids’ heads (heck a lot went over my head too since I wasn’t alive in the 80s XD).The Duffers even said in the book “worlds turned upsidedown” “it’s not a kid’s show despite having kids”. And maybe it’s a coincidence but when Lucas in s3 hands Will the “devil’s baby” firework (a hint about Lonnie) he says “18 and over only.” Which idk is a weird/random af line unless it’s foreshadowing that the show will get darker about various themes- and maybe even change ratings.

I get people wishing nothing bad ever happened to Will or Jonathan. And being apprehensive and not trusting the Duffers to do such a story justice (cause it’s difficult to do). But personally i trust them to do so tastefully with tact and not be exp*itative, (overly gr*fic) or offensive to v*ctims. You can disagree and think the show is about something else (or not trust the Duffers)- but it’d be great if people could stop using these other messed up talking points. While trying to appear ‘(fake) woke’ and like they care for victims- cause we see through it that you really don’t.

Have a lovely day anon ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Update- I just really agreed with and appreciate the tags in this reblog

#tw: csa #tw:r*pe

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alarawriting · 4 years ago

Text

52 Project #34: The Anadvocate

She sat within a glade full of life, perched on top of death. Here at the equator of the Green World, the heat was intense enough that even she felt it, though shielding herself from the killing heat was instinctive, second nature by now. Rivulets of sweat ran down her dark skin, plastered her long black hair to her naked body. If she wanted to, she could increase her shielding, remove the heat from her person, but she simply couldn't bring herself to care.

Birds chirruped and cawed and cackled all around her. The air was full of the hum of insects and the cries of small reptiles. It lay around her, thick, humid, unstirring. From here she could not see the sky without using farsight-- all around her was green jungle, making the world dim. At the moment it wasn't raining, though that could change any minute now.

The things that lived here were adapted for the heat as Humans were not, as even Theclos were not without using their powers. There were very few mammals here; no need to be a creature who could retain body heat in a place so hot. No Green Worlder Humans, none of the Theclos' protected worshipers, lived within a thousand miles of this place. And while the Theclos could come here, they generally didn't-- too much work, to shield from such intense heat, for so little gain. The life that teemed around her wasn't sentient. If all of it died in a flash of murderous light, it would be no more than the Blue Worlders did to the life of their own world all the time.

It would be a reminder, a reproach to her people. And it would be no less than life deserved, when Istanya no longer lived.

The device seemed to pulse beneath her, a black sun waiting to be unleashed to devour all around it. It was a Blue World invention, a "clean" nuclear bomb. Which was to say, it would make the land radioactive for thousands of years, it would annihilate her and all the land for miles around and make a crater of glass visible even from orbit, it would produce a flash of destroying light that would blind anyone looking at it, but it would not pump fallout into the upper atmosphere and let it spread around the world to poison innocents. It would be her death and the death of the animals that lived in this jungle, no one else.

She had come here unobserved-- or at least, she hadn't sensed any observation, and usually they didn't bother to be subtle with her. So she assumed that, for the moment, no one was watching. Perhaps they'd grown tired of watching. Certainly they'd grown tired of listening-- assuming one could be said to have grown tired of something one had never done. If they'd ever listened, maybe it wouldn't have come to this.

I could do it, she thought, looking out at the jungle around her, feeling the smooth metal of the nuke underneath her, pressing against her skin. If I really wanted to. I could do it in a moment. No one would have time to stop me.

Do I really want to?

So alive, so vital, so vibrant, this jungle. So full of sound and smell and constant motion. And if she acted, if she triggered the bomb beneath her with her mental powers, it would be converted in a second into a giant glass tombstone. Her death would be painted in brilliant light across the sky, seen by thousands of Green Worlders who would look up at the light and wonder. And for thousands of years a crater of radioactive glass would lie in the center of the teeming jungle, visible only to her people, and to the Blue Worlders if they ever came here. A mute testimony to the destruction of a young and shining potential, a reproach to her people of their betrayal, their hypocrisy, a reminder of the danger of the Blue Worlders.

She wasn't entirely sure she wanted this. The grief that coiled blackly through her soul might abate, in a few hundred years-- she knew that. She wasn't foolish enough to believe she would always feel this empty, this lonely, this bitter. In time, she could recover and get on with her life, if she wanted to.

But if she ever recovered from her rage at her own kind, at the stupidity that had condemned those she loved and the hypocrisy that praised that stupidity-- if she could ever come to accept that, she'd be better off dead. They had betrayed everything they'd taught her to believe in. Perhaps it happened as one got older. Perhaps the ideals of one's youth, the belief in the superiority of their species and their moral codes, all retreated into the endless political games. She would very much rather be dead than live long enough for that to happen to her.

And it would be different if she had any hope of changing the system. She'd gladly live with the hypocrites if there was any chance at all she could make them understand what they'd done-- but they wouldn't listen. She was too young, they said. Not objective enough. If she were older, more distanced from the problem, surely she would understand why her father and her sister had had to die. It was a mercy, really. There was no other way. When she was older, she would understand.

Well, she wasn't going to get any older. If it took her death to make her voice heard, so be it. She would die spectacularly, immolate herself in the sight of millions, and leave behind her an eternal silent reproach. Really, what else could she do?

She focused her mind on the bomb beneath her, and prepared for oblivion.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

The voice behind her was that of an elder. So. She had been observed after all. And why should that come as a surprise? "You're not me," she said flatly. If she'd cared more, she might have started in surprise-- she'd never felt the warp of a teleport near her-- but elders were talented, and the truth was, she couldn't care enough to be surprised.

"True. But I'd suggest you shouldn't, either."

"And am I supposed to care what you suggest?" She turned her attention to face the other. He was indeed an elder, a very short man with deep black skin, like coal to her chocolate. She didn't immediately recognize him, but then, there were twelve thousand Theclos, and without being connected she couldn't possibly be expected to remember them all. His face was lined and weathered, his long hair was white and wispy, clouding around his face, and he wore nothing but a knee-length white linen skirt that did nothing to tell her his position of status. Very old, certainly very powerful-- he was hovering, not touching the dirt, and she could feel how effortless it was for him to hold himself there. Her lip curled with sarcasm. "Oh, excuse me. I am supposed to be groveling in the dirt that an elder would grace me with his presence, much less condescend to give me suggestions. Have I committed a social gaffe?"

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," he said. "You seem to have bigger things to worry about." The amused tone in his voice made it clear he put little stock in an elder's prerogatives.

"You're quite right. I do. So why don't you go away and leave me to them?"

"Let you annihilate yourself, not to mention all these plants and animals, without trying to talk you out of it? No no no no no. That's not the way I work. You should know better."

She scowled. "There's no people anywhere near this jungle. And Theclos who can murder their own kind have no right to weep over poor poor animals."

"Maybe not, but you are as bound to protect the Green World as the rest of us. That includes not wiping out all the life within miles simply because you feel like killing yourself."

"Fine. I'll go to the desert and finish myself off. Will that satisfy you?"

"Let's take this from the top," he said, floating over and sitting down next to her. She felt him focusing multiple levels of attention on her. The sensation made her uncomfortable, though she did her best to block it. "Why do you want to kill yourself?"

"Why pretend you don't know?" she countered.

"For the sake of argument, of course. I've heard you like to argue. Explain to me in plain, simple terms. What do you hope to accomplish?"

She turned away darkly. "This is stupid. You know perfectly well why I want to do this."

"But I don't, believe it or not. I haven't probed beneath your shields. I consider it rude." He smiled winningly, showing bright white teeth. She wasn't won.

"Doesn't matter. Unless you've sealed your mind and locked yourself in a cave for the past ten years, you know my situation."

“Oh, yes, I’d heard. Tragic, isn’t it.” He turned away from her with a studiedly bland expression. “Half-Blue Worlder, half-Theclos twins born where one of them is damaged, unable to connect to the Heart or draw power. And then the powerless twin tricks the empowered one into giving up her powers. Unfortunately resulting in her being captured on the Blue World and tortured, resulting in both her and her father needing to be put down. I imagine the remaining twin must feel a lot of guilt."

"That wasn't how it was!" Ramasyne screamed, knowing he was trying to provoke her, but unable to keep from being provoked. "I didn't make Istanya cut herself off from the Heart-- I begged her not to do it! I never said anything to make her do it! I never wanted--" She choked off the furious torrent of words, realizing she had walked directly into his trap.

"So you begged her not to do it. And she did it anyway." He shrugged. "Hardly sounds very stable. Maybe we're better off without her."

That one was far too blatant. She wasn't going to fall for it. "Refusing to obey your twin sister is hardly a marker of instability," she said icily.

"So why do you want to kill yourself?"

"Isn't it obvious to you, O Omniscient Elder?"

