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1eoness · 1 year ago

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professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 22 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon ♡

[to clarify, i am 18. anyone <18 and anyone >18 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #guys im sorry if my writing is pretty vague idfk lmao #re4remake leon smut #THIS IS SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut

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jedimaesteryoda · 8 months ago

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One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #tyrion lannister #house lannister #house targaryen #meereen #queen cersei #cersei

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icarustypicalfall · 1 year ago

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cara mia

ALEJANDRO VARGAS X F!READER

inspired by the glorious lovers, Gomez and Morticia.

a request that i hope will succeed to mend every heart i broke because of certain angst

summary: you can't love someone more than yourself and live everyday as if it's the last.. well, certainly not according to you and your lover

warnings: none, sfw, pure fluff <3

note: im not that good at writing romance.. im an angst person but yeah that was really entertaining, doing some research and planning 🤭 tysm for your request anon, I'd love hearing from you again, tell me what you think 🫶🏻

"I've finally found you, now my life tastes sweet like cinnamon"

"I think they truly love each other, but I'm not entirely sure," Rudy chuckled at Soap's comment as they observed Alejandro and his lover, you, dancing on the crowded dance floor.

Throughout the night, you danced, kissed, and flirted, seemingly inseparable.

Los Vaqueros had organized a party to celebrate their latest mission after the tank operation. It was an ideal opportunity for Alejandro to introduce you to his brothers and new allies: Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Captain Price.

The evening had started as a simple get-together, but it quickly turned into a display of intense flirting and hours of dancing and drinks.

Rudy would often joke that Alejandro seemed to forget everyone else when he was with you. He was even distracted at the shooting range, nearly shooting one of his own men when he caught a glimpse of you passing by.

The men sitting at the table laughed, sipping their beers while keeping an eye on the couple swaying on the dance floor. "I can't believe this is the same man I used to work with. He is completely smitten with her," Rudy laughed heartily, clearly becoming more and more tipsy.

Shaking his head, he smiled. "No hermano, Alejandro and _ are not whipped. They simply love each other. They've had this connection ever since they met."

You had met Alejandro years ago, during a time when you both had to work together amidst the scandalous movements of the cartel. After a period of dating, he proposed, and within a year, you were married. Though Alejandro had some flaws, such as anger issues and work addiction, he never let that affect your relationship. Any disagreement or argument would swiftly be resolved with passionate apologies shared behind closed doors. Some never started believing in soulmates till they witnessed the Colonel and his wife dancing bachata at 2 am.

To Alejandro, you were a delicate flower, even with your own strong-willed nature. He took pleasure in watching you bark orders to incompetent recruits.

When some of his men playfully asked him whether he'll choose you over eternity.. well of course he chose you. Because, quoting him: "how could I choose a life where you are not by my side, cara mia? I'd consider it as hell itself. For me, amor, I'd rather hold you for a brief moment over any eternities."

You, on the other side, proudly showcased your love for him. The bond you shared was powerful and seemingly magical. Together, you lived for the moment, sucking the joy of life and spating out the sorrow. There wasn't any words that could describe how you feel about him.

Crazy? maybe. Deeply in love? Absolutely.

Taking a break from dancing, you volunteered to get drinks, and Alejandro made his way back to the table. A broad smile adorned his face as he glanced at you, seated closely to him, holding onto his arm. You smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he kissed your forehead and kept a protective arm around your waist.

Captain Price chuckled and patted Alejandro's back, remarking, "Well son, you never told us you were married. Rudy mentioned it before he passed out."

You glanced at Alejandro, resting your elbow on the table, cheek supported by your palm, wearing a playful smirk.

"Is that so? He didn't mention me even once? Must have been pretty busy, right, amor?"

Alejandro held your hand, gently squeezing it within his calloused palm and placing soft kisses on your fingertips.

"Just because I didn't talk about you doesn't mean you weren't on my mind, Querida. You reside there constantly, occupying every thought of mine."

"That was cheesy, Alejandro. Eres increíble!" you teased, his eyes seemed to flicker like stars shining in his dark brown orbs. He drew closer to you, his smile wide.

"You really shouldn't speak Spanish to me, amor. You know it drives me mad."

"I'd absolutely love seeing you mad, Hermoso."

The men around the table followed your conversation, enraptured by this side of Alejandro.He was unafraid to show you off, proud of your relationship and unapologetic about his love for you. In fact, if he was to be called out for loving you this much, he'd proudly wear the title. He cherished you deeply, and you had no worries about the cartel using you against him. They knew not to cross that line, for you were a protected and treasured part of Alejandro's life. God help the ones who tried to cross it, let some peace fall upon their limp bodies.

After a long night, it was almost four in the morning when you and Alejandro reached your home. In the blue hour, you both would often take a moment to witness the captivating beauty of nature while wrapped in each other's arms.

Alejandro gently tilted your chin, meeting your gaze with a smile as he whispered slurred words into your ear.

"Do you remember our honeymoon, darling?"

"Which one, amor? Every day with you feels like a honeymoon, and you're definitely giving me a sweet tooth."

"..The night after we got married," he reminisced. "When everyone had left, leaving only you and me. We sat on the balcony, with the cold wind weaving through our hair. I held you close as the sun rose."

A slight smile formed on your lips as you relived the memory. Your fingertips lingered on the burning flesh of his cheek. Closing your eyes, his words sank in the depth of your mind.

"Do you ever realize you become a poet when you're drunk?"

"Just for you, amor, I'll be anything you want, if you wanted me to get you the stars, I'll collect every piece of them, even if i died trying. But if you wanted to shove me away, I'll stick with you for eternity and beyond. You're too precious for me, cara mia"

His hand found yours, in slow movements and dizzy stares, he squeezed your palm. As if the simple mouvement was a promise, a vow for you.

"I want to recreate that moment tonight," Alejandro murmured, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Let's stay up until the sun rises again, and we can relive our love story once more."

You nodded, anticipation gleaming in your eyes. Hand in hand, you made your way to the balcony, watching as the sky transformed from dark to a palette of soft hues. Wrapped in each other's arms, you whispered sweet nothings, promising to love, support, and protect one another until the end of time.

This kind of love that almost felt irreal, you shared a deep mutual connection that none could explain, and neither of you tried.

If anything, you just loved each other. You digged and bathed in the joy, forgetting the sorrow. Was this a blessing of life, an apology for the misery your souls endured during lifetimes?

Or were you simply lucky enough of to find the missing piece of your heart?

For the matter, you both knew that this love was enough to mend your hearts, over and over again.

As the first rays of sunlight kissed your skin, Alejandro leaned in and whispered against your lips.

"Te amo, mi vida. Forever and always."

"Te amo también, mi amor. Nada ni nadie nos separará."

(can i marry him please? i stg he's perfect. sorry if it's not accurate or not what you expected. ily all 🫶🏻❤️)

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mixelation · 5 months ago

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Ooh for reborn AU. What if Minato decided against recruiting Tori and Deidara.

Like he decided that it’s not worth the risk and that executing them is safer.

What would Itachi do, I don’t think he’d be willing the gengutsu Minato or betray Konoha for them.

But like would he help them get out?

Also would Konoha would even be able to execute them.

Oooooh, interesting.

No, you're right in that Itachi wouldn't betray Konoha for them. I'm still rotating his mindset at this point in the fic a little, but he does very much want to be a good loyal Konoha-nin. At the same time, he was a missing-nin for close to ten years, so his attitude is much more "take no shit" than the previous timeline. if he thought minato were incompetent or bad for Konoha, he'd act against him. (he respects Minato though, so.) he wouldn't necessarily see taking out someone like danzo as a betrayal.

he might help get them out! i think he would be minimalist as possible about it, though. like deidara doesn't really need a lot of help; itachi might just have to create the right opportunity. he does feel some personality loyalty to both deidara and tori, and also some responsibility for capturing them, but it's not that strong.

i can also see him deciding konoha is more important that old alliances and not helping them. this would likely only be if someone he respected gave him a really good argument though. like i think minato could convince him not to intervene, but i can't see minato actually caring enough to do this. he'd just be like: oh yeah, slept on it and decided they were better off dead. hey, did you see if they've restocked the vending machine recently?

if you want a DRAMATIC RESCUE you could have itachi being like: okay so when they execute tori, they are going to realize some things, and then she's going to be interrogated until they wring every last thing out of her, and then they're going to Find Some Things TORI I AM HERE TO SAVE YOU---

#reborn au #toriverse

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naamahdarling · 3 months ago

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MY medical update:

I am beginning to feel like I will never reach the end of anything. I am legitimately folding like a wet house of cards. My mental health is being profoundly negatively affected as my identity as "a unique and vibrant human being with a meaningful life" is increasingly subsumed into a deeply trauma-adjacent and depersoning identity as "a patient", with all the associated expectations that I will repeatedly and with minimal complaint allow people I barely know or have never met access to my emotions and my traumatized and marginalized body. That is not safe space within which to exist. Medical professionals, even the very kind ones, often forget the toll that "care" can take. (Bad ones disregard it altogether.)

My unusually high degree of emotional awareness allows me to see what is happening, and even allows me to cope with it very well, but "very well" is still not enough to make this sustainable over the long term. I don't actually know where to go or what to do from here.

