#arts different because when you break his heart hes spiteful. hateful
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the thing is if you broke patricks heart, it'd be so easy to get him back.... he truly is THE yearner of the trio like he'll put up a front and act like you're beneath him but the second you start telling him you miss him and you want him hes folding like a wet paper napkin. hes a stray dog desperate for love and attention from those that mean alot to him, once you're imprinted on his heart you have control over him - whether you know it or not.
#poppy speaks#arts different because when you break his heart hes spiteful. hateful#it'd be WAYYYY harder to earn his forgiveness like he holds onto his anger with an iron grip#patrick is a true lover boy like once hes in love its over I fear#even if u treat him like dirt he cant move on#he'll take you back everytime
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Ways To Potentially Make a Difference
Hey guys, tonight at 7:00pm EDT I’m gonna phone bank with Sunrise, (this a link to a text bank above, but if you guys are interested in a phone bank the website will offer you options such as the one I’m doing tonight) Sunrise is a Grassroots non profit organization dedicated to fighting climate change and giving people of any age a voice in phone banking for Kamala Harris. I’ve done phone banking in the past, and it really is surprising just how much of a difference it can make. I won’t sugar coat it, there is arguing (sometimes) and sometimes people absolutely refuse to give the candidate you want their vote, but even that is good Data too, because it tells Sunrise where to focus on next. And sometimes it really does work, for example I was speaking with a man who said he wanted to vote for Trump because he sounded something to the effect of confident in his debate, and I told him Trump wanted to take democracy with him, and he was horrified and said he was voting for Biden, and for those people who’s hearts you change or people who don’t know the location of their polling place and you tell them, it really makes all the difference and is so moralizing, feeling like I am finally doing something when for days, no months I’ve felt useless because my depression has frozen me, so much so I’m not even in college right now in-spite. But I’m going to be honest about something else, I haven’t phone banked in days of months. I am making this post to hold myself accountable so at 6:00 pm tonight (my time in Austin) I will have no choice but to go. I don’t think I am an argumentative person, I do argue with people but I hate to do so deep down. I hate to sound stupid. I hate for there to be conflict, I hate for there to be an idea a possibility of my failure, and in an ideal world there should be a way for all of us to make a difference to each of our strengths and making a difference shouldn’t have to cause us stress, but even joy. But with this election, I don’t feel I have this choice personally. With this election, I am acting even though I don’t want too, even though I am scared too, because I am so terrified of what my future will look like, both for myself, and others that tonight, I am making this promise to you all, and acting. It isn’t a noble truth, it’s a frank one and one I’m deeply sad about, that I have waited so long, and let myself get so frozen before I act, but tonight I am trying to change that, because this is a way we *can* make a difference. I know the idea of conflict is scary, but for me at least, a future of Trump who wants to ignore every article of the constitution is scarier. Right now, a quote that’s helping me is “bravery isn’t not being afraid, it’s being afraid and acting in-spite of it.” And let me tell you all, Sunrise will give you instructions every step of the way, there’s a script phone bankers read of off, you can stay pretty close to and on the zoom call the administrators can answer any questions you have and really breaks it down for its listeners, you can even message them during the phone bank and pause at any time if you have questions. And if you guys don’t want to phone bank tonight, the link I gave above has other days you can try if you don’t want too do it tonight as well. And lastly, if you don’t want to phone bank, I completely understand, it has taken me this long to commit to it tonight.
There are, other ways to make a difference. You can make art for a change, YouTube videos analyzing why Trumps speech’s flopped, crashed and burned, interpretive Dance about why we can’t have Trump in office, or a science video about why Trumps logic is bullshit. And a thousand other ways I can’t think to name. Really, just because I’m not creative enough to think of ways to make a difference more than posting this on Tumblr, Phone banking and making art, doesn’t mean y'all can’t do a thousand times better and think of a thousand things more than I can. And it doesn’t have to be flashy things either, it can just be simply voting or reblog ing this post to as many people as possible which I hope you all do. In solidarity, and I know my art isn’t that great, but for every person who says they voted, or lists some way they made a difference in this election in the comments, I’ll do an art peace for them. It’s not too late to take action. And I hope you all are doing well. sincerely,
-A Scared Person
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I do want to give you a hug— The biggest hug. But that would only be serving myself, knowing that you never actually loved me. There is a difference between loving someone & being infatuated with them. The latter generally doesn’t have a good foundation to stand on.
Knowing that you want nothing more than to burn me down breaks my heart on so many levels. The fact that you’re willing to lie about our situation tells me even more (I heard the lies in the recording. And even though you caught ‘Pig Bob’ in a bunch of lies, you’re still willing to be friends with her & work alongside her, for what? To spread hate…? No, you never loved me. You only loved what I provided, and at this point you’re not even acknowledging that; the whole 2 years of effort that I put in: love, energy, time, sacrifice, created a ‘home’ for our little family. But that doesn’t matter, because as long as you feel wronged you have justified it in your mind to be unkind, cruel, malevolent, vindictive.. None of these things even remotely echoing any traces of ‘Love’. So— I’m the bad guy— I always am, even when I’m willing to take responsibility for my part in the whole situation.
You wiped my computer with everything i had on there. I haven’t wiped the drive. And trust me, a spiteful person would. But that is not who I am. I wanted to see you before you leave, ya know— In case we never get the chance to again in this life- - In case one us dies in the near future…but part of me feels like that’s exactly what you want.
I will continue to pack your things that I believe had sentimental value to you. I know you didn’t mean to leave a lot of the art the boys have made for you. I know that you cared about your friend, Hunter whom passed away, and I also packed his art that he made.
You are not my enemy.
And the way I look at this life, you will always be my family. Even if you denounced me from yours.
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A Lick of Paint
Summary: Spencer has no idea his best friend is harboring a secret talent
A/N: This was is one-shot request from a little while ago! I hope you guys enjoy it
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Artist!Reader)
Category: Fluff & Smut
Warnings/Includes: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding, paint is involved (but it doesn’t go anywhere it shouldn’t), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 3.6k
Request: “Would u do one where it’s a fem!reader x spencer (smut or fluff what ever feels right) where they’re best friends and the reader is very private and one day spencer comes over to her apartment and sees that she’s a really talented painter/drawer/artist ? Thank u!!”
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He didn’t have a crush on her. No way. She was just his best friend, nothing more. Just his best friend who he thought about all the time, his best friend who he knew everything about, who he couldn't wait until tomorrow to see.
They got in from their latest case at half past midnight, he was a night owl, and he knew she was too, so why would she mind him showing up uninvited? He hadn’t seen her in 15 days and he probably could wait one more, but he really didn't want to.
Showing up at her door after 1am with a bottle of wine and some snacks he took a minute to run his fingers through his hair and straighten out his shirt before he knocked on the door. He could hear a rustling from the other side, and he could see the light shifting about beneath the door frame. So she was home, and she was awake, and he was trying to suppress his eager little smile.
“You can’t keep calling over this late Mrs. Warner! I don’t have any of your mail—Spencer!” she says it in a little yelp as she pulls the door completely open. And she's standing in front of him in nothing but an oversized button up shirt, her hair’s all messy around her head and there’s a little pencil tucked behind her ear.
He’s not really sure what’s going on but he’s sure that he likes it.
“Just me” he pulls his lips into a small smile and gives a tiny little wave with his free hand, shaking the bottle of wine in his other. “I hope I’m not intruding, we just got in earlier than I thought we would and I figured you’d still be up”
As he’s explaining she’s shutting the door slightly again, hiding her body behind it just a little. And even if he wasn’t a profiler he’d know she was uncomfortable, so he starts to shake his head.
“You know what, don’t worry about it! I can come back another time— or I can— I can give you some space if you need it? This was a stupid idea anyway, I should go— I’m gonna go!” he knows he sounds stupid, he’s a rambling mess but before he can properly retreat she’s swinging the door open fully again, reaching out for him and just grabbing him by the strap of his satchel.
“No Spencer wait! I’m happy to see you, I really am” she pulls him to the doorway, letting him step inside. “It’s just— messy? And you haven’t seen my apartment like this before” she’s rushing it out once he gets inside, placing her hands on his shoulders to try and spin him around before he can catch a glimpse of the state of her living room.
“Just gimme a second to tidy—”
“Do you— are you an artist?” he’s not even listening to her anymore, he’s completely fixed on the pages and sketchbooks all scattered around her living room. The sofa is pulled back to create space for the huge canvas that’s spread out all over the floor. Paints and brushes all lined up next to it.
“No!” she shakes her head, “Well not really, I just, I draw sometimes, and paint I guess? But it’s just for me” she’s still got her hands on his shoulders, trying to turn him around in spite of the fact that he’s already seen everything she was trying to hide. Or had managed to keep hidden until now.
“You never told me?” he just looks confused now more than anything, but his eyes are still blown wide as he starts to walk towards the area of the room covered in her materials.
“It’s really nothing Spencer, I didn’t want to tell you, because then you’d want to see, and then I wouldn’t want to show you, or I would show you, and then you’d hate it, and you’d just tell me you liked it to be nice, and I can tell when you’re lying Spencer, and I couldn’t handle that. So yeah, I didn’t tell you. But I haven't told anyone.” she’s not looking at him when she speaks anymore, her hands are just wrapped tight around her body protectively. This felt like she was so entirely exposed.
She had only kept two secrets from him all these years. Her art. And her unending infatuation for him. How could she not let him in when he showed up at her front door so excited, and looking so cute in his little sweater with his messy curls.
“Hey” he reaches out, placing a gentle hand on her forearm, coaxing her to unwrap them. So they fall to her sides and she feels even more exposed now. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. If you want me to stand out in the hall while you hide all of this stuff, and then we pretend none of this happened, I’ll get comfy out there right now. But I just need you to know that I love you very much, and I’d support anything you ever choose to do. And I know what I want shouldn't factor in, but for what it’s worth, I would like to see some of your work— It doesn't have to be now! But just, if you ever wanted to show me anything, I’d love to see it.”
She can feel how earnest the words are, and she knew he loved her, but it was always so nice to hear it out loud, coming from those gorgeous pink lips. She wants to speak but the words feel like they’re almost caught in her throat when she looks up at him, she has to force them out.
“I’ll show you” she breathes, “I want to show you”
His eyebrows shoot up as she speaks, “I didn't mean— you don’t have to!” he rushes out as she goes to fetch one of her sketchbooks from the ground, handing it to him.
“I want to, honestly. If someones going to see this stuff, I want it to be you” once the sketchbook’s in his grip and out of her hands completely she walks away from him, going to sit on the ground next to the canvas. Right where she’d been sitting when he knocked on the door earlier.
Neither of them say a word while he goes through it page by page. It doesn't occur to her that she’s not sure which one she handed him until she can hear footsteps approaching her from behind.
When he sits down beside her he’s got the sketchbook open to a double spread and she recognizes it instantly.
“Are these drawings of me?” he asks, and it’s almost a whisper, like he doesn’t want to scare her. But she nods.
“Um, yeah. There’s actually a bunch of you in these sketchbooks. Your bone structure is just— I don't know— it’s nice to look at” his lips curve up in a small smile at that.
“You think I’m nice to look at?” he teases and she rolls her eyes,
“From an artistic perspective, you're interesting” she tries to walk it back.
“So now I’m just interesting?” he asks, a little smug now that he can tell she’s nervous.
“That’s not what I said!” he starts to chuckle then, closing the notebook and placing it down on the ground behind him.
“Relax, I’m messing with you, and for what it’s worth I think you’re nice to look at too. From any perspective” those few words make her forget where she is completely, they make her feel an entirely different kind of worry than the one she’d been experiencing earlier.
“And I love your work. You said you could tell when I was lying, am I lying?” he’s looking straight into her eyes as he speaks, and she can feel the way her heart is palpitating.
“No, you’re, uh, you're telling the truth” she shakes her head, but his eyes stay focused on her.
“What’s going on this canvas then?” he asks with a smile, and she breaks the eye contact so she can grab another one of her notebooks to show him some of the thumbnails she’d drawn for it.
“This is the idea, I think I need to practice it on something smaller though, just to get a feel for it” she explains as she points to the different shapes on the page, but then Spencer gets an idea.
“Use me” he says, and she just looks at him perplexed, “You said I was interesting, use me as your canvas?” he pulls off his cardigan as he speaks, rolling up his shirt sleeves to expose his bare arms.
“Spencer, I meant like, a smaller sheet or something, not your arm!” she’s laughing it off, mostly because being in close contact like that with him would probably break her.
“Well use my back then” he says it like it’s obvious, taking off his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt from the top, getting to the third button before she reaches out to stop him.
“You don’t have to do that” she says it with a laugh, like her heart’s not beating out of her chest from the little glimpse of bare skin she can see through the open part of his shirt.
He looks straight into her eyes as he speaks, “I want to.” the words settle in the air between them and they come to a silent agreement. Her hands falling from his so that he can undo the rest of his buttons, shrugging out of his shirt so that she can see his bare torso.
He sits like that for a second, awaiting instructions.
“Um, you should lie down on your front” she says, gesturing to the canvas laid out on the ground, “Wait!” she calls out as he moves to lie down, “You should probably take off your trousers? I don’t wanna get paint on them or anything”
It’s the truth really, but it still feels silly to say out loud. Luckily he just laughs a little and takes them off, but the little clinking sound his belt makes does something to her breathing.
By the time he’s laying face down on the canvas, his head resting on his folded arms, she’s got her materials all lined up next to her. She kneels down beside him, but as she's about to start it occurs to her that this is the complete wrong angle to start the piece. And she knows where she needs to sit, but she’s got no idea how to ask.
“Spencer— I can’t really— this angle is a bit, um…” she stutters
“Maybe you should sit on me?” he asks, uncharacteristically calm, maybe it was the way her voice kept going up an octave, or how fast her heart had been beating almost this entire time, but something made him realize that he wasn’t the nervous one here for maybe the first time since he’d known her.
“You would— You don't mind?” she asks before even moving, and he smiles to himself.
“How could I?”
With that she climbs in top of him, resting a leg either side of his hips. She’s painfully aware that the only thing separating them now is the thin layer of each of their underwear. But she pushes the thought aside as she gets to work.
Spencer’s quiet and well behaved for most of it, only remarking every now and again when the paint was cold against his skin, or when he had to move just a little. All in all she’s finished within an hour.
“Are you finished?” he asks, his eyes closed, relaxing beneath her as she worked. There was something almost therapeutic about the feeling of the brushstrokes against his skin. But he hadn’t felt one for 3 whole minutes now.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just admiring it” she says, “I’ll take a picture for you” she reaches for her phone, snapping a quick photo. Then she sits up off of him and he misses the weight of her on top of him instantly.
When he sits up she sits down opposite him, handing over the phone so that he can take a look at the painting that adorned his back. He almost couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. The delicate lines, the striking colors, the perfect hands that had painted it.
“This is— I don’t even have the words” he says it in a hushed whisper, “I love it so much” she knows he’s telling the truth again, his eyes don't even look up from the screen to see her reaction, they’re still completely transfixed on the photo. When he does look up he’s smiling.
“Am I telling the truth?” he asks and she nods, but something about her nervous little expression, coupled with her sky-rocketing heart rate gives him the confidence he’s needed for years.
“What if I told that I’ve liked you for a very long time? Would I be telling the truth about that?” his smile is gone, instead it’s replaced with half-lidded eyes and softly parted lips.
For a second she’s not even sure if this is really happening, her eyes trail along his bare torso, taking in the tiny bits of paint that made it down his sides. When her eyes come back up to look in his own, still trained on her she can’t even speak, instead she’s lunging at him, pulling him in by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.
She parts hers after a moment, allowing Spencer to slip his tongue inside, tangling with her own as his hands fly out to grab her by the waist, pulling her into his lap. When they break apart their chests are heaving, breathing ragged, staring straight into each others eyes.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he gasps before his lips are on hers again, hungry and eager.
Her hands start to roam all over his body, soothing over the planes of his skin, digging her fingernails in every now and again, forcing a little moan out of Spencer each time. When he finally grows too impatient his fingers start to work open the buttons on her oversized shirt.
After a minute he’s managed to get them all open and he can pull the shirt apart. As it slouches off of her shoulders he can see her underwear, it’s mismatched and there’s something endearing about it. The fact that neither of them anticipated this. But that was probably for the best, if he knew this is what he was going to do tonight his nerves would’ve gotten the better of him.
His hands are on her immediately, grabbing her breasts over the light cotton fabric, squeezing them gently as he presses his mouth against her neck, planting soft kisses all along it. She takes the time to shrug out of the shirt completely, and his hands snake behind her to unhook her bra and pull it off. Exposing her breasts completely for just a second before his mouth is on them. Cupping one in each hand and placing rough, sloppy kisses all over the soft skin as she moans above him.
“Spencer” she says it with a little gasp as his lips wrap around one of her nipples, just the sound of his name tumbling from her lips was enough to make him hard.
“I need you” she whimpers, and he's gone, bringing one of his hands down between her legs, ghosting over the crotch of her panties to feel the damp patch that had formed there.
“You’re so wet for me” he breathes against her ear, pushing one of his fingers harshly against the fabric, right against her clit, forcing another moan from deep in her chest.
“Fuck, I’ve been wet since I climbed on top of you” she moans, “I was worried you were gonna be able to feel it” she says with a breathy laugh.
“If I’d have been able to feel this,” he says, rubbing small circles over her panties, “then you wouldn’t have gotten to finish that painting”
Once he takes his fingers away she pushes him down by his shoulders, finally straddling the other side of his hips like she’d been thinking about doing for the past hour, or past several years. But he lets out a small yelp of protest.
“The painting!” he says as his back collides with the canvas but she chuckles.
“Fuck the painting” she leans in planting feverish kisses all along the expanse of his neck, sucking and biting in spots so that they’d hopefully leave little bruises later on.
From there they both give up on trying to preserve any of the art on Spencer’s back. Within a matter of minutes it was smeared all along the canvas beneath them. Along with some of the paint one, or both of them, had managed to knock over.
He’s not sure exactly how it happened but at one point he grips her waist and leaves a blue hand print along her skin from the paint he’d managed to put his palm in. When she catches sight of it she just lets out a small laugh.
