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edgeray · 3 months

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BENEATH THE MASK

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Have this Father's Day special oneshot. enemies to lovers villain arlecchino x hero reader, aka, is it gay to sleep in the same bed as your enemy? Your hero name is Rover, because heheh wuwa reference. Might make a part 2 if someone wants it. Content warnings / info - arlecchino is mean and threatens you, arlecchino's pov, gn! reader, 2.2k words

A knock sounds on the front door, making Arlecchino pause in the midst of her meal. A visitor? Certainly, there’s no one she was expecting today, especially at–Arlecchino glances at the clock– 9:18PM. Anyone who she would allow to visit her would text or call beforehand. Should she just pretend that she's not there? Frowning, she sets down the fork on the table. Damn it, she really should install cameras already but she always pushes it back.

Cautiously peering through the eye hole, her breath hitches and her eyes widen. If she had a heart, it would have sunk into her stomach. Her hands fly to the door handle, unlocking it and flinging it open.

At her doorstep, you stand there, blood staining your torn and ripped suit as you clutch your arm. There's a knife lodged in your shoulder, and she could see your face– scratched up and bruised. Your pupils are foggy and your expression seems far away, hardly able to direct your attention onto her. Upon seeing her, an abnormal smile finds your face, then, your knees buckle and you tumble into her arms. She catches you effortlessly, slotting her arms behind your back and tugging you into her chest. You go boneless in her grasp.

“What the hell happened to you, Rover?” She demands through gritted teeth while she glances down at you. She carries you into her house, closing the door with a swift kick, doing her best to haul you into her living room and setting you down to lay on her couch. Your blood seeps into the furniture. You wince at the new movement, sharply inhaling.

“Got… into f-fight. With some, some new guy. Real asshole he was. Fucked… fucked him up pretty good,” you force out in between your labored breathing, before you cough out more blood. Your eyes flit over her form.

“Heh… nice sleepwear,” you remark with a trembling, cunning smile. “Who would have known… the notorious Knave sleeps in Hello Kitty pants… you're a lot less scary now… you know? Nice place as well…”

Arlecchino proceeds to ignore your comment. “How did you find me? Why did you come here? Do you have a fucking death wish, Rover?” She presses on, her hardened features showing no hint of empathy or concern.

“I'm… smarter than you think. And… I came because… hell, if I know.” You wetly cough. “Didn't have… anywhere else.”

The two of you know that she won't kill you, at least not now. For as often you found one another on opposite sides, the two of you have come to understand each other.

Arlecchino breathes in deeply through her nose, processing her enemy's word. Rover has always been a major hindrance in her plans– a constant rose thorn in her side for years, but she always appreciates your grit and strength. You've battled her tens of times, and each fight she can't deny the exhilaration she feels. She's yet to beat you and the vice versa is the same. A frequent dance between players of different sides, somehow the two of you always found the other in each other's paths. It would be romantic if it wasn't outright irritating.

Only you could truly challenge you and for that it's why the pitiful state you're in disturbs her to no end. You can't die, not here, not now, not when it's not by her hands. She will pry your last breath with her own hands, she will not allow anyone else to have that honor. She wants to see what kind of expression you'd make when she snuffs out your final bit of life. It would be so easy to end you here. To wrap her claws around your pretty neck, watch your pathetic attempts of struggle, savor the despair in your eyes, oh how easy it would be.

But if there was anything the Knave was, it was not a freeloader. She will not take other people's efforts and use them to further her own goals, which she will strive for by herself alone. If she killed you here, her own dignity would be singed.

There will come a day when the Rover is brought down, and the perpetrator will be clear: her. Until then, your survival is of the utmost importance, and next? To pay this scum a lesson of who can touch her angel and it is certainly not him.

“Who is this new villain that's sprung up?” She questions as she walks to the bathroom, grabbing her first aid kit, cotton balls, and some alcohol.

“Get this. The Doctor…” The hero then chuckles weakly. “Massive dick.”

“I see…” the Knave mutters as she approaches you. “Why did you come to me instead of the hospital?”

“Closer… easier to hide…”

“He was actively hunting you?”

“His ‘segments’ are still out there… no doubt wanting to finish the job…”

“Segments?”

“His clones.”

“Why you?”

“Jealous… of my good looks, maybe…?”

Arlecchino frowns. So you don't know why. She sits down in between your legs, leaning over you as she observes you, examining any wounds she can see. A couple of cuts on your sleeves and face, a deeper laceration over your sternum, and the knife wound. At least he gave her a little keepsake, though it is just like any cheap, small knife. If he has multiple ‘segments,’ then supplying them with proper weapons would be costly…

“Can you remove your costume?” Her finger trails over your ribs making you hiss out in agony.

You shake your hand. “C-can't… can barely lift my arms.”

The Knave sighs, letting her claws extend out. “I'm going to have to cut it off you.”

“Go ahead.”

Deliberately and precisely, she uses one claw to slice open your costume, exposing your chest to her. You flush and squirm slightly before she places the same clawed hand over your stomach, talons pricking your skin. Her fingertips feel impossibly hot, just like her blood flame abilities. Your abdomen muscles flex just from the contact and she can feel it when her frown twitches.

“Stay still,” she gruffs, piercing red-crossed eyes bores into yours.

“At least…take me out… to dinner first, Knave,” you snicker.

“You're insufferable.”

As she patches you up and tends to the various bruises and cuts you have, a silence forms between the two of you. She notices that throughout the entire interaction, you're peering at her, but not at her hands–her face.

“Lift your hips. I need to bandage your abdomen.”

You try to comply, but find yourself barely able to lift it past a little up. You grunt in agony, and then give her puppy eyes. The Knave is a villain. She's able to destroy the city center with the snap of her fingers, has brought down buildings with no effort, and has cremated numerous people. She is either feared by the mass or revered by scums. She would never be defeated by something as commiserable as your pleading expression.

“Do I have to do everything for you? I wonder how I've yet beat you when you're this incompetent injured,” Arlecchino huffs. Her hands grasp your hip, raising your hips until she slides your bottom over her lap, your bent knees on either side of her. The sight resembles something terribly intimate to Arlecchino, and from your flustered appearance, it seems that way to you too.

“Didn't think I would… have the Knave in between… my legs so soon,” you smirk cunningly, wiggling your hips as best as you can to further enunciate your archon-awful humor. One hand of hers finds your thigh before she grips it, claws digging through your costume and nicking into your skin. It's shallow enough to act as a warning but deep enough for you to feel it, a gesture to show that she doesn't appreciate your mouth.

“Did you forget? We are enemies. Just because I choose not to harm you now does that mean it would be wise to provoke me.”

“Not currently.”

That much is true. Silence fills between the two of you again.

“You know… you would be a lot easier to look at without your mask,” you whisper. Arlecchino looks up at you, her stone cold expression betrayed by her eyes, focused intently on you. How you had the audacity to trifle with her, she's uncertain. Perhaps it's just a distraction tactic you’ve turned into a habit, though she's unaware of whether or not you use this with other villains.

“Are you suggesting I'm rather hard to look at when I do?” She inquires.

“Quite the opposite. You would look even better, though.”

“The reason I wear a mask is the same reason you do.” Though, you don't need to wear yours right now. She already knows where you reside, and your true name.

“We don't have to wear masks when it's just us, Arlecchino.” The villain shivers at hearing her name come from your lips; it sounds immorally ethereal, wicked to associate something so vile with something as seraphic as your voice. And that voice that's slipped past her rational, calculating thoughts whispers that she'd like to hear you say her name again. It's just as electrifying as when you bellow her villain name in fury.

She swears that the dead heart inside her chest beats for a moment.

She comments nothing. She doesn’t enjoy the dalliance your words seem to imply, doesn't like how the air between you becomes thick with something that inspires hunger. She physically turns away from you.

“I've finished patching you up. Rest is the only thing you can do now. With your regeneration, you should be back to normal conditions.”

She packs up the various medical items, slotting the items into their respective containers. She's about to get up and put them away when your hand catches her wrist, a frail grip that she can effortlessly wrench herself out. She doesn't however.

“Do you have… anywhere else for me to rest?”

“I've tended to your wounds and you ask for more? How selfish can you be, Rover?” She frowns.

“The blood makes it feel… sticky.”

“You need to wash off the blood.”

“Well… considering I can't move my arms or legs…”

You're going to make her burst a blood vessel.

“Know that your death will be excruciating,” she sighs, and you give her a cheeky grin that she wants nothing more than to rip off your face.

She scoops you up into her strong arms, carrying you as firmly yet tenderly as possible in order to not aggravate your wounds. She takes you upstairs to a hallway, turning to the closest door. She seats you on the edge of the bathtub and turns on the faucet, letting the tub fill with hot water. She exits the room, presumably to grab some extra clothes and towels. She returns with exactly that, setting them down on the sinker counter.

She picks you up again, seating herself first squarely in the tub before you're placed on her lap, your back towards her.

“I'm going to have to remove your pants.”

“Seems unfair if I'm the only one that's going to be naked.”

“Do not make me stain my walls with your blood tonight. I prefer not having to clean up the mess.”

“You already have to clean up the living room, what's one more?”

She shuts you up with a loud tearing noise as she slits down the seams until finally you're left exposed to her. You gasp, squeezing your thighs. Arlecchino takes note of this, a small smile disappearing on her lips the moment it appears. Once she peels the pant sleeves off of you, she tosses them carelessly onto the bathroom floor. She retracts her claws to rub off the dried blood on your back, a long exhale escaping her as she gapes wordlessly at all the scars and faded bruises that scatter your back.

“No bath bomb?” You whine–yes, a full grown hero whining about a bath bomb–which quickly interrupts her stare.

“I'm not wasting one on you,” she says.

Although Arlecchino can't see it, she knows that you pout.

Thankfully for the rest of the time she cleans the blood off, you hold back on any more suggestive quips. Arlecchino shuts off the faucet and dries you off without another word, dressing you in a satin robe. She turns, quickly removing her own wet clothes and donning proper dry ones. When she returns her gaze on you, you seem oddly flustered–ah, she forgot she had an audience. If you appreciated her bare self, you had said nothing about it.

She hoists you into her arms again, marching down to the room right next to, which is a bedroom, and you’re placed onto the soft bed. You waste no time indulging in the mattress before you stop.

“Wait, isn't this your bed?”

“Indeed,” she says nonchalantly after she shuts the lights, sliding under the covers beside you.

“But, wait, you, don't you, don't you… have anywhere else?”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Well… it's just… you're not going to kill me when I'm asleep right?” You chuckle though the unease is evident in your words. Arlecchino grasps your chin, making you face her. Your face is only a hair's breadth away from hers and she feels your hot breath against her lips.

“Do not mistake me. When I kill you, it'd be when you're awake and beaten by me alone,” she whispers huskily. She lets go of you, and turns to the side, her back facing you.

She can feel your eyes burrow into her. She pays no mind.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #edgeray.writes

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ikeubi · 4 months

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i bet on losing dogs 🕷 jake sim

📰 t͟h͟e͟ ͟o͟n͟e͟ ͟t͟i͟m͟e͟ ͟j͟a͟k͟e͟ ͟f͟a͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ ͟t͟o͟ ͟s͟a͟v͟e͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟.͟ spiderman!jake 𝔁 fem!reader ╱ inspired by gwen's fall in tasm ; major angst, (descriptions of) character death, and overall the regular mcu warnings

Jake Sim never turns his back on a promise he's made.

When you first found out he was New York City's Spider-Man, he swore to you that he'd keep you safe from the dangers that came with being associated with his masked persona.

Out of all the promises he's made, that was the very last one he wanted to break.

Yet here he was.

The masked boy was high on adrenaline as he chased after the villain Goblin among the multitude of buildings in the city.

His energy was beginning to wear off until Goblin tilted his glider to the side for the shortest bit of time, which was more than enough for Jake to catch your hair peeking out along with the look of horror seen in your eyes as the villain's gloved hand kept you from screaming.

The vigilante swung past the buildings faster and faster.

One building.

Another.

And another.

This went on until his enemy maneuvered his glider to the top of a clock tower, Jake making his way up with great speed.

For whatever reason it may be, the Goblin just hovered merely a foot away from the masked hero's spot on the tower, his metallic green mask covering the glances he took at the overly daunting, deep inside of the structure.

Jake eyed his movements nervously and with hesitation, his gaze going back and fourth between you and the villain.

You felt the hand clasped against your mouth move to cup your cheeks as the man's laughter boomed.

"What are you waiting for, spider boy?" you heard him taunt as he moved your face from side to side.

Your gut filled with dread about what the Goblin had up his sleeve and shifted your gaze to the hero clad in red and blue.

Jake seemed to be sensing that something about to happen was even worse than the present situation as he shifted to a more alert position, eyebrows furrowed behind his mask.

"Come and get her," he continued before swiftly pushing you off his glider.

Jake's eyes widened as he immediately followed your trajectory into the tall clock tower. "No!" he screamed as the Goblin's menacing laughter echoed through the nearly hollow space.

Jake despises how time painfully slowed down in these moments. Your last moments.

He hated how everything was clearer, how he could focus on the horror displayed on your face and the tears falling from your eyes for a seemingly longer period of time as you plummeted through the tower.

But he could save you, right? He's done it a few times before, and not once has he failed. What makes this life and death situation any more different?

You wanted him to save you. But time wasn't in your favor, nor did it slow down. You didn't have the pleasure of thinking positively and only of what was overt. And you were quite sure of one thing.

Jake Sim couldn't save you this time.

Death never scared you. The only thing that did was the thought of no longer being able to have dreams for your future with Jake, as well as being able to live them.

You didn't want to start fearing the pain. And so you closed your eyes for just a moment, and thought.

You once heard that when you die, the brain stays active for a final ten minutes, letting you relive the most memorable moments of your life. It brought you comfort thinking that you'd get to see Jake smile for a final time, because it wasn't just a hunch──you knew that those last ten minutes would be a period of time that the boy you loved purely consumed.

And so you opened your eyes.

The wind whistled past your ear, and you had a feeling that sooner or later, you'd be reaching the bottom of the building.

You sent one last painful smile towards your masked lover and mouthed the words you knew he would need to hear.

It's okay. I love you.

Jake's eyes pricked with tears as he read the words coming from your lips.

Realizing his pace wasn't going to meet yours soon enough for him to use his arms to save you, he extended his web shooter wielding arm and prayed as he pushed his middle and ring fingers down on the button and as the web formula shot out and clung to your sweater.

Time returned back to its normal speed. Jake thought he saved you and subconsciously smiled to himself.

That was until he heard it.

Crack.

Jake's face dropped as he watched your body go limp under his web, mere inches away from the ground.

His hands trembled while he pulled the white string back to hold you in his arms as he landed on the ground.

He quickly took the mask off his head and scanned your face for the slightest of twitches, searching for a sign that you were still alive.

"Y/n," his voice trembled as he shifted on his knees, hand pushing your hair back before using two fingers to check the pulse on your neck.

"No," he muttered to himself after a few seconds, unable to find a pulse.

Teary eyed and refusing to give up, he reached for your wrist to try and see if he could feel the pumping of blood from there.

Still none.

Other wrist.

None.

Chest.

None.

Maybe he can check your breathing?

No. None.

Stop.

Jake pulled back slowly after it sunk in that you really weren't breathing, that you really didn't have a pulse, and that he was really unable to save you.