I am torn between wanting to get all of these appointments out of the way as quickly as possible, so that I can relax without anything hanging over my head, and spacing things out just to give myself room to fucking breathe even though that means I will always have something lurking in the near future, causing me dread. I've run the math in my head over and over and I still can't work it out. There are too many unknowns, and too many variables, and too many ways things could go wrong either way I go.

I don't even know if there is a right choice. I don't know if there is a best answer. I've never been under this kind of pressure for so long before, I have been struggling with one thing or another since before the beginning of the year, and it is genuinely starting to do what I believe could turn into lasting harm.

I had a long and helpful talk with my boyfriend tonight, and while it did not fix much, it did help me to understand that the constant pressure on me is making it difficult for him to be here for me as much as he would like to be able to, and that's obviously distressing to him. That hit me really hard, because that is exactly the position I was in earlier this year trying to get his medication refilled and trying to help him deal with a deeply incompetent dental clinic.

I very much appreciate that he shared that with me, and I probably will try to find a way to slow things down and space things out, because even if I don't know that is what is best for me, if that is what is best for him, that's what I want to do. I've been so overwhelmed trying to manage my own emotional state that I sadly have not stopped to think about the effect this has had on him. I do feel guilty about that, but the important thing is that he let me know and I heard him.

I am very tired, and I'm praying that next week is uneventful. I don't have anything scheduled, but that doesn't mean that something annoying or even actually horrible might not occur.

Right now I'm going to have a snack and go to bed and hope that the pharmacy refills my meds tomorrow so that I can go back to having 30% less ADHD.

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mytheoristavenue · 1 year ago

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ATSV Bully!Hobie Brown x Reader - I Hate You

Summary: Ever since you joined the team a few months back, you've had an indescribable distain for Hobie, and the feeling seems mutal, if all his bullying is anything to go by- or so you thought.

Warnings: spider!reader, dangerous situations, angst, fluff, romantic tension, inspired by 'I HATE YOU' by 2NE1

You couldn't stand him, the way he lounged about, aloof and uncaring about the goings on around him. Currently, he layed on a lobby couch, Mayday in his lap with her tiny hands in his, baby talking one another. The sight mad you gag. How could a guy like Hobie possibly be good with kids? Same level of maturity, you guessed.

"(Y/N), are you even listening to me? Do you think this is a joke?" Your boss's harsh tone snapped your attention back to what it ought to be on. Your cheeks burned as Miguel's starer bored into you, waiting for a response, which he'd undeniably cut short just to assert dominance over you. To add insult to injury, you could make out a fit of childish giggling that could only belong to a small red headed girl, fueled by snarky comments from her seemingly adopted older brother.

"I-I'm sorry, I-" you sputtered, feeling frustrated tears prick your eyes. "I just got-"

"Distracted, I'm aware." There it was. And just like that, he was laying into you again, with belittlements so hurtful you had no choice but to tune him out for your own mental health. Finally, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, letting you know he was done yelling, which was never a good sign. Everyone knows Miguel's quiet anger is so much worse than his loud anger. "Look, you can't keep making these mistakes, they're costing us more and more." he admitted. "I need to know that I can trust you to fix this or..." he trailed, swiping his hair back, not wanting to finish a difficult sentence. "Or I'm gonna have to send you home, perminately."

"Miguel," you instantly protested, swallowing hard to fight back tears. "No please, you know I have nobody to go back to!"

"Then prove to me you can be useful." he replied sternly. "Because right now you're not and you knwo I can't keep anyone around that I can't use. Am I understood?"

You hung your head, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, though you refused to give him a good look at your wet cheeks. "Yes sir, I'll clean it up."

"Good," he nodded, releived to be done with the conversation. "But just in case something goes wrong, take Hobie with you."

-----

Hobie trailed through the headquarters behind you, glancing around awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets. This was his fault, really, and he knew it. You knew it, and he knew that you knew, but 'sorry' never had been in his vocabulary. "Look bird-"

"Shut it, you sleezy, incompetent, diabolical little shitstain!" You shoted right there in the hallway, not caring who saw or heard. Hobie threw out his palms in defense with an embarrassed grin.

"Diabolical? I don't think I'm exactly diabolical." he chuckled nervously, only to be silenced once again by your accusing finger.

"You are! You sabbotaged me!" you insisted, seething.

Irritation for your attitude wore down his guilt as he dropped one hand and brought the other to rest on his hip, sassily popping it out. "I did no such thing," he lied. "Not my fault you can't take a joke."

"A joke?!" you shrieked, balling your fists to restrain yourself. "You picked on me before I went on that mission purposefully, just to make sure I screwed up!"

"Oh whatever," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just like gettin' ya all riled up, you're cute when your mad, luv." he cooed sinisterly, leaning his lanky form closer to yours. Color rushed to your face as you began to shake.

"Why can't you just take anything seriously?!"

"Why do you have to treat everything so serious? Not everything is liife or death, (Y/N)." he dismissed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up at you.

"Because this is!"you cried, tears once again begining to fall down your cheeks. Damnit, he never was able to watch you cry. "I have nothing left in my demention ahnd you know it. If I get sent home I-!" you haulted, not knowing what to say, genuinely at a loss. "I-I don't know what I'd do..."

"Bird," he called, sympathy softening him exponetially. "I-"

"Please just save it, Hobie." you finally spat, fidgeting with your watch. "You've said enough."

-----

Standing on a rooftop, you surveiled the area the device had brought you to, scanning for any sign of the anomaly you'd accidnetally released into this univense against the dreary drizzing sky. Looking around and finding yourself alone, you'd asumed Hobie hadn't followed you in, not unlike him to dodge jobs he wasn't in the mood for, and even better for you. If you took care of this on your own, you'd be back in Miguel's good graces for sure.

Before you had any time to begin your search, however, you found yourself knocked off your feet, breathless and went sailing into the nearest horrizontal surface: one of the many windows of a towering office building. Eyes blown in panic and shock, you heave against the scratchy carpet floor, not littlered with broken glass as chaos arose around you. The employees of the office began to jump just from their seats, a few running to your aid or suspciously interogating you, though most chose to flea. Screams, shattering glass, and stomping overwelmed youas you began to become overstimulated, only interupted by dark c huckling uttered in a thick Russian accent.

"Is nice to see you again," the deformed figure before you said, sstepping towards you. "Will be last time, I pomise." With that, the man charged at you headfirst, an offense you narrowly avoided.

"Listen to me, Rhino!" you tried, crawling up to the ceiling and hanging there as you spoke. "I know you've endured pain in your life, every instance of you has, but you don't belong here!"

The behemoth seemed to only take your words as fueled, growling in responce. "You do not know me, spider." he snarled. "Youi know nothing of me!" Raging, he thrashed, thorwing a termper tantrum and hurling an office desk towards you, which thankfully missed you thanks to your vantage point.

"I know a lot more than youy might think!" you plead, begging to chip away down to what little humanity remained of him. "I know your name is Aleksi, and I know you'd had a rough life," you explained cautously, lowering yourself via a strand of silk once you felt he was calming down. Holding your hands out defensively, you continued. "You're a criminal- a theif, but you didn't have a choice, did you, Aleksi?"

"Niet." he answered abashedly, eyes furrowing at you suspiciously.

"I also know that you've been hurt by people you trusted. Doctors and scientists who had other plans for you than what they told you, right?"

"Da."

You sighed, stepping a bit closer, relaxing slightly. "But they people who did that to you aren't here. They're not even in this dimention and you can't go around hruting innocent people looking or them." For a moment, it seemed what you'd said had really gotten to him as he stepped back, staring down at his hands symbollically. "You can't stay here, Aleksi, you have to go home."

Sudddenly his eyes flickered back up to you, filled with rage as he breathing became labored. "Neit!" he hollered, hands curling into clenched fists as he let out a betrayed roar. "I have nothing to go back to! Not going back to prison, I will not be captive!"

Before you knew it, you were falling. Air filled your ears as it rushed by you and your surroundings had long since faded to a watercolor blur. Straight ahead, you could see Rhino standing in the gape of the shattered window of the office building, huffing as he watched you desend. Had he not thrown you off the ledge so quickly, you might have thought to sling a web to break your fall, but you couldn't find it within yourself as you watch his form disappear. This was it, you'd failed thr mission and now you were going home. Sudenly, it dawned on you.

You weren't going to be sent home. You were going to die.

Deadweighted, you closed your eyes, anticipating the crippling hit to the concrete, not that you'd feel it anyways. Suddenly, your decent ended as you fell heavy into a sturdy pair of arms, terribly tired from the race your mind had ran, and talking solice in the warm heartbeat of this angel whoi would carry you on.

The smell of leather and rust hit your nose as you began to come to your senses. "C'mon, luv, gotta wake up." a concerned voice urged as paitently as possibly. Eyes fluttering open, you saw him. Hobie was bathed in daylight, masked face turned from you in effort to give attention to his surroundings as he carried you. Then he skiddfed to a haulted, cursing under his breath has he'd sudddenly stopped giving chase to the interloper. He peer down at you, pulling off his hood with a barely free hand. "Ya still with us?" he asked, nervousness pooling out from under a wall of coolness. You nodded hesitently as he gently set you down.

"Hobie..." you wondered allowed, a bit awestuck from the emotional turmoiled you'd gone through. "You came..."

He cocked a brow, wicks falling to the side with his head. "'Course I didn, what'd you expect of me?"

