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literaila · 9 months ago

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stress baking

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you bake a cake and satoru tries to distract you

warnings: mom guilt (angst), fluff, satoru, etc.

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year five.

“ooo,” satoru reaches a hand across the counter, fingers about to contaminate everything in the kitchen. “frosting.”

you're slouching against the oven, trying to pretend like the cakes have been cooling long enough to frost when he comes in.

and you know immediately that you've been caught. satoru can read your mind with a mere glance most days, and so you try to avoid his eyes. because really--you don't need (or want) his input about this

you slap his hand away, turning away from the cakes. “don’t touch,” you tell him, glaring. “i don’t know where your hands have been.”

satoru grins at you, leaning against the counter so he can observe your corrupted workspace. “i can assure you that you do.”

you roll your eyes, flipping a cake pan over. it shouldn't take too much longer, really. just a couple... hours.

“what is this? did i forget about a birthday?” he looks up suddenly, startled. “was it yours?”

you scoff, moving every edible thing away from his reach, and still don't look up at him. but you can still feel every moment he makes, like a secret intuition.

as if knowing this, satoru smiles, leaning his elbows against the counter, face in hands, just watching you. “nah, i wouldn’t forget that.”

“hmm, when’s my birthday again?”

“it’s… uhhh a day. once a year," you make a face, scrunching your nose away from him, and he resolves. “the best day of the year?”

you ignore him--and your stupid instinct to look at his face, in his eyes, and observe every expression he makes--wishing that cakes were sturdier. it's late enough that you already know this is going to be a disaster. can you make cement appetizing?

“no, really,” satoru waves a hand in your face. “what is this?”

“it’s a cake.”

“for what?”

“tsumiki.”

he raises a brow, tapping on your forehead to get you to pay attention to him. “is it her birthday?”

“no, you deadbeat dad, her birthdays in may.”

“right.”

you roll your eyes again, cutting the top off of the cake. still, you try to keep your eyes concealed from him. your entire being--even though you're well aware that it's futile.

satoru can feel it when you cut yourself shaving in the shower, so it's likely that he already knows what you're doing.

and exactly why you're doing it.

but, you can play chicken with him for hours. you're very used to pretending like he doesn't know what you know that he knows. very very good.

“sooo..." satoru drawls, voice bright and smiley. like the demon he is. "what’s it for?”

you sigh, wanting to throw the excess cake at him. “can you use some critical thinking skills? just once, please?”

“why would i do that when you could just tell me?”

unforunately, the two of you both know that he's not going to leave without an answer. he's purposefully using your greatest weakness--his face, your heart, your irritating want to tell him every thought that crosses your mind--against you.

but who's fault is that if not your own?

“she’s worried about a test tomorrow,” you say, slowly, finally turning to look at him, trying not to wince. “so i’m making her a cake.”

satoru is already grinning, hand partially covering his mouth. you glare at his terrible attempts not to laugh at you.

at least his eyes are pretty. his cheeky eyebrows and stupid knowing look. without the view, you know, satoru would mean absolutely nothing to you (and everything, of course).

“will it give her superpowers?”

“shut up, gojo, what are you doing to help?”

“not worrying about it," he answers easily, "tsumiki’s a genius, she doesn’t need your anxiety too.”

“i’m not anxious.”

he smiles at you, tilting his head.

you crack, trying not to squeeze the offset spatula in your hand. “whatever. last time she got in a fight with akio you tried to buy her a kitten. i’m not taking your criticism," you look away from him, frowning. but before he can say anything, you add. "or your advice."

“the kitten wasn’t just for her,” he says, whining. “it was an addition.”

“an addition i was going to take care of.”

“tsumiki wouldn’t have to worry about a test if she had a soft, cute, cuddly little baby kitten to cuddle with.”

you refrain a smile. “that’s redundant.”

“you changed the trajectory of her life by telling me no. she'll probably go to prison now," satoru sighs, shaking his head at you.

“yup. it’s all my fault.”

he laughs, reaching a long arm over you to try and steal some frosting again, but you grab his wrist and push it away. he frowns, but asks, “are you going to let her eat this for breakfast?”

you pause, looking back at him (he's already smirking because you've had that conversation a dozen times) then you look back at the cake you’re currently mutilating. “um…”

satoru shakes his head. “so she doesn’t even get to have any until after the test? what's the point in that?"

"the point," you say, glaring at him. "is that it's nice. i want to do something for her."

"bake a cake?"

"shut up."

he laughs again. "you're such a nerd."

"you can leave now."

"what'd she say?" satoru asks, smiling up at you, brow perked. "'i have a test tomorrow?'"

you huff, waving him away. "fine, no cake for you."

"tsumiki probably didn't even tell you," he continues, cockily. "you probably read it in an email and immediately turned on the oven."

"you are not helping."

satoru snorts at you one more time, and then he stretches as he straightens up.

your eyes dart towards him--and the sliver of skin you can see peaking out from under his shirt, very attuned muscles--and then away. you're not being caught again.

but satoru is already smirking at you as he rounds the counter, hands traveling to your waist automatically, squeezing you to him--in a very uncomfortable position, by the way.

he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing obnoxiously.

"satoru, i'm busy," you say, trying to sneak out of his hold. unfortunately, he's way stronger than you are.

your hands have been blocked by his hold, and you set down the spatula, forced to bend to the will of this very irritating co-parent of yours.

"you're so cute," he says, cooing into your head.

"i'll pour oil in your hair."

he laughs, again. "then you'll have to take a shower with me."

you push him away, finally, scowling. he only moves back a couple of inches. "not happening."

"you realize that you're crazy, right?" satoru asks, still smiling, but a bit differently. it's less arrogant and more adoring. like he's completely star-struck, lost in the entirety of you. "this isn't news to you?"

"i'm not crazy. i'm being nice."

he continues to smile at you, ignoring your carefully pointed scowls and the harsh way to continue to frost the cake. "tsumiki will be fine. even if she fails her test, or gets sick, or..." he shakes his head, shrugging. "pulls the fire alarm so she doesn't have to take it."

"i hope you're not encouraging the children to fake an emergency."

"she's the smartest kid in that class, sweetheart, she'll do fine. and would it really matter if she didn't?"

you pause, biting your lip. no, it wouldn't matter, you should say. you should just tell him the increasingly worrisome thoughts that have been collecting in your head the past couple of weeks. you should've just helped her study more or made sure that she was feeling comfortable, or double-checked on her grades another time, or--

"well, she can have her cake as a reward," you say, instead, ignoring that last bit.

you both already know the answer anyway.

satoru is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulder, gentler this time, pulling your head to his chest with an impenetrable hold. "what's this really about?"

"nothing."

satoru's lips twitch, and it's silent for a moment, your disheartening 'nothing' ringing through the kitchen.

he's so stupid. and you hate that he knows what's wrong already, but that he's gonna make you say it. and you hate that it's sweet, in its own, very annoying way.

and then you break.

you sigh, a grumble coming from the back of your throat. "i just think i've been too worried about megumi lately. i mean school and missions and..."

satoru raises a brow at you. "okay?"

"and then there's you, too," you add, giving him a look. but it's dropped very quickly, as you look down to the floor. "do you think i've been paying enough attention to tsumiki?" you ask, softly.

tsumiki has always been good at taking care of herself, that much was obvious when you met her--when satoru told you what the two kids had been doing for months, all on their own.

but you don't want her to have to take care of herself. or feel like she should, just to make it easier on you both.

she's far too people-pleasing, far too sweet to tell either of you if you're missing something. she could have a broken arm and walk around like nothing was wrong until you finally asked.

you swallow, then continue. "you and megumi are important, but i don't want her to feel ignored just because i've been preoccupied."

"wow. i'm just a distraction to you?" satoru asks, pouting.

"you know what i mean," you whisper, shrugging.

really, you know these are just venomous thoughts. trying to hit you where it hurts.

but there's that part of you that isn't sure. if you're usually wrong, why shouldn't you be right this one time?

"you pick them both up every day, feed them, put them to bed, help with their homework..." satoru shrugs, never seeing the things that you do; stronger than you'll ever be. "how could she feel ignored?"

"well, i've been spending more time with megumi trying to figure out his shikigami. and you and i have been going over those books, and tsumiki can't be a part of any of that so she probably feels left out, and i haven't been doing anything with her anyway--"

"woah," satoru interrupts, a brow raised. "what's wrong with you?"

you glare, trying to push him away to no avail. "get out, satoru. i need to finish this."

"no, i'm serious." he holds a hand to your forehead. "are you sick? did you hit your head on something?" both of his hands grab onto your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"stop," you say, muffled from his pinching.

"you're so..." satoru shakes his head, every word going unsaid. "she doesn't feel ignored. she couldn't, because you're very clingy."

"not as clingy as you."

satoru laughs, pinching a bit harder in retaliation. "okay, so there's two of us. at this point, tsumiki is probably looking for other families to go live with."

"she wouldn't leave megumi."

his grin widens. his eyes are thoughtful, careful. "you spend time with her every day. you probably know more about her schedule than she does. megumi is..." satoru tilts his head. "difficult, and a priority. but tsumiki knows she is too."

"i just don't want her to feel lonely. or unimportant," you whisper to him, eyes darting down to his chest.

you know that it's a natural reaction, to want more for your kids. to want to protect them from your own feelings, however different the situations might be.

when satoru tells you that tsumiki reminds him of you there's that scared, cowardly little girl who recoils in response, flinching away from that idea. you never want her to feel like you do, to be like that little girl.

but unless you can erase history, you're not sure that it's possible.

satoru's eyes soften, looking at you. he breathes out, letting go of your face finally. then he leans down so his forehead rests against yours, shaking his head. "you're the most ridiculous person i know."

your eyes are forced upon his and you finally crack a smile. "have you met yourself?"

"megumi spends more time with us because he doesn't have any friends," satoru tells you, ignoring your glare at the statement. "tsumiki's just cooler than him."

"i'm gonna let him hide your blindfolds."

satoru rolls his eyes, but he shakes his head again. he's just staring at you, so you know that he's not going to entertain your pity party any longer.

at least he knows that there's no point in arguing when you're not going to listen to reason.

you nod, looking away from him, back to the counter of destruction. "okay, i'll just finish this for her. i already started, so i might as well--"

"finish it in the morning," satoru says, finger forcing your face back to his.

"not how that works, satoru."

"put everything away, and finish in the morning," he repeats, trying ridiculously hard to sound stern--but it's almost impossible with the smile that leeches onto his face. "she can have some after school."

"but i just want--"

satoru shakes his head, shaking your jaw with his hand. "you're tired. go to bed."

you cross your arms. "since when i have i ever done anything you said?"

"since i said so," satoru answers, as a finality.

and then he lets go of your face and wraps his arms around your waist, getting a secure hold so he can pick you up, hoisting you across his shoulder before he can say anything.

it's about as gently as satoru does anything, but still surprisingly comfortable.

you squirm against him, though, ignoring that thought, making sure not to squeal at the sudden feeling of being swept off your feet. the children are asleep. "put me down,” you hiss at him.

"nope. it's bedtime."

"satoru gojo, i swear--"

he just laughs, removing you both from the kitchen and continuing down the hall.

but instead of stopping at your door and depositing you in your bed--probably finding a key to lock you in with--he continues to his own room, opening and door and spinning around so he can shut it softly.

you don't have the time to question his motives or meanings before you're already trapped in the enclosed space with him, with none of the willpower to argue with him.

your room is cold anyway.

satoru walks you both over to the bed, laying you down in his usual spot, head against the pillow (he ignores the glare you have pointed up at him).

he shrugs off the sweater he's wearing, throwing it somewhere behind him like the teenage boy he is, and then lays down.

right on top of you, of course.

his body is sprawled across yours, your shoulder digging into his chest. but his arms are on either side of you as he holds himself up so that he can continue to look at you.

he has boxed you in completely. and just his eyes on yours keep you from any viable means of escape.

you breathe in his face and frown. "i hate you."

"shhh," satoru is grinning, his face bright enough to be seen in the dark. "we're sleeping. can't hear you."

"you're heavy, satoru," you complain, pushing at his chest with an ounce of strength. it doesn't work because you don't want it to.

satoru pretends to snore, but he's still several inches above you. his face is close enough that you can see little scars, and the flecks of white in his eyes. he's looking at every part of your face, every single inch of your being.

your eyes should focus on his, but you're used to this. so, after a moment, they trail across his face, to the bridge of his nose, and down to the swell of his lips.

there's light coming in from his window, the moon flattering satoru completely (not that he needs any help).

and, right now, as he keeps himself just above you, satoru's smile is gentler than ever.

it lacks the bravado, the carelessness he usually exudes. but it's full of something else, probably something more.

and you're the only person that gets this smile. the slightly drowsy, completely sure one.

so you keep your eyes on it for a moment too long, but it's really not your fault at all.

you could just kiss him and fall asleep.

he's looking at you like that's what he wants you to do, and you know that you're probably looking at him the same way. a simple kiss and the two of you would pass out, unbothered by the aches you'll wake up to, or the body weight that could suffocate you.

but you've never made things that easy.

when satoru leans down, his entire back tensing, muscles probably straining from staring at you for this long, you sigh.

satoru pauses, moving back a centimeter, checking your eyes for something--his are bathed in temptation, basking in desire, and you're sure that yours are just an echo of all of that.

but it's the perfect opportunity.

he leans in again, but you interrupt.

"i still need to put everything away," you whisper to him, cheek twitching.

satoru groans and his head falls against your shoulder.

you tangle your hands through his hair and giggle into his ear until you can feel the goosebumps across the skin of his biceps.

"so, tsumiki, how'd your test go?"

you glare at satoru, trying not to look at how tsumiki reacts. you've decided that you don't care.

tsumiki is always happy, satoru told you this morning, she might be on drugs.

and, well, you couldn't quite disagree with him (the first part, not the second. he got a smack for that).

she nods, forking her piece of cake again. "good," she answers, through the bite that's already in her mouth.