His eyes rimmed with tears as he watched the color drain from your face against the deafening silence of the night's aftermath.

"No," he shook his head before shaking your figure.

"Y/n, wake up,"

"Come on,"

"No you're not dead. You're not,"

A cycle of words of denial continued until the dam finally broke and his tears rolled down continuously.

His sobs echoed through the clock tower. He couldn't let any more words out. His chest hurt and so did his throat.

As he broke down for possibly the first time in his life, the only thing he could think to do was hug your figure.

He stayed like that until dusk turned to dawn.

You were the one person Jake would've traded the world for just to keep alive.

And he'd never forgive himself or never forget how he kept the world safe in return for your life.

꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ mail !

i may have gotten a little angst crazy with this one.....but i still hope it was good! writing this hurt a little though, lowkey :(.

#〻 ikeubi ‹3 #𝜗𝜚written by julia #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen angst #enhypen au #enha x reader #enha imagine #enha angst #enha au #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagine #jake sim angst #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagine #sim jaeyun angst #jake enhypen x reader #jake enhypen angst #jake enhypen imagine

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anantaru · 2 years

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THREE SECONDS

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — as your relationship was ready to take the next step, itto wanted you to meet his granny who had raised him for the majority of his life and was beyond thrilled to show you where he grew up in as a child, or especially how cozy his old bedroom seemed to be.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — this fic stems from a little thirst i wrote a while ago and since i adored that idea so so much i just had to make a whole one shot for it, didn’t expect it to get so long though, still, enjoy! <3

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 5.9k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, messy, whiny itto but also rough itto, riding, fingering, he's insatiable, the horny took him hostage, slight size difference (i mean he's huge), semi! public + his granny is next door preparing dinner.

arataki itto, the one, the only— a man, who could never be easily defeated in the eyes upon his very self.

by the same token, he, in no circumstances regarded anything as a real believed problem which he would have to face in his life sooner or later on, to a higher notice, was he someone who'd pick out the clear positive in most heeded aspects and proceed to give his furthermost, unswerving best.

for you, he was everything and anything, all at once. The bordering, ingrained proximity between you both could have been esteemed like a mind altering drug— neither of you was marginally capable to keep a distance between each other, not when your relationship carried on to bring forth the best of your abilities.

arataki itto— the love of your life, your soulmate, a man who, to the actual core, triumphantly won your heart and sung a promise to protect it from danger of any kind.

be that as it may, tonight, your entire relationship had all gotten a different meaning in his life because of an undisclosed exponent, itto came into hazardous contact with his first real enemy in a long time— the name of the weighty villain was well known, ponderously soliloquized upon the brimming nations of teyvat, the revolting mischief;

anxiety.

now, to remain logical and give the full picture— today was the prized day where you were going to lastly make acquaintance with the person who had raised him for the larger number of his being— his granny, who graciously took him in as a little oni and fondly watched after him with peerless faith and love in this world.

and despite that, unbeknownst to itto, you were, without no holds barred, feeling the same level of distress. It wasn't unnatural to sought after such a devoted step in a relationship— on the flip side can it become undoubtedly frightening and alarming, singularly when it was a striking indicator to remark just how dead serious you both conceived your relationship and its fancied continuance.

when the evening befell the nation of inazuma in its brilliant illustrious artistry, you had met up with your timid boyfriend to then, fidgety stride to his grannies small sized house which had been a partially shade far outside of inazuma city.

your zooming thoughts— like cannon balls, were in abysmal need of required relaxation, in reality, you truly had no reason to be this frightened because even though you had never met her prior to this day, you heard nothing but subliming wonderful deeds about the woman in question, her accepting care and understandings, the way she did not see any differences in humans and oni— viewing them as equal.

"hey no sleeping!" itto suddenly barks, "wait wait are you feeling sick? we can turn around and sit for a while." oh, he sounds nervous but you insist you're fine, because truthfully, you had just reached your destination and you won't be defeated by something as insignificant as nervousness— it's alright, yet you wonder if your hands could please stop sweating so much? ignore it ignore it, there's no way back now.

in front of the door made of otogi wood, your boyfriend lessened his handsome face to meet you, holding your pretty eyes with his diamond shaped pupils. You easily allow yourself permission to cross the fleeting words in your thoughts to run over his question, what he had asked was indeed chucklesome, in a way that you weren't for certain if the spelled out sentence was solely pointed towards your person or if he was in reality questioning himself. "yes i'm alright— are you though?"

the jocular idea of turning around did not cross your mind, not when you came this far and speaking forthcomingly, the pronounced concern on itto's scrunched expression was much larger and dignified than your own, yet despite that, said tangible worry wasn't one bathed in hesitancy or doubts, more— in an enthusiastic procedure that you were, at last, meeting such an important person in his life.

"of- of course i am!" he blabbers, "do i not look okay?!" yeah.. he must be thoroughly relaxed, right? that must be the obvious case, though he was actively waving his hand in the air— yet in front of his cheeks, he made sure he's covering himself, so you wouldn't get a singular chance to catch him blush in a full scarlet pitch, "why— why the hell shouldn't i be?"

"you seem nervous." you bluntly stated but teased, firmly deepening the eye contact and archons, how flustered itto could become when you won't tear your enthralling eyes off him, "— or scared." you carry on to unfitly taunt your lover, sneakily drawing down a firm grin but leaving your brows quirked up light heartedly, "whenever you're experiencing one of those two emotions, your voice gets a little higher, you know?"

"wha-" he interjects, "it doesn't!" for a crisp second, itto came to terms with his graspable frame of mind— because why should he hide his agitation from you? and then the straightforward tension that had been viciously eating him up from the inside out ceased to exist, "not true!" now, come now, "not me!" it had blurred itself out when he got ruminated with a sudden contagious laugh from you while caressing his arm to soothe his worries once more.

"yeah, i can see that." these are some mean turn of events to play with your boyfriends sensitive feelings like that, he figured, so he let his strong hands shelter your soft cheeks in a heart beat, "i'm never scared of anything." he's unnerved, back to his confident self.

"never ever ever, in a million ever never years!"

"you're crazy." you laugh and offer him a signature smile, freely blustering out a sheltered breath as you humanely lean into his left palm— itto flashes you his pearly white teeth and his thumb was lightly tapping on your plump bottom lip before placing a sensual kiss on top.

curiously enough, he never missed the chance to do that, to flip his thumb over your lips with a large smile, so he could lead you through what he was originally planning to do— to smooth you.

"lets get moving m'lady." he refrains, behaving a split amount differently, in all respects energized, "we're already in front of the door."

"you know what i meant!" he pipes up in an immediate rebuttal while angrily stomping his feet on the ground, banteringly pinching your hip, "ouch!" you loudly squeak out in surprise but itto was quicker— because he directly then knocked on the wooden door so you couldn't get back at him without letting his granny see it too.

his coruscating eyes, they expectantly bunch up while actively awaiting for his granny to open the large door to his childhood home, the place, were no matter what past memories, whether good or bad, had been crafted.

"dear, is that you itto?" you paid attention to an older ladies puny asserting voice upon a small space between door and frame, revealed was a short and on the face of it, feeble woman, appearing from behind. "granny! oh granny!" itto loudly cheers and muses, "you sure took your time granny!" this was an all in all cherished attribute you treasured about itto's entire personality— while surely, it by no means has been spread amongst the crowds that he was known for his loud and sparkling persona, but observing his innocent delight when encountered with his parental figure, openly fostered a total gladden in you— it's because you love him, just how he was.

in redirected regard of your own self, you didn't dare to move a single inch— as if frozen to the cold ground, though be that as it may, you could proceed with your reasoning and refer to it as the 'not well regarded accessory' to your continuous pestering tenseness that wickedly sauntered through head to toe.

but on a positive note, it was beneficial enough for itto to be this tall and large in comparison to your own frame, meaning you were capable to easily slip behind his back in hiding.

"this is who i've been telling you about." damn it, a genuine smile plucked the outer region of his lips as he largely stepped aside to reveal you like a gift from the heavens, his hands embarrassingly pointing towards you.

before you can say anything at all, itto had gladly taken over the role of the awkward introduction process himself and introduced you to his lovely granny.

again, thanks to the electro archon for your perfect boyfriend.

"it is such a deep pleasure of meeting you, dear." whatever it may be now, the woman conveyed an immediate tranquillizing quell which had brightly subdued your tensed muscles. "the pleasure really is all mine, miss!" extending your hand to her, she slowly lunged forward to shake it as you introduced yourself again.

now, in retrospect, this entire time, you had been tremendously nervous— highly strung, repeatedly shifting in your shuddering stance from left foot to right foot, right foot to left foot, though now, as you walked into her small home— with itto being a gentleman and closing the door shut behind you both, you at present had felt like you were truly welcomed in her abode.

(major mental sticker for the next time: don't let the useless negativity consume your goddamn mind, okay?)

well, back to business.

throughout the time, itto's sizable hand was, no matter what, situated solidly on the region above your behind, lovingly stationed on your lower back while he guided you to the homely warm and restful living room.

when you listlessly skimmed through the many decorations of the place, you discovered a framed picture of itto as a child next to his granny, it wasn't difficult to see their emotions through the stilled memory, both were marvelously happy and utterly fulfilled— grateful, with a squishy onikabuto plushie being sponged and pressed into itto's chest.

how long have you been staring at the frame? you can't recall, but fortunately to you, you got drawn back to the present reality when your boyfriend pinched your arm. His grandma— such a warm hearted lady, had affectionately assembled two beverages meant for you as she further beckoned you two to take a seat on the mellow couch.

"this is quite embarrassing." she weirdly was in a panicked stance about something rather awful, even going as far as to idly enclose her slender arms around herself, shaking, "what is it granny? are you sick?"

itto pucks himself into the seat with concern, yet striving to stand up right again and aid her in whatever was the critical problem at hand, "oh no! dear." she worrisomely shakes her head and her cheeks irradiated a scarlet tint, "but the dinner isn't ready yet!"

"that's all?!" itto exhales enormously from his chest— to a greater extent, one could say he was about to pass out from the thought of having something serious happen without him being in on it. Despite your rocky state of emotions from beforehand, you were now hopeful and viewed this polished opportunity as your sweet time to shine.

"can i be of help?" you bring forth self assured confidence in your tone color, "i might not be as skilled as you but i can try!" sliding the glass back on the coffee table, you were ready to get up and aid in the kitchen— it was not a big deal and you were always happy to help, especially when it was someone who was regarded as the closest family member to your boyfriend.

having said that, the wishing reply you had longed for, wasn't actually what happened, "there's no need dear." she sweetly giggled around her words, being truly flustered to the core by your sweet attempt to help her out, pretty much warming up with you already— you were lovely in her eyes, "and i'm certain itto desperately wants to show you around, isn't that right?"

you, of course, won't argue with that, "so damn right!" itto was full of happiness, and now, he's pushing himself up from his seat, additionally inviting you over to grab onto his hand so he could lead you around everything, "there's much to show after all!" with your hands quietly placed on your thighs, you feel nothing but giddy and take his palm, but rationally, you'd rather spend time with her so you could get to know her better.

that certainly was the best idea, but inside of you, the sultry skittish feeling of watching itto like that— so happy and excited, was priceless in your very eyes, maybe ... you could sneak in a few fleeting kisses before having to come back, hmmm, this does sound quite bewitching now, doesn't it?

on the way out of the living room, you were met once again with objects from his past, all pridefully shown and displayed around the tiny corridor he was leading you in. Next, on the very left, you found yourself in front of a wooden door that wasn't like any other, it was, quite frankly, messed up with what seemed to be symbols clumsily drawn on with a bunch of pencils— very itto typical, you humbly added.

"there we go." he's so excited, happy, euphoric— are there any other ways to possibly describe his emotions right now because in itto's perspective none of them were doing it justice, "the room of a real oni!"

"aww!" you accept the entry and let him close the door, leaving you both sheltered in place. his room was bigger than you had actually expected; a small, cleaned bed lovingly decorated with two larger plushies on top— one specifically caught your eyes, it was the same one that you saw earlier on the picture with his grandma, the onikabuto exemplar, while the other was funnily resembling a ruin guard of some sorts?

without much to say, both were worn off, he must've played with them in his childhood days.

"what do you think?" he quirks a brow, "to be honest, i was a little worried it wouldn't do me justice." you roll your eyes in the back of your head, what a guy.

at the prospect of being quite the stunner at taunting or playing with your boyfriend, you breathe out euphorically before speaking again, "the bed is so tiny, how little you were itto!"

"tiny?! it's not tiny!" he stomps forward, "this isn't tiny! or is it?"

was this the beginning of a heated debate? not really, but maybe a little. to elaborate himself further without requiring words, itto was swift and eager to carelessly wind away the dear plushies to awkwardly drop his wholeness onto the frail bed and archons— let it be known that the old woman outside had trouble hearing because those damned squeaking sounds were violent, dropping off the walls with an intensity you haven't heard before.

was itto about to break the bed? no no, you suppose. hopefully not.

"looky looky." he thoughtlessly leans back into the silken cushions but props himself up with his elbows so his pretty view on you would turn out even prettier, "it's large, just like me." — how can this man be for real sometimes, you wonder, snorting out a silly laugh on how impossibly comical he looked right now, with the majority of his legs hanging out of the bed frame.

"it sure does." you feign your engaging sentencing, silently getting close and walking towards him to sit, somewhere— which, uh, wasn't possible because he took the entire space.

literally, how could he not?

so, instead, you had, emphasizing heavily on the 'had', resulted to therefore straddling his hips with your thighs on each side of him. You're leaning forward and to that— your dress instantly responded with unknowingly pining up and revealing more of your smooth legs. Due to this unseen course of events, itto thumbed down entirely, now laying flat with you mounting on top.

the shallow heave that unbuttons from his throat when you declined your head to sweetly plant a semi innocent kiss on his lips, it was overflowing with tension, beyond wishing, so he leaned in— one kiss, two, one more? perhaps a couple.

in a profound refrain, you found yourself relaxed, making out with itto, still largely gentle and shy— if only he wouldn't have began to skim over your body with his hands, up and down in circles, his palms were seizing the movements of you, heatedly glissading over your exposed skin until looming them further back to greedily grab a fistful of your flesh and knead your ass to drag you close.

on purpose or not? but your cunt was now directly brushing on top of his member.

"mmh." you inaudibly whimper into his mouth as you coincidentally rub down on his groin, "ah— i'm sorry." he speaks and unexpectedly drags your pussy over his hidden cock. "fuck-" normally, you're so so careful— fuck, you wouldn't, right? do it on purpose, never.

amusing, you, as a matter of action, did not miss how tensed up itto was, how overwhelmed with the budding pressure in his pants.

how ... he was in his old bedroom, giving his almost painfully growing erection the thing it desired, from you, his cute darling. His breathing had been erratic while his digits further altered your flesh to keep you stilled but surely pressed right on top of his swelling cock.

rationality, here we go, "w-wwwait." his cheeks had a sudden burn with an equal amount of both a higher consciousness of euphoric bliss and clear embarrassment, itto figures that— archons, he might already be done for, the 'little' problem in his pants, how was he supposed to get rid of it before dinner?

"sorry." you cheekily coo and bit your lip back at him, "but you're comfy." cozily wrapping your arms around his neck, maybe another kiss will do it, so you sloppily go down and pull away with a sharp tug on his lower lip. You smile, although sheepish, "we should get up." and whisper the evident.

but unmistakably, if you would've acted out on what you were manifesting, or that you were more than certain you had wholly slicked up your thin panties by now— sensing them stick on your core, you would've blindingly leaned in to whatever you were attempting to do this second.

