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theredsuzuran · 4 years ago

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Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #demon lord #demon slayer #demon #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x reader #anime

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smilingperformer · 4 years ago

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Discussing the good and bad of Pokémon Journeys: Part “Goh”

Oh boi... this part is gonna be a doozy. Because I have a lot to talk about Goh, or as I tend to call him, Gou.

TLDR; I like Gou as a character but I very, very much have issues with the way he's currently written in the show. And that frustrates me deeply as I'd love to feel more positively about him. More under the cut, with Journeys abverted as JN.

Where do I even begin... Maybe by how I first became a fan of Gou's character, by after some time started to go back to neutral ground.

Like, ever since the very first episode, we've got a very clear picture of what kind of character Gou is: a bookworm, loves Pokémon, loves to show his knowledge and isn't exactly good at making friends. His only friend before Satoshi (and before learning about Tokio/Horace's reasonings for not showing up to their meeting place) was Chloe/Koharu, and we still don't know how the two met. Thou my guess is that their childhood friendship bonded over their parents meeting during some job or by Koharu feeling the need to be Gou's friend. Who knows, it's something I want to learn about. But that's besides the point, cough.

But like, from the very first episode on, it became clear that this show wants to focus on Gou, and telling his journey on becoming a Pokémon Trainer who wants to catch all of the Pokémon in the World, in order to get closer to catching Mew, the mythical Pokémon who's said to contain DNA of all existing Pokémon. He had a very strong introduction arc, with showing his dynamic with Koharu, having him meet Satoshi on top of Lugia, first getting to know Satoshi (and Rockets) and then catching his first partner Pokémon in Hibunny. However, as time went on and episodes started piling up, I started feeling like something about him was... off.

I feel like the first time I had an issue with the writing involving him was in JN006, where he went on his first catching spree. Where he kept catching Pokémon with ease. Small struggle at the start when trying to work together his dynamic with Hibunny, but the rest of the ep felt way too easy. Then again, Gou IS flat out Pokémon GO promotion. No one can deny that. His purpose is to promote GO's capture mechanic. It is the most successful Pokémon Mobile game of all time.

Anyway, the easy captures piled up on and on til JN010 when he finally had to use dozens of pokeballs to catch one. single. Dewgong. I loved this so much. It made me feel more at ease with his goal mechanic and I felt like I'd be fine with him from there on out. And I was. Til I started having new issues with him. All thanks to Satoshi's new goal in PWC finally having been established.

As time went on, it became clearer and clearer, that Gou was more focused on when it came to his goal progression, development in character level, and in what kind of quality his episodes would be.

Everyone knows how much I love JN032. Everyone does. It's one of my absolute fav episodes in the series. However, it also kinda is what first prompted me starting my worry that hasn't gone away since then: That Gou feels more like the protagonist than Satoshi does in this series, and not really an equal dual protag he was advertised to be.

Before the pitchforks are getting aimed at me, hear me out. I know, that based on some statistics, the focus is equal, with sliiiightly more inclinded towards Gou. However, that's where the issue is: Gou has, so far for me, had way better focus and way better episodes in this series, than Satoshi has, while also getting progress on his goal on other character's focus episodes. When Satoshi's episodes have been about PWC and training his Pokémon, Gou's had the kind of episodes that are more character exploring, developing him, evolving him in some way. And it, frustrates me. Because despite my better judgement, it gives me this feeling that Gou is stealing Satoshi's thunder, even when some type of statistics would suggest otherwise. It gives me this feeling that Gou is here to write Satoshi out. I do not like that I feel this way, I don't know how to get rid of this feeling and I hate it here.

Again, I like Gou's character, he's sweet, well developed, and I do enjoy seeing him in his own episodes. But I have come to noticed, than whenever he gets goal progression in an episode that's supposed to focus on Koharu or Satoshi, I feel so.... angry? And I've never, ever felt like this while watching other characters progress. And I know it's irrational.

Like, his main partner's already fully evolved, his secondary partner Sobble is already evolving soon despite only having one focus episode for itself before it, and he's caught all three of the Galar starters now, with some of his other not-that-important Pokémon making appearances every now and then with possible evolution showcases. And it's all done so fast. Same issue was with Satoshi's poketeam evolving in fast arcs, but I forgot to mention about it? But then again, I am somewhat fine with it as I get the writing style is to focus on one 'mon and then move on to another. Which is not to my taste completely but I digress. ANYWAY, back to Gou.

After seeing discussions and joining in on some on tumblr and twitter and elsewhere, it does appear that Gou's development speed and progression speed is incredibly fast. Like, seriously fast. He's caught a lot of Pokémon by now, and the show's already shown about 50% percent of all existing Pokémon in a bit over a year. About 30% being caught by Gou. (Statistics borrowed from EntityMays' Living Dex trackers, links in posts will disrupt showing in tag search so, google EntityMays's Living Dex, and you'll find the statistics there).

This is also very apparent when you think about how fast Gou suddenly became a good battler, when at the beginning he sucked. A lot. I get Satoshi could be a great example on learning how to battle with good strategy in mind, but we barely saw Gou struggle. We Satoshi struggle in OS, so I would have prefered more struggling by Gou. His first battle against a legendary ended up in Zapdos almost getting caught and uuuuuggh, while it's a pretty good episode it really should have been at later point, same with Suicune episode. Thou with the latter I have WAY more issues than just the placement but, I'm not gonna rant about that today.

And what should I say about his dynamics with other characters... They're good, I am a huge fan of how the dynamic between Koharu and Gou works, as their childhood friend dynamic is shown so, so well, and you can just tell the two have mutual respect as Gou gives Koharu the space she needed when she wasn't into Pokémon for a while, and when she then became partners with Eevee, Gou was so so SO darn supportive just, AGH. Love how these two work.

And everyone knows I fell for Gou x Tokio dynamic straight away. Like they had a friendship built up right away when they first met as little kids and Tokio missing out on their promised meeting due to being sick and not having any means of contacting him yes still considered Gou his friend after these years when Gou considered him a traitor of trust and Gou then forgives him for it and just aaaaaahhh-. KRHM. Excuse me.

Then there's Gou and Satoshi's dynamic and I already said in my post about Satoshi how I feel intimidated by the fans of their shipping and how it makes me feel.... kinda sad about not being able to like their dynamic for what it is. I LOVE it a ton. I have said it a countless times, they're a broTP to me. They're dynamic was very enjoyable for me to watch, and even Gou was. But like, on TOP of these issues I mentioned before this part, I also have another issue with Gou: his fanbase, or the crazier part of it.

Often times I feel like I'm unable to enjoy Gou's character without being reminded of the fans who constantly think of him as shipping fuel, or think he's flawless and anyone disagreering is in some form a negative trait filled human being, etc etc etc. In a way, I feel like I'd enjoy Gou and his dynamic with Satoshi way, way more, if I had never learned about this side of the fandom. Let people like their dynamic the way they want. Be it romantic or platonic. Neither is wrong, but pushing one side to push their own headcanon to other people's head is just, bad act. Having this feeling in me has actually made me wonder, whether I would have liked other characters I am such a huge fan of, if I had been watching their shows during their airing times (for example Serena).

Now what would I have done differently with Gou? Firstly, slow the fuck down. I would have prefered to see Hibunny way more. I would have prefered to have one Galar Starter, namely Grookey, go to Satoshi, as it would help me feel less like Gou's stealing his thunder. I would have prefered if Gou and Satoshi's goals were established around same time. I would have very much liked it, if Gou wouldn't be catching Pokémon each episode.

Now what COULD help me like him better from what we have by now? Well. Slow it down. Have him interact with Koharu more. Give him a rival to further make him shine on his own instead of seemingly relying on Satoshi to shine through. Hell, maybe make Tokio his friendly rival. And on top of that, please let him not catch Pokémon almost every single episode. I'd love an episode where he captures some Pokémon that prefers to be free, and he then would let it go. I think that would make his character be good on his own, and make me feel better about him once again.

Cough. I think I've got my point clear. As said, I like Gou, but very much dislike the way he's written in such fast pacing and in a way that, despite statistics stating otherwise, making him feel like he's the sole protag and not sharing spotlight as dual protag. And I hope to god I can get rid of this feeling as the series goes on. Because right now, I don't have high hopes :(

If you've read this far, thank you for reading, and I am so, so sorry this became a long long rant about the issues I have with Gou, but I hope I managed to bring out what I like about him as well. Hopefully next time's gonna be a more positive post, as I'll try writing about my full on feelings about the handling of Koharu, or as dub audience knows her, Chloe.

Once again, thanks for reading, have a good evening or morning or whatever time it is by the time you've read this, and I hope you'll have a fantastic time ♥ And as a reminder, these are just my opinions, and if you disagree, you are totally valid.

Til next time! This was Smiling Performer aka Aleira, signing out!

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokemon jn #pokemon journeys #discussions #goh #gou #character discussions

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sister-dear · 4 years ago

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Whoever your favorite Link is, do headcanons for them, please and thank you

sdflsadfj More? You are too kind. ❤

My fav is Sky, but Four, Legend, and Wild are all up there with him so...

Four Headcanons!

Disclaimer that my headcanons for Four probably shift and change the most out of any of the Links depending on what I’m wanting out of a given story.

Four still lives with his grandfather at the forge. His dad was in the picture for a time but it was brief and they never got very close. He has a very good relationship with Grandpa Smith.

Very private. He’ll be friendly or at least pleasantly social with people, but it takes him a long time to actually warm up to them. Dude has excellent customer service skills; he knows how to read a room.

Trades constant, ruthless short jokes with Dot. They’re as bad with teasing and shit-talking each other as Wind and Tetra. Dot is taller than him but not by much.

The vast majority of his community loves and is supportive of him. I go back and forth on the degree to which his colors are public knowledge, but at least a few members of Hyrule Town are aware of them and are friendly towards whichever part of Four happens to walk through their doors.

Closet gremlin

Being separated for as long as he was during Four Swords meant the colors became just individual enough that when he re-merged it did not go smoothly. He had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat, everything. Immediately post adventure he was completely bed-bound, relying on soft foods, and barely communicating. It took intense therapy to get him back on his feet, which Dot made sure was provided to him. Grandpa Smith was his primary caretaker and so played a large part in his recovery; it’s part of why they’re still so close. Eventually he recovered the ability to split, which helped significantly. It meant he could split up to work out the problem when his colors started clashing instead of getting sucked into his own head and locking up.

All of that recovery took a minimum of two years, probably more like three or four. So for this to work and him to be ~17 by the time of LU he’d have been about 13-14 on his second adventure. Younger than I think the actual characters of the canon manga and game were meant to be, but imo it works with the art style of the game.

Grandpa Smith knows the colors as individuals and considers all of them his grandsons.

Can sometimes get lost in his own head if the colors are having a strong disagreement or he’s otherwise having a bad mental health day. It usually reads as kind of dazed/out of it/stumbly to those around him

Quite comfortable in crowds, royal court, high society, society in general.

Dislikes cats

Little gay man. The individual colors might have differing sexualities and genders (heck, he’s young enough for all of that to still be changing and developing) but they are all attracted to boys to at least some degree so Four as a whole identifies as gay.

Violet’s first crush was Shadow, and at least some of those feelings carried across to Four. At the very least he considers Shadow to have been a friend.

Nothing will make Four pull his hair out faster than people doing things they shouldn’t to their weapons. To him, smithing is an art form. Four takes the care and quality of all of his companions’ weapons very personally.

Four is something of a jack of all trades when it comes to weapons. He isn’t just a sword guy; he’s perfectly capable with a bow and quite likes bombs. His fighting style involves lots of rolling and dodging and redirecting momentum. He just can’t afford to take as many direct blows as someone bigger.

When at home, Four can and does split into his component colors all the time in order to get more shit done or just give himself some mental space. When he needs to settle himself mentally into one body, he usually turns to smithing. It’s one of the few activities all of the colors love equally.

Protective of Sky, who is something of a kindred spirit. They’re usually the first to notice if one of them is having a bad health day, though Four tends to put a lot more effort into hiding his bad days than Sky does.

I headcanon that the boys all met up in pairs first, then those pairs joined up before finally coming together in one big group. In that little scenario, Four met Twilight first. He was Minish size and Twilight was a wolf, so they knew one of each other’s secrets from the start. The reciprocity of that appeals to Four, as does Twilight’s level head, so he began to trust Twilight a lot faster than he usually would with someone.

Will get up to shenanigans with Hyrule, Wind, and Wild. Those four are all definitely still teenagers, and sometimes you just gotta try out whatever hairbrained scheme your buddies have cooked up this time.

Moar: Wild | Sky | Legend | Hyrule | Warriors

#linked universe four #lu four #linkeduniverse #headcanons

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ink-fireplace-coffee · 3 years ago

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Short Story: Kiss me, for I am dying.

A/N: this story was crafted yesterday at midnight so I can't assure the quality of it at all. It is inspired in a theatre/legend we have here in Spain called Los Amantes de Teruel, or The Teruel Lovers in english. It's like the Spanish less known version of Romeo and Juliet.

Word count: 1901.

TW: mentions of death.

I don't have a general taglist or anything on the sort, but @nathandoesntknow asked me to tag them, so here you go! enjoy my midnight weird af inspiration I guess.

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Five months ago, Jaime would've just left if he saw that on the rooftop of the campus was already someone.

Five months ago, if he had seen that stranger sitting there- feet dangling in the air and looking at the sunset- was Isa, he would’ve turned on his heels and left before she could even so much but noticed him.

Or maybe he would’ve “asked” (more like demanded) her to go somewhere else.

Jaime and Isa hated each other. Pure and simple.