He shook his head. "Refusing to explain yourself, assuming your audience has read your mind, refusing to state the terms of the argument... bad form, child. Very bad. No wonder the Inquest discounted your testimony, if this is how you argue."

Her eyes narrowed coldly. "I didn't refuse to explain myself to the Inquest. I explained myself in great detail. At great length. A great number of times. And I just don't feel like going through it all again."

"So you're killing yourself because you're tired of arguing?"

"No!" she shouted. "I'm killing myself because they won't let me argue! Because no one wants to listen to me, no one wants to consider for one picosecond that I actually know what I'm talking about, that just because I'm young doesn't necessarily mean I'm stupid! I can't get them to listen to me!"

"And you think that if you kill yourself, they will feel guilty, and consider your final arguments in the light of your death."

She shrugged. "One can hope," she said sullenly.

"One can, if one's naive. If one knows any better, unfortunately, hope is out of the question. Do you know what your death will tell them?"

"That I have an overly developed sense for the melodramatic?"

"Everyone does. You’re a Theclos, it comes with the territory. No. What your suicide will tell them is that you are dangerously unstable, and that they made a mistake in not destroying you along with Istanya and your father. Is that what you want them to know?"

"Maybe it was a mistake," she snapped.

"Yes, but do you want them to know that? So soon? Before you've made them pay for the mistake?" He floated back up, shaking his head. "I assure you, your death won't embarrass the Convocation. Those who stood as Inquestors at the trial will merely observe that your mother’s insistence that you not be cured of your problem until you were nearly fully grown damaged you, possibly even worse than Istanya after what she suffered, and that you should have been put down with her. After all, a Theclos who can contemplate suicide can contemplate murder, can't she? Or genocide, perhaps?"

"I've been tested for genocidal tendencies more times than I care to count. I've come up clean each time."

"True. But emotional damage can take different forms in different Theclos. Can anybody guarantee that the next Theclos to see a sibling tortured won't turn genocidal? Your death will have proven the inherent instability in one who's suffered such a loss-- just as your father's attempt at genocide ‘proved’ that a Theclos whose child is destroyed is unstable and should be euthanized as well. This incident makes future law, you know. The eyes of all Mt. Kethos are on you. And if you kill yourself, you only prove your opponents' points. After all, how could a child who committed suicide have possibly been sane enough to make a logical argument? No, your points can all be put down to your incipient breakdown, and ignored. You could hardly do more damage to your argument if you went out and wiped out the Amerins."

"The Blue Worlders are barbarians," she muttered. "Am I supposed to blame primitives for being primitive? Oh, the Amerins are the worst. They think they're wonderfully advanced, and yet they can do..." Against her will, she remembered how she'd found her sister, what the Blue Worlders in that secret research installation in Ameria had done to her. How could even sick members of any sapient species imagine such horrors, let alone inflict them on another sapient being? "...what they did," she finished, sick at heart with the reminder.

“Sounds rather harsh. Are you sure you have no genocidal tendencies?”

“I’d like to make them realize what they are,” she admitted. “Mock them. Show them what a pathetic, barbaric little nation they really are. But genocide? No.” She looked up at him, her gaze burning in intensity. “It wasn’t Blue Worlders who killed my sister. It wasn’t even the traitor, though they’d never have taken Istanya if it weren’t for Vashtas. It was us. The glorious, powerful, vastly superior Convocation of the Theclos. We killed her-- for no greater crime than the stupidity to get herself captured by barbarians.”

“Stupidity is its own reward.”

“But she didn’t deserve it! She was a kid!” The old man’s expression quirked with amusement that she would so define her twin, when she’d just defined herself as old enough to be heard. “Yes, go on, laugh, but I know it. I am young. And I-- I’ve seen what the Green Worlders can do to each other, and the even more horrifying things that the Blue Worlders can do. I may be young, but I’m not naive. Is it a crime for a young person who’s never seen anything bad happen to anyone who matters to believe she’s indestructible? When for all intents and purposes she was?”

“She gave up being indestructibile. She chose it. She went to the Blue World, she went to Vashtas to block herself from the Heart, because she wanted to know what it was like to be powerless.”

Ramasyne shook her head violently. “She wanted to know what it was like to be me. She never understood--”

“Understood what?”

The girl’s voice was harsh. “All my life people have been trying to get me to resent my sister. Istanya herself didn’t understand. No one ever understood.” She looked up at him again. “I was never powerless. What it meant to be me wasn’t to be powerless. I was a girl with a Human for a mother, and my father and my sister were gods.” The bitterness in her voice brought it close to the breaking point-- but she was still in control. Breaking down would serve her no purpose here. She would stay in control. “Istanya did anything I wanted her to. She never dominated me. I dominated her. She and I had our link, and she was linked to the Convocation... to the Heart. I never thought of myself as being powerless. Never helpless, until--”

After a moment, he finished the statement for her. “Until she left you.”

She remembered the argument. She hadn’t understood why Istanya was so obsessed with this powers/no powers business. Admittedly, it was a nuisance that she had to ask Istanya if she wanted to do anything fun, but Istanya could read her mind, so it wasn’t like it was hard. Theclos children could, on occasion, be vicious to one another, and both she and Istanya were mocked sometimes for having a Human mother, especially one from the Blue World. But for the most part they found their pleasure in picking on those who could present a challenge. No child would dare touch a powerless one, especially not a powerless one whose twin sister was already at full adult strength. Not only was there no challenge-- no fun-- but it could get their butts kicked and get them in serious trouble with their parents. Ramasyne had, in fact, been perfectly free to taunt and argue with children far more powerful than she was, secure in the knowledge that if they got angry and attacked her physically there would be hell to pay. So she never suffered vulnerability, never suffered fear.

But Istanya was convinced that the world must look different to Ramasyne, that by not being connected to the Heart she was somehow… purer. More herself. The Theclos connected to the Heart formed the Convocation, the telepathic body of pure democratic rule within Mt. Kethos, where memories could be exchanged and all information could be shared, instantly, amongst the entire Theclos race. Ramasyne was connected to Istanya, but no other Theclos, not even Father. The incredible powers the Theclos wielded were mostly dependent on the connection to the Heart, and the Convocation; Istanya was sure that by not being connected to the Convocation, Ramasyne was a true Theclos, that the rest of them were… something else. Something she thought might possibly be inferior, for all their power.

Father had taught them to be independent-minded, that maintaining their own identity, even against the pressure of the Convocation, was the most important thing possible. Mother, who was Human and had no powers, had taught them both that the worth of a person wasn’t in their power. Both Mother and Father had refused the genetic therapy that could have connected Ramasyne to the Heart in early childhood, the way it happened for most of them; that meant the only option was to wait until her brain was full-grown – adult size, at least, if not fully developed – so that she could be given an implant. Ramasyne had taken this as “powers aren’t all that important and you have value as a person whether you’re powerful or not.” But Istanya had taken it differently.

Ramasyne had mostly mocked Istanya’s obsession with wanting to know what the world was like for her, Istanya’s insistence that it meant something beyond a missing piece of genetics that Ramasyne was her own person, telepathically isolated. She hadn’t thought Istanya would do anything about that obsession… until the day her father had teleported in and told him that Istanya had gone to the Blue World, and subsequently had gone missing.

The powers of the Theclos existed across the gap between the worlds – the Heart was everywhere and nowhere – but connection to the Convocation attenuated with distance. No one could reach Istanya’s mind, and there was no guarantee that any Theclos who went to the Blue World would be able to zero in on her. None of them had ever found the traitor Vashtas, when she’d fled to the Blue World, and they’d cut her connection to the Heart; she was powerless. If Istanya didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be.

Unless Ramasyne had a connection to the Heart. Unless Ramasyne had the power she could draw from the Heart, to amplify her connection to Istanya, and a connection to the Convocation, so she could guide the others.

Ramasyne was barely 120, then. Too young for the implant, too old for the genetic therapy even if she’d wanted it. She’d demanded the implant, over and over again. By Human standards, she’d have been the equivalent of an 11 or 12 year old child, barely into puberty by the narrowest of margins.

By now it had become obvious that Istanya had cut herself off from the Heart – something only the eldest leaders of the Convocation, and the traitor Vashtas, knew how to do. Despite this, every Theclos that Ramasyne knew had assured her over and over that Istanya could take care of herself, that there was no reason to think anything bad had happened, that it was her legal right to do this if she wished. While trying to claim that Ramasyne, at the exact same age, wasn’t mature enough to make decisions about her own brain and body.

Ramasyne had known better. Even when her father had tried to reassure her, Ramasyne was sure something terrible was happening. No one thought she could possibly know; no one thought her telepathic connection with Istanya could possibly be working at this distance, when neither of them were connected to the Heart. Her mother had spoken as if she was taking Ramasyne seriously, but advised patience, which was the last thing Ramasyne thought the situation needed.