"was it a hard one?"

"nope!"

satoru gives you a look. a very familiar 'i told you so' look.

you roll your eyes, giving megumi a piece of cake which he takes begrudgingly.

"shut up," you tell him.

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we-are-maladaptive · 6 months ago

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summer afternoon!

....

The sun is high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the lake in front of your house. Sitting comfortably in your relaxing chair, you watch your four children splash and play in the cool, clear water. The warm summer breeze rustles the leaves of the trees, adding to the ambiance of the afternoon.

"Katsuma, don't go too far!" you call out to your 10-year-old son, who is testing the limits of his swim area. The boy is quite the brat but respectful of you. He moves toward the shallow area, however, not without an eye roll reaching to the back of his head.

Fumiko, your 9-year-old daughter, is quietly collecting smooth stones along the water's edge. "Look! I found a perfect skipping stone!" she says, her eyes shining with excitement.

"That's great, Fumiko," you reply, smiling at your daughter.

Meanwhile, the twin boys, Isamu and Akio, are up to their usual antics. "We caught a fish!" Isamu shouts, holding up a small, wriggling creature. Isamu then decides the best way to use the poor fish is to slap it directly onto poor Akio's face… leaving him all slimy.

"Let it go, Isamu!" you instruct, "…and STOP hitting your brother, or I will take you back inside with your father."

"Aw, Mom," Isamu whines. "I just wanted to show you."

Luckily, Akio is not too fazed, resorting to sticking out his tongue at his brother and washing his face with the lake water.

The boy reluctantly releases the fish back into the water, immediately grabbing his brother and diving back in to search for more adventures. Their laughter and shouts echo across the lake, a testament to their boundless energy and mischief.

Suddenly, Katsuma and Fumiko join forces, trying to construct a small raft out of driftwood and leaves. "Do you think this will float?" Katsuma asks, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"Only one way to find out," Fumiko replies with a grin.

The twins, not to be outdone, begin building a sandcastle on the shore, their competitive spirits driving them to create the tallest, most elaborate structure possible.

After a while, you call out, "How about some smoothies? Your father should almost be done with them."

"Yeah!" All four children rush out of the lake, water trailing behind them as they run toward the house. Trailing behind them, you chuckle softly, enjoying the simple yet joyful chaos of a summer day.

That joy dies down slightly as you view their muddy feet running straight onto your precious marble floors.

Sigh.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow at the stampede of drenched children running into his kitchen. He then furrows both of his brows at the dark foot marks staining his floors.

"WHAT did I tell you 'bout running in this house with dirty feet?" He glares at his eldest, "We have pavement for a damn reason, so why the hell are you still runnin' in the grass for, hm?"

"Oh! Well… uhm…"

"That's what I thought. Since this is the third time, you're helping your ma' clean it up."

"BUT DA-"

"Nope. Now eat y'r damn smoothie before I eat it for you."

As the children eagerly grab their favorite flavors, Fumiko turns to you and her father. "Thanks, Ma n' Pa. This is the best summer ever."

You smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the summer sun. "I'm glad you're all having fun. Now go back and enjoy the lake."

The children need no further encouragement and quickly return to their games. You walk slowly back outside, savoring the moment. Katsuki joins you this time, but instead joins his children in the water and has found contentment in throwing his daughter high into the sky before she falls back into the water with a splash. The rest immediately want to join as well. The sounds of their laughter and the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore fill your heart with peace.

This is what summer is all about: lazy days, playful children, and the simple pleasures of life.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugo x you

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rayshippouuchiha · 7 months ago

Note

For the Oyabun!Ichigo AU:

After Kisuke manages to unseal Ichigo, the first thing he does is tuck his body away in Kisuke’s lab for safe keeping, and return to Seireitei because two of his men have passed since he took over his little but ever growing band of yakuza - one from a car accident, one from a wasting illness that didn’t react to any treatment - and Ichigo will be damned if he doesn’t take care of his people in death as he does in life.

It takes a few days to track them both down in the outer districts of Rukongai, but enough of his senses had remained after the sealing that he knows what each and every one of his people feels like. And while they haven’t always done good things, they are good men, and every one of them has done their best to protect Karakura to their dying.

And he knows what he needs to do.

Ichigo, showing up to Seireitei: hey

Seireitei, unaware that Ichigo had been unsealed or unalived: AAHAHAhaahahhahaHHHAHAH

Ichigo: stop screaming it’s just me

Seireitei, immediately shutting up because they’re still programmed to listen to his orders: ….

Ichigo, holding up both of his ben by their collars like misbehaving kittens: these two are mine but you can borrow them

Ichigo, to his men: listen, they kind of suck but they said they’re trying. if you see anything hinky, come get me immediately

Ichigo’s Men: we’re….dead?

Ichigo: does that look like it’s stopped me?”

And over the years the Gotei Thirteen get used to Ichigo popping up with newly deceased souls and directing them to what he feels is the appropriate Divisions. Most of them go to Kenpachi in the 11th - “He’s strong as shit, but they’re all kind of idiots and they’re bored. See if you can do something about that. Stand your ground and you’ll be fine.” - a surprising amount are directed to Unohana and the 4th - “She’s a great teacher, but the key is respect. She’ll pull out your spine to prove a point and then put it back in to make a point. You’re just a soul now; you’ll survive it and it will suck.”

Several key people are given to the 7th. Komamura is in charge of diplomacy between Seireitei and Rukongai. Ichigo has seen what the outer districts are like and he has plans. It won’t hurt to have some of the men he trusts ready and waiting for the changes he’s going to make.

Every Captain, Lieutenant, and all of their underlings hold their collective breath the one and only time Ichigo drags - literally - one of his men to the 6th Division.

Ichigo: what’s up byakuya, rukia says we’re still on for dinner next week also i brought you this

Ichigo: *holds up his man like he’s a white boy showing off a fish he caught*

Ichigo: this is akio he is the best fucking accountant i have ever met in my life my accounts have never been cleaner he’s fucking bomb at taxes you should let him do your paperwork

Byakuya, knowing full well that Ichigo is just Like That: Rukia has mentioned the plum sake Urahara keeps on hand. Bring a bottle or two. You can leave that there. I’ll take care of it.

Ichigo, dropping his man: cool thanks see you next week

Yes god. Once you're one of Ichigo's people you're HIS and not even death changes that. Plus, being so close to Ichigo for so long, even before Kisuke fixes him up, is absolutely going to activate and build up spiritual power in his minions.

#Oyabun Ichigo AU #BnHA #MHA #RayRambles

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anzulvr · 3 months ago

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୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) reader || Chapter: 08 ୨୧

PREV || 08 Klepto || NEXT

Last year, the strangest sequence of events altered [Name’s] life. It was a day like any other, beginning with countless possibilities. An inevitable build-up to the perfect moment, fate, which could have led to anything, led to him.

"Akio! It's good to see you, I'm on an assignment. Could you do me a favor and answer some questions?" [Name] greeted him with a smile.

Akio scoffed in reply he looked the [h/c]-haired girl up and down. "Spare me the trouble and tell me who reported me. My dad invests a ton of money into this school... so this conversation won't get you anywhere."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't act clueless, it's annoying just cut to it." Akio yanked [Name’s] bag off her shoulder. "Unless you tell me who sent you, I won't be giving this back."

[Name] felt so out of the loop. Akio hadn't been apprehensive towards her before. "Gakushuu sent me. I only need to collect a student survey." He quickly backtracked in an attempt to cover up his self-incriminating tone "Of course he did... forget this, I don't need Asano getting mad at me for bothering his girlfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend and you don't have to be so hostile towards me, if you don't want to participate it's alright."

"Not your boyfriend?" Akio laughed as if it were the most ridiculous statement he'd heard come out of anyone's mouth. He blocked out anything else she'd said and honed in on that.

"The entire school knows the real reason you're in council."

She felt her heart sink. "Are you trying to insinuate something?"

[Name] shouldn't care, it's only a rumor. Still, it was hard not to when a good amount of the student body targeted her on how she didn't deserve her position. No one else in the Big Six had to take the backlash she did. It wasn't fair. Why did people assume the worst?

This was the first time someone had the guts to say it directly to her. She worked hard for her spot but her success was attributed to some guy going and "handing" it to her.

Just as she was about to wack Akio with the clipboard in her hand, Akio held his breath. A tall red-haired guy wearing a dress-code-violating uniform and a creepy smile was standing right behind him.

[Name] stared at the stranger's face a little longer, oh- that's the guy Asano constantly complains about!

He grabbed Akio's shoulder in an overly friendly manner. "Did you think you'd get away from me?" Karma's voice dripped with confidence, he was confrontational and clearly didn't run away from a fight. A weird guy, his tone was friendly; the same way you'd talk to an old friend. It was comforting in an uncomfortable way, his words didn't match his attitude at all.

The life drained from Akio's face, he went pale and rigid.

"I'm having trouble deciding what to do. I could beat your face in before I take the wallet back, or you can give me everything you have on you, clothes and all. You can keep the underwear."

"You can have it back! I swear I didn't take money out of it!"

"You're funny, I don't just want it back. Not after you made me run around the block ."

Akio dropped everything he had on the floor, Nagisas wallet, [Names] bag, his pants... Karma laughed at the sight of Akio running off like his life depended on it.

It was a cute laugh, a little maniacal considering the circumstances, but cute.

"This is like hitting the lottery... Nagisa had 10 bucks in that old thing- That blockhead carries hundreds!" He was excitedly talking to himself like a child opening an early Christmas gift.

"Karma! There you are! I finally caught up. Huh? Where'd Akio go? God, please don't tell me you actually killed him..."

Nagisa was holding his stomach for support, completely out of breath and a few minutes late. He must've gotten lost while Karma was chasing Akio.

"Even better, check this out!"

He tossed both wallets to Nagisa, Then Karma opened up [Names] bag and started rummaging through it.

[Name] spoke up softly, even though the belongings were hers she felt pretty out of place after watching the whole ordeal go down. She wasn't keen on being next.

"Hi um, that's my stuff."

Karma gave her a suspicious glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you trying to rip my steal?"

She shook her head no in rapid motion.

Nagisa gave a panicked expression, "Karma don't be rude! She's in our class, she always brings that bag."

Karma furrowed his eyebrows in response, "Really? I never noticed ya."

He tossed the bag back into [Names] arms, "Heads up." She dropped her clipboard when meaning to catch her bag.

"What's that stack of papers for?" Nagisa asked while picking the board back up.

"It's just a survey I'm having people fill in for the school."

Karma tapped his open palm with his balled-up fist, a lightbulb moment, "Now I remember you! You're the square's girlfriend!" A little late, but at least he had some sort of recollection of [Names] existence.

[Name] was visibly taken aback, he did not just say that.

"Seriously where did that rumor come from? Asano would put a bullet in his head before going out with me."

Nagisa gave an awkward chuckle, clearly, he was only being polite. "Sorry about Karma, we can answer the survey if you still need people."

"You'd do that for me? Thank you! I have like fifty more to collect."

"Anytime, it's no problem!"

It was a really sweet gesture until the mood got spoiled by the delinquent behind him who didn't share the same enthusiasm.

"Do I have to? There are plenty of other people to choose from."

While Nagisa started going through and checking boxes [Name] couldn't help but focus on Karma. In contrast to his perfect hair and face his uniform was completely wrong. He could get into trouble if a teacher notices then it'll become a bigger problem than it has to be.

[Name] took a step closer and began to fix his outfit the best she could. She straightened up his blazer and buttoned up his collared shirt.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself as she lectured him about cleaning up his look. He focused on her hands. "Your shirt's unbuttoned, the blazers on wrong and I have an extra tie in my locker so you can have mine if you want."

He smiled and gave her a weird look, "No thanks I'm not a big fan, ties are suffocating."

He'd gotten told off millions of times by the councilors and teachers over dress code but this was the first time a girl his age nagged him about it. What was her deal? "Sorry if I sound pushy, I'm only looking out for you."

Looking out for him, that's a first.

"Nah it's okay, your shoes are untied by the way."

She looked down to check completely forgetting they didn't have laces. "Hm? But they aren't."

He laughed again, this time not like a sadistic weirdo. "Made you look! Are you always that gullible?"

Back then, [Name] and Karma didn't know they'd eventually become the most important people to one another.

He's always there when she needs it, that's what sets him apart from anyone else. [Name] thinks this makes her over-reliant, and needy. She hopes he won't grow sick of her. In that way they're the perfect pair, behind his poker-faced facade Karma is worrying about the same thing, hopefully, she never gets sick of him.

#karma akabane #ansatsu kyoushitsu #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom #karma akabane headcannons #assclass #akabane x reader #akabane karma #AKABANEONPURPOSE

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dellalyra · 1 year ago

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i can't stop thinking about what toru's parents would be like!!! his mother would definitely be the energetic type and his father would be extremely calm, and their freak out about seeing toru getting married or adopting megumi and tsumiki and then coming to akio too!! it fills my heart with love

See I always had it in my head that Satoru’s parents were either dead/not around or his father simply married to create a new Gojo heir and it wasn’t a happy childhood at all. Raised by nanny’s and as a weapon/God rather than a little boy.

However - this got me thinking.

Satoru’s mother is the Gojo, all white hair (not only with age) and pretty blue eyes. A talented sorcerer in her own right, was married by the clan elders to a son of another noble family. She protested and fought against it - going so far as to barricade herself in her room at the estate, slipping out the bedroom window and sliding down the ivy on the walls only to trip at the last minute and be caught by a pair of strong arms.

The young man recognises her immediately.

“You hurt?” He asks, righting her on her feet with gentle hands.

She freezes and stares at him.

All jet black hair with a hint of soft curls and beautiful eyes, ivory skin and a slightly shy look in his eyes. His height towered over her, all lean and slim.

“I’m guessing you’re the one they want to knock me up, then?” She says, hands on her hips and glaring.