“I don’t care” she says, when he’s looking up at her with just the smallest hint of worry, “As long as it doesn't get inside me we’re alright”
Before they get too messy she sits up off of him for a minute, taking off her panties and using them to wipe off the little bit of paint that had somehow ended up next to Spencer’s bottom lip. He lets out a small gasp as she traces the fabric along his skin and mutters a tiny, “Good as new” in her sultry sweet voice.
And then her lips are on his again as one of her hands snakes down in-between them to pull at the waistband of his boxers, she gets them down far enough to pull his cock out so that it was right in front of her. He was already achingly hard but something about the size of if in her nimble fingers made him twitch in her grip, leaking from the head with the anticipation.
“God, the things I want to do to you” she gasps as she pumps him up and down in long last strokes, squeezing every now and again as he squirmed underneath her, “But right now I need you inside me Spencer”
With that she rises up on her knees, hovering over him and lining his cock up right between her legs. She takes a second to tease him, running the head through her folds, so that he could feel and hear just how wet she was for him. Once he looks like he can’t take even one more second of the teasing she lowers her hips slowly, sinking down onto his length bit by bit. Right until her hips were flush with his own and he was buried completely inside of her.
They both had to take a minute to savor the feeling. The way she was so wet and warm around him, so tight that he could feel the way she clenched around him.
The way he stretched her out so perfectly, filling her up in a way that made her think they might actually be made for each other.
And then she starts to move, pumping her hips up and down, leaning forward slightly so that she can rest her hands on his flushed chest for support. She starts off slow, almost at a teasing pace, taking him in as deep as she could each time.
“You feel even better than I imagined” he mutters, his hands coming up to grab her hips, leaving another set of handprints in their wake. “So perfect”
She leans down a little further so that she can place a small kiss on his lips.
“God, you do to! Didn’t know it could feel this good” she moans without really thinking about it, and then she realizes it’s the truth. Something about the anticipation made all of this feel so much better than it ever had with anyone else.
With his hands guiding her now, gripping her harshly, she starts to move faster. Working up and down with more force, both of them panting and moaning desperately as they grew closer and closer.
He’d dreamt about it, imagined it, thought about it, more times than he’d care to admit. But seeing her now, on top of him with her lips softly parted, little whines falling out of her as she hit her climax, he realized his mind could never do this justice.
“Fuck! Ah— Spencer, I’m gonna—” her hips slow to almost a stop, working up and down still but with staggered movements as she rides out her high. Thankfully Spencer’s only a second behind her and she can feel the way he's spilling inside of her, filling her up completely. Then she collapses flat onto his chest, both of them are covered in a sheen of sweat that almost makes their bare skin stick together.
“You’re covered in paint you know” is the first thing Spencer says, his fingers tracing along her back.
“You’re one to talk” she jokes, dragging her finger through the streak of red paint that had gotten on his neck somehow.
Then he finally turns his head, looking at the spilled and smeared paint that lay around them on the once bare canvas.
“I thought you needed this canvas for that painting?” he asks, but she just looks up at him with a smile.
“I think this turned out better”
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Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
In order to keep Y/N safe from danger, Spencer vows to keep their relationship a complete secret from everyone they know. However, as their romance gets more serious, Y/N and Reid begin to realize that no matter how in love they are, they may have been doomed from the start.
A/N: Back at it with a hopefully very angsty fic! This is of course inspired by the Taylor Swift song, but you don’t need to be familiar with the song to read and enjoy! Also I made a playlist for this one shot, which you can find here (its best if you listen to it in order and of course you don’t have to listen as you read, but if you enjoy that kind of thing, I thought it would be fun). Additionally, in order for the timeline of this fic to make the most sense, I’m choosing to ignore the Lauren Reynolds subplot, because trying to incorporate it and explain it would be distracting and unnecessary in my opinion. Thanks for reading!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Type: Angst
Word Count: 3.9K
Content Warnings: Some cursing, general fighting angst, discussion of pregnancy, brief mention of abortion (follow up is left intentionally ambiguous, based on your own desires and beliefs you are allowed to decide where that aspect goes (pro choice tings))
“I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?”
Spencer Reid hated funerals.
Somehow he felt he was always invited to one, and no matter how hard it was for him to be there, he always made every effort to go. So when Hotch had to plan Haley’s funeral, Spencer knew he had to go, no matter how much he would hate it.
He looked down to the grass as his supervisor cried over his now dead wife, the most emotion he had seen from him ever. He refused to look up and watch, although there were at least a hundred people there to mourn Haley, this moment felt innately private to Hotch. Spencer didn’t think it was his place for his eyes to intrude.
So he stared at the lawn and got lost in his own mind.
Right then and there he realized he never wanted to go through what Hotch had to go through. No matter how many philosophers described love in the most beautiful, enchanting way, Spencer didn’t want it anymore.
He didn’t want to go through a heartbreak, because how worth it could it be?
Of course, all information he had in his repertoire pointed to the claim that it was worth it. Yet he couldn’t pay attention to Oscar Wilde, trying to tell him that “hearts are made to be broken,” or E. A. Bucchianeri screaming that “grief is the price we pay for love.”
All he could see at that moment was the most stone-faced man he had ever known, breaking down in front of everyone he knew over the woman he loved.
At that moment Spencer Reid vowed to completely give up on love. He would become the best profiler to ever live. People would compare him to Jason Gideon, but Spencer Reid would win every time. Spencer wouldn’t let himself be like Gideon and get so hung up over a person that he couldn’t ever work anymore.
So when Spencer left the funeral and went to bed that night, he was confident that he would sleep alone like that forever. It was comfortable like that and he was happy. Who needs to be in love?
Not Spencer Reid that’s for sure.
Well, until three months later, when Spencer Reid met Y/N Y/L/N.
She was beautiful, and Spencer knew he wanted to get to know her the first time he laid eyes on her.
But he was doing such a good job recently…. Even Hotch was impressed with his work ethic. The only one who had talked to him about his lack of emotion was Penelope, she seemed concerned when Spencer told her he didn’t want to meet let alone go on a date with the cute nerdy barista from her go to coffee shop. Spencer refused to reason with her, he was too focused on proving himself to Hotch and the rest of the team.
Even though in the back of his mind, Spencer knew he had already proven himself to the rest of the team, now he just needed to be good enough for himself.
A truly impossible task.
But he was still trying to do it, so he didn’t talk to the barista at the new coffee shop he was trying.
He wasn’t expecting her to try and talk to him. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to give up his own reasoning.
“That’s a lot of sugar, sugar. Are you as sweet as your coffee?” she said, giggling as she did it. She knew the line was cheesy and stupid but she had been eyeing Spencer Reid since he came in and knew she needed to get his attention. Luckily, he couldn’t help but laugh.
Their first date was right then and there. They got distracted and talked till closing, Y/N’s coworkers noticing she was actually putting herself out there and deciding to pick up her slack so she could continue.
“So are you going to call me Dr. Reid or were you just leading me on for 3 hours?”
“Of course I’ll call you, how else am I going to get you to watch Doctor Who?”
Y/N smiled, “Well I know this is kind of forward, but I have this art exhibit tomorrow, I would love to see you there. But don’t over think that! I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know. I have a bet to win amongst the other art students, whoever has the most people come to see them wins one of those giant Costco sheet cakes. I need that sheet cake Spencer.”
Spencer smiled, “Well, I am from Vegas . . . Maybe I could help push the odds in your favor.”
“Well I can’t wait to see you there. Tomorrow, 6 pm, I’ll text you the details.”
It was only when he laid down to sleep that Spencer remembered his philosophy on love, but strangely, he did not care.
He may have been trying to freeze his heart, but Y/N was coming in with a blowtorch.
And he didn’t mind. In fact he unlocked the door to let her in.
So when he arrived at work the next morning, he fully intended on going to her art show. He thought about what flowers to bring her. . . was this a date? Was last night a date? Were roses too strong a message? He couldn’t do anything red, it was too forward. Pink? What if she saw it as stereotypical because she’s a woman, maybe she hates pink?! Yellow Tulips were safe, but if he got her yellow tulips then she would think they were just friends and Spencer didn’t want to be just friends.
His internal debate was interrupted by none other than Penelope Garcia, but not to interrupt their paperwork day with a case, but to make an announcement to the bullpen.
“Hello my loves! I have an interesting idea for some team bonding tonight, my favorite barista and dear friend has invited me to her school art show. Of course she needs the most support humanly possible, so you all need to come with me and look at cool art!”
“Who’s this friend of yours Penelope?” JJ asked.
“Oh Jayge you’ve met Y/N! She’s lovely and I’m sure an incredible artist. You guys will all love her!”
Suddenly Spencer remembered Hotch and his broken down faces at Haley’s funeral. He remembered his philosophy on love and his fear of heartbreak.
But he also remembered how alive he felt with Y/N. How the way she laughed like a little kid and how that made him feel giddy. He remembered how she was always so interested in what he had to say. He remembered that he really liked her.
And at that moment, Spencer realized that he did not have to choose between being in love and keeping his heart safe from the devastating heartbreak of seeing his true love die. He realized that the reaper could only find Haley because Hotch let people know they were together Because everyone knew of Hotch’s wife, she was in constant danger.
Maybe if he kept Y/N secret he could still be with her.
“Spencer! Did you hear me?”
“No, um sorry Garcia what did you say?”
“I asked if you were going to come to Y/N’s art show, you know you too would make such a cute couple! You should totally come.”
“I actually can’t, I’m not feeling well.”
She sighed, “That’s what you said last time I tried to get you two together 187 . . . Do you want to talk about anything Spencer? You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“I’m fine, I just have a headache. I don’t want to go out tonight.”
She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, before following Morgan to the kitchen. Spencer knew she was going to say something to him, but he didn’t care. He had found the perfect solution to his conundrum.
And he knew exactly what flowers to send to Y/N.
Y/N texted him thirteen times, and waited an extra hour after the open house closed in case he showed. So although she went home empty handed, one person away from enough cake to feed fifty, she received a call from Spencer Reid.
“Hey, where were you tonight? I was looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m sorry Y/N, something came up, but I have something for you! Are you still there?”
“Oh no, I just got to my apartment. I can send you the address.”
“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
And five minutes later Spencer was at Y/N’s door, with Chinese take out and white peonies, a flower known for its apologetic symbolism.
Y/N blushed, “You didn’t have to bring me flowers Spencer . . .”
“Well I wanted to bring some to your show, but I figured this could be the next best thing . . . And maybe we could eat some of your Costco sheet cake afterwards. Sounds like a balanced meal to me.”
“Although I love that idea, I unfortunately came home tonight sheet cake-less.”
Reid frowned, “How close were you? Would I have made any difference?”
“Oh no!” Y/N lied, “I was way off, don’t even worry about it.” She smiled, “I’m just excited that you're here right now.”
Spencer blushed and looked down at his feet, “Well I’m excited to be here.”
Four months after that night, Y/N asked Spencer a seemingly stupid question while they were eating take out at her apartment. “Spencer, I love takeout and all but we haven’t gone out in public together since the first time we met. . . Call me stupid but I’m starting to wonder if you don’t want to be seen with me.”
Spencer sighed, “Y/N, it’s not that it’s just . . . complicated.”
“I just don’t get it. Am I the second woman or something?”
“No! Absolutely not! You are my one and only flower,” he said, smiling and then leaning in to kiss her nose. She giggled in response, but quickly remembered the serious nature of their conversation. “Y/N, you know what I do for a living.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”
“Not too long ago, my boss was targeted by a serial killer who made it his mission to make his life miserable. In doing so he killed his wife. I just . . . I don’t want that to happen to you Y/N. I think I’m falling in love with you, and I can’t put you through that.”
“Spencer . . . I love you too.”
So no matter how badly Y/N wanted to tell her family, or update her Facebook status, she respected Spencer, and although she didn’t completely understand his concerns, she wanted him to be happy.
So she spent ten more months like that, catering to Spencer Reid’s peace of mind. Pretending to smile as he told her stories of all the funny things his team members did, all about their partners, and their love lives.
A couple times now, Y/N asked Spencer if she could meet them, but Spencer always shot it down. When he first mentioned the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, Y/N had secretly hoped it would be one of those things that was forgotten about within a week or two. But no. It had been many, many weeks, and Spencer still didn’t want to be seen in public with her.
And by now that was all she wanted. To go on a real date, to introduce him to her friends, to actually be able to tell her coworkers that something did come from that guy she hit it off with.
Everyday, Y/N felt she did the same exact thing, she went to work, would come home and if Spencer was still in Quantico, she would convince him to come over. (They had been dating for over a year now, and Y/N had never been to his apartment. She didn’t even know where it was). If Spencer did come over, he would usually bring some kind of dessert with him, and they would talk and be merry in their own little secret oasis. A couple weeks ago, Y/N started to get this uncomfortable, uneasy feeling that encompassed her whole body, her whole being. Every part of her was trying to tell her that Spencer Reid was not the man for her. And even though she was still very much in love with him, she agreed.
Although she loved Spencer for the person he was, the man who brought her every different flavor of cheesecake from the bakery across town (one a day for fifty nine days straight), the man who begged her to make him a painting for valentines day instead of buying him a present, the man who cried when she did and laughed when she did and-
There were a lot of things to love about Spencer Reid, but there were a lot of things to hate about their relationship.
She hated the time she bought a gold locket in the shape of a heart, and put a picture of them in it so she could keep him with her all day long, and he made her return it because it could fly open and someone could recognize him. She hated the day she came home with a little beige kitten named Betsy and Spencer made her give Betsy to her sister so that he wouldn’t get cat hair on his clothes and have to answer a million questions. She hated the time Spencer missed her birthday weekend because he had a case and couldn’t give an excuse to why he couldn’t go. She hated that Spencer was her entire life, while she seemed like just an inconvenience to his.
And most of all, she hated that she loved him so much. Because deep down she knew that she could never leave Spencer Reid, but she also knew that there was no way they could last if nothing changed.
Just then Spencer knocked on her door, she had offered him his own key many times, but he declined because he didn’t want anyone to see it on his key ring and ask what it was for. She let him in, and right away his fun perky smile dropped. “You’ve been crying. I can tell.”
“Is that the kind of thing they teach you in FBI school?”
“Yes actually, but that’s not the point,” he said, dropping his bouquet of red chrysanthemums on Y/N’s coffee table and grabbing one of her hands with both of his. “Talk to me Y/N.”
She sighed, “I love you Spencer, but I just don’t know if we can do this anymore.”
“What do you mean flower?”
“Spencer we’ve been together for over a year-”
“One year, two months and five days,” he corrected.
“Yes, yes that. We’ve been together for one year, two months and five days but no one except us knows that.”
“Y/N I thought you were okay with that, I just want you to be safe.”
“I thought I was okay with it but,” she paused, afraid of what she wanted to say, “I’m not Spencer, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you. To really be with you. What happens if we ever get married, do we have to get eloped, would you even let us get married because you need someone else to watch? When do I get to tell my mom I’m in a relationship? What if you get hurt out in the field, and no one has heard of me, let alone knows to call me, and we never get to say goodbye? How far do you plan on taking this?”
Spencer grew flustered, “Um, I- I don’t know? I didn’t know you were even thinking about those things.”
“Do you think about those things? Things like getting married?”
“You’re the love of my life Y/N, of course I do.”
“Well then something needs to change. We can’t live like this anymore.”
“Things will get better Y/N, I promise you, we’ll start small but I’m going to make this better for you. Actually, um we can start right now,” he started digging through his messenger bag. After a minute, he pulled out a smaller gold heart locket than the one you had originally purchased for yourself. “I, um I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I feel like now is the best time. I couldn’t find the same one, but it’s the same picture inside.”
She teared up, “I love it. It’s perfect. Here, put it on me.” She turned around and pushed her hair to one side so that Spencer could clasp the delicate chain around her neck.
They kissed, and afterward Spencer spoke, “I hate to ruin this moment, but I’ve had to use the bathroom ever since I got here.”
Y/N laughed, “Ok go, I’ll be waiting.”
While waiting for her love to come back, Y/N admired her flowers. Ever since Spencer began to get her different flowers to symbolize different things she had developed an abnormal botany fascination. She would always beat Spencer to explaining the symbolism of her latest bouquet, so she already knew the red chrysanthemum was a symbol of prosperous, passionate love in most countries. However she also knew that in Italy, chrysanthemums were a death flower, given only at funerals.
Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if some unconscious part of Spencer’s genius brain was beginning to feel the same way she did. Three weeks later nothing much had changed in the state of Y/N and Spencer’s romance. She was still unheard of in the eyes of the BAU and two nights prior Spencer had stopped her from calling her mother to tell her about him.
And then Y/N discovered her sick, uneasy, all over body feeling was not just her incredible intuition.
She was pregnant.
She had taken a couple of tests a while prior and could just now get into the doctor to get it confirmed. But it was official. She was pregnant.
As soon as the nurse confirmed it she broke down crying. And when she asked her a couple more questions, she broke down even further. “Are you currently in a relationship?”
“No,” she sniffed.
“Do you know who the father is?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed.
“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want to go from here, but there’s a lot more options that you may think. Everything will be okay.”
Y/N still cried the whole way home.
She spent the rest of the day thinking about how to tell Spencer, and then overthinking what he would say.
She knew Spencer loved children, but he couldn’t even manage to tell people she existed, how was he going to explain a long term relationship and a baby?
It would have taken decades for Y/N to prepare to deliver this news, but Spencer showed up at 8:19 pm.
“Hi flower! How are you today?”
“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out, she was not planning to do it exactly like that, but she panicked.
“What?”
“I’m pregnant Spencer.”
He sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair, “You could get an abortion?”
Y/N lost it. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me Spencer?”
“I don’t think a baby is going to be very easy to keep a secret Y/N.”
“Is this how far you’re willing to go Spencer? You want to keep me hidden so bad that you want me to get an abortion? Are you insane?”
“You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry, we’ll figure something out.”
“No, you’re wrong there Spencer. I’ll figure something out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I love you but, please just get out of my apartment.”
“Y/N please don’t do this, I love you, we can make this work. I know I haven’t been doing the best job for these three weeks, but just give me a little time and I promise we can do this.”