Finally she’d gotten them to agree to the surgery. She was 125 then. They’d originally told her she’d need to be 150, but she kept having nightmares of what might be happening to Istanya. For the first time, she understood what it meant to be connected to the Convocation and the Heart, understood what she’d been missing and what Istanya had had, all her life-- but it didn’t matter. The powers were a means to an end. She had to find Istanya.

And in the end, she had still been powerless...

Ramasyne glared at the old man. “So if you know that, then why don’t you shut up with the deliberately provocative comments? You’re obviously just trying to rile me up.”

“Seems to have worked,” the elder said. “You’re answering my questions now. Some of them, at least.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. There will never be any justice. No one’s ever going to pay for killing Father and Istanya. No one’s ever even going to refuse to accept that as precedent; they’re all telling themselves how sadly necessary it is, how a parent whose child is tortured or murdered needs to be euthanized for the sake of the Humans, how this needs to be policy, when it was bullshit when it happened and it’s bullshit now. They think it was Father’s fault, what happened to Istanya. They think that if they put the right controls in place, none of their children or grandchildren will ever suffer… or they’re angry and envious that Father was allowed to procreate at all, and they want to punish Theclos who are given that opportunity.”

“And was it not your father’s fault? What happened to Istanya?”

Ramasyne shook her head. “Mother’s fault, maybe. She never told Istanya enough about the dangers; she acted like the Blue World was a perfectly normal place, like the Green World, not full of power-hungry monsters who could torture a child for five years to try to find the secret of her longevity and powers. Or maybe the entire Convocation, for locking away the important information about Vashtas so Istanya thought the woman was just an exile, not the horror she really was. The only thing Father did wrong was to not let me get the operation as soon as I asked, and I understand it. It’s not normal for a Theclos to need help or protection, not if they’re at full power. Even when they learned she wasn’t connected to the Heart, they were so used to us being invulnerable, it never occurred to them that something was seriously wrong… and I didn’t have my full powers as a Theclos. I don’t even know if I was really sensing Istanya, or if I was just worried and I happened to be right.”

“You don’t blame your father for not listening to you? At all?”

She looked down at the dirt. “What would be the point? He’s dead. If it was his fault, he suffered the ultimate price for it. His daughter was tortured, and murdered by the people who were supposed to save her, and then those people killed him too.”

“Well. You sound like you don’t think it was justified. Was he really going to annihilate that entire installation of Blue Worlders?”

Ramasyne hesitated. The elder took that as his answer. “And could you have stopped him?”

She hadn’t been able to stop him. The people who had worked there, who had been complicit in what had happened to Istanya – those, she wouldn’t have cared if he’d killed. But there were two government agents who were there to investigate, who were as horrified as the Theclos were at what they found, and there were janitors, and IT contractors who had no awareness of what the scientists at the installation were doing, and the people who restocked the vending machines, and people in the mail room, and none of them knew. None of them were complicit, because the secret agency torturing Istanya had classified everything they were doing so none of those people could have found out. They were innocent, and Father would have killed them all.

Who he should have killed were his fellow Theclos, the ones who decided that Istanya was too damaged and couldn’t be rehabilitated and should just be euthanized, like an animal, like someone who wasn’t even a Theclos, wasn’t even a person. The ones who held him and Ramasyne back, the ones who made Istanya sleep and then stopped her heart. But if Father had had the power to kill a group of his fellow Theclos, then Istanya would still be alive, because he would have protected her.

He’d been taking his rage at his daughter’s suffering and death out on the people he blamed for it, because he couldn’t take it out on the ones who’d actually killed her, and if he had limited his blame to only the people in the installation who knew what was going on and chose to work there anyway, and the traitor, Ramasyne would have supported him. But he’d wanted to destroy all the Blue Worlders in the installation, indiscriminately, and might have expanded to destroying as many Blue Worlders as he could reach, if the other Theclos hadn’t shut him down. Ramasyne had tried to stop him, but he hadn’t listened to her. He hadn’t listened to anyone. He’d cradled Istanya’s body, and murdered every Blue Worlder in the room but the two investigators, who Ramasyne had protected. And then the others had overpowered him and killed him.

“If they could knock him unconscious so they could stop his heart without hurting him, they could have knocked him unconscious and brought him back to Mt. Kethos for healing. They could have done the same for Istanya. We’d do that for a Green Worlder. We would never kill a Green Worlder for being a torture victim.”

“Green Worlders don’t have the power we do. We have a responsibility—”

“What, so we can’t ever be weak? We’re so superior that if we’re ever not so superior we need to die? We can cut people off from the Heart! A Theclos without a connection to the Heart could have all the genocidal tendencies they want, and no way to enact any of them! We let Vashtas live, but we had to kill my sister and father?”

“And do you have any theories? About why Vashtas was allowed to live, but Istanya and Rannelosom were killed?”

“Because other Theclos despised my father for taking a Human woman as his partner?”

“Sure, that might have been part of it. There’s also the possibility that Vashtas was arrested on Mt. Kethos, kept in isolation, tried, and her sentence carried out, long before she got anywhere near the Blue World, whereas both Istanya and Rannelosom were on the Blue World in an installation full of Humans. Perhaps no one was confident of their ability to keep either of them subdued long enough to get back to the Green World?”

“You weren’t there,” Ramasyne shot back. “They looked into Istanya’s mind, they saw how angry and fearful she was, and they just… they all agreed that there was no saving her. And Father and I both tried, but I’d had my powers for such a short time, I was no help. It just… all happened so fast.” She trailed off.

“Well.” The elder landed and sat in front of her, his legs in a meditation posture. “It happened and it’s over. So what do you want?”

“I want justice! Everyone who was involved in their deaths is immortal and will be part of the Convocation for thousands of years. Why is it fair that they get to live so long, with no consequences, when they killed my sister and my father? Why does the Convocation give them so much status and power?” Ramasyne stood up, finally, and paced, gesturing with her hands. “We’re supposed to be unified. The Convocation is supposed to be one body. We aren’t supposed to… we aren’t supposed to… We’re more advanced than the Humans. We don’t kill each other! We don’t do political maneuvering to destroy each other. We don’t… we don’t kill someone we should have taken home and taken care of…”

“But you know as well as I do that the Convocation, as it currently stands, does do that. And that the ones who killed your family are of high status, and will never see justice, if the Convocation remains as it is now.”

“And that’s why I planned to blow myself up,” she said sullenly.

“I can see why you thought that was a good idea. But there is a better alternative.”

She looked down at him, sneering. “Oh, I’m all ears.”

“Do you know who I am?”

For the first time in weeks, Ramasyne touched the data store of the Convocation, where all the knowledge held by all the Theclos was kept. “You’re Elder Prullelleh,” she said. “The chief anadvocate of the Convocation… what is an anadvocate?”

Prullelleh’s smile was so big his teeth almost glowed. “I am so glad you asked that,” he said, and she realized she’d fallen into a trap. At the very least, this was what he’d been aiming for when he began this conversation.

“Never mind. I don’t care.”

“You do care. You’re very curious, in fact.”

“I thought you said you weren’t probing under my shields.”

“You’re so focused on your shields. On protecting yourself from telepathy. You didn’t guard your face, Theclos Ramasyne. I saw your curiosity, before you masked it.”

“I saw how much you wanted to tell me, and I lost interest. Anything an elder wants so much has to be a terrible idea.”

“So you have no interest in changing the Convocation? At making us a people more compassionate to our own, more capable of understanding that even Theclos can be weak, and we deserve no less from each other than we would give one of our Green World petitioners? That we are not, in truth, gods, for all our power and all our immortality and all the Green World tribes and clans that look to us as such, but we are in fact biological entities with limitations and needs, just like the Humans?”

She glared at him. “Of course I’d be interested, if it’s a thing that could be done.”

“It is a thing that can be done. It might take five hundred years, but it’s certainly a thing that could be done. But if you’re bound and determined to kill yourself now, you’ll never find out how you could do it.” Prullelleh stood again, floating just centimeters off the ground. His eye level was still below hers, even with that. “The Convocation is like a mind united, correct? When we are in session, when we are all connected to each other, we present our ideas to each other, and they are all supposed to be equal in weight, correct? Ideally?”

“I’ve never seen them be equal in weight.”

“Neither have I,” the elder said. “Those of us who play politics the best, who recruit friends and allies, who rise to high status… their ideas hold the greatest of weight. And those who agree with their ideas are drawn into their circle, sharing in their status. Those who disagree, fall in favor. There may be factions, but even factions hold a received wisdom in common, a shared worldview. And if someone falls outside that worldview, their opinions are nothing.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I’ve come for.” He was now floating directly in front of her. When she tried to turn her head away, he followed her, floating into her field of vision again.