Ever since the first day of university, when Isa had given him a “you are annoying” look after Jaime had accidentally hitted her backpack, launching all her stuff through the hall.

No matter how many times he had tried to convince her that it hadn’t been on purpose, she had said that it was his fault over and over again.

If that wasn’t enough, they had not only been forced to sit next to each other for their whole third year (since it was extremely rude to tame someone else’s seat after the first week of classes) but they also were constantly competing on the top of the class.

If Isa had a 95% on the midterm, Jaime had a 98%.

If Jaime had scored a 9,9 out of ten in that essay, Isa had gotten the full mark.

Everyone saw it as a nice academic competition, the kind that made you better every day and it was healthy. Sometimes it could also be mistaken for a nice banter, or even a bit of university drama.

Isa and Jaime saw it as a live or die battle where only one of them could succeed.

Spanish had been the only subject Jaime had ever been really good at, for as long as he could remember. His zeroes in maths had always mattered less next to his tens in Spanish.

When he had told his father that his dream was to become a spanish teacher, the old man had simply nodded and said “I was not expecting less”. And so, one entrance exam to Salamanca’s university later, Jaime knew he was starting to walk the path of his future.

But while his passions were words formation, syntax and how the language had developed into today’s form; Isa had decided to study the career for a whole different reason.

It was clear that she felt completely herself when discussing novels and authors. Her essays on every single topic were excellent quality (even Jaime had to admit it) and they always provided a new, fresh way of thinking.

And maybe that's why some months ago, whatever they had agreed on had taken place.

Now, when the morning classes had already finished, Isa was already on the rooftop, a book in hand and a notebook resting on her legs.

“You are late. Again.” She remarked when she saw Jaime’s blond hair.

“Some of us have life, Isabel.” he answered in the same cold tone and took a seat in front of her.

“Being the teacher’s pet is not having a life.” They both held each other's gazes for a while, until instead of intimidating, they were staring.

The wind whooshed, making the students snap back.

Jaime cleared his throat and Isa focused on her book .“What are we revising today?” asked him.

She tapped the pages of her notebook with a pen. “Los Amantes de Teruel. Spanish version of Romeo and Juliet, I believe. Since you haven't finished it, even though it was due yesterday.” Isa added, a sassy remark included in her voice.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

Lovers of Teruel.

It is true that he had been stuck for three months in a 170 pages novel. But there were far more interesting things to do than read how two fools felt in love only to die at the end.

“I would've finished it if I hand’t been busy correcting someone’s homework.'' He remarked, as he searched for his own copy of the book inside his backpack.

Isa just scoffed, and gave him another “you are annoying” look. Jaime had to make an effort not to smile.

“You know? I wonder if those death stares are unically for me, like a personalized stare.”

“Oh, right, because you are so important in my life that I decided to give you an specific look whenever you say or do something stupid.”

“I mean… You asked me for help that day, so I guess I must be somewhat important, dear Isa.”

“I asked you for help?” she repeated, astonished “You were roaming this rooftop for weeks until I got fed up with how creepy it looked and told you to help me with that assignment, which, for the record, was perfect.”

That was true. Her assignment had been flawless, but Jaime would rather die than to admit that out loud.

“Are you planning on finishing this book with me or do you want to keep talking?” He grinned then “I’m sure there are a ton of other things you could use your mouth for, but I’d like to be prepared for my exam next week.”

Her slight blush felt like a personal win. Until she stroke back, of course.

“One: that is extremely gross, and I don’t want to know about the weird fantasies you have with my mouth. And two: it’s your turn ‘Diego’, so read.”

Since there was no point in reading plays in silence and to themselves, at the beginning of the book (three months ago), Jaime and Isa had divided the roles, taking the two main characters with them: he as Diego and her as Isabel.

“You were practically born for this role” had joked Jaime and Isa wondered how far from the ground they were… and how hard she would have to shove him.

They read some scenes out loud, stopping to make some points on the narrative, paraphrase or make a summary of what they got so far. If it was true that individually they worked really well, as a team it was almost magical.

“Kiss me, for I am dying” said Jaime/Diego for the second time. Isabel had just rejected his lover, since she had already married and didn’t wish to deceive her now husband.

“And then Diego dies because he can’t bear the pain that causes him not being able to love Isabel.” the girl closed her book, and got up, stretching “It’s late, we should go before the campus closes.”

Jaime nodded and tagged alone, but stayed quiet the whole time until they were about to leave the university.

Then, just before partying ways, the question escaped his lips “Would you kiss me if my life depended on it.?”

Both of them looked equally surprised. When he didn’t add anything else, Isa understood he was waiting for an answer.

Well, what do you answer when someone asks that without a warning?

If there’s one thing Isa had clear was that Jaime and her weren’t friends. They weren’t even study buddies! They were just two students of the same class who happened to help each other out every now and then…

And for what?

“Let’s be glad that it doesn't.” she finally said, and turned away, wanting to run as quickly as her legs could carry her.

Would you kiss me if my life depended on it?. Two college students were replaying the same question over and over in their heads. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Isa didn’t have the guts to go back to the rooftop in the next few weeks. Since Jaime had handed in his essay on the novel, she had assumed he had finished it on his own.

That was good, right?

Now, both of them averted their eyes, and tried really hard not to cross paths.

What had been Jaime thinking when he asked that?! Oh right, he had been not thinking at all!

Still, not knowing the answer to the damn question was getting on his nerves. Not that he desperately wanted Isa to kiss him, that could never happen but…

Hypothetically he wanted to know.

Two weeks before finals, they both bumped into each other at the rooftop. Seeing Jaime’s figure -his back to her and his face to the orange sun-, made Isa stop on her tracks.

The door slammed closed and the guy turned around.

Awkwardness was all over the place.

“The library is super crowded and-” started to explain her. He nodded.

“I know, that’s why I’m here.”

A few minutes of silence and then:

“You finished the play.” commented Isa.

“Yeah, I did” Jaime rubbed his neck, nervous “Thanks for sharing your notes, by the way. They were really helpful.”

“Oh, um, no problem.”

“And, about that question…”

“It 's okay! You don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, really, I don’t know how it happened.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need to apologize, really.”

More silence in between them.

“I can go if you want me to.” offered then Jaime. She lifted up her gaze at him.

“The rooftop is big enough for the two of us, and I know you don't like studying at the library.”

Isa had been thinking about how much she noticed about Jaime without actually wanting to: his likes and dislikes, how he frowned slightly when there was a concept he was not following, his happy smiles whenever there was something he was pleased about…

He was grinning like that now.

“Earth calling Isa, are you there?” She blinked a few times.

“Yeah, totally. Here. Present.”

Jaime decided it was now or never.

He lifted up his hand, the one holding the book and showed it to her. "We never finished reading."

"You handed in your essay already. Why would we finish reading it?"

Clearly none of this was working. The guy slided his backpack on his shoulder. "I should go, Alejandro needs me for this book analysis-" he rambled.

"Go" Isa nodded and then smiled. "Teacher 's pet."

He just laughed awkwardly and headed out.

Isa had hated every single second of that conversation. Even if it's true they never had a friendly relationship, they had somewhat grown closer along the few months they had tutored each other.

What did Jaime really mean to her? He was insufferable sometimes, that's true. Arrogant in class and a stupid know-it-all…

But he was also brilliant. And he was kinder than he wanted to show: he had given her his jacket to go home when it was raining once; and even shared his notes with her when she had been sick.

The girl ran downstairs.

Jaime was about to go inside the teacher's office when she finally got to him. In a final effort after her sprint, she tried grabbing his arm.

The guy turned around, really surprised.

"Isa, what-"

"Ask me again." she demanded.

"What?"

"Ask. Me. Again" Isa pleaded out of breath. Her courage would flee anytime soon and then-

"Bésame, que me muero." he whispered.

Kiss me, for I'm dying.

Their lips touched.

"Do you like this ending better?" she asked after the kiss, a sly smile already forming.

He tipped his head back and laughed "Much better."

In Spain whenever someone mentions Lovers of Teruel, we have a saying that sort of finishes the sentence: stupid her and stupid him. Since they both die foolishly.

Luckily, we can assure that the sentence does not apply to Jaime nor Isa.

#short story: kiss me for i am dying #my writing #short story

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thelazyhermits · 4 years ago

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Touching Hearts

As I mentioned in this post, I’ve finally started watching season 4 of the anime, and because of that, I’m remembering things I had forgotten about since it’s been a while since I last read about those arcs in the manga.

One such thing I forgot about was how beat up Todoroki and Bakugou get from their provisional license training, which is mentioned at the beginning of the Overhaul arc, so I decided to write a scene focused on that which takes place directly after chapter 38 of TABF.

I hope y’all enjoy it! ^-^

After you convince Yagi to meet with Nighteye, the retired hero nervously calls his former sidekick in hopes to arrange a meeting with him. Much to his surprise, Nighteye quickly agrees and says you both can come by tomorrow afternoon.

Of course, you aren’t nearly as surprised as Yagi is. After all, there’s no way a diehard All Might fan like Nighteye could ever turn down a request from the former number one hero himself. Plus, you’re sure that he was happy to hear that Yagi wanted to speak with him, even though you bet he’s wondering what the reason behind the visit is since Yagi didn’t go into details.

Once that meeting has been set up and you’ve properly cleaned your tear-stained face, you and Yagi make arrangements to set up a meeting with Nedzu and Aizawa to let them know about the current situation at hand.

As expected, neither Nedzu or Aizawa are thrilled when they hear the news of Nighteye’s impending death, and the latter especially dislikes the thought of you trying to prevent it because of your drawback.

Thankfully, in the end, you and Yagi manage to convince him to allow you both to meet with Nighteye tomorrow since you can’t just ignore your vision. You have to do something.

However, it takes a while to do that, so by the time you finally start heading back to the dorm, you’re completely exhausted, emotionally because of that horrific vision you had about Nighteye, mentally because of that meeting with Aizawa, and physically since you had training with Shinsou after that meeting finally concluded.

That’s why you have every intention to go to bed early tonight, so you’ll be well-rested for tomorrow’s meeting with Nighteye. And you’re honestly just too tired to do anything besides cook dinner at this point, well anything except for giving Midoriya a big hug, of course, since you know he had an equally rough day and you will never be too tired to shower him with the affection and support he deserves. Plus, hugging him always makes you feel better, so it’s only natural that you take every opportunity to do so, especially on a day like today.

While you follow through with your plan to hug Midoriya once you return to the dorm, your plans to turn in early tonight end up changing when dinner comes and goes without you seeing Bakugou or Todoroki. Apparently, since it’s Sunday, today’s provisional license training is an all day affair.

Aizawa had told you as much earlier today, but you didn’t think he literally meant all day, considering how early the boys left this morning. Naturally, that just makes you wonder what kind of training they are going through that lasts from sunrise to sunset, obviously the really intense kind.

No doubt Todoroki and Bakugou will be exhausted by the time they return to the dorm. You just hope they won’t be too battered and beaten since you heard from the other UA teachers that Ganga Orca is a tough instructor.

Since you’re worried about your students, you can’t bring yourself to go to bed until they safely return to the dorm. That’s why, when everyone else turns in for the night, you remain in the living room and wait for the boys.

Fortunately, you don’t have to wait long since Bakugou and Todoroki both arrive shortly after their classmates turn in for the night. When they do, you discover that your wish for them to not be too battered and beaten was in vain.

With a gasp, you hurry over to the surprised boys, so you can get a better look at their injuries. “Are you two alright?! I heard Ganga Orca was a tough instructor, but I didn’t think you two would come back looking this beat up!”

Todoroki blinks, “We’re alright. None of our injuries are serious.”

He tilts his head. “What are you doing still up, Sensei? I thought everyone would be asleep by now.”

Frowning, you gently cup his injured cheek as you examine the damage done to his handsome face. “I didn’t want to go to bed before you two got home, and I’m glad I didn’t since you both need to get these injuries treated before you go to bed.”

Bakugou huffs, “You’re overreacting. These are just scratches. They’re nothing to make a big deal about.”

“Even so, we can’t ignore them.” You reply as you pull your hand away from Todoroki’s face. “So, after you two have eaten dinner, I’ll help you take care of them.”

Just as you turn to head for the kitchen, a question comes to mind, making you pause. “Or do you guys need to take a shower first?”

Todoroki shakes his head. “They had shower stalls at the building where our training was held, so we took showers after we changed out of our hero costumes.”

“Good.” You resume heading toward the kitchen. “In that case, just take a seat at the dining table, and I’ll bring out the food I set aside for you two.”

Rather than oblige, Bakugou drops the briefcase carrying his hero costume and follows after you. “I can carry my own fucking food. You don’t need to bring it to me.”

After Todoroki copies his classmate’s actions, he adds, “I can carry mine too. You don’t have to go out of your way for our sake, Sensei.”

Obviously, these two aren’t as exhausted as you first thought if they have enough energy to argue with you. You suppose you should take that as a good sign.

“Alright.” You huff, “I’ll show you what all I set aside for you in the fridge, and then, I’ll take care of getting some drinks for us.”

Not long after that, the three of you find yourselves at the dining table. While your students eat their food, you just drink from the water bottle you grabbed for yourself.

Rather than try talking to your students, you just watch them devour the food you prepared for them since they’re obviously more interesting in eating than chatting. You had expected they would have strong appetites after the long day they had, and you were right. It’s a good thing you made sure to prepare ample portions for them.

Once he has gotten through half of his meal, Shouto finally takes notice of what Bakugou is eating and tilts his head curiously. “I didn’t notice this earlier, but Bakugou and I are eating completely different meals. Why is that? Shouldn’t these just be leftovers from tonight’s dinner?”