Y/N wiped tears from her eyes, then reached her thumb up to Spencer’s face, wiping his cheek. “Spencer, it’s not a matter of how much I love you or you love me. Sometimes, things just aren’t made to work out. We gave it a good run, but no matter how hard we love each other, I don’t think either of us is happy.”
“But I don’t know how to live in a world without you in it, flower.”
“I’ve never been in your world Spencer, after tonight, nothing in your life will drastically change. You don’t have to worry about living in a universe without me because you’ve already been doing that for 15 months.”
“Please don’t do this, can we just give it another try?”
Y/N wrapped her arms around him, “That’s all we’ve been doing.”
The couple stayed in silence like that for a couple of minutes before Spencer spoke. “Can we just stay here for one night. I can’t believe I never got to do it.” Spencer had never spent the full night at Y/N’s place because he always worried that he would forget to answer his phone and the team would try to come to his apartment to tell him they had a case.
“You know we can’t do that Spencer,” she sighed, knowing she had to stay strong and act on her own best interest, but she also loved Spencer. “But you can stay here, if you want.”
He thought for a moment. “Okay, um do I need that key you always offered me? To lock up when I leave?”
“No, the front door locks automatically when you close it, you just have to make sure you have everything before you go.”
And so Spencer slept in Y/N’s bed, for the first time, without her in it.
And Y/N called the one person she knew Spencer would never try to track her down to to avoid exposing himself.
Penelope Garcia.
She of course let Y/N stay with her for the night, and although she would eventually, Garcia did not pry when Y/N said she didn’t want to talk about what was going on. So Y/N walked to her apartment with peace of mind, she knew that although she had a lot to think about, for the time being everything was going to be just fine.
On the way to Penelope’s apartment, Y/N saw a flower vendor. She couldn’t help but stop by and pick up a bouquet for Penelope, but more so for the symbolic meaning.
Daffodils and daisies.
The flowers of new beginnings.
“I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again”
- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))
holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#Criminal Minds Spencer Reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#reid#Criminal Minds Reid#reid fanfic#reid fanfiction#reid x reader#spencerreidxreader#reidxreader#reid x you#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#reid x y/n#Criminal Minds#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid taylor swift#spencer reid one shot#reid one shot#criminal minds oneshot#reid angst#spencer reid unhappy angst
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Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️
So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;
P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰
41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)
.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.
She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.
She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.
So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.
She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.
Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’
He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.
Eventually.
“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”
Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.
“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.
“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”
“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”
She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.
For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.
She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.
Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.
And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.
“Ran? She’s pretty special.”
Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.
“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.
“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.
“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”
“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.
“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”
“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.
Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.
“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.
“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”
“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”
“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”
“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”
“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”
Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.
In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.
.
.
Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.
The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Nah, just swamped with work.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to assist?”
“No.”
Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.
“Ran, hey. Look at me.”
His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.
When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.
“You’re… stressed.”
“No, I’m… Eh?”
He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”
Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.
“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”
“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”
Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”
“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”
He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”
Her heart throbs for him. So much.
She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.
After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.
With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.
Just for that night, she gives it to herself.
She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.
.
.
Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.
The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.
“I love you.”
Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.
“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”
The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.
Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.
“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”
“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.
“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”
Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.
“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”
“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”
“Just you two?”
“Yeah.”
A beat. Then he turns to her.
“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”
“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”
“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”
“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”
“Ah.”
Silence.
“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.
“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”
“Mm.”
He doesn’t say anything else after that.
“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.
“Yeah...and?”
Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.
“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”
Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.
“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.
Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.
Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.
Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.
.
.
Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.
Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.
Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.
“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”
“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”
“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”
“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.
“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”
“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”
Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”
“In Akita.”
Her pupils constrict. “That far?”
“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”
Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—
“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.
Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”
Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.
“Ran, hey.”
She doesn’t stop walking.
“Ran.”
She ignores his call.
“Ran… you’re jealous.”
She stops walking.
“Excuse me?”
“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.
A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.
For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”
Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.
It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...
It stings, is her immediate reaction.
For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.
Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.
“Ran…?”
“I am not, and you’re a fool.”
In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.
If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.
After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.
“Stop... running... will you!”
She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.
“Let me go!”
“Why are you running?!”
“I can’t...deal with you!”
“Why? Was I right?”
“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”
“Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because I am your best friend!”
On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.
“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.
“What are you— Let me go!”
He hugs her tighter.
“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”
“I am happy!”
Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.
Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”
“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”
“What? No! I—”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”
“That’s not...You don’t underst—”
“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”
“Stop saying that, Ran!”
She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.
All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.
An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.
“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”
She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.
They look like a scene in a movie.
Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.
She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.
Best friend.
This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.
She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”
She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.
“Ran!”
He shouts her name. Twice.
On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.
She doesn’t.
.
.
Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.
It’s the start of winter break.
He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.
She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.
She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.
“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”
“Shinichi.”
His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”
Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.
“May I come in?”
“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”
“I’ll help you.”
“...”
She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.
Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.
On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.
She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.
What has he been thinking of for the past week?
Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?
Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?
The kiss... What about the kiss?
So many questions. So little words. So little time.
Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.
A ringing phone cuts the silence.
“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”
If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.
That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.
“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.
Ran’s eyes fly wide.
“How did you…”
He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.
Again with the throat-drying silence.
Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.
“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”
Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”
He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”
Unable to talk and move, she does.
“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”
He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.
“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”
She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.
“Ran.”
“Mm.”
“I love you.”
Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.
“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”
All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.
“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.
“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.
“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”
Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.
“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”
Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.
“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”
He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.
“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.
“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”
Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.
In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.
She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.
Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.
“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”
Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.
“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”
“I’m...I’m not dense.”
“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.
“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”
“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“You did though. Now we’re here.”
“Would you rather we aren’t?”
“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”
“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”
“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”
Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.
“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”
“Eh?”
“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”
“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”
“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”
Ran falls quiet.
“Geez…”
He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.
“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”
She darts her head sideways, realizing something.
“Were you also…?”
“No.”
Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.
“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”
“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.
“Shinichi.”
“Yes.”
“I love you too.”
The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.
“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.
Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.
“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.
“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.
“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”
Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.
It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—
“Face me, Ran.”
The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.
She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.
Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.
“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”
A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.
“From best friend to... such a shift-”
“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”
She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.
“What about when we fight?” she asks.
“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”
“...Like right now?”
“Like right now.”
A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.
.
.
Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.
Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.
Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.
She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.
“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”
“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”
“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.
“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”
“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.
“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”
“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”
“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.
From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.
“Why?” He asks in a low voice.
“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”
“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.
Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.
But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”
The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.
She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry, and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.
“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.
“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”
“Idiot, many people saw...”
“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”
Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.
“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”
“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”
So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.
“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”
The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”
“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.
Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.
.
.
.
#shinran#kiss prompts#fanfic#lmk anon(s) if you see this and if you do then yaaay#thank you for requesting!#and thank you for reading!#:')#I have a love-hate relationship with this fic#it's only supposed to be 4 scenes#oh well it is what it is lmao#it's ok ig since this is the last (awww) from the kiss prompts!#😌#I tried so hard with a jealous Ran haha#jealous fics are good reads but writing them is hard :O
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Summary: This is a continuation of the movie Before We Go and my interpretation and imagination of an A/U. Brooke is you (Y/N) and Nick is still Nick :)
Prompt: "Just admit that I'm right." for @the-ce-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles for Nick Vaughan.
Pairings: Nick Vaughan x Y/N
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: <2k...is this a drabble still? Oopsies XD
A/N: I watched this movie for the first time just last week. It's now one of my top 3 Cevans movies! While I'm all for a romantic, serendipitous, spontaneous trope...much like Before Sunrise *no spoilers*, the ending was great, but I wanted a different spin. No pressure...yah, right! Either way, hope you enjoy xx.
Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @tonystankschild @a-little-counter-esperanto
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You sniff and rub the end of your coat sleeve with your nose. Had to be the chill in the air, you thought. Not the fact that you just spent the most amazing and life changing night with a man you just met hours before and it was ending.
You stare out the train’s window; the gentle hum of the cart gliding across the steel tracks echoed in your thoughts. You shook your head in thinking that you made a mistake. I should have stayed...I should have told him how I felt…
“Nick. It's you again. Listen. I want to give you one more piece of advice. You're gonna be playing one night... Grand Central... thinking of every reason in the world to not go see the girl that broke your heart. Then, you're gonna meet somebody. And now, at first, she's gonna seem… icy. You're gonna know right away she's trouble. She's gonna take all your money. You're probably gonna get punched in the face. But stay with her; you're gonna need her a lot more than she needs you. And at the end of the night, you're gonna want to say some things, but don't. Don't ruin it. It's nothing she doesn't already know. Just give her a kiss. Wish her good luck. And thank her. Thank her for showing you that you can love more than one person in this life.”
He was unbelievably charming. You said so yourself. His raw talent with the trumpet was beautiful and different from what you were used to. The suburbia of the Boston bubble was what you were forced to live in now. You were from London, you were cultured and refined. Sure things with Michael were exciting at first, but the ho hum of the daily diatribe of routine became loathsome. Dépaysement. But you still never wavered in your marriage. Unlike Michael who had crossed that sacred line and lost your trust. It wasn't even fully the physical aspect that he went to another woman. It was the intimacy of telling her his deepest desires and then some that hurt the most. That he would want to share that with anyone else but you. But tonight. Tonight was what made you see clearly.
"It's possible, isn't it? It's possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else," you asked as you bit your lip.
"No, no, see, I think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else."
You found yourself blushing and cupping your cheek in thoughts of Nick. He was right. The whole night was a cluster mess of you trying to get home before Michael so you'd be able to throw away that wretched note. That he'd come to his senses and forget Linny. That he'd realized he was a fool and you'd start over. Just like old times.
However, slowly that feeling of reconciliation faded away little by little as each hour in the city passed. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but somehow the scrappy trumpet player Nick Vaughan etched his way into your icy heart and left an impression and stayed.
His fluffy, dark hair - so soft and inviting for you to rake your fingers through it was enough to drive you mad. His scruffy beard, which tickled when you kissed. You already loved ghosting your palms over it softly and imagined being able to do it whenever you wished. He said earlier into the night you weren't his type; you scoffed, but we're annoyed that it bothered you. You were a classic model of what guys were into, looks wise. Sure, your attitude was what rubbed some people the wrong way, but Americans really were too sensitive.
He however...he was the full package. Every toothy grin, wink, and full hearty laugh. He was addicting. He was a dead ringer for a heartthrob, but you also couldn't hate the guy for it. He was the friend you'd call to bail you out of jail at 4am and the boyfriend that you could see settling down with. It was nauseating really.
And then his lips. His soft lips...you can’t believe you kissed him in the hotel room. And then again at the train station. But you would have kicked yourself for not doing so in the first place. The way your fingers interlaced themselves on his terry cloth robe, how desperately you wanted to press your body against his. All you wanted was for him to feel that burning need within the apex between your thighs and extinguish it all night. But it was more than that, he was what you were missing. But you were kidding yourself. You weren’t running to Michael, you were running away from Nick.
But why? Because of the unknown? Because he actually knew who you were deep down inside? How could a man you barely knew, change you? Change what you thought was true, what you thought was love?
You dove your hand into your wool jacket’s pockets to push any thoughts of self-doubt, when you realize there was a piece of cardstock. You were puzzled to find it and immediately smiled in recognizing the hotel survey card. You bit your lip as you read down the survey questions one by one and notice Nick’s handwriting at the bottom, ‘turn over’ with an arrow.
Curious you turn over the hotel card and he’s written the word ‘yes’. Yes? You furrow your brow and contemplate further what he would be saying yes to. You think about the night - the time at the bar, helping him with Hannah, when you went to the psychic reading. Yes? What in the world - and then you turn the card back over and realize that on the second to last question it asked “Will you be likely to return?”
None of the boxes are checked, but he’d written ‘yes’ on the back. Yes. Yes he’ll return? Where? To the hotel? But when? You look up and rush to think about stopping the train dead in its tracks to return back to Grand Station. You breathe out heavily and come to terms that this isn’t a movie. He’s not chasing you down the tracks, jumping on the train to find you. Or is he? You wouldn’t put it past him. The whole night was filled with serendipitous concourses, this would be icing on the cake. You dart your head around to see if he’s in the cable car. It’s like in every rom com movie ending, the man of your dreams will be right there. He’s somehow charmed his way into boarding the train and found you waiting like a princess in her high tower. The train car is dark and bleak, only a few passengers are riding it as it’s the first route to Boston on a Sunday. You peer over to see if he’s in the next cart, but alas he is not. You slump in your seat and rub your thumb methodically over his words.
"Have you ever had a feeling that somebody was going to play a major part in your life?” you ask.
“Yeah."
“Do you know the most interesting thing about hotel art? It's what's on the back.”
It’s then you realize you have to return to New York. This story wasn’t about you and Michael anymore. No, it was about the man who selflessly helped you while you were in need, not only at your dire hour, but metaphorically as well. This was meant to be. You were meant to miss your train, break your phone, and meet the handsome man named Nick Vaughn. You knew he’d still be in the city because of his audition for the day with Duke at least, if you could just get to him somehow...
*
Your knees bounced as you sat on a cushioned chair in the hotel lobby. You had planned to wait there all day, but then realized the $13 train ticket was your only way of providing you security back home. So you went home. Confronted Michael. Cursed, cried, and then relief rushed over you as he had read your letter and how you knew about the affair. How you wanted to throw fists on his chest and tell him how much you hated him. But once you saw him, you found it didn't matter to you anymore. Someone else was worth fighting for. Your marriage was over. The hatred and spite you once had for your husband had dissipated. Your world didn't end like you thought it would. This wasn't your only chance at love. You were choosing to be happy, whether it was with Nick or not. This was the first time you were going to jump without having a net.
And Nick was wrong. Michael didn't want to work things out, he was coming to tell you that he loved you, but that and he'd be returning to Atlanta for good. The house, car, everything was yours: Nick said so himself, you gotta be okay with not being okay. So you walked away. You made the choice just like the psychic said and took it in stride, you faced the music.
However now you found yourself back in New York. Not the once stranded woman at a crossroads less than 24 hours before, but the woman that made a choice. You were worried that Nick would see it as you running away again. Running away because Michael didn't choose you. But in reality you didn't choose each other.
Still without an ID, you took your car and better against the four hour drive to the city and hoped a cop wouldn't pull you over. You thought of the night in the hotel. The laughs, the closeness you two encountered. The playful and cheeky way he could make you feel seen. You were starting to get nervous, what if he doesn't show up? What if I missed my chance?
"I'm an idiot," you murmur to yourself. "I can't believe I'm here."
You stand up and realize there Nick was there in your path. He looked a little worn, obviously from staying up all night. But he had changed and showered from the looks of it, and his signature trumpet case held in his hand.
"Well look who it is. The biggest loser in New York."
You laughed and blushed at the sight of him. He slung his trumpet case over his broad shoulder and walked over to close the gap.
“Just admit that I’m right.”
"Admit what?" You ask as you find yourself touching his jacket sleeve.
"Admit that you couldn't get enough of me." You hitched a breath from his words.
"You can say that."
"I can't believe you came back," he responded. His blue eyes gazed into yours as he brushed away a tendril of hair from your face.
"I read your answer to the survey...on the back."
"The stay did exceed my expectations and I did say I would return," he smiles.
"And here you are."
"Here I am…" he pulls away slightly as he's reminded that you're married.
"I jumped," you replied.
He's taken back by your statement and furrows his brow.
"What? With what?"
"I told Michael it was over."
"Wow. I'm so...sorry, Y/N."
"Don't be. You said so yourself, at some point it was time to face the music."
He nodded, absorbing the information.
"Say what's in your head."
He shook his head and grinned,"I'm just glad you came back is all."
"Yeah? How'd you know?"
"I didn't. Just sure as hell hoped you would."
He intertwines your fingers with his and holds tight. Like a missing puzzle piece found, your hand fits perfectly with his.
"Whaddya say we get out of here?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"I may know a place," he smiles devilishly and gives your knuckles a kiss.
You grab his dress shirt collar and turn him towards you. He runs his hands through your hair and places his lips upon yours, kissing you deeply. It's a kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after you part, neither open your eyes for a few moments afterwards and he embraces you tightly.
"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."
#drunk drabbles#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x female reader#nick vaughan#before we go#before we go spoilers#nick vaughn x reader#romance
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The Art Of Starting Over (Chapter 6)
Pairing: Saul Silva x reader, Andreas x reader
Summary: It's time to fight back.
Series Masterlist
Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi @alice-the-nerd
A/N This is very much a filler with some background info, but I promise the next chapter will have plenty of drama and angst. It will also be the final chapter ✨
"A pleasure to meet you. I've heard nothing about you." You roll your eyes at the spiteful comment hoping he won't keep this up for the entirety of your stay. Saul extends his hand, but you're quick to push it back down.
"Cormac isn't a fan of touching," you say never breaking eye contact with him. He's mulling over the entire situation in his head, and you have no idea which way he'll sway.
"Come in. I was just making some tea." You follow him inside taking a seat at the large wooden dining table. Nothing's changed in here, it's like stepping into the past. There's a wall with shelves filled with different herbs that you're already itching to check out. You've always loved nature and the many medical advantages it offers if you know what you're doing - plus Saul has that cut that could use a nice paste of herbs.
"How much of our history have you shared?" You hate the calm, sickly sweet version of Cormac because it means he's angry. He's angry you've brought a stranger into his home, and he's angry you're here in the first place. An apology would do his mood wonders but even after all this time, you don't feel like you were in the wrong back then.
"Only the beginning."
"And yet, the ending is much more interesting." Saul keeps quiet through all of this, and you're thankful he's so good at picking up the mood. He takes your hand under the table though to offer some silent support, and you give his hand a little squeeze to let him know you appreciate it.
"People needed our help. You didn't want to leave this house, I thought you were wrong." The village that had sent you to inspect the animals were overrun by pillagers and when you had told Cormac, he'd simply shrugged and continued whatever he was doing. You couldn't remember the exact details but bottom line, Cormac had refused to help innocent and defenceless people because he didn't want to risk giving away the location of his home, and while you'd called him every name in the book, he still refused to go. It was humanity at its worse, and Cormac Wren couldn't be bothered.