“I - um - if you’re Gojo Izumi, then yes, I suppose so.” He flusters.

“That’s me. You are Takahiro, no?” She says, dusting off the light blue skirt she wore.

He just nods, attempting a smile at the stubborn and brash woman before him.

Safe to say, a marriage that started as a contract between two families, ended in a marriage of love.

Izumi was all excitement and enthusiasm, high energy and over the top everything, a powder keg temper and a lust for a good exorcism. Takahiro was her antithesis. Calm, quiet, subdued and relaxed - endlessly gentle and warm without a bone in his body meant for anger or violence. Yet, somehow - they worked. Both 18 when married, Satoru arrived 2 years later. Izumi wasn’t overly maternal - of course she adored her little boy but her favourite way to bond was to train with him, or bring him along on missions. Her pride in birthing the first Limitless and Six Eyes user in hundreds of years contributed to that. Izumi, in Satoru’s eyes, was the fun parent. She did ice cream for dinner and ‘don’t tell your father’ secrets. Izumi, although an only child of the late head of the Gojo clan, was refused the title herself on the grounds of being a woman. So when her father passed (she was delighted, the cranky old bastard) when Satoru was just 3 months old, the title immediately passed to him.

Takahiro was soft, gentle and kind. He read bedtime stories and made cocoa with marshmallows and helped tie his shoelaces and kissed any rare boo-boo that he got. His father’s deep voice would echo in his bedroom, soft lullabies and words of love helping the young boy drift to sleep.

His parents loved each other dearly, too - they were the model from which he learned to love. Completely, and without hesitation.

That’s how Takahiro knew. The first weekend that Satoru came home from Jujutsu Tech, he seemed different. He had wrote to them about the Geto boy, his best friend and the RCT trainee Ieiri, and his third classmate - the future head of the L/N clan, a prominent, exceptionally skilled family shunned by the elders many years ago for their rebellious nature. The look in his face changed when Izumi had asked over dinner what each of his classmates were like, and he got to the girl.

“Taka, she’s a lovely young girl - fiery as the rest of her clan and exceptionally beautiful, her mother assisted me on a mission a few years ago.” Izumi informed her husband of the L/N clan eldest.

Takahiro saw the red on the tips of his son’s ears.

“What’s her name, son?” He asked, cutting a piece of the chef’s specialty chicken.

“Y/N.” Satoru replied, with a dreamy edge to his voice that he had only heard before when his own voice had first called for Izumi.

It was no shock when 2 years later, you came home with Satoru to the Gojo estate for a portion of the break. The Gojo clan was so different to your own, who were fiery, passionate people and were completely family oriented, Christmas was spent in pyjamas by the fireplace with spiced cider flowing and cousins fighting over which film to watch and parents cuddled up on the sofa with their brood between them, and Christmas dinner served with love after being prepared (between food fights) by grandparents and their own grown children. The Gojo Christmas had a professionally decorated tree, and a chef to make a Christmas meal, gifts exchanged neatly and primly.

At least - that was what you expected.

You didn’t expect to pull up in a private car to a beautiful mansion only to have a tall, elegant woman with shining white hair bound down the steps.

“Show me her! Let me see, yes - hello Satoru, move now.” The woman smiled, moving her son, now taller than her to the side to get a better look at you.

“Hello, Gojo-sama. Thank you so much for inviting me.” You say, slightly terrified of the imposing woman (it’s clear she’s where Satoru gets his presence).

“Nonsense, child - Izumi is fine. Look at you, you look so like your mother! What a pretty little thing you are!” She says, excitedly squishing your cheeks and almost vibrating with excitement.

“Izumi, dearest, let the child breathe.” A tall man, about Satoru’s height, slim and pale with wavy inky black hair and soft eyes and smile approaches.

You go to open your mouth to greet him formally.

“No, no - Takahiro is what you’ll call me, little one. You are my little boy’s love, no need for such formalities.” He says, voice deep and soft and smooth as chocolate with a smile that reminds you of warm winter nights.

Satoru begins to walk inside, before a voice stops him.

“Gojo Satoru! Get down here and take your lady’s bag! Gosh, what have we raised?! A feral bear?!” Izumi shrieks.

The evening was spent eating a meal, indeed cooked by the families chef, and sitting drinking mulled wine in a beautiful drawing room. Izumi informed you that your own mother was a year below her in school, although she went to Kyoto where your family were staunchly Tokyo attendees. Izumi and you quickly made close friends, laughing and chatting away and answering every question the fascinated woman could think of. Takahiro, insisted on serving you extra food, saying that you just need the energy to keep up with his son, who quickly refutes that he can’t keep up with you. White Christmas began to play - and Izumi smiled widely, turning to look at her husband who groaned.

“Must we, ‘Zumi?” He whines, so like his son.

“We must.” She nods and drags him by the hand to dance a slow waltz with her.

You look at them, as Izumi smiles widely, perpetual buzz of adrenaline surrounding her - wrapped in the arms of her husband - a soothing balm in comparison.

You whisper to Satoru.

“I love your parents.”

He smirks, shrugging.

“Meh, they’re alright.”

When Suguru left - and the elders were all informed what had happened - Satoru’s phone rang showing his father’s contact.

Both Izumi and Takahiro were on the phone - with all seriousness, Izumi asks if there’s anyone else except you and Satoru there. You say no.

“We know how much Suguru means to you, Satoru - now listen to me, if you can find him - if you can convince him to come back, everything can be dealt with. We can keep you all safe - the elders won’t refuse us anything.” Izumi’s voice is cold and serious - completely embodying the role of the Mother of The Six Eyes.

You both knew he wouldn’t come back. Yet, Satoru felt safer knowing his parents were behind him.

2 years later, a knock sounds out through the apartment while you make yourself and Satoru a coffee.

“I’ll get it!” Shouts Tsumiki.

“Thank you, sweetie! It’s probably just Aunty Koko wanting some lunch.” You reply, living in the staff accommodation definitely served your best friend well.

You heard the door click, and some muffled voices - a man’s deep rumbling, a woman’s and a child’s.

Drying your hands, you walk out of the kitchen to see who was there.

In the doorway, stood Izumi and Takahiro - looking very, very confused.

“Oh, hey parents.” Satoru says, poking his head around the corner from the living room.

“Hello Satoru, hello lovely Y/N. We were in the city and thought we’d pop in to say hello since it’s been several months. Is this little one a niece or nephew?” Izumi asks you.

You blink.

“Huh? Tsumiki? Nah, she’s ours.” Satoru shrugs, as you realise he didn’t tell his parents about the Fushiguro kids.

Takahiro drops his Starbucks.

“I - would you like to come in for tea? It seems we all have some catching up to do.” You smile, rolling your eyes.

After they settle themselves on the sofa, a coffee in each parents hand - Tsumiki sitting beside you and Megumi beside Satoru - Satoru explains the situation.

“They… live with you? You’re starting the process to adopt?!” Izumi shrieks, Takahiro looks like he’s been hit by a truck.

“We’re hoping to, yes.” You nod, smiling, holding your boyfriend’s hand.

There’s silence for a moment, and Tsumiki re enters the room with a tray of cookies.

Izumi looks between both of the children, shellshocked.

Takahiro places his coffee down, and smiles at both of the children.

“Hello, children - what are your names?” He says, calmly and soothing - exuding an aura of calm safety.

“My name is Tsumiki, and this is my younger brother Megumi. I’m 8, and he’s 6.” The little girl smiles.

You could visibly see both the elders melt.

“Well then, Tsumiki and Megumi - I am your Ojiisan, and this is your Obaasan.” Takahiro says, patting them both on the head with his large hands.

Somehow, by bedtime that night - Takahiro had coaxed Megumi into showing him all of his National Geographic magazines, the older man’s calm nature a nice contrast to his adoptive parents chaotic selves. Izumi had also learned every piece of drama and gossip happening in 2nd Grade from Tsumiki, and was truly blown away by the audacity of Kinju saying that Nami’s new pink boots weren’t that cool and subsequently uninviting her to her Monster High birthday party.

3 years later

Izumi’s phone buzzed with a lunch invitation from her son, a rare occurrence outside holidays and planned visits. So she agreed, vaguely concerned something was wrong.

A small French cafe was their destination, full of decadent pastries for both Gojo’s to devour.

“Mother, I’ve asked you here because I need something.” He says.

Now that piqued her interest, Satoru had never wanted or needed for anything.

“Oh? What could it be?” She asks, sipping her tea.

Satoru lifts his sunglasses, looking her in the eyes.

“The ring.”

She almost drops the teacup.

“Satoru?! Are you finally going to ask her to marry you?! Oh, this is so wonderful! Gosh, I’ll go right away - it’s in my jewellery box at home and if you warp us there we can get it immediately and return so you can ask her right away!” She spews, grabbing her coat and purse.

“Mother - I have it all planned, I just need it by Saturday.” He smiles, taking her bag and putting it back down.

“Have you told your father? Tell me the plans! How will you ask her? Should we get the ring resized? My jeweller will do it in time for Saturday. The ring was your great grandmother’s. It’s truly beautiful, very delicate and the sapphire ” Izumi prattles off countless questions, enough to dizzy even Satoru.

The kids relationship with their Gojo grandparents was different to their relationship to your own mother, Ojiisan and Obaasan were people they liked very much and enjoyed being around, and were very spoiled by. Your own mother, their Baba, was someone they saw every week. They had sleepovers with their Baba, or Baba came to stay. Baba would sit them both on her knees and read them stories or teach them to bake. Your mother, despite being younger than Satoru’s parents, immediately became infatuated with the role of doting Baba - every Friday night they would stay with their Baba. Satoru had been greatly loved by his parents, yet as two high ranking sorcerers and both from noble families - his primary caregivers had been nannies throughout the day. Your Mama, had raised you herself with the help of your own grandmother - your family were close knit, and no nanny or external caregivers had been part of your childhood, and so it became the same for the children. Satoru fit perfectly into your family. His chaos matching theirs, his warmth and unconditional love far more suited to a less formal and traditional family as he spent his first Christmas in pyjamas watching Elf alongside you and all of the rest of the L/N clan, he realised that was how he wanted to love, and to live.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #family formations extras #family formations

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sillybayo · 7 months ago

Text

Bayo's Black Rose Arc Analysis

Some notes before I begin:

-This ramble/essay contains heavy discussions of CSA, general sexual themes, and incest. Also, keep in mind that the characters discussed here are 12-17. While I will be looking into how sex affects them mentally and such, I will not tolerate child sexualization here. I will block anyone who makes a single weird comment or make me uncomfortable. We'll be talking about this from a pure psychological standpoint.

-This is a thought dump rather than anything formal, so I won't be dropping episode titles or numbers. I'm also going purely off of memory, and things I said in group chats. So if things lack clarity, this is why.

-I'm not saying I "cracked the black rose arc code" or anything, this is purely my interpretation that I wish to share, due to not seeing many black rose analysis', and being displeased with what some people have said and concluded. I just want to put what I think out there for others to enjoy :3.

-To avoid being repetitive and cluttered, I'll be generally referring to any character who pulls swords out as "wielders", and any character who has had a sword pulled out of them as "sheaths". Any scene where this transpires will be called a "sheathing scene."

-Once again, due to the material of this analysis, I will be blocking anyone who sexualizes the characters in notes, or anyone who I see as creepy.

With that out of the way, let us begin :3!

So I was watching rgu video essays one day, and I stumbled across one about Miki. About halfway or late into the video, they begin talking about how Miki and Kozue had sex in the black rose arc, due to the way she touched him before the sheathing scene, and the way he turned beet red when Nanami asked how it felt for the sword to be taken out. And I thought it made sense at the time, as I was still new to utena, and I only watched it once. And the allegory is clearly there in other black rose sheathing scenes (besides with utenanthy), right?

But then I thought about it more when I rewatched the juriori black rose episode a year or so later, and caught Juri blushing when Nanami asked her the same question. And...wait. Because doesn't all of the black rose sheathing scenes look..uncomfortable? The sheath cries in pain as the sword comes out of their chest, and Wakaba even forced it out of Saionji. And this weirded me out, because why would a show thats so clearly against rape of any kind go on to write something like this? Why did Miki and Juri blush about something that was so forceful? And even if they were under a mind controlled like state, why would they write the wielders to be rapists? With the way rgu writes sex and rape, it didn't seem right, y'know?

So a few months later, when I decided to continue my rewatch and reached the Wakaba black rose arc episode, thats when I truly started to think about it more. And thats when I reached a conclusion: Miki and Juri are more influenced by Touga and Saionji than they realize. And by extension, they're all influenced by Akio.

You see, Touga and Saionji clearly view Anthy as someone to be sexualized. Shes their wife, who would fulfill their every request. Even though they might not know Anthys and Akios relationship, and/or how the latter treats her, this is an undeniable shared mindset.

Even though the boys and Utena uses Anthy as a sheath in the exact same ways on the outside, you know that when its with Touga and Saionji, its sexualized. They own her. When Touga demands Anthy to kiss his sword, it feels so off that Utena couldn't bare to watch. You could argue that its because it would hurt Anthys lips, but in later episodes its clear that it isn't the issue, as Utena uses the same powerup but in a more supportive fashion rather than sexual. So whats up with that?

I say; in (most of) the wielders view, the sword is like a penis.

I know, a very silly thing to say. But I don't mean exactly. And I, of course, don't mean literally.

Do you know that scene from the scream movie, where the two guys are stabbing each other, begging for it and all? It definitely has sexual undertones, because of the mood set by the characters, and heres where I'm getting at; the idea of a long pointed object being thrusted in you.

What I think is that Anthy is so sexualized by the student council, that the idea of a simple sword being pulled out of her 14 year old south asian brown girl chest, is arousing.

So when each of the student council members become sheaths themselves, of course they think that its one of the most sexually intimate things to experience. And its so stupid, right? Its just a sword. a SWORD.