Finally, infuriated, Ramasyne threw her arms up. “Fine! I won’t be free of you until you tell me what you’ve come for, obviously!”

“An anadvocate,” Prullelleh said, “is a Theclos whose role within the Convocation, whose job, is to argue against whatever ideas are presented by the leaders of highest status. To act as a firebreak to prevent us from following some charismatic leader down some horrific, foolish path.”

“Then why didn’t you do something?” Ramasyne snapped. “This wasn’t horrifying enough for you?”

“There were ten of us, in the beginning,” Prullelleh said. “It’s a very difficult job. It cuts you off from the rest of the Convocation. You don’t make friends. Many of us quit and joined the mainstream of the Convocation. We tried to recruit young ones, but… over time, our role’s fallen out of favor. More and more, the Convocation wants everyone to agree. The idea is presented that we should all be in harmony, and ‘harmony’ means that we are all united in thought. Those of us who stand against that harmony, who are the grit slowing down the flywheel of ridiculous ideas… we have been rejected, taunted, looked down on. Eventually it was down to two – Vashtas and me. And you know what happened after that.”

“Vashtas was a member of your little club?”

He shrugged. “It’s one of the potential issues anadvocates face. Many of us who weren’t dedicated enough to being adversarial gave up being anadvocates. And it turns out that some of us who are dedicated to being adversarial… are in fact adversaries. It doesn’t change the importance of the work.”

“And you’re here to recruit me. For a position that was last held by the woman who betrayed my sister and got her captured and experimented on for five years.”

“Vashtas betrayed the Anadvocacy, too.” Prullelleh shook his head. “But the truth is, I had been thinking throughout your childhood that, if you should become what I expected you to be, that you might be the best possible candidate for an anadvocate that I’ve ever seen.”

“You expected my sister to get killed?” Ramasyne asked in a low, angry voice.

“No. Of course not. But I expected that when you were finally old enough to have your surgical implant, you would feel… detached from us. Most Theclos children join the Convocation when they’re ten years old, barely out of infancy. Even the late bloomers come in around fifty. You were a hundred and twenty-five before you joined the Convocation. It was never a part of you, like it was for most of us. Your link to Istanya was a part of you. The Convocation is not, and it never would have been even if you didn’t blame us for your family’s deaths.”

“…I’m part of the Convocation.”

“Of course you are, but it isn’t a part of you. If everyone in the Convocation disagreed with you, would that change your opinion on a matter?”

Ramasyne snorted. “Haven’t we just finished discussing that?” She picked up rocks from her feet with her telekinesis and flung them.

“You’re not worried about those hitting someone?” the elder asked.

“There are no Humans in this rainforest. I checked,” Ramasyne said. “And don’t change the subject, you know perfectly well that right now, everyone in the Convocation does disagree with me.”

“What if they disagreed with you about a matter that didn’t affect you personally? Would you feel uncomfortable, having an opinion that the rest of the Convocation disagrees with?”

Ramasyne laughed harshly. “It’s been the story of my life so far, why would it be any different then?”

Prullelleh grinned. “Yes, that was exactly what I thought. I never expected your sister to die, though. I expected you might come into conflict with her, as the Convocation pressured her into agreement, and that would be your only weak point. With her dead, and the Convocation responsible… you may be stronger than any anadvocate there has ever been, including myself, and I was the one who created the office two thousand years ago.”

“So.” Ramasyne finished throwing rocks and turned back to Prullelleh. “Would I have to argue against everything? What if I actually believe in the thing?”

“You choose the arguments you’ll make. You have no obligation to make any argument you don’t want. But arguing against the positions you believe in can strengthen them. If you are certain that the position you hold is strong, and you believe in the arguments for the position, you can make arguments against the position and be confident that all you will do is prove that the position is correct, because the only arguments against it are plainly weaker than the arguments for, or why would you hold that position?”

“…I’m not certain it will always work that way,” Ramasyne muttered.

“Ramasyne. This isn’t a job, like Blue Worlders have. You don’t have a superior to report to. I will try to mentor you, to the extent I can, but I chose you in the first place because I know you will not be swayed by a bad argument just because someone powerful is making it. If you aren’t moved to argue against a point, then don’t. You’re an adult now, a full member of the Convocation.”

“No one else thinks so.”

“Well, you’re barely a hundred fifty, and some of us are more than two thousand years old. But you have no guardian among the Theclos anymore. You are officially considered an adult and a full member of the Convocation regardless of how the others treat you. You would be my partner and fellow, not my employee or apprentice.”

“And is there any reason I can’t argue for positions I am personally involved in?”

“You’ll be taken less seriously than ones where you’re disinterested, but of course, you can make any argument you wish.”

“…I’ve been doing nothing but arguing against them for twenty-five years… I suppose there’s no reason not to take the position you’re trying to recruit me for.”

“I think you’ll find it will be a far better use of your gifts and resources than blowing yourself up.”

“Yeah.” She almost-smiled, wryly. “Let me get rid of this thing.”

A quick teleport to the top of Mt. Kethos – eleven miles tall, jutting out of the Green World into the stratosphere – to leave the bomb within the secure vault of confiscated Human weapons, and she was back. “Okay, Elder Pru. When do we get started?”

Prullelleh chuckled at the nickname. “I believe that perhaps you’ve already begun.”

#52 project #the green world #theclos ramasyne #tw: suicidal ideation

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Stolen - 26

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!gifted!reader Content: A sort of calm before the storm. No proof reading at all. A/N: Hey! So, GISH happened. And I’ve returned to work but under special conditions, thankfully. Also I might be very distracted from this fic due to a new hyper fixation – blame my husband for that! Ask or re-blog for tag.

26. Cupid Carries a Gun

... Reader ...

The word pissed does not even begin to describe what you’re feeling but at least you have the satisfaction of the weather matching your anger. Sitting in the queen’s parlour in the middle of the day, it has still been necessary to light candles all around while the dark storm outside pelts the windows with rain. Now and then a flash proceeds a roll of thunder, making you wonder if bad weather in Asgard are just a thing of nature or if it always requires Thor to be busy. Mostly though, you curse Loki.

“Where’s your mind at?” A book taps you lightly on top of your head, calling you back to the present.

“My apologies, your highness,” you mumble. Man, I gotta be such a disappointment right now.

Whatever she might think or not, the woman smiles sweetly as she puts the books and parchments away. “Perchance it would soothe your troubled mind if you told me what is wrong?” She stops your protests with a graceful hand. “What has he done this time?”

“...uhm?”

“My son. Over the years, I’ve had to deal with many whom he’s vexed. Mostly Thor, of course...” For a moment Frigga is the one lost in past events. “So...let me hear it.”

I can really, really NOT tell her that! Heat rises in your cheeks, possibly blocking your airways to prevent any words from escaping. “Nonono, it’s okay! Really! There’s no need -”

“Ah, I see...it’s what he didn’t do...”

I need to change the focus of this conversation! “He uhm he magicked me to sleep!”

A devilish smirk graces the queen’s face. “Do you want to get even or do you want to prevent it from happening again?”

“Both?” If that’s an option.

“Fortunately for you, this distraction is well timed. As you know, none of the lore and theoretical works I’ve procured has been of much use yet, and your description of your gift’s flow has gotten me thinking of the Älfir powers of old. I have managed to find one tome, however the translation is not completed.” She pulls you to your feet, urging you towards the softer seats rather than the desk. “Perhaps, what I will teach you now about Loki is of better use, even.”

... Loki ...

She should be back by now. The raven-haired man scowls at the setup of the room: everything is perfectly clean, a thick log is burning happily in the fireplace, and a light snack awaits on the little table near [Y/N]’s favourite chair. All that’s missing is...her.

Naturally, Frigga could have chosen to extend the lesson’s time frame or perhaps invite the guest to participate in some social hubbub. Loki would like that. It’s a much more comfortable thought than if the Midgardian has been swept away by the Warriors Three, for instance. Or his brother.

As evening creeps in, it becomes increasingly difficult to remain optimistic. Maybe she has decided to leave on her own accord? The new concern is uncomfortable the way it gnaws at his heart.

Purposely staying out of [Y/N] way, he had observed her discreetly during the morning, praising himself for the sensible decision to do so because the woman was seething with anger and he had no illusions: it was due to his actions. After all, Hel hath no fury like a woman scorn. And so, it’s with a smidgen of anxiety in his guts that he conjures the disguise and sets out to find the stubborn woman in question.