You couldn't help but feel ashamed, not only of the things you'd said to him earlier in the day, but of your low expectations of him. You'd always known Hobie to have his own agenda, but he was loyal to a fault at the end of the day.

"I thought you'd leave me to clean up my own mess...I'm sorry." you admitted, hanging your head low. Your ears became hot at the sound of his hearty laughter befor his gloved hand slapped down onto your shoulder, probably a bit harded that you would've liked. "W-What's so funny?"

"Nothing, bird," he chuckled, dramatically hunched and wiping an imaginary tear form his eye. "Just that, if you're the one that made the mess, how are you meant to clean it up on your own?"

I hope this lived up to the hype of the snippet. 😖Also, not proffread, mb!

#hobie brown x reader #atsv #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spider!reader #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #hobie brown x y/n

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miguksae · 1 month ago

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I wrote a short fanfic based on a comic I drew before. I don't know English very well and this is my first time writing a fanfic, so I'm very immature.

+ There are many incorrect names. sorry. I'll murder the translator soon.

--------------------------

Since early morning, Heinkel had felt uneasy. The mansion was eerily quiet, and his body felt different than it had before.

Stepping out of her room, the feeling and unease remained. Heinckel walked slowly down the hallway, but soon his pace began to quicken. What had happened to the manor? Why did he feel so light? Why? Was there an assassin in the house again, like before? Should he have brought his sword, or -?

" father?"

Heinkel stopped in his tracks, and he soon realized that he had been so lost in thought that he had walked right past his son, Reinhard, who was about to say good morning.

"Rah, Reinhard. Sorry, I was just thinking... Good morning."

Heinkel's anxiety almost disappeared as soon as he saw Reinhard. At least the little boy being okay meant that something hadn't happened to the mansion, and they could just go to breakfast as usual, Heinkel thought.

... or so she thought.

"Tere, Teresia is -!"

The mansion's caretaker stammered as she approached them, looking almost on the verge of tears. In her hand was a slightly crumpled letter.

With trembling hands, Heinkel took it from her, unfolded it, and began to read. Then he realized the reason for his lightness of body and the cause of his uneasiness.

Failure to eradicate the White Light. Teresia van Astrea is dead.

Heinkel Astrea became a sword saint.

"... Father"

"Don't call me father."

Heinkel's voice trembled, and he looked warily at the man before him.

Wilhelm van Astrea, his father.

There were dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes were bloodshot with rage, and Heinkel let out a short groan and bowed his head, attempting to speak, but no words came out of his mouth, only the tips of his lips quivering.

“You were the one who recommended Thearesia to the battle to subdue the White Light, and the one who took away the Sword Saint’s blessing from Thearesia. ... Was this the desired result? Heinkel? Did you want to become a Sword Saint even if your mother died?!”

Wilhelm's voice trembled, his anger and grief mingling to make it sound even more harsh. Heinkel staggered back, his head still bowed, and repeated himself.

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

But the voice didn't reach Wilhelm. After a stifling silence in the room, where only apologies could be heard, Wilhelm gathered his sword, opened the door, and left.

Hearing the thud of the door closing behind him, Heinkel repeatedly called out, "Father," but of course the sound failed to reach him.

Because of me.

Because of me, my mother died. My father left because of me. Even though I've been granted the most powerful protection of the Sword saint , I can't do anything about it, only hesitate and stumble backwards as incompetently as before.

Am I of any use?

No.

Am I good at anything?

No.

Is my existence worthwhile?

No.

Am I at fault?

Yes.

If only I had gone to slay the White Light instead of my mother, no, if only I had never been born, then my mother would have been happy, my father would have been happy, Luanna would have been happy, everyone would have been happy. But I was already born. I was born, and I've done nothing but wrong, and I'm living a worthless life. I am incompetent. Useless.

My wrists are carved with thin and thick lines, bleeding, stinging and aching, but this is nothing compared to the pain of those I have harmed.

I gasp for breath, letting the blood and tears flow.

It's all because of me.

It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me. It's all because of me.It's all because of me.

Then. I'd rather die.

Let's atone for everything by dying! Let's rid the country of useless, worthless life! It will be happy news for my mother, for my father, for Louanna, for Reinhard, for Marcos, for everyone, because I am the cause of it all.

I see a small rope in front of me. There is blood, tears, and laughter. With this, I can atone and make a small contribution!

Since early morning, Reinhard had felt uneasy. The mansion was eerily silent, and his body felt different than before. My father should be looking for me by now.

He scanned the kitchen, the drawing room.

I look in my mother's room, where my father often goes.

No one is there. I don't see my father anywhere.

As he walked toward the last room, his father's bedroom, the little boy thought. I wonder if he's still sleeping or if he's gone out.

That's what he thought.

"Dad?"

He sees his father's legs, a little bloody and wobbly. He looked up and saw his father's face. His face was lifeless and he wasn't smiling. A bug sticks to his eye and then crawls around him again.

Reinhard Astrea became a sword saint.

#re zero #re:zero #rezero #heinkel astrea #reinhard van astrea #Wilhelm van Astrea #English is not my first language.

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l1llina · 7 months ago

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Going up

Alhaitham x fem!reader

Prompt: He wanted her job and it would be easy enough to

After the dream Samsara, Alhaitham ended up as the new Grand Sage. However, he still misses his old job as the scribe. He asks around in hopes he can take up his old position again but he had already been replaced. His replacement was you.

Alhaitham despite practicing stoicism was upset to say the least. He was frowning slightly, as compared to his neutral, indifferent expression. He knew someone would take up his position soon but he didn't expect it to be that soon. He taps your desk and you jolt.

"Hello Grand Sage, how may I help you today ?" Y/N spoke.

On the desk, he can see texts from 100-1000 years ago. Stacks of paper are piled on top and there is a pillow, blankets and cups of tea.

"Hello. Scribe, what is your name ?". He asked.

"I'm Y/N. Are you looking for some documents ? I'm happy to help. Or maybe, you need to find someone ? Uhh, or uhh." She stuttered

Alhaitham was thinking. His first thought was Y/N was a different scribe than he was, more expressive, less poignant. She even acted like a sort of secretary even though her job was to record historical data.

"I am Alhaitham, I am not the Grand Sage so please just call me by my name." He voiced.

Y/N is sweating in her chair. Why was the Grand Sage rejecting his position. That is so weird. Why is he here to talk to the scribe of all people? Did he come here because she was suspicious. Did she look like the type of person who would stage a coup d'état. The last person who interacted with him was sent to jail, or that was what she remembered.

"I used to be the scribe." Alhaitham admitted.

"Oh-" Y/N gasped.

She was starting to piece what was happening but it still seemed he was here for something else.

The cogs in Alhaitham's head was turning. She doesn't understand and this was going to be an awkward situation. Just look at her, she's hyperventilating. This is going to take more time than he wanted it to.

Y/N is trembling. He was either here to get his job back, fire her for being incompetent or she was suspected of being a war criminal! In all those scenarios, her peaceful life would be over.

"I swear I'll get better at my job!". She exclaimed, hoping that was the reason he was here. For being bad at her job.

Al Haitham glanced over and these were his next words. "You are a better scribe than I was. You really seem to put your all into this job."

"I am actually here because I don't like being the Grand Sage that is all. I was hoping to be the Scribe again but here you are. It is well deserved, might I say"

Y/N blushed and smiled. His compliment meant a lot to her. She sighs too because he was a nice guy and he looked disappointed. She couldn't really do anything to cheer him up except give up her position but she can't do that. This job was perfect for her.

Y/N proposes "I'm sorry, you seem very nice. Even if I quit this position, could you become the Scribe again ? There's no better person for the Grand Sage but you.." She smiles

Truth be told, she was right. Nahida didn't intend to let Alhaitham quit being the Grand Sage despite his wishes, the only way would be to find a more competent Grand Sage.

"I have some ideas for replacements. Like, the Traveler or Nahida herself or maybe the Wanderer. Maybe even Faruzan could work. You should try before you give up. If you find someone we'll have a challenge to see who's the better scribe. If you win, I quit." Y/N smiles

Alhaitham looked at her this time, with his usual indifferent look. She was very kind and a little dumb. She doesn't have to give up her job if she doesn't want to. She's too nice. But a challenge sounds good, the job will go to someone who rightfully deserves it and both parties can leave satisfied afterwards.

2 weeks pass, and Y/N was right not to lose hope. Nahida actually budged on her decision. Alhaitham had found a suitable candidate and that candidate would take over but only if Alhaitham won the challenge and quit. Nahida is also very kind and it's a nice thing the people of Sumeru get to have her as an archon.

The challenge to determine who was the best Scribe was decided. Whoever could translate more texts within an hour wins, quality will be taken into account of course.

On the day of the challenge, Alhaitham arrived in a nice suit. It was to celebrate getting his job back. On the other end, we have Y/N who had eyebags from studying the night before.

It starts and Y/N manages to translate 2 whole texts in 15 minutes but Alhaitham was already on his 4th text. She was behind by 1 text. To make up for the loss of time, she translated 4 texts roughly in 10 minutes and decided to clean them up later. In the last 2 minutes, Alhaitham had 11 fully translated texts and Y/N had 10 fully translated texts, her strategy had worked, but it wasn't enough. The gong chimes and Y/N seemed to have lost. Her only hope was that her translations were better than his.

10 minutes pass and the winner is announced.

