#eve struggles once again

[druggedchicken]

WHY IS FINDING INTERNET FRIENDS SO HARD THESE DAYS PLEASE

i remember posting random stuff on twitter and people would just dm me or comment or stuff and it used to be so fun, what changed

[gree-gon]

picky cat

[crabbypalsart]

When Janet was fairly new into management at Roni's, Bacon made it a point to put up with her snobby behavior and her constant singling out of him. His ability to pick up people's emotions allowed him to determine that she didn't really mean any harm, and figured that she might've just been having a difficult time adjusting.

He saw no reason to escalate any of the conflict. However, with time he began to realize that she treated other people differently than him. She was much more respectful and polite to the other employees, and treated them as equals; she even treated Bits slightly better!

Whatever it was she had been trying to conceal with her seemingly forced hostile behavior, Bacon eventually decided it didn't justify a single ounce of her treatment towards him; so he eventually started returning it to her.

[ahmadwaleed555]

My 14th birthday during the War

Hello, my name is Ahmad. I’m 14 years old, and I want to share my story with you—one that comes from the heart of Gaza, a place I call home.

A year ago, our lives changed forever. The world around me grew dark, and the sounds of laughter turned into echoes of sirens. Every day became a struggle for the basic necessities: clean water, food, and safety. I watched as our once-vibrant community faced unimaginable sorrow, losing loved ones and friends—a total of 41,000 martyers, including 16,000 children. Some of them were my friends.

On the eve of my 14th birthday, I sat in our small tent with my little sister, Rema. She smiled at me, her eyes glittering with a hope I wished I could share. “We can celebrate, right?” she asked. My heart ached because I didn’t know how we could celebrate amidst the chaos.

The morning of my birthday was filled with joy, even in the midst of difficulty. Rema and I sat together, sharing the simple but precious feast we had. As we ate, I closed my eyes, making a wish. “I wish for peace,” I whispered. Layla squeezed my hand, and we dreamed together of a future where families like ours could reunite without fear, where children could play and laugh again.

I want the world to hear my story, to understand that even in the darkest times, there is still a flicker of hope. My home may be caught in the storm of war, but our dreams are strong. Each story shared, each voice raised in unity, brings us one step closer to the peace we long for.

So, I speak for myself, for Rema, and for the children of Gaza. Let our voices echo across the world, so everyone knows that we are here, hoping for a brighter tomorrow. Together, we can create a future filled with laughter and love, a future where every child can dream without fear.

@sar-soor @appsa @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @thatdiabolicalfeminist @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisectionmoth @belleandsaintsebastian @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @ot3 @the-bastard-king @pcktknife @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @90-ghost @skatehani @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @variantsofblue @schoolhater @thedigitalbard @socalgal @paper-mario-wiki @ibtisams @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @nabulsi @lesbianmaxevans @transmutationisms @buttercupagere @malcriada @dykemarcille @dlxxv-vetted-donations @paparoach @neptunerings @newporters @postanagramgenerator @alivehouse @meshugenist @mangocheesecakes

[hoonven]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

2.1K ⸺ a moment of clarity brings you back to your fiancé, flour-dusted and waiting, and somehow, amid the remnants of your champagne problems, you find hope stirring in the winter air

‎PAIRING! fiancé!park sunghoon x female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS! mentions of emotionally absent parents, brief mention of food, the reader struggles with overcoming childhood fears, i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything

Park Sunghoon was like snow, a silent beauty in the unforgiving frigid season of winter. He was the joy of building snowmen, the thrill of snowball fights, and the wonder of making snow angels. He was the delicate touch of snowflakes melting on your skin, the serene hush of snowfall blanketing the world. He was the sweetness of gingerbread cookies and the warmth of hot cocoa brimming with marshmallows. He was the comfort of a flickering fireplace, the softness of a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around you, the subtle perfume of winter spices from a burning candle.