And I shouldn't be referring to the student council so generally, because Nanami is the only one who sees through this. As far as I remember, she wasn't weird in the slightest when she was Tsuwabukis sheath. And even in the apocalypse arc, shes uncomfortable when Touga kisses her, and disturbed when walking in on Akio and Anthy (but then again I haven't rewatched that episode yet, so I could be wrong). She purely meant to ask how the sword felt, with no sexual intent. Miki and Juri were just pure idiots on that part.

So then, wait, if the sword pulling in the black rose arc wasn't a metaphor for rape, then what is it?

Well, I argue that it black rose wielders follow the same mindset as some sexual assaulters when they're under the effects of Mikages reverse therapy, in a way. Its the strong feeling of thinking the sheath owes the wielder something, and that the wielder deserves it no matter what they say.

Another reference to a different piece of media, but remember when its revealed that Pearl continued to fuse with Garnet for her own personal wants, which crossed Garnets boundaries? People interpreted that scene as Pearl raping Garnet, when....no. What? Of course she isn't. Its just the general idea of your wishes being disrespected, and boundaries ignored. Do you see where I'm going with this?

The black rose wielders see something in the sheaths that they want for themselves, whether it be their love, their attention, or some secret third thing. So with nothing but entitlement and desperation in their heart, they force the sword out of their hearts, where their desires lie.

But, wait. How about other scenes with swords? Like when Anthy is Utenas sheath, and when Anthy has a thousand swords stabbed into her? Do swords still represent desire?

Well, yes! Very easily. Utena fights for the pure sake of love and friendship. She fights Saionji when hes cruel to Wakaba, and she swears to protect Anthy with all her heart. She duels with the strongest ounce of care in her soul. Thats the desire to keep her loved ones happy.

What about when Anthy what continuously impaled? Well, that was the villages desire to get to the prince. And it was Akios desire to finally revolutionize the world after so long.

I may be missing a few scenes, but this is the general idea, and I hope I got the idea across. Thats the end of my little ramble :3. As an acespec hypersexual, I already spend a lot of time deconstructing the truth behind sexual things and feelings. So this was fun to think about. I hope y'all liked this, and understood it most importantly. Toodleeess

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lcvekatsuki · 1 month ago

Text

. . chapter 02 . . .

“bumps along the way”

“Introduce yourself Rookie,” Commander Aizawa spoke with a rasped in his voice. I quickly nodded as I stood up , facing the rest of the people who would soon be my work mates .

My eyes traveled to glance at all of them, but one pair of eyes was hunting me down, glaring at me so hard I thought I’d commit a crime.

Oh wait I already did !

Taking a deep breath I laid my hands on my stomach , hugging myself softly . I imagine my hands were Akio’s, and he was cheering me on with a big hug.

“My name is L/n Y/n , I just graduated from Masayoshi Police Academy . And now im a rookie , training here to become a patrol officer or even more . ” I gave a small trembling smile before I quickly sat back down.

I could hear whispers talking about me . “If she graduated from Masayoshi she must be good.” A brown haired girl said as she caught my eyes looking at her , and waved but I quickly turned away .

“Alright settle down people , talk later serve now . You can introduce yourself to L/n , later but now we have to focus on saving lives . Stay safe and be careful out there .” Aizawa announced with a stern face , his toned arms crossed against his chest .

Everyone started to head out but I was still left with one more question , I gathered my purse and headed up to Commander .

“Commander Aizawa , who is going to be my training officer ?” I asked with a raised eyebrow .

His dark brown eyes looked down at me , his presence was definitely scary but not as scary as Sergeant Bakugou , thank god he can’t train me-

“Your training officer will be Sergeant Bakugou , it was orginally suppose to be Officer Iida but seeing your records and the academy you went too , I figured Bakugou will benefit you the most .” He said with a calming demeanor while I was close to have a seizure .

I wanted to ask him if I could switch to have Officer Iida instead , but he was already pushing me away to where Sergeant Bakugou was . The red hair and him were talking , and I knew I was going to get potentially screamed at for interrupting but here goes nothing .

“U-uhm, excuse me Sergeant .” I silently cursed myself for stuttering , his crimson eyes were already glaring at me he was about to yell but the red hair put his large palm on his shoulder . “Commander told m-me , you would be training me . ” I stated , accidentally making it sound more like a question then a statement.

Bakugou leaned his head back and my eyes fell on their uniforms . The red hair was extremely muscular , his muscular body was almost splurging out of the navy blue police uniform .

“Get the shit then boot , why the hell are you standing around for huh? You think because you went to Masayoshi your special , let me break it to you your not . Your worthless and you just proved it to me when you sat in my seat , did the academy not teach you rookies sit in front ? Or are you that pathetic and stupid .” He yelled in my face , I felt like crying again .

“Katsuki sto-” the red hair tried to interrupt him but Bakugou cut him off . “I’m going to make you drop out of UAPD , show how much of a lost cause you are .” He snapped at me , I bit my lip to try to stop myself from wanting to cry .

“Yes , sergeant Bakugou .” I nodded my head , it was silly of me to think this job would be easy and smooth .

Walking out of the room I took a deep breath , I made it to the equipment room . I gathered my bullet proof vest wrapping it around my torso , and then I slid my radio into my police uniform pocket . I was just about to turn my body cam on until a large hand and a scent of Carmel cologne covered it .

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I’m going to make this job absolute hell for you , boot .” Bakugou whispered into my ear , his face was close to mine . “Now get the firearms and head into the patrol car .”

He walked away leaving me there, my cheeks felt like they were heating up so vibrantly but I hit the inside of my cheek stopping it. Even though he was tormenting his body was . . . Respectfully muscular and toned .

I can’t believe I'm gushing over my boss's body right now .

I slid the firearm into the holster, still feeling the weight of Bakugou’s words pressing on me. My hands shook slightly, but I forced myself to steady them. You’ve made it this far, Y/N. Don’t let him scare you out of this.

I walked out into the parking lot, scanning for the patrol car. My heart sank when I saw Bakugou already inside, engine running, looking more irritated than ever. His crimson eyes zeroed in on me as I approached, and I could feel the intensity of his glare even through the windshield.

I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, quickly fastening my seatbelt. Bakugou didn't waste any time slamming his foot on the gas, jerking the car into motion before I could even get fully settled.

"Get your shit together, rookie," he growled. "You move too damn slow. This ain't some damn academy drill."

I bit my tongue, trying not to react. The city passed by in a blur as Bakugou weaved through traffic, clearly annoyed with everything — and especially with me.

“You’re gonna sit there and stare out the window all day, or are you gonna actually do your job and read the patrol log?” Bakugou snapped, slapping the tablet onto my lap with unnecessary force.

“Y-yes, Sergeant,” I stammered, fumbling with the device.

"Don't 'yes, Sergeant' me," he barked. "Act like you know what the hell you're doing. I don’t have time for you to play catch-up, rookie."

I quickly pulled up the patrol log, reading through the dispatches. The patrol route was mostly routine — nothing major so far. I tried to ignore the feeling of Bakugou’s eyes occasionally flicking over to me, like he was waiting for me to mess up.

“Spit it out, rookie. What’s the first stop?” Bakugou demanded.

“Uh, there's a potential disturbance call at Tsubasa Street," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "A neighbor reported loud shouting—"

"I know what the fuck a disturbance is, I don’t need the damn definition," he cut me off. "Next time, just tell me the address."

"Y-yes, Sergeant," I muttered, feeling my face heat up again from embarrassment .

The tension in the car felt suffocating as we made our way to the location. Bakugou kept muttering curses under his breath, occasionally glancing at me like he was annoyed I even existed.

When we arrived at Tsubasa Street, Bakugou parked with a sharp jerk of the wheel, nearly sending me flying forward in my seat.

“Get out,” he ordered, already out of the car before I had even unclipped my seatbelt.

I scrambled out after him, adjusting my vest and following closely. Bakugou didn’t wait for me, striding up to the apartment complex with purpose, and I had to half-jog to keep up with his long, confident strides.

"Stay behind me, and for fuck’s sake, don’t make a sound unless I tell you to," Bakugou growled under his breath. He moved like a predator, all coiled strength and aggression.

We reached the door, and Bakugou gave a swift knock. No answer.

“Useless. Figures,” he muttered, then pounded on the door with the side of his fist, his whole body radiating impatience.

Finally, the door opened, revealing a disheveled man who looked like he’d just woken up.

“Police. We got a call about a disturbance,” Bakugou said, voice flat but laced with authority. "Mind telling us what the hell’s going on?"

The man blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Disturbance? Oh—uh, yeah, me and my girl were just having a… disagreement. Nothing big. She left, though."

"Where’d she go?" Bakugou asked, his tone ice-cold.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, man, she just walked out. Probably went to cool off."

"Yeah? And how about we take a look inside, just to be sure?"

I watched as Bakugou leaned closer to the man, his entire demeanor screaming ‘don’t mess with me.’ The man swallowed hard, backing up to let us in.

The apartment was a mess—furniture overturned, a couple of broken plates on the floor, and signs that a serious fight had taken place. My gut twisted. This didn’t look like a simple "disagreement."

Bakugou’s eyes swept over the scene, his jaw clenching. “Looks like more than just words were thrown around in here.”

I stayed silent, watching him work. He was harsh, rude even, but there was no denying Bakugou’s instincts. He moved like he knew exactly what had happened before the guy even had a chance to explain.

"Tell me the truth, or I swear, I’ll make sure your next stop is a cell," Bakugou warned, his voice low and dangerous.

The man’s face went pale. “Look, man, it was an argument, okay? I didn’t touch her—”

Here's an edited and improved version of your scene to make it more engaging and polished:

“Save the excuses," Bakugou cut him off, his voice sharp as a blade. I stood by, my lips pressed into a tight line as I watched the tense exchange.

The man, dark hair slick with sweat, furrowed his brows in frustration and sighed. "Can I at least use the damn bathroom in my own house? Then I'll tell you where she went," he groaned, shooting an annoyed glance in my direction.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Bakugou's piercing gaze was fixed on me, clearly expecting me to make the call. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to stand straighter. “Uh… okay, but be quick. You’ve got two minutes,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

The man turned and walked toward what looked like the bathroom. For a second, I thought it was going to be fine—until he suddenly spun around and bolted for the door.

“Shit,” I muttered, instinctively looking to Bakugou, whose crimson eyes were burning holes into me.

“Well, don’t just stand there, boot! Go after him!” he barked, crossing his arms with a amused smirk.

My stomach sank, but I snapped into action, sprinting out the door. I scanned the street, people bustling around in the afternoon heat. Come on, Y/N… think. Where would he go?

Then, I saw him. The suspect was leaping over a fence at the end of the block. Without thinking, I pushed my legs harder, running after him. My heart pounded in my chest as I reached the fence, adrenaline surging through me. I jumped and cleared it in one fluid motion, still hot on his trail.

He was fast, but I wasn’t about to let him slip through my fingers. With a final burst of speed, I lunged forward, tackling him to the ground. The man struggled beneath me, but I pinned him down, grabbing my cuffs.

“Turn around! Hands behind your back!” I commanded, breathless but determined. I snapped the cuffs on him, securing his wrists behind his back.

Panting, I stood up and pulled him to his feet, adrenaline still coursing through me. That’s when I heard slow, mocking clapping behind me.

“Well, well… maybe you’re not as fucking useless as I thought,” Bakugou said, arms still crossed as he approached, a smirk playing on his lips.

I swallowed hard, my breath coming in shallow gasps, but I couldn’t help the small spark of pride that flickered inside me. Bakugou might be impossible to please, but I’d proved myself—at least for now.

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parsleysagerosemarytimemachine · 1 year ago

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It was Anthy all along; it was always her.

So I was picking raspberries and listening to another Utena rewatch/analysis podcast this morning (as one does), and had a revelation that blew my mind, something I hadn't put the pieces together before...

(spoilers below the cut because there's no way to talk about it without talking about all of it)

So they were reading the opening fairy tale on the podcast, the prince giving the ring to Utena, and this is what came to me:

We've always known that the prince is an illusion. Whatever Dios was, or represents, by the time they could meet Utena in childhood (in whatever sense time exists), there is no person there. To the extent that real things exist outside of Ohtori, I'd always read this as a projection of Akio, a facade of princeliness he puts on while trying to find another person who might be able to win his dueling game for him. After all, he's the one who claims to be a prince, to have been a prince, wanting to reclaim the power of Dios. He is the prince that Touga and Saionji knew, when they biked together to the church and saw Utena hiding in a coffin.

But we also know that who Utena saw in the church was Anthy, a little girl, hurting, that she couldn't help but reach out to.

And why should Akio be there? He has his world in Ohtori that he can't imagine leaving. He sends Anthy to do his work for him, borrowing the power of the Rose Bride since he no longer has the power of the Prince. We know Anthy goes into the world (as Miki and Kozue's new stepmother). We know Anthy is an illusion (you know *hand gestures at everything*, but also specifically Mamiya). Why shouldn't Utena have seen a shining eternal thing, a miracle, the power to revolutionize the world, and remember it as a prince? Why shouldn't she have accepted a ring from the Rose Bride, a promise that if she remains noble and true that they will meet again, and decide that she will be the prince for this bride herself?

And was it a good idea? To follow an illusion that doesn't exist? To be manipulated into a game she can't win? (To reach out a hand to someone caught in a trap?)

Dios has always been Anthy, for Utena.

#Utena #Revolutionary Girl Utena #spoilers #analysis #seriously don't read this until you've finished watching #because these are major thematic elements that you deserve to discover for yourself #(which took me 20+ years to put together?)#I'm sure it's been discussed before #like I'm vaguely embarrassed to write it out because it feels so obvious once I've seen it #but also I know it didn't occur to me because I won't be able to not see it this way now #something something heteronormativity is a hell of a drug #feel free to tell me if this makes any sense #or if you've known it all along #I just enjoy that there are new readings for me to discover still #Anthy

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dragonslaved · 3 months ago

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I've been rewatching Utena for the first time in. Gosh. well over 15 years. I think the last time I truly watched this series beginning to end was, at the latest, 2006. But my partner has never seen it. We're in the final 5 episodes, and I had to watch ahead to check for content warnings and the art/animation direction for the Apocalypse arc is so subtle and sinister.