It's Alhaitham. He smiles with a wide grin. He looked so happy. Y/N was very tired but she applauded him. It was a good fight. She then slumped on the desk and fell asleep for the last time as the Scribe, in the Scribe's office.

At 11 pm, a silhouette is spotted. It carries Y/N to the couch in her office, covers Y/N with a blanket and puts a pillow under her head. He kisses her forehead and leaves a bouquet of flowers for her to wake up to. The night was a sad one for Y/N. It was beautiful, serene and joyful. It was almost mocking Y/N's current state. It's the end of her peaceful job and life. Tomorrow she'll be jobless. She'll find another job surely but how she'll miss her old one. She understands Alhaitham better and realised how much the two of them were similar for their love of being the Scribe.

In the morning, Y/N is gently woken up by her ex-rival, Alhaitham. He smiles at her with no malicious intent to be found. It saddens her but she smiles. He was happy now. He even looked a little red but Y/N was still groggy from the all nighter she pulled the day before.

He slowly slides an arm behind her back and Y/N leans into his touch. What a weird guy. She closes her eyes again before he hugs her. He was hiding his face in her neck but Y/N started blushing too. Was she overthinking again, why would a guy hug a girl when she just woke up.

A letter is slid into her bag. Y/N packs up and leaves to go home. Before she did, Alhaitham asked where she lived since he wanted to see her again. She tells him and leaves. Unbeknownst to her, Alhaitham follows and waits at a nearby café. He had something else he wanted to say to her.

"What's this in my bag?"

Hello Y/N, You have been recommended to be the new Grand Sage. I know it is very sudden but the previous Grand Sage and I agreed you would be quite suitable. Why you may ask ? Well first of all, you were the Scribe and our previous Grand Sage was a scribe too. Second of all, I believe Grand Sages have to be kind to the people and encouraging. How else would people keep learning if they aren't motivated to do so ? Please refer Alhaitham to give us your answer. Sincerely, Nahida

... A gust of wind is felt as the door of Y/N's residence flutters open. Y/N is running, she's crying, beaming with joy, laughing and out of breath. Alhaitham sees her and walks in front of her path. The sight of his cru- ahem friend was so beautiful to see.

"YES! I accept!"

The man was blushing. It sounded like something else. The people in front of the cafe started clapping. A few "CONGRATULATIONS!" can be heard. Y/N realises what's happening and starts blushing too.

Alhaitham readjusts his collar. "Noted. Greetings Grand Sage". Alhaitham pressed a kiss to her forehead. He was worried he was a little too forward but surprise, surprise. Y/N asked "Can I kiss you ?". An agreement was reached and Y/N and Alhaitham press a chaste kiss on each other's lips.

Oho~ How the tables have turned ~~

[-The End-]

#al haitham x reader #fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham #haitham x reader #happy ending

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soleilnomoon · 1 year ago

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Prompt: “I don’t like them; I can barely tolerate them.” for Abarai Renji. Once again, I leave it up to you what you wanna do (but maybe enemies to lovers) Yes, I might be on a little Bleach binge right now but it's okay you like it. kiss kiss

*hides face* ok, ok, ok, hear me out, let's pretend i didn't take *insert accurate length of time here* and say i wrote this in a few days. i am so sorry i took forever and ever with this but as u know i can only give u top quality work or else i'll never forgive myself. renji is.......well *motions to him* yk how that man is, he made me suffer!!!! in a good way!!! but still i suffered!!! yk how much i love enemies 2 lovers u big brained beauty 🤭 so ty baby❤️️ also this is my first renji fic and i can't belev it.

5.2k words (don't look at me, just don't), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, enemies 2 lovers, angst city, angst angst city biiiitch (yk the vibez babey), smut obviously, no fluff bc who do u think i am? feat. renji being a mean petty bitch (i guess that makes him a mean dom maybe yes), sub reader bc that's what i want; there's a party with alcohol, ichigo and co. make brief appearances, bathroom sex, choking (he's sf romantic), a lot of cursing bc they're grown that's why, renji is a beast when he's jealous, reader is a lil bit of a brat but lbr who wouldn't be in that situation; mutual ""unrequited"" pining, lots of tension, fingering, rough (consensual) sex, lil bit of degradation, lil bit of a size kink, lil bit of praise kink, idk there's probably more stuff but i'm so tired rn i can't think; um renji obviously comes w his own gd warning; reader is determined to not let this man win but, hello, it's renji he always comes out on top wink wink. (if u see spelling errors/mistakes no u didn't hottie)

“when i write about all of this it becomes its own kind of violence. / i retell the story as myth, as if it were my own body devoured.” — caitlin scarano & “so much of love is violence. the desire / to be split open, invaded, mangled / and made new.” — erin slaughter

HATRED X TASTES X SWEET

you’ve never been cut out for this line of work, but your insistence on eliminating all your shortcomings is commendable. brave, even. it’s something you don’t really think about unless you want to spend the night half-drunk, rambling about the things you should’ve done but never had the courage to do.

like telling a certain red-haired, bullheaded lieutenant that he’s the most ridiculous and excessively arrogant man you’ve ever come across. all in all, you’re pretty sure telling him off won’t phase him; nothing ever does, not really anyway.

at first you try politeness; your grandmother would be proud of how well you’ve learned to bite your tongue. it’s ungraceful, but you fake it well enough that others think your emotional maturity is far above theirs. little do they know, you actually have to literally bite your tongue; simply remaining silent isn’t easy for you anymore. so, when you bite, it’s with rage, months of unshed tears and accumulated spite; you bite your tongue so hard you bleed more every time.

your unsaid words bunch together — tiny soldiers determined to strike in unison without fail — and sit heavily in the back of your throat, ready to launch forward at your command.

but you never say them, and you choke more than once; an unbearable shame to carry with you as he continues to slash at your patience, thin ribbons cascading off you like confetti. you wonder if your anger will lead to your death— or if it’ll lead to his. you intend to keep all of that hidden, though, and keep reminding yourself that eventually he will tire from berating you, from talking to you as if you’re the most incompetent being in all of soul society, from looking at you like your very being disgusts him.

that’s what you tell yourself these days. you like to conveniently ignore the way his dark eyes linger on yours during meetings — you’ve noticed that people have taken to describing them as soulless, cold and critical, unimpressed at everything and anyone.

but you see him — all of him; the raw, feral, powerful and severe side that not many have the misfortune of knowing. they think they get the real version of renji whenever they deal with him, but they never do; you know that now. you doubt it’s even intentional on his part, or maybe — just maybe — he really does hate you.

to put it plainly, as you’ve told rukia and rangiku, the sixth division lieutenant has the biggest fucking chip on his shoulder. despite the walls he continues to put up to keep others from carving out a place for themselves in his life, despite the way his words roll around his mouth, clumsily coasting down the length of his tongue before they pierce the air around you with their toxicity — you’re tired of the way he purposely singles you out time and time again to point out your inadequacies without remorse.

abarai renji is also sick of dealing with you. whenever he thinks he’s found a means of scaring you off, you scurry right back more determined and more obnoxious than ever. which is rich, coming from him.

he claims you’re inconsequential, a nuisance — a pest, even — one that he intends to get rid of permanently. it’s harsh and he’s more than aware of that, but he finds that this is the most appropriate solution to his problem. he could easily ignore you; he could try to keep his comments to himself and try to be somewhat cordial whenever you cross paths. but he won’t. and he has no damn idea why.

“no, no come in, i have plenty of snacks for everyone.”

rukia’s voice is a constant in his life that he’ll always be thankful for. he watches her glide into the room, grinning at the friends she’s invited over, her laughter like soft bells that is easily recognizable even with all the conversation happening. when he feels his chest constrict, an uncomfortable, yet familiar warmth stretching over his skin, he decides to drink so that he can ignore the sensation and forget.

a feeble attempt, because he knows how this will all end — with him drunk off his ass in an even worse mood than he started.

mouth opening, renji prepares to tell rukia to get better sake, when rangiku leads you into the living room where he’s lounging comfortably. the bottle in his hand grows heavier by the second and suddenly he’s not very interested in drinking anymore. already, his foul mood from earlier returns, and every step you take only fuels his irritation; it bubbles underneath his skin, making him frown and grip the bottle tighter.

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s glaring at you — he always is. rangiku feigns obliviousness as she encourages you to go make yourself comfortable while she fetches snacks with rukia. you stare at both of them, wide-eyed, confused — a pleading look sliding onto your face after a few moments, but they assure you both that they’ll be back shortly.

with a sigh you sit on the armchair adjacent to him, determined to just remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll just ignore you for once. sitting up straight, discomfort finds its way to the pit of your stomach, swirling around as you fidget with the bracelet around your wrist. his eyes watch your movements with an obsessiveness that startles him; there’s no reason why he should be interested in the shape of your fingers, there’s no reason why he should be interested in the way you keep brushing stray curls away from your face, and there’s no reason why he should be interested in possibly fucking you when he knows for a fact that he is absolutely uninterested in you.

his disinterest runs so deep it spoils the taste of the sake, but he takes another swig anyway. the alcohol burns as it travels swiftly down his throat, and it just so happens that you glance over at him — innocuous, an attempt to gauge his annoyance level — as his throat bobs and your mouth dries at the sight.

you turn your face away quickly, a traitorous flush crawling slowly along your skin, unjustly warming your cheeks. inhaling deeply, you do your best to will the blush away to no avail. where the hell are rukia and rangiku? surely it can’t take that long to grab snacks. you’re tempted to go find them, but you have a sinking feeling that it would turn you into a coward.

and you refuse to give that man any more ammo against you.