Park Sunghoon was like snow—pure, ethereal, and timeless. He shone like the star atop a Christmas tree, his presence brought the excitement of a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He was the nostalgia of holiday movies you’ve seen a hundred times, yet never grew tired of.

Park Sunghoon was winter’s magic, a special spirit that blessed the earth in all its glory.

So why did you feel the biting cold?

It was exactly a year ago on Christmas Eve, and his proposal was perfect. The snow-covered gazebo twinkled with string lights, the crisp air carried the scent of pine, and a soft melody of carolers drifted from the town square. His hand, trembling but steady, had pulled a blue velvet box from his coat pocket. He smiled, warm and sure, as if he already knew your answer.

“Will you marry me?” he’d asked. The four simple words spoken in the kind of voice that could thaw an endless winter.

Your heart swelled, your hands shook, and you whispered a quiet “yes.” But later that night, as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the world outside froze over, doubt crept in like frost spreading across a windowpane.

Your mother’s voice rang in your ears, in weary resignation. You remembered how she used to sit by the window in the afternoons, staring out at a world she never felt part of anymore. “I gave up everything,” she had said once. “For my kids. For my husband. And look where it got me.”

The memory tightened around your chest like a vice. Sunghoon wasn’t like your father—he wasn’t distant, distracted, or cold. He was attentive, affectionate, and endlessly patient. But still, what if? What if marrying him meant losing yourself, too? What if everything started out great and then slowly got worse just like it did for your parents?

“Talk to me,” he said one evening, his voice soft but firm as he pulled you from the kitchen where you’d been stirring a pot of soup you didn't intend to eat. The engagement ring on your finger catches the light, a reminder of the promise you made but aren’t sure you can keep.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re lying.” His hands gently rest on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles. “You’ve been somewhere else since last Christmas Eve.”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard. You had almost forgotten how good he was at psychologizing you in the midst of your internal battle. But you lie again—because it's what comes most naturally to you when someone asks if you're okay.

“It’s nothing. I’m just stressed.”

“It’s not nothing. I can see it on your face. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

His persistence feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, but you’re not ready to let the warmth in. You pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if shielding your heart from his. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I end up like my mom? What if I lose myself in this, Sunghoon?”

The words hang in the air like smoke, and for a moment, his expression cracks—hurt flickering across his features like a candle about to go out. But then he steps closer, his voice steady, gentle. “You’re not your mom. And I’m not your dad. Your mom had dreams, ambitions—things she was passionate about just like you. But the difference is you found someone who loves that about you. I would never ask you to give any of that up.”

“But what if I do anyway?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “What if I forget who I am because I love you too much?”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said simply. “Every day, if I have to.”

His words chipped away at the icy wall you had built around yourself, but fear is a stubborn thing, clinging even as warmth seeps in.

You suppose that's why you're sitting on a couch, staring at the framed watercolor painting on the wall���something abstract, meant to be calming, but to you, it’s just a swirl of indistinct shapes. Your hands fidget with the hem of your knit sweater as the snow-laden world outside the window reflects your mood: quiet, heavy, and cold.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you back. Your therapist, Dr. Hart, leans forward slightly, her pen poised over her notepad. Her voice is soft, patient. “What’s on your mind?”

You blink, feeling the heat of her steady gaze. “Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing down at your hands. “Nothing, really. Just lost in thought.”

Dr. Hart tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Nothing’s rarely ever nothing. Take your time.”

For a moment, the room feels too small, too quiet, but you exhale and decide to speak. “Sunghoon,” you admit softly.

“Your fiancé?”

You nod, feeling a pang in your chest as the word settles between you. Fiancé. It’s supposed to feel joyful, exciting, but lately, it’s felt complicated.

“I love him,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really do. He’s kind, supportive, and everything I could ever ask for in a man. But ever since he proposed, I’ve been… scared?”

Dr. Hart doesn’t interrupt, her expression open and encouraging.

“I keep thinking about my parents,” you continue. “My mom gave up everything to be with my dad. She stopped working, stayed home to raise me and my siblings, and over time, she just… lost herself. She used to love winning lawsuits for her clients, but eventually, all she did was clean and cook and wait for him to come home. She became so bitter, and my dad barely noticed. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to lose myself like she did.”