Scurrying along the hidden passages, he asks the few servants he encounters on the way to the queen’s chambers initially before the gardens, the arched balustrade over viewing the courtyard, and eventually the grand hall. That’s where he finally gets a useful reply.

“The lady is at the library,” a maid informs.

Oh, really?

... Reader ...

There aren’t a lot of books you can read in the Asgardian palace library but in all honesty, you didn’t end up in one of the plush seats in the corner for the sake of the literature but rather due to the quiet. Frigga has given you a lot to think about on top of a practical assignment.

“A song for light,” you mutter under your breath, staring at your fingers which are doing anything but create a glow, “light...light....”

You’re too caught up to notice a slinking figure watching you through the nearest bookcase. If I were a glow worm, what would I sound like? But the only experience you have with things that both sing and shine is Lumiere and you’re fairly sure belting out “Be Our Guests” won’t do much good in this case.

“Perhaps milady ought to retire for the evening?” a warped voice startles you.

Freaking stealth-god! He might not sport the usual mesmerizingly green eyes, but you know it’s Loki simply due to the way he looks you over. Well, keep looking ‘cause you don’t own me and you can’t order me to do anything. Ha! The silence stretches, and you recognize the beginning ticks revealing the Asgardian’s impatience – no disguise can hide that – and you have to bite back a smile as you turn to look out the tall window again.

“Lady [Y/N],” he tries again, this time stepping over to stand right next to you.

Waving a hand dismissively, you send a thankful thought to Frigga. “Not now, I’ve got some...things on my mind.”

“Allow me to ease the mental burden.” Only a thin veil separates the sarcasm from being too obvious.

The footsteps of someone coming nearer reduces the simmering standoff to silent glares, then a librarian rounds the bookcase and bows discreetly to you, informing that he will take his leave unless you have any requests. Oh, it’s tempting to invent some reason for the man to stay, forcing Loki to keep up the charade, but for the life of you you can’t think of anything and have to watch him walk away.

“Thought you could escape me by coming here, hmm?” the god hisses into your ear.

It sends shivers down your back which you do your best to suppress. “I’m not surprised you don’t know this but I actually like reading. I love books. Perhaps you should have bothered to learn a bit before assuming you’ve got me figured out.”

His eyes gleam and a grin begins to split his face. “Is that so? You presume I do not know you?”

“Fine! What’s my favourite food?” When he doesn’t answer, you power on: “Yours was roasted duck with figs and nuts when you were little. On Alfheim, you seemed to adore the salad with warmed goat cheese and honey.”

“That wasn’t goat cheese.” He doesn’t manage to derail the conversation so he tries with a new tactic, lowering his voice to an obscenely sensual level. “What I do know is how your breathing hitches as I pinch your nipples. It’s no secret to me that your hips would buck if I were to slip my fingers between your soaked folds...and, my pet, even now the scent of your arousal is rising as rapidly as last night.”

“Yet all you do is talk,” you bite back, “empty words but nothing to show for it!”

You know you’ve pushed him past that line the history books and hindsight so clearly shows when his eyes grow dark, emerald and ruby peeping through the illusion. His fingers tangle into your hair while the other hand pulls the glowing cube from the air and the world is obscured by the cloud of magic.

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gaaruto-kage · 5 years ago

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Bad Ideas - Kakashi x Reader

I hope that you don't think I'm rude

But I want to make out with you

And I'm a little awkward, sure

But I could touch my face to yours, oh

For the fourth time in the same amount of days, you found yourself ducking behind the nearest object as quick as you could in order to hide from someone. Not just anyone, though, you were hiding from the one and only Kakashi Hatake. You squeezed further into the doorway as Kakashi walked past your not-so-great hiding place hoping the long evening shadows would keep him from noticing you. Luckily he didn’t seem to, so you let out a long sigh of relief as you watched him round a corner further up the street. This couldn’t go on forever, you thought to yourself. Kakashi and you would end up working together again at some point, as was the nature of your jobs, and beyond that he was your friend, so this awkwardness you felt around him had to stop as soon as possible.

And no one ever called me smooth

But I just wanna see the grooves

Between your hands, your teeth, oh

Tell me, do you think about me?

You could not get the words Kakashi whispered to you the other day out of your head. It had been a long day of training with your respective teams so the two of you, along with Kurenai, Asuma, and Guy, decided to unwind a bit with some ramen and sake. It started off normal enough, with the five of you talking about your day, laughing when Guy challenged Kakashi to three different competitions, each one more ridiculous than the last, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. One by one your friends all left until it was just you and Kakashi left. He had drunk a bit more than usual, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he got home okay, not to say you didn’t think he could handle anything that could possibly happen ever if he was drunk. Regardless, the two of you walked towards his home together continuing the conversation from the ramen shop, words only dying out once you made it to his front door.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Kakashi. Hopefully you don’t have too bad of a hangover in the morning,” you said. You moved to turn away, but immediately his hand shot out to grab your arm and stop you from leaving.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go yet,” Kakashi said, his words slurring together just the slightest bit. You turned back to face him and were about to ask why he wanted you to stay, but before you could, you were suddenly wrapped up in his arms in a very un-Kakashi bear hug.

“Kakashi, what- what are you doing?” you stuttered out, confused. He mumbled something into your neck, the movement tickling you. “I can’t understand what you’re saying,” you said through a giggle. He pulled away so you could see his face, but still held you in his arms. The intensity of his eyes looking into yours made you shudder.

“You’re so beautiful, can I kiss you?” he repeated in a whisper. You tried to respond but it took you a few tries before any actual words came out.

“Kakashi, I- you’re drunk, you don’t mean that.”

“I may be drunk, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re beautiful right now. I’ve always thought you were beautiful, and you’ve only grown more so each day that I’ve known you.” He paused for a moment just looking at you, then opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, but no words came out. You turned away from him to try and hide the blush that had creeped its way across your face. His grip tightened around your wrist in an attempt to keep you from leaving, but you panicked and ran down the road, not knowing what else you could or should do in this unexpected situation.

I just wanna kiss you

And even if I miss you

At least I'll know what it's like to have held your hand, oh

After your near-run in with Kakashi, you walked home, shoulders slumped and feeling dejected. Why did he have to go and say those things? Sure you thought Kakashi was handsome, but your mind never wandered further than that before. Now it took all you had to stop thinking about what would feel like for him to kiss you, your hands tangled up in his wild hair while his held onto your waist. You knew it could never happen because there was a chance it could ruin your friendship and your working relationship, and you could not put your personal feelings above your duty to the village. Despite this, you let yourself indulge in these daydreams more often than you probably should. More than once you found yourself thinking about his mouth on yours when you had more important things going on.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

After staring at the wall for what seemed like ages, you groaned and sat up in bed to take a look at the clock. It read 2:14am. For hours you just tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, and you still had so much more of the night to go. You cursed the man whose silver hair and mismatched eyes you saw every time you closed your eyes. If he was going to occupy your mind at night, the least he could do is be in your dreams, rather than keeping you awake. You rolled over and pulled your pillow over your head as if that could block out the incessant thoughts, subconsciously leaving enough room for another person to fit in bed with you. You didn’t know how long it took, but eventually you fell asleep, though not quickly enough to get enough rest for the next day.

I don't know what compels me

To do the very thing that fells me

I wake up, still high on you

But by the night, I'm crashing through, so

You woke up to a summons from the Hokage to meet with her in her office, so you quickly got dressed and headed over to the Hokage Residence, running into Asuma and Kurenai on the way. They had recieved summons as well. When you all arrived Tsunade was sitting at her desk and to your surprise, Kakashi and Guy were standing in front of the desk. Guy seemed to be saying something to Kakashi, but the second you walked through the door it became apparent that Kakashi had stopped listening to him. He seemed as if he was going to take a step towards you but hesitated and instead turned to face Tsunade. The rest of you lined up to face her as well.

“Thank you all for getting here so quickly; I know my message came on very short notice,” Tsunade began. “I have a mission for some of you, and whoever does not go on this mission I would like to take over training of the others’ teams for the duration. Several shinobi from the Village Hidden in the Rocks have been seen camping just outside of our borders and while they haven’t done anything in the way of attacking our village yet, they also have not come to talk to me and that just doesn’t sit right. I would like some reconnaissance done to figure out what is going on. Kakashi and Guy have already volunteered to help me out with this, so Asuma, Kurenai, Y/N, which of you would like to join them and which would like to take on a few extra students for a little while?”

Asuma and Kurenai looked at each other without speaking, and before you could think about it you broke the silence yourself.

“I’ll help Kakashi and Guy with the reconnaissance.” As soon as the words slipped out you mentally berated yourself. You had been trying to keep away from Kakashi, why would you volunteer to go on a mission with him where the only other person you could interact with for who knows how long would be Guy? And the mission, you shouldn’t have jeopardized that when you know you’d be distracted the whole time. But it was too late, you already volunteered your services and now you had to deal with the consequences. Tsunade nodded at you.