Apparently, Bakugou didn’t notice that either, judging from the way he pauses his eating to examine his and his classmate’s dinner. When the blond later turns to raise an eyebrow at you, you chuckle, “Those aren’t leftovers from tonight’s dinner. Those are dishes I made after dinner.”

A grin forms on your lips. “I wanted to make you each your favorite foods once I realized what a long day you would be having since I wanted to make sure your day ended on a good note. After all, nothing’s better than eating food that you love after a long day, right?”

The corners of Todoroki’s lips tilt slightly upwards. “That’s true. My day definitely improved thanks to your delicious soba. Thank you, Sensei.”

As you return the ice user’s smile, Bakugou returns his attention to his food. “Your spicy food still isn’t anywhere near the level of spiciness my cooking has, but it’s not bad.”

An amused huff escapes you. “Thanks, and I’ll be sure to keep the spice level in mind the next time I make something spicy for you.”

Once that conversion concludes, the boys resume eating. Since it shouldn’t be long until they finish, you leave the table to collect the first aid kit that’s kept in the kitchen, so you can be ready to treat their injuries once they finish eating.

Fortunately, even though you know Bakugou finds your mothering to be annoying, he doesn’t try to make a break for it as soon as he and Todoroki finish eating. Instead, the blond takes care of cleaning his dishes and throws away his trash like his classmate does before returning to the dining table.

When you give him an approving smile after he takes a seat at the table, Bakugou scowls at you in return, but thankfully, he doesn’t do anything else. Still, you know he’ll be far from a model patient, so you decide to save him for last since you know Todoroki won’t give you any trouble.

Just as you expected, Todoroki just quietly sits at the table as you begin treating all of his injuries, only speaking whenever you ask him if he’s in any pain. Each time you ask him if your actions are hurting him, he assures you that he’s fine much to your relief.

That relief quickly turns tino frustration when you begin treating the scrapes on Todoroki’s face. “Honestly, what was Ganga Orca thinking, allowing such a handsome face to get injured like this? If the ladies of Japan saw you looking like this, they would all cry!”

Todoroki’s eyes widen slightly. “Really? How come?”

While Bakugou rolls his eyes, you answer, “Because nothing is sadder to a girl than seeing a handsome guy’s face get ruined! Looks like yours should be treasured, not treated like this! Doesn’t Ganga Orca realize a face like yours will eventually become one of Japan’s greatest treasures?!”

He continues to stare at you in amazement. “I didn’t realize my face was so important.”

Bakugou scoffs, “It’s not. Sensei’s just exaggerating. The only thing that stands out about your face is how fucking annoying it is.”

Just as you’re about to scold the hothead for his words, an idea comes to mind, making you grin. “Aw, Bakugou, is that jealousy I hear? Are you upset that I'm complimenting Todoroki’s face and not yours?”

His face reddens. “Hah?! Don’t be stupid! Like I give a fuck about that!”

Your grin grows. “I dunno. You sure sounded jealous to me.”

“There’s no need to be jealous, Bakugou.” Todoroki calmly says, “You have a nice face too.”

While you snort at Todoroki’s innocent compliment, Bakugou glowers at him. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Half-and-Half?! I’ll kill you!”

Confused, Todoroki tilts his head. “No? Why would you think that?”

Before Bakugou can retort, you intervene. “Todoroki is right, though. You do have a handsome face just like he does, Bakugou.”

With a grin, you add, “Although, I’m worried about it going to waste, considering how much you’re always scowling. You know, if you keep making faces like that, your face might get stuck like that forever.”

Todoroki frowns, “That wouldn’t be good. You should be careful, Bakugou, so that won’t happen.”

As you fight the urge to laugh at the stoic boy’s show of genuine concern, Bakugou’s scowl deepens. “It won’t! So, fuck off! Nobody asked for either of your opinions!”

Chuckling, you finish up bandaging the rest of Todoroki’s injuries. “Just giving you a friendly warning. After all, you want to surpass All Might, don’t you?”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Once you’ve taken care of Todoroki, you begin tending to the blond’s injuries, taking full advantage of his distraction caused by your earlier comment. “In order to fully surpass All Might, you have to beat him in all aspects, right? Well, that obviously means you’ll have to have a smile that can outshine his, don’t you think?”

“That makes sense.” Todoroki agrees, “After all, when anyone thinks of All Might, one of the first things that come to mind is his smile since it’s so iconic.”

You give him a wink. “Exactly! If anyone ever hopes to beat All Might, then they better have a smile that can rival his. Otherwise, he’ll always remain number one in that category.”

When you return your focus to Bakugou, you see him frowning, wearing a contemplative expression. Obviously, he’s taking your words into serious consideration.

Smiling, you finish bandaging one of his scrapes before ruffling his hair, making him scowl. “You’re amazing, Bakugou. There’s no question about that. You’re strong, smart, and talented among many other things.”

“However,” You raise a finger. “there is one important ability you and Todoroki both need to master before either of you can become the kind of pro hero who can surpass All Might.”

While Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you, Todoroki curiously asks, “And what ability is that?”

Your earlier smile returns as you turn to point at his and Bakugou’s chests. “The ability to capture people’s hearts by touching their hearts and making your own hearts more apparent to the people you’re trying to protect.”

Noticing their twin looks of confusion, you elaborate, “The reason All Might was such an amazing hero wasn’t just because he was strong and talented. It was because he was amazing at touching people’s hearts by showing them his own.”

You rest a hand over your heart. “All Might gave people hope because they knew that no matter what he would always protect them, not just because he was the strongest but because he genuinely cared about everyone. Everyone could tell that he would always go beyond Plus Ultra to protect them because he considered them all equally important.”

Your expression softens. “That’s how I felt whenever I watched him on TV and in my visions. I could see how much he cared about others and how nothing was more important to him than maintaining the peace and giving others hope.”

When you lift your gaze to look at your students, you see them watching you intently, wearing contemplative expressions, proving that they’re deeply considering your words.

“Real heroes have the ability to not only save people’s lives but also their hearts,” You softly say, “and to some people, the latter is the most important ability a hero can have.”

“And that includes you?” Bakugou solemnly asks as he holds your gaze.

The corners of your lips curve upwards. “It does, because I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for heroes that could save people’s hearts. That’s why I hope that you promising heroes-to-be will one day master that ability too.”

“I use the term ‘master’ because I’ve already experienced firsthand you both using such an ability. Although, I’m sure it wasn’t really intentional on either of your parts.” You add, earning some surprised looks from your students.

As you’re speaking, you think back to the I-Island incident and how Todoroki refused to leave your side and was determined to get you the medical attention you needed. Then, your memories drift toward the villain attack at the summer camp and how Bakugou refused to abandon you, even though it meant putting himself at risk.

Your smile softens. “One day, you both will able to intentionally touch people’s hearts in the same way you did mine. I have complete confidence in both of you since I know there’s nothing you two can’t do if you put your minds to it, so I have no doubt that you’ll both become amazing heroes that can outshine even All Might.”

For several seconds, your students just stare at you with slightly widened eyes, and then, Bakugou smirks, “Of course, I fucking will! I’m the guy who’s gonna be the next number one hero who surpasses All Might in every shape and form! I’ll master every fucking aspect of being a hero there is, so I’ll be the unequivocal number one!”

Todoroki nods, “I’ll work hard too, Sensei, to become a hero who can save lives and hearts. I won’t let you down.”

Grinning, you reach over to ruffle their hair. “I know. You two are always meeting and surpassing my expectations. This time won’t be any different.”

Both boys’ eyes gain a pleased gleam at your words, but Bakugou tries to hide it by averting his gaze. Rather than tease him about it, you just resume taking care of the rest of his injuries.

As you’re doing this, Todoroki asks, “Do you think our training for our provisional licenses will help us get a better understanding of touching people’s hearts, or is that something we’re supposed to learn during our lessons here at UA?”

You hum thoughtfully. “I’m not sure what all the training for your provisional licenses entails, so I can’t say for sure about that. But as far as your school lessons are concerned, I’m sure you’ll eventually get lessons focused on that aspect of heroics. Although, I would think heroes-in-training would mostly get those kinds of lessons when they’re out in the field.”

Bakugou tilts his head. “Because it means interacting with actual civilians?”

Nodding, you give him an approving smile. “Exactly. The best way for heroes to touch people’s hearts is by learning how to understand the people they’re protecting, which happens by getting closer to them. Doing this helps both parties come to learn more about each other, which leads to trust building between them.”

After you finish tending to the last of Bakugou’s injuries, you begin putting up everything that you took out of the first aid kit. “Trust is key to touching people’s hearts. It’s important that you both become the kind of hero that people know they can trust and rely on no matter what happens.”

Once everything has been put away, you turn to face your students and smile, “You both have already proven to me that you’re strong and capable heroes that I can rely on and trust. Now, you just have to figure out how to do that with everyone else. It won’t be easy since social interactions aren’t really either of your forte, but I know you both can do it.”

While Todoroki gives you a determined nod, Bakugou just averts his gaze with a huff. “Obviously.”

Getting an idea, you cheerfully clap your hands together. “However, as your teacher, I shouldn’t make you do all that hard work without, at least, first imparting a little helpful advice.”

Once you have their undivided attention, you continue, “Obviously, as I mentioned before, one of the main things you both need to do is develop your own hero smile, so by the time you guys graduate, you must have a smile that can put everyone’s hearts at ease.”

As expected, Bakugou makes a face at your words while Todoroki just gives you another nod. Obviously, that one task in itself is going to be difficult for them due their personalities and typical demeanors, but you know smiling isn’t impossible for them. It’s just not something they choose to often do.

There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, as far as their daily lives are concerned. It’s only when they’re on the field, working as pro heroes, that they need to be able to implement what you consider to be one of a hero’s most important assets.

Once you’ve reaffirmed the importance of that ability, you decide to share the idea you came up with earlier. “Another important thing you two should work on is communicating with the people you’re supposed to protect in a way that will assure them that everything will be alright now that you’re there for them.”

With a grin, you wink, “And you should also make good use of those good looks you both have while you’re at it to win their hearts over even more.”

While Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you, Todoroki gives you a curious look. “How do we do that?”

Your grin grows. “I’ll show you! Just pretend you’re a civilian who got caught up in a villain attack, alright?”

Once you get a nod from him, you grab Todoroki’s hands and hold them in between yours. As he stares at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion, you hold his gaze and give him the most reassuring smile you can muster. “It’ll be alright. You’re safe now. I’m here, so you don’t need to worry anymore. I’ll protect you no matter what. I won’t let anyone lay a single finger on you.”’

You give his hands a reassuring squeeze as your smile softens. “So, don’t be scared. A look like that doesn’t suit your handsome face. The world would be much better off if you were smiling instead since a smile like yours can make even the darkest of days seem bright. That’s why I’ll fight with everything I have to protect that precious smile; I won’t let anyone ever take it away, I promise.”

While Bakugou gapes at you, Todoroki stares at you with slightly widened eyes. Obviously, you caught them both completely off guard with your performance.

When a few seconds pass without a response, you release Todoroki’s hands and grin, “So, what do you think, Todoroki? Did I make your heart skip a beat just now?”

He rests a hand over his heart. “There weren’t any irregularities with my heartbeat, but…”

“But?” You parrot, tilting your head curiously.

“My chest feels very warm now, all of a sudden.” Todoroki replies, “How strange.”

Giggling, you ruffle his hair. “That’s what it means to touch people’s hearts, Todoroki. That’s the kind of reaction you should be aiming for when you interact with the people you’re trying to protect.”

His expression appears thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I remember feeling similarly whenever I watched All Might on TV when I was a child. So, this is what it means to touch people’s hearts.”

Todoroki lifts his gaze to meet yours and gives you a small smile. “Thank you for showing me that, Sensei. I promise I’ll make good use of your example and your advice.”

“I have no doubt that you will.” You pat his head. “I have high hopes for you, Todoroki.”

When you later pull your hand away from his head, Todoroki adds, “I promise I’ll also take better care of my face in the future since I don’t want you or any of the other ladies of Japan to cry.”

A laugh escapes you. “Good to hear! You gotta take good care of that face of yours since it’s gonna be one of your greatest assets when you’re a pro hero.”

Bakugou, who has been quiet all this time, finally breaks his silence with a scoff. “Only if he ever learns how to stop being so fucking annoying all the time.”

While you give him an exasperated look, Bakugou rises to his feet and asks, “Are we done here, Sensei?”

With a sigh, you nod, “Yeah, I’m done treating both of your injuries, so you two are free to go. Sorry for keeping you both up when I’m sure you’re both beyond exhausted.”

Todoroki shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize. If anything, we should be thanking you for staying up late for our sake. Right, Bakugou?”

The blond clicks his tongue. “Whatever.”

While the boys move to collect their briefcases containing their hero costumes, you quickly return the first aid kit to the kitchen before rejoining them in the living room. As you all begin heading for the elevators, you ask, “So, what did you think of the example I provided for Todoroki, Bakugou? Do you think that’s something you can do?”

“Of course, I can!” Bakugou huffs, “There’s nothing I can’t do, so I won’t have any issue doing something like that.”

Even though he says that, you have a feeling accomplishing such a task will be more difficult than he thinks once he finally tries it out, considering his less than ideal social skills. While you have full faith in him, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll struggle with this aspect of heroics for at least a little while since it’s completely foreign territory to him.

“I’m not as confident as Bakuguou since I’m not used to doing something like that, but I’m going to work hard.” Todoroki comments, “Hopefully, by the time we get our provisional licenses, I’ll be ready to try touching people’s hearts.”

“It might take you a little while, but you’ll definitely get there, Todoroki.” You assure him. “Until then, just keep working hard and doing your best like you always do.”