Up until this point, Utena when she's in her dueling garb has been fairly unchanged except for the added flourishes to her uniform.

Just the added epaulette and tassels, the bit of ruffle at the bottom of her uniform coat.

But once she hits the Apocalypse arc, once she begins using the gondola to the arena and Anthy is pulling her sword from Utena, there is the most subtle change: she starts having lipstick on during the duels.

Anthy does as well. It's such a subtle thing that no one brings attention to. When you know what Akio is doing to her, when you know what's coming for her in the end, this subtle change is so glaring and blatant. On a first blind watch, you may not even notice it. Or if you do (like my partner did), you may not even question it.

One other subtle thing is Dios. In all the duels before when he appears, he's this featureless, faceless image.

(Literally, the final frame I can get of him coming down. This is as much as we see.)

But once she meets Akio properly, once he starts grooming her, there's the slightest change. I never really caught it before until this watch, and I know my partner didn't catch it at all.

They're such quick, subtle changes as Utena falls further and further into Akio's hands. I'm glad I'm rewatching this after so long, noticing new things to appreciate in its production.

I know for folks who have watched this series more often than I have, these are likely obvious things that have been spoken about repeatedly. But man. It really hit me this watch through.

#there are utena spoilers in here #so don't read if you haven't watched ig #but it's 2024 do yourself a favor and watch utena if you haven't #utena #utena spoilers #rgu #revolutionary girl utena #I think it's been a few days no one will see this post thankfully #waited a little to tag it but I want it here for my own archive purposes

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transmascutena · 10 months ago

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Hey hey, I forget if you've ever posted about this, but one thing that fascinates me about Utena is the food side of everything. How Akio bakes, how Anthy basically only successfully makes shaved ice, and how Utena talks about the food going bad from lack of refrigeration. How it's not the job of the Rose Bride to cook. How Wakaba being able to prepare food makes her a good wife. I have thoughts about this, but I'll avoid saying too much because I wanna hear what you have to say too

i have gotten an ask about anthy's cooking before, where i talked about the ability to make food as a symbol for agency/freedom/independence, and how anthy can cook certain things like festival food, shaved ice, rosehip jam, the cantarella cookies, but not really anything that counts as a substantial meal (the curry is a bit of an outlier here. i guess it shows that her agency is mainly expressed through messing with nanami?) anthy says she wants to get better at cooking, and i'm inclined to believe her. i think she has the potential to be good at it too, but that akio has.... discouraged her from trying, as a way to make her more reliant on him. although, i actually can't recall if akio ever does anything in the kitchen other than (allegedly) bake that cake to impress utena, so maybe i'm way off. or maybe that's another piece of symbolism i haven't quite figured out.

you bring up a good point about gender roles here in regards to wakaba too. cooking is traditionally a woman's role in a lot of cultures, which makes it interesting that anthy, who as the rose bride is supposedly meant to be the ideal bride/wife not only cannot cook very well, but, according to touga, should not cook at all? i guess that ties back to the agency thing, though. but does wakaba have a lot of agency? she has a certain degree of freedom, at least, that comes with not being tied up in the main narrative most of the time. i'm not sure. i think food and cooking is one of the (many) things within this show that does not have one specific meaning that can be used to interpret everything related to it. i suppose my conclusion is that cooking can be both a limiting role if it's forced on you (in the sense of "you need to cook well to make for a good wife which is of course something you should want to be"), and something liberating if you do it for yourself. it's also just kind of a necessary survival skill, which is why it's so telling that anthy doesn't have it.

surprisingly enough i've never really posted about utena's food talk in episode 33 or how it may or may not play into this symbolism, so i guess i'll take this as an opportunity to do that. first, during the othello game, she talks about messing up measurements when cooking, and about the flavor coming out wrong. "you can't undo it once it's done." this shows her worries about what is happening/what will happen, and is already hinting at her regret afterward. it's a metaphor, but it also kind of ties into the agency symbolism. it tells us that utena is not very good at cooking either, and hints at the similarities between her and anthy. later she talks about what to make for lunch the next day. she's rambling, trying to distract herself, dissociating, and i don't tend to read a lot into what specifically she's saying. that's not really what's important. however, i do think it's signicant that she's bringing up anthy, for one, but mostly that she's talking about something urgent she needs to do that isn't here. she's making excuses to go home, to stop. if you buy the cooking as agency thing, utena's worry about the food going bad could once again reflect her worries and doubts about the whole thing. is there symbolism to the fact that she specifically brings up salmon and eggs and asparagus and sandwiches? maybe. but i think it's too easy to get caught up in all the little details and miss or ignore the bigger picture of what actually matters (very vaguely referring to an analysis of this scene that i hate. if you know you know.)

#hope it's okay that this is just me rambling about 3 different vaguely connected things and not a super coherent analysis #would love to hear more thoughts on all this #analysis #anthy #akio #wakaba #utena #asks #m

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arweenie64 · 1 year ago

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hold on hold on hold on okay I'm gonna utenapost sorry so obviously Kiriona is the prince- but she's also kind of the rose bride. Shes an imaginary living body. John forced her soul to cling to her corpse and play out the role that was most convenient for him. She can't die because she's already dead, but he goes one step further and ensures that she is near physically impenetrable- all because he wants her to perpetually fight at the front lines of a war waged SPECIFICALLY against him (just as anthy becomes the target for the swords of hatred, which were meant specifically for akio).

I think if I had to link this instance of intertextuality to specific themes id say its really playing with this concept of sacrifice and pushing it to its limits, showing how one's identity can get so caught up in what they feel their worth is to others, or perhaps more accurately, the system. This makes me really excited to see how this iteration of Gideon's character continues to develop in Alecto (hopefully). Will she, like Anthy, learn the power of hashtag hitting the bricks, and decide not to take part in the oppressive system shes been molded into (bc if u remember at the end of Nona she thinks becoming Johns cavalier will just fix everything. Her idea of change is simply adhering to the same systems in a sense)??!?!? Idk and I'm very excited to see where all this stuff goes okay byeeeee

#the locked tomb #gideon nav #kiriona gaia #other stuff to note that i didnt know how to bring up-#gideon and anthy both have symbolic chest puncture wounds #i think the phrase “imaginary living body” describes kiriona so well“#overall uhh i love inserting utena into things its my favorite hobby i know im annoying about it xoxoxo

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crowentity233 · 2 years ago

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The Dragon's Keep (part 2)

*Finished*

Fire Lord Zuko x (Fem!) Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: You are a firebender named Ayushi, who has been accepted to guard over the royal family as a kyoshi warrior. You end up guarding Zuko through his travels to visit the sun warriors. The mission, protecting the newest dragons, begins.

The morning breeze flowed through your hair. You were taking a trip down to the market today. The busy streets came into view. The doors to different shops were opening and closing. A man opened the door for you to walk through. You grabbed a few sleep wear sets and casual wear. Then you saw a stuffed dragon and grabbed it from the shelf. You paid the merchant and stepped back out from the store.

You were paid by the kingdom for guarding the palace. There was more money in your bag than you ever saw growing up, which wasn't hard to beat.

You walked back to the palace. It was still surreal to walk up to the palace as your new home. Flashes of the dirty streets you grew up in shot through your brain. You shook your head, continuing up the steps and walking through the door with your bags.

You reached the warrior housing and sat the bags on your bed in your room. You looked around it was more bare than the other girls. They brought things from home or were sent packages from their family. You weren't so lucky. You put your new clothing items away. The time passed, and you changed into your pajama set. It was comfortable and easy on the eye. It was modest enough to walk around in the palace with it on.

You stopped at kiyi's room, knocking on the door, and peeked in, and just as you suspected, she wasn't in the room. You walked down the next few halls headed for Lord Zuko's room. You knocked on the door. Kiyi opened the door and grabbed your hand, pulling you in.

"Zuzu! She's here!" She laid down on the empty bed. "Ayushi, tuck me in, please!" She exclaimed excitedly. You walk into the room a little more comfortably, wrapping the girl up in a blanket, tucking her in. "I got you a gift today while I was out. I have a friend for your bison." She clutched her bison tightly, gasping at the dragon you extended out to her. You pat her head and sit down at the end of the bed.

"I love him! I'm gonna name him Ryu. Zuzu! Look at Ryu!." The girl called towards a door on the other side of the room.

Zuko stepped out of the door. His hair was damp and put together. He stood in the doorway leaning on his shoulder. "I see him, kiyi. He looks like he is a great friend for Akio."

Your eyes flicked back to the girl quickly. Zuko was dressed again in a silk set, but there was something so intimate and domestic about being in the Firelord's room after he bathed.

He sat down on the bed. You bowed to him from your sitting position. "Lord Zuko."

His smile was so inviting. "Ayushi." You matched his smile.

"Zuzu needs to be tucked in." Kiyi said suddenly. "Can you tuck him in Ayushi?"

"Oh, u..um.." You glanced over at the Firelord, unsure of exactly what to do. He seemed just as awkward about the situation.

His eyes traveled from his sister to you. He got up, pulling the sheets back, and laid down next to the girl. She grabbed his arm, gigging with pure sibling love.

You stood up rounding the bed and pulled the cover over him. Your eyes caught his they were still that same gorgeous golden color. You were careful not to look at his scar. You had heard from the other warriors that he didn't particularly like it when people did.

You looked over at kiyi, making sure she was pleased. She took her hand and patted her head like you did when you finished tucking her in. You looked back at the Fire Lord. The touch barrier that was so thick with wealth and power seemed to diminish as the girl asked for such a childish thing. You placed your hand on his hair and ran your hand through it softly. "All tucked in."

Kiyi handed Zuko her stuffed, flying Bison. "Zuzu, you have to hold Akio." You snickered quietly as the well-built twenty year old leader of the nation reached out and grabbed onto the stuffed Bison.

He punched you playfully soft on your leg, grinning while shifting his eyes quickly at you and then back to his sister. "I've got him, Kiyi."

"Okay, is everyone ready for the story?" You rounded the bed again, sitting at the edge!

Kiyi shouted happily. "Yes!"

You began where you left off the night before. You told the story to the pair. Right before you got to the very end, Zuko leaned up again, looking down at his sister. "She's asleep." He whispered. He stood up and picked her up. "Wait here." He whispered just as he did last night and took kiyi to her bed, laying her down.

You sat still, tracing the pattern on the expensive silk. "Are you ready?" Zuko called from the doorway. You turned your head, looking up at him. "Yes." You said timidly, knowing not to say anything but yes to the ruler. You stood and walked towards the door. "Where are we going?"

He slipped into the darkened hallway. You followed him. "Im going to teach you the dancing dragon. We're going to the thrown room, there's more room in there." You caught up with him. Your heart fluttered. Your parents would never have believed that you were walking in the fire nation palace, with the Fire Lord with you both sporting pajamas.

Your parents were from the poor side of town. The streets were dirty, buildings were in shambles, every house had a leak, and every family was hungry. Your parents died during the war. A middle class family took you in and helped you to survive and nothing more, not that they were obligated to do anything at all. It just was no real family establishment. You were just simply the pitiful girl that had nothing and was born into nothing. You had created this separate life for yourself, fighting tooth and nail to get to your position and the trust of the kyoshi warriors. You were a bender, but that only took you so far. You trained for years to get to where you were after the war.

You giggled softly at the visions of their faces if you told them. The pride they would have in your accomplishments.

Zuko turned into the throne room. "What is it?" He questioned with the corners of his lips in a gentle smile.

"Oh, nothing..." You spoke softly, embarrassed of your thoughts, taking an outward extension into reality. "I'm just thinking." You didn't dare explain anything. Your social status was pushed deep into the past.

"Oh." He said simply. He continued into the throne room.

The awkward silence was eventually broken once you stood in the center of the throne room.

"The dancing dragon is a sacred firebending form. If you want to meet the dragons, then it's necessary for you to learn it. I think it's something every firebender should learn." Zuko turned standing in front of you.

"I'm honored for you to teach me, Lord Zuko." You bowed.

"The stances that I'm in, you mirror in the opposite direction."

He took the first stance. You mirrored. The next one you mirrored again. The next time, you shifted to the same side. "Other side." You shifted the other way. You both continued until the next to last stance. You mirrored, but Zuko shook his head. He grabbed your hand and pulled it up further putting it in the right place. He nodded and took the last stance.

"Okay, that's it. Now we do it together we start here and end there." He pointed to the other side of the room. You nodded. "We both will make a circle. We can face each other so you can make sure it's right." He stood beside you, and you both took the first stance. He guided you through the steps, and you neared close to the final stance. Each step sent a vibration within you. Your fists connected with Zukos in the final stance. The vibrations disappeared.

You both stepped away. His eyes met yours. "That's the dancing dragon."

"It felt natural. I feel stronger." Your eyes gleamed, turning your hands over and around.

"It's the true core of firebending. It helped the Avatar learn firebending." He watched your curves almost take on a new form. The satisfaction of watching something he had done gives you such bliss, which fueled his confidence. He stepped closer. "Try some bending it will feel more powerful now, too."

You stood in position, then ran forward, tumbling in the air and landing on one foot with one leg extended, launching a long flame flourishing through the air. You did a few backflips landing back where you started next to Lord Zuko. The earth warrior style fighting and agility complemented the firebending.

"Yeah, it did feel more powerful. Maybe one day I can get as good as you. Thank you, Lord Zuko." You turned your eyes to him and realized that he was right beside you. Part of his body was behind you, almost touching you.

Zukos chest lifted slightly at the complement, you didnt see his face brightening with red color. You turned away from him trying desperately to hide the rosy color appearing across your cheeks. The embarrassment of being so close to him was creating evidence.