“Thank you Y/N. Kurenai and Asuma, you can decide between the two of you which students you’ll each be teaching for the time being. As for the three of you, I trust you to come up with and execute your own plan for gaining information on our guests and that you will tell me anything you think I need to know.” With that you were all dismissed from the Hokage’s office.

Kurenai and Asuma walked down the hall, presumably to discuss their new temporary students, leaving the three of you on your own. You definitely did not want to be around Kakashi for any extended period of time, but at least Guy was there to act as a sort of buffer. If something was off between you and Kakashi, which it definitely was considering you refused to even look in his general direction or address him directly, Guy certainly was not picking up on it. Even so, the three of you managed to come up with a decent plan for your mission, which involved having a sort of home base at your home because it was right on the border of the village near where the mysterious Rock Village shinobi had set up their camp. You all agreed that Guy and Kakashi would gather anything they might need and meet you at your home later in the day.

Why I'd wanna kiss you

Even though I miss you

Guess I just want to know what it would feel like, oh

The second you got back to your apartment, you began pacing. Why, why, why would you put yourself in literally the most uncomfortable situation you could think of, given your current circumstances? This lasted for several minutes, before you realized you had your own things to get together and deal with before your partners on this mission arrived. You managed to lose yourself in thoughts of the mission ahead, so much so that you didn’t realize how quickly time was passing until there was a sharp knock on your door. Please be Guy, please be Guy, please be Guy, you thought to yourself as you walked over to open the door and - it was Kakashi. Of course. You mumbled something not even coherent to yourself and moved aside to let him in. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him, so instead you just faced the closed door as you heard him put his stuff down somewhere behind you.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, not a hint of questioning in his voice.

“No, I-” you began. You realized lying to him now would be pointless, so you sighed and turned around, but still didn’t look at him. Instead you stared at the floor. “Yes,” you admitted.

You looked up at Kakashi. He was standing in the doorway to your kitchen, leaning against the door frame. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes. You both paused waiting for the other one to say something. He broke the silence first.

“What have I done wrong? What did I do to make you hate me so much that you’ve been avoiding me for nearly a week?” The hint of pain in his voice made you immediately feel like shit. You knew Kakashi wasn’t one to let onto his emotions that often, so you knew you really must have hurt him with the way you’ve been acting. You quickly shook your head, taking a step closer to him but not wanting to get too near.

“No, you’ve got this all wrong. I don’t hate you, Kakashi,” you assured. “I just- do you remember the other day when we all went out drinking and I walked you home?” He nodded. “Do you remember what you said to me when we got to your house?” This time he shook his head.

“I mean, I remember us talking, and then you ran away pretty fast, but I don’t really remember the specifics of the conversation. That’s why I thought you hated me, because I said something that upset you. I’ve been beating myself up these past few days, thinking I’ve ruined our friendship somehow,” he admitted. “So, what did I say to you to make you run away and avoid me?” You didn’t know how to respond, but luckily you were saved by one Might Guy suddenly bursting through the door.

“You two didn’t start the spying party without me, did you?” he joked, making you giggle. You silently thanked him for relieving some of the tension, even though you knew that you and Kakashi would have to deal with this unfinished business sooner or later.

The three of you went over your plan again and then set out to get into the positions you had planned on for watching the Rock Village shinobi. There were three vantage points on different sides of their camp that were far enough away that unless one of them was specifically looking for you or had a special jutsu that allowed them to detect where you were you wouldn’t be seen, but they were also close enough that if something went wrong you could make it to the camp or to one of your partners quickly. Thus began a long day of watching literally nothing happen, as the shinobi just seemed to be chilling out in their camp.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

That night, well after the sun had set, you and Kakashi returned to your home, with Guy staying behind to hold down the fort overnight. He had napped during the day while you two kept watch, so he insisted he was fine to keep going. You didn’t bother to argue because you were tired and a little worried about the fact that the shinobi had done nothing worth noting all day. Were they still planning some sort of attack on the village? Did they already have a plan and were now just waiting for the perfect time to strike? Either way, you knew you wouldn’t be in shape for any fighting if you didn’t get a good night’s sleep, and though you offered to sleep in the field in case anything happened, Guy assured both you and Kakashi that you would be close enough to help should he need you for anything. So that was how you ended up alone with Kakashi once again. Without a word, he took a spare blanket out of your closet and started rolling it out on the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m setting up a place for me to sleep. I figured it would be fine using this blanket, but I’m sorry I should have asked,” he responded. He sat down on the blanket as if to get comfortable, but didn’t yet lie back.

“You can sleep in my bed, if you’d like to. I don’t want you to sleep on the hard floor if you don’t have to.” You felt bad for him after mistreating him all week, the last thing you wanted to do was make him physically uncomfortable on top of the emotional stuff.

“If I sleep in your bed, then where would you go?” he questioned. He cocked his one visible eyebrow in a gesture that showed he already knew the answer before you gave it.

“Well, I’d sleep on the floor, I guess.” He shook his head.

“I’m not gonna let you sacrifice your comfort for my own, Y/N.” You hesitated before responding.

“Well, we could always both sleep in my bed,” you said meekly. He gave an incredulous look, so you hurried to explain your reasoning. “The bed is big enough for the both of us to be in it without feeling crammed, you know. And that way neither of us will be in pain in the morning from sleeping on the floor.” You were certain he wouldn’t accept your offer, so you were shocked when he stood up and moved the blanket that was on the floor over to on your bed.

“That makes sense to me. Thank you, Y/N.”

The two of you finished getting ready for bed in silence before climbing into opposite sides of the bed. You were practically hanging off the side of it for fear that you would accidentally bump your body into Kakashi’s.

“So, is there any chance you’re willing to talk about why you’ve been avoiding me now that we’re alone?” he asked. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Kakashi. I can’t. I will soon, I promise. Just, not right now.” He let out a sigh and you could tell he was disappointed, but he didn’t push the matter any further. Soon you could hear a gentle snoring sound that meant he had fallen asleep, but the thoughts swirling around your head kept you awake and staring at the ceiling for a few more hours before you finally drifted off to sleep.

Smitten's a bad look on me

And if I'm talking honestly

It takes everything I got not to text, and

I just want a kiss to get me through

'Cause now all my bed-sheets smell like you, so

You woke up to your back pressed up against something and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Naturally, you screamed. This made Kakashi, the owner of the arms wrapped around you and the thing your back was pressed against (his chest), instantly wake up and fall off the bed in shock. Your hands instantly went to your mouth as you gasped.

“Well, good morning to you too,” he grumbled as he picked himself up off of the floor.

“Kakashi, I’m so sorry, I woke up and you being there scared me!” you explained.

“Y/N, you’re the one who invited me to sleep in your bed, why would me being there scare you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head where he hit it against your bed on the way down.

“Well yeah I know, I just didn’t expect you to be spooning me!” At that, his face turned red as a beet.

“Spooning? What do you mean I was spooning you?”

“I mean I woke up with you cuddled up behind me with your arms around me, what else would I mean?” you answered, exasperated. This was not how you planned on starting the morning.

“I… was not aware I was doing that, I’m sorry. Um, I’m gonna go grab something for breakfast,” Kakashi said before all but running out of the room. Not thirty seconds later he called for you to come out there.

That was how you came to find Might Guy sleeping on the floor of your kitchen with six tied up and possibly unconscious or else just unmoving Rock Village shinobi. Kakashi nudged Guy with his foot, making him immediately jump to his feet into a fighting stance.

“Ha! Oh, you two. Have a good night’s sleep?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Guy, what happened? Why are these shinobi on my kitchen floor?” you questioned.

“Right! Well, shortly after you left last night they all started moving around their camp, which I thought was weird because we had seen them all go to bed hours earlier and it was also very late. Once I saw them gathering quite a lot of weapons and strapping them to their persons, I knew something shady was going on. There were only six of them, so I figured I would be fine fighting them on my own, so I didn’t bother going to get you guys. Once I took care of them, I brought them back here. Don’t worry though, I left a note at the Hokage Residence to let everyone know what was going on and to tell them where they can find these six. I expect someone should be around shortly to pick them up,” he explained with the utmost confidence, as if what had transpired was the most normal thing in the world to happen.

“Okay,” Kakashi said. “Okay, well Guy, why don’t you stay here and wait for them. Y/N, do you want to go for a walk? Clearly we’re not needed here.”

“Yes, let’s go,” you agreed. You got dressed and ready for the day as quick as you could, and as you and Kakashi left out your front door, Guy called out a farewell.