IT’S X (NOT) X YOU

what initially starts as a small get-together, quickly turns into a party; leave it to rangiku to liven things up, her laughter infectious and whimsical, flitting about like a persistent hummingbird as she encourages everyone to play drinking games with her. experience taught him better than to engage because despite his high tolerance, there’s really no beating rangiku when she’s on a roll.

but when you emphatically agree to play with the rest, fury rises in his chest; your audacity, it seems, knows no bounds — and, yes, he understands the hypocrisy in his critique. he just doesn’t care.

the games are every bit as simple and ridiculous as you thought they’d be, but as everyone seems to be in relatively good spirits, you play along. not normally competitive with things like this, you get into the swing of things when you win round after round.

cheers resound nearby at your success, but throughout the evening, you feel renji’s stare and do everything in your power to not give in and look back at him. a tough feat to say the least, as you are always acutely aware of his presence; and when you do happen to sneak another glance, his legs are spread and you curse under your breath for finding that attractive.

foolish, you chide, so fucking foolish.

renji sucks his teeth as he feels a heaviness in his head; groaning loudly he swirls around what little sake he has left in his glass before finishing it.

“you lose again,” rukia’s voice is soft and teasing, but he’s annoyed and can’t be bothered with talking to her right now. she pats his shoulder gingerly before standing up to head to the kitchen. his mind is a mess and he blames you for it completely.

“i don’t fucking care,” he says gruffly to her retreating figure, not bothering to elevate his voice as he’s sure she heard him. and he really doesn’t care; he’s trying to tell himself to calm down, but he can’t.

the fault completely lies with you — of course it does, everything you do agitates every cell in his body. the reason is simple, and he hates that he doesn’t want to admit it — he’s so undeniably attracted to you that it pisses him off. he takes in your appearance for the twelfth time that night, admiring the softness of your cheeks, the fullness of your lips, the way you seem entirely too animated as you laugh at someone’s lame joke — and yes, he can tell it’s not funny from how your laughter dies down after a few seconds.

if he had better sense, he’d stop looking at you, but he can’t now; he might blame the sake for this later.

the intensity behind his gaze is enough to bring an inextinguishable heat along your skin. it’s only unpleasant because it travels down to your lower abdomen and brings about an agonizing ache between your thighs. at first, you do the sensible thing and ignore it; but the longer he stares, the more you want to look over, until finally you can’t take it anymore.

“i’ll be back,” you mumble to the other guests, although you doubt they hear you with how rowdy everyone is being; the noise isn’t unwelcomed, the distraction serves to mask your footsteps when you scurry from the living room to the back corridor, turning corner after corner until you find the bathroom.

a coward — that’s what you are.

you barricade yourself in there without thinking, heart pounding loud enough to disorient you. after several long minutes, you splash water on your face and take a few deep breaths.

“i can’t believe i ran away,” your voice is so soft you barely hear the words — almost as if you’re still in disbelief over the entire situation. there’s something off about renji tonight; the tension between you was more palatable and tangible than normal.

even though you feigned nonchalance as best as you could, there were so many moments where you couldn’t help but watch him too. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. there’s no excuse for it, and yet you struggle to find one anyway.

as you look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you try to convince yourself to head back out there. sooner or later, people will realize that you’ve gone missing — and rangiku is nosy enough and like a bloodhound when she’s drunk. your time is incredibly limited now.

there’s no reason for you to continue to avoid the inevitable, so you sigh and give yourself a small pep talk before heading back outside.

TRUTH X OR X …

renji’s mood doesn’t improve at all; in fact, it worsens the moment ichigo sits right next to him. he’s not even sure why this sets him off, but even closing his eyes and counting backwards does nothing to keep him calm.

with slight difficulty, renji grits out, “what do you want?”

undeterred, ichigo stares at renji pointedly, voice steady as he says, “you could go after her, you know.”

again, renji sucks his teeth loudly, arms folded against his chest, right leg bouncing slightly as he taps his foot on the floor. punching ichigo would be pointless, and then rukia would get involved and he doesn’t have time to deal with the fallout from that so he keeps his hands to himself.

besides, his anger is obviously misdirected right now. he knows — he knows —but he doesn’t care, so he doesn’t mince his words when he responds with, “go after who?” through his peripheral, he can see ichigo’s patience has also reached its limit.

“you’re not that stupid, so stop acting like it.”

normally, renji would take the opportunity to mes s around and argue back and forth, but he might actually fight his friend if he doesn’t walk away. so, he does; abrupt and without looking back, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

maybe he just needs to change his approach with you, maybe talking things out would work in his favor; or maybe he needs to fuck you hard enough to purge you from his mind.

he lies to himself when he considers the first option, because it’s the second option that drives him to walk a little faster, head full of impossible thoughts as he wonders just how far you’d let him go.

when renji finally finds you, you’re in the middle of rebuffing the advances of an unfamiliar guest — they’re drunk, handsy, and keep oscillating between giving you cheesy pick-up lines and berating you for rejecting them. but you stand firm, and your voice is relatively loud when you tell them, “for the last fucking time, go away.”

under normal circumstances, renji would let you handle this yourself; he has no desire to play prince charming or be a knight in shining armor. you’re more than capable, and he’s seen the way you fight and argue to defend yourself — but, it’s when they place a wandering hand on your hip that he loses sight of all of that.

a brief moment passes, where your blood boils as you contemplate how best to kick their ass, but you never get the chance. a rather large shadow hovers over you both, but you already know who it is without having to look properly.

renji is a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he’s at his fucking limit right now.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t give any options for retreat, doesn’t say a word when he yanks them off with a brute strength that surprises even you.

now, can he really be blamed for throwing them into the neighboring wall hard enough to make a noticeable hole? and is it really his fault that the drunk can hardly walk as they clutch their broken arm while murmuring something unintelligible, something that renji takes as a sign of them wanting a repeat demonstration?

consequences be damned, he gives the drunk a lethal look before they scramble away in fear.

“loser,” he says loud enough for them to hear, but they don’t double back or even try to go toe-to-toe with the hot-headed lieutenant. you watch, half-amused and half-impressed with the unnecessary machismo, but still, you know better than to chastise him right now, especially when your heart sputters out of control from his proximity.

“…thanks,” you say, a faint flush on your cheeks, voice soft, head fuzzy when you realize that renji — aka mr. “i’ll fight you on everything any day of the week unprovoked for no reason other than to drive you crazy” — saved you. unprompted at that.

you make the mistake of looking up at him, your nerves prompting you to take a small step back when you realize that the usual hostility that renji reserves for you specifically is nowhere to be found. in its place is something more unreadable — or, rather, you don’t want to read into it for fear of being wrong.

renji steps closer, which makes you back up again until your back hits the wall and you’re no longer able to escape.

“we need to talk,” he says suddenly, but you shake your head, non-verbally objecting to the idea, curls bouncing wildly with your exaggerated movements. since he knows he’s pressed for time, he grabs your face with his large hand and stops you from moving. “that wasn’t a request.”

swallowing rusty nails would be better than dealing with your conflicting feelings over renji right now, because he’s much too close to you and now you’re forgetting why it is you hate him in the first place. ironically, he’s in the exact same position. so far, he’s acted on impulse over you more times than he can count tonight, but he supposes that’s to be expected — you are a wildcard, after all.

“what if i don’t want to.” your response is clumsy, the words tumbling one after the other. “what if i want you to leave?” you don’t actually mean that, but you throw it at him anyway, to see if maybe this was all a fluke, and maybe, just maybe he’ll remember himself and you both can go back to fighting like usual.

he considers your question, goes so far as to release your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. your sharp inhale and parted lips tell him all he needs to know.

with a slightly raised brow, he asks, “well, do you?”

because if you do, he’ll walk away right now. but he knows what your answer will be, he just has to drag it out of you. he squeezes your neck to remind you to hurry it up, and before you can answer him properly, he places his leg in between yours, pressing close enough that you roll your hips forward while whimpering softly.

he really didn’t think any of this through, but luckily the adrenaline from it all won’t wear off anytime soon, so he’ll improvise along the way. he spent most of the night dealing with a semi-hard cock that wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how many times he tried to stop thinking about you. but now? all of that restraint goes out of the window, and before he can question it, he kisses you.

you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life — some good, most were mediocre and uninspiring — but renji actually takes your breath away. everything about him commands all your attention; from the way his lips move against yours greedily, leaving behind burning kisses that make your nipples harden underneath your clothes — to the way he thrusts his tongue in between your plush lips, licking inside of your mouth hotly, igniting an inextinguishable flame deep inside of you.

he grabs your hip with his free hand, squeezing hard, fingers digging firmly. all the irritation from earlier dissipates completely, leaving you feeling lightheaded and needy; you grind against him recklessly, arousal dampening the front of your panties, clit sensitive as it rubs against the delicate fabric. his cock presses against you — thick, long, and hard — and you wonder if this is why he’s so angry with you all the time.

was it always that simple?

if you asked the question aloud, he wouldn’t know what to tell you — it’s a combination of things, but mostly he’s an idiot; he knows that now, but likewise you’re an idiot too. you just don’t realize it yet.

it’s renji who pulls away first, lightly panting, breath warm against your lips as he releases his hold on your neck. he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to string together a coherent statement, but his voice is low and husky when he speaks. “answer my question.”

you blink at him, completely in a daze, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “wh-what?” you don’t remember what he asked you, and you don’t care.