"I know you're not supposed to be guarding tomorrow, but my family is visiting Ember Island. Suki gathered a few warriors to accompany us. Kiyi would be surprised if you come too. I know she would love it." Your eyes stared at the long curtain in the room away from him.

"Yes I can pack tonight, when should I meet with you?" You accepted the invitation graciously.

"In the morning, I will tell Suki so she knows to prepare you with the rest of the group." He never moved from the position. His hands ached, you were so close, and yet it was the same as it had been the last year. He watched you from afar, never finding courage to even catch your attention. Now that he was in your field of view, he couldn't extend any further. There was no possibility that you would ever feel any emotions to a leader of a nation. All the time and energy went to leading, and there were constant targets on his back from ozai supporters. No one could take that constant threat.

"I am going to go pack. I will see you in the morning." You walked away to the throne room door.

"Goodnight, Ayushi." Zuko called out.

"Goodnight, Lord Zuko." You called back, walking out of the door. Your mind reeled, walking out into the hallway. That was such a strange experience. He must have thought you were crazy standing so close to him. You felt like you had just disrespected him, but you were invited to Ember Island for Kiyi, so maybe he didn't take it as disrespect.

You felt a hand cover your mouth and pull you into the shadows. You held fire in your hand, but the person spoke. "Shhh... it's just me. Wouldn't want to scare the boyfriend, would we?" Your hand dropped the fire, and you tried to speak, but her hand muffled it into non-existent words. "Shh..." she whispered again softly in your ear as Lord Zuko opened the door to his throne room. He walked past silently. You could hear the door to his room open and close in the distance.

"He likes you!" She let go of your mouth. Whispering loudly. Her face was twisted into a smug knowing look.

You turned to her with your arms folded. "No, he doesn't. I've been nice to his sweet, baby sister. He is just being nice. He doesn't like me. He is the leader of the nation. He doesn't have time to crush on anyone."

Her brow lifted. "I'm calling it right now. He does. You can come back to this conversation when you're out of denial. Do you like him?"

"I don't know him. He's an attractive man, but no, I do not have a crush on the FireLord. He is the Firelordddd..." You trailed sending emphasis on the status that was untouchable.

This was your best friend, Hua. Not even she knew where you come from originally. She didn't know the difference in status that would cause you to be undesirable to such a high-class man.

"He changed you to daytime watch." She kept pushing.

"His mother did for Kiyi." Your arms loosened falling to your sides.

"Okay... just know I'm keeping up, and I called it when you start to see it too." She rolled her eyes and smiled shamelessly.

"I have to go pack, I'll see you later." You shook your head and walked back to your room.

Taglist: (just ask to be added ❤️‍🔥)

@mochminnie

@i-put-the-ass-into-sass

@lylyysz

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chipsncookies · 1 year ago

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I wrote Akio's backstory 🦊 I'm not a writer, i just wanted to get this story out of my head (I've already settled on it but writing is hard and drawing it would take too long). There may be grammar mistakes but i hope it's still understandable. I hope you'll understand more about Akio after knowing about his past. Please note it contains pokemon death and brief description of gore. Enjoy!

It all started when Akio was a zorua. He was born and raised in the icelands, but the condition there was so harsh he always wished he could settle somewhere else.

By a stroke of luck, he was found by a human boy who came to that place for some errands, and instead of fearing pokemon, he thought akio was really cute and decided to take him home. He put akio inside his satchel, making sure to be very discreet about it because his dad would not approve of it.

The boy would help his dad in the fields during the day, then go home to akio, bringing food. He keeps akio in a chest so he won't be found (the kind that's in Jubilife houses).

The boy is the son of a farmer, he had to help with field work and had no time to play, and he's also socially awkward so he often feels lonely. But meeting akio changed that, it feels like he's getting a friend. Even though people think of pokemon as a pest, he found akio very cute and delightful.

Akio has always been adventurous, and he prefers the village a lot more than the harsh conditions in icelands. He doesn't know a lot about humans except he was told to always avoid them, and adult pokemon would chase them away whenever they meet one, but with this boy akio feels he can trust him. After all, why not? He accepted him and took care of him. They bonded easily and became friends.

However, this would not last long.

One day, with terrible luck, akio somehow was seen by his family member, and they chased him out. Akio not understanding anything, ran out of the house. The villagers are shocked to see him, because they're strict and would never let pokemon in. They also have never seen a pokemon like akio, as most zorua and zoroark live in the icelands. They started to chase him. Eventually akio got caught, and they began investigating where he came from. They finally traced him back to the source: the boy's house.

Akio is trapped inside a net that restricts his movements. He struggled with all his might, but couldn't break it. He's scared and confused, and he tried to call for his friend.

The villagers are angry that someone broke the rules by allowing pokemon in, they are absolutely forbidden because the villagers didn't want them to eat their food reserves, which are already scarce, and especially since winter has already started.

They demanded explanation from the boy's family. The boy's dad is an important person to the village, he's their most hardworking farmer so this is a big issue for them. He vehemently denies it, saying he would never allow pokemon, he's hardworking and always helps in the fields. He urged the boy to say something to defend their family.

The boy, paralysed from the turn of events, looks at the angry mob, looks at his dad who's defending him, and lastly at his tiny friend struggling in the net.

He turned his head away from akio and said with a trembling voice, 'I... Don't know how it got here, it's not mine.'

They managed to convince the villagers that they were innocent. Akio, not understanding what's happening, cries for the boy. The boy covered his ears, akio's cries hurt him with guilt.

Having failed to find the one responsible of bringing him inside, the villagers assumed akio gets inside by himself with his pokemon ability or something. Feeling mad it was able to get in despite their measures, and paranoid it would come back in the future, the villagers decided to punish him: by killing him.

The boy is shocked to hear this, he didn't expect them to take such drastic measures. But he can't say anything, otherwise they'll find out he lied. He went home and cried. His family thought he was just shocked from the events, and they tried to reassure him, but it's useless.

After the deed is done, the villagers threw akio's body outside the village, his blood trickling onto the snowy ground below, leaving a trail.

But as soon as the guy who disposed of him turned around, the corpse begin to move, unnaturally and grotesquely, increasing in size and breaking the net that wrapped it, until there stood a creature with thick wispy hair, sharp claws and teeth, and bitter eyes, shaking with rage and desire for revenge. Akio is reborn as hisuian zoroark.

Back at home, the boy is still crying out of guilt and despair. He only wanted a friend, and he got one, but he betrayed him. He basically killed his best friend. He sat mourning by the chest that housed akio before. The zorua always slept in there, and when he came home and opened the chest he'd always see akio with bright yellow eyes waiting for him, eager to play with him. But those days are gone.

He was too heartbroken, he didn't realise the chaos outside. But then, everything went quiet. And then he heard the door being opened. The boy, wiping his tears and slightly dizzy from crying a lot, looked at the door. Akio, now a zoroark, stood there, eyes fixated at him.

The boy wiped his eyes again, trying to see clearly. Slowly, his brain registers the creature, which makes him freeze with shock, confusion, and fear.

But slowly, his eyes catch the details (he could not turn away), the familiar light grey fur, still visible even with all the blood splatter, and more features that he recognised. The boy immediately realised it's akio, his friend in a different form, whom he betrayed.

He broke down and grovelled at akio's feet. He asked for forgiveness, saying how he regretted what he'd done so much. That he was a coward and selfish for not saving akio. Between the sobs, he offered akio to take his life, as exchange for how akio lost his.

The boy closed his eyes, ready for akio to end him. But instead of pain, he felt a light pat on his head.

The boy is confused. He opened his eyes and saw akio smiling at him. And then akio turned around and walked away, leaving the village forever.

#chips's oc #akio #chips's work #pokemon death cw #this took place a while before pla events #there's no drawings beside this one im too tired #pls read and tell me what u think!#pokemon #pokemon oc #hisuian zorua