"I remember it a little more complicated than that." He puts down three mugs on the table filled to the brim with green herbal tea. You're not exactly surprised when he fishes out a flask and adds a little spice to his own.
"You told me if I left, I shouldn't ever come back. It wasn't all that complicated." You're struggling to see what he's trying to get at, but he doesn't let you wonder too long.
"I also once said I didn't like cocoa which is foolish. Everyone loves cocoa."
"I hate cocoa," Saul chips in lightening the mood. Even Cormac can't hide the little smile. It's clear that Cormac is trying to read Saul, but he seems pleased so far.
"What I meant is that things said in anger shouldn't be taken seriously. I never meant you couldn't return." And just like that, he's back to being your mentor. It's hard being back here and hold onto anger towards him, but you also know that you can't let yourself hope that he'll help this time. It'll only lead to disappointment, and you can't allow any sort of distractions.
"I'm sorry I left things the way I did." You're still clutching onto Saul's hand under the table loving the feeling of his touch. It's been days since you've had time for anything even remotely resembling intimacy, and you have a feeling it'll be a while before you'll have a moment to yourselves.
"Water under the bridge. What's the plan?"
"I'm not asking for your help. We needed a place to stay while we figured out our next move."
"I know you're not asking. I'm offering," Cormac says much to both Saul and your surprise. He may not look different, but he's definitely had a change of heart.
"We'll need support from the other realms. Maybe you can reach out to them?" Cormac nods waving his hand and immediately, a bird lands next to him. He whispers in its ear before sending it off.
"Done." It's a call to arms, and you can only hope they'll respond.
"We'll need a plan of attack as well. It's pointless to have help if we don't know what to do once we reach Alfea," Saul says. This is the part where all his training and experience as a soldier becomes relevant. You know he'll be able to come up with a plan better than any of you.
"Do you have something I can draw on?" he asks Cormac who's quick to provide. You're not entirely sure why he's decided to help, but you're not about to question his motives. You need him on your side.
"This is Alfea, and here's the barrier..." You get lost in Saul's explanations as he contemplates a plan of attack. He'll say one thing the first minute, and then he'll change his mind only seconds after. But he knows the school like no other, and he has an incentive to make the perfect plan.
"We'll need to reach out to Farah and Ben too," you say looking over at Cormac. You furrow your brows in confusion when he doesn't summon another messenger bird.
"Oh, I thought you knew."
"Knew what?" By the look on his face, you can tell it's something you don't want to know.
"Farah's dead."
#winx saul silva#saul silva imagine#saul silva blurb#saul silva x reader#saul silva#winx club#winx netflix#fate netflix#fate the winx saga#fate winx club#fate#ftws#fate winx
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226306/chapters/76373429
Love is love is love...
Snippets of Regulus, Narcissa, Sirius, and Andromeda's love life.
What does it take to make a love forbidden?
Someone you can’t have, usually. Whether that means they are already in a relationship, or family doesn’t approve. Well, for the children of House Black; it is the second option. Throughout history and many generations, they have matured faster than those around them. Each family member had someone to marry by the time they were born. Although, most of these children found love elsewhere and were forced to make a choice.
Alphard Black was the second known to run away from family rules because they had not accepted him for whom he loved. Cyfrin Black was the first; he discovered werewolves and fell in love with one, making a family and home with him.
Andromeda Black also ran away; the first female to do so, third Black to run from rules. It irritated Walburga Black to see her family going against the rules - especially so that it reminded her of her brother.
You would never know how terrifying Andromeda Violet Black can be until you meet her. They raised her on pure-blood rules, anger, and dark magic, following her two eldest sisters who dabbled in Death Eater ways. She could have a few tricks up her sleeve. Especially with two mischievous younger brothers.
She was a hat stall. The Sorting Hat had tried to put her into Hufflepuff but eventually landed on Slytherin for her. Andromeda stood from the stool tall and proud like her family taught. Upon sitting with her elder sisters who were in year three, Bellatrix leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“Four years with us, dear sister. I hope you follow us, ‘tis the only way to win over mother and father.”
Andromeda had then rolled her brown eyes. Surely at eleven there was not much you could do in a family of darkness except become the brighter, happier one? As Andromeda grew up, she rebelled against them. Instead of wearing black and green, she would wear earth tones; browns, greens, and oranges throwing in a bit of pink and blue here and there.
Andromeda, like her siblings, grew up lonely. Her mother; Druella Black, passed away when she was young. People said she passed during child-birth but she was there when her sisters were born. At three years of age, Andie watched her father mix a green sort of potion into her mother’s medicine. She wondered why he would even consider doing so. Later, she found out he did it so he could have power over her and her sisters - especially since he wasn’t gifted an heir (Walburga eventually took custody of them when she realized he was trying to get one from his daughters like they used to do in years past.)
At eleven years of age, Andromeda ran away to Alphard’s apartment. He hid her for three years until Walburga came pounding at his door; dragging Andromeda back home. At fifteen years of age, she noticed Edward Tonks (or Ted as he preferred). She would sneak off with him often, in hopes and fear to not get caught. Though at sixteen she had been and she ran away with him; burned off the tapestry, becoming a blood-traitor. She graduated at eighteen, married Edward, and had Nymphadora Tonks at twenty-three.
***
We all know they betrothed Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy, what you don’t know is that she was also interested in Severus Snape. She had flings with Lily Evans, dated a few girls in school; including Alice Fortescue. Like her elder sister Bellatrix, she kept her last name and slept in different rooms as her husband/fiance/boyfriend. It infuriated Lucius but he would respect her. (the only thing different was that she hyphenated it to Black-Malfoy)
Narcissa Druella Black was not a Death Eater like most believe, she did however have the Dark Mark that she was born with. It appeared on her left arm at eleven years of age. She kept it hidden behind long sleeves and arm sleeves. No one could tell which side she was on (in which she learned from Snape). She may have learned the ways of Death Eaters and Dark Arts from the time she could talk, but she may never have accepted that path completely.
Narcissa and her sisters did not have a good upbringing. Though being the youngest daughter, she had always been a powerful person mentally, physically, and magically which was an important thing to be when being a member of the House of Black or your partner spent most of his life in Azkaban.
Narcissa was the middle half of her sisters; black and white, never fully good but never fully bad either. She was a protector, a dreamer, a fighter. A mother, an aunt, and a lover. She not only raised her own son and daughters... but she raised Bellatrix's daughters, helped Andromeda with her daughter, helped/took in Remus, Sirius, James, Regulus, and Lily's kids when they passed.
She raised her son; Draco Malfoy, with great intentions and did her best to give him a better upbringing than she had. It was difficult to do so with Lucius Malfoy as a father. That is where Severus Snape stepped up and lent a hand to be a father figure for Draco. He protected him with all that he could. But was unfortunately too late in stopping him from inhibiting the Dark Mark like his parents. Lily Evans was a third parental figure with rights to him.
Narcissa screamed at Lucius the same words she had screamed at Bellatrix: “He’s just a boy!”
She may have come off as overprotective but she knew if Draco went down that path, he would never be the same little boy she had spun in circles in the ballroom late at night when he couldn’t sleep. She would stay up at all hours of the day just to see him happy.
It broke her heart when the smiles stopped. All she wanted was her baby to smile. Lily got him to smile sometimes, but it was never enough. It would never be enough for Narcissa.
Never enough love, hugs, attention, or money could ever repair Narcissa from the damage her family had caused on her and her son.
***
Sirius Orion Black. The family troublemaker, rule-breaker, and rebel. A lion in a pit of snakes. If anyone were to act like Alphard and drive Walburga even further up the wall - it would be her own son. She had never expected to see what it was like to raise Alphard all over again, but Sirius did just that. He had put up a fight since he was born.
At eleven years of age, Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and became the second blood-traitor. His father hated him from then on and would abuse him with the unforgivable curses. They told him he was no longer a suitable heir, and it fell to his youngest brother; Regulus Black. Though Sirius could see who Regulus truly was even if he was too afraid to find it within himself. Sirius understood that; their family was terrifying. Only in things for money, power, and keeping the name of Black pure. Though incest was the farthest thing from pure.
Sirius also noted at eleven years of age that he was a few steps ahead of his dorm-mates in puberty and interests. Within two months of him being at Hogwarts, he had kissed a girl two years older than him and was already trying to figure out the two girls his family had chosen for him to marry when they were of age. Kissing and flirting with girls made him sick. Sirius soon realised that he wanted one of his best friends.
He realised his feelings were getting stronger when his friends came back after Summer Break in 93’ and Remus’ voice was deeper, his face was sharper, and he had grown a few inches. Sirius could never act right around him anymore. He noticed little things about Remus he hadn’t before, his quirks became cute, changing in front of him got awkward, and he got flustered seeing him fresh out of a shower. It was hard to tell what Remus was feeling since he was always blushing.
He was thirteen when he first kissed Remus. They were alone one day talking about crushes and things when Sirius looked into Remus’ amber eyes and whispered; “You.” Remus was blushing hard and smiling randomly the rest of the day but either of them would deny it whenever Peter or James asked what was going on.
Sirius was sixteen when he ran away to the Potters because his parents found out he was gay and dating a half-blood. He couldn’t even fathom what they would do if they found out that his boyfriend was a werewolf. He would occasionally go back home just because of Regulus.
He would never forget what his father uttered to him just before he grabbed Regulus’ hand and ran with him out of their father’s office before anything worse could happen. ‘You disobeyed the rules! You are to keep the line pure, marry a woman and raise perfect heirs!’ It would never happen. And he even said it out loud; ‘That would be very unlikely.’ He closed his eyes to take a deep breath when he remembered what had happened next.
His world flipped upside down a few times; being betrayed by one of his best friends, living through a war, finding out he was pregnant at seventeen, and marrying the love of his life at nineteen. Although, when he had held his little girl (Omega metamorphagus/trans Veela) he thought everything would be alright.
Until it wasn’t and the Aurors threw him into Azkaban at twenty-two. He lost his family, his husband, his son and daughter, his friends, his lovers, and his brothers. (Remus rescued him two years later.)
***
Regulus Arcturus Black. Although the youngest and perfect in everyone’s eyes, has some pretty well-hidden secrets of his own. Like how he would dance with girls just to spite his family but then he would get his brother to signal for him if he ended up getting thrown towards a girl his family wanted him to marry and walk away.
Regulus Black...
The biggest rule follower. Followed in his family’s footsteps even if he had not agreed with everything they were saying. Did all he could to get on his parents’ good side. As he grew up, he realised there was no good side. It was either “follow us to death” or “run as far as you can and make a life of your own in hiding to gain safety”.
His parents were wrong when they said to him and Sirius that all they had in common was black curly hair, chiseled faces, and grey eyes. They were similar in brave stupidity, chivalry, and honesty. Regulus may have been sorted into Slytherin but there was no doubt he had a heart of a lion, making him a lion in a snake’s den whereas his brother was a snake in a lion’s den. Sure Sirius was a Gryffindor, and that is where he belonged, but there was no escaping the teachings and rules of their family.
You could change yourself, think differently, and behave differently but you were still going to be holding on to knowledge of Dark Arts and how to protect yourself even if it meant death. Sure other people would fight to death, but some would stop before someone got hurt.
Not his family. If it wasn’t what they wanted; they would never listen and never stop until the last breath was taken. Even once you get away from them and years later become unrecognisable to them, there are going to be moments where you have a thought or two on what they did, who they were, how you were raised, and questioning the lies even after finding truth.
Another thing they were similar in?
Being gay.
Sirius’ friend was right. You are born the way you are. You can’t help who you love.
And Regulus couldn’t help but love James.
It shattered him to break up with him when he became caught in the turmoil of Voldemort.
Once Regulus went running back to James - even though he was married to Lily - he took him back into his arms and they welcomed him into a home where there was nothing but love.
Regulus thought he could not love two people; that it was wrong. Even with seeing Narcissa and Sirius doing so.
They showed him he could, and it was alright.
They protected him, helped him, and rescued him.
Unfortunately he still died at eighteen leaving behind his husband, two daughters, a son, and another unborn son. (Or did he?)
***
So what makes love forbidden?
Nothing.
Love is love is love.
#marauders era#sirius azkaban#regulus black#sirius black#andromeda black#bellatrix black#narcissa black#severus snape#james potter#lucius malfoy#lily evans#jegulily#james x lily#drarry#wolfstar#narlily#regulus black lives
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PLS PLS LIST THE SWAPS!! TELL ME ABOUT THE SIBLINGS AND ALSO HIFUMI BECAUSE I LOVE HIM (IF YOU WANT!) I will also send more questions in the morning too, excited to see what you’ve been working on!!
OK OK OK !!!!! AHH! So, before assigning talents, I swapped the pools, so for the first game, I use the talents from the second game, and vis versa! For some i listed gender, sexuality, or neurodivergencies, though this isn’t all of them, and I haven’t developed them all to the same level!
This is SO long. I didn’t even bother mentioning things like my plans for the killing games. (I have DR1 planned out in full, but only parts of DR2 and the v3 anime)
THANK YOU FOR THE ASK MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT IN HAPPINESS WHEN I SAW I HAD NEW ASK NOTIFS!!
LIST:
Trigger Happy Havoc (first game)
Kyoko Kirigiri- Ultimate Luckster- Mastermind (: Sometimes lesbians can be evil okay! was trained as a detective like everyone in her family and didn’t get the ultimate :) she’s definitely not mad about that :) her luck cycle depends on how far she plans things ahead. her good luck is when she’s spontaneous! She hates when ‘normal’ people are accepted by ultimates.
Makoto Naegi- Photographer (Mostly wildlife and nature photography, with Sayaka helping him for some animal photography (: trans and bi <3 One of sayaka’s birds nests in his hair like all the time)
Kiyotaka Ishimaru- Ultimate Swordsman (AUTISTIC ICON, has trained in kendo since he was a kid, then was essentially given away to the Fujisaki clan by his very stressed dad. Semiverbal, rarely speaks.)
Chihiro Fujisaki- Ultimate Yakuza (Taka is her bodyguard! His family is in debt to hers, the Fujisaki clan is the most powerful in Japan. trans icon, of course, dates Sayaka! Very direct, though she’s far more delicate and polite when talking to taka, her best friend)
Sakura Oogami- Ultimate Nurse (Works as an EMT- her clan still is in martial arts, so she’s still very buff, she assists in injuries at the family dojo. Autistic Icon)
Asahina Aoi- Ultimate Gamer (ULTIMATE ADHD. streams and has a ton of fun, will ramble while breaking records, demigirl who loves her girlfriend sakura :)
Mukuro Ikusaba- Ultimate Chef (Works best with ‘cheap’ food, and making them taste good. a byproduct of growing up on the streets with junko, and junko being bored of the same old food they dug out of the trash. now works closely with junko for her teams’ nutritional needs! autistic and sapphic.)
Junko Enoshima- Ultimate Team Manager (there are SO many sports she can never get bored, and the professional scene is always changing! prefers coaching womens’ teams, because being an ultimate brings them more publicity and usually higher pay :)
Mondo Oowada- Ultimate Prince (OH MY BOY. trans adhd icon. now the crown prince of Novoselic, with a reagent in his place until he comes of age. His service dog Chuck is a maltese and an absolute sweetheart. Chihiro takes him under her wing to teach leadership. also dates taka later OF COURSE, though they’re poly and I may add more ppl to their relationship later.)
Celestia Ludenburg- Ultimate Musician (specializes in violin, most strings, though she can play any instrument. grew up poor, dedicated herself to an instrument and persona to cope)
Byakuya Togami- Ultimate Musician (Yep. two musicians. two catty trans gay icons about to throw down. they HATE each other and grew up as rivals. specialize in classical, they literally tore a professional orchestra full of grown adults apart trying to make them side with who was the best musician. they’re so good that they’re matched, and Hope’s Peak accepts them as one student and combined ultimate. they room together. they fight. Literally if one of them gets expelled, the other does too, so they’re STUCK. eventually they become literally inseparable and insufferable together like the WORST siblings. I love them.)
Sayaka Maizono- Breeder (animal handler) (Specializes in birds!!!!!! has songbirds on her shoulders all the time. will give unsettling animal facts without realizing they’re unsettling. sends her songbirds to serenade chihiro when they start dating <3)
Yasuhiro Hagakure- Gymnast (you see this tall goof who acts like an older brother to everyone and wonder HOW he’s a gymnast. he’s completely different in competitions, though still lighthearted. becomes a big brother figure to mukuro and junko especially <3 also trans bc i say so.)
Leon Kuwata- Traditional Dancer (he just. kinda hates it. it takes SO much work and effort but he takes to it naturally. his cousin kanon is NOT like in canon, instead she’s helpful. he’d literally rather be doing anything else. doesn’t know how to do anything like... basic either. can’t cook. cant do his own laundry. everything was dedicated to traditional japanese dancing before he attended HPA.)
Toko Fukawa- Engineer (writes schematics and is very good at it. gets VERY upset when her plans go wrong. her notes are orderly and perfect. host for their system!)
Syo- Mechanic (a factive of genocider syo, NOT an actual killer. she’s a protector mainly, and also is more adept at hands on skills when it comes to fixing things, her hands are less shaky. Her notes are a disaster and she does it to spite Toko.)
Hifumi Yamada- (???) (reserve course) Protagonist! My BOY. HIFUMI IS GOOD OKAY. He’s autistic and loves anime and gaming! he’s not particularly ultimate-leveled at them, or anything else! Attending Hope’s Peak as a reserve course student! At one point he joins the student council as a reserve course representative even if he’s only a freshman :) He’s also a moderator in Hina’s livestream chat, under the username of JusticeHammer, fastest ban hammer this side of the internet. He's internet friends with hina and sakura, and doesn’t realize Oh We Go To the same SCHOOL until he bumps into them. and realizes hina doesnt know what he looks like. but sakura does. its hilarious. he’s aroace, and during the year they’re locked in HPA, is in a queer platonic partnership with Hina and Sakura, while they’re dating each other. it’s great.)