“do you want me to leave?”

for some reason, you completely forgot that you told him that. you rub your lips together and run your hands along his chest. “no.” the answer comes out automatically, without hesitation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“good.”

SAY X IT X LOUDER

he picks you up with ease, almost as if you weigh nothing; a small squeal spills out of you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and renji gives you a sly smile — one laced with mischief and an unspoken promise of what’s to come.

you’re back in the bathroom again, this time sitting on the counter with renji standing in between your legs. his hands coast along your curvy hips and down your thighs. he’s touching you but he’s not touching you and it’s driving you crazy.

with hurried, eager hands you both undress, and for the umpteenth time you internally curse this style of uniform; still, it doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again, calloused palms rough and warm against your skin. he places a kiss on your jaw, then another on your neck right underneath your earlobe; each kiss he leaves behind distorts your common sense, makes you feel irrational and impatient. your hands are soft and well-practiced, stroking his stiff cock as his hips jerk forward from your touch.

he can’t remember the last time someone had him this worked up, which pisses him off a little; because that means him fucking you once won’t settle things. at that thought, renji bites your neck and your startled yelp quickly morphs into a moan when he runs his tongue along the mark. he dips his hand in between your thighs, rubbing his thick fingers against your slit. a loud banging on the door has you looking over, and you can’t remember if he bothered to lock it once you both were inside.

your attention nearly falters, but when he pinches your clit you buck your hips, a shiver shooting down your spine at the slight pain.

“eyes on me,” is all he says, seemingly annoyed that you would dare to focus your attention elsewhere, “always keep them on me.” what he means by that, he doesn’t know, but you take the command at face value and nod while swallowing. he slides a finger inside of your wet pussy, and while you initially wanted to keep quiet to avoid suspicion and to prevent anyone from intruding, but you can’t now.

“renji,” you breathe, fingers trembling as you hold onto the counter for support, he thrusts his finger in and out, quick and hard, before inserting another. you clench around him, hips rocking forward as he fingerfucks you and grinds his palm against your clit. you close your eyes and moan louder than you mean to, chest heaving, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. he scissors his fingers inside of you, but quickly removes them without prompting.

“fuck!” you open your eyes again and stare at him in disbelief. “why did you stop?”

he laughs darkly and grabs your face roughly, fingers pressing into your soft skin without remorse. “what did i tell you earlier?” everything about this situation is laughable. he gave you very specific instructions, ones he thought were easy enough for you to follow. for some reason your movements are sluggish, mind in a haze as you scramble to remember but nothing comes to mind.

as you open and close your mouth, looking every bit as adorable as you are alluring, he decides to show you a bit of kindness.

“get down.” his command comes swift, his patience practically nonexistent; precum glides down the head of his thick cock, but he ignores it for the sake of teaching you a lesson. you don’t bother waiting for him to repeat himself and slide off the counter. “turn around.”

like a doll, your movements are dictated by renji with simple, short statements. nothing about that phases you, though; it’s all very exciting, so when you do turn to face the counter, you bend forward and lean over the counter. renji admires the roundness of your ass and slaps it hard.

again, you find yourself moaning loudly, without shame and not caring about the volume of your voice. surely the others won’t pay attention, as they’re still very drunk and are entertaining themselves with more games. another slap on your ass has you grabbing onto the counter again, legs shaking, arousal dripping between your thighs in anticipation. if renji doesn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

he knows he’s taking too damn long, but it’s much more interesting making you work for him. he rubs the tip of his cock against your puffy pussy, gliding it in between your slick folds, your moans sweetly wrapping around him once he pushes inside of you slowly. someone bangs on the door again, making you look over, anxiety quickly filling your head with unnecessary what ifs that almost command your full attention.

with narrowed eyes, renji grabs onto your hair, curls soft in his hand, and yanks hard.

“the fuck did i say earlier?”

goosebumps travel down your arms as a different kind of awareness and clarity surges through you quickly. you blink at your reflection, watching the way he towers over you, his muscles hard and defined — sculpted from years of training and dedication to honing his skills. it hits you then, what he’s really asking you.

“to,” you swallow thickly, throat dry, “to keep my eyes on you always.” you say it all in one breath, gasping when he runs his tongue along the curve of your ear. you don’t know how much more you can take, but you know if you complain, if you say anything he might stop altogether.

renji’s smile is wicked and dark, his lips graze your earlobe, voice deep and gravelly, a huskiness that wasn’t there before as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deeply.

“good girl.”

he refrains from kissing you properly, instead pushing you down so you can lean over the counter again. your mind melts from it all, and you’re panting, heart beating faster and faster as he firmly places a hand on your back.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he remarks thoughtfully, although you note the slight strain in his voice; as much as he tries to act like he’s not that affected by you, you know that isn’t the case at all. your pussy is every bit as enticing and heavenly as he knew it would be; he pulls back and slams his cock into you all over again, filling you completely. you try to keep watching him in the mirror, but he’s fucking you like he’s angry with himself for being so attracted to you.

and he absolutely is. it’s a truth he fought against for so long that he’s given up on denying it now. your moans drip onto his skin like caramel, sticky and sweet, and when you say his name like that — your voice going higher and higher from the ferocity of his thrusts — he nearly loses his mind.

“fuck,” he says out loud, grabbing your hip roughly, your wetness coating the length of his cock, “you’re taking me so well.” he knows you can’t really answer him, and he likes that; you’re beyond caring at this point, instead focusing on the way his cock reaches a spot that has you bouncing your ass and fucking yourself against him. normally, renji would play around and edge you in retaliation, but he’s too far gone, completely under the spell of your pretty pussy, with how soft and tight it is.

you’re not sure how you got here, but you’re drowning in ecstasy right now. he instructs you to lift your leg to rest it onto the counter, pulling out momentarily to help you position and spread your legs further apart. he plunges his cock into you again, keeping his hips closer as he gives you shorter, frenzied thrusts. your head spins and you can’t think straight, but that doesn’t matter. all you care about is the way renji is angling his hips, rolling them forward to pound into your cunt roughly, balls heavy as they smack against your ass.

“oh, oh, oh.” you swear your life flashes before your eyes, because something possesses him, his strokes shorter, brutal, and frenetic. drool slides down your chin, your voice hoarse from how loud you’ve been. you’re sure someone’s heard you by now, but you don’t care.

how can you?

with renji fucking you like this — merciless and possessive, fingers brusing your skin, almost as if he wants to make sure you’ll be as obsessed with him as he is with you — your common decency, your morals, everything that makes you you, they don’t exist.

all that’s left is this burning desire to let him have his way with you for as long as he wants. thankfully, you have enough sense to not admit that out loud; who knows what kind smugness you’ll be subjected to if renji knew.

but you’re pretty damn transparent about it, he can tell from the way you can’t stop clenching your pussy around his cock, from how your pussy makes loud, lewd squelching noises — ones that he’ll commit to memory so he can revisit them from time to time.

tears roll down your cheeks and you sob as you hold onto the counter as best as you can, back arching, hips rocking against him with a neediness you never knew you had. there’s a tightening in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing as a flash of white practically blinds you. he watches the way your pussy keeps swallowing the length of his cock, and you finally fall over the edge, orgasm suffocating you with its intensity.

your cunt flutters around him, gummy walls soft and hypnotic, an addiction he never thought he’d have; breathing heavily, his muscles tense and renji groans something that suspiciously sounds like your name. the thought alone makes your face burn and warms your chest in a way that doesn’t make sense. and when he finally cums, he humps into you, cum thick and hot as it spills inside your pussy, mixing with your slick wetness. a completely messy affair, but he doesn’t care — it’s not his bathroom, after all.

legs trembling, you’re limp and incapable of movement, whimpering and whining until he finally pulls out of you.

renji runs a hand down his face, feeling spent but more than satisfied. suddenly his shoulders aren’t so tight and tense, and his mood is much more tolerable. you do your best to stand but almost fall — your legs are useless, turned to jelly because of the man behind you. he chuckles at that, then clears his throat once he realizes. he fully expected there to be a moment of awkwardness after, but it never comes. when he sees your face — lips bruised and swollen, face flushed, eyes glazed with a faraway look — he feels compelled to kiss you again. so, he does. it’s not sweet, nor is it tender, but it still makes your heart swell all the same. he holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, doing your best to keep standing, even though your legs are ready to give out.

you don’t know exactly what any of this means, but you do understand him a bit better now. he’s terrible with expressing himself, but you kind of like that about him; and maybe this isn’t the healthiest relationship, but life was uncertain and you’d take renji fucking you like it’s his last day alive over him openly hating you any day.

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grimalkinmessor · 11 months ago

Text

I made a little post complaining about the lack of a Light Bashing tag, and now the time has come for me to expand on what exactly counts as bashing! :D

Bashing is described as "villainizing a character, and representing them without any redeeming qualities", and "...demonizing a character, referring to them with derogatory terms, or making them the subject of deathfics or spitefics". Deathfics aren't so common for Light (L Bashing is more common in those, though I have seen Light Bashing in deathfics centered around L) but I think spitefics fit very nicely with some of the ones I've seen.