Around that time, the three of you come to a stop in front of the elevators. Just as you’re about to hit the button for the elevator you’ll be taking, you suddenly realize you had almost forgotten something very important. “I almost forgot!”

Both Todoroki and Bakugou, who were about to enter the elevator which will take them to the boys’ side of the dorm, pause at your exclamation.

Before either of them can question you, you reach over to pat their heads, smiling all the while. “Welcome home, Bakugou, Todoroki. Good work today. I’m proud of you both.”

The two stare at you with surprise for a brief moment, and then, their features relax.

A slight smile rises to Todoroki’s lips. “I’m home, Sensei. Also, thank you for dinner and for taking care of my injuries.”

Bakugou averts his gaze. “I’m home.”

After a brief pause, he then mutters, “And thanks.”

Immediately, after those two words passes his lips, Bakugou hurries into the elevator before you can say anything else. Not wanting to be left behind, Todoroki quickly follows after him.

Chuckling, you give them a parting wave. “Good night, you two. See you in the morning.”

Just before the elevator door closes, Todoroki returns the parting. You don’t hear anything from Bakugou, but you figure that’s to be expected.

With a smile, you turn to enter the elevator that will take you to the girls’ side of the dorm. As you’re riding the elevator, you think back to the discussion you had with Todoroki and Bakugou.

Those two definitely both have the potential to become the kinds of heroes that can save people’s hearts. It won’t be easy, but I have full faith that they can overcome any obstacles that come their way.

Just as you think that, your Quirk activates, showing you a vision of your students in the midst of their provisional license training.

Feeling a mixture of amused and surprised, you watch as Ganga Orca declares that Bakugou, Todoroki, Inasa, and the girl Toga impersonated, Utsushimi Camie, all have to participate in a special training where they have to win the hearts of a bunch of primary schoolers since he says what the heroes-in-training need is “heart”.

Seems like Ganga Orca and I were on the same page. What are the chances?

Looks like Todoroki will be getting a lesson on touching people’s hearts during his provisional license training after all. Unfortunately for him, it won’t be an easy lesson, considering how those primary schoolers have no interest in listening to anyone, not even the teacher they came with.

Of course, you still believe that your students can accomplish such a lofty task. You just have no idea how since you hadn’t considered giving them lessons on how to talk to small children.

That’s why you’re very eager to see what happens next in this vision since you want to see what your students will do. Just how will they win these children’s hearts?

Unfortunately, you don’t get all the details you were hoping for since a time skip occurs in your vision, preventing you from seeing how Todoroki and Bakugou will react to the crazy situation Ganga Orca has put them in.

Your disappointment doesn’t last long, however, when, after the time skip, you see all the children happily playing with the four students in charge of winning them over.

All you can do is smile when you see all the smiling primary schoolers playing on large ice slides that were obviously made by Todoroki. Those are some great smiles you put on their faces, Todoroki. Good job. I knew you could do it.

Your smile grows when you see Bakugou telling a kid that he won’t be able to recognize his own weaknesses if he’s always looking down on others. Well said, Bakugou. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.

Around that time, your vision comes to an end, just as the elevator doors open. As you move to exit the elevator, an immense rush of pride washes over you, making you beam.

You’re amazing, Todoroki, Bakugou. You two really can do anything when you set your minds to it. Looks like you’re gonna soon be one step closer to becoming the heroes you’re both striving to become.

And you couldn’t be more proud.

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 26

first time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Drunken love confessions and other emotional constipation. A threesome between two awesome facial hair bros and reader. I'm absolutely unhappy with how this turned out because a certain sorcerer insisted on being super soft in this one. But at least there's porn...

On the same note, how do we feel about introducing more m/m action? I am a total slut for bisexual boys. I can't help the gay it just comes out...

I danced with Tony briefly as the drinks finally caught up to him. The ex-playboy certainly defended his title: he had impeccable sense of rhythm and we swayed on the floor in tandem, bothering very little with hiding how hot we were for each other. Grinding our hips together, my ass on his dick, Tony was half-hard and I felt it all through the layers of tulle of my skirt and leather of his pants. Now and then his hands wandered, shamelessly squeezing my breasts and my ass, his mouth leaving a blazing hot trail on my neck and my shoulders.

I wasn't far behind. Tony's hair was all kinds of messed up thanks to my own hands and his ass found itself in the very same palms far more than once. "It's a shame Bruce doesn't dance," I pouted drunkenly, receiving an equally intoxicated noise of vague approval. "The three of us are perfect," I stated something that had been boiling over in my head quite a bit.

Tony nodded again. "Yeah," He was far more touchy than usual; his lips landed in my hair right next to my ear. "Bet we can get Merlin, though. I saw him with Natasha earlier," Tony went in to kiss my cheek and missed again, sloppily smooching my temple.

"He has no business being that fuckin' hot," I spit out petulantly without a second thought.

"You're fuckin' right and you should say it," Tony agreed instantly, both of us wearing almost identical, indignant expressions. We paused for a moment, looking deeply into each other's eyes - or, well, we tried to. Drinks and drugs tended to make focusing quite hard. "So we're doing this?" Tony squinted questioningly.

"What about Bruce?" I immediately replied, mind going back to the way my sciency boyfriend was smirking at my and Tony's reaction to Stephen's grand entrance.

"He's okayed any and all our ventures provided we tell him about it," Tony said after a moment of stunned silence.

I chewed on my lip in muted amusement. "What's, he's got, like, a kink?" I tried to articulate my confusion. "And we somehow ended up, I mean all three of us - without talking?" I voiced my concerns. This conversation was really overdue and I'll be damned if that weren't the drugs making me talk. I would probably regret it in the morning...

Tony's eyes softened immediately, a palm raising to trace the side of my face lovingly and gently. "Me and Bruce had a conversation about... You. We both liked you, it's fucking impossible to dislike you, have you seen you? We had decided to let you choose at first, woved for it to not get in the way of our friendship..." He trailed off, looking sheepish and slurring his words slightly. The alcohol had loosened his lips too. I felt only the thump of the bassline, music fading away into the background, my ears hearing only the words leaving Tony's mouth. "I doubt it would have worked out anyways. But you..." He cupped my face. "You gave us everything."

I would have cried if not for the chemicals in my system. My mouth formed a smile on it's own accord and I reached closer to slot it over Tony's shaky grin, bringing us into a slow and sloppy kiss that lasted what felt like years. "I love you, okay? You and Bruce," I spit out the words I desperately wanted to say for so long. Nothing really mattered in the moment, it was just me and Tony and our shared feelings. It wasn't bizarre anymore, loving someone and being loved back.

"Me too, Princess, me too," Tony whispered, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. One of the many advantages of having a boyfriend that wasn't a six-foot tall muscle-bound fricking bastard.

"We have a mission," I reminded him after another song slowly transitioned into a different one. "But I'm also craving a cigarette."

Tony's hand encompassesed mine as he led the way to the patio where the smokers area was located. Bucky's shiny metal arm stood out amongst the partygoers and we made a beeline for him. I bummed a cigarette off him despite Steve's prominent frown and Bucky was even gentleman enough to light it up for me.

We needn't have looked for Strange, it was a few minutes after I'd taken my first drag that he appeared, spouting like a mushroom right after a rainfall. He was frowning. "Caught some douchebag trying to roofie a girl," He explained. Barnes gave him a cigarette without question, trading a dark look with Steve. "Natasha and Loki are taking care of it," Strange supplied, jerking a hand towards the back of the room.

Barnes eyed Tony until the latter gave a short, resigned nod. "Just don't do anything that will land me in the papers," The billionaire sighed before speaking several short commands into a bracelet that served as a direct communication device with Friday. "I raised the security monitors for any suspicious activity too. Put in an earpiece and Friday will notify you if someone else tries to act funny," Tony finished darkly, eyeing Stephen's shaking hands.

I choose to stay silent throughout the interaction, letting the pissed off men to blow off some steam before approaching them. Barnes' cigs migrated into my hands and I watched the tense, retreating backs of the super-soldiers until only the three of us were left in a comfortable silence. I waited until the man was done with his cancer stick and promptly grabbed his hands, gently but firmly stroking the scarred skin.

Tony leaned on the railing, watching us with open interest.

Strange cocked a curious eyebrow but didn't retract his hands, releasing a quiet sigh when my movements successfully calmed the tremors. "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of being... Nice," He spoke after a moment.

"I know," I replied dryly. "But being nice all the time is boring."

"A day with you is never boring," Tony winked at us teasingly, noticing me step further into the sorcerer's personal space. His eyes were still glowing and whatever spell he had put on himself was still working, attracting me to him like a magnet.

Stephen looked to the side, at Tony, then at me, before gently pulling out a single hand and making an elaborate gesture that made his skin briefly shimmer. The unnatural pull disappeared - me and Tony both exhaled heavily - yet the appreciation for Stephen's lithe, agile form remained. He was a beautifully made man.

Tony made his own move, a signature of his, placing a steady palm on the taller man's back and looking up at Stephen through his eyelashes. The fresh air had sobered both of us up by quite a bit and our coordination returned.

Stephen smirked slightly, running his eyes over the crowd of partygoers gathered around us. Nobody was paying any particular attention to the three of us yet all of us were acutely aware how much damage could be done by a stray snapshot, an accidental Snapchat feature, or something drunkenly posted on public social media by an absolute stranger. Tony and Strange threw each other a secretive, heated glance while I pressed myself closer to Tony, still caressing one of Stephen's hands. To the public, it was nothing more than a friendly gesture to help out a close friend out of his discomfort.

"Your place? I'm afraid mine's a mess," Stephen asked, uncharacteristically dorky and overused pick-up line.

"Lead the way," Tony smirked, both of us sharing a muted giggle at the doctor's antics. In response, Stephen extracted his other hand from my grasp and waved them about in the familiar gesture of creating a portal. On the other side of the circle was the familiar scenery of Tony's penthouse bedroom, sheets, as always, unmade and my fluffy socks hanging half-way off the comforter.

I pulled both men into the circle by their forearms, making quick in hopes everybody around us was too drunk to take note of the surroundings on the other side of the portal. An obscenely large bed in plain view didn't leave much space for speculation.

I sat down on it, taking my time to observe the curious interaction between two men in front of me. The sexual tension between them was undeniable, it crackled in the space between their bodies, lit an unholy fire in their eyes. If I was completely honest with myself - Stephen was hot, but Stephen and Tony together, it was out of this world and I would have been very content to just hang back and watch the two of them going at it.

Untying and toeing off my shoes had me distracted for a brief moment - evidently enough for Stephen to lose his pretense and roughly grab Tony by his face, smashing their lips together gracelessly. Tony's hands grasped the expensive fabric of Stephen's blazer with a force that was equal to the one gathering in the low of my belly. The dress I wore was now carefully thrown over a nearby lounge chair, leaving me in a set of golden bra and tiny panties. It was a gift from Tony: he loved when I wore his colors.

My almost bare body got their attention: panting, they broke apart to stare at me, their gazes hungry enough to make me shiver and feel like prey. Tony's arms sandwiched me between them, letting Stephen's lips to taste mine for the first time. The sorcerer did not hesitate, he plunged his tongue into my mouth and immediately seized command of the kiss. He kissed like he fought, sharply, with precision and demand.

I popped the buttons on his shirt as he explored my mouth, finding the skin of his chest taut and textured with a multitude of smaller, thinner scars. He was built like a runner, or a swimmer, all lean muscle and sculpted hipbones and neatly stacked ribs. His shirt suffered a haste demise.

The thuds and jingles accompanied by quiet cursing behind my back alerted me to Tony's struggle with his intricately made costume. "Can you boom-boom-whoosh it away?" I asked Stephen.

He pulled away with an amused smirk, waving his glowing hands about. "Do what now?"

"It's what the internet calls your voodoo shit, don't quote me," Tony snarked, suddenly finding himself wearing only his boxers. I was promptly pulled to his chest, in what I knew was a defensive gesture - he hated showing off the scarred area around his arc reactor. He used to hide it from me, too.

Stephen hummed, once again waving his hands about in a surprisingly complicated set of motions. I was mesmerised by his hands - even despite the injuries, they remained as skilled and perplexing. Once Stephen was left in his underwear, I wasted no time in detaching from Tony and steering the sorcerer to fall freely into the large bed.

"You need to stop being so smug," I stated, climbing on top of Stephen and claiming his lips for myself. "It's bound to get you in trouble."

"Is that so?" And still, the man looked as satisfied as the cat who ate the canary. That just won't do.

"Tones, help me out, I'm trying to see smtn'," I asked, feeling the man settle in next to me and trace a gentle hand down my side, over my breast and down to the flat of Stephen's belly. The man under me shivered, face slowly heating up.

"Yes, dear?" My engineer supplied helpfully.

"Off," With a sudden change of pace, I snapped the elastic of Stephen's boxers, causing the man to jump and the very sizeable bulge in them twitch. Tony obediently pulled down the offending piece of clothing, causing Stephen to groan as the cool air hit the heated flesh of his most sensitive spots.

I settled between his thighs, spitting in my palm and giving his long cock a few solid strokes, enjoying the way his hips seemed to involuntarily follow the movement of my slick palm.

"I'd brace myself if I were you," Tony remarked teasingly, bending down to kiss the sorcerer again. Between my and Tony's mouths, Steph really didn't stand a chance.

The obscenely long moan that left his mouth was swallowed by Tony as my lips and tongue made to wrap around the very tip of Stephen's cock. I tasted the musk and the salt of him as I made down his long cock, taking extra time to warm up my throat for the incoming intrusion. And when I finally swallowed him, to the hilt, I swear I felt the way his body shook.