Goodbye Despair! (second game)
Peko Pekoyama- Lucky student (ohohoh. her luck relies on her conviction. if she has doubts her bad luck strikes HARD. trans!, was taken in by Fuyuhiko’s family when she was a baby, grew up as just another kid in the family. They all expected Fuyu to go off to HPA on his own and then BOOM acceptance letter)
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu- Programmer (He. gets so angry while coding. He has an array of rubber ducks to talk to and work through his coding issues with. trans of course. Very protective of Peko when people say she doesn’t have a ‘real’ ultimate. ADHD and Autistic)
Sonia Nevermind- Writer (Literary Girl) (Her family immigrated to Japan when she was young! She writes a lot of serial killer novels, murder mysteries and horror and all that! Trans and bi :)
Gundham Tanaka- Detective (YEAH my guy is a detective. still talks Like That. Trans and bi and he and Sonia were kinda-dating (t4t autistic power couple in the making) when things started happening. He spends some time with his cool older sister who he looks up to a LOT. He and Sonia talk through things together a lot, they both have those red string walls, one for murder cases, another for a fictional plot lmao.)
Mahiru Koizumi- Moral Compass (my GIRL. autistic. Her morals rely a lot on people taking responsibility and being reliable, and she ends up having to work through some biases she didn’t realize she had when she arrived at HPA. Is still protective of Hiyoko, though that protectiveness is spread a bit thinner to extend to the rest of the class.)
Hiyoko Saionji- Clairvoyant!!! (HI YES I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR DAYS. Has actual visions in dreams and when she suddenly faints, but doesn’t really realize they’re uhh Real Visions for a WHILE. uses her status as an ultimate clairvoyant to trick and bully kids when in school for a LONG time, though her homelife wasn’t great with her grandmother trying to find ways to make her visions more consistent. SHES ALSO 12 WHEN SHE JOINS THE 77TH CLASS. she’s just so advanced in academics and her ultimate is so interesting hope’s peak cant HELP but scout her early. she has SO many issues guys no one appreciates hiyoko enough, autistic gifted kid hiyoko my beloved.)
Akane Owari- Gambler (started gambling to help out her family and Got Good at it. is very very conscious of money and food like all the time. Runs the hope’s peak betting pools once she arrives. these ultimates bet on a lot of things. she ALWAYS wins. until she doesnt!!!)
Mikan Tsumiki- Martial Artist (ohhhh Mikan. Still anxious and clumsy (though not like THAT in canon) and literally no one looks at her and thinks Oh The ULTIMATE martial artist?? it isn’t until you see her in the ring that you understand. She started learning self defense as a kid because her (bad) parents essentially said she had to rely on and protect herself and no one else would help.)
Kazuichi Souda- Pop Idol (OH TRANS ICON? he’s nervous and paranoid about Everything still, though now it’s like. oh the entire world is always watching my every move this is Okay (: has the brightest neon album eras. he literally keeps up a like. weird chad persona when interacting with people because he’s masking how hard he’s constantly just internally screaming.)
Nagito Komaeda- Soldier (AHAHAH my mans got issues problems disorder he’s a messssss, this trans guy, this absolute gay. this boy leveled a city of thousands of people with his own hands and some bombs. Still has medical issues, but most of his like. treatments and medicine is hold hostage as long as he stays in line. believes the ends justify the means and anyone who dies to him is obviously weak, because look at him! he’s weak, but that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t have to be the strongest, he just has to be stronger than the weakest scum.)
Chiaki Nanami- Heir (OOF. Agender, uses any pronouns. Doesn’t really. enjoy being the heir. grew up with Byakuya in the same circles. she treats the economy and stock market and stuff like games. enjoys gaming but isn’t good at them. collects so many things. has halls full of collections. Her parents stopped controlling her once she was able to prove she had more money than them and could literally bankrupt them if she wanted.)
Hajime Hinata- Baseball Star (Chiaki’s best friend, his family was upper middle class until he hit it BIG as a baseball star. wants to do BIG things and wants to attend hope’s peak more than anything!! Doesn’t really think of baseball as his THING, just a means to an end! trans :)
Teruteru Hanamura- Biker Gang Leader (started with shaking down some jerks who didn’t pay their food and drink tabs at his mama’s restaurant. now he RUNS their tiny town. His siblings are essentially gang mascots, he works hard to keep them out of trouble (while bringing them to like. meetings where he ends up beating a dude almost to death. its fine). most of what he does it to get more money to keep the restaurant afloat and care for his mama with her health conditions.)
Nekomaru Nidai- Fashionista (the drama. the CHAOS. most people are like ohhh we can never understand this artistic genius when he’s literally just. vibing and has ADHD and a love for coffee. Works a lot on accessible clothing lines for disabled people! Also he and Kazuichi work together sometimes, Nekomaru is good at calming Kaz down and seeing like, the root of whatever problem and making it better. ALSO A TRANS ICON and just flaunts it.)
Imposter- In the hope’s peak days they are impersonating Ryota Mitarai, as a part of the 77th class. In the Killing Game they impersonate Mondo Oowada as the Ultimate Prince. They’re doin’ their best.
Ibuki Mioda- (???) (Izuru Kamakura) Protagonist! Gundham Tanaka’s older sister (though they’re in the same school year). Nonbinary and using just. an array of pronouns alongside she/her, and jokingly fights with gundham for neopronouns like MOM said it’s MY TURN on the rawrself pronouns. She attends the reserve course to stay at her brother’s side. She dresses loudly and acts even louder because !!! she wants to stand out!! in the middle of this drab reserve course hell!! but when things go down, she wants to be someone, to be worthy of being her amazing brother’s big sister. so she accepts some offers.
NON-KILLING GAME:
Ryota Mitarai- Ultimate Analyst (stays in his room. He’s terrified of the outside world but fascinated by it. watches hope’s peak academy through security feeds, picking up on little details. he just wants to understand things but never looks at the big picture.)
Chisa Yukizome- Ultimate Boxer (Homeroom teacher!! She’s working really hard and believes in everyone! Some are intimidated by talent, but she’s never hurt anyone outside of the ring! Dating Kyosuke)
Juzo Sakakura- Ultimate Student Council President (Has anger issues, though his work at reigning them in assisted in becoming an Ultimate. Was responsible for security and the Hope’s Peak student council. Dating Kyosuke)
Kyosuke Munakata- Ultimate Housekeeper (Meticulous, works himself to the BONE even if he’s good enough to not have to do that. Is working on establishing another Hope’s Peak! Dating Chisa and Jozu!!!)
Seiko Kimura- Ultimate Blacksmith (GIVE MY GIRL KNIVES!! She’s an anxious gal, always wearing a facemask that filters the air in her forge because she has some respiratory problems. she prefers making more decorative pieces like an artist, but sometimes can create utilitarian pieces or tools to fit specific needs. Still a doormat)
Ruruka Ando- Ultimate Pharmacist (She constantly asks Seiko for new tools for her developments in medicine, saying its all for the advancement of humanity, so Seiko denying any request is SELFISH, though she never thinks to make anything for seiko’s health issues. Dating Izayoi. Specializes in medicine for mental health. Not Doing Great :)
Sonosuke Izayoi- Ultimate Confectioner (He loves sweets. LOVES them. Creates things that look plain, ordinary. but taste so GOOD you CRY and maybe ascend for a little bit. sometimes Ando makes cool new drugs to put in the sweets, who knows! It’s a mystery! He always has like. a huge refrigerated case of fresh cakes, and constantly has a lollipop in his own specialty recipe in his mouth.)
#ask#former-champion#danganronpa#danganronpa trigger happy havoc#super danganronpa 2#I could tag every character but consider this: ITS 3 AM IT TOOK ME OVER AN HOUR TO WRITE THIS#not wizzy#dangan ronpa
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Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.
Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.
Well this sucks.
He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.
Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.
Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?
While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.
read on ao3
fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!
“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.
By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.
Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”
“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”
Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.
“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.
Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”
“Neither have I.”
Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”
The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.
“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.
“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”
“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”
Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”
“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.
Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.
See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.
“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.
Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.
“I’m not your sensei.”
“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”
“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”
“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ - sen-sei.”
Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.
“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”
This is it, Sero told himself. Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.
Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.
There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.
Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.
The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.
But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.
“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”
“Guess they’ll die, then.”
Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”
Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”
Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”
“Well - ”
“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”
“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.
Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.
Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”
“Oh.”
Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.
Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.
Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did no one turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on and the AC miraculously began working again?
Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like some people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).
13) Convert 2x−5x 3 =1+xy into polar coordinates.
Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.
Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away. Got’em.
“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”
“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.
Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”
Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”
“Yeah, wonder why.”
Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).
Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.
Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.
He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”
“Most people.”
Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”
Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”
Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like he’s special…fuck.
“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ” nearly sitting in my fucking lap, “ - sharing personal space.”
“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”
“I’m a lot more distracted now.”
A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy? But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a personal rejection from the great hero Shouto.
“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”
And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.
Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.
The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -
“Hanta.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”
And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.
Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?
As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.
Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.
#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha fanfiction#bnha fic#seroroki#sero hanta#todoroki shouto#my writing
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Looks like it's September again (already, somehow), so that means that it's Nintember again, which means I'll be writing again! Same dealio as last time, one story per five prompts, up to six writings total. (And I'll be putting most of each under a cut, because mobile users can't skip posts)
And for my first entry for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern 's wonderful little event, I shall once again be attempting to twist some modicum of continuity, characterization, and canon-compliance out of a world that clearly cares scarcely for all three.
The Great Act
~~ Art, Green, Dizzy, Fire, Strength ~~
It was the loud buzzing of his phone’s alarm clock that dragged him from his slumber. He awoke to find himself sprawled across the couch, which was in no way long enough for his lanky body and spindly legs. As he blearily reached out and slapped at the coffee table, hoping to find the rude device by pure luck, he also blearily reached out and slapped at his memories, trying to figure out what series of events had led him there. For a moment, they floated just out of reach, and then suddenly flooded back to him all at once.
Oh. Right. It’s all over.
Another sporting event had come and gone, and as usual, in spite of all the effort he put into training and practice, he had ultimately lost to the same people he always did. No matter the sport, no matter the plan, no matter the time, they always won. And why shouldn’t they? The heroes always win in the end, always securing victory against the villains.
And he was one of them: the purple-clad counterpart, mirror, and supposed rival to one of the land’s most revered figures. Meant to oppose, and meant to lose.
He was Waluigi.
The name still sounded absurd to him. He had no idea how two men whose names were ‘Mario’ and ‘Wario’ and who naturally served as near-perfect foils of each other, had managed to meet and form such a publicizable rivalry without any deliberate effort, but such was the case. However, the notion that the brother of one had his own doppelganger in the brother of the other (or cousin, they never did manage to keep that story straight), with the same dichotomies of name, body, and personality? That was simply and utterly ridiculous, far beyond even the realm of ‘too good to be true’. And yet, if anyone had caught on, they hadn’t made it known to him.
Lost in thought and routine, he realized he had reached and opened his wardrobe, where numerous sets of that purple hat, shirt, and overalls were staring him in the face. In a sickening sense, they were the centerpiece of a great work of art, the fabrication that was his entire public existence, the character that he and Wario had constructed so that he might further be the ‘evil counterpart’ to everyone’s favorite red-clothed fire-throwing hero. Mario was stout and a bit fat, Wario was stouter and fatter; Luigi was tall and a bit thin, so Waluigi was taller and thinner. Mario had an M as his emblem, Wario had an inverted M; Luigi had an L, so Waluigi had an inverted L. To any casual outside observer, it was perfect.
But unlike Mario and Wario, whose rivalry had been formed in their youth, Waluigi had never even met Luigi until Wario had made him his sporting partner. The most he had known of the legendary Mario Brothers was just that: they were legends, for the countless adventures and quests they went on. In truth, despite how much he played it up during each and every game, he bore no true grudge against the man he was supposed to hate; Wario had, for a time, convinced him that Luigi’s presence in the public eye was somehow detracting from his own, but he had long since realized that that wasn’t the case; in fact, it often seemed like Luigi himself was being snubbed by the public, with the vast majority of the glory placed upon Mario, no matter how much Luigi contributed.
And yet, despite his existence being little more than a convenient story, despite the stress that constantly acting like a jerk brought, and despite always losing at the games no matter what, none of it brought him any sadness: for all its ups and downs, he felt himself to be rather good at keeping up the act, and the sports were, at the end of the day, still fun.
So why do I still feel so… bad?
Routine and thought had once more brought Waluigi elsewhere, and he found himself once more on his couch, now dressed in his usual outfit, with some sort of drink in his hands, probably coffee or tea; he didn’t care to determine which at that moment. His eyes casually wandered around the room as he brought the mug to his lips.
Then, just as the liquid touched his tongue--apparently he had managed to make tea out of coffee beans--the answer came to him. All across the room’s walls and shelves was sporting equipment of every sort--tennis racquets, shin-guards, helmets, golf clubs, old kart wheels, giant dice blocks, a probably excessive number of deflated balls--and absolutely no other sort of decoration. He leaned forward to place the mug on the table, and in doing so noticed his gloved hands and violet sleeves. Who wore the outfit of a character that they supposedly were not, every single day? Apparently, him.
He didn’t do anything else. He had let the character that was Waluigi consume his life to the point that had no idea who he was outside of it. He had nothing that he did when sports weren’t involved. Wario didn’t dedicate all his time to his rivalry; he owned an entire video game company--an unstable and poorly-run one, certainly, but it was nevertheless another use of his time. Mario and Luigi had their own grand adventures, of course, which is also what Peach, the Yoshis, Bowser, and his horde of minions were all typically involved in.
They all had lives outside of the games, and what did he do during the interim times? He either tried to practice, on his own, in the few suitable locations that he could find when the world was arranged for adventure, in a vain attempt to not lose as bad when the next game came around, or he wallowed in his home, doing absolutely nothing of any import.
But what could he do? Waluigi was never anything beyond a fabricated counterpart to both Wario and Luigi, but he could not remember, even slightly, what or who he was before he embraced that role. That nearly all of his memories prior to his first meeting with his partner were lost to him, was, he shuddered to admit, rather unsettling. Not even his old name--if he even had had one, he could not recall anymore--would reveal itself to him, and it was not as though he could simply find out through some external means: he was never the best at record-keeping, and to really sell their act, he had had his name legally changed to “Waluigi” and all references to his previous identity erased.
He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind of thoughts. There was little sense in worrying and fretting over who he was in that moment--the chance of any sort of useful epiphany emerging from it was even slimmer than he was.
Ugh… better just try to distract myself…
The first suitable option to catch his eye was the TV remote lying on the table. He quickly grabbed it and flicked on the set, and was immediately assaulted by the cheery enunciation of the Lakitu news anchors on the aptly-named Lakitu News Channel. He recalled that that was the channel he had left the set on last night, after he had gotten quite fed up with the incessant and inane blathering about the events of that day’s final matches, and it took only about five seconds to figure out that they were still on that topic. Scowling, he began flipping through the various channels available, hoping to find something interesting enough to block out the melancholic thoughts that were biting at his mind, like a hundred tiny Muncher and Nipper Plants.
After a painfully long series of more newsrooms--all talking about the exact same thing, of course--and unappealing shows--Half of these are for children and other half would just make me feel even worse!--he stumbled across some sort of advice segment hosted by a Birdo (was it the Birdo? He couldn’t tell). With absolutely no better options, he resigned himself to sit back and listen halfheartedly to whatever trite tips she tried to provide; maybe they’d be amusing enough to at least give him a small chuckle.
“I hope you all enjoyed our lovely guest! Now, before we move on to the submissions from all you wonderful viewers, I’d like to reiterate some old, but tried and true, advice, which I hold very close to my heart.”
Oh, here we go…
“Something which you probably hear very often is to always be yourself, or to always be true to yourself…”
Feh, I can think of several people who definitely shouldn’t do that…
“But it may be that you don’t like who ‘yourself’ is, or perhaps you don’t know what self you even have to be true to…”
Hah! As if… uh…
“And to that end, I’d like to say that there is always room for change. There’s always a way to make something new of yourself, to alter the parts of you that you want to, to become a different, better person. ‘Yourself’ can be whoever you want it to be; never are you locked along one unending bleak path. Try new things! Experiment! Don’t let yourself be trapped in an endless cycle.
“Believe me when I say I have personal experience with this: I’ve done so many different things over a rather short period of time, trying to find what I wanted to do with myself, who I wanted to be. Even now, I’m still not entirely sure if this is my supposed ‘calling’…! But I never got anywhere by doing nothing: it was on me to break out of my shell and search for myself, and now it’s on you to do the same.
“You don’t have to begin drastically, with a flying leap of faith--I think we’ve all walked over enough cliffs by now to know that!--but, if this is the sort of mindset you find yourself in, why not try taking some small steps today? It could be as simple as wearing a new outfit, or talking to someone new, or partaking in a new pastime.”
Birdo continued to elaborate on her point, but Waluigi--or, whoever he was beneath that--had stopped listening. He wanted to make some snark about what she said; he wanted to rationalize how what she described couldn’t ever apply to him; but, he found that he couldn’t. He had attempted to follow similar advice long in the past, and failed, but something about the way she phrased it, managed to affect him more deeply than he had thought possible. It was as though her words had dug beneath his shields and layers and pierced something somewhere in his core; pulled a lever, turned a handle, flipped a switch.
A strange sensation washed over him, one he could only describe as a blazing fire--nay, an inferno--igniting within him. He had felt the touch of flame countless times over the years, but not even the innumerable rage-fueled volleys he had endured, all combined into a single force, could compare to what now burned in his soul.
He leapt up from the sofa and ran to his bathroom. Staring at him from within the mirror was a character, a costume, a facade. It was not who he was. He grabbed a towel, dampened it, and proceeded to scrub away the pink paint on his nose; Wario and Waluigi’s noses were defined by that bright rosy color, but his was not. He then tore open a cabinet and grabbed his bottle of mustache product; normally, it was used to create the signature angular mustache of Waluigi, but today, it would shape the hairs into something softer and curlier. Whether that was what he would ultimately like did not matter: he was experimenting! He was changing himself!
Though the man that stared back at him from the glass now bore a much different visage, it was still framed by the purple cap and shirt, yellow emblem, and dark indigo overalls. He tore them off, then opened his wardrobe once more and threw all the copies of that same outfit to the ground. Hidden behind them were old clothes that he hadn’t worn for many, many years. He grabbed the first garments he saw--a casual dress shirt and gaudy neon-yellow shorts. Did those go well together? It didn’t matter. Without hesitating, he put them on.