“See you later you two! Have fun!” he said with his signature grin and a wink. Maybe he did realize something was up.

If you think you miss me

Come on back and kiss me

I just gotta know what you and I would feel like, oh no, hey

You and Kakashi walked around town, occasionally exchanging words but for the most part you were just walking in silence. You stopped at a stand to get some fresh fruit for breakfast and then continued your directionless wandering. Eventually you ended up in a part of the woods that many team leaders, you and Kakashi included, took your teams to for training. There were three logs sticking vertically out of the ground, and Kakashi jumped up to sit on top of one. He gestured for you to come closer, so you joined him by sitting on another of the logs.

“So, are we going to talk now?” he asked. You looked away into the distance, steeling yourself to face the truth before facing him.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” you answered. “The other day when I walked you home, it isn’t just what you said to me, it’s how you said it and what you did while you were saying it. It was just a really weird experience and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

“Y/N, really, if I did anything to offend you, then I apologize a thousand times. Can you please just tell me what I said and did since I don’t remember?” he pleaded.

“Okay, well, it started off when I tried to leave and you kind of just grabbed my arm to keep me from going. You basically pulled me around in order to hug me which caught me so off guard. Then, you called me beautiful and said you wanted to kiss me. I was so shocked that I ran, but ever since then I haven’t been able to get the thought of us actually kissing out of my mind. I mean, it’s gotten to the point where I’m losing sleep over it and it’s starting to drive me crazy.” You started speaking so quickly to just get the words out that by the time you got to the end of it you didn’t know what you were saying. It took you a second to realize what you just admitted.

Yikes

Kakashi laughed. He laughed! Here you were, spilling your most mortifying secret to the one person that secret actually affects, and he was laughing at you!

“Is that all?” he asked.

“What do you mean is that all?” you practically yelled. “This has been tormenting me for a week!” He just chuckled again.

“You should have just talked to me about it and I would have cleared it up. I really do think you’re beautiful. It wasn’t just me saying things while drunk, although I do wish the first time I told you was when I was sober. I’d been thinking about it - thinking about you - a lot lately, so I guess drunk me just got impatient and let the cat out of the bag.”

You didn’t know how to react, so you looked down at your feet and said the one thing you could think of. “Oh.”

“Do you mean that though? You’ve been thinking about kissing me?” he asked, sounding a lot more timid than he was before.

“I mean… yeah. A handsome man tells me that he thinks I’m beautiful and he wants to kiss me, why wouldn’t I think about that?” you scoffed as if it were obvious. He reached over and grabbed your hand, causing you to look up at him. He was leaning closer to you than he had been before.

“In that case, Y/N, I am completely sober and I think you are insanely beautiful. Can I please kiss you?” he whispered, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered back. You reached up to pull down his mask before your lips met in a tender, sweet kiss, the first of many.

Bad ideas

I know where they lead

But I got too many to sleep

And I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

And if tomorrow makes me low

Well it'd be worth it just to know

'Cause I can't get enough, no

I wanna kiss you standing up

________________________________________________________________

This is the first fanfic I’ve written in about a year and a half. After listening to Tessa Violet’s album non-stop I just felt really inspired, and so this happened. It feels really good to write something for myself instead of for school.

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto reader insert #kakashi reader insert #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #reader insert #bad ideas #tessa violet #song fic

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mischiefandi · 4 years ago

Text

My Blog in 2021 <3

Hi everyone!!

I’ll be writing again soon and I wanted to give you guys some information on what I’m gonna be doing on here from now on. There’s gonna be a few changes to how I’ll be handling my blog and my writing which is why I’m making this post so everything makes sense and you know what’s coming <3

everything is below the cut ! ( this is quite a serious post ngl :)

Fandoms

As you’ve probably seen on my blog these past few weeks, I’ve fallen back in love with the Harry Potter universe and I’ve decided I will be writing fanfiction about Harry, Fred Weasley, and the Marauders (Wolfstar content, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, and some Marauders headcanons). I will still be writing for Peter Parker in the MCU fandom and I will also be writing for Drake Walker from the Choices fandom. However, I’ve decided that after I finish my series “A Shitty Love Song” (Stiles Stilinski x Reader), I will officially stop writing for Stiles.

He’s still one of my comfort characters but I don’t feel as inspired anymore and because Teen Wolf ended so long ago now, I just don’t feel the same love for it as I used to. I will definitely still reblog gif sets and shitposts about Teen Wolf!! and I will not stop talking about Stiles on my blog lmao but I won’t be writing about him anymore. I know a lot of people follow me for that, so I apologise if you feel let down or disappointed.

I really appreciate all the love and the support you guys have been surrounding me with ever since I joined the Teen Wolf fandom, and I still love yall and will gladly discuss the show with you guys!! Thank you for understanding, I really hope you’ll still enjoy my blog and my content!

NSFW Content

Because I was a minor up until last August, I wasn’t comfortable with writing smut or NSFW content. My views on NSFW content on tumblr have changed a lot in the past few months and I have realised that I am now responsible for the content that I decide to share with readers and followers. I am 18 years old and I now feel comfortable writing smut, meaning I will be posting NSFW fics on my blog starting now. However, I would like to make some things clear:

If you are under 18 years old, I ask that you do not interact with my NSFW content. You are allowed to read my other fanfiction and you are allowed to interact with my blog and with me, however, my NSFW content is off limits. I know that this won’t necessarily make sense to everyone, and I know people will be upset, but this is a boundary I will enforce for your own protection as well as my own. I really am sorry if you feel disappointed or feel excluded, but smut is written pornography and there is a reason why the law prohibits minors from interacting with it.

As a legal adult, I do not feel comfortable supplying minors with sexual content. All minors, including my friends/mutuals, will be blocked if they interact with my NSFW content, so I ask again: please do not interact with my NSFW content if you are under 18, regardless of where you live, where you’re from, and regardless of your past sexual experiences. I will not be making exceptions and this isn’t up for discussion. I really do not want to be rude or act pretentious, but this really is a necessity and I will be taking this seriously.

Like I said, I will now start writing smut, however I will only be writing smut about 18 year olds and above. I do not feel comfortable writing smut about minors, even if they are 16-17. I know that minors engage in sexual behaviour in real life, but like I said, I do not feel comfortable writing about it. I also will not be writing non-con content, nor will I write about incest or dubious consent content. I ask that you please respect my choice.

For the sake of transparency, I will keep tagging the sexual content on my blog as NSFW and I will add it in the warnings above my fanfiction every time. Again, I ask that you respect these boundaries if you are a minor. I also ask that the other adult creators tag my writings as NSFW if they decide to reblog them. Thank you!!

Lastly, because I am 18, I want to say that if you feel uncomfortable with me interacting with your content or talking to you, do not hesitate to tell me and I will respect your own boundaries. Friendships on tumblr are complicated because everyone can stay anonymous while maintaining relationships with each other, which can make some people very uncomfortable, especially minors. I will completely understand if you would rather I stay away from your blog.

What I Read

I love reading people’s fanfiction and I really try to be supportive of my friends and their content however I have realised that there are a few things I see that make me uncomfortable, which is why I have decided to tell you guys that I will not be reading NSFW content about real people anymore. I don’t judge creators that do write about real people, nor do I necessarily disagree with them, I just know that it doesn’t make me feel comfortable anymore so I will not be reading those kinds of fics anymore. I am really sorry if that upsets or disappoints you but I’m not going to force myself to read things that make me feel uneasy haha.

Also, I don’t think I have ever interacted with fanfiction that talks about someone’s real life trauma because it always made me feel extremely uncomfortable, and I don’t intend on starting now so please don’t tag me in content like that! I don’t want to disrespect your work or your writing, but I feel that there are certain boundaries we have to respect as “fans” and romanticising a real person’s personal trauma is just not right in my eyes (Dylan O’Brien’s accident for instance). Yes, this includes past relationships or exes (something I didn’t always respect but now I do).

Speaking of trauma, I would like to specify something.

I will not, and will never romanticise a character on here who’s personality revolves around his/her/their trauma (yes, even if it’s fictional). It was a big issue with Arvin Russell in the Tom Holland fandom, and it will be an even bigger issue when Cherry comes out. I used to read Mitch Rapp fanfiction, something that I don’t intend on doing anymore, unless it’s soft Mitch who’s resolved his issues haha. If a character’s entire story arc and trauma has turned them into a violent and mentally ill person, it is not something that I want to romanticise or fantasize about. It can be harmful because it reinforces the idea that toxic relationships and/or violence are romantic or sexy things. They aren’t.