There was a lot more noise coming from the two men - I briefly lifted my eyes to see Stephen sucking a hickey onto the side of Tony's neck with a vigour, Tony's hand holding onto Stephen's hair as the taller man palmed the shorter man's bulge through his boxers.

I was pretty sure my juices were flowing down my thighs. The two men were a Sight; the drugs and booze in my system had me reaching new levels of arousal, levels I previously didn't even know existed. A needy noise left my lips, muffled by the delicious cock stretching them and I knew it was time to grant myself the thing I had been craving for so long.

Swiftly, I pulled off Stephen's cock and sat down into his lap, grinding my panty-covered mound atop his erection that laid on his belly, twitching and leaking. "You want a condom? We're clean and I'm on birth control," I offered.

"I'm clean, feel free to..." Stephen detached his mouth from Tony just long enough to mutter consent, immediately going back to taste the engineer's skin and mark it with his lips and teeth. By the time I she'd my underwear and slid down on his sizeable cock, I had noticed the necklace of blues and reds decorating Tony's neck and clavicles.

"Fuck, yessss..." I hissed, the emptiness within me finally fed. Experimentally raising my hips up and down a few times, I quickly found a rhythm that made for sinful noises to fall from both of our lips. Tony was whining, too, in impatience. "Tony, wanna try something?"

That piqued his interest. He looked at me, eyes unfocused and blown with lust. "Hm?" As Steph continued satiating his hunger for Tony's skin.

I carefully considered it before speaking. "Get behind me," I ordered breathily, slowing my pace just enough to keep me tethering on the brink of release.

"We need lube," He mumbled immediately, catching my drift - well, not quite.

"Nope, we don't. I can take both of you," I stated, bending over and spreading my legs a little wider. With Tony and Bruce, it would have been impossible considering the fact that Bruce's cock was as thick as a fuckin' coke can, but with Stephen being a little more reasonably sized... I must admit, I was curious. It certainly looked interesting enough in porn. Plus, it would allow the two men to feel each other-

"Fuckin' hell," Stephen groaned, one hand gripping my hip to steady himself. So that was a definite yes. "Princess, you're killing me here."

Tony took all of a whole second to get in position and spit in his hand, adding extra lubrication just in case. Thoughtful Tony. He needn't have worried, however - every inch from my thighs to Steph's balls was covered in my juices. To say that I was turned on would have been a massive fuckin' understatement.

"Fu-uck, you're so good, baby," Tony groaned. I felt the tip of his cock breach and stretch my entrance, finding the sting not painful but rather pleasurable. Inch by inch, I felt myself open up. The sensations were incredibly powerful, my release approaching even despite the steady slow movements that Tony was making.

"Harder," I begged, feeling my release approach with the force of a freight train. Both men complied, falling into a careful but powerful rhythm, shaking me to the core with each precise thrust. It didn't take long for me to clench and spasm around the cocks, making both men pick up the pace, their movements turning sloppy. My own imagination supplied the extra mile, figuring their cocks rubbing against each other inside my sloppy wet hole made it feel twice as intense.

Tony wrapped his forearm around my throat, putting a healthy arch to my back - I didn't know whose cock was hitting just the right spot and I didn't care. My eyes met Stephen's - he was watching me come undone, worrying his lip between his teeth, his own eyes darting between my and Tony's face. In a split second decision, I took hold of one of his hands and popped the index and middle fingers into my mouth, softly sucking on them, covering the digits in my little gasps and moans

Stephen's back arched and Tony groaned, stuttering his hips in response. As soon as the little crease between the sorcerer's eyebrows made a humble appearance, he was coming. "Fuck!" He yelped hoarsely, painting my insides and Tony's cock white. The engineer dropped his head onto my shoulders, panting, getting a few stuttered thrusts and he was coming, too, jerking almost violently behind me.

Him shoving his cock as deeply as possible within me triggered another wave of bliss for me. I followed the two men, gasping around the fingers in my mouth and behind the unyielding strength of Tony's arm. I felt wrung out, like a paper bag scrunched up and used...

In the best way. It was incredibly hot. The realisation that I had been marked by two glorious men from the inside out made me shiver and the men in question twitch in response to the involuntary flutter my pussy had done from my thoughts.

"Woah," Tony mumbled, gently pulling out of my sore and sloppy hole.

"Yeah," Stephen was finally speechless and tranquil. A picture of serendipity, really, with his arm thrown comfortably over his head and a sated little smirk on his face.

I couldn't resist pecking him on the lips as I slid off his body to nest myself between him and Tony who still seemed to be catching his breath. "You should be like this more often," I stated, feeling myself slip into drowsiness.

"Gimme a reason," Stephen mumbled, barely a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Oh we will," Tony finished darkly, throwing a sheet over the three of us and settling a comfortable arm across my waist, palm flat on Stephen's tummy. Last thing I heard before I fell into a deep sleep was Stephen's blunt nails scratching softly along Tony's scalp.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#Stephen Strange x reader x Tony Stark #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark smut #stephen strange smut #party favours #bun writes

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weil-weil-lautre · 4 years ago

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By Jonathan Franzen September 8, 2019

“There is infinite hope,” Kafka tells us, “only not for us.” This is a fittingly mystical epigram from a writer whose characters strive for ostensibly reachable goals and, tragically or amusingly, never manage to get any closer to them. But it seems to me, in our rapidly darkening world, that the converse of Kafka’s quip is equally true: There is no hope, except for us.

I’m talking, of course, about climate change. The struggle to rein in global carbon emissions and keep the planet from melting down has the feel of Kafka’s fiction. The goal has been clear for thirty years, and despite earnest efforts we’ve made essentially no progress toward reaching it. Today, the scientific evidence verges on irrefutable. If you’re younger than sixty, you have a good chance of witnessing the radical destabilization of life on earth—massive crop failures, apocalyptic fires, imploding economies, epic flooding, hundreds of millions of refugees fleeing regions made uninhabitable by extreme heat or permanent drought. If you’re under thirty, you’re all but guaranteed to witness it.

If you care about the planet, and about the people and animals who live on it, there are two ways to think about this. You can keep on hoping that catastrophe is preventable, and feel ever more frustrated or enraged by the world’s inaction. Or you can accept that disaster is coming, and begin to rethink what it means to have hope.

Even at this late date, expressions of unrealistic hope continue to abound. Hardly a day seems to pass without my reading that it’s time to “roll up our sleeves” and “save the planet”; that the problem of climate change can be “solved” if we summon the collective will. Although this message was probably still true in 1988, when the science became fully clear, we’ve emitted as much atmospheric carbon in the past thirty years as we did in the previous two centuries of industrialization. The facts have changed, but somehow the message stays the same.

Psychologically, this denial makes sense. Despite the outrageous fact that I’ll soon be dead forever, I live in the present, not the future. Given a choice between an alarming abstraction (death) and the reassuring evidence of my senses (breakfast!), my mind prefers to focus on the latter. The planet, too, is still marvelously intact, still basically normal—seasons changing, another election year coming, new comedies on Netflix—and its impending collapse is even harder to wrap my mind around than death. Other kinds of apocalypse, whether religious or thermonuclear or asteroidal, at least have the binary neatness of dying: one moment the world is there, the next moment it’s gone forever. Climate apocalypse, by contrast, is messy. It will take the form of increasingly severe crises compounding chaotically until civilization begins to fray. Things will get very bad, but maybe not too soon, and maybe not for everyone. Maybe not for me.

Some of the denial, however, is more willful. The evil of the Republican Party’s position on climate science is well known, but denial is entrenched in progressive politics, too, or at least in its rhetoric. The Green New Deal, the blueprint for some of the most substantial proposals put forth on the issue, is still framed as our last chance to avert catastrophe and save the planet, by way of gargantuan renewable-energy projects. Many of the groups that support those proposals deploy the language of “stopping” climate change, or imply that there’s still time to prevent it. Unlike the political right, the left prides itself on listening to climate scientists, who do indeed allow that catastrophe is theoretically avertable. But not everyone seems to be listening carefully. The stress falls on the word theoretically.

Our atmosphere and oceans can absorb only so much heat before climate change, intensified by various feedback loops, spins completely out of control. Some scientists and policymakers fear that we’re in danger of passing this point of no return if the global mean temperature rises by more than two degrees Celsius (maybe more, but also maybe less). The I.P.C.C.—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change—tells us that, to limit the rise to less than two degrees, we not only need to reverse the trend of the past three decades. We need to approach zero net emissions, globally, in the next three decades.

This is, to say the least, a tall order. It also assumes that you trust the I.P.C.C.’s calculations. New research, described last month in Scientific American, demonstrates that climate scientists, far from exaggerating the threat of climate change, have underestimated its pace and severity. To project the rise in the global mean temperature, scientists rely on complicated atmospheric modelling. They take a host of variables and run them through supercomputers to generate, say, ten thousand different simulations for the coming century, in order to make a “best” prediction of the rise in temperature. When a scientist predicts a rise of two degrees Celsius, she’s merely naming a number about which she’s very confident: the rise will be at least two degrees. The rise might, in fact, be far higher.

As a non-scientist, I do my own kind of modelling. I run various future scenarios through my brain, apply the constraints of human psychology and political reality, take note of the relentless rise in global energy consumption (thus far, the carbon savings provided by renewable energy have been more than offset by consumer demand), and count the scenarios in which collective action averts catastrophe. The scenarios, which I draw from the prescriptions of policymakers and activists, share certain necessary conditions.

The first condition is that every one of the world’s major polluting countries institute draconian conservation measures, shut down much of its energy and transportation infrastructure, and completely retool its economy. According to a recent paper in Nature, the carbon emissions from existing global infrastructure, if operated through its normal lifetime, will exceed our entire emissions “allowance”—the further gigatons of carbon that can be released without crossing the threshold of catastrophe. (This estimate does not include the thousands of new energy and transportation projects already planned or under construction.) To stay within that allowance, a top-down intervention needs to happen not only in every country but throughout every country. Making New York City a green utopia will not avail if Texans keep pumping oil and driving pickup trucks.

The actions taken by these countries must also be the right ones. Vast sums of government money must be spent without wasting it and without lining the wrong pockets. Here it’s useful to recall the Kafkaesque joke of the European Union’s biofuel mandate, which served to accelerate the deforestation of Indonesia for palm-oil plantations, and the American subsidy of ethanol fuel, which turned out to benefit no one but corn farmers.

Finally, overwhelming numbers of human beings, including millions of government-hating Americans, need to accept high taxes and severe curtailment of their familiar life styles without revolting. They must accept the reality of climate change and have faith in the extreme measures taken to combat it. They can’t dismiss news they dislike as fake. They have to set aside nationalism and class and racial resentments. They have to make sacrifices for distant threatened nations and distant future generations. They have to be permanently terrified by hotter summers and more frequent natural disasters, rather than just getting used to them. Every day, instead of thinking about breakfast, they have to think about death.

Call me a pessimist or call me a humanist, but I don’t see human nature fundamentally changing anytime soon. I can run ten thousand scenarios through my model, and in not one of them do I see the two-degree target being met.

To judge from recent opinion polls, which show that a majority of Americans (many of them Republican) are pessimistic about the planet’s future, and from the success of a book like David Wallace-Wells’s harrowing “The Uninhabitable Earth,” which was released this year, I’m not alone in having reached this conclusion. But there continues to be a reluctance to broadcast it. Some climate activists argue that if we publicly admit that the problem can’t be solved, it will discourage people from taking any ameliorative action at all. This seems to me not only a patronizing calculation but an ineffectual one, given how little progress we have to show for it to date. The activists who make it remind me of the religious leaders who fear that, without the promise of eternal salvation, people won’t bother to behave well. In my experience, nonbelievers are no less loving of their neighbors than believers. And so I wonder what might happen if, instead of denying reality, we told ourselves the truth.

First of all, even if we can no longer hope to be saved from two degrees of warming, there’s still a strong practical and ethical case for reducing carbon emissions. In the long run, it probably makes no difference how badly we overshoot two degrees; once the point of no return is passed, the world will become self-transforming. In the shorter term, however, half measures are better than no measures. Halfway cutting our emissions would make the immediate effects of warming somewhat less severe, and it would somewhat postpone the point of no return. The most terrifying thing about climate change is the speed at which it’s advancing, the almost monthly shattering of temperature records. If collective action resulted in just one fewer devastating hurricane, just a few extra years of relative stability, it would be a goal worth pursuing.

#sorry for this essay it's for my #diss #quote #franzen #climate change #archivist #and i don't want to lose the text

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pen-observing · 4 years ago

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My Only One ii

Diavolo and you have been together for a century. While time flies, the last decade has not been kind to either of you. He is about to become the King and while you have subjected yourself to transformations, just to live with your beloved, the pressure is unending. You live your life publicly. It is no luxury. Not having an heir when 100 years have passed tears you apart- just as much as it divides those that you inevitably rule. A solution comes like the last ray of hope. Go to an enchanted fortress used for fixes of the worst kind. Subject yourself to even more hexes to have the possibility of producing an heir. It’s just for a year. A short time for those immortal. A long time for those in a complex relationship, especially when for the sake of efficiency, letters are the only means of communication you are allowed to have with outsiders.

Warnings: none (?)

i / _ / iii / iv

Month three of your stay marked the start of change. Usually the letters you receive are handed to you by the same people who make it hard to breathe. This time, however, Karasu flies in through the window that searches for a starry sky and lands on the table. Karasu, an old friend you could never forget about, slowly sets down the envelope and looks at you.

Was it gentleness? Could it have been a hesitant motion?

You already knew you were going to break the rule about communication, you simply had to.