"wait." oh? this tone was different and you liked it— remembering the cause of it too. Much deeper was the timbre and not in his usual airless color, because itto was dead serious in his shaking utterance, a single word demonstrated a devilish command, "i'm a little—" you follow his eyes with your own and watch the mess in between your sticked together bodies— your dress had been draped up even more and was now pressed up, resting right above the beginning of your ass while itto's pants were extremely tight.

he embarrassingly looks up at you with hesitancy, "oh you know- i think i need a second." and he forcefully exhales his words from his tight chest, "but you are- fantastic." and prolongs his trembling heave right after, "and warm." while he closes his eyes, only a short amount because he had to catch your hips and stop them when you tried to move.

"what are you?!" he groans so loud, too loud— shameless, as you were quick to shush his noisy tongue with your hand clutched around his needy mouth, "shhh, don't talk." you coo, "don't say anything." and he listens carefully, with wide opened eyes, nervously gulping down the assembled saliva, "let me help you out, okay baby?"

finally, fucking finally, he thought, "c-careful." itto mumbles into your hand as you used your other to clumsily open up his pants— pulling down his, with pre cum drowned, boxers, at last freeing his erect cock that was plopping out of the garments.

it's heavy, shading red and the deep blue'ish broad veins on the underside of his girth left nothing left for imagination— your mouth practically watered at the filthy, sinful sight, but it's so tasteful and you wanted to please him right away, maybe suck him off and let him fuck your face, but now— not now, his grandma was literally in the next room and preparing dinner for you, right, almost forgotten!

lets just get this quickly over with and help your handsome boyfriend with his not so little problem— later on there was still additional time, you can always fuck at home, real messy and loud— leaving yourself to him so he was able to pump his seed into you and let it ooze out again.

"ah- baby." his voice sounded impatient and a bit whiny, "it hurts." he grits his teeth and his cheeks burn up, he lifts his hips and softly grinds into you while keeping you down, his face was incredibly red and even the tip of his ears had now visualized the exact same color. There's no way he didn't spend time to think about it too— about the shared fantasy, about pistoling his cock deep into your spongy cunt, it makes him question himself if he can actually pull it off, in this small room with the bed squeaking at every move.

the delirious flutter was risky, but worth it?

"okay, you know what?" he spills out, chasing more relief, "just the tip." he whines, "only the tip, please!" you curiously readjust yourself to rut your cunt on him— on the brink of turning brainless yourself. "you know we wouldn't stop." but the mental image of his tip splitting you roughly had you close your legs around his body, shoving your pussy on his bare cock again.

"but it hurts-" and you shake your head, just wanting to scream that it hurts you too, "i know baby but we can't."

one hundred percent a bad idea— that's what it was in an outer perspective, but how could you ignore his mushroom tip leaving itself get messed up by your arousal— how now, he nudged himself into the flimsy material of your panties to rub his length within your folds, spreading them apart, loving your wet cunt, "five seconds." you can barely hear him say it, "just five seconds." archons, where were the infamous rational thinking skills when you were in dire need of them?

fuck this, rightfully so, "three." now, you start to bargain for the tasteful prize, "four." and itto was determinedly stammering right back at you while his mouth was still covered by your hand. You both cannot believe each other, truly, how desperately needy you were, at this point barely caring anymore when he slowly bumped his drenched cock into your pussy— your underwear by now fully slipped to the side.

"three seconds!" — "oh man .. fine."

you drop your weight before he could finish his words, catching him so off guard was rare in it's own glorious state and you‘re taking his tip further, making the man underneath you deeply groan into your hand. "shut up itto!" you laugh and embarrassingly snort a little, "i'm sorry!" this whole lively situation had a comical sense to it because when else are you fucking your boyfriend in his old bedroom— in a bed that was way too small for any of you, but maybe that's the fun part of being this close together, fusing your skins as one.

you go silent, overwhelmed and shaking, to counter attack your natural body reactions you forcefully bite down on your bottom lip to withstand the upcoming moans, "fuck, fuck!" for comfort, you lean into him as his tip naturally slips in and out of your warm pussy, in and out, in and out, catching a glimpse of his already hooded eyes. "only the tip." you jokingly repeat, "mhm the tip." he moans back into your hand while you felt him drool on you— because there you were flaunting your tits at him, rigidly pressing them into his chest with your pointy nipples finding friction.

itto shuts his eyes on the sprouting frustration closing around his belly, "mhm, i can't believe this." he almost laughs, as if to ease you both down in his own silly ways, "me neither." he further molds his hands over your hips to hold you in a precise way. Truthfully, your trembling thighs were burning and sore, firmly splattered with arousal and exposed to him.

the position you were currently in wasn't kind to you, if anything it was becoming harder to remain focused so you wouldn't end up suckling in more inches without realizing.

you carefully move away your hand and give him enough space to breathe more sizable and damn— the sight in front of you was a fucking longed one, downright unreal, it wasn't able to be somewhat framed or painted into words.

itto whatsoever, his face had spiraled into complete redness, granted, he was trying his utmost finest to be good and not greedy, though the punishing demonstrated fantasy of bulging his cock into your sensitivity was always there— his shaking hands clearly giving it away.

"ah- this is awesome!" itto clears his throat and needfully runs his knuckles over your skin, reaching your behind— two of his fingers ran down to your folds to spread them and leave him with more room to stay inside, "yeah.. this is better." he heaves and you whine because it really does feel better that way— you've been plenty wet by now and if you weren't this patient, you surely would've fucked him into oblivion by now.

you hide your pleased face in his neck, "i can't believe we're doing this." and admit, arching your back a little (for good measure) before slowing one of your hands over his damp forehead where a couple of his hair strands were sticking onto, due to the excessive amount of sweat, "i think I'm dreaming!" though it's stupefying, itto gladly relishes in the smug satisfaction, claiming you one inch further, a bulged type of sweet and honeyed pride was delivered when he let you do it— slurp up one more inch, ambling his hips differently for a finer angle.

you kiss itto's lips to soothe his gravelly groans, in addition to your own squeaky huffed out cries— he's so big and heavy that when you move just a little, it's as if he's strapping you off every single inch of control in your body, as if he's, on purpose, targeting the plushy splotches in your walls.

you grab onto another inch as he passionately groans into your mouth— more please more, bracing yourself, letting his tongue run free into yours, he continues it, pitching his hips further and spreads his thighs to rub you into him while his eyes flicker with lust and so do yours.

you just cannot think straight anymore, it's not possible nor required, you are so fucking fucked right now, both deliriously good and blazingly bad.

itto thinks it still isn't enough, his big cock was tingling in your walls and it should be criminal on how fucking fine your closed insides were, ravenously bordering on him and gripping him— it doesn't even compare to other instances in his life because you both couldn't keep your hands to yourself and wanted to straight up— lose your minds and bodies.

a hiss spills from his throat and it appears like your legs are about to give up on you— your tits too, bounce in tune to your actions and surge eminent bliss into your veins. You find yourself entranced when he crowds you and your toes curl at another easy shove forward.

the painstakingly grab on your hips was to leave bruises, his knuckles turning white and his dick shimmers with your arousal that you sink down further.

you adjust and squeeze around him, bending over when breaking off the kiss, your wet lips twitching in a shameless grin as itto chuckled right under you. The lower side was rammed with your transparent liquids puffing out your pussy— itto's eyes were blown wide and he makes sure to always remember to stretch your ass while you look so adorable above him, creaming on his cock that was now completely clashed into you.

hold on.

what happened to the three stated seconds? or just the tip?

three or none, oh no— not this, please no, archons above please send us mercy because how much fucking time has passed since you started this succulent and mouthwatering gamble?

"fuck— just like that." itto mouths without a single care behind those eyes, "you're the prettiest baby, you know that?" he lifts himself into you and turns the bed into nothing more than a squeaky noisy problem. It could've turned out real embarrassing if not one of you had turned on your hazy braincells.

"itto wait!" you foolishly whine, "shit, too loud!" he bottoms out and smacks his balls into you, remembering the obscene situation as the bed loudly creaked. "shit, shit shit." your mouth clashes onto his with saliva bubbling out of the outer parts of your lips. Yet you don't stop, instead you grind your pretty cunt on him and smear his filth over your soft walls.

"do you think?" you're concerned for the obvious, stilling yourself, "no no, don't worry baby." itto speaks up, "are you sure? we were very loud right now." he captures your body in between his arms to twitch inside your core, you on the other hnd never adjusted to his large dick— you just couldn't stop pulsing on his length, it's swilled with your liquids. "i got you, i'm sure she didn't hear anything."

while you do want to place your greatest trust into him, you weren't stupid, but amidst the sinfulness of it all, you nod your head at him. "we need to finish this quickly." whispering from above, your warm breath fans over his skin.

itto doesn't answer, there was no need for it, not now at least. He reaches up to lift your chin to lead you towards his lips and you cry into the sloppy kiss while his other hand dampened down on your folds, roughly stimulating you with his knuckles. "i- fuck, i-got-you." he finally says in between groans and urges you to continue, "i'll make you cum on me." his words came out in a stitched together grunt.

his mind— it was gone and clouded and another moan leaves him right after at the galvanizing sight of you. Itto braces himself and leads you to heaven, it's overbearing and frustrating, but the new punctuated jolts were closing down on your sensitive cores, they were tempting and pressing on your beating thuds.

all you could think of was for him to please please go faster, but it wasn't possible, not anymore. okay, well, it was but, you would equally be busted and you were sure the embarrassment of being caught by his fucking grandma during the act alone would give you terrible nightmares for years on end.

his knuckles dig into your shining folds and rub you fiercely while taking you with his cock. By how rough itto was fucking you now you had to close your hand around his mouth again so he could freely grunt and moan— vocalize his pleasure to you so you can latch onto him finer, constrict on his shaft and milk him dry until he's wet of a white ring of arousal, the clear determination to finally cum was genuinely all you both could think of.

you cry yourself into his shoulder when he pulls you to him, fisting his palms into your draped up dress to practically rush you back and forward— using you as a fucktoy to drench his cock in. His hips are stuttering and you knew he was close— because in truth, you were too, the continuous intrusion of his sensual tip on your pleased insides felt so fucking fine you thought you were actually going to tear up from it.

it's when it began to burn as he continuously smacked his hips into you, both tightly squished into each others embrace and melting into your bodies. You were drooling on your entire chin and then it happened, bringing you back to the overstimulation which was twice as powerful, twice as deep— pulling out your climax from your strangled rooted core as you violently clenched on his heavy cock, your orgasm thundering over you.

"too much, too much!" you whisper cry on him and itto plants one of his hands on the back of your head to squish you close as he climaxed too, sealing his lips as you pressed your hand into him. "I'm so close— so close so close." his hips were still going but slower, his calloused palm holding you down, guiding you where he required you to release his seed, paint your walls with silken white and calm your inflamed skin.

"fuck!" he moans and his eyes roll back, "inside— im inside you." itto feels empty but fulfilled, the compressed position was in any other occasion insanely unfitting and uncomfortable, but for you there wasn't a better one. His breathing was hot and the entire room smelled of sex and filth, the spilling ropes of cum were seeping right out of you.

the both of you were utterly panting and damn, itto came a lot, cummed as deep as he could and his grunts were still there— low and under the shadowy rasps, leaving it to you to finish him and he relishes in it, entirely, when being milked by a warm cunt such as yours, a claimed one, by him alone.

it's silent before your thoughts come back swirling, heated but never forgotten, you prop yourself with your arms and smile at him, but then it hit you.

"no no." you panic and your eyes glue down on your not so innocent lower region, "we made a mess." he smirks back at you, all puffed out and blowing. "how do we cover that?!"

you lift your hips and are now presented with the post nut problem, vision still glassed up and shaded by how good you were being fucked just moments ago. "wait let me-" itto helps you lay down while he sits up on the bed, his cock limply coated in arousal, "do you need- uh, wait!"

he swiftly searches around the room and finds a towel, hastily handing it to you, "thanks." you shyly mumble, still sore, "how do i look?" you ask him jokingly while fixing your make-up simultaneously to rubbing off the crumbling perspiration on your body.

"like you just had the best orgasm in the world." he sings, putting up his pants while helping you as much as he could. "you're one to talk." you tease, breathless and still hot, pulling down your dress as itto reaches out his arm to you, aiding you to stand up.

a hand falls heavy on his palm and you curse yourself for not figuring out sooner that you were thoroughly sore and done— swelling and used, especially your muscles were burning, searingly aching, "oh— easy now." itto could do this all day, watch you fix yourself after he fucked your brains out— minus the doing it in his old bedroom. His inflated ego breaks records, "are you okay?" but the concern in his voice was sweet, "y-yes."

"lets eat dinner then!" you almost forgot about that.

he rubs his belly and you nod your head in agreement, spouting out a wheezy laugh while you began to fix his hair, "— and hope your grandma didn't hear a thing." and end his sentencing at last.

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thisisxli · 3 months

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𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. - 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁.

Rs: Pro! Katsuki Bakugou x Pro! GN Reader(afab)

Warnings: manga spoilers, ANGST, grief, slight panick attacks, MAJOR character death mention(not canon but is canon..), heart break

Tags: bittersweet, different circumstances, reader is kind of a crybaby but for good reasons, time/dimensional travel, reader is hopelessly in love with him + will hopelessly be stuck on him for the rest of their life, Katsuki is equally or more in love, reminiscing, everyone is in their early 30s

Summary: Being hit by a quirk is one thing. But to be sent to another universe is absolutely bewildering. It starts to become heart-wrenching when someone you once knew as dead is now alive in this alternate universe.

wc: 1.1k

Recommended song:

a/n: if you enjoy this work, check out the others in my Masterlist. :)

Being hit with a quirk usually didn't phase you, it was rather common for you.

But to be sent to a whole other timeline- or rather... universe? You knew it was the same timeline but different universe. Why? Because Katsuki Bakugou was standing right in front of you- with another you holding his hand, both staring at you in surprise. In fact, it wasn't just them. But other old classmates from the high school you used to attend. Shocked faces as the other you ushers them out the room. You couldn't move your gaze away from Katsuki at all. Because the Katsuki you knew was dead. To see him standing, more mature, a grown man ridden with scars has you bawling rather quite embarrassingly.

"Hey! Who the hell- wait no.. What-" Katsuki's head turns to you and the other you aggressively, confusion and agitation growing into his face. Before he could blow at your crying figure, the other you steps up in front of you, hands held up in defense. "Katsuki! Don't.. resort to that. Let's be calm and rational.. Let's.." The other you turns to you, a worried expression displayed on their features. "Let's just talk."

And so, that's what you did. You explain how you were in the middle of battling a villain just before you got hit by their quirk. Kirishima and the other pros must be worried about you right now.

"And... Bakugou," your breath hitches, eyes flickering to him for a second, "in my universe.. You died. You died in the war from All For One... or rather, Shigiraki." Katsuki stiffens at the mention of that familiar yet foreign name. So did other you. The... other Kirishima rubs your back soothingly. "Edge-shot wasn't able to repair your heart.. it.. it- after you died, I couldn't- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you mutter, bowing deeply at his feet as you squeeze your eyes shut tight, tears escaping through and past your eyelids. Your breathing rapidly increases which Katsuki quickly picks up before Kirishima does, grabbing you under the arms gently, lifting you up to sit back to your position. The other you seemed almost heart-broke at the thought of dead-Katsuki, sharing their sympathy.