He quickly glanced in the mirror again: the ensemble was nearly complete, but just missing one last touch. He thought on it for a moment, then stricken with brilliance, hurried to his modest backyard, where the roses he performed with in the games grew. He plucked one from its bush and affixed it to his hair, then ran back to the mirror to observe himself one more time.
His mismatched get-up would likely garner many stares from others, though he wouldn’t mind them at all; if he had anything in common with Waluigi, it was that they both loved being the center of attention. Even still, that’s not what mattered. A whole new day lay before him, a whole new day to be someone new, someone different; to move on from the cycle he had been stuck in, to take a whole new step forward.
He returned to the sitting room and turned off the television, then went to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle, threw it open, and marched into the daylight, the daylight which felt far fresher and warmer than it had in a long time, though even it held no candle to the flame that continued to blaze within him.
Ready or not, world; here I come!!
#nintember#my writing#godss there were so many directions i thought about taking this#eventually had to just choose and commit to one#straight up wrote a great deal of a different take before scrapping it#writing is... a time
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aurora, aurora, aurora.
First and foremost: dear @alwaysreading I’m so sorry that it took me so long. My chaotic ass just won’t ever let me get things done quickly and that’s why I can’t have nice things (c).
(it’s like…. looooong and i’m hoping it’s gonna be interesting).
Aurora Aurora Aurora, the love of his life (and mine) and the baddest bitch in the house (she’s aries and entj, that alone says a lot).
let’s start with the question: yes, she knew about him marring someone else and about Aaron. i’m gonna be a lazy bitch here and copypaste part from my ff:
There was a mother-in-law, obsessed with public opinion, who liked to pry and snoop around (and the private detectives she hired, whom he fed to a school of large barracudas at the Gulf of Mexico). And there was the truth that still surfaced, no matter how careful he was. Untimely. Ugly. It left him with an empty house, a short note “please, return to your real family,” and an endless year of solitude.
And now my favorite part: HEADCANONS!
headcanon 1: they’ve met when they were teenagers. I know in mafi’s world people are very indifferent to children’s suffering (Anderson can beat the shit out of Adam in broad daylight almost on the school’s porch and no one would bate an eye; Juliette can go around covered in bruises and no teacher would ever question it), but I prefer a little bit more realistic approach. So when a mother forces fucking BLEACH down child’s throat I expect that that child would be taken away from her.
What i’m trying to say is that Rori and him were in the system (foster care, in the same family, but Aurora was there first; age 14 maybe 15; he probably changed a few different homes, and then he saw her and decided to stay). They started as friends (and that was probably the first real emotional bond he had). And they both were troublemakers. Anderson because he’s… Anderson (whispers; a sociopath and he hates school). And Aurora because she’s walking “I take no bullshit” sign. And sometimes, when people annoy her too much, she tends to break their noses (but her marks are still excellent). So both of them had detentions and suspensions in school, but unlike Anderson Aurora never had any REAL TROUBLES with the police. In their tandem she’s the smart one. And then (at the age of 18) they parted their ways for three years. He went in the army (because it was the easiest choice), she went to college (BA in art conservation in States). Then they’ve met again, started dating, she decided to get a master’s degree in Europe (Switzerland I’d say or Netherlands) and became a full-time art conservator (she’s very passionate about preserving cultural heritage, can you see the conflict here?) and around that time Anderson was introduced to the reestablishment concept.
here’s the thing, their relationships were always “long-distance thing” (long before he married Leila) and both of them were perfectly fine with this. There was no “i’m gonna die if you’re not near me 24/7” bullshit. There was no “I love you” 35 times a day and holding hands. They just… knew that they love each other and it was enough.
This is probably the reason why I love them together so much: they’re two very strong-willed, stubborn and completely independent people (in this house we hate codependent relationships). They have lives and dreams and goals outside each other (and that’s the reason why they never married in the first place: marriage is a relic of the past, that weird thing for other people).
(of course it backfired at her, badly, he betrayed her trust, he broke her heart; but, trust me, if someone told her that in order to have him only for herself she had to be near him all the time and had to give up her dreams for MA and Ph.D., Rori would say goodbye to him and never look back, no matter how painful it’d be. She loves him, she does, but she loves herself more.)
Headcanon 2: kids and independence. She won’t make sacrifices for him, but she would make them for her kids. And yes Adam is HER KID. AND HERS ONLY. And the same goes for James. I see how you can catch this “it was one-sided and she didn’t really had a choice” vibe from books. Her sneaking food in secret, him showing anger at the sign of Adam(???). I love @cyanidesouffle interpretation of this: that Cat loved him and hoped that sooner or later he’s gonna come to his senses. Lose the battle, win the war, as the saying go. But if we’re talking only about canon, i’m really not a fan of Anderson who can walk in and out and wreck havoc in HER HOME and implant his stupid ass rules, when he’s the one who’s at fault here. she’s not the one who married other man and had a child! He has no right to be angry at Adam, he has no right even look at him the wrong way. I don’t like how it’s implied that she either had no other option but to submit to his whims or she was too meek to stand up for herself and her son.
my favorite thing about my headcanon girl is that Aurora REALLY doesn’t need him. And she doesn’t even think about him as the father of her kids. The hardest part of it (first pregnancy, labor, first years of Adam’s life) he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there, because she didn’t want him to and because she didn’t need him to. He knows it and it makes him treasure her more (there won’t be any third chances for him, another fuck up like this and he’s out for good). It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows back then, and she wasn’t the kindest and loving with Adam (it’s inevitable when you impulsively decide to have a child to spite the man whom you plan to never see again) but she learned to be, little by little. Although she still was quite demanding of Adam (he literally learned the alphabet with her ‘history of art’ books).
Again: she loves Anderson, that’s why she allowed him to came back, but she loves her son more. So when they decide to start again she’s the one with all aces up her sleeve.
MY HOUSE. MY KIDS. MY RULES.
(if you don’t like it, then you can kindly fuck off. don’t want to act like a human being? shut the door on your way out. and so help me god if you lay even one finger on Adam)
There’s her love for him, there’s her love for her work, and then there’s her love for her kids. And she can sacrifice first two, but not the last.
Headcanon 3: it’s more of a AU part, but things would so different if she didn’t die. She won’t be a part of RE, obviously, she won’t marry him even if he’d ask her. BUT!
a) Leila would be alive. And well. Because Rori would find out the truth, as she always does, and then she would make him fix things. She would probably take Leila under her wind, as a form of punishment for Anderson (oh look I care about your ex-wife more than I care about you, she’s really cool, btw).
b) he won’t be a supreme commander. Actually becoming a supreme was his biggest mistake. Everything gone awry because of the routine. It was fun for a few month, but then the middle-age crisis came and everything went to hell. So Rori would definitely convince him to look at it not from the ‘AAAA MORE POWER EVEN MORE POWER, I’M UNTOUCHABLE!!!’ point, but from ‘i’m gonna need to take REAL responsibility for my actions, and they actually gonna have consequences’ point.
paris: wow, i really don’t like it. thank you, rori. where would I be without you?
rori: six feet under, darling, six feet under.
#shatter me#paris anderson#paris anderson meta#eff answers#aurora#otp: it was always her#oh headcanons my headcanons
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PJO Mortal AU (Solangelo-centric)
The Olympia Family
(AKA the family with so much chaos and drama, they would have made an even more popular reality TV show than Keeping Up with the Kardashians)
Thalia Grace - 24
An ambassador of the Artemis Foundation
Badass
Won't hesitate to throw hands at anyone who messes with her family.
Very protective of her little brother and cousins.
Not afraid to speak her mind and fight for what she thinks is right.
Has a kind of love-hate relationship with her stepmother Hera. While Thalia respects and acknowledges Hera as her stepmother, she is a free spirit, and hates being chained down by the old-fashioned rules Hera imposes.
Briefly dated Luke Castellan for 2 years, but broke up due to reasons. The break up was mutual and Luke still remains as one of Thalia's closest friends.
Deadly with a bow and arrow (she'd be hunting down hunters like they hunt animals for living if it weren't for the fact that murder is unfortunately illegal).
Jason Grace - 19
Sophomore at Uni (double majors in Management and Aerodynamic Engineering)
Flight school graduate
Heir to Jupiter Airlines (given that his father doesn't plan to retire anytime soon, Jason is considering becoming a pilot in the meantime)
Hera's favourite child since he actually follows her rules (He bends them slightly every now and then, but she doesn't need to know that).
Regular at the Manhattan Chess Club
Has an intense rivalry with his older cousin Percy that's been going on for like 10 years now... (his life goal is to beat Percy. They're currently at a stalemate of 3795 wins each.)
Very protective of Nico. He almost had an aneurysm when he heard that grumpy, little stay-away-or-I’ll-death-glare-you Nico had a boyfriend. A boyfriend.
Has a best friend Leo Valdez who is an engineer student with an eccentric personality and is a mischievous menace. His childhood friend, Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano, is an athlete in javelin-throwing and currently resides in her hometown in San Juan, Puerto Rico, but they still keep in touch.
Dating Piper McLean, the 19-year-old founder of the Beautifully Imperfect Foundation
Zeus Olympia
CEO of Jupiter Airlines
Drama Queen TM
Favours Thalia more despite Jason being his heir and enables most of her rebellious antics, much to Hera's chagrin.
Can be rather childish and petty ("It's been 43 years, and I've long since given up on expecting him to change," Hades deadpanned.)
As the youngest child of the Olympia family and with his father on Death's doorstep, Zeus was given a lot of free reign, hence his playboy tendencies. He eventually did settle down with Hera Junos, the single daughter of one of the oldest families in Greece. Hera was fond of children but was unable to sire her own due to medical issues, which led to Zeus getting a mistress (with Hera's begrudged consent), Beryl Grace, the daughter of Hera's family chef. Beryl has always had a rather strange personality and an unhealthy obsession with alcohol. A few years after giving birth to Thalia and Jason Grace respectively, her liver gave way and she died before they could find a solution.
Hera Olympia (formerly Junos)
Zeus' wife
The kids call her ‘Aunt Ra’
Jason is her favourite child because he actually listens to her
Coming from both a high-class and old family, Hera was raised to be a perfect lady (a lady should not wear pants or speak out of turn etc. etc.) and has a rather old-fashioned way of thinking, enforcing strict rules in her household.
She still loves Thalia, but because the way Thalia acts goes against everything Hera was taught, her relationship with her stepdaughter is a bit strained. Hera now mostly lets Thalia do her own thing, but every now and then might still be a bit controlling. She's trying, okay?
Bianca di Angelo - 19
Sophomore at Uni (majors in Journalism and English Literature)
Works part-time at the Artemis Foundation
Generally quiet and shy, but has a tendency to fuss over small details.
Very responsible and possibly the only one with a brain cell among the cousins. (Proteus and Triton don’t even live in the same continent half of the time; Kym doesn't give a damn; Thesi is too nice to reprimand them; Ro‘s too busy fawning over her fiancé; Hero is more likely to fan the flames than quell them; Thalia, Jason, Percy and Nico are always either competing against each other or breaking the Internet with their antics again; Hazel is pretty innocent but has a slight vindictive streak so caution must be exercised; and Tyson and Estelle are innocent beans of sunshine that must be protected).
She can be bold when she wants to be, as well as reckless.
Has her father's habit of gesturing with her hands while talking and when she is on edge.
Ace
Nico di Angelo - 17
High school Senior
Heir to Pluto Corp.
Resident Emo in the family (“I'm not emo!” “Your only-dark-clothing phase says otherwise.” “It's not a phase, Persephone!” “Like father, like son.”)
Stubborn AF
Can't deal with all his overprotective sisters and cousins
Currently pining over William Solace ("Shut up!")
Avid gamer, plays digital games, card games (his childhood and to-this-day favourite is Myth-o-magic, which is one of the reasons he approves of Hazel's boyfriend, Frank) and all games in general (he visits the arcade monthly to make sure he's still 1st place in every game there)
Has a tendency to hold grudges and gestures with his hands while talking or when on edge, a habit he shares with his father and older sister.
Plays the violin (Persephone had introduced him to it, and he'd taken a liking to it)
Hazel Olympia (formerly Levesque) - 14
High school Freshman
Aspiring artist (she’s won thirty different art competitions locally in the span of three years and placed silver last year in the Chelsea International Fine Art Competition under an anonymous name because she wanted to win by her own merit rather than rely on the Olympia name. Hades plans to surprise her by giving her own exhibition hall for her next birthday.)
Regular at the Manhattan Riding Club
Has a bit of a vindictive streak in her that was probably born out of spite due to her upbringing
Exudes a powerful aura of passive aggressiveness, but is also incredibly kind and magnanimous
Has the ability is summon, manipulate and detect precious minerals, as well as the ability to place curses on them. (This knowledge is confidential and hidden from the public)
Loves her family with all her heart, and literally no one is more protective of Nico than she is
She was the first but also last person to know about Nico's boyfriend (First because she goes to the same school and is not dense, thank you very much, but technically last because she was the last person that Nico officially told since Will is terrified of her for some reason, something about her being 'the FINAL BOSS'; this amuses Hazel to no end).
Has a very cute crush on Frank Zhang, a HS Junior who’s an archer and animal lover (it’s mutual, by the way).
Hades Olympia
CEO of Pluto Corp., one of the largest companies in the mining industry.
#DONE with life and all the people in it, particularly his crazy family
Functions solely on his children, Persephone and caffeine, usually caffeine because the other two are often the cause of his high blood pressure
Broods a lot (”I don’t brood.” “Yes, you do.”)
Deadpan 200% of the time and takes no shit
Loves all his children equally and definitely does not have a favourite (it’s Hazel, in case you’re wondering)
As the eldest son of the three brothers, Hades was betrothed and wed to his childhood best friend Persephone Terrafield by their fathers in an attempt at a business partnership (Spoiler Alert: It didn’t work out in end). Admittedly, Hades and Persephone did have a small infatuation with each other when they were younger, but it never grew into anything serious, and as they grew older he saw her as more of a sibling than a lover and vice versa. After the inevitable death of his father, Hades and Persephone divorced but literally nothing in their relationship changed since they’d never loved each other romantically in the first place. When Hades decided to court their mutual friend, Italian diplomat Maria di Angelo, Persephone supported both of them wholeheartedly. In the span of the seventeen years they were together, Maria gave Hades two beautiful children, Bianca and Nico. Unfortunately, Maria passed away after being on life support for two years in result of a plane crash when Nico was 6.
In the two years when Maria was hospitalized, Hades was so desperate to find his beloved a cure that he sought out a witch doctor that was rumoured to be in New Orleans. Marie Levesque, the aforementioned witch, was a greedy, manipulative person with a deluded and unstable mind, who drugged Hades and essentially raped him because she thought his spawn would have the perfect blood for experimenting magic on. She used magic to wipe his memory of the previous night’s events and handed him an ‘antidote’ that was actually just water dyed a milky white. After ten years, Marie finally revealed to Hades a 12-year-old Hazel, who looked miserable, was suffering from malnutrition, wounds, burns etc. and had a supernatural ability which Marie proudly said she had bestowed to her via dark magic. Hades was absolutely mortified, revolted and a bunch of other things. He filed a lawsuit against Marie, charging her for rape, child neglect, child abuse and human experimentation, as well as taking permanent custody over Hazel Levesque (now Hazel Olympia).
Persephone Terrafield
CEO of jewelry enterprise The Red Pomegranate which was a sub-branch of Pluto Corps. The enterprise has the highest production rate in the US.
Self-designated matchmaker for Hades (Hades always tells her she should focus on her own love life first, but he’s just an ungrateful brat)
Current life goal is to fulfill Maria di Angelo’s dying wish: help Hades find love again. (Mission status: still at Square 1 because Hades has some trust issues after the Levesque Incident)
The kids all call her ‘Aunt Seph’, but she loves the children as though they were her own
She and Hades often joke that they would totally still be married if they didn’t see each other as siblings and platonic soulmates and she hadn’t had her sexual awakening of being lesbian.
She lives with Hades and the children as she finds it too much of a hassle to move into her own place, not to mention lonely (with the kids at school and doing club activities, someone needs to make sure Hades gets exposure to the sun anyway).
Persephone is the daughter of an unnamed businessman and Demeter Terrafield, an agricultural revolutionist and healthy-cereal-obssessed woman.
Her mother and Hades have this sort of weird rivalry going on whenever Demeter visits; Demeter hates Hades because he hates healthy cereal, and apparently anyone who hates healthy cereal isn’t good enough to be hanging around her daughter, so she always replaces all his coffee with decaf and puts the healthiest cereal she can find on his bedside table every morning; in retaliation, Hades will deliberately eat the most sugary sweets he can find in front of her and locks her out of their personal greenhouse. (The glass walls are made of the strongest glass he could find and the door is locked by multiple manual and digital locks.)
Hestia Olympia
CEO of WarmHearth Interior Design Agency (WHIDA)
Everyone's favourite person, indefinitely
Has the infinite patience of a goddess
Gentle, kind, very wise, gives great advice
The kids call her ‘Aunt Tia’
Often fondly exasperated by her younger brothers' antics (because no, just because they’re grown men now does not mean they are going to stop their childhood feuds since despite their protests, they are all petty AF), but once she snaps, they all line up like toy soldiers and behave nicely.
Knits a lot. Most of her carpets, quilts, bags, scarves etc. are handmade.
She looks relatively innocent, but don't be fooled. There's a hidden arsonist in her that is always ready to come out when she's angry.
Hestia has a 'I'm not mad, just extremely disappointed and upset' Mom Look that has sent people bawling their eyes out and begging for her forgiveness with just one glance
She is the oldest of the Olympia siblings, but as a child had a frail and weak body. Kronos wanted to get rid of her since she was 'useless and couldn't be wed off', but Rhea, their mother, begged and pleaded Kronos to let her live. For some unknown reason, Kronos complied.