Karasu still hasn’t spoken to you; hasn’t uttered a single word. You sit down at the table, equally hesitating like the first drop of summer rain. Something must be wrong.

The raven’s eyes watch your form. Karasu has watched over you since the beginning after all. Does this letter carry bad news? What happened to Diavolo? Your hands are numb as you reach for the golden seal. Your eyes are filled with chaos. Karasu finds it hard to observe you.

Complete silence washes over the room as the letter is opened. Your eyes become brighter as you begin to trace the words.

Karasu, quietly, finds it even harder to observe you.

The letter is from Diavolo himself. Nothing bad happened to the man you love. He is well, he is alive- he is uttering words of love and assurance directed at you. So, what is it with the unbearable pressure that never leaves the room?

Gently placing the pages down, only halfway done with savouring your beloved’s words, you gaze at Karasu. “So, my old friend; must I be the first one to say hello in this situation?”

You chuckle sadly; Karasu’s mood doesn’t change. You know that making pointless small talk is only a desperate attempt to prolong the inevitable bad news Karasu has. It is hard. Incredibly so. Here you are hidden in an enchanted fortress; alone. You know even less now than you did when you first came.

Time, curious time, is perceived in such a silly way.

How much does the land you need to rule plan to hide things from you?

Being aware of how hard this must be for Karasu as well, you make a choice without hesitation. There’s no avoiding and hiding from the truth in this place.

“Karasu, old friend, say it.” Your voice is flat. Your eyes are curious. Your fingers tap against the yellow pages gently. Restless.

“You know that I never bore any ill will towards you.”

A pause.

“You know I have never lied to you. My honesty towards you is a rule I never broke.”

An unbearable moment of silence.

“Like always- I must tell you the truth. Even provided that... it hurts us both.”

Just what does Karasu know that you do not? Just how much longer will your light not be enough?

“Tell me.” You are restless, your voice impatient. How does it feel to beg for an answer?

“My lady...Diavolo has-”

He has what? You finally received three pages of his pen! Was him being completely alright just a façade to bring you a sense of security?

“He has—brought-- an... another woman into your bedroom.”

Karasu looks into the starry sky; unable to gaze upon your immediate and wave-stopping hurt. Karasu wonders how the night dares to be so bright when a close person falls to ruin.

You do not say anything. You feel insufferable numbness. Your fingers stop their rhythm, your heart wails in silence. Your voice exists no longer. You have no ground to stand on. You have no hope to extend a hand to. Helpless. Utterly helpless.

Your eyes are empty as you look at the inked pages. In such a state any doll collector would be happy to have you in their home. Broken, with glassy eyes.

How much time did pass before the numbness finally created a path for a single tear to roll down your cheek? At least you can still feel something, my dear. How much time did pass before the first coherent thought came to you? Why, oh God why, why was it not filled with a small inkling of doubt?!

Why was your first thought piecing everything together?! Karasu would never lie to you! Diavolo knew what it meant to be with a human. He knew humanity and the respect that had to exist!

Did..

D-Did Diavolo shatter every promise? If he resisted such temptations would he be even be qualified as a future king?

Oh, my dear, think. Could a man that claimed love lie to you so easily without clues? Were you that easy to fool? What happened to a ruler must be strong?

In a frenzy your hands grabbed the pretty handwriting and tossed it out of the window. Why would Diavolo ever write three pages with his obligations if he was not feeling guilt? How dare your heart beat to words dripping with sweetness and honey?!

He was trying to hide the truth Karasu never could.

The claims of passion were an over exaggeration. Nothing more. You knew him well enough to realize that.

What comes for you now? The pages are scattered on the ground under the stars. I truly hope they weep with you.

(So uhmm...ya three parts not two I changed my mind-- Honestly I realized I needed this ‘filler’ chapter to write the main one haha. I feel like people are going to dislike me for this ahhh. I am sorry Diavolo hurt you like this.)

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me x reader #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #obey me imagines #swd obey me #I am completely new to this fandom why is my first fic about diavolo cheating

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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The Old West and Pig Baby Car!

I love Kez, she’s… SUCH a weird, chilled-out, unusually-attracted-to-anything little ding-bell! With her head constantly in the clouds and always sparkling like there’s stars obscuring her eyes… And her simplistic yet incredibly expressive design, those two beady eyes that as said, go stare into FOREVER…! And how she’s a remorseless disaster magnet and a weirdo who’s always vibing and on some weird wavelength that’s hard to understand, but once you get it, you get it!

Let me say it again, I ADORE how this show takes advantage of its premise and setting to always do something NEW with the characters, and I love how we’re building up to a conflict of Kez’s past enemies teaming up to get revenge! That seems to be a theme of this season so far, teamwork, coming together, etc., how ironic that collaboration is going to be a danger to the dynamic duo as well! Kez’s weird, clumsy, forgetful, and overall just… MOOD, and way of talk- I love her, I love her voice, she’s amazing! Also, I halfway called it with the sheriff caterpillar metamorphosizing… But into the judge, THAT I did not expect!

Also, it seems that in this world, only THREE things are constant- Death, Taxes, and Samantha the Cat! When I saw her I legit deadpanned my expression, but c’mon, we all saw it coming, and honestly she’s such a reassuring part of this show, in a sense; We know she’s always there and we can always count on her to be present, she’s SEEN some stuff and she’s a veteran in a sense! Weird thought, but could one say that Samantha is the true protagonist of the show, and the show is about her watching various passengers and their messes?

Perhaps a final book for the show would’ve had Samantha as the primary denizen, to round things up and cap it all off… Either way, I love seeing her differing roles and how she’s handled in each book- First as this unusual enemy and ally, then as a brief obstacle/cameo, then with emotional resonance and guilt and backstory… And it seems so far here, mostly just a cameo and an ally! It’s neat, I love seeing how Samantha’s story, brief as it may be sometimes, is handled in each book! Who knows, maybe Samantha is writing the books, and that’s why they’re called that! Now I’m waiting for Randall to show up…

And also, that GAG and cut to Samantha instantly flipping on a (literal) dime for money, even if she’s also collaborating with Kez, was hilarious and so wonderfully expressive of her character in a nutshell, even for veterans who’ve already SEEN her like this! Seems she hasn’t changed much, but with how she seemingly betrayed people, only with the plan to come back… Makes you wonder if that’s what she intended for her and Simon in that Cardboard Box Car with Ghom, only for Grace to inadvertently sidetrack things? Oh god, that’s dark- The idea that Grace unknowingly ruined things between Samantha and Simon, and that plays into Samantha disliking her… But at the same time, she doesn’t seem to hold things against Grace for it, so probably not.

But oof, that’d just play into Simon’s accusations of Grace ‘ruining’ him, while Grace wants to save and help others like with those kids in the Apex or Hazel, only to misunderstand… The concept of retroactive revelations to characters and thematic foreshadowing, SO GOOD, and it’s making me appreciate more this concept of a Book that takes place in the past, to establish additional context for previous and even later characters, perhaps!

Also, just… The colors, the zany hijinx and ideas, the premise for each car, the denizens- They’re all so wonderful and unique, and I applaud the crew for their creativity, for never letting things get old… Each car is such a fun place to get stuck in, well most of them… Pig Baby was unusual, and I can see what Owen was referencing with that one pig tweet! I think there’s a clever pun to be made in the way the numbers sync, almost like a duet for music… The motifs, man!

The jabs at post-war American cuisine were hilarious, and Ryan man… I’m glad to see him learn to cool down; But unfortunately, Min thinks it’s ONLY Ryan, and he doesn’t realize he has to collaborate as well! And I like that… This idea of like; Two people are both contributing to this mess equally, you can’t just pin the blame on one, and they BOTH have to make concessions and work together! It’s a contrast to Book 3, in that it seems Ryan and Min are actually slated to work things out, VS Simon and Grace… With Grace recognizing how the two of them screwed each other up, but Simon refusing to admit his fault! Duet then forms a duality with Cult of the Conductor, one about the downfall, the other about two reconciling… Hopefully, we’ll see later down the line.

It’s definitely going to be a hard pill for Min to swallow, that he also has stake in this issue- I wonder if he’s under this impression that… He’s more ‘mature’ than Ryan, and as a result, he doesn’t want to confront his part in the situation? Though to be fair, it could just be a matter of circumstance; Ryan was the first to have a puzzle dealing with his own fault, and Ryan was the one who got them on, so it makes sense that Min assumes it’s Ryan’s issue! But dang… I felt for Ryan at the end, I feel like he’s just incredibly lonely himself and desiring positive attention, to feel validated; Whilst Min sort of feels validated? At the very least, I don’t think it’s as much of an issue for him, whilst with Ryan he has to compete with his siblings…

Hopefully Ryan will be able to find that sort of positive attention, while also still respecting Min’s boundaries and his own needs as a person; Min can’t just attend to his every need, the way the Cow Creamer does for Pig Baby! Also, another random thought, but Kez’s very lax, go-with-the-flow attitude… Honestly, it kind of reminds me of like, the kind of partners that Ryan had, before he went back to Min maybe? I dunno, I recognize that Kez definitely has huge stoner vibes, and a hypothetical Human Kez in an AU seems like the type of person Ryan would’ve encountered… Hitching a ride, taking his van and thanking him, but not being THAT grateful, lol.

Nevertheless, that’s one stop- Onto the next one! And as Kez reminds us so importantly, it’s not JUST about the destination, but the journey… I’m glad to see Min be self-aware of the need to apply lessons here the way Lake was, and I bet this whole ‘journey and destination’ mentality might apply to Ryan’s whole thing of travelling around and doing performances! We’ll see… Next stop, passengers!

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #infinity train book 4 spoilers #infinity train book 4 #infinity train duet #infinity train ryan #ryan akagi #infinity train min #min-gi park #infinity train kez #infinity train samantha #infinity train the cat #analysis #speculation

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anhed-nia · 4 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

#blogtober #2020 #the golden glove #fatih akın #heinz stronk #jonas dassler #margarete tiesel #difficult cinema #horror #slasher #serial killer #period piece #adaptation #historical #biopic #fritz honka #i may have been watching a lot of powell and pressburger movies recently #sorry...

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ghazvla · 4 years ago

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ADITI RAO HYDARI, 29, SHAHBANU GHAZALA. ❝ ⤚⟶ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by the SHAHBANU GHAZALA, from the DELHI SULTANATE. they are at their best AFFECTIONATE, and at their worst VITRIOLIC. whilst abroad, their ambition is to FORM NEW ALLEGIANCES IN THE NAME OF PERSIA TO ESTABLISH HER PLACE IN THE PERSIAN COURT AS A WOMAN OF TRUE INFLUENCE AND POWER & GATHER SUPPORTERS TO POSSIBLY RETAKE HER RIGHTFUL PLACE AS SULTANA OF THE DELHI SULTANATE. SHE seems to remind everyone of ADITI RAO HYDARI & THE WARMTH OF DIRECT SUNLIGHT AGAINST YOUR SKIN, THE RUSTLING OF A SNAKE IN THE SAND AT NIGHT, A GOLDEN TEAR DRIPPING DOWN YOUR CHEEK. ❞

♕ { c l i c k h e r e f o r m o r e } ♕

❝ ⤚⟶ INTRODUCTION

What current conflicts does your character face?

It’s only been a couple years since Ghazala found herself betrayed out of Delhi Sultanate and into Persian territory. She’s still a relatively new addition to court, and her status as an outsider is still evident from the distrust most people feel towards her; especially since her engagement and consequent marriage to the Shah proved to be a swift one, and her natural charm has secured herself as his (new) favourite.

Accepting his marriage proposal was not something she had to think about twice — not only would it be considered rude to deny such an honor, it would also be foolish, from a political point of view. No matter how much royal blood flows in her veins, she was still exiled, stripped of any actual power; and power, oh, that’s something Ghazala quite enjoys.

So, while that honor restored her to a similar paragon of power, prestige and respect, it also proved to be a double-edged sword: Consort Firouzeh and all her allies have proved to be formidable foes, harder to persuade than the Shah ever was.

To put it plainly, Ghazala feels lost and out of place; not something you’d figure given the way she portrays herself, but behind closed doors, it’s getting harder and harder to deal with. She’s not used to doting on other people, instead being doted on, so she’s still trying to find her place at court.

She is also struggling with the desire for revenge and the feeling of inaction; her enemies may think they’ve won the war, but, to her, she has merely lost a battle, and she will, one day, sooner or later, reclaim what is rightfully hers.

What are some potential plotlines you are interested in pursuing?

To play off her short-term goals, I am eager to explore Ghazala’s relationship with the rest of the Persian entourage. She’s used to being disliked (see: the many battles she’s had to fight throughout her entire life to secure her rule and ensure her survival in her own home country), but she is also, to put it plainly, tired. She’s in a vulnerable place now more than ever and while she’s very good at guarding that and not showing it, unless you’re someone she trusts deeply (at this moment, Abuzar), I would love for her to have more trusted advisors.

She’s not particularly interested in the animosity coming from Firozeh and her supporters, even if she understands why it exists. I think they’ve all seen a face of her that is conciliatory, as she tries to play her game and come off as more humble than she feels, hoping that will warm their hearts, but that can easily change in both/whatever directions!

I am also extremely interested in exploring a bit of subterfuge as she tries to gather allies to her own cause. She’s playing her own long game trying to find the best way to regain her rightful place at the Delhi throne and avenge all who have wronged her.

I don’t think she has any true loyalties towards the Persian Empire as of yet; I say ‘true’ because the ones she does have right now are all based on political strategy, even if she does care for the Shah, and, as a consequence, for Persia. She would never do anything to undermine his rule or Persia, so no ‘double-agent’ kind of plots, but I am eager to explore her relationship to her newfound home and more eager to get her in over her head trying to burker some deals with other nations to try and prove herself, once and for all, as more than a ‘pretty face’, a ‘foreigner’ or ‘the shah’s second wife’.