Katsuki was silent the whole time, a calm expression on his face. You barely saw that back in high school. You wonder how he is at this time of age.

"Kiri, let's go," the other you urges, waving a hand at Kirishima. They give you a soft smile before walking off and out the room with the red spiky haired man. You and Katsuki sit there in silence, a few silent tears escaping your face at the view of your.. dead crush/classmate? You didn't even know anymore. "Stop your crying," Katsuki scoffs, closing his eyes. You blink at him. Seriously? Maybe he was still the same- "I hate seeing you cry," he looks into your eyes, raising his hand to your face to wipe a tear with his thumb, "it makes me upset." Wait- woah. Were.. you two together?

You blush heavily, wrinkling your pants when you tighten your hold on it. He notices of course, waving your hand away. "I don't know if you're just realizing we're together," wow. He reads you like a book. "But if you are just now realizing it, you need to get that brain of yours checked."

Same old, same old. You snort before laughing, earning a soft scowl from him. "Tell me.." Your laughter dies out, tilting your head to listen, "how is it like.. without me there?" You blink at him, smile dropping quickly. "Well.. It's... empty, at least for me, always has. A lot of us are doing fine there, it's like.. you never existed," his face turns sour from that, "but you are brought up time to time.. and we celebrate the day you died- not that we're celebrating that you died! But.. you were honestly," you look up at him with adoring eyes, "one of the greatest heroes of all time. So we felt the need to celebrate the day of your self-sacrifice."

Katsuki looks at you, unable to comprehend on how to respond to that. Luckily, when nothing comes to mind, you ask him a question, "how did.. we..? How did you.." He chuckles, running his scarred hand over his hair. "I confessed first, if that's what you're asking. We started dated in our second year and have been ever since," his eyes avert down to the golden ring on his finger and your eyes also follow, "and we.. got married. about six years ago."

You look up at his face, his face contorting into a softening loving look. You never seen this side of him before at all. Your feelings that you never lost for the boy, now man, seems to grow a little more.

You both flinch when a weird swooshing sound comes from behind you, a portal comes into your view when you turn. Out pops is a way much more familiar red spiky haired man. "(Y/N)! You-" suddenly his voice breaks and stops working, staring at the grown blonde man in front of you. "Bakugou," Kirishima breathes, tears seeping from his tear ducts, threatening to fall. Now it was time for you to cry. You shake your head violently, jumping into Bakugou's arms, catching him by surprise. "N-no! I don't- wait please! I don't want to go yet! Not yet, not yet! Please- Katsuki! I have so much to say- so much to ask! Please-" Katsuki kisses you in an open mouth kiss, hands gently caressing your face and hair.

Heat rises to your cheeks as tears fall, his warm lips detaching from yours. "That always works," he chuckles softly, looking up at Kirishima with a fond smile before looking down at you with his piercing eyes that held so much love, the same you held for him. "(Y/N), I am so, so sorry that I'm not there. I really am, for everybody. If you had more time, of course I'd answer anything you'd ask. But let me tell you this," he gently pecks your forehead gently, as if on cue, the other you walks in with a small Bakugou clinging onto their leg. Your lip bobbles at the sight. "I love you. I always did, have, and will," Bakugou wraps his arms around you, smiling at the now-crying Kirishima from your universe. Even with Katsuki's voice being so soft, his voice still remained so gruff. His voice was like hearing music for the first time in years. Something you hadn't heard in years.

Before you step through the portal, you look back at the happy family, all three smiling at you. You smile back, feeling a little bitter that you couldn't have this ending. But nonetheless, you were happy that another part of you still got this ending. You felt closure. Now that you know that he still survived from the war, you were a little happy.

Only that it was just from another universe. Not yours.

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habaritess · 1 month

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Is Claire Bear one of the villains of The Bear? Part 1

This is going to be kind of long, so I decided it'd be better to cut it up into 2 parts.

Recent discussions on here about Claire and Donna (@currymanganese, @thoughtfulchaos773) has got me really thinking about her character. I find it was weird how the majority of the people in The Bear have such a high opinion of her, and yet what we the audience see from her short time on screen is someone much more grey and maybe even a little sinister. Why sinister? Because Claire seems to have a major lack of conscience and is also incredibly manipulative. If Claire is such a great person like every fricken character seems to believe, then why do the writers create a character that has this many alarm bells?

I wanted to “understand” it.

I believe the first warning signs of Claire was that story she told about her childhood. A childhood friend broke her arm and while all the other kids were scared and panicked, Claire was calm. Carmy assumed it’s because she wanted to learn how to fix her broken arm so that she can help her, but Claire said she wanted to understand it. The graphic injury made her want to understand it. Let that sink in. The other kids were disturbed by the injury and no doubt also by the cries of the injured girl. Claire wasn’t. She was mentally disconnected from the scene because her empathy wasn't activated. Instead, she chooses to analyze the broken arm as if it isn’t connected to a fellow playmate. I suspect that this story Claire tells explains exactly what kind of person she is. She looks at people as a thing to analyze, and she does so in order to get what wants from them.

We get an example of how she observes other people when she correctly guesses what Carmy named his restaurant. Carmy is completely shocked. When you watch the show, you get the impression that Carmy was infatuated with Claire while they were growing up, but they weren’t close. Definitely not close enough to the point where Carmy would have spoken to Claire about what he would name his hypothetical restaurant, but Claire is quite confident that Carmy had once “told” her. He never did. I suspect that Claire has been observing Carmy, just as she has been observing many people, and she guessed what he would have named just by what she knew of him. In one way, you could view this scene as a sweet thing, that it is evidence of Claire being secretly in love with Carmy for a long time, but the way the scene was portrayed was not of something sweet( or at least that was my impression of it). In fact, Carmy seemed a little disturbed by it even, and I suspect even he had some small alarm bells going off.

During the whole conversation, Carmy gave off the impression that he was forcing himself to make small talk with an older acquaintance to avoid being rude, but he would rather been anywhere else. He had no intentions of getting reacquainted with Claire, and gave the fake number as a way to dodge any future engagements. Most people would have taken the hint… but not Claire.

Claire always gets what she wants.

It is very common for a person who grew up in abusive, dysfunctional households to find themselves in relationships with abusive individuals. It’s partly because these individuals are drawn to the negative treatment that they are used to and don’t believe they deserve anything better, and also because abusive people are adept at spotting abused individuals, and know who they can and can’t manipulate.

Little observant Claire knows Carm. She probably knew of his past crush on her and knew of his family issues. Carmy used to be way more withdrawn and quiet, lacking any friends, and was probably desperate for any positive attention. Carmy is one easy to manipulate, and Claire knows this and takes full advantage. Claire wants her some Carmy. I don’t believe she always liked Carmy, but I believe she was fully aware of his attraction towards her and probably had Carmy as a possible person to get with in the future if need be. She wanted her some Carmy and shoot her shot, but the first sign of trouble for her was Carmy barely recognizing her. She continued on and got what she thought was his number, only to find out it was a fake. This probably enraged her, and she went on a mission to get him, and get him she does through pure manipulation tactics.

She calls him, the first thing she does is ask him if he gave her a fake number, then informs him that she is “hurt”. This is the first guilt trip. Claire knows that poor, sad, lonely Carmy who grew up in a dysfunctional family that he consistently tried and failed to please, would be horrified at the idea that he let someone down. That they were sad because of him. Claire goes on to inform him that she knows his entire family plus the Faks. This is important. She is informing Carmy that he can’t escape. She is tying him down to her and giving him only a few choices.

Carmy does not confront problematic individuals. He spent the majority of his life living with his alcoholic and narcissistic mother who could never be reasoned with. He learned it was better to withdraw within himself, dissociate, and appease the people around him in order to lessen the toxicity of his environment rather than confront the problems directly. Eventually, he learned the only other way for peace is to cut certain people out of his life, and he did so by cutting off the majority of his family. If he can’t separate from them, he reverts back to his coping mechanism for dealing with his dysfunctional family, mentally absorbing their toxicity and trying his best to appease them, never truly standing up for himself, like he did so with David Shields, the evil chef in his past. Claire took away his option to run away. She knows too many of the people he knows. Her threats trap him with her and he reluctantly accepts he can’t get away from her and rather than be upfront and straight up telling her he can’t deal with her right now, he reverts back to what he usually does and focuses on appeasing her needs. Claire continues on the attack by repeatedly asking him why he gave her a fake number and applying more mental pressure. He denies it and apologizes repeatedly for the mistake, and note that in this scene, she smiles broadly at his apologies. She is loving his groveling and knows she got him where she wants.

He is still the weak Carmy she observed growing up. She still continues on accusing him of giving her a fake number, really laying down the guilt trip. She then asks him if he truly wanted her to have the number to which nonconfrontational Carmy reassures her that he did, but come on. Listen to him. He sounded incredibly unenthused and she had him repeat it twice. She is not stupid. She knows he didn’t want her to have his number. Rather than accept reality, she doubles down. She asks him if he was busy today. Carmy hesitated for bit and was trying to confirm to her that, yes, he was busy, but despite knowing that he was going to decline her, Claire interrupts him, tells him not to make this weird, and asks for a favor. Carmy is guilt tripped into believing he did wrong for giving Claire a fake number and thus denying such a favor would be really wrong. Claire made it such a big deal that she even threatened to have Fak punch Carmy in the face for it, really laying down how disagreeable his actions were to her and that he deserved punishment in some way for it. Carmy is gaslighted into thinking his actions were horrible and now he must make it up to Claire… somehow. He does so by doing what he has learned to do since his childhood. Do what they want no matter what he feels about.

Now that Carmy feels like he owes Claire his attention, they start to make future plans together. Now, Carmy doesn't want to do this with Claire, but feels obligated to do it since he feels like he can’t escape her. On season 2 episode 5, Carmy decides to use the forced time he has with Claire to do something productive for the restaurant. He actually changes their plans to hang out… to go mail their wine permit off. Note here that before he calls Claire, Carmy actually sighs twice and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Note that Carmy shuffles his feet when he is in a situation he doesn’t want to be in, like he did in the beginning of the Christmas episode with his family. He really, really, REALLY doesn’t want to hang out with Claire at all, but forces himself to appease her.

We get another inkling of how emotionally detached Claire is when she brags about being a horrible driver. The girl is a doctor, but she is excited about being a bad driver because of the risks involved. Being a bad driver not only put the driver at risks, but others as well, but Claire does not care about this part. Now one can suggests she is just joking to play with Carmy, but putting what she says in context with other things she said, it fits her personality to not think of others. Carmy attempts to start a conversation with Claire by asking her about her residency. Claire chooses not to answer him and instead tries to throw it back at him, leading to an incredibly uncomfortable moment. One thing I notice about the beginning of this scene is that Claire is clearly annoyed by Carmy’s change of plans. You can see how irritated she is in the beginning of the scene by her head movements and expression, so her dig at Carmy in this conversation was her way of getting back at him.

Claire knows that Carmy is using their hang out time to do something convenient for himself, and she is pissed about it because it’s just yet another sign that he “just not that into her.”

End of Part 1

Part 2

#the bear #claire the bear #carmy berzatto #the bear fx #sydcarmy #carmyclaire #donna berzatto #carmy x claire