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schrijverr · 7 months ago

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The Most Important Thing

Oliver returns home with only a chest of stuff, in it is the most important thing he has; Akio’s ashes. He tries to do right by the boy, attempting to give him a good resting place. In doing so, he finds pieces of himself again.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: grief, the mention of a canonical child death and canonical character death

~~~

The chest he brings back from Lian Yu contains what little important stuff he has gathered over the last five years. It might be a pretty long time, five years, but with the way Oliver has lived, he has learned to leave all he has behind whenever he has to flee, so what he has managed to hold onto is important to him.

Of course there’s his bow, the one that once belonged to Yao Fei, then shortly to Shado, a reminder of two of his mentors. The arrows that are with it have been made by him. He can’t ever use those arrows again, knowing they can be tracked down to Lian Yu, thus also to him, however, the thought of throwing them away is too much.

There’s the hozen in there too, the one that Shado gave him. They’ll never reconnect, not until Oliver follows her to the grave, but he cherishes it anyway. The hope of reconnecting that still lingered even in purgatory.

Alongside that there are two bottles in there too, one empty and one full.

The full one is filled with proper Russian Vodka, gifted to him by Anatoli, before leaving him on Lian Yu again. He told Oliver to take it, in case he became homesick, it’s surprising how much Oliver does feel homesick, despite going back to Starling.

The empty bottle, is one he collected from the fuselage, before allowing A.R.G.U.S. to take him back to the main land, so he could go to Russia to fulfill his promise to Taiana. It’s the empty bottle of Australian liquor that he drank with Sara and Slade, before it all went to shit. The last good memory he has of both of them. It’s sentimental, but he can’t help it. It was such an important part of his life and not having anything physical makes him feel like the memories will slip through his fingers until only the bad is left.

He also has some functional stuff in there, like the super herbs Yao Fei had, some stuff to make a fire and other tools. A basic kit to keep himself alive. A comfort to have for the worst case scenario.

If someone were to ever know about the contents of that chest, they’d probably think that the most important thing he has, is the book his father left behind. It has been something he carried on his person for all those years, his driving force before coming home, the promise he made to do better than his father. However, that person would be wrong. The most important thing Oliver has from those five years, is the small urn that holds a third of Akio’s ashes.

Oliver never thought he would have those. Mostly because he never thought that Akio would die, the young boy such a happy kid, so far away from what his parents and Oliver did. Despite being caught up in it, Akio never felt like he would die, but he has.

But even once he had, once Oliver felt that grief so deeply, he didn’t think he’d be worthy of it. He knows that Tatsu hated him for being a part of their lives and that Maseo was more annoyed with him than friendly. It wasn’t until those few days where the three of them went rogue to stop Shrieve that they became close.

Akio’s death hit all of them hard and having the brotherly role he took on for Akio be acknowledged by his parents after his death, pushed him to do what he had done to Shrieve, the anger at it all overtaking him as he let his inner darkness lead.

Back then, he saw how Akio’s death tore Tatsu and Maseo apart, their family breaking down. He would’ve given anything to fix it, to bring Akio back, but there was nothing to do.

A part of him thought of his family then, how his own death has affected them, but he couldn’t go home after that. He isn’t like Akio, young and innocent, he’s a killer.

But now he is here, coming home with his chest full of memories, being reunited with loved ones while Akio never will be.

It’s weird being home.

The house seems to have been stuck in time with only minor changes here and there. Back when he was here with A.R.G.U.S. it felt comforting, but now it’s strange. As if time hasn’t moved on here, while it did for him.

Yet, everything is different too. The people especially. Thea isn’t a child anymore and his mother has a heaviness in her shoulders, not to mention the new presence of Walter, whose stuff is scattered in the house too. It makes it all feel a little unreal, a shade off, a mimic of what he used to know.

He knows he’s different too, just like them, but he’s a new person, while they all seem close enough to who they used to be to give him an uncanny valley feeling.

His room feels the most normal. Like his mother had said, nothing has changed inside, making it feel like a shrine to the boy he used to be, the boy that died on that boat. It feels almost ritualistic to sit inside the corpse of who he used to be and go through that chest of things that he is, tainting the memory of his old self with who he is now.

It’s then that he sees Akio’s ashes again, having tried to forget about them for the past two years as he threw himself in danger to forget about who he had become.

Most of the stuff will go to his base of operation whenever he sets that up, both because of the usefulness of some things as well as to keep it all away from prying eyes. What he has gone through is private and he doesn’t want to share it with the people here, doesn’t want to bring those years home more than he already has.

However, it feels wrong to hide Akio like that. The kid was a bright light, someone good, not someone who lurked in the shadows. He shouldn’t be left in that chest in a warehouse somewhere out of shame. He should have a home.

Oliver takes out the small urn, cradling it in his hands carefully, as if it’s as fragile as a newborn baby.

With as much gentleness as his hands are still capable off, he takes it to his desk and puts it down. It immediately feels wrong, as if it’s some frivolous decoration in his lavish room. The nightstand and few shelves are also wrong.

Frustration wells up in him, as well as a deep heartache. He can’t even memorialize Akio right, what were they thinking entrusting him with such a precious thing?

He puts the urn back in the chest and gets behind his computer, researching Japanese funerary customs. Most things should happen in the first 100 days, which means Oliver has already missed all of them. Akio is also supposed to be in a family grave, but his family doesn’t exist anymore, having been ripped apart and scattered, much like Akio himself.

A thickness gathers in his throat, making it hard to swallow, but he pushes it all down. He can’t afford to break down, he isn’t worthy of grieving Akio, when he hasn’t done anything to honor the boy properly.

According to the article he found, there’s supposed to be a photo of Akio on the altar at home. He wonders if Tatsu or Maseo have one, or if Akio has gotten none of the rites he deserved.

Oliver himself might be able to get his hands on a photo of Akio, but he would have to involve someone and it’ll likely be a still from a security camera. All that, not to mention having the photo somewhere visible, would invite too many questions.

Still, the idea of an altar doesn’t leave him. He has also found some people saying that the Japanese burn incense for the dead, though it also might be more Chinese. Oliver feels so very out of his depth, but he’s trying so hard to do right by Akio. Maybe since the boy lived in China for a while, he would appreciate it?

So, when he is out in the town by himself, having ditched his new bodyguard Diggle, he gets wood as well, before going to the Foundry.

The dank basement feels more like home within seconds of him being there. He fits better in the shady base of operations than in the nice house 20 miles outside the city. If he makes it better, a little nicer, it’ll be a good place to honor Akio. Not what he deserves, but better than Oliver has given him before now.

It takes a few weeks, before he deems it all good enough. The club is still being built upstairs, but the basement is already done. It’s good. Not the warmest place, but functional and safe. Oliver feels safe. He hopes Akio will too.

He takes much care in constructing the altar, having researched it and learned that it’s called a Butsudan. It’s small and simple, Oliver hopes the care he put into it makes up for that.

Along with the altar, he has gotten a few boxes of incense sticks and a holder. He can’t risk the smell too much until the club opens and the smell of alcohol covers it, but he still burns one when he goes out that night, feeling much better than he has in a while. He knows he can never do enough, but he’s doing something.

When Diggle gets brought in, he doesn’t comment on the altar. The urn is small and doesn’t look too much like an urn as they know it here, so maybe he just thinks Oliver became spiritual while on the island. The herbs he has and the mention of Yao Fei doesn’t exactly discourage the notion, so Oliver lets him believe what he wants.

Neither of them speak about it, Diggle letting Oliver burn incense there without a complaint, until they bring in Felicity.

It has become normal for him to light an incense stick, before going out for the night. The space has become infused with the smell, making him faintly nostalgic for his time in Hong Kong, despite how it ended. It’s a comfort.

He doesn’t think much about doing it, the ordeal having become a ritual as much as suiting up and counting his arrows is. Until Felicity pipes up: “Is that a good luck thing or something? That wasn’t a judgment, by the way. Everyone has their superstitions, I mean, when I went to MIT I used to wear my good luck earrings to every exam. It just surprised me, since you’re, you know, always grumpy and practical. Not that there’s something wrong with that, you just don’t seem the type.”

Oliver lets her finish her babble, having clammed up when she mentioned it. Thinking about Akio still isn’t very easy for him, talking about him is even more difficult.

He doesn’t feel like explaining, doesn’t feel like opening that wound again and inviting all the questions about what he was doing in Hong Kong. Diggle might know that he wasn’t always on Lian Yu, but the can of worms shaped like Amanda Waller is one he’d like to keep closed.

However, he also thinks of what he’s read, the reasons he had for not having a picture of Akio. Now it seems Felicity might be his answer.

So, he answers: “It’s a Butsudan. It’s a Japanese Buddhist altar. They use it to pay respect to Buddha and family members that have died. The burning incense thing is more Chinese, to please the passed spirit.”

“I didn’t know you’re a Buddhist,” Felicity comments.

“I’m not.”

“Oh…”

It’s quiet for a second, none of the people there knowing how to continue. Felicity is too new and doesn’t know if she can push, while Oliver is awkward about communication in general, so it’s Diggle, who puts them all out of their misery. “So why the altar?”

“For Akio,” Oliver says, having to push himself to get the name over lips. “His family was Japanese, but they lived in Hong Kong.”

“Is this the you not always being on that island?” Diggle asks. “When you found your father’s message about his list.”

“It’s related,” Oliver doesn’t give much away.

“Wait, you weren’t always on the island?” Felicity interrupts, not having heard that before. “Did you start out in Asia? But then how would you get there? And why? Like-”

“Long story,” Oliver cuts her off, before she can gain steam. Before she can reply, he adds: “That I won’t tell.”

“Why not?” Felicity questions, always so ready to stand up to him when she doesn’t agree with him, despite her caution surrounding some topics.

“It’s classified.”

“Classified?” Diggle repeats, brow raised.

“Yes,” Oliver grits out, not liking the inquisition this has turned into. So he gives Akio one more glance, then pulls the hood up, allowing the monster to take over as he leaves the Foundry to put the fear of god and a few arrows in some rich socialite.

After that, he doesn’t feel like bringing it up. Those five years were his purgatory, the place between who he was and who he is. A liminal thing that is best not spoken off. The things he went through shaped him, but they aren’t things he wants to discuss.

It’s not until Vertigo comes back again and he is falling out with Tommy even more that the topic comes up again.

Lance has been furthering his hate campaign against both Oliver and Tommy, coming back with a warrant that forces Oliver to open up the door to the basement. A fear grips his heart, knowing what they will find down there, though he doesn’t show it.

It’s ridiculous to think, but Oliver hopes he’ll be able to claim that he didn’t know. Otherwise, he’ll just have to break out of prison, he’s used to life as a fugitive anyway.

His biggest fear is about everything of sentimental value he has down there. All the things that mean so much to him that will be taken to evidence lock up. God, what about Akio?

With a feet like cement, he follows Lance and Tommy down the stairs, Laurel and more boys in blue behind them. Tommy flicks on the power, saying something about how the place is a mess, but Oliver doesn’t hear a thing, too taken aback by the state of the basement.

Everything’s gone.

Tommy covered for him.

He’s been pissed at Oliver ever since he found out and it hasn’t been helped by the past day, but still he covered for him. It reminds him of when they were kids and a warmth spreads in his chest. Affection, a novelty still to feel that. To feel any positive feelings really.

“So if you don’t have anything to hide, why didn’t you want the inspector down here?” Lance asks, not ready to let it go.

Oliver is letting Tommy take the wheel completely here, the other has always been better at bullshitting and lying than he is. Indeed, Tommy has an answer ready: “Well, the ventilation system hasn’t been updated since the 60s. We really shouldn’t even be open.”

It’s clear Lance doesn’t like the fact that Tommy has an answer ready as much as Oliver does, so he jabs at something else. “So why does it smell like a temple in here? Are you trying to cover something?”

Again, Oliver is silent, but now for a very different reason. He’d been so glad that he wasn’t going to prison for the rest of his life, that he hadn’t thought about what Tommy might have done with his stuff. He removed everything, including Akio. Who knows where the urn might be now? Breathing is suddenly a little more difficult.

“We burned incense all around the property,” Tommy says. “The whole place smelled like old steel and pipes that had been leaking. Upstairs it all wafted away and got replaced by spilled beers, but down here? Like I said, the ventilation system is shit.”

It’s a good story, great even. Lance has nothing to say and leaves, obviously displeased as he goes up the stairs, men in tow.

Tommy and Laurel follow, the couple wanting to talk about what just happened. Normally, he would feel a stab at it. Though he’s fine with them dating, it takes time to get used to it. However, he’s too distracted now, staying downstairs to look for his stuff, desperately hoping to find Akio somewhere.

A few moments later, Tommy is back on the stairs, eyes following Oliver coldly and his arms crossed. After a beat, he asks: “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“Thank you,” Oliver throws back absentmindedly, still searching between the boxes as he starts to suspect his stuff has been taken off the property, hoping he’s wrong. He needs to see Akio, safe and okay. As soon as possible.

“No, I meant what you were thinking when Lance accused me of dealing drugs out of the club,” Tommy tells him, stalking over to him.

It’s not a conversation Oliver feels capable of having right now. The only stuff he still has an attachment to is gone, the things that make him feel safe, make him feel like himself, are gone. Akio is not there, the one important thing he has been able to do for the boy he failed, has disappeared, and he’s panicking.

“Where is my stuff?” he asks, not at all replying to what Tommy has just said.

“Really?” Tommy scoffs. “You’re not even going to admit to it?”

“Where’s my stuff, Tommy?” Oliver repeats, knowing he sounds a little desperate.

“I’m not telling you anything, until you have this conversation with me. How could you think that little of me? What have I done in the past six months since you’ve been home that made you think I could do such a thing?”

“You don’t understand, I need to know where it is,” Oliver says, gripping Tommy’s shoulders to look at him. “Please, just tell me. I just need to know about the wooden shrine, with the doors and the incense holder. There is this- it looks like a tin, or- or a can. Did you see it? Do you know where it is? I just need to know if it’s safe.”

Tommy is looking at him strangely, which Oliver can’t blame him for. Usually he hides his panic behind a mask of stoicism, but right now he’s incapable of that. He must look a little frazzled, maybe even visibly scared. Or crazed to go with Tommy’s other opinions of him.

“It’s with the other stuff all the way in the back in a box on the bottom,” Tommy answers still frowning. “And I was careful with all of it, I don’t know what kind of dangerous shit you have with all you do. I didn’t want to die while covering your ass.”

Oliver doesn’t even register how pointed the comment is, already having let go and halfway across the room.

It doesn’t take much effort to lift the top box off, so he can open the one underneath. The chest with all he holds dear is in it, with next to it the Butsudan with its doors closed, yet upright.

Carefully, he lifts it out of the box and puts it on the ground, before opening it up to check the inside. The urn is still upright and the lid still on it, nothing has been spilled. Akio is safe. Finally he can let out a relieved breath.

Needing to assure himself further, he takes the urn, hugging it to his chest as he closes his eyes briefly and bows his head. He doesn’t pray, god has long since abandoned him, but he does send a wish to Akio, the wish that he’s okay, wherever he might be.

Behind him, Tommy radiates confusion and maybe a little judgment. When Oliver doesn’t move, he snipes: “So, is finding that really more important than having a conversation about this? Is it a magic altar or something? Did you find the mystical arts alongside shooting people with a bow classes while you were away, is that it?”

Oliver decides that it’ll be better not to inform Tommy of the magic he indeed encountered while away. It probably won’t go over well to tell him one of the tattoos he has is magical. However, the comment still hurts a bit too and his brain is too overloaded to come up with anything other than: “It is… It’s Akio.”

“Akio? What’s that?” And it’s so weird to hear the name be said by anyone else. By Tommy. It doesn’t fit in his mouth, doesn’t fit in this city.

“He- uhm,” Oliver clears his throat. “I met him-” Fuck, he can’t tell Tommy this, he can’t tell him he was in Hong Kong, not when Tommy was there too, not when he’s mad and might tell everyone about it. On top of that, tears start to burn in his eyes.

Concerned and a little shrill, Tommy asks: “Akio was a person?”

Wordlessly Oliver nods, because he’s already said too much, but he also knows that whatever he says, it will never be enough.

“What the hell, man. I thought you were alone on that island.”

It’s a lot. It’s too much. The memories wash over him again and Tommy’s voice feels like an interrogation, as if he’s back in Hong Kong again. Back with Waller and A.R.G.U.S..

After some struggle, Oliver manages to choke out: “Was alone most of the time. He died.” The lie mixed with the bitter truth tastes foul in his mouth. How can he just erase Tatsu and Maseo from the story of their boy?

“And you just took his ashes with you and built a shrine?” Tommy asks, sounding as if he can’t believe what he’s saying, as if Oliver is a stranger to him.

“He’s Japanese, I wanted to give him a proper rest,” Oliver says.