❝ ⤚⟶ BULLET-POINTS.

Ghazala was born during the golden age of the Delhi Sultanate. The third-born and first and only legitimate daughter of the Sultan, History dictated that she would go down in obscurity, nothing but a footnote (married off to further her father’s interests elsewhere, eclipsed into nothingness); but Fate had other plans. Her father was known for his kindness and progressive ideals, and so, despite being born a woman, she enjoyed the same privileges as her brothers: an education in leading armies and ruling a kingdom. There was no real intention in Ghazala ever being heir, but Father believed in equality above all else and, as it stands, she became the best choice. After the death of her oldest brother, the one truly groomed to succeed as Sultan, there were only spineless, lazy princes to choose from… or Ghazala.

Quick-witted, keen of mind and ideals, hardworking and knowledgeable of the inner workings of court politics, it was with great displeasure by the nobility that the Sultan named her as his heir. A woman Sultan was something hard to get past of, no matter how skilled she proved herself to be; when her father died, her ascension to the throne split the sultanate into a civil war that would last for three years, before she finally managed to squash it; that still didn’t prove final when, all her brothers gone, the nobility found a new way to depose her and establish a new dynasty. With no real support to lay claim and continue to fight, she managed to escape the treacherous homeland that saw her be born and grow. Heartbroken and with a fiery desire for revenge, she found refuge in the neighbouring Persian Empire, where life continues to be an uphill battle.

Ghazala was a brash and bold child growing up, always grasping at the littlest bit of freedom she could find; defying the purdah tradition and her nurses patience, there was a glint of defiance in her eyes that persists to this day. It’s a kind of fire that, no matter what happens, doesn’t seem to be put down — in fact, given the history she’s had to endure in recent years, it has grown only wilder; but, with age comes maturity and she’s no longer the obstinate child she once was.

In her home country, she quickly gathered a reputation for her “difficult temperament”, something that displeased the ladies at court, who considered her attitude to be less than lady-like. She was painfully aware of her standing as daughter of the Sultan, and used to be presumptuous (and naive) about that position, thinking herself untouchable. That has changed with age; she now understands the power that lies in being a woman, despite all the many cons. She adapted, preferring instead to act from the shadows than to be seen as a particularly loud presence (especially in her newfound home in the persian empire).

At her best, she is a truly affectionate person: with a special liking towards children, she’s always dreamed of being a mother, but the dream hasn’t proven possible (thus far). She has, however, that special quality — tactful, gentle and meek around those she deems ‘weaker’ (not in a derogatory way; perhaps, in a naive way, as a weakness). There’s a special kind of freedom in being shahbanu that she hadn’t experienced before, and she’s learning to take advantage of it by dedicating her attention to things she didn’t in the past, like the cultures and the arts (something that may be a point of further strain between her and Consort Firouzeh). However, it’s impossible to deny her keen interest in all matters of the state, and her growing influence with her husband can’t be underestimated.

Personality: [+] articulate, captivating, caring, charismatic, clever, courageous, generous, loyal, persuasive, playful, protective, shrewd, sociable, ambitious; [-] competitive, dominating, stubborn, argumentative, careless, disobedient, domineering, impatient, impulsive, naive, presumptuous, vengeful, resentful, secretive.

#{ silence becomes a woman. }#crhs.intro #app under read more while i work on the about page !!!#this is a mess.jpeg

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dear-wormwoods · 5 years ago

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may I ask for a style fanfic rec list? 🥺🥺🥺

I have a couple of requests for this and I’ve been thinking about how to respond, because to be honest, I very rarely read fic these days. And by ‘these days’ I mean like, since 2014. I always have things I intend to read, but then time goes by and I don’t get around to it. So nothing I’m going to rec is new and you’ve probably already read them fkjds.

Anyway, sorry to be predictable by just being like “read Hollycomb’s fics” but...

The Scenic Route - 116k words, should be rated E for the final two chapters (I literally have no idea why it’s rated T on AO3, it was definitely M when I first read it on ff.net years ago)

Summary: The boys embark on a six day road trip to California before separating for college. Cartman is a pain in the ass, Kenny has no future, Butters is in crisis, and Kyle doesn't know how he'll say goodbye to Stan.

Why you should read it: The yearning. This fic is written entirely in Kyle’s POV, and Holly does such a brilliant job of getting into his head and really capturing that feeling of already mourning a friendship/relationship before it’s even over and kind of intentionally setting the bridge on fire to make what is (seemingly) inevitable hurry along, as if that will make it hurt less (it doesn’t). The first six chapters, the actual road trip portion of the fic (where the T rating actually does apply), are where it is at its strongest, and Kyle’s gradual descent into panicky, angry desperation is painfully real. I can’t stress enough how in character everyone is, each retaining recognizable mannerisms and dynamics from canon while still clearly being grown people entering adulthood. There’s a reason this fic is THE Style fic.

Leave the Pieces - 251k words, rated E (though that rating only represents a small portion of such a long fic)

Summary: Stan and Kyle meet as strangers in their mid-twenties, shocked to encounter someone else who can't remember the first ten years of his life. They form an instant connection, but only one person in South Park remembers them, and Kenny can't explain why they disappeared or why the rest of the town forgot them.

Why you should read it: It’s a lengthy epic with supernatural elements, a complicated plot that fits right into the show’s universe, and the kind of love that quite literally transcends time, space, and memory. I can’t explain it much further without giving away the plot, but this behemoth is gut wrenching and powerful. It is equal parts a story about Stan and Kyle finding each other as adults and falling in love despite not remembering who they are, or each other, and a deep exploration into Kenny’s character and his curse. Kenny is really the MVP of the story, despite it initially seeming like “just” a Style fic, and his relationship with Wendy is written beautifully and convincingly. One caveat, though: some parts of this fic... I’m not a fan of. I greatly dislike Cartman/Butters just as a concept, and there were times, particularly in the first half of the fic, where I almost quit reading because of their scenes. I also feel like this fic fell victim to fandom’s earlier tendency to mischaracterize Craig as borderline sociopathic (but in contrast, he’s absolutely perfect in Holly’s oneshot Other People’s Tupperware). However, I’m such a sucker for supernatural memory loss not being able to sever soul connections, and Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy’s respective journeys more than make up for my reluctance to stomach Cartman/Butters or other comparatively minor issues. And honestly, everything does fall into place as the plot unfolds, so all I can say is... if you hit certain scenes and think ‘wtf IS this??’, just stick it out, the payoff is worth it, especially if you’re looking for high quality Kenny content.

Amalgamation - 78k words, rated T (but should be rated M imo, because there are sex scenes, though they aren’t very explicit, just intimate)

Summary: In 1862, Kyle's family is forced to move from New York to a tiny mining settlement at the foot of Pike's Peak in Colorado. Kyle is sixteen years old and miserable until he meets Stan, a fellow transplant who has been in town for three years. Their feelings for each other are shadowed by the town's haunted history, and for Kyle the local legends begin to feel more like real nightmares.

Why you should read it: I know ‘1860′s gold mining settlement AU’ doesn’t sound very fascinating, but it is. This is another one that’s written in Kyle’s POV and again Holly does a wonderful job of expressing his emotional turmoil, the guilt and shame he feels, his self-righteousness, and the depth of his love for Stan. Everyone is as they would be if the clock was turned back 150 years, made different by the time period and the demands of their circumstances but still obviously recognizable. The old-timey atmosphere and world-building are so seamless and never feels unrelatable. There are also supernatural/ghost/mystery themes in this one and the fear is palpable.

From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell - 170k words, rated E, includes major character death (aside from Kenny)

Summary: Ten years after the execution of Terrance and Phillip, the war with Canada has not ended. Stan and most of Kyle's friends are planning to join the army after high school graduation, bound to be drafted anyway. Kyle doesn't believe in the war, but he's not willing to let Stan go without him.

Why you should read it: This is.... a perfect fic, and I don’t say that lightly. It is quite possibly the ONLY perfect fic I have ever read, in any fandom. I can’t actually describe all the ways in which it’s perfect without giving the plot details away, but, God, if you commit to reading just one of the long-ass fics I’m reccing on this list, make it this one. Please. It honestly makes me mad that this one never got the same attention as like, The Scenic Route, or ‘Night School’ did, because it so deserves to be up there. Only Holly could take the concept of the fucking movie and turn it into a completely devastating, bittersweet, epic romance. There is no caveat here, no ‘I loved it except for this and this’, just thorough, soul-crushing perfection. Just... Kyle. God, Kyle. I can’t elaborate, my heart isn’t up to the task. This fic will haunt me for the rest of my life.

The Ascent of Stan - 32k words, rated E, though it is like 95% domestic fluff

Summary: Stan sells his small pest control company and Kyle thinks they should use some of the money to go to Hawaii, where he proceeds to grill Stan about the mid-life crisis that Stan claims he's not having while their kids frolic nearby.

Why you should read it: This one is everything a domestic fic should be. It basically just chronicles the events of a week-long vacation to Hawaii that nearly-40 Stan and Kyle take with their two kids. This one is written fully in Stan’s POV and it works so well... he’s exactly the kind of dad that I imagine he would be, doing his best to provide for and protect his family’s little bubble and resolving to be better than his father while quietly fighting the lingering shadow of his alcoholism and cynicism. There’s no real conflict in this one, just 30,000 words of a very typical family vacation: not exactly blissful, irritating at times, but ultimately the foundation for perfect memories.

Never Change - 115k words, rated E

Summary: Thirteen years after his high school girlfriend's pregnancy upended his life, Stan is still in South Park, working with his partner Bebe as a local cop. They're in the process of investigating a series of possibly connected murders when FBI agent Kyle Broflovski returns to town and informs his old friend Stan that this is his investigation now.

Why you should read it: This is equal parts a murder mystery and a romance. It features exactly the kind of Stan/Kyle situation I hate to think about - a decade-long estrangement of their own making that comes to an abrupt end due to extenuating circumstances. It hurts because of how likely it is to happen that way, and it works especially well in this fic because of Stan’s reluctance to embrace his own bisexuality until he’s nearly 30 and Kyle’s tendency to put up walls to protect himself. Also, Bebe features prominently in this fic, which is always a huge bonus.

Bonus Oneshot Rec:

The Reformation of Fart Boy - 7k words, unrated but probably T, just barely

Summary: Five times South Park has brought Kyle to the brink of sanity and Stan has brought him back.

Why you should read it: I love thinking about the ways in which canon-typical nonsense continues to impact the characters in the long term on a serious psychological level. Kyle has suffered a lot in canon and it’s obvious even in the show that it is gradually changing him and wearing him down, so I really love this fic for focusing on his responses to some of the more traumatic moments, as seen through Stan’s eyes.

I feel sort of guilty only reccing one author for right now, because there are other fics out there that I liked and am planning on revisiting, but this post is long enough as it is. Chances are you’ve already read some or all of these, but they’re my favorites. I reread all of them while making this list, and they still hit me hard after all these years.

#asks #south park #sp style #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #fic recs

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cavendish-dakota-central · 5 years ago

Text

Inspired by:

This was really fun to write and absolutely got away from me so thanks for the idea!!

In an interesting turn of events, Phineas and Ferb had quite accidentally turned their favorite pet platypus into a human. What they had been trying to do was something entirely different- but Perry suspected that Heinz's stray -inator blasts mixed with an odd concoction of rare chemicals had somehow shifted his body into a human form. He had heard that all life forms were over 99% identical, but this was unexpected to say the least. Internally, he felt the same as ever, but externally a human body was something he had to get used to.

Luckily, strange things happened in Danville all the time. Linda and Lawrance accepted him with open arms and explained that he would always have a home with them, whether the remarkable change wore off or not.

In the meantime, Phineas and Ferb were having a field day. They took Perry to all the places platypus's weren't typically allowed into. They took him on amusement park rides and showed him around to all the best human cuisine. They even taught him sign language, which Ferb was already fluent in and that Phineas knew to a respectable degree.

Even Owca took it pretty well and was willing to play the whole situation by ear.

And then there was Heinz.

What the scientist initially saw was grown man breaking down his door wearing a hat noticably similar to his favorite nemesis's. The scientist had clutched a raygun between his confused, boney hands and demanded answers.

Thankfully, he understood when Perry handed him one of his business cards with an explanation written on the back.

"Perry the... human?" Heinz finally spoke. And then one of his hands slammed against his forehead and the scientist nearly fell over laughing.

Perry crossed his arms but couldn't scowl for long. He was a rather short five foot something of a man with a wide but strong stature, nothing like the six-something tower of skin and bones that Heinz was. However, Perry could soon see the humor in it as well. He had spent all his time wondering if he would soon poof back into a platypus but this... this lifted that weight off his shoulders.

Plus, being able to see Heinz something closer to face to face was a welcomed change of pace.

"Well, since you're here anyways: would you like to help Vanessa and I with the tree? We've been decorating for Christmas- no evil scheme today, but what do ya say?"

Perry's crossed arms fell away. He glanced at his watch. He had already scheduled this time with Heinz anyways so it didn't REALLY matter what they did with it. Plus, Perry could always write it off as preventing Heinz from disrupting the city for a day and Owca would surely appreciate it.

Perry nodded.

"Oooo wonderful!" Heinz cheered, his voice getting high and crackly with excitement, "Vanessa! Perry the Platypus- sorry, Perry the HUMAN," he shot a finger gun in Perry's direction, "is here!"