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luffyrose · 2 years

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Mistaken - DC x DP

Idk man- this one fully just came to me. So have fun. Cry.

~~~~~~

Another rogue attack.

Bats coming to save the day.

It was a never-ending dance between the two.

Casualties were often low. People got hurt but fewer and fewer people died. Even major injuries had lessened over the years. It wasn't the focus of the villains to necessarily kill people, it was simply a byproduct of their goal.

So why was it different?

Why now?

Sure, Gotham's rogues weren't afraid to kill to gain attention, but this was different. The attack came from nowhere, no sign of it before it had already begun, and when Batman arrived...there was no villain there. Just the destruction in its wake.

He'd been quick to call the others for help searching for injured, and no doubt dead from the destruction, before getting to pulling people from rubble and fires. His kids arrived and did the same until another call came from Oracle. The fire department and ambulances had arrived, so they left it to them.

It had already been nearing the day, so when they finished dealing with some goons, the family had turned in for the night. Yet Bruce couldn't stop thinking about the explosion. The camera's from the building, he'd learned it was a lab of some sort, were far and few, really only showing the entrance. Even then they cut out before the explosion.

The news was talking of it, the owner of the lab was on it by now claiming it was an accident with some chemicals and they were investigating possible causes. He knew it was a lie, and from his children's faces when they heard it, they thought the same.

It didn't take him long to head there, not as Batman, but as Bruce Wayne.

He had planned to speak to the owner of the Lab, he really only remembered he wore a pristine white suit. Parking nearby, and offering help to those he saw as he passed, Bruce slowly made his way toward the main part of the crowd.

A quiet sob and cough made him freeze in his tracks. It was so quiet he doubted anyone would have noticed if they weren't trained. Glancing around, he slipped into the alleyway he'd heard the noise from. It was close to he accident, but far enough away no one would look down it...so why was someone here?

Bruce cautiously looked through the alley, his gaze hardening as he found a smaller figure curled up on itself, trying to hide behind a dumpster.

"Hello?"

The kid, because it really could only be a kid, flinched eyes darting toward him.

And Bruce froze.

Green eyes were staring back at him. Glowing, Lazarus, green eyes. Yet, his eyes were quick to drift from the color to the blood soaking the boy's clothes. Gritting his teeth, he crouched, holding up his hands. He couldn't see the boy well with this distance, but he couldn't risk not finding a way to help the kid.

"I'm not gonna hurt you...I promise."

The glow fluctuated for a moment before the other tried to move, wincing harshly as his arm gave out and sent him careening into the floor. Bruce had moved forward when he fell, worry clear on his face, and when the boy growled, only for it to fade into a whimper, he paused again.

"Let me help you. I can get you to a hosp-"

Panic filled the other's eyes, scrambling further away. "No! No, hospital. No, no, no no nononono-" Bruce kept his face from changing at the boy's voice. It was hoarse as if he hadn't used it or had been screaming.

Putting his hands up placatingly, he carefully shifted on his feet. "Okay. No hospital. But you need help...can I help you?" The boy seemed to be looking for something in his face, maybe a lie, but after a few moments, the kid's head bobbed before he collapsed onto the ground completely.

Taking the moment, Bruce moved beside him, careful not to touch him as he pulled out his phone, messaging Dick and Leslie. She would need to prep for some stitches no doubt from the blood, and he definitely couldn't get the boy elsewhere without some help. As he finished sending the messages, he felt a hand grab onto him weakly. Looking down at the boy, his heart absolutely sunk.

He could see him now. How his black hair fell over his eyes. Blue eyes. The green was temporary, probably powers, but now with those blue eyes, he looked like one of his many children. More specifically...a younger Jason. His heart clenched, gently taking the boy's hand despite himself.

This wasn't Jason...it wasn't.

It was clear the boy had started to grow delirious, his eyes unfocused for the most part, but staring so intently at him.

"...dad...?"

Oh.

Bruce could hear the harsh swallow he did, but smiled softly at the boy. Carefully sitting, he dragged the boy onto his lap, gently moving his hair. "You're gonna be alright..." It wasn't Jason, and he knew that...but that didn't mean he couldn't comfort the boy. If he happened to look like his father...Bruce wasn't going to try and correct him when he was so delirious, not when it may give him some kind of comfort.

He couldn't help the pain in his heart though as the kid practically melted into the touch, unfurling slightly and revealing some of his injuries. It wasn't his kid. It wasn't.

Maybe he could have comforted any of them like this if he'd listened in the past.

Shaking his head, he pushed down the feelings. He couldn't focus on that, not right now. Looking back at his phone, he saw a message, saying Dick was almost there. Part of him hoped he was alone...he knew that probably wasn't the case.

"I'm scared..."

Gazing back toward the kid, he put the phone back in his pocket. Putting his hand on the boy's cheek, he gently rubbed away some tears that had begun to fall. Before he could respond the boy's eyes drooped the little consciousness he had fading. "Hey, come on, try to stay awake." It was no use as the boy drifted off, only the too-slow rising and falling of his chest assuring Bruce he wasn't fully gone.

"Kid, come on you can't sleep yet-"

Two pairs of footsteps came from the entrance of the alley as Bruce tried to wake the boy, glancing back to see his oldest boys. What was slight, but worried, amusement turned to horror the closer they got, seeing the pool of blood. "Leslie is waiting." Without needing to say anything else, Dick was quick to carefully scoop the kid up, looking back to Jason. He seemed shell-shocked, staring at the boy. Bruce couldn't blame him.

They looked so similar.

~|0|~

Danny had...what had he been doing? He remembered the GIW, and lab equipment-

Oh.

The lab.

He had gotten out...but someone had seen him. Where was he now? Fighting to open his eyes, he saw the ceiling of a car. He could also see two older guys. He was in the back seat with his head...on someone's lap? Or was it a ghost? They felt like a ghost...but not.

Frowning, his eyes slowly drifted shut again. He'd thought he'd seen his dad...but, the man had been too kind. His- Jack was...he wouldn't have ever comforted him like that. Not now. Not in the past. Feeling himself drift off again, he felt small tears fall down his cheeks.

Why had his dad never comforted him like this stranger had? Why had he hurt him? Given him to the GIW after he'd told them what he was? If they truly hadn't believed him...if they had thought he was mimicking "their beloved son" then why not do everything they always said they would.

More tears fell, but he felt someone wipe them away again. It was a different hand...it was still rough, but gentler than the other had been. With a stuttered breath, Danny let the darkness take over his mind again. He probably wouldn't have let himself fall asleep again...but he would rather these people who reminded him of his family have him. Hurt him or not...he just didn't want to be alone.

A hum was the last thing he felt, a warmth he couldn't remember having in a long long time rumbling beneath his skin.

~|0|~

Jason had felt something when he'd seen the kid. The pits went quiet before pure worry erupted from them. He didn't know why...but it didn't help that this kid look like him. Looked like that little kid who'd never gotten help.

It didn't help that deep down Jason knew that this kid hadn't either.

He'd ended up carefully cradling his head in the back seats while Dick drove and Bruce messaged who he could only assume was Leslie or the family group chat. Either way, when he felt something wet land on his hand, he hadn't expected the kid to be crying.

Gently wiping the tears, he felt the frown on his face grow. "He's crying." He heard Bruce shifting, probably looking at the two, yet he ignored the other, just wiping the small tears. As he did, a warbling cry made him jump slightly. Glancing toward the other two, he saw the shock on both their faces.

"Well, he's definitely some kind of meta."

Bruce hummed, but Jason simply looked down again. The pit was silent for a moment, the non-stop worry having paused at the noise. So when a rumbling almost purr-like hum came from himself, he almost froze. Almost. His shock had been overrun by how the kid seemed to relax, one of his hands gently grabbing onto him.

"That...that was new."

He didn't need to look to know the two were even more shocked, if not worried. Jason couldn't bring himself to care for once, wiping the last of the falling tears before running his fingers through the fluffy and bloody locks of their mysterious meta-kid.

He wasn't a meta...he knew that deep down as well.

It didn't take long after for them to get to Leslie's clinic, taking the boy inside in a rush. He was quickly moved onto a stretcher and taken into one of the more medically equipped rooms. The three weren't far behind, entering the room as Leslie worked on removing the bloodied clothes, mainly his shirt.

A large y-shaped and inflamed gash met all of their eyes. It wasn't the cause of the bleeding, but it clearly had been done not too long before the large gash next to it. They weren't the only injuries he had, and he'd had plenty if the scars were to say anything. The most concerning was a Lichtenberg scar that stretched from his hand across his entire chest.

None of them had been ready for it. Dick covered his mouth as Jason audibly took a deep breath. Bruce was silent, but from the stare, they knew he was just as horrified.

Leslie was equally as horrified to find a child in the condition he was in, but gritted her teeth and got to work. It took a long time, but the boy didn't stir. She and the others had checked his vitals multiple times just to make sure he was still fine. He was...if the low heartbeat and temperature were normal. The temperature probably was to an extent at least, they'd figured that out after a frost had covered the bed he was on.

Finally, his injuries were stitched, but as Leslie left to get everything he would need the boy bolted upright.

His breathing was heavy, flinging himself out of the bed and into a corner. Jason reacted the fastest, getting over to him and enveloping him in a hug. It was definitely not the right thing you're supposed to do, but he'd done it before he'd even thought about it.

And when the boy's arms tightly wrapped around him, a loud echoey sob being muffled against his jacket he knew it had been the right instinct.

Neither let go nor did they move.

Dick came over, carefully sitting beside them and hugging them both, taking a moment to wipe a tear that had fallen from Jason's face...when had that happened?

With a quiet click of a door opening and closing, Jason buried his head into the younger black-haired boy's head. Leslie wouldn't have had silent footsteps. Bruce had left the room. He didn't know whether he was thankful or not for that. From the brief information, he'd told them, the kid thought Bruce was his dad.

"...I'm sorry..."

Shaking his head slightly, not bothering to lift it, Jason rubbed the other's back.

"Nothin' to be sorry for. You're alive."

Another rumble noise escaped him, but he couldn't bring himself to worry and wonder about it yet again as the kid clung tighter, a similar yet much sadder noise coming from him.

Both could feel the short breath of a small laugh from Dick, who still held them both.

"You both sound like birds, your nicknames pretty fitting now, Jaybird."

A laugh came from the boy, slightly startling the older two. But, it was a welcome sound, the rest of the tense air finally fading.

After a bit of silence, the kid spoke again.

"I think I called your dad my dad."

Jason couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face.

"Just sounds like you're the next sibling to be adopted."

"New baby bird!"

Danny was both incredibly confused and...pleasantly surprised by their words. He knew for a fact they'd seen his powers at some point. But then again, the one he was clinging to, Jaybird if the guy's nickname was to be used, wasn't entirely alive either.

"Honestly I should apologize for thinking he was my dad...he's probably worse."

Jason snorted out a laugh. He probably shouldn't, but damn if the kid with the scars all across his body said it, he was probably right. Dick made the noise he does whenever Jay makes a joke about his death, only causing the kid to look over.

"What, it's a very grave mistake."

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matan4il · 6 months

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Update post:

Today is the 180th day of the war. Almost 6 months since the Hamas massacre started this war. And still, when I came across a video clip of TV announcers broadcasting on Oct 7, 2023 and I heard the words, "hundreds of Israelis have been killed" (even as I know that the number was actually greater than that, something that took time to confirm back in October), it still felt like it just happened, like it's still hard to believe it's real, and not a nightmare that we might wake up from any moment now.

A combined terrorist attack (vehicular and then stabbing) took place over night. A 26 years old Arab man drove his car into 4 policemen, injuring them, one initially was in a serious condition. The terrorist then drove on, stopped by another group of police personnel, where he got out of the car and tried stabbing them. He was neutralized.

Obviously, everyone in Israel has heard about the aid workers killed in Gaza. IDK yet how it happened, what the details are, we're all waiting to hear, just like other fair-minded people are (I'm not talking about the anti-Israel crowd, who have made up their minds before the incident even happened, they come pre-programmed with the belief that everything wrong is both Israel's fault and intentional). For now, it looks like a huge, tragic mistake, based on misidentification in the middle of the night (such mistakes sadly happen. The accidental death of 3 Israeli hostages in broad daylight was an example that it does, and other "friendly fire" incidents that have happened to Israeli soldiers are another. That's war, there's tragically no army with zero mistakes on its record). I am SO sorry for the innocent people killed, and their loved ones. I feel for them, for their pain and loss.

That said, how do I know it wasn't intentional? For one thing, because World Central Kitchen is actually one of the few humanitarian aid organizations that tried to help both Palestinians and Israelis. Which is one reason Israel very much wanted WCK to be a major factor in aiding people in Gaza in the long run, not just during the war, and the last thing it would want, is for these workers to be hurt, and for this organization to stop working there. The other thing is that we know an incident like this might provide enough international pressure to force Israel to stop the war, while our hostages are still held in the hands of brutal rapist terrorists, and while Hamas still exists, and threatens more massacres like the one we saw on Oct 7. What logical country would sacrifice the safety of its 9.8 million citizens (and the 8.4 million non-citizens it sees itself as responsible for, too) just in order to kill 7 random people, who were perceived as helping it, and who aren't even a part of the group that supposedly this country is targeting? It's not a logical call to make. Anyone who thinks Israel did this intentionally, is treating the Jewish state as if it's a comic book evil villain. I wonder why. When a humanitarian aid airdrop accidentally killed at least 5 Palestinians, and at least 18 were killed during another, I don't remember that anyone was quick to say it was intentional without so much as an investigation, or that those responsible for it must be stopped, rather than that they must study what went wrong, and continue while taking precautions that it won't happen again.

In Belgium, a home for Holocaust survivors has been vandalized with supposedly pro-Palestinian graffiti, reading "Gaza free" and followed by a swastika. This is pure antisemitism, very thinly veiled.

Here's a reminder that if Hamas is allowed to continue existing, and ruling Gaza as a dictatorship, that's not just a threat to the lives of Israeli and Jews, it's also horrible news for Palestinians. IDF soldiers found in Gaza documents that reveal how Hamas had tortured and brutally executed one of its own commanders back in 2016, based on the accusation that he's gay. Anyone who claims to be pro-Palestinian, but is silent about the human rights abuses that Palestinian suffer at the hands of their own leadership, is not that at all, they're just exploiting the Palestinians to demonize Jews.

This is 22 years old Dor Almog (right) and his best friend, Amit.

Amit invited him to the Nova music festival, but he had to miss most of it due to an exam he had. Dor planned to study, and then join his friend at the end of the party, but he fell asleep, and was woken up by the sirens alerting everyone about the thousands of Hamas rockets fired at Israel at 6:30 in the morning. "That was the last time I saw Amit," Dor said about the moment his best friend left for the party. "We've been friends since the age of zero." Amit went to the party and was murdered by Hamas terrorists. Dor and the rest of Amit's friends decided to get his tattoo on their body, and that at some point they would travel to India, which was his dream that he didn't get to fulfil. Dor fought to be called for reserves duty in Gaza. He's the only soldier who survived the deadliest incident there, in which 21 Israeli young men were killed, the last operation his unit was supposed to be a part of, before being discharged. When the explosion took place, he was in a building that collapsed, he fell two floors, and the building crashed over him. "I smiled, because I thought I was about to die, and be with Amit again. But then I literally saw a light at the end of a tunnel, and started crawling there." He was kept in a coma for 5 days, to help his body cope, and only 2 days after he woke up, was he told the news about what happened to his friends in the unit. "That was the real blow." When asked about being a hero, he said, "I'll be that when I get back on my feet."

May Amit's memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩

↳ summary: you ask your distant and cold professor for some help with your thesis. good thing he seems to be an expert on fear

↳ warnings: mentions of murder, booze, guns, and some gore. canon type gotham violence. a wiff of stalking maybe?

↳ song: aleph—gesaffelstein

masterlist!

University life wasn't much different than you had expected. Television and movies glam it up to make it sound like the peak of your young adult life. A time for exceeding expectations and drinking cheap booze out of those weird solo cups in a random person's basement. But this was Gotham—where crime is the highest in the country and misfortune runs galore. The closest anyone got to walking into a stranger's basement these days was with the threat of a gun at their back.

In preparation for the quote-unquote finest school Gotham had to offer, instead of going out and buying the list of supplies your school recommended, you simply lowered your expectations. Not like there was much to begin with in the first place. You could get a protractor later.

Your thought process proved to be worth it too. Barely an hour into your first day, the campus was evacuated as a precaution for a major villain sighting in the area. Something about filling up a building with highly dangerous gas. As of weeks later, details still hadn't been released to the public. That was fine by you. All you cared about was not getting ripped away from your precious lunch again.

The campus cafeteria was drafty and smelled of mold, parties were thrown way too often, and most of your professors were stern with classes people only took so they could get their degrees.

In that case, Mr. Crane was no different from any of the other teachers.

There was certainly no lack of students in his class on the first week—the largely female percentage most likely gathered because of his pretty face. But by the end of it, over half had already dropped out.

You were not one of them. Somewhat regrettably, you had begun to think after hours of pouring over papers in just the first week. But you needed this class to fully understand your thesis topic and you'd be damned if you moved all the way out to Gotham for nothing.

That was what you were thinking about as you rounded the back row of Doctor Crane's class, staring blankly at the missed call from your mother atop your phone's home screen.

It had practically become a ritual for her to call you at least once a day since you'd moved to the city. Anytime you didn't pick up, it would send her into a frenzy—despite your multiple explanations of why you have your phone on silent during lectures. But that wouldn't stop her from constantly pleading for you to come back and finish getting your degree at home. Because even if it would take longer, and completely drain your bank account, at least you would be away from those lunatics. Or so she called them.

"You have nothing to worry about." You'd told her one time while watching a bowl of ramen bubble angrily on your stove. "Even if I was mugged or something, I'm sure the Batman would save me."

It had been meant as a half joke, said only to quell your mothers worries. Yet the more and more newspaper stands you passed on your way to the store, the more the vigilanties name came up. Often accompanied by the words HERO or SAVIOR afterward.

The sudden memory of newspapers stopped you right as you were about to cross the threshold from the lecture hall to the rest of the building. You were quick to turn around, flipping your phone back into your pants pocket loosely before approaching the professor's desk. A few more students filed out from behind you, one even tossing you a wave, before it was just you and the professor left.

Doctor Crane was nothing short of intimidating. Everything from the clean cut suit he worse, to his icy blue eyes—and even his second title as lead doctor in the nearby Arhum Asylum—was surrounded by an air of stoic professionalism.

The man hadn't even been there on the first day of school. Something that would have off-put you if not for the sudden evacuation, haulting any chance of first impressions. Instead, he had shown up the next day like nothing had happened: lips pressed into a tight line and eyes dull as he spoke to the class without really looking at anyone.

He had made it clear on multiple occasions that he was rarely available after class or for tutoring hours, but you doubted that even if he was, nearly anyone would show up for a one on one conversation.

Looks like you would have to be the outlier today.

You waited patiently as he shuffled from one stack of paper to another, eyes never once drifting over the rim of his glasses to look at you. Occasionally you would catch a glimpse of his usually devoid face break into a little frown before making a mark on a paper and moving on. You resisted the urge to peak and see if any of those papers were yours.