Generally bashing is a negative deviation from the original character's personality by either ONLY representing their flaws, EXAGGERATING their flaws, or making up NEW flaws.

In Light's case, this is done by presenting him as someone stupid, incompetent, heartless, cowardly, arrogant, and/or sadistic. And yes, given that Light is a villain, arrogant and cowardly do describe his character—TO AN EXTENT. The representation of these traits only becomes bashing when they're pointed out repeatedly and/or exaggerated. (When I say repeatedly I mean it becomes an underlying theme in the story rather than a single part of it, harped on rather than just mentioned).

Now, where I think a lot of people get tripped up is this: Light's looks do not count as a redeeming quality. If your story's stance on him is "he's evil and stupid and I hate him but he's hot so it's okay"—that still counts as bashing.

In fact, even if you DO feature his good qualities in your story, if the bad outweighs the good then that would count as bashing.

Now, where this gets muddied up is, again, the fact that Light is a villain. "But Grim," you say. "How am I supposed to write Light authentically if I can't write him doing bad things?" You can write him doing bad things! You can write him being evil and awful! In fact I encourage it!

What I'm saying isn't that you should morally whitewash Light—I'm saying that bashing is an ignorance of nuance in a negative direction. Writing Light killing people isn't bashing. Writing Light killing people for no reason or for fun is bashing. Writing Light being an absent lover isn't bashing. Writing Light being an abusive lover is bashing. Bashing is, again, a discernible deviation from the known character in a way that makes them worse than they are, or refers to them in a derogatory manner.

"Well Light IS that awful, he SHOULD be demonized! Light SHOULD be referred to in a derogatory manner!" <- this is ignoring character nuance. If you write your fics like this, I politely ask that you tag them as Light Bashing (preferably as Yagami Light Bashing or Light Yagami Bashing, given that there's already a tag for light bashing that isn't Death Note related) because this counts.

And you should do this for every character in your story!! Maybe you enjoy Light, maybe you do enjoy the nuance of his character—you might still ignore L's. Or Misa's. Or Matsuda's. Or Mikami's. Or Near's. Or Mello's. Or a hundred other characters that I haven't mentioned. Don't think I haven't seen just as many fics that ought to be tagged as Soichiro Yagami Bashing out there too 🫵

Bashing is not inherently bad. A lot of people like those sorts of fics, especially when they hate the same characters you do. But the problem the DN fandom seems to have is UNTAGGED bashing. There are several tags that haven't been implemented that honestly should be, and I think it's just because the Death Note fandom is so old. It comes from before the tagging system, from before AO3 was even a thing. Times where authors had to toss up a warning in parentheses right before the smut started 😅

But we DO have a tag system now—and a very good one. I'm asking people to pretty please use it. Help people that hate the same characters you do find your fics. Help people that love those same characters avoid them. It's only polite 💖

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neonscandal · 10 months ago

Note

"Sure. So for Geto it's mostly that I don't like villains with a bigoted ideology and he's too incompetent to even fall in the "love to hate" category. Really, the worst thing a villain can be is incompetent and Geto in Vol 0 is barely better than your average disney villain. Doesn't help that he never gets pushback on his ideals. Gojo tells him in Premature Death that killing people is bad, but that's it. He spouts his bullshit about how genocide is totally necessary and Yuuta stands there like "idk you might be right, but you want to kill people I care about and that's the real crime here". Nobody really engages with his ideology except Yuki I guess, but that was before he became an antagonist. I could forgive that to a degree if he was at least a real threat, but he isn't. You don't get any of that with Geto, he's not even fun to hate because he barely provides any pushback. He's a bad villain and I dislike him as a person as well. His descent into embracing the superiority of sorcerers and resolving to kill all non-sorcerers was well written, but I don't feel for him at all. Good riddance to the guy, I'm glad he's now dead both in body and mind."

I was so sad, when reading this, what do you think?

When previously asked about JJK Antagonists I didn't mention Geto even though... he is my favorite.

It should also be said that, in terms of scary movies, I love a good creature feature or a deluge into the supernatural but, the scariest movies to me? Will always be the ones with human villains because they're far more plausible.

That summation of Geto is that person's opinion so I, personally, am unmoved by it. I've seen so many piss poor interpretations of Gojo and Geto's characterizations that it's honestly just best to let the story play out so people can retroactively come to some sort of understanding. Moreover, I think there are a lot of people who struggle to concede that, between Gojo and Geto, there was always love. Without that, you can't understand his spiral, you can't acknowledge the humanity of the villain. Moreover, to not understand Geto is to not understand Gojo. And.. since JJK seems to very much be a circular parallel between SatoSugu and ItaFushi, if you can't understand them you miss the whole story.

I'd be curious what villain doesn't have a bigoted and/or radical ideology, especially in shonen? They're meant to be horrible and hard to empathize with. Unless that person's tolerance for villainy is Oikawa from Haikyuu? Most stories hinge on the main character espousing a piece of whatever makes villains.. villains. RE: Yuji being a cursed vessel, Denji being a devil, Tanjiro's proximity to demons, Eren being a titan, Kaneki being a ghoul... I'd argue Naruto and Nine Tails but literally haven't seen the show at all to confidently compare.

Even so, let's get into Geto.

Gorgeous, gorgeous boy. So earnest, so upright... so forged to break.

I recently went on a tirade about SatoSugu which I won't rehash here because... then I'll feel inclined to add more and no one wants to see an adult woman cry today.

As a character, Geto attempts to be incredibly principled. Design wise, he is stylized with features that liken him to Buddha which I think he individually plays into as well to give himself some sort of identity. From his long hanging lobes signifying wisdom and compassion capable of hearing the cries of the suffering, to his gentle chastising of Gojo's flippancy. He believes that the strong should protect the weak while also keeping the strong in check. But... how would a jujutsu outsider come to such a noble ideal?

We know next to nothing about Geto's parents except that they were not sorcerers and, based on his affectionate ability to recognize family beyond blood ties, I think it'd be fair to make some assumptions about what typically informs a characters predilection for the found family trope. 👀

His cursed technique, I think, creates an impetus for purpose. I don't know how he figured out he could do curse manipulation. But we know he swallows the curse, the likes of which is compared to a rag that had been used to mop up vomit, in order to subjugate it. This process, this martyrdom of ingesting the negative run off of mankind has to have a reason to justify his suffering. Because, as the only person we see with this technique, it must feel like a burden only he knows. Moreover, with a special class technique, it's not like he's given much of a choice. But if it helps people, if it has meaning, purpose... he can endure.

We've seen the perfect storm of events that, don't necessarily challenge his pre-existing ideals, but... force him to question whether the ends justify the means. We can call each of these events a moral injury and I don't think it's a stretch to say that there is a link between staunch morality and radicalism which I'm going to bastardize as saying a person may have their ideals on a righteous pedestal. Believing that if I do "A" and "B" then "C" is sure to follow and it allows them purpose and reason. But life is seldom free of other stimuli. I'm not going to go into great depth about examples of this but suffice it to say, this break in Geto's belief system caused an internal chasm we see immediately.

When Gojo asks him if he should kill the believers that applauded Riko's death, Geto said "no, there'd be no reason" which I believe is sufficient for Gojo since he readily leans on Geto as a moral compass. But Geto keeps rationalizing further, likely to curb his own impulse to kill those gathered ignorantly in celebration. OP talks about no pushback on his ideals but the truth of the matter is the biggest pushback for Geto is internal.

When he decided to slaughter that village, he didn't leave a margin of error to come back from. He had to keep moving forward, keep pushing to achieve this impossible world because to not would mean that the atrocities he committed were done in vain and we know, from his characterization, that he would not be able to accept that. Gojo speaks of Geto not starting a war he can't win during JJK0 which is empirically incorrect. When they parted ways in high school, Geto relented that with Gojo's power, his vision could come into fruition. They both knew he didn't have the means to achieve this but he didn't have anything else to stand on. So he hurled himself further and further from his previous path of righteousness and further from himself. He'd committed too great a sin to not give it meaning. To question it now would shatter him completely.

So much of what makes Geto compelling is the fact that he is inherently characterized as a good person, forthright and gentle. He'd have been a great teacher. In fact, the events that transpired between Gojo and Geto are why Gojo is a teacher in the first place. I believe he tried to be a great father figure to Nanako and Mimiko (again, let's forget the murder for a minute) because he pointedly did not raise them in the ways or traditions of jujutsu society. He protected them as best he could even though they still didn't survive their teenage years because they were ignorant about binding vows with sorcerers! Crazy when you think about it. Even what he thought to be a kindness to them cost them fatally.

Things happened to him, likely intentionally, to create this departure from reality and the jujutsu world. He was forged to break because he lacked the flexibility and nonchalance to not be overly concerned for others. He wasn't a diabolical genius, he was overly compassionate and at a complete and total loss when terrible things continually happened to good people who were already sacrificing so much. Riko Amanai was resigned to give up her short life to guarantee the future of Japan. Haibara was a ray of sunshine who, with the means to do so, wanted to help people. The twins were simply cursed to see things the other villagers couldn't, a burdensome reality that damned them to a life he was finding no meaning in, himself. His weakness perhaps lay in a weakness of character? but I wouldn't even say that, honestly. He's like placid water hiding a violent undercurrent deep below the surface.