"Perry's a human?" Vanessa asked back, her low casual hum of a voice reaching ever so slightly upwards in interest.

She rounded the corner and reached out to hug Perry at the sight.

"Oh WOW you look great!" She complimented him wholeheartedly. She raised an eyebrow and looked him over, "Did my dad do this to you?"

"I..." Heinz's eyes drifted off to somewhere distant, a hand reaching under his chin, "I don't THINK I did..."

Perry shook his head 'no'.

"Well regardless," Heinz ushered them all into the next room, "we're almost done!"

In the large main room stood a simple green tree. Lights were already strung around it and most of the bulbs were in place. The rest remained in a nearby box.

"I wanted to make a huge masterpiece of a creation that spun around and lit up in dozens of different colors- !" Heinz excitedly explained his vision.

Vanessa quickly interjected, "but I thought simple was best."

"And you were right," Heinz smiled softly.

The evil scientist rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but a content smile spread over his face at having his two favorite people there with him. Heinz had always had a soft spot for his daughter and him- but now that Perry was human, he was unexpectedly understanding it on a deeper level. It was a nice moment, Perry realized as he looked over the scientist's face.

Of all people, his nemesis was the only one who had treated him as an equal before now. And since Perry was human, something in him wanted to communicate his appreciation.

He blushed and looked away.

A moment later, Vanessa was tapping him on the shoulder.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

Perry's teal eyes looked over her kind face and then landed on the outstretched gold star in her hand. His eyesbrows lifted, surprised at the offer.

"It's alright, promise."

Heinz's overzealous laugh rung out, "Plus you might actually be able reach it now."

Perry blushed, thinking of just last year when Heinz had picked him up and allowed him to put the star atop the tree. Heinz had laughed so warmly at Perry's thumbs up and in the evening, the platypus had fallen asleep on the scientist's chest halfway through a rerun their favorite soap opera.

He nodded his thanks to Vanessa and took it. He stepped onto a nearby stool at the foot of the tree and carefully secured the star at the top.

He quickly rejoined the others and for a moment, they looked over it in bliss. And then Heinz went back to his usual eccentric ways.

"OH! I made hot coco! Okay, wait right there!"

He energetically held his arms out to ensure the remaining pair stayed where they were and then ducked into the kitchen. He happily hummed something to himself as he poured the hot water into three mugs and swore as he spashed a little.

Perry watched him do so for a moment until Vanessa's lips gently curled into an amused smile.

"So now that you're human, are you gonna kiss him?"

Perry's blood was suddenly brought to a boil. Why was it suddenly so warm in there? It was actually quite cold in the penthouse, and just his blue-green, long-sleeve button up and orange diamond vest were barely keeping it warm as it was.

However, he did file the idea away for later.

He reached out his left hand and tilted it to either side, clearly signalling 'maybe'. He then added a few more signs to add on 'if I don't punch him first'.

Vanessa chuckled.

The three of them drank the coco and later made some popcorn as they settled down for a movie. They were just nearly halfway through when Perry realized the time.

He quickly lept up from the couch and headed for the door. Heinz quickly chased after him, nearly knocking over the bowl of popcorn in his wake.

He beat Perry to the door and opened it for him.

"It was nice of you to stop by," Heinz said awkwardly. "I... I hope I see you again soon. I'll try to think up something evil to do soon but I won't be doing evil on Christmas this year. I promised Vanessa I wouldn't do any scheming that day but maybe you can stop by anyways-"

Perry could barely hear what his nemesis was saying. He was too busy listening to his heart suddenly pounding in his ears and thinking something... unprofessional.

He knew all of this was weird and... unprecidented... but there was a strong possibility that he would stay like this for the rest of his life and... well, he didn't dislike that idea.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, he quickly reached out for either side of Heinz's face and kissed him. It was barely a touch, barely a second, but it happened and was over just as fast.

Heinz stared and stared at him.

"Alright. So. Is that a maybe?" He asked through a haze of warmth nearly overwhelming him.

Perry's ears were burning but he simply tipped his hat and gave a warm smile before dashing off.

Somewhere behind him, Heinz was slowly shutting the door, eyes distant with shock, while Vanessa was eating the popcorn and whipering "finally" with an amused smile.

#perryshmirtz #perryshmirtz fic #perry the human #heinz doofenshmirtz #perry the platypus #pnf #(i might out this up on my ao3 i havent decided yet)#pnf fic #pnf fanfic #phineas and ferb

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paperbagpetrichor · 5 years ago

Note

"38.) Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt." With Kakyoin? He strikes me as someone who'd be cold pretty easily

[ I’m so sorry for the wait on this one! I really loved this headcanon so I took it and ran a bit long, but I hope you enjoy. Thank you so incredibly much for your patience!! 💞 ]

On even remotely chilly days, such as when summer began to fade into autumn and temperatures dropped solely a few degrees, Kakyoin seemed to suit up in winter gear. Even throughout summer he’d worn long sleeves and pants (though you chalked that up to surviving the Egyptian desert heat - nothing could faze him on the hot front). The instant a brief wind began to blow breezily by, he would tug on his sleeves, pulling his hands as far into them as he possibly could, and cover the tips of his ears and nose. It didn’t take long for you to notice his strange behavior. No matter how hard he would try to hide it, your eyes saw right past his facade. You knew him too well for anything to slip past anymore.

Soon enough you took him shopping, just a few days into fall, and even though he insisted you should browse for yourself, you stood your ground, not directly confronting him for fear of making him anxious but instead suggesting you’d help him pick out winter gear in return for him doing the same with you. The two of you had a blast perusing the aisles. Rack after rack of well-insulated, heat-retaining shirts were combed through by you and your boyfriend, him slow and choosing, you quick and throwing anything you thought would look remotely beautiful on him into the cart (which was just about anything that you viewed as comfortable, as he had an ungodly habit of making everything, absolutely anything, gorgeous when draped upon him). With every piece of clothing he added to the pile, you seemed to have accumulated five more. He had barely finished with shirts when you were already zipping through the pants aisles. Rushing to catch up to you, he let out a laugh at the harried look on your face, reminding, “We’ve got all day, you don’t have to make yourself dizzy.” You shook your head as you threw some more wear into the buggy. If he was cold, you had to warm him up. It was that simple.

“Here,” you replied with a smile, handing off the buggy to him, “you should go try these on. I’ll run back the ones you dislike, and then we can move on to sweaters and jackets.” With a momentary pause, you ran a soft finger against his defined collarbones, still protruding thoroughly even under his thick sweater, mulling over images of him in different clothes before finally settling on an idea. “I think you’d look lovely with a scarf, too.”

His gaze lingered on you for just a few moments longer than usual before he offered you a smile. “You should have my old sweaters, then,” he began with an upward flick of his lips, smiling almost devilishly, “they’d be adorable on you.” You let out a laugh (internally screaming, of course - during summer you loved to wear his own clothes to bed or for lounging about at home, everything he wore was long upon you and soft and comfy, his sweet scent enveloping you every time you had the pleasure of meeting it, as though he were constantly hugging you in his own arms), one of equal happiness and surprise. Somehow his compliments still managed to make your heart race and your cheeks flush. Although, you had slowly begun to realize, there probably would never be a time where they didn’t.

As you began the daunting task of helping to decide which outfits looked best on him - everything looked great, of course, but you’d always wait for his input, too - and even after everything had been sifted through the two of you still had a fairly hefty load. You descended upon the sweater aisle. Something about Kakyoin in sweaters made your heart to warm you were practically impervious to the cold, and as he began searching for the most well-insulated jackets they had to offer, the stack of thick clothes only continued to grow. Your boyfriend was already trying on the next batch as you finished up the section, just a few hangers to go, when you just so happened to stumble upon what may have been, in your humble opinion, the most amazingly wonderful thing you could have ever hoped for. A big, pale green sweater, very long sleeves, soft as silk and as heat-retaining as the summer sun, a pouch pocket and a hood. And best of all: cherry bomb was scrawled across it in perfectly messy red cursive, surrounded by motifs of cherries. They were practically identical to his earrings. It was the last of its kind, sitting dejectedly behind a pile of other garments, and only in a size two or three levels larger than Kakyoin’s, but that didn’t matter. You knew he loved cuddling into his clothes, and this? Prime cuddle material. Not just for him (although that was, of course, the primary reason), but for you, too. There was nothing better than feeling his touch as you rested your body against soft, comforting material. You turned to race to the changing rooms only to almost bump into the exact man you were searching for.

“[Y/n], look!” he began excitedly, a bright grin lighting up his face as he handed you something soft, light-blue, and waited with a joyful complexion as you shook it out. It was a hooded sweater - just like the one you’d found for him. The same brand. Even a few sizes too large for you, too. Even better were the spattering of pale-red, almost pink cherries that ran across it, seemingly at random, and the words cherry baby written in the exact same manuscript across the chest. Your face immediately erupted into a mess of blushes and simpers as you quickly pushed it back into his hands.

This earned a confused glance from him. Did you not like it? It was fine if you didn’t, but he thought you’d be cute and comfortable in it, at the very least. He couldn’t quite pinpoint your frantic behavior, other than in comparison to earlier that day, when you two had first arrived and begun to browse (or in your case, run) for clothes.

With something like a squee, however, you broke his train of thought. He cocked his head to the side and glanced back over at you, only for his mouth to form a grin and an astonished laugh to resound from his chest. There you were, holding such a similar cherry shirt as he had found for you, only this time for him, so close in design that they practically matched, like two pieces in a puzzle, and he knew instantly that he had found everything he’d come looking for and more. Now equally a mass of redness and smiles, the two of you checked out and hurried home. The temperature had only continued to drop, and even though you hadn’t yet had the time to cut the tags off, Kakyoin sat beside you in the passenger’s seat, shivering, only to pull his new favorite sweater over him. He could practically place where your touch had gone. It filled him with enough comfort to survive the ride home, thankfully, and as the two of you rushed inside - it seemed so much colder now, you couldn’t deny the chill, and even with his sweater, he still felt the freezing as forward as he always had. The instant you both were inside - him first, of course - you enveloped him in a grand hug. Hot breath warmed his chest as you pulled him close. Nevertheless, he was still shivering uncontrollably, and as he moved to return the gesture you felt what seemed to be two blocks of ice wrapping around your back.

“You’re always so warm, [y/n],” he sighed, resting his head on top of yours.

You took the opportunity to break apart from him, grabbing his arm and guiding him to the sofa, where you had begun to keep emergency blankets piled as high as the roof, and after he took a seat and grabbed desperately at the pool of fabric and you ticked the thermostat up, you returned, grabbing a few extra blankets for good measure and lightly draping them over your boyfriend, settling down against him, almost atop him as you slung your legs across the couch over his and leaned into him. A contented smile had shakily settled upon his face. Before you knew what was happening, something had been wrapped around your shoulders, and after doing a double take you found Kakyoin with an unshakable grin on his face, pulling you into his side. Your hands quickly found their way around the sudden source of pressure, only to find soft hems, and you barely had time to register as he pulled the blanket around you, making sure every inch of you was covered in the nippy air. “What? You should stay warm,” he chuckled.

Without a second thought you replied, “I’m trying to stop you from being cold,” voice stern but loving as you flashed him a smile and shifted the bulk of the blanket closer, even if only just to see that lovely simper of his.

He averted his gaze for a moment. So that’s what all this had been about. Red-hot shame flooded his cheeks for a moment, and with an exhale he relented, “I’m always cold.” His sudden change in attitude had completely ruined the mood, he was sure of it. How come the chills always reached him? It was still relatively warm - his sensitivity to it all was ridiculous. Why did his body have to make such a big deal about what his mind knew shouldn't affect him? Somehow he could chase down an immortal vampire, fight, and win, but not handle the difference of a few degrees. Maybe his initial worries had been right. He’d given the fight all he had, but not all of it had returned. Not all of him had returned. Maybe he was just as weak as he had felt, bleeding out against the water tower, watching his grip on reality ebb away into blackness - “Kakyoin. Kakyoin. Hey. Kakyoin!” Your voice snapped him back to the present, and he found himself in a position he didn’t remember either of you getting in. You sat between his legs, hands steady on his cheeks, worried eyes darting nervously across his face as you took his hands. “We’re home,” you breathed, “you’re safe. I’m here.” You could feel the stiffness fade from him, slowly but surely, and you gave him a kiss just to fully cement it. His trembling hands found yours. Whether from the flashback, or the cold, or both, you took them in yours, gently trailing your way beneath your shirt. He was absolutely frozen. He needed love. He needed hugs. He needed -

“You…,” he began slowly, feeling his hands sandwiched between the heat of your body and your hands, softly beginning to rub circles around your back, slow but steady, savoring every moment, no longer back then but here, now. “I - I’m sorry for how cold my hands are.”

With a smile, you leaned into his chest, the side of your face against his new sweater, aware of his touch not because of its cold, no, not anymore, but because of its tenderness, how much love you felt and how high your heart jumped with every movement. “We can fix that.”

He felt your body shake with laughter and pulled you closer into him, a few chuckles escaping him as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you, cherry baby.”

“You too, cherry bomb.”

The two of you lay there, intertwined, uninterrupted, his hands moving every now and then to new spots beneath your shirt, capturing your warmth as you rid him of the cold, a single massive mess of blankets and bodies and love. When he drifted off to sleep not much later, he wasn’t cold. Not anymore. Thank you, [y/n].

#jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #kakyoin #noriaki #Kakyoin Noriaki #kakyoin x reader #oneshot #jjba oneshot #jjba headcanon #jjba headcanons #jjba scenario #jjba scenarios #kakyoin lives on in my heart #jojo part 3 #jojo's bizarre adventure stardust crusaders #jjba stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders

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