"Yes?" He adressed you by your last name suddenly. Packets and papers continued to shuffle. This time he did spare you a glance, a flash of something swirling in his cold eyes before disappearing. Or maybe that had been the dim light. It had been to quick for you to catch.

You cleared your throat before speaking; adjusting your bag unconsciously.

"I had a question or two for you about my thesis topic." You said with a level tone. He asked what it was somewhat dismissively, his monotone way of speaking ever present.

"I've been researching fear and its effects on the human brain for quite sometime, so I felt it was only fitting for that to be my topic."

That seemed to gather his attention. When you looked up from your examination of the plain black stapler on the corner of his desk, you were met with one raised eyebrow. His hand was writing on the stapled essay before him considerably slower.

If you squinted hard enough it almost looked like he was smiling.

"May I ask what has garnered your interest in such a subject?" He pressed. For a moment your mind went a little blank, not expecting such undivided attention from him. It was unnerving, concidering that before today he probably didn't even know your first name.

"Well, I've always been interested in how much emotions have a grip on the mind." The words were now tumbling from your mouth in a flurry of half-baked thoughts.

"It was only after moving here that I really realized how it can affect an entire city, much less just one person. Everyone knows how absurd the crime rates here are, but I don't think they've ever seen the stark contrast in the Gotham residents from, say, another neighboring city.

And not to mention there's a whole group of personas parading around the block inspiring pure fear. When the bigger crimes aren't outwardly released to the public, I'm starting to think the ones the police can cover up are being covered up. I did a quick search of specific types of crimes related to the patterns of people like the Joker, Bane, and Scarecrow, and too much adds up for it to all be a coincidence."

You reminded yourself to breathe. You knew you were passionate about this subject—hence the decision in thesis topic—but you were never this chatty with it. Something about Doctor Cranes' unwavering stare drew it all out of you in one go. He was a surgeon at the moment, prying your brain apart from the inside out and turning it over in his hands.

Or maybe you were over analyzing things again.

"And what do you think of this Scarecrow?" He had stopped grading now, plucking the clear rimmed glasses of the bridge of his nose and folding them neatly beside him. In a second, his icy blue gaze seemed to intensify in strength, pinning you in place like a specimen of his to observe. You made the brief connection between this and a lepidopterist pinning up butterflys by their wings. It was quick to leave.

Instead you thought back as news clippings and articals flashed in bold print on your mind. Pictures of the victims he had since left behind followed.

Most of them had died from shock or poison, toxins coursing through their bloodstream too fast for their bodies to handle. Not a wonderful way to go, but it was no better or worse than the dozens of mugging gone wrong that occurred everyday. If you ignored how they had all clawed their eyes out in terror, that is.

Your response came slow and methodical, words chosen with care. You were well aware that people had been thrown out of prestigious universities for speaking their minds about less, and you couldn't afford that right now. Besides. He had asked you a question. Who were you to deny him?

"I think what he's managed to make, to do, is a breakthrough in the scientific and medical field." If your professor noted the way you swallowed thickly he didn't say anything.

"What else?" It was almost like he knew every thought that crossed your mind before it even formed. As if he had been preparing for this exact moment.

You could continue. You could tell him that you'd started sitting by your thoroughly locked window at night, waiting patiently to catch a glimpse of a masked maniac. You could tell him that monster was the exact thing that pushed you to move to Gotham. You most certantly could tell him that you wanted to get your hands on that gas to do some tests of your own—see exactly what this Scarecrow had managed to create.

But instead you looked to the left and told him that was it.

"Well if that's all, I would like to continue this conversation at a later date." Doctor Cranes glasses were back on now as he stood up and began gathering his things.

"I'm not sure—"

"I'm quite interested in what you have to say." He adressed you by your last name again, shutting his briefcase closed with a chilling click. "After all, I have written some papers on this exact subject."

You know. You had read them in your search for more information on the Scarecrow's toxin.

"I'll keep that in mind, professor." You glanced at the doorway, wondering if it would be unacceptable to make a dash for it. You didn't want to be late for work any more than you were already. And if you were being honest this conversation had taken a turn you weren't prepared for.

By some grace of god he let the conversation drop. Not caring to spare another glance at him, you took to the door, planning out the route home in your head.

If he watched you go, you didn't notice. It wasn't until you had gotten home in your stained work uniform, beat up trainers grayed with labor, that you noticed your folder for his class was missing.

"Shit." You dragged a tired hand down your face, kicking off your socks as you lay next to the spread out compartments of your backpack.

You sighed. Looks like you'd be seeing Doctor Crane again sooner than you thought.

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lutawolf · 3 months

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“My Stand In” Episode 7 opinion and commentary.

esinegerp asked:

Lovely Luta, I just got caught up on My Stand In … I do love some tortured tears from a toxic boy who is now learning a painful lesson. Please bless me with some commentary on the latest episode.

So here I am!

I would like to start by emphasizing that Ming is not a good person. Now, that doesn't imply a lack of affection towards him. I am merely highlighting the obvious to ensure that everyone is aware that I am not blind to his shortcomings. He exhibits sporadic instances of kindness; however, please note that this does not make him a considerate individual. He is not a nice person, but a person who can be kind.

This makes him an almost villainous love interest, which I appreciate. I genuinely appreciate that he is not our typical main lead. He is a selfish asshole, who does what he wants without regard to feelings. Unless he cares about you, which is rare. There are few who can get past his trust issues for him to care. Which is why he is in the conundrum that he is in. He doesn't trust people and likes even fewer. Ming’s instincts are telling him to trust Joe, but his typical distrust is getting in the way.

Let's start this episode off by discussing the agreement between Joe and Ming. Ming is required to buy Joe's mother a house and pay her medical expenses. Does that include a housekeeper/caretaker? Cause that is who Joe and his mother are greeted by when they arrive at the new home. Is that stipulated in the agreement? I have my doubts, yet here she is. Allow me to explain. It could be inferred that Joe is responsible for obtaining her. However, it is worth noting that he is not the same Joe who possessed some wealth. And he likely expended the majority of the funds he had earned on the initial hospital payment that he had to make prior to Ming's arrival.

Now to the next scene. That kindness and assholishness is being shown right off the bat because Ming immediately. The question, “Have you eaten?” is the kindness. But then, knowing his character, you can imagine that he is asking why he cares while he is nodding in reply to Joe. Which is why he so rudely throws the towel and tells him to take a shower.

I want you to look at the body language and expressions here. One conveys dissatisfaction, whereas the other expresses regret. When I say that Ming is so confused, this right here shows it. He feels immediate regret for hurting Joe, but he doesn't know why. This further agitates him. That's the thing to not forget, he can feel Joe in there, but his brain is telling him it's not true. Wouldn't you second guess yourself on that, too? Plus, he's being told that Joe is alive. So here he is in a pull and push game. Pulling him near because he can feel Joe in there but pushing him away because Joe is alive and this can't possibly be his Joe. Ming is going batshit crazy inside himself, and to be fair, he wasn't exactly sane to begin with.

That robe keeps taking me out of the scene. That is the tackiest wardrobe pick.

Oh, this scene kills me, but I think it expresses what I've been trying to say. Both of them are going through hell, but we tend to sympathize with Joe because he's not an asshole, and we know what happened. We also get to see his perspective, whereas we are left piecing it together with Ming.

Ming is an asshole, but the boy has been alone for two years, wallowing in guilt. He is clearly lonely and touched starved. Before, he was affectionate to the people he cared about, but now we've observed that he's really kept the people at arms length now. Not nearly as handsy with Tong as previous. He might not know to hate or blame Tong yet, but he knows that he was a source of discomfort for his Joe. He's living out the ideology that his Joe will come back, so he is trying to set everything in place for that. Furthermore, he is now in showbiz when he never wanted to be before. He is doing that so wherever Joe is, he'll eventually see him and recognize him. He does the watch commercial featuring the watch his Joe got him, just in case Joe might see it from wherever he is and know that Ming is waiting.

Everything Ming has shown thus far is that he truly believes that Joe is alive and will eventually come back to him. So why is he pulling this Joe close when it goes against what he believes? He doesn't have the answer to that either.

Ming is clearly disappointed to be waking to an empty bed.

Let us revisit the agreement once more as we watch Ming watch Joe make breakfast. Currently, Joe is intended to serve as a substitute boyfriend for a duration of one year. There is no mention of making breakfast in the agreement I heard. Yet here is Joe, making Ming breakfast. Until told otherwise, I'm working under the assumption that Joe felt the need to make Ming breakfast. If so, that speaks volumes, now, doesn't it?

Ming tells Joe to hurry back, that he'll wait for him. There is almost a softening to him here. All the flashbacks getting to him, or does he feel Joe more at this moment?

Sol makes Joe a main character. Does Sol finally feel Joe, or is he just finally moving on and he has a type? I would like to remind everyone that Ming immediately felt Joe, while Sol didn't. So right now I'm working under the assumption that Sol is moving on, and he has a type. Which isn't a bad thing, in the real world we would want someone to move on and find happiness.

Oh, no! Sol recognized his back!

Joe is trying to put that distance up. Is it for himself? Or is it for Ming? Both maybe? He can't possibly miss that he is basically reliving his past at this point.

Shit, suspicious Sol. Joe, you are a terrible liar, and you are also suspicious. “Even in death, misfortune still finds him.”

Sol is now asking himself, how you knew Joe had misfortune in life.

Allow me to point out that Joe is polite to Ming, but not to Sol. When he answered his phone, he didn't say, “Please excuse me.” As he does with Ming.

Sol taking the phone from Joe… That was strictly to antagonize Ming, who he holds responsible for Joe's death. He is seeing the past repeat itself as well. Sol is taking this all in.

The way Joe so quickly takes the phone away to make the conversation private. Barely puts up an argument. Now we could say this is due to Ming paying for his mother and that would be true. However, Joe could at least be a little bit of an asshole, but not once is he. He put a little argument in there, but quickly caved and stayed respectful the whole time. He is trying to put distance by using Mr. Ming, but it isn't working well.

Ahh, look at Joe puzzling it out. “A new life… but why do I feel like everything... Is going back the way it was?”

I love Wut and their friendship.

Hahahahahahahah! Serves the dick right for not being recognized. I can only imagine this is the friend that mom doesn't like. I love Joe's witty remarks back. It appears that both men, named Joe, don't have great taste in men, but at least Ming loves Joe. If he had known it was him laying in the hospital, he would have been there every day. Tharn doesn't give one shit about Joe.

Mom and Joe's relationship is everything. He is really soaking up the motherly love he'd missed out on. Aww… She's so cute. She's just happy to have her son back, but she still feels the need to protect him. I get that on cellular level. Until you are a parent yourself to an older child, you don't realize how hard parenting is. This is when you start desperately looking around for an instruction book, and then you realize there isn't one. Even me with my counseling knowledge am clueless and have messed up, but I try. I tell my kids, I'm giving this parenting thing my all, but ultimately, they'll still have to see a therapist for something I did.

I love, love, the empathy of Joe. He feels so bad for the Joe2 that there are tears in his eyes. He feels for his new mom and the pain of what Joe2 went through.

“Right now, the only person I love is sitting right here with me.” I'm not crying, you're crying. He really is such a lovely human being.

Ming questing Joe about the accident and if he dreamed of anyone. He knows the two men are connected, but he isn't sure how.

Joe packing for Ming. Is that part of the agreement? Is Joe just Ming's to be ordered any way he wants. Let's say that's true, Joe could still push back, but he doesn't. Just because of the situation with his mother doesn't mean he couldn't at least give attitude, but he quickly agrees.

What do you mean, Luta…? Just look at this scene. He sees the watch and he is taken back. Ming comes in and tells him to go away, but Joe puts up a fuss. He might have still left, but he initially gave attitude at being told to leave and not finish packing. Are you guys picking up on that?

Now look. Joe expresses his feelings and opinion on sleeping with the crew and Ming, while not happy about it, doesn't argue. Are you guys catching what I'm saying? Ming is most definitely the Dominant one in this relationship; however, Joe isn't an unwilling submissive. He isn't just going along with things because he has to.

Haha! Face it, Tong, you just aren't as important as you once were. Sorry, not sorry, Joe is more significant. Tong's shock at Ming just getting up and leaving him is lovely. Oh, how I hate Tong.

Everybody is hating Ming, and I'm over here hating Tong. We are not the same.

Jealous, jealous, boy. Look at Ming being his usual jelly self. He wants to know who that boy was.

See! See Joe standing up for himself and what he wants. Their agreement doesn't mean that Ming owns Joe, and Joe doesn't have say. Which means Joe is doing things for Ming of his own free will.

Dude, how has Joe not gotten caught yet!

Lonely, Ming doesn't know how to say he is lonely.

I adore how rude Joe is being to Tharn. Have I mentioned that I hate Tharn?

Um... How does such a short ass boy overpower such a muscular man. I mean it can happen but not in this way. This scene really wasn't executed well.

Okay, so now they're fighting, but it's like Joe really gets Ming. He knows Ming's jealousy now, so he is trying to come in with calmness and sense. Unlike previously, but Ming triggers him. Because Tong is Joe's trigger. He triggers Ming with his words, and it does trigger Ming. Because he knows this is something his Joe would have felt. Ming does what he has always done when triggered with unfamiliar emotions he can't understand, which is to angrily lash out and say the most hateful things. “I bought you so you could wag your tail for me. Not bite me like this.” But in that hate is a confession. Ming is saying that those words hurt him. He is being more communicative than he typically is with anyone, even previous Joe.

Joe is pissed off for not being heard and then being dismissed as a sex toy. He is spewing anger. He is pissed off, but he never once fights Ming. Now in real life this wouldn't fly, and active participation is required to have consent. However, we aren't talking about real life but art and with that, we have to read between the lines.

At one point, Joe clutches Ming's arm. Clutching, not pushing him away. Remember, we've seen what Joe looks like when he doesn't want to have sex. Just previously, he was fighting Tharn. We aren't seeing that here. Now his face says he isn't happy, but this feels more like angry fucked up sex to me. And yes, that is a thing.

And here comes Tong, to add his annoying voice to the mix and not letting us see how they would resolve their anger.

Joe is pissed off that Tong is interrupting. Look, play back the scene. We can see Joe is not happy, and he is grappling with his feelings in the midst of this fucked up sex session, but the minute we hear Tong's voice, there is pain and sorrow. Then when Ming stops and answers the door, and says it's nothing. His anger snaps, but his negative feelings towards Ming are nothing compared to his rage at Tong. I repeated this scene five times and yeah, that is what I saw each time. Notice, though, as he says excuse me, he does not look at Tong as he is leaving. He is forcibly not looking at Tong.

That little smile of self deprecation on Ming's lips and the way he shoves away from the door.

OMG, but I love that Joe throws Tharn out. Just loses his shit and tosses him out in the hallway.

You mean you would like him to hang all over you again, Tong. Look at how Ming is putting up that wall and distance. Finally! Give it to Tong, Ming!

Oh, these two broken men.

“Make me a coffee, too.” And Joe does, no questions. There is hesitation, some grappling with his feelings. Yet, he makes Ming coffee and with care too, the way he knows he likes. Remember, we've established this isn't a part of the agreement, so he doesn't have to. He could have said, no, make it yourself and walked away. Instead, he makes it and then walks away. He made a point with that polite excuse me and walk away.

So Tong took the credit and didn't let Joe have it last time. That explains why Ming was such an idiot about not knowing, that of course, that was Joe's back. It wasn't just Tong saying he did it, he actually took credit for it in on the show credits. Have I mentioned that I hate Tong?

Now Ming knows. Let the devastation begin.

The way that everyone just watches Ming have a mental breakdown. Are they used to it now? And the way Joe just stood there and listened. He ate that shit up, but the boy has such low self-esteem that I'm sure later he'll make an excuse for this.

Ahhh, I need the next episode now.

Well, that's the end of my commentary. I hope you enjoyed it!

#my stand in #ming x joe #mingjoe #luta opinions #luta talks #luta talks my stand in #coconuts mafia

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theloganator101 · 1 month

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The Great BNHA Review: We Live in a Society

The world of fiction! The place where everything in the story happens. So when you're worldbuilding there are many things to take into consideration to make the world of your story feel alive.

From the people that inhabits it, the cities, towns, villages, and locations the characters live in. And even having a set of rules to follow to avoid plot holes and help the world they live in make sense.

Much like how despite technology being more advanced compared to real life, yet still not being able to have flying cars or advanced robots. Those kind of things can sometimes break immersion in the story, and as a writer you would want to avoid that as much as possible.

HOWEVER! The world BNHA takes place in doesn't make a lick of sense when you think about it for more than thirty seconds, and the foundation of the world breaks the more you think about it.

Case in point, UA!

I think at this point we all can agree that UA wasn't an actual school and instead a glorified boot camp to train child soldiers to fight. And for a series called MY HERO ACADEMIA!! There's hardly any academia in it at all.

Apparently Hori didn't wanna bother with that part of the series and being forced to write "boring" scenes and just get back to the exciting battles. Like where're the scenes of the class studying for their latest tests? Where're the scenes of the kids doing their favorite activities? Where're the scenes of them bonding with their superiors?

WHERE'S THE FUCKING ACADEMIA PART OF THIS GOD FORSAKEN SERIES!?!?!

You can't just name it My Hero Academia and only give us 20% of what the show is called! It just feels like false advertising at this point!

Also about the whole child soldier thing? Yeah let's go deeper into that.

Why are we relying on TEENAGERS to fight in these big battles and save the world when they've only been in hero school for a single year? That's literally like forcing teenagers to discover a cure of a disease when they've only taken a year of biology class!

And yeah, I get it, it's an anime so it's expecting you to suspend your disbelief, and they already had experience with fighting villains before so it would make sense to recruit them. But again, these are fucking teenagers and we shouldn't be relying on them to fight battles the adults should be able to handle!

This is one of the biggest problems of having your story take place in a world similar to modern real life, because here adults actually gives a shit as to what children go through and knows it would be fucked up to send them to fight in war! And the excuse of it taking place in Japan and thus how they do things is different compared to most countries is NOT GOING TO CUT IT!

These grown ass adults should KNOW bringing kids to fight in a war is fucked up and should NOT be encouraged! But since they're so desperate they choose to get them involved! The only exception to this is Rock Lock since he already knows this!

Okay, let's step away from the whole child soldier thing and focus on something the story never gave us introspection of... the fact that we never got to see how quirkless people are really treated.

It's explained that 20% of the population is quirkless, so almost a quarter are born without it. And from what we saw of Izuku's life with it, discrimination must be a common thing in their society. So it would make sense to explore that since it's tied to the main character's backstory and how he's going to make things better for others like him.

... Except that's not how it goes.

We never get to see how the life of a quirkless person is like, we never get to canonically see Izuku interacting with someone like him with the only exception being Melissa. But the thing about her is that she grew up on an island and her father a respected scientist, so it's kind of difficult to tell how the quirkless life is like if this is the only example we get... and it's not a good one.