“What happened to you out there?” Tommy asks, much like he had done during his welcome home bash. Tommy must realize that, because he adds: “And don’t feed me some bullshit line about just being happy to be alive.”

“Well you should be,” Oliver snaps, all his usual emotional defenses down until only anger remains in their place. He glares at Tommy, hackles raised. “Being alive is more of a privilege than you can ever imagine.”

As he talks he gets up from his knees, urn still cradled to his chest, but getting into Tommy’s face as he spits: “I don’t owe you jack shit about what happened to me. What I’ve seen out there, is nothing like you can imagine. It changes you in ways life here doesn’t.”

Tommy was stepping back, but now he gets right back in Oliver’s face, anger overtaking him as well. “So that’s it? You think I haven’t changed?”

“Before I left, you played hard. You played with bad people, who were into bad stuff.”

“So did you, Oliver. So, did you. And just because I haven’t gone through whatever you did, doesn’t make it that I can’t change. And just because you did, doesn’t mean you’re better than me,” Tommy yells.

Oliver just looks at him, flabbergasted. He is the worst. In what world does Tommy live in that he genuinely thinks that Oliver thinks he’s better than him?

When Tommy continues, his voice is low with an odd edge to it. “I have no idea what you’re capable off, if I’m going to be next on your list. You are a complete mystery to me. I have no idea how you find it so easy to kill people. So yeah, you don’t owe me jack shit about what happened to you, but next time you decide to think the worst of me, imagine what I now think of you.”

And with that, Tommy turns and walks away. As he walks, Oliver spots shaking hands that Tommy balls into fists, making him realize that the edge in Tommy’s voice was fear. Tommy is scared of him.

His fingers tighten involuntarily, reminding him of the urn he’s still holding. Back in Hong Kong he was arguably worse than he is now, but Akio never saw him like that. Akio was never scared of him, always trusted him and wanted to play with him. He misses that now, misses someone who was aware that he was doing some violent stuff with bad men, but who still liked him and trusted him to keep them safe.

The closest thing to Akio he has now is Felicity and even that isn’t the same, because she has been vocally against his violence on a few occasions.

Still, he doesn’t deserve her, much like he hadn’t deserved Akio. He’ll probably lead her right to her death, much like he does with everyone he comes in contact with. Tommy is smart to stay away, to be scared. He should be. They all should be.

He puts the Butsudan back where it always is, before leaving the basement behind him. He needs a drink or something.

Oliver is barely at the bar and pouring himself a drink when Diggle comes in, saying he saw an angry Tommy in the parking lot and wondering what his problem is. With the mindset Oliver’s in, it’s easiest to push everyone away and he does so to Diggle quite spectacularly.

The moment Diggle is gone, he hates himself again. These people put up with who he has become, who he is. Diggle most of all. And he gets it. Just like Oliver gets him. Gets not being able to move on until you’ve hurt someone as badly as you’ve been hurt, in a way it’s what this whole crusade is about. Not to mention what he did to Shrieve in Akio’s name.

However, he doesn’t know how to deal with any of that, beyond working and ignoring it. So he sets to work rebuilding the base into the safe zone it has always been, trying to stabilize himself once more by creating that comfort he associates with the space. And when Felicity arrives, he deflects about Diggle and goes on as usual, continuing the mission.

He’s beyond glad when Diggle still shows up to get his ass out of trouble when it proves to be more than he could handle. Though guilt tears him apart too. How is it that good people keep coming back for him? What has he done to deserve that?

He wants to do better, wants to be better. It doesn’t work with Tommy, but he’ll try again with Diggle. Because Diggle is a good person, who has done so much for him, and Diggle is a solider, who is capable of his own violence and understands why Oliver has to be violent sometimes too. He is the man who has his back and Oliver owes it to him to return that favor.

When Diggle easily puts sand over what passed between them, he is beyond grateful to him. Oliver isn’t sure where he’d be without Diggle in his corner.

The two have just made up when Felicity comes back down, saying: “Oh thank G-d. I was so worried about you fighting. I am horrible when people fight. Not to make it about me. Just happy you guys are friends again.”

Oliver smiles automatically, her babbles soothing to him in a way he can’t describe. Sincerely, he says: “Thank you, Felicity. For pointing Diggle my way.”

“Of course,” she smiles back at him, plopping down at the desk. She cracks her neck and stretches, before groaning: “Ugh, it’s going to be a long night, putting my whole set up back together.”

It’s not too late, the club hasn’t even opened fully yet and the fight had happened early. If it weren’t such an emotional night, he would have been suited up again to go out on a patrol. However, redoing the base will take them quite a bit and it won’t be the first late night Felicity has had since joining up. Guilt floods his chest.

“You can go home and we’ll set up,” Oliver offers. She has already done so much for him, he should easy her burdens where he can.

“Nuh-uh,” Felicity shakes her head vigorously. “Do you have any idea how much work I put into this set up? You’re good at your punchy-punch, but this requires delicacy and accuracy. You go use your sculpted muscles – very nice muscles – which are useful, useful is important here, shutting up about that now... Just use the- uhm, the muscles to reset the rest of the base.”

She’s slightly flushed at the end of it and Oliver can’t help but chuckle. His guilt is alleviated and he feels lighter than he has in a while, she always has that effect on him. The cloud shaped like Tommy still hangs over him, but he has hope now that it might turn out better later, after he’s given the other some air.

Diggle and Oliver carry around all the supplies Tommy had brought down there, while Felicity fiddles with her computers. The silence is companionable and they all enjoy it.

Felicity is done before them with the physical aspect, but is still setting up digitally when Oliver and Diggle wrap up their part. By unspoken agreement, the two settle in to wait until she’s done too, the three of them together remaking the base into a home.

Oliver gazes at the altar for Akio absentmindedly, letting the smell of incense invade his nostrils.

Telling Tommy about Akio today, though little and riddled with lies as it was, felt strange. Tommy obviously thinks he’s crazy for having shrine to a random person and it makes him wonder what his two partners must think. They have a little more information than Tommy, but not much more.

Today has shown him that trusting in his friends, opening up about himself, might be smart if he wants to avoid another fight like he had with Tommy.

Besides, he wants to do right by Akio, give him the proper rituals he would have had were he home in Japan. Felicity can get him a photo without it giving everything away. Not talking about Akio for his own comfort is selfish.

With a blink he refocuses his eyes, turning his gaze on Felicity. He speaks up: “Felicity?”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “What can I do you for? Not- not do you, but like what can I do for you. That wasn’t a pass.”

Her usual awkwardness soothes Oliver’s nerves a little. “I know,” he says with a small smile. “I was wondering if you could get me a photo of someone.”

“Sure, if they’ve ever been near a camera, I can do that. Whose photo do you need?”

Oliver takes a deep breath, then takes the plunge. “Akio Yamashiro. He lived in Hong Kong in 2010, but born in Japan. You won’t find records of him after that. I want one for the Butsudan.”

Felicity’s eyes grow wide at his request and he sees Diggle shift in his periphery. He knows they’ve been curious about him not always being on the island ever since he first mentioned it, so he steels himself for the questions.

They don’t come.

Instead, Felicity just nods and smiles: “Of course, Oliver,” as she starts to type, leaving Oliver confused as he stares at her.

His focus snaps to Diggle when the man snorts. After making a soft confused noise, Diggle explains: “You have a puppy like confused face, man. It’s kind of funny. We’re not gonna ask after classified things, I get it.”

“And I get not pushing sensitive emotional things with you, Mr. Grumpy,” Felicity adds. “You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

A wave of affection crashes over him at that. These two people do so much for him, from the big things to the small things. They don’t expect him to be someone he’s not, they never knew him before and are patient in getting to know him now. Oliver doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to convey how much that means to him. With a tight voice he tries anyway. “Thank you.”

Diggle and Felicity both give him smiles, before they go back to their tasks; Felicity to her computers, while Diggle cleans his gun. Oliver could be sharpening arrows, but he enjoys the moment of peace too much.

The peace is broken a few minutes later by a gasp from Felicity that she quickly tries to muffle. She clears her throat, but keeps looking at the screen as she says: “I found some photos. Uhm, from- from his school, but also from security cams in Hong Kong, if you want to pick one.”

Oliver is out of his seat immediately, but approaches the desk cautiously. He hasn’t seen Akio’s face in years.

On the screen, Akio stares back at him, the image punching the air out of his lungs. He looks exactly like Oliver remembers, happy and a little mischievous, even in the school picture from 2008. It’s from Japan, before the Yamashiro family was relocated to Hong Kong.

However, what catches his eye the most are the security camera stills. The ones are likely from A.R.G.U.S. or Shrieve’s operation, on the record only because they’d been used as blackmail or to track them all. Whatever the case may be, his eyes can’t help but be glued to them.

Diggle appears behind him, taking in a sharp breath as he sees the photos the other two are looking at.

There’s one of Maseo hoisting Akio in the air, a happy smile on his face, while in the background Tatsu watches them fondly from her seat on a bench. Another one is of Akio at an intersection, holding one of Tatsu’s hands while she carries a bag of groceries in the other. The one that catches his eye the most though, is of Akio in the botanical garden of Hong Kong, happily talking about seeing his parents soon.

Oliver knows, he remembers that moment, he himself is in the background of that still. It must have been from seconds before they spotted the bad men, as Akio called them, when they were forced to flee again. One of the last days Akio was alive.

It hits him all over again that Akio is dead. That he’s never coming back. That Oliver was too late to stop that outbreak and now he’ll never go to the botanical garden with his parents again.

Without his permission, a tear slides down his face. He has never allowed himself to cry for Akio, never allowed himself to grieve properly, too much blame on his shoulders. He still carries that blame now, but the emotions overwhelm him at seeing Akio once more and he can’t stop them.

He doesn’t sob, doesn’t even cry properly – at this point, he doesn’t know if he can still cry properly at all – just stares as tears leak down his face, as if his eyes are faulty faucets.

It takes him a while, before he gathers himself enough to say: “I- I’d like to have the school picture and the one in the bo-” a shuddering breath “-botanical garden.”

Wordlessly Felicity sends them to the printer, a hush hanging over the room. Softly and gently, Felicity breaks it, saying nothing more than: “He was nine.”

She sounds shocked and horrified, and Oliver realizes that neither of them knew who Akio was, that they probably assumed he was an adult like Oliver, that they worked together or something and that he died on a mission. Not this. Not the horrid truth that a child had been caught in the cross hairs of Oliver’s world and died as a result.

“I worked with his father,” Oliver replies, feeling the need to explain. “He and his wife housed me while I was there. I was Akio’s- I was… I was his big brother.”

“Says he died as a result that chemical accident, you were there for that?” Felicity asks, not to pry, but to understand, to give him room to process it verbally should he want to. Oliver can tell she doesn’t expect a reaction.

“Not an accident,” he grits out, all the anger at Shrieve and Waller rising back up inside of him as he hears the cover up.

“That the classified thing you can’t talk about?” Diggle comments, immediately picking up on the implication.

Oliver nods curtly.

His throat is now completely closed up and he knows he can’t say another word, even if he wanted to. Akio’s death was a result of a mission he couldn’t complete, a mission he failed. He came back to Starling with another mission. He can’t fail it. He can’t fail it like he did this one. No innocents will get hurt because of him ever again.

Tommy might not know who he is anymore, might think he’s a monster that kills so easily, and while it is true that death comes swiftly in his hands, Oliver knows that Tommy never has to fear him. He’d never hurt someone defenseless, much like he couldn’t kill the Count today. He wasn’t enough to protect Akio, but he will be enough for everyone else.

With that, he turns away from the screens. He will be enough for everyone, but it won’t change what happened to Akio. The failure weighs heavily on him and he needs a moment to process and reset.

Oliver leaves the Foundry without another word, driving himself home and crawling under his covers. Tonight the Hood doesn’t grace the city with his presence, tonight Oliver finally lets himself grieve.

The next day, he comes back to their base, unsure of how the others will act. Diggle keeps up his professionalism when they’re out and about, but in here he becomes his friend instead of bodyguard and that changes things.

But neither of them say anything. It seems they meant it when they told him they won’t ask him about it. It’s weirdly comforting to be allowed to go at his own pace.

Though it appears that not asking about it, doesn’t mean not acting. The pictures he chose yesterday are on the shrine, both of them framed in beautiful, fitting frames. It looks like a proper memorial, like the resting place Akio deserves. He nearly chokes up again at the sight.

He doesn’t thank them for it, but he’s sure it shows on his face with the way they smile kindly at him.

After that everything unravels quickly. The conspiracy behind his father’s book becomes clearer and clearer, until it is a race against the clock to save the city.

Watching part of the Glades go down from a rooftop and then finding Tommy in the rubble, slowly bleeding out, makes him flash back to Hong Kong. How the three of them worked so hard to stop it, failing and walking through the aftermath, but thinking their loved ones were safe, only to return and find that to be false.

Oliver sits next to Tommy and weeps, weeps until he has to flee, even doing that clumsily, because he can’t look past his tears. Tommy is gone. His best friend is gone. How can he live in a world without Tommy in it? How did Tommy do it when he went missing? How could he bear it?

On autopilot he goes back to the base, praying to find it semi in tact. If he comes home to find Felicity buried, he isn’t sure what he’ll do.

The structure is thankfully still standing and he stumbles inside and down the stairs, needing to see her right now.

He finds her, still sitting under her desk, likely hiding under something heavy just in case the whole thing came down.

His eyes zero in on her arms, a tidal wave of emotions overtaking him when he sees that she’s cradling Akio’s ashes and the pictures of him, making sure they were safe and wouldn’t fall from their shrine during the quake.

Felicity kept Akio safe when he couldn’t. He wasn’t there for Akio when he needed him. Again. Just like he wasn’t there for Tommy. Like he wasn’t there for all those people buried in the rubble out there, dead because he was too late to stop it all.

He came back to Starling to complete his mission, to save the city, to do right by everyone like couldn’t for Akio. But he hasn’t done anything right. Hundreds are dead because of him. Tommy is dead because of him. He has failed. Again. He can’t save anyone and he doesn’t know why he ever thought he could. He’s a monster, made to destroy. Not some hero.

His eyes meet Felcity’s, she starts to say something, but before she can, he turns around and leaves, not sparing her another glance.

Oliver doesn’t stop moving. He keeps running, running away from the memories of Akio, from the city filled with tragedy, from the fact that there will be a funeral held for Tommy. He barely stops for long enough to make sure his mom and sister are safe, before he runs the final stretch, right back to hell, to Lian Yu; the punishment he deserves.

It takes him months and a lot of convincing to leave the island behind him again. Lian Yu has become his home and his prison. If he were to leave, it is with the knowledge that he will never try his hand at being a hero again. It was on Lian Yu that he was first shaped into what he is now, into a monster. Being back here served as a reminder that he can’t change that about himself and he shouldn’t try.

Heroes tragically sacrifice themselves for others, they don’t make it home. Survivors make it home and they do so, because they’ve become killers. Oliver should keep reminding himself that he is a survivor, not a hero.

However, the city has not gotten better in his absence. In fact, people have taken his failed attempt at trying to better it, to make it worse. It’s oddly poetic, in a way.

At first, Oliver wants nothing to do with it. He keeps reminding himself of the lesson his self enforced exile was supposed to teach him. But these Hoods make it very hard. They’re his creation, he should do something about them.

The moment he gives in, Felicity is grinning, pulling him down the stairs to show him her remodeling.

The renovations take his breath away. Instead of a dark basement that could be the hide out of any common criminal with sense, it’s a sleek base of operations… a home. It feels right, if he wants to do things differently this time.

As he inspects everything, his eyes fall on the spot where the Butsudan was. It’s still there, though replaced by a nicer and slightly bigger altar. On it are the pictures of Akio and his ashes, however, they’re now joined by a photo of Tommy as well.

Felicity notices him watching and hugs his arm as she says: “We kept the incense burning while you were away.”

A lump forms in Oliver’s throat at the news. He had always thought he would have to do it alone, that no one would get it and join his mission, that the only time he would have allies was during those five years, when he was a monster working with other monsters, while the few good people that were there died.

However, Dig and Felicity prove him wrong. They have made themselves at home next to him, continuing in his absence. It’s almost effortless how they’ve fit themselves amongst the important stuff he has gathered over the years. How they expanded what he held dear until it can’t fit inside a chest anymore.

Oliver is forever grateful to them. Especially for keeping Akio’s memorial going. He hopes the boy is proud of what he is doing there, that he’s happy Oliver is still making sure the bad men won’t get anyone.

A/N:

I don’t think I’m ever going to be normal about the fact that Oliver has a part of Akio’s ashes, that those were given to him. Like can you imagine? The fact that they never mention that again is wild to me. He has hIS ASHES!

Also, disclaimer: I am not Asian, so while I did try and research Japanese (and a little Chinese) funerary rites, I claim no expertise, so all of the info is what I found online, if someone knows more and wants to share, I’d love to learn more :D

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