What to expect on my blog for the next few months

I will be writing again in two weeks and here is what I’ve got cooking:

I will finish posting A Shitty Love Song

I will be writing a series about Harry Potter and an OC (this is a big project I’m taking on so I won’t be giving more details until I’ve really worked on it)

I will be writing a Fred Weasley series (will include smut so prepare yourselves haha)

I will be writing more Peter Parker one-shots and I might have some series ideas for later down the line

I will be writing more Drake Walker one-shots

I will be finishing writing the song blurb requests I got way back in November (im sorry it’s been so long!!)

I will also be starting a new weekly thing on my blog. I’ll explain the details in a couple of weeks but there will be a taglist so you guys get notified when we play <3

I WILL BE PLANNING A 1.2K FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION WHEN I’M DONE WITH EXAMS I LOVE U GUYS

I realise that this post is insanely long and not exactly fun to read, so if you’ve stuck around till the end, thank you so much!! Please respect the boundaries I have set for my blog and please try to understand where I’m coming from before you do anything haha. I really don’t mean to act all high and mighty or superior to anyone, I’m really not haha, but I do feel responsible for the content I share on here and this is a post I’ve been meaning to make for quite some time now. I love you guys so so so much, thank you for 1.2K followers!! I feel blessed and I am so so so excited to keep creating content for you and for myself. 2021 will be awesome <333333

tagging my mutuals and my forever tag+other posts tag:

News and Other Posts Tag

@stiles-o-dylan24 @duskholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @hcomet28 @decaffeinated--fangirl @teen--marvel @cheesecakes-randomshitz

Forever Tag

@stixnstripesworld @masterofbluff @drakewalker04 @superapplepie @apatheticanvas67482

Mutuals

@duskholland @thelittlestkitsune @apatheticanvas67482 @mrscutiefandobhaz @teen--marvel @aquariusholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @siriusly-harry @solstilla

#v rambles #blog psa #thank you for understanding #again #im sorry if i come off as rude or as pretentious!!#truly is not my intention #just think it's better that the boundaries are clearly stated and that everyone knows what to expect #love u guys!!

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years ago

Text

Addressing Accusations

A few days ago, many of you saw that I was receiving some anons who were accusing me of various items and showcasing their dislike for me. It’s been two months since these events initially occurred on Twitter, driving me from the platform permanently (except for a brief return a few days ago to touch up the account and hopefully to turn on notifications for new Mandalorian news.) After much reflection, I’d like to address what’s been said about me and explain my side of the story.

(DISCLAIMER: I have not gone and looked at the tweets myself, for the sake of my mental health. This is going off of what they have told me directly or what others have told me they’ve seen. Also, no excuses are trying to be made—I’m simply trying to provide my truths and tell you the things you may not have been told before. I take accountability for every time I’ve made a mistake and I will not deny it.)

THE ACCUSATION: Being racist for using BLM to avoid addressing what was being said about me online.

THE TRUTH: I had been boosting BLM petitions, donations, news, etc. for many days before any of this occurred—and avoided what was being said for my mental health, to focus on what I thought was more important (BLM), and because my choice of action at the time was to “turn the other cheek.”

It makes me very upset to have to say anything of the sorts that might make me appear as saying “look, I did do something!” for BLM because that’s just the right thing to do. I tried to signal boost as much as I could, whatever I was seeing on my timeline. The evidence of this is still on my Twitter account (previously dindjarjn, now themollylorian) where you can see that I was retweeting resources and making some of my own tweets to signal boost BLM. Additionally, I did the same on here (and will always continue to).

THE ACCUSATION: Fetishizing and sexualizing Latinx men.

THE TRUTH: While back in April, I did make a mistake by creating a BuzzFeed quiz where an answer related to Narcos said the person who got that answer “probably only watched ~those~ scenes” in reference to P*dro’s character (a mistake which I took accountability for, fixed as quickly as possible, and apologized publicly on multiple occasions for), I myself have never watched those scenes, never said/done anything explicitly sexual about P*dro or other Latinx men beyond the casual notes of admiration, nor had a fetish for Latinx men.

I’ve been in many fandoms where I have found many different races/ethnicities of characters and people attractive. This continues into my real life, where I’ve actively pursued relationships with/had crushes on men who’ve been white, Asian, and Black. I’ve never been one to be vulgar online and in real life (aside from my character’s dialogue in writing), especially in a sexual sense. I’ve always had a personal belief (meaning, I don’t judge others who are different) in remaining rather traditional in that sense, trying to avoid explicitly sexual things. This is why it made me uncomfortable many times to see instances where fans would zoom in on areas of P*dro’s body, or to see really intense thirst tweets, or why I can’t read/write explicit smut. Thus, I have never been one to have a “fetish” for anything, much less for Latinx men specifically. Again, you can scroll through my Twitter to see evidence of this.

THE ACCUSATION: Being a Tr*mp supporter/Republican.

THE TRUTH: While I initially registered as Republican due to familial pressure (my mother’s side of the family is entirely conservative Republican and very judgmental), I always wanted to register Independent, and finally did so recently—so now, I’m registered Independent, and I have never supported Tr*mp.

My public records were searched up during all this and that’s how this was discovered. It’s since been changed, so if you were to look it up now, you’d see that it’s changed to Independent (finally!). Like I mentioned above, much of my family is Republican, and since I’ve always been a people pleaser I was afraid to deviate from that. But, I gained a spine and was finally able to do so, even though it was hard.

As far as things go with Tr*mp, I have never been an advocate for him in any way, shape, or form. I never followed him on Twitter, nor interacted with what he said, nor joined the mob of those who do support him. I have family that does. I don’t agree with them. And I’ll be completely honest here: when I was 16, my sister was attending college in D.C., and I was forced to go to his inauguration (my parents’ rationality: “we’ll go to the inauguration, no matter who’s elected,” and a reminder that my mother is Republican and very strict) because I couldn’t stay home for that long by myself (we live far away from D.C.). I didn’t openly show support while I was there and I haven’t publicly spread pictures about me going on social media to give the illusion that I do, in any way, support him.

THE ACCUSATION: I tweeted that I wanted to meet P*dro at a protest.

THE TRUTH: I tweeted an admittedly tone-deaf tweet saying I was grateful for P*dro’s participation in a protest (which I promptly deleted), while someone else tweeted something about meeting P*dro at a protest.

I, sadly, cannot provide concrete evidence for this since both tweets have since been deleted, but I’m sure there are others who can attest for me on this account and back up my word. I would never say something as horrid as wanting to utilize a protest to meet a celebrity. My tweet as I said above was tone-deaf nevertheless, but not in the way of the second one. Both were tweeted on the same night, which was cause for some confusion. But, I did not tweet that I wanted to meet P*dro at a protest.

THE ACCUSATION: I was trying to police/be a leader of the P*dro fandom.

THE TRUTH: I was often approached by others in my direct messages for help in getting involved in the fandom as well as help in addressing issues such as sexual tweets made directly at P*dro—and I’m very bad at refusing help.

I, admittedly, am very bad at saying “no.” In many cases, I had people come to me for help when they saw something bad going on in the fandom. I believe it may have been because of the organized donations to a foundation for P*dro’s birthday or because of the letter I wrote where I listed hundreds of names of fans that led them to believe I was “a leader,” but it was never my intention nor my desire (I’m much too busy for that kind of pressure, honestly) to become “a leader” or to “police” content in the fandom. I, evidently, wasn’t perfect myself as no one is, so I wouldn’t have had a right to do any of that, anyway.

CONCLUSION

I believe frustration, anger, and dislike is what caused many things to escalate. I can understand many people who were annoyed by me because when it first happened, I admittedly tweeted a lot about P*dro’s response to a tweet of mine. Annoyingly so. If people don’t like me because of that, I understand. And I can understand why people got even more frustrated when he quoted another tweet of mine on his birthday. I don’t blame anyone for that. But, honestly, that’s when I started noticing more people taking issues with me. Not before—all was well before.

You don’t have to make a reason to not like somebody, to block them, or to just not want to interact with them. It doesn’t give you an excuse to lie about people, harass them on the internet, or talk about them behind their back.

This situation has, admittedly, declined my mental health to an all-time low, giving me anxiety I’ve never quite felt before. I’m not saying that for sympathy, solely to show the effect of harmful words on people—no matter how strong they may seem. I always search for the best in people, so I’ll always believe those who have not liked me are still great people. But, it cannot be denied that no matter what, it’s never worth driving a person to this kind of anxiety with constant harassment. Mistakes should be pointed out with grace so that they can be learned from. Repeated issues should be addressed privately so the person in the wrong can take the time to reflect, research, and learn from them.

I will never hold a grudge. I’ve always been a very forgiving person, sometimes to a fault. But I cannot sit idly and watch this go by. I will not argue, nor bite back at whoever’s said these things. I will simply continue to be open and honest with you all.

#accountability #about me

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