But wait! There is a canon major character that was also quirkless like Izuku! And it's Yuga Aoyama. And how did the story treated him?

Oh it was revealed real late into the story with no awareness and treated him like shit for being an unwilling traitor, then replace him with Shinsou who whined and complained his way into the Hero Course.

Uhh, what the fuck?

And the worst part about all this is that Izuku has no reaction or acknowledgement whatsoever! He doesn't sympathize or feel less alone, he doesn't comment or say anything about this! So it's like what's even the point!?

Oh don't worry, we'll come back to this whole Izuku not acknowledging his past later in the review! But there's one more thing I wanna talk about in this world.

Is how blatantly biased society is to the Heroics occupation.

From what we've seen and learned, people are not allowed to use their quirks in public. And that the only way would be able to legally use them is to have a provisional license... which is only obtained if you're training to be a hero.

Uhh, but what if you don't wanna go into heroics? What if there is a person who wants to be a comedian? A layer? A construction worker? What if they have quirks that they think would help them in their jobs? Would they get in trouble if they tried using their quirks on the job? Is the Provisional License exam the only way to be able to use your quirk freely? Is there another test people can take to get one if they don't want to go into heroics?

Yeah you see what I'm trying to say here?

Since Hori's so focused on getting to the next big battle that he barely thinks about the world BNHA takes place in and leaves holes in the process. The world of BNHA feels more like a dystopia where heroics is all that matters and that anything else is boring and not as interesting. And since the world itself is so flawed, that I don't feel immersed into it at all and all I have are these questions on how things are run.

So in the next part, we'll be taking a look into the themes and messages the story tries to tell it's readers... but oh boy, did it really fumble with it's messages.

#bnha critical #mha critical #horikoshi critical #anti horikoshi #horikoshi why #hori is a bad writer

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cum-villain · 7 days

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I've been musing the ways that MXTX's novels handle systemic power and systems of oppression, and how it's possibly related to her own experiences.

(This ended up very long, so I'm putting it under a cut)

In her debut novel, Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (SVSSS), systemic powers aren't exactly a major motivator. As in, while systemic oppression certainly exists, it mostly serves as motivations for characters and part of their backstory. Who the characters are is, primarily, the choices they make. Even truly impenetrable systems (or Systems) allow leeway. There's an emphasis on people choosing to be who they are, choosing to help or hurt others. Regardless of who you are or where you come from, you always can choose to better yourself, or remain stuck where you are.

And, it's a nice theme, right? In part, yes. But in certain ways, it can be a touch naive. I think the character Shen Jiu is the best way to describe what I mean. Shen Jiu, as readers of SVSSS know, was a slave sold by child traffickers to an abusive master, who eventually killed his way out and to Cang Qiong Mountain. After reuniting with a childhood friend, Yue Qingyuan, who had become heir to the sect leader, he managed to get a position as heir to the second-ranking Peak Lord, and eventually was lord of Qing Jing Peak himself. However, he never recovered from his childhood, and was a highly abrasive character, and when he was a Peak Lord himself, he abused his disciples, even attempting to murder at least one (Luo Binghe) multiple times out of jealousy.

In certain ways, he made his own choices. He had the power to make a new life for himself, and yet he still chose to continue the cycle of abuse and hurt multiple children. It's undeniable he was a scummy person for this. However, one can also make the case that he wasn't entirely at fault. After all, when he murdered his way out of Qiu Manor, wasn't it because, as a slave, he had no other way to flee? For the events that followed, while he made his own choices, can he really be blamed for not being kind when he had very little kindness shown to him? Wasn't he pitiful? Certainly, it's something of a stretch to deny his fault in the abuse he perpetuated, but the fact that it's still a debate a decade after the book's release raises an interesting question: Is the way SVSSS handles systemic problems naive?

I would say, it is. Obviously, we all make our own choices in life, but what if the systems in place force us into situations where there are no good choices? What can we do when the world itself gives us no choice but to be evil or die?

In between the writing of SVSSS, and her second book, Mo Dao Zu Shi (Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation), multiple things occurred. For one, MXTX was only in high school when she wrote her first book, and she grew up. Additionally, danmei is a genre that commonly faces censorship. It's not unheard of for authors to be arrested for writing in the genre. And SVSSS is, famously, her least popular novel. The manhua only had a few chapters before it went on a permanent hiatus, the donghua only had one season before never being seen again, there was no live action or audio drama. To write in the genre is to face a system of persecution that cannot be penetrated.

And so, MDZS has a different tone when discussing systemic oppression. In fact, to contrast her first novel, it's a major theme. All of the characters are affected by systems of oppression, especially the class system. In MDZS, these systems causes much strife, and are never truly eliminated. The characters who oppose the system the most either leave larger society, or die. For this I'll bring up three characters, primarily: Xue Yang, Jin Guangyao, and Wei Wuxian.

Xue Yang, to start, is an orphan. He's a side character who doesn't get much screentime, but his existence offers a lot of insight into the larger systems of power, and how they affect people. He's largely a villain, a heartless murderer who takes joy in great acts of cruelty. However, it's not as though he has no reason for being like this; one of his childhood memories is of being tricked by a cruel adult, thinking he'll get candy as a reward, but in the end getting nothing but broken fingers as a reward, a child getting his hand run over by a cart. After learning demonic cultivation, of which he was a prodigy, he massacred the man who tricked him, who turned out to be a sect leader. Afterwards, he killed this man's entire clan.

Eventually, he was caught, and put to trial, but due to being seen as valuable by the Chief Cultivator at the time, he was held prisoner for life instead of the death sentence he was due. Due to reasons not particularly important to this essay, he later was cast out, injured, and was eventually taken in by a particular cultivator who had originally tried to prove his guilt, and who (for reasons indirectly but majorly related to Xue Yang) ended up blind: Xiao Xingchen. Because Xiao Xingchen did not recognize him, he treated Xue Yang with kindness. At first, Xue Yang used this to trick Xiao Xingchen into killing people, but at a certain point, stopped. It would seem that Xiao Xingchen's kindness affected him. However, when Xiao Xingchen's former partner, Song Lan, found them, Xue Yang tricked Xiao Xingchen into killing him. After realizing the truth of the situation, Xiao Xingchen killed himself, and Xue Yang started desperately trying to find a way to resurrect him.

There's a reason I took the time (and wordcount) to explain the situation in detail. In the story, we see a man who, like Shen Jiu in SVSSS, can be described with the meme, "cool motive, still murder." His past is sympathetic, but no excuse for his atrocities. However, after being shown kindness, he changes a bit. He stops killing people. But when there's a threat to that kindness, when he could lose what security and safety he has, he regresses back to his old behaviour, although he regrets it immediately. It's not as though he's innately evil, but that his history has taught him that being evil is the only way to survive, and he learned to enjoy his method of survival. The systems in place shaped a child who loved candy into a killer.

However, those at the bottom don't always end up so drastically terrible. Jin Guangyao also is of the dregs of society, the son of a prostitute, but he's something of a gentleman. After all, his mother wanted him to be a gentleman in terms of his character, and her final wish was for him to also be a gentleman in terms of his status, to be accepted by his father, sect leader of the Jin clan. But doing so requires terrible actions, as his status as a prostitute's son is very low. From being forced to shelter a known killer (Xue Yang) on his father's orders and against his sworn brother's wishes; to killing that sworn brother with the dual reasons of that sworn brother attempting to murder him multiple times (albeit under influence of a sort of curse), and because his father ordered him to kill the man; to being forced to choose between marrying his sister and losing everything, including possibly his life. In the end, he ends up killing his father after Jin Guangshan disrespects his mother one last time.

Despite this, however, one can argue that he is a gentleman. While cultivators in this setting hunt monsters for glory rather than to aid common people, he institutes a watchtower system that helps alleviate their plight. While there's no way to end his marriage, he both treats his wife (sister) kindly, while never having intimate conduct after he discovers the truth. After he takes power, he kicks out the murderer his father wanted to shelter. While he killed his oldest sworn brother, that was a person who would have kill him if he didn't act first, and he still treats that sworn brother's biological younger brother kindly, one may say spoiling him. In short, when he does not need to commit evil acts to survive, he usually acts virtuously, with the exception always involving honoring his mother.

However, in the end, he dies. Yet, not for something he did; he explicitly dies out of a false accusation of trying to kill someone he cared about, and dies an unjust death out of vengeance for killing his sworn brother. And when the jianghu learns of his evil, they're willing to accept that and more, because wasn't he always just an upstart, a son of a whore? Wasn't he born rotten, lower? Despite his best attempts, Jin Guangyao could never truly escape the shackles of the class system.

To end this (admittedly rather long) section, I'll discuss Wei Wuxian. Like Xue Yang, he's an orphan, but he was taken in by the leader of the Jiang Clan, who was a friend of his parents. Like Jin Guangyao, he was the son of someone lower class, in his case a servant, but he is treated kindly by his benefactor. His position is precarious, not quite a foster child and not quite a ward, but he still grows up among the gentry, accepted by sons of the gentry as one of them. However, even he is not immune from the systems in place. When the Wen clan, once the greatest clan, is deposed for being tyrannical, the members of the clan are unfairly persecuted for their leader's sins. When Wei Wuxian tries to go against the current and save them, he fails to go against all of the world on his own, and dies for his trouble, and all but one of the Wen clan are massacred.

When he is brought back to life, after getting involved again, he decides to leave, not get involved in fighting the cultivation world head on anymore, instead focusing on small change. The new generation can be taught to be kinder than their predecessors, and they are. The change is slow, but despite the grim tone of the book, it ends with hope that change will happen, the world will become kinder, just not fast enough that many of the cast will see it.

With all of this context, one can determine the following about systems in MDZS: They are undefeatable. Maybe, slowly, they can be changed, but a person cannot go against them without paying the ultimate price. Change is possible, but it is slow, and in the meantime, people will be hurt by the system in place. Systemic persecution is a large part of many people's lives, and this is an inevitable fact. A far less hopeless tone than SVSSS's, but more realistic. The change is from naive optimism to a more mature realism.

Now, it is difficult to overstate the effect of MDZS on the world. This book was adapted into the cdrama, "The Untamed", which was a worldwide success. Chinese historical dramas were once a niche genre, but now are one of the most popular genres worldwide. This drama led many people around the world to have an appreciation for Chinese stories, and led a global audience to discover the book it was based on, leading to more books in the danmei genre finding an international audience, which led to the current danmei boom. It's very likely that MDZS is the most popular danmei novel to have ever been written. The novel has been adapted into the live action drama mentioned before, as well as a manhua, a donghua, an audio drama. I've also heard of a Japanese manga adaptation currently being done.

Of course, this attention led to the Chinese government now having more of an eye on MXTX's actions. At this point, while she's more popular than ever, she's also under heavy scrutiny. But, look at what happened: Danmei is a genre that has led authors to being persecuted, but now here she is, influencing people with her works at such a large, international scale. Certainly something, isn't it?

Now I'll turn to her third book, Tian Guan Ci Fu (TGCF), or Heaven Official's Blessing. Thankfully, I don't have to give as much context for this one as MDZS. While large systems are in place that influence people's lives, they aren't unbeatable. The final battle of the book is even a large-scale revolution against the current power structure. While the system is powerful, and causes much harm to people, it is still ultimately a system created by people, and it can be deposed by people. The system pushes people to do evil deeds, but with people working together, being kind to each other and helping each other, that system can be stopped. In short, if SVSSS is naive optimism about systems of power not stopping people from being their true selves, and MDZS is pessimistic realism about systems being unbreakable and barely bendable, TGCF is grounded optimism. Systems of power are very real, and very harmful to many people, but they aren't an all-powerful force, they can be fought against. One person can't do everything, just like Xie Lian could not save his people from a plague and civil war by himself, but if many people work together, like the heavenly officials rising up against Jun Wu, something can be done.

Now, MXTX is quite possibly the most popular danmei author on an international scale. The danmei boom is probably at its peak, I can't really see it growing much more. She's largely gone silent, with rumors of her possibly being arrested at one point. While TGCF is also very popular, due to censorship constraints, it was forced to be less explicit than her other works. With everything that's happened, I'm interested to know what her fourth book will say about systems of power.

#braincell posting #svsss #mdzs #tgcf #mxtx #mxtx meta #svsss meta #mdzs meta #tgcf meta

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kingarubin · 1 year

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I was thinking about Collector and remembered that episode from season one. It's similar but at the same quite different to what Collector is going through.

Both King and Collector just want to spend time playing with their best friend, but things seem to never go they way. They are trying to have fun and it doesn't work.

And even when they all are together they feel like they don't belong with the rest. The others seem to have so much fun together while they are being left out.

Also, in both cases a villain took notice of their insecurites and use them to manipulate them.

But despite all these similarities there are major differences between those situations. And the most important one is the motivation behind King and Collector's actions.

The problem that King was dealing with was that he wasn't anymore Luz's only friend on the Boiling Isles. At first it was just the three of them (with Eda being Luz's mentor, not equal) and now she was meeting more and more new people. King never had any close friends besides Luz so seeing her have less and less time for him was really difficult. King was scared of losing Luz to others.

King was jealous of Willow and Gus. That resulted in him wanting to separate them from Luz so that she could spend all her time with him. He wanted to have her all for himself.

That desire manifested in him being desparate to obtain friendship braceletes for them. He needed to have a proof that he is the most important person to Luz, that they really are best friends.

But in the end the end King learned that it's okay that Luz has other friends. This was represented in frienship braceletes spiliting into four parts. Because you don't have to have one friend, you can have three or more. They all can be friends with each other.

Meanwhile Collector's problem was that they never really had any friends. Archivists, Belos and even King just wanted to use them. Titans who were kind to him were gone. He never had a chance to learn how to play and be a good friend.

And from what we know it's safe to assume that their way of "playing" by turning people into puppets is something that they were taught by the Archivists.

Collector was jealous of Luz because she had exactly what they wanted. She came to the Boiling Isles and managed to gain trust and friendship of a lot of people. Collector had no idea how to do that.

And there was also her relationship with King. King was Collector's best friend, but Collector wasn't King's best friend. King didn't have any close friends before Luz came but Collector had no one (King at least had Eda). King was not only the most important person in their life, he was the only one they had. But Collector wasn't even close to being as important to King as he was to them.

But unlike King, Collector was never trying to keep King for himself. He doesn't even seem to be a person who would get jealous easily. They released Lilith from the spell and they didn't want to turn Eda into a puppet, instead wanting to convince her to join the game. He wasn't trying to separate King from the others. Because in the end they just wanted to be everyone's friend. They just didn't know how.

Both King and Collector know what it's like to feel unwanted and alone. They both know the feeling of wanting to spend time with a person that they consider to be their best friend, yet having trouble doing that. And they both know what it's like to feel unimportant to the person that is important to them. Although the circumstances and problems they were facing were quite different.

It turned out to be much bigger analysis that I expected, haha. At first I wanted to just point out similarities that I noticed (since King and Collector are very similar), but then I thought that if I'm comparing those episodes I can also take some time to look at the differences between them. So that would be it. Thank you for reading my thoughts!

#the collector toh #king toh #king clawthorne #platinum bones #the owl house #toh #analysis #toh analysis #essay #ramblings #its almost 3 am i should probably go to sleep

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duskoon · 4 months

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Yandere!Toru x Reader (General Headcanon):

A/n: It ain't a request, but oh god I simp for this man so hard. He is my personal favorite Jojo villain so far, closely followed by Pucci then Valentine. It's shame he is overhated and underrated, so I'll give him the love that he deserves. Rejoice Toru lovers, I got your backs. Also, Jojolion is severely underrated and deserve some love. First Jojo post, let’s go.

Tw: Afab!reader, Jojolion Spoilers, Canon Divergence, Yandere themes, Obsessive/Possessive behaviours, Toxic relationship (Somewhat of a parasitic relationship), Co-dependancy, Stalking (Classic Toru behavior right here), Abandonment issues, Implied murder, Manipulation, Creepy undertones, Age difference (Reader is 25+ and Toru is canonically 87+, rock humans can live up to 120 and age very slowly in comparison to carbon-based humans), Interspecies relationship, Abuse of Authority, Medical malpractice (illegal usage of sedatives), WoU.

Note: Text = “Purple” = Wonder of U speaking.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ [Now playing: The Scientist] 𝟙:𝟘𝟙 ─────|───── 𝟝:𝟙𝟘 ↻ ◁ 𝕀𝕀 ▷ ↺ 𝕍𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕞𝕖: ■■■■■□□□ ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

❦ “Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions..” The lyrics were blaring loudly through his earbuds, as Toru hummed along with it. In the reverie he was engrossed in, he accidentally collided onto someone. Consequently, dropping his phone in the process.

❦ Before the phone could clash with the ground and break, however, a gentle hand took hold of it and rose up to pass the device to him.

❦ “My apologies, sir. I was in a bit of hurry, you see. Please... Find it in your heart to forgive me.”

❦ Soft, yet a kind slant in the stranger’s voice snapped him from his previous stupor. As his mauvish-crimson irises wandered to meet her (e/c) ones before taking his earbuds off.

❦ “A-Ah. You don't need to apologize, miss. If anything, it's me who should apologize. I must thank you for your trouble, though.”

❦ Toru spoke with an alluring tilt in his tone, almost too charming if it weren't for the hollow eyes of his. He was the master of both guises and words. Like a jester that wore multiple masks to appease his audience.

❦ He had lived amongst organic humans for so long. Observing and adapting to their behaviors accordingly. Integrating in, yet never fully becoming one of them.

❦ He could truly never become fully human, Toru was painfully aware of that, even if he wished to be one. It's pointless to pursue such unattainable endeavour, especially if it goes against his inherent nature.

❦ The only way for him, as he thoroughly believes, to be as close to one is by accomplishing something grand. That way he’ll leave his mark permanently. That way he won't be forgotten, nor will his existence amount to nothing.

❦ Looking at the lady, he could see her wearing a navy blue medical scrub and a familiar lab coat. Is she a doctor in TG University Hospital? If so, how come he wasn't notified? He knew everyone there, aside from her. Perhaps a new hire? His curiosity has been piqued.

❦ “How intriguing…” The dark haired man thought to himself, as he shoved both his phone and earbuds into his yellow pant’s pockets. Toru chose to follow behind her. Not too far that he loses her out of his peripheral sight, but not near enough that it alarms her of his presence.

❦ In his eyes, it wasn't stalking at all but rather an observation to be made. After all for the majority of his long isolated life, he has been detached due to his “unique” circumstances.

❦ There’s something that allured him to her, was it perhaps the working of her stand? Was it fate itself? He wants to—no, must know. Yusaho was a means to an end for him, albeit you—for some odd reason—had managed to tug at his rocky heart.