Her brothers are all very protective of her
YOU DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, MAKE HER ANGRY
#pjo au#mortal au#percy jackson#jason grace#thalia grace#hazel levesque#nico di angelo#big three gods#big three cousins#screwyoukronos#i love hestia#rich people#solangelo#frazel#jasper#past!thaluke#bianca di angelo lives#hoo#pjo#tumblr prompt#pjo headcanon#might make a fic about this#but you can take the idea if you want or use this as a base#I purposefully left out the Poseidon side of the family and you'll see why soon#I'm clearly biased towards Percy
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tg anime vs manga *sighs*
i have the power of hyperfixation and anime on my side! AAAAAAAA
Ok now that we’ve gotten the sins of re post out of the way we need to discuss this. And I just feel that this needs to be covered because I can’t ever get away from constant discourse on this, mostly fueled by manga readers who feel entitled to always think they’re superior for reading the manga, that the manga is the only real canon, that it’s more complex or better, I’m so fucking tired of it. I am also a manga reader, and I tend to get like that sometimes too with many series (for example no. 6 and the promised neverland.) I get it. It can be really annoying to see something butchered on screen to what the original is, changed or represented differently or given a different message or simplified. But just. Some people like the anime and it’s not a goddamn holy war for y’all to fight. It only makes anime fans not want to read the thing even more yknow cause manga readers are pretentious assholes, and I am aware of this as one of them.
(again ok i’d like to mention i know this fandom is basically dead but a certain p*nterest is always like 4 years behind on fandoms so i keep fucking running into Discourse that’s like, still current, whenever i want old random ass content) (and youtube, why do i look at youtube comments, because I personally enjoy being offended? yeah probably)
And that brings me to the point of this anime vs manga.
This is a lot harder to compare than a lot of other series, because there are just... so many more differences not just in the style and vibe but the story itself.
Disclaimer, I’ve never watched the anime for :re and i don’t intend to, because I honestly have no earthly clue how tf you can get from the highly diverged tokyo ghoul root A to re and make it make sense, and I don’t really want A ruined for me. So you can call me biased towards the manga in the case of re, i guess (which makes my eventual conclusion even more strong I’d say) Honestly I just see them as two completely different stories, the manga’s version connecting with re and A just like... ending there. So how we’re drawing the lines is basically tokyo ghoul A versus the manga and :re. God, I know this isn’t a fair fight because I already hate re so much, but I feel like the manga’s story is much more intertwined with :re than the anime’s is, so that’s what we’re going with.
oh god also another disclaimer this opinion is coming from the biggest fucking kanehide whore, you can disregard anything i say if you ship The Straights and/or do not care for my boi hide
To be honest, if I can take my own conclusions and liberties to the story, I like both versions, each have their pros and cons and kind of a conflicting message. They can’t really coexist. Usually I’d consume all versions and then create one consistent canon in my head for what I accept as the true events (for example my main owari no seraph, first season of the anime is canon but after that we only follow the manga since those can come together and make sense.) but it’s very hard to do that in tokyo ghoul, since I must confess... I really like root A. Like of course, it’s a lot different from the manga, but tbh I think it’s super valid. (unlike most Fans TM like this Fan TM who i’m sending this post to just to spite their singular Youtube Comment Section Discourse, yes I did write this post for you and many others like you) But the ideas that make up root A conflict a lot with the ones of the manga, so I just have to accept that they’re separate things and treat them as such.
Now to break it down so people can understand where I’m coming from I guess? God this is already so long here’s a read more
The Case for The Manga (including :re manga)
More Lore + Plot Shit: One of the main reasons that manga readers are pretentious little bitches is a valid reason, namely that, as is the case with most manga, there’s simply more to it than people can fit into an anime. (Although people need to understand that’s because,,, it’s simply a different medium, so it will have different pluses and minuses, such as for example a soundtrack, color, moving pictures,,, you know, all that. Anime onlys don’t say that the anime is better by stating these things that a manga won’t have... because they’re fucking obvious. So manga readers should stop acting like an anime is inherently sub-par for being less in depth, but we digress.) I can understand that reading the manga is kind of important for wanting to understand the lore (though there are like so many other reasons ppl might want to watch it other than to get the lore) and without the explanation of how all this came to be and how it works, everything tends to be really mysterious, confusing, and seemingly random. It’s really nice to know what’s all going on, of course, and stuff like the washuus, rize’s backstory, the explanation for like, kaneki in general, all that- if you’re looking for like, plot shit, manga is definitely your go to. But like, sometimes, you like, don’t actually care about those things.
Haise: Of course one of the most important things about well, including re is that I fucking love Haise. Like he is my favorite Kaneki. He’s just so wonderful, look at him in he glasses and he floofy hair and he striped pants and he energy boxers and he s p i c e and he MOM. And I really like how they took Kaneki’s character and developed it more with Haise, you can see his turnaround from innocent--> Emo--> Trying To Be Innocent Again But Failing and I think that’s really sweet tbh. I rejected that at first because I didn’t understand it but once I actually read re I thought it made a lot of sense and was a logical thing to do with his character. (though, uh, moving forward, after his hair changes again i disagree with it, haise 1.0 is a good take and i love him and i want the best for him) I could go on I’ve already written a post of what I think is wrong with :re so if you want to hear my take on kaneki’s 37 pokemon evolutions that’s in there
Good New Characters: And of course there are my favorite bitches such as quinx squad, oh my god, there was a terminal lack of dumbass squad vibes in the original and ishida fucking gave it to us, I love them, I love them with all my heart and I think that if I wasn’t attached to them I’d probably just cancel all of :re but like this is just my personal problem. God I love them. Ishida always pulls through with characters I’m now too attached to.
Vore Lmao:Ok like hear me out. I just get a laugh out of it every time the manga has to remind me of this little fucking fact. Like ok I just. Cannot get over it. It’s so serious about it too and like I realize it’s a serious deal but o h m y g o d
Ok and now that we’ve got that little rant over I do want to say that it is like actually really important past the “lmao that’s pretty gay” bit, like??? In some ways it’s more fitting than the anime because well, ishida’s point always seems to be “what would mentally and physically hurt kaneki the most right now” and does it because that’s who this bitch is. But it just?? Kind of makes a bit more sense for the storyline if we’re being picky here, it’s so,,, painfully on point? Like the entire reason he gave in to Being A Ghoul and all was so he could save his friends and shit (i actually do not remember if this was a thing in the manga but like? when he was being tortured and he like imagined hide being really mad at him and getting killed by jason and shit?) LIKE AND THEN HE GOES AND HAS TO BASICALLY BE THE PERPETRATOR OF THAT HIMSELF, FUCK, it’s a lose/lose situation of “don’t do the bad thing and watch your friends suffer” or “do the bad thing and watch your friends suffer but like, later” ishida please
The meaning of Hide being alive: Ok this is just me crying over chapter 75 still but like. Instead of in the anime, where hide’s point seems to be that instead of letting kaneki sacrifice anything more he’d be the one to give his life up and such, and save kaneki, in the anime tbh he just really wanted to be with kaneki right then?? and like ouch but understanding that in the manga he wasn’t just planning on dying and leaving kaneki to deal with it afterward he wanted to go on and continue to try to help the guy no matter the shit he had to go through, no matter if the dude just like forgot that he existed for two years and all- LIKE UH CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW HIDE DOESN’T EVEN EXPECT ANY APOLOGY? like kaneki’s like “OH MY GOD I’M SUCH A TERRIBLE PERSON” and hide’s like lmao nah it’s cool i’m thriving- that his big motto was “live” rather than “peace out motherfuckers it’s been fun”. Cause. Fucking. Ishida. Can’t kill off characters well but like at least he made keeping this one alive justified.
The D e t a i l s: Ok well I feel like this is something everyone knows but the anime is missing a lot of really,,, crunchy details that the manga throws in there, like, well, kaneki’s fucking,,, bones thing, and other assorted details, g o d like those are missable if you want to never understand half the memes but also like,,, sometimes you just gotta read that shit. It also like, makes more sense when you do but sometimes it’s just stupid things that aren’t important but are fucking hilarious.
The Flavor: In general I’d say the greatest difference between the anime and the manga is the general flavor of the thing, the vibe in the manga is a lot, to be frank, darker and grosser and bloodier than the anime, which is a lot more focused on being pretty and Tragic than “HOLY SHIT WTF” but like. That’s valid. With that comes it being a lot more, real, and although the art may not be as polished as the anime’s, sometimes that’s exactly what you need, and the really gritty sketchy shit that’s in the manga sometimes is exactly what it’s supposed to be for the manga. (in the anime, i’d say that the colored and polished style fits it better, so we’re good there.) It’s a lot more real, in the manga, when the anime hesitates to “go there” a lot (and well, sometimes that’s welcome, but sometimes it’s like y o u g u y s c o m e o n r e a l l y maybe i DID want to see that did you ever think of that)
So like, to sum it up i��d just like to say it’s more detailed, sharper and darker and is simply So Much. There is just More Content
The Case for Root A
ON THE OTHER HAND, (buckle up fuckers)
Depth of Emotion (that Ishida was too much of a pissbaby for): God like you know what I mean if you read the last post, we spent a whole episode on these gay fucks in root A, with backstory and dreams and drawn out suspense and emotion and GUYS LOOK AT THEM NO REALLY OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS whereas hide’s limelight in the manga is a whole... two pages, oh whoopee, and that’s mostly due to the fact of ishida putting himself in a spot of “oh fuck goddamn if i drew that in i’d get flagged for gay porn” but that’s his own fault, so he downplays the whole scene and really keeps it in the dark, whereas in this anime it’s understandably a lot less,,, like that, but how it plays out here is simply... really nice and makes you cry and shit, whereas in the manga I’d go “oh god oh damn oh fuck” *laughs my ass off because i really can’t take this seriously*. You get just... more here.
To elaborate on this, in the anime, as a gay fucking bastard, I can get practically an endless amount of content from episode twelve, and endlessly stew over all Those Things about it, every hard hitting line, the expressions, the music making it even sadder, the ways the VAs say the words, the cinematic beauty of the blood dripping on the floor and like how it’s supposed to make you think it’s kaneki’s, GOD I COULD FUCKING GO ON, but if we want to get that in the manga...
we get three incredibly basic lines, a blackout, and then a “QUICK LET’S MOVE ON TO SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE ANYONE NOTICES THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT HAHA”
So if we want to have more, we need to write it. (sadly) None of it is ever played out canonically so like,,, all we can do is infer and make shit up. It’s like, I am a writer so like that’s my whole job but I really would rather have more content, and have the content that’s there get to be emotional instead of *blank face* “this is plot that is happening, sadly” but like maybe it’s just bc i’m gay
Really Fucking Beautiful (aesthetically as well as story-wise): This kind of just goes hand in hand with the depth of emotion bit, and I think it can’t really compared to the manga here because I’m gay so I see pretty colors and cry so the anime is understandably appealing for me, but I’m also talking emotionally, yeah. There’s a lot of plotlines and implications of the story that are really well played out, I always love to watch the original because it does a very good job handling a lot of the harder topics and stuff that makes the whole thing worthwhile- like the whole point you’re supposed to see that the ghouls and humans are both just as monstrous when you break it down, that there are good and bad people on both sides, everyone just wants to live and feel good in their own life and perspective, everyone has reasons that justify their behaviour in their mind, sometimes you just can’t win no matter what, all that... they’re all really important messages and make the whole story, and they were handled much more delicately and with more expertise in the anime.
It’s hard to pin down, but I feel like the manga was just based more on Fight Scenes Characters OoH Fake Science and kind of just gave kaneki infinite power ups after Trying Harder no offense, obviously those things were there and they were still very good in the manga it’s just sometimes they were cheapened a lot by ishida really not keeping track of what he’s trying to say with his story and sacrificing it a lot for “BUT WHAT IF KANEKI’S HAIR AND IDEALS CHANGED AGAIN” instead of making it a whole cohesive work. (and yes, I am VERY aware of your “well aCtuAlLy the hair represents his sanity” thing i know i know and i’m about to rip it to fucking shreds so)
Understandable Character Development And Staying True To It: Which brings me to this point, character development. This was another thing that was just... handled with more expertise in the anime, whoever was in charge of it. Mostly this has to do with Kaneki, since like, no offense but he’s the only one who ever gets much character development other than like, juuzou (asmr you only get character development if your hair color changes) oh and i guess there’s tsukiyama but he’s someone who shouldn’t have gotten character development. Touka gets character development only before re for some reason, and like tbh that’s kind of it. I do think Juuzou’s character development was valid, because well... it made sense? I complained about it before because I was like “well he just turns into spicy L” but i’ve since changed my opinion, he’s best boy. But Kaneki? They went way overboard with him in the manga, and generally? Calm tf down ishida.
Breaking it down, one of the main things that most of the tried and true manga stans seem to hate about the anime the most is Kaneki going over to Aogiri in root A. Since they’re much more acclimated to the manga, they don’t understand why he would do that (quoting a particular ‘probably made sense in the manga!’ yes i know that whole thing was poking fun at the show and i felt it lmao) and they just pin it to “ahaha he has now become Edgy for the fans ehehe time to make fun of him” and TO BE FAIR YOU’D BE COMPLETELY RIGHT. I love to make fun of Kaneki when he does his edgy bitch thing because that’s what he is. A basic edgy bitch who is just,,, such a main character. But like. He does actually have his reasons despite popular opinion and to be honest I think they’re a bit more valid than in the manga, where he’s just like “well I’ve been tortured, that was not pleasant and i kinda did a bad thing, let’s go back to anteiku but i’m just gonna Try Harder To Fight this time”. I can understand that, but like, it seems like in the manga every Character Development of kaneki is some form of “i will now be stronger” except for the singular “I will now be a different person” which, well, we’ll get to that.
In the anime though, even if it seems like more of a basic edgy bitch move, it’s like?? It makes perfect sense to me, and to be honest more than the manga does? Obviously he doesn’t wanna be best bros with Aogiri, he realizes they’re all bad people who have done really terrible things, but the fact is he now sees himself as the same thing, he now understands their motives because in his mind he is also now Bad TM. His whole character development of being tortured was that peace wasn’t an option no matter how much he wanted it, he couldn’t live being a pacifist and the world was forcing him to give the “i am the only one that understands! we need to stop fighting!” bullshit up because there was no way to achieve it. He realized if he kept himself the way he was more people he loved would be hurt like they already had because he couldn’t, so he doesn’t just Decide To Become Stronger, he gives up his humanity. And that includes basically letting himself defend his own actions and try to do “the right thing”.
Him then joining aogiri makes sense because well. They’re the people who are the strongest, who have the power, who are the same as he sees himself. He still wants to protect the people he loves, he just also realizes he can’t do it by working with them since he now understands that their more peaceful ways will by definition get them fucking killed. His understanding is flawed, of course. He’s not really right. But this is his understanding and from that it makes perfect sense for him to join up with aogiri and try to still do as much as possible from that standpoint, realizing that most likely the people he’s trying to protect will hate him for it. I think that makes sense to me, what do you not understand about it? (I also understand that may make some people mad because he’d Doing Bad Things but I point to you he’s so soft, remember when he was really nice to naki when he was literally the one who killed the guy naki was crying about? remember when he was doing a raid and he saw that guy hiding and he never mentioned it? remember like the seventy times he Cried TM, yeah he’s problematic obviously but if you want problematic I’ll point you to a certain fucking black reaper. Shironeki has nothing on that asshole.)
I think what Kaneki did in the manga was fine, but in general the anime (again) had more depth of understanding and emotion versus a steady Try Harder Get Stronger shonen deal, which, well, fair, but like, nah. Continuing why I think the anime dealt it better is the ending of A, which was a lot more well rounded then *kaneki gets stabbed and then there’s a lot of random plot shit going on in the background*. Here Kaneki then got to round out the end of his character development by realizing slowly through the second half of this season, him becoming a kakuja and then basically deciding like, not to
((kakuja kaneki was dealt with again different in the anime and manga because he basically stopped trying to use it in the anime bc he realized it was a bad fucking idea but this goes along with the ‘his character development of “i’m gonna do bad things for good reasons” --> “actually no wait that was a bad idea” was actually done in root A instead of being dragged out into :re and it’s appropriate for its own medium and the messages it’s trying to get across so manga loyalists hate it’ but we digress))
So in root A we got to see him actually develop and realize himself through the second half of the season starting with cochlea, his interactions with Amon, and ultimately through Hide, that he’d been doing the wrong thing by becoming more monstrous/fighting harder because what he did was ended up forgetting the most important thing, *smiles in gay* HIDE.(well, his humanity. yeah. i cite the terrible opening for root A with the fun ‘the hands taking off kaneki’s mask are hide’s’ bit.) He then remembered again why he wanted so bad to stop the war between humans and ghouls, he wanted to be able to live in peace and not have to be a monster- something that was not dealt with in the manga (though for understandable reasons of We Need To Fuck With Him In Re More, they then didn’t deliver on creating something like that later so I take this.)
That’s most of the difference between the original manga and anime, but I’d also like to discuss (briefly, I’ve already yelled about them) the ridiculous amount of hurdles ishida went through to fuck with kaneki in the manga, Of course there is the fact that well, the slower transition of his character does make some more sense for the manga because if you take :re into consideration, his eight billion character changes are more tolerable when they haven’t like, already happened before in the manga (just the anime). It makes more sense there for Haise to be tormented by past kaneki telling him He’s Too Weak because in the manga he hasn’t already had that development prior to “dying”, and he lost his memories still believing he had to be strong even if he did bad things, whereas in the anime it doesn’t track because at the end like i just said he kind of gives up his ghoulhood on purpose because he realizes that joining aogiri and fighting and shit was really wrong because, hide. So I can see why those character decisions were not made in the original when planning for :re, but... the fact remains that those previous decisions do not make up for how absolutely weak :re’s game ended up being with kaneki.
So tldr this entire section, All the manga’s defense of how they handled Kaneki’s development is basically void because all those choices were buildup for development in :re which ishida then COMPLETELY fell down on. So the alternative is better.