The gap between who he was and who he died as should be jarring. It should be a demonstration of the grisly reality of jujutsu society. Where classes of 2-3 children are regularly pressed to fight beyond their means against horrors only they know. The sacrifices of the few to protect the many regardless of their virtue. That's the point. He was a casualty of a system that would always lead him toward a moral crisis.

#neon asks #anon asks #manga with me #manga with me jjk #geto babygirled SO hard #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #anime #manga #jjk meta #jjk character analysis #character analysis #jjk geto

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lazzarella · 6 months ago

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And, after another torturous seven days have passed, we are graced with another stellar episode of my new favourite show! Huzzah! And that means it's time for more notes that no one asked for from yours truly:

- *Bill and Ted voice*: 69, dudes!

- Ooh, Doctor, your jealousy is showing! (And Yak totally clocked it too. You can see he's thinking about milking it—when he mentioned Yei—but he doesn't let it hang over them for long)

- now I'm curious about his mum/parents...

- Okay, if anyone sniffed me, I'd find it odd because it's not my culture but I think the Thai sniff kisses are sooooo cute :3

- (Seriously, though, I'm still not over Yak giving Dee the necklace like they're steadies in the 1950s, ahhhhhhh, will I ever be over it?)

- Cher, Yei and Kao all clocking the necklace XD

- 'Fuck buddy' lmao I was not expecting that! And it sounds so much cuter in a Thai accent

- Kao howling like a dog lol

- Kao knows what's up! (With the, so you're hanging out, only sleeping with him, etc.)

- I MISS YOU!!!!! And sending each other flirty texts!!!! sdfjsldkjfldskjfdlk

- How many boxers does it take to change a light bulb?

- Dee is so cute in that scene, btw, all feigned incompetence lmao

- ngl, I want to try black sesame soy milk

- Awww! Coming in with the clown nose to cheer the little boy up! But oh no :( (I wonder if that's why Yak and Dee dress in the tiger and bunny suits from the preview???)

- 'It feels nice to have someone ask if you're tired when you're tired' Oh!!!

- Just... That whole phone call! Their little faces!! They're soooo fond of each other

- Boy, those nurses are gossipy! But I think that's pretty accurate from what I know about hospitals IRL

- It's going by too fast D:

- Dee's stripy shirt is so cute! He looks like a little boy in the 1970s haha

- Dee has so many tchotkes! And, ooh, my mum has that same IKEA lantern lol

- 'It's not fun for me anymore!' :((((((

- I love that he says it's over between them but doesn't ask for the necklace back!!

- Look at that pouty baby!

- There's the briefest expression on Dee's face as he walks away that made me want to scream, Inn is SUCH a good actor

- Guess we're getting some hints at what happened to Dee's parents. Was it the siren that made him flashback?

- HOLDING HANDS!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!

- Seriously, though, Yak is concerned (maybe rightly so?) about being romantically involved publicly with a guy, but he takes Dee's hand when he sees something's off at the crossing???? He's so caring I can't take it D:

- Damn it, I want noodles

- Ugh, Yak feeding Dee!! I can't take thiiiiiis

- HANDS AGAIN! Argh. I'm such a sucker for a hand holding/touching moment. This episode really fed me, thank you <3

- Okay, but I could write an essay on Yak's facial expressions in that bridge scene!! Like... Holy hell

- COOKING TOGETHER! So domestic ;__;

- ...or not lol well, it's still domestic, even if the end result isn't edible right?

- Dee teasing Yak is so cute arghhhhh

- Why does he have spray paint???? Why is that a thing he just has on the table???

- Oh! They're so soft!!

- Nooooooo! Don't finish yet! How am I meant to survive the next seven days after seeing that preview?! Life is so cruel :(

#wandee goodday #wandee goodday spoilers #long post #lazzarella watches tv

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infoglitch · 5 months ago

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Why am I doing this again? Oh right cause I'm one of the few who will die on the that crwby ain't shit-(god if I keep ignoring writing my shitty fanfics people are just gonna assume i'm bitch made)

Oh boy here I go again poking the damn bear with my shit takes-

(also before I begin I want to ensure that my message is given context, I hate crwby as writers not as people, I hope people don't misconstrued that because otherwise that's just gonna be frustrating to deal with)

Pyrrha is a wasted character and a PRIME example that crwby can't write women.

Oh boy pyrrha Nikos where do I begin with this cardboard cut out of a character.

So since a few (and I mean A FEW) people choose to live in denial of the obvious fact that crwby cant write and that to claim they can is possibly the most bullshit statement ever.. its time to take out the belt (bout to go Hellsing abridged in this bitch)

I'm mainly using Pyrrha because she is the most GLARING example of how bad the writing of Rwby can get.

Granted I am notorious for consistently and without calling Pyrrha the worst character ever (about as bad as later volume Blake.. then again just Blake in general- hoo boy I really am gonna piss people off huh?) this is mainly due to the fact.. she's quite literally a peice of cardboard and i actively cheer whenever I rewatch her death... Ok that last bit was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

Now to begin why I actively believe Pyrrha is terrible, we need to talk about.. the noodle knight.. sometimes I despise the fact I like jaune but regardless-

Jaune as a character is fundamentally a side character... Yet he has consistent screen time.. again.. and again.. and again. To the point where you could jokingly say he's the real main character since Crwby just love putting him in as much screen time as possible. (However I more take it as the fact jaune is just a scapegoat for Crwbys incompetence. But that's for when I piss of the rwde aspect of the community, because oh boy.. is there an argument I want to rip to shreds and call blatant bullshit.)

But outside of the screentime he is mildly interesting and has made a few actions that add dimension to the character... But why do I bring up jaune when talking about Pyrrha? It's due to the fact Pyrrha's entire character revolves around jaune.

Pyrrha is rarely shown to interact with the rest of JNPR, it's practically non-existent if jaune is not somewhere.

But some of you might say (and honestly I don't blame you and would agree with you) "Pyrrha is a side character, she doesn't need depth." To which.. yes... But she was a part of team JNPR, her death is treated as if it should have affected everyone. Hell her death caused ruby to awaken her silver eyes. But there's one problem.. technically two

1. Team JNPR (or more accurately JNR) are still active participants in the cast, you'd think them being side characters they would eventually be thrown away.. but they aren't. So that would supposedly mean their important.. which includes Pyrrha but if that's the case then why isnt she given depth, you can't three people of an extra be important enough to be a part of the cast and given development but Also have the other team member not be given some given some kind of development, that doesn't work either don't give development to ALL OF THEM or do the inverse.

2. she isn't shown to interact with team Rwby by herself, she's never given any scenes to show that she is friends with ATLEAST ruby, so her death impacting others that SHOULD be her friends doesn't make sense now because there's no scenes with her interacting with them by herself.

Every scene that is pivotal is in some form or way connected to Jaune, but even though characters like her can be good if written well, she isn't.

Pyrrha is never once given anything that is specifically to show off her, she's always written to focus on jaune. Even her death which was supposed to affect all of team Rwby and Jnr only was shown to affect jaune.

To many it may seem like it's not an issue she only showed up for three volumes before kicking the bucket and dying. So what's the point of talking about her?

Well from me specifically, the problem is the fact Pyrrha is not a rare case of bad writing, not just for characters either, may I remind you all of the white fang subplot. Don't worry I won't go into too much detail I'm writing an entirely different post about how the faunus/white fang subplot got swept under the rug because surprise surprise crwby writers are shitty at writing.

Alright time to get on my soapbox to sound all high and mighty.

to explain it simply. The white fang arc was supposed to be a lesson that is meant to talk about how racism is wrong and the fact that it only hurts innocent people, (both of obviously the oppressed and the innocent people who are unintentionally associated with the oppressor, hatred breeds hatred y'all know the phrase) but instead its not even given anything specific. This is especially a problem considering one of our main characters is supposed to be the protagonist that helps talk about the issue. Instead of anything specific that shows the faunus are oppressed and that humanity still has extremely bigoted and shitty people all we get is.. cardin and that's about it.. and then in volume 5 (or 4 I unfortunately lose track sometimes) it's just wrapped up with.. Adam being taken down and the white fang essentially being forgotten about.. the white fang, you know the organization that is full of faunus who do want equality but are somewhat misguided.. their apparently just disbanded after the piss baby that is "Adam Taurus" just gets defeated.. is it me or doesn't it make more sense to atleast hear mention of some white fang stragglers who still misguidedly fight in the name of equality. Honestly it feels like it got rushed and not properly expanded on.

To put it bluntly I find it just so weird that crwby has been shown to not be able to handle topics that are a little more nuanced and decided to sweep it under the rug, same with writing characters that could be interesting, but instead are just turned into cardboard cut outs. Yet there are people who claim that Rwby is better than any media *cough cough* the Twitter bastards *cough cough* which.. look i love Rwby to death, it's music is fuckin magnificent early volume versions of the characters can be.. minus jaune kinda (man does got a few bumps when it comes to being a fan) but Rwby is.. mediocre. But it's not it's fault, that's just what happens when writers aren't able to properly write a story, characters, a world for the story, literally almost every attempt at adding depth to rwby.

Ok.. I'm fuckin tired I'm expecting a lot of people to disagree (I'm praying the majority aren't just gonna throw insults and nothing else because honestly that just makes anyone look stupid.

Alright time to get off the soap box and return to the cave where I write shitty Rwby fanfics and equally shitty original story.

#rwby discussion #does this count as rwde?#nah its not.#rwby

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