~~~

❦ Due to his nature as a Rock Human… I personally believe Toru would take a long time, before he even realises his affections toward his darling is genuine and not born out of ulterior motives. Unlike, what had transpired between him and Yasuho in the past.

❦ Maybe it was your indiscriminate kindness that had enticed his voracious attention, especially since it was out of good heart, just like how a Venus flytrap secretes a sweet nectar to ensnare an unknowing prey into it’s grasp.

❦ Or by some sheer luck, he had somehow managed to flee the Higashikata’s before they could finish him off. His life was on a single thread ready to fall at any moment, if it weren't for your intervention.

❦ Perhaps you were a miracle worker of some sort that could cure the rock disease; That he had sustained from the equivalent exchange with the Higashikata’s youngest child, or you have a stand that could heal it? It doesn't matter the reason, he doesn't understand why… But he feels indebted to you.

❦ “Urgh.. Hah.. Thank you.. Thank you for saving me..” Toru muttered weakly, looking deeply into your beautiful eyes as you carefully stitched his wounds close to prevent external bleeding. It was beautiful to him. Just like the sheen of rainbow after a long storm. The eyes of his saviour. If you weren't, then one of Wonder of U endless calamities would have already stroke you.

❦ “Shhhh.. Rest your mind, I'll take care of you.. Don't stress yourself. By heavens… what… to… you?” You replied back softly, carrying the injured oddly dressed stranger to your home. Your mellifluous voice—in spite of cutting off—soothed his fears, as he closed his eyes. No longer dreading what Toru thought was his near death, because the dark haired man knows he’ll come back just fine. Your words and actions remained etched into his mind.

❦ One thing for sure… Once Toru comes into terms with his feelings, things will roll so fast and unbeknownst to you. You’ll suddenly feel scrutinizing eyes following you everywhere—whether be it his own (most likely), one of his cohorts, or even his own stand under a guise of a close relative—most likely an older man—of your own. It's not like he had a hand in said relative’s death who may or may not figured what he is up to, it was merely an… accident.

❦ Toru is extremely obsessive, as he is attentive to his darling’s habits and needs and personal preferences to a tee. From knowing ordinary things like their favorite genre of music, videogames, flowers, to their favorite food, and all the way to their medical records (Ex: If his darling’s family—by extension his darling— had a record of a hereditary diseases he’d know, to monitoring their menstrual cycle, his darling’s exact blood pressure and whatnot, and etc..) and other personal information.

❦ Whatever information regarding his darling he will covet it like a greedy dragon that preserve it’s treasures, whether through his status as a head doctor in the hospital or/and as the leader of Locacaca Organization. No one would ever suspect him of doing that, and if they do… Well.. It's a shame that they’ll met a misfortune end, eh?

❦ “Don't worry, sunflower. I will protect you, provide for you, and alleviate any kind pain you have. What kind of lover would I be, if I can't do all of that? There is absolutely nothing that I won't do to guarantee your safety and happiness except if it meant you're going to abandon/replace me. You're my first priority!”

❦ Paired with his obsessiveness, is his manipulative and sly nature. Don't let his playful and laid-back nature fool you. What lurks under his unassuming mask, is a dark and selfish urge to obtain you all for himself. Cut you off from the greedy world, only for his eyes to relish and keep.

❦ With his forbidden knowledge of his darling intricacies and inner secrets, the rock human will emulate whatever you like and would condemn what you hate. However, he is smart enough to share something of his own interests lest you suspect him.

❦ “Toru-san, It’s nice to see you again here! But, why are you here? Aren't you busy at the moment?” You asked; Voice soft, sweet, and innocent unaware of the “young” doctor’s true intentions. You were about to leave your office to head back to your home, but Toru’s sudden appearance has halted you. It's quite surprising that he precisely knew where you had worked, let alone the exact time your shift ended. Must be a coincidence, or is it?

❦ Your ardor and charity was one of a kind. Toru couldn't help but yearn for it, yet he only desires it for him and himself only. It irritates him when you share it with others, but he hides such distaste beneath a veneer of charisma.

❦ After all, he doesn't want you to be scared of him. He wants you to come to him out of your own will, and vie for him like he does to you. He is a patient man, after all. Whatever competitor/s he has for your heart are already taken care off with utter apathy toward their untimely demise.

❦ “I just finished my shift, sunflower.. I came here to ask you.. If you would like to accompany me to the theatre? I heard they'll be playing some of Tchaikovsky works, and I thought about inviting you along since you're a big fan of his works…” The young man offered, seeing your eye light up in excitement and brought a smile onto his unblemished face.

❦ “Really?!” You exclaimed elated, before deflating as you remember your current situation.

❦ “I uh.. really want to, but I… can't go.. Well.. I have a low budget at the moment… hahaha..” You continued shyly, yet that didn't stop the charming man from pointing his pointer finger ontop of your delicate lips almost to shush you in a teasing manner.

❦ “Don’t worry, If money is your concern… Then I can just cover for you! A diligent employee like you deserve a break from work. After all, stress is the greatest killer. Let me relieve some of your burden!” Toru muttered offering his right hand for you to take, while his left pointer finger is still caressing your lips.

❦ “Bu—” Before you could argue back, the dark haired man interrupted you with a playful smirk. “It is no trouble at all, sunflower.. You do not need to repay me with anything. Your presence is more than enough for me.”

❦ He is very lucid about his unhealthy obsession. Instead of rejecting it, however, he wholeheartedly accepts it. Due to his nature, he sees it as normal. Wouldn't you like to be pampered and loved like a pet?

❦ Toru is affectionate, and a tad bit physically clingy. Nothing too alarming at hindsight. Do you blame him? He had been so alone for so long without any connections, and whoever came after him succumbs to his stand’s lethal ability spurring his loneliness even further.

❦ All except you for some reason. Was it your stand that is protecting you? It doesn’t matter. He had a taste of you, and he won’t let you go. Toru refuses to go back to the agonizingly meaningless existence that he had before meeting you.

❦ What triggers him so quickly is the idea of his darling forgetting, rejecting or/and replacing him. It is his primal fear above anything else. You are the only person, who made him think of someone else besides himself.

❦ It’s enough he was rejected once due to his youthful appearance, he won't let that happen again especially with you. He had already latched onto you.

❦ “Ahahah.. Sunflower.. Please don't leave me.. I'll be good.. I'll be what you want me to be.. Just please, I beg you, don't leave me.” Toru dropped on his knees, with his two hands clutching yours tightly in a desperate manner.

❦ To an untrained eyes, you might be in the wrong for breaking this poor man’s heart. Yet, you knew better than anyone how dangerous this man was. How his obsession run deeper than still water. Or in this case, endless stream of blood and death.

❦ If only you knew back then, saving him would lead him to slaughter anyone who came close to you. All in the name of protecting and loving you.. How delusional.. Love begets altruism, not selfishness. Though, you doubt he could comprehend that.. Left completely in the dark about his inhuman nature.

❦ You’d have let him to crumble like dust, but it was far too late for that now. As he brought your hands, to where his heart supposed to be.

❦ It is often said that human response to danger was flight or fight, yet there was a third option that is often forgotten about. Freeze.

❦ Taking advantage of his beloved’s shock, he swiftly administered a sedative into her body. Slowly watching her body fall limp. Before your head could reach the concrete, he held you close to his chest.

❦ “Tell you I'm sorry. You don't know how lovely you are…” The rock human muttered softly, carrying your unconscious body to his “home” that he had bought for you. Away from civilization, just the two of you living together forevermore. The notion that you're dependant on him for everything, puts a smile on his face. He wants to be your world, just like you are to him.

❦ Escaping him is pointless, since the rock human has his connections everywhere. That, and his obsession for you had gone so far, that even his stand has inhibited some of it.

❦ Whenever Toru goes in his habitual sleep cycle like most rock humans do, Wonder of U most likely is keeping watch over you. It's very apparent since disasters and freak accidents follow you like a moth to a flame. It may not harm you directly, but the guilt that eats your mind for being the indirect cause of the bystander’s death will prevent you from trying again.

❦ “I must commend you! Not only were you clever to discover a way through my abilites, yet found a way to run away from my user. However, it's no use fleeing from us… You will only bring calamities to innocent bystanders… You do not wish for that, would you? The moment our eyes laid on you, human, it was preordained for us to be one. It would be best for you to make amends with your fate.”

#duskoon.speaks #yandere x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere #yandere jjba #yandere toru x reader #yandere toru #tw: yandere #Tw: Co-dependancy #tw: implied murder #tw: toxic relationships #tw: stalking #tw: manipulation #tw: age difference #tw: interspecies relationship #tw: abuse of authority #tw: medical malpractice #tw: drugging

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