And now comes my yelling about how exactly Ishida fucked it up: hair colors and kaneki’s 80 kanekis. If black is supposed to represent sane and white is supposed to represent insane or, whatever, i dunno, who tf thought black reaper kaneki was sane? Who tf would think kaneki in the end isn’t? I haven’t looked into this really, and I’d really love it if someone explained it to me the way ishida was going for bc I do not understand it. Like that tracks with Juuzou, and with Kaneki up to Haise Original, but they don’t really make a cohesive sense seeing as after Haise’s hair color changed again that whole deal kind of goes to shit. Not to mention... I just... they completely failed to make those character changes actually part of the story, I’m mostly complaining about black reaper haise, none of him makes any sense. What’s his deal? He wants to protect who he loves? Tracks with the ghouls but fun fact he abandoned his kids? He actually cared for them? What then, he wants to be the strongest as possible? Sure but then?? Why?? I don’t understand his motives at all.
We also didn’t get to see him get his memories back either, which I was actually very much looking forward to, it just,,, like all of a sudden he’s talking with eto about yoshimura and i’m like bruh when tf did that happen? It’s bad, and although chapter 74-76 is super valid, and his change back into white hair kaneki makes sense, I also have the complaint about how haise basically disappeared just like he was worried he would. I think that was bad and I’ve said that already, it doesn’t make sense, he just literally throws those entire two years away to go back to the way he was before he was with the CCG and just forgets everything he’s wanted for the last few years? Fiction logic test fucking failed, and you’ve also broken my heart. Love Haise. You got rid of him. I love kaneki too but like. Why don’t they just. Like. Merge. He is one whole complex person, not one and an imposter, god.
This is a big negative for re and the manga, so automatically a positive for root A where I simply Do Not Have To Deal With That Bullshit and the character development actually makes sense. I can understand the decisions in the original manga could have set up for good development in :re, but they completely failed to deliver.
root a didn’t fast forward to re at the end god damn let us process this shit first before you try to connect it to something else: The thing with this point is that it’s really difficult to separate the original manga from the continuing story in :re because the thing intertwines so much and immediately moves us forward with a ton of plot points for the next part of the story before we’re done with this climax and the end of this story. Sometimes that’s ok and I can see doing that from an author’s perspective because you want people to continue reading your story instead of taking that as the end but it’s really annoying on a reader’s end, because I’m picky and I want to be able to just be able to enjoy my original canon without it like, metaphorically touching :re on a plate. It’s something that I don’t even do with my own longer stories, like for example I have like a trilogy of >100k fics that like, well i’m technically not done with them but like.
People really like the first one because it’s more focused on a more popular ship and basic elements people like about the thing, and then by the second book it moves on to talk more about the plot and lore and brings in more secondary characters. And so I knew that a lot of the readers of the first one wouldn’t want to have to deal with a lot of the “oh well stuff is happening elsewhere that will effect stuff later!!!” random plot shit that none of my readers actually cared about. So I kept it to wrapping up the points of the first book and then leaving the introduction of new characters and plot for the people who actually wanted to read it. Ishida didn’t do that, and of course it’s within his right to like?? Want to promote the next series but I’d have enjoyed it more if we ended it at kaneki’s “death” and wrapping up the deals with the rest of the characters instead of quickly shoving in the beginning of seventy more plotlines before the book ends. Like honey I simply do not have the reading comprehension for that. In the anime we get something that... makes sense.
In the anime, however, it’s quite the opposite, for example the reveals like Eto=owl=takatsuki sen were pushed before that and they saved episode twelve for, well, the end bit. Like what was actually the ending. There were detriments to this I had to say (LIKE GUYS I GET IT HE’S CARRYING HIDE HE’S CARRYING HIM I GET IT YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT FOR HALF THE EPISODE NOW OK I UNDERSTAND CAN WE MOVE ON) But like, I prefer the concept of a simple idea with as much emotion squeezed out of it as possible to a ton of confusing and contradicting ideas that are touched on for a second before moving on. So the *cries for half an hour* ending was much more appealing to me, and I can keep that separate in my head from any of the ideas that :re creates, letting me pretend it doesnt exist and imagine that’s the end and there’s nothing else to worry about. If we want to move forward and hear more, then we can, but it isn’t necessary like it is with the manga.
No Bad Takes that are hard to pry apart from good plot and characters:This is basically the downsides of the new characters, which is well, if I had to make a whole ~keep reading~ post about how problematic everything in re was that does have to count as a downside. I love the new characters, but they also come intertwined with a thousand really bad takes on like, everything, and of course I can ignore it and just act as though they were written in like, to be perfectly honest, a non transphobic way, it’s a real downside when the original anime was pretty pain-free in the way of their takes on their characters. They fucked everyone up in re and I will not elaborate, we’ve talked about this, it’s just the anime, and which i mean season 1 and root A, don’t really have any bad takes I need to try to get rid of, it’s surprisingly something I have little complaint about at all and I ALWAYS have complaints.
Hide!!!!: Obviously, you can tell that a lot of my opinions are going to be hide based because he’s the only thing I ever think about. But we have to take into account just how... hide???? This goes a lot into the depth of emotion bit but it also offers the other side of the argument for Hide’s part in the :re manga, which well. Was mostly chapter 75 if we’re going to be perfectly honest here. He doesn’t get any other limelight. Even in the chapter where Kaneki meets him again he gets a whole what, three pages? In the manga, he has an extremely valid deal about basically, living, keeping going no matter what, and that is a fitting part for the manga, considering the rest of the points there ride more on Keep Fighting instead of Think About Your Emotions And Morals, but honestly chapter 75 was really valid. So why do I still think the anime’s version where he like (ok I don’t know about the re anime we’ve discussed this, i don’t even know how they choose to explain that) he like, dies in kaneki’s arms is better overall? Again, I would have totally accepted that deal if it was made a part of the story because it made me cry, it was super valid, and if they’d continued in that way I would have agreed with it completely over that. But the fact is again that they failed to deliver, and Hide got largely ignored, suffered so much with so little outcome. There was so much buildup and it was incredibly valid, but when the time came for them to meet again and basically show... why it was important that Hide lived in the end?
They didn’t. They straight up didn’t. Kaneki’s like “oh sorry bro... glad you’re alive and all...” *goes off and fights* and like? Honestly? @everlastingspiral is right, if that’s all they’re gonna do with him what’s the point of keeping him alive? I love every single panel of him and I wouldn’t have read re if he didn’t, but hide gets absolutely NO payoff. For letting kaneki literally vore his entire mouth off, leaving him disfigured and unable to talk, then kind of disappearing for two years and doing seemingly nothing but trying to help kaneki even though he’d forgotten the guy existed, risks his life like a thousand fucking times, eventually gets back to him and the dude’s running a fucking anti-human organization, helps him like Not Be A Volitile Pile Of Flesh Anymore and then what should have been a very important moment of them meeting again gets completely overshadowed by touka and random plot shit and more fights and they barely interact, they don’t even hug or anything, they barely talk, and at the end hide is still there but to be honest he’s gotten absolutely no thanks for all he did and ishida acts at the end as though he’s done very well with hide and gives him a tiny bit at the end throwing in a tragic backstory for fun (which hot take he really didn’t fucking need on top of it all) and... there’s no real hint that Kaneki is better off with Hide there, even though there should be. In 75, in his dream, kaneki is sobbing and crying and all like i’m so lonely without you but when they actually meet each other again? “yo” “hey” “uh sorry about,,, the thing,,, you know” “nah man it’s ok” “let me talk about myself for a bit” “yes you always do do you want to hear what I’ve been up to” “not really” “that’s fine i’m only here to support you”
...So you can understand why I’ve gone a bit sour on that. If that’s all you’re going to give him? Hot take? Let him die. Hide deserves better. (and i will deliver that in writing, but for the purposes of canon.)
In the anime, however (not counting re again... although he still gets the short end of the stick just in the original manga too compared to the anime) he’s properly dealt with! he gets his proper limelight and he gets acknowledged for what he’s done thusfar in the story, which is already so much. Kaneki then realizes that, but it’s already too late (or it isn’t, and they like negotiate with the ccg and then they get to live happily ever after) either way he gets appreciated and he gets hurt, but it’s properly acknowledged. And after all that, after saving kaneki and getting him to the cafe and doing it all while bleeding the fuck out, he gets to spend that time with kaneki and die in kaneki’s arms. And frankly? That’s all I think he’s ever needed. It’s really poetic and pretty and brings kaneki’s character around full circle, and even if it’s overly sappy, cliche, drawn out... he gets the attention he’s due and he gets a fucking break. He wanted to show Kaneki he wanted to do something for him and save him instead of the other way around, but then HE GOT ACKNOWLEDGED FOR THAT, instead of just well, tirelessly working towards it forever and having to be content to be a background character with practically no value to Kaneki anymore.
Keeps The Same Vibe: The big thing about this is that with the manga and with re, shit just goes all over the place, and I feel like I’ve amply showed that already through this essay or whatever this is. Again about the consistency and the professionalism, It’s a concise story that makes more sense than the manga while also being simply neater and more deep, making sure all the points, themes and messages work together and make sense to create a cohesive deal even if it’s not as long. (the manga is like ishida had a TON of good ideas for an essay but then fleshed out the thing ten minutes before deadline and managed to completely lose what his original thesis was even if the thing was 10 pages long.) Basically. yeah. That kind of sums it up, my last point concerns the ending.
Not Cheap Ending: If you want to hear my take about how absolutely terrible re’s ending was, check out my The Many Sins Of Tokyo Ghoul :Re post, and we’ve discussed how the original’s manga ending was bad and well not really an ending, it just leaves you unfulfilled and takes you into “well I guess I have to start a whole nother sequel series ig...” but root A like? Actually ends it? If a reader didn’t know that there was any content after that, they could pretty much infer that hide’s death or almost death whatever you inferred out of that ending (again we’re ignoring re) allowed Kaneki to finish his character development and realize they needed to stop the war, which basically tracks with what’s going on in everyone else’s perspective- eto’s problem with the world because of what happened with everything, is basically like, all of aogiri, juuzou and shinohara, amon and akira and kaneki and they can realize all they have to do is just sit down and fucking stop it because none of them want to be fighting, hide is the catalyst for that because the CCG can see how Kaneki cares for him? And it’s so open ended that you could just like literally believe that and there’d be no way for that canon to tell you otherwise, or you could go onto re and whatever if you wanted to. I think that’s the best thing.
In conclusion, both have valid points, and in general I’d say that the manga goes better with :re and the anime is better as a stand alone but if I had to choose overall, this particular anime is better (taking into account only seasons 1 and 2), for mostly the reasons of favoring a simpler story taken with much more care and depth versus a more complex story with many, MANY imperfect elements, and I am aware I will get shot on sight for this opinion. So sue me.
#tokyo ghoul#hideyoshi nagachika#kaneki ken#tokyo ghoul :re#essay post#god i've been writing this for so fucking long#but i'm right#y'all fuckers asked for a fight? you're getting a fight#rowan's hyperfixation essays
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Hey Hun! Lots of love to you. For starters I wanted to say that there should be no cell in your body blaming yself in any way. You and your blog were hope for so many people. You were the "you are not crazy" of the final weeks, and I'm forever grateful to you. Instead of dying of anxiety I managed to have a blast in this time of waiting, thanks to you. I passed my master thesis, because you gave me strength to see past the fear. I laughed in those weeks more than in last 5 years, and all of it because of the hope you gave me.
The rest of the msg is going to be pretty emotional rant about the awfulness of it all, and I know my opinion doesn't matter to anyone but I wanted someone important to me to hear my thoughts, if that's ok. It's also ok if you don't want to read it ofc. It's like my breakup letter to the show.
I hear many people cheering for the finale and i find it really hard to deal with. I always considered myself an open person who fights for healthy love as the only redeeming quality of the universe. I could see people's point of view, even if it didn't sit well with mine, and I would always try to hear them out respectfully until they weren't being respectful themselves. That said, I'm fully unable to understand cheering for this type of spiteful content and hearing those cheers makes me feel like the entire world is listening to "this is how you treat your fans, this is how to abuse your power over naive sheep, this is how to keep dumb, hopeful minorities in check" and taking notes.
It also upsets me that the people who gave this show all of themselves and tried to understand it to the core are given no resolution, are spitted on and buried under the rug for doing their best to appreciate the art and the story it was telling. Yet people, who just hang around and watch the show doing the dishes, with no consideration to it's story or characters, got as nonsensical ending as their whole idea of character development in SPN.
I know people say that it was good enough, because it leaves space for guessing and own interpretation, but I feel it's really undermining the extend to which the finale was awful and hurtful to the fans. There is no end that realistically could stop fanfic writers from finding way around it in the world of Supernatural, so saying it was thoughtful of them Is like excusing abusive partner because "they could hit me harder, but they didn't. That means they care"
Lose ends, characters being written in a way that is totally not true to them and their development (personally my biggest allegation), dismissing years of story development, proving that it was all 'queerbaiting' in big part in the end (hell, even the whole "Cas is in heaven so do with it what you will" is a shameful way of appalling to LGBTQ community after using them so hard.
In the pie scene, the roles should be swapped, it's Dean who should say that Cas is on his mind and Sam explaining him that it's only right to keep on living doing good in their name. That's what Dean told Sam at the beginning of the season, when Sam lost Rowena, so it would be at least a bit poetic. This would at least give us some truth from Dean for once, but he died how he lived, in shadow of his fear to be true towards his feelings and needs. And as he died, he bound his little brother to the hunting till the end of his days, by guilting him into it on his deathbed. Guess Dean took after his father.
Have you realised what that emotional "love speech" from Dean to Sam resulted in? It was writers taking back Cas' confession after they didn't need our viewership anymore.
They basically gave us love confession to get us to follow the finale and when they didn't need us anymore, not only they didn't commit to the confession, but they undermined it by having Dean's speech to Sam go the way it did with obviously higher emotional charge, successfully taking back the value of Cas' confession and making it about a bait for "Tumblr idiots"
Finale killed my feelings towards Destiel, not because it wasn't confirmed canon, but because from what I see in the episode, they canonically confirmed that
- for Dean, Cas was only means to an end, which is such an awful way of ending Cas' character arc. They gave him everything he was scared of and nothing close to consolation price and they dare to tell us he had a happy ending, "because they said so". Well, I didn't see him being happy, and knowing what i textually know i can empathise enough to say that he faced a miserable finish. Even Chuck got an end that was better than Cas' fate.
- Dean, given power to do anything he could dream of, chooses to not even greet Cas, after Cas gave his whole life to Dean, told him he loved him and died for him. I know some people consider the little smirk of Dean confirmation of his feelings, but let's be real for just a second. If someone you deeply loved for years confessed to you, told you they thought you don't love them back, you would be freaking running to see them and tell them how much you love them. That smirk to me reads as "I'm relieved to know you're not going to spend eternity in mega hell that i left you in" and we really need to stop giving credit to writers for scraps like this when it's the last episode ever and we know this isn't going anywhere.
Not to mention that by having Jack bring Cas back behind the scenes it just highlights the fact that Dean didn't ask him to do that in episode 19.
As result, I'm unable to look at any Destiel scene and not think "in here Cas already loved him and in here Dean already abuses the power he had over Cas, because of his one-sided love"
And yet, the episode and endgames for everyone (maybe not Sam, but he was seriously pinning for Dean his entire life. Wincest much?) managed to be so bad, that not even bringing Cas back or following up on Destiel would make a difference in my eyes. I know you believe that Destiel would save it, but for me as much as it would be a redeeming quality, it wouldn't be enough to save this awfulness that writer doomed characters with.
And all the Wincest scenes in the finale... I low key expected them to make out and it made me feel physically sick. Also, cutting Misha out because of coronavirus is a cheap excuse. We all know better than to believe that, so let's not fall for the self pity play from the abuser.
If you managed to stay with me till this point, thank you so much for hearing me out. I hope i didn't anger you with my monologue. I will always think of the lamp when i think of you. The reality is that you were the lamp for so many of us in this darkness.
Love you so much, wish all the best to you, take care of yourself and stay safe!
Oh my god, if I didn’t cry with the final, I definitely am crying now. And now I have to explain my partner why I’m staring at my laptop and sobbing ugly. What have you done?
First of all, I hear you pain, my friend! I share it! I didn’t spend a second after the final without the feeling of my heart being shuttered into million pieces, being stitched back just to break again, and so on and so on.
I had my first panic attack in two years yesterday, when I kept thinking about the message the show sent to the fandom via Dean’s fate. I have a few posts in my draft on the matter, but I am not sure I will ever share them, because it is one strong depresso, and I don’t think people following me should see how fucked up it really is (if they didn’t get it by themselves, of course).
I want to remind you, my gentle soul, that the story belongs to us. We know Dean, we know Cas, we know Sam and others. We know that the final is not who they are! I know it’s hard to ignore the text, the canon, because it’s kinda godsent, but the truth is essential. And the final is not the truth.
The truth:
Cas loves Dean, he sacrificed himself for him, he saved his life on multiple occasions, he told all those beautiful things and he meant every word.
Dean loves Cas, he was on his lowest every time he lost him, Cas was his “big win”, his best friend, his brother, his white light that lead him out of his anger, hatred and despair. He took a dog and called it Miracle, he was looking for a job to retire from hunting, he didn’t kill Chuck - all of that, because the sacrifice Cas made was not in vain! The message was clear.
I choose to ignore the “Carry on”, the only attention it is going to get is me creating 20 more mails just to put a one star review there and to drop some more salty or bitter comments with it. Maybe I will read through some reviews, too, add them to my collection.
Maybe I will one day write here an article from scriptwriting perspective how fucked up in was, because that’s what I can do about it, without throwing up.
If you can’t ignore it, I understand it. It is painful, it is disrespectful, I hate it as much as you do, probably.
If there’s anything I can do for you to feel better, just drop me a message, we can talk about it. I am on the lowest, too, but maybe we can help each other.
You say I was your lamp. Let me lead you our of the darkness one more time <3
CW can suck my metaphorical dick (I’m tagging every angry post with it), but Supernatural is not just the show on CW, it’s a big family.
And you can’t give up on it! You can’t give up on Dean and Cas, you can’t give up on Destiel! It’s so much bigger then the show itself.
Rediscover the show for yourself, remind yourself that Dean and Cas are real, it was never one sided, it was always something amazing.
What is real? We are.
Don’t you ever change.
I rather have you, cursed or not.
It’s love, hun, and love always wins.
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