“And you’re afraid marrying Sunghoon will put you on the same path,” Dr. Hart says, her voice gentle.

You nod, your throat tightening. “I know Sunghoon isn’t my dad. He’s nothing like him. But what if I am like my mom? What if, without meaning to, I give up who I am because I love him too much?”

Dr. Hart lets the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like you’ve built a wall around yourself, trying to protect your identity and your independence. And that’s not a bad thing—those parts of you are important. But Y/N, have you ever asked yourself this: is Sunghoon asking you to give those parts up?”

You blink, her question catching you off guard, and you're reminded of your conversation with him a few days ago when he pulled you out of the kitchen. “No,” you admit quietly. “He’s always encouraging me to do what I love. And reminding me to take breaks when I get too wrapped up in work.”

Dr. Hart nods thoughtfully. “It seems to me that the fear you’re holding onto doesn’t come from Sunghoon. It comes from your past—from what you saw in your parents’ relationship. You’ve taken that fear and made it your own, but it doesn’t have to be. You are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father. Their story is not yours.”

Her words land like a stone sinking into water, rippling through your thoughts.

“But what if I still mess it up?” you ask, your voice small. “What if I get it wrong?”

Dr. Hart smiles gently. “Every relationship takes work, compromise, and communication. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting on your fears, tells me you care deeply about doing this right. Sunghoon sounds like someone who sees you for who you are and loves you as you are. Maybe the question isn’t about whether you’ll lose yourself but whether you’ll allow yourself to trust you—and him.”

The knot in your chest loosens, her words settling like fresh snow over the chaos in your mind.

“Trust him,” you echo softly, more to yourself than to her.

Dr. Hart nods. “And trust yourself. You are not defined by your parents’ choices. You have the power to create the future you desire.”

For the first time in a year, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter. You leave the session feeling like the frost in your heart is starting to melt, warmed by the realization that maybe, just maybe, you can be brave enough to trust in the love you’ve found—and the person you’ve grown to be.

The smell hits you first—something warm and sweet, mingling with the faintest hint of something burning. You push open the front door, stepping into the glow of the tiny Christmas tree you and Sunghoon had decorated last week. Lights twinkle softly, casting shadows that dance on the walls, but it’s the sound of soft muttering coming from the kitchen that makes you smile.

When you round the corner, you stop in your tracks.

Sunghoon is standing by the counter, dusted in flour from his hair to his slippers, poking at a tray of slightly misshapen cookies. He’s wearing the most outrageously festive apron you’ve ever seen—bright red with cartoon reindeer and candy canes, a pair of oven mittens that look like Santa’s hands resting on the counter. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he lifts one cookie with a spatula, only for it to crumble in half.

“Oh, come on,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

You press a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sound escapes anyway, and his head snaps up.

“You’re home,” he says, his eyes lighting up despite the flour smudged on his cheek. “Uh, surprise?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, stepping closer.

He shrugs sheepishly, glancing at the mess on the counter. “I thought I’d try making your favorite holiday cookies. You know, the ones your mom always made? I figured it might cheer you up.” He winces as he looks at the tray. “But, uh, they didn’t turn out as planned. I think I overdid the ginger or… probably everything.”

Your chest tightens, but not with anxiety this time. It’s the kind of warmth that spreads slowly, filling the cracks you’ve been carrying.

You see it then, as clear as the frost on the windowpane: you are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father.

Your mother gave up everything, but you won’t. You’ve built a life filled with love, with purpose, with someone who sees you for who you are and encourages you to be more. Sunghoon doesn’t take from you—he gives.

The thought warms you like a fire on a cold winter night.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice catching.

He frowns, stepping toward you. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at therapy?”

You shake your head, and before he can say anything else, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He freezes for a moment, surprised, then melts into the hug, his arms slipping around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “And I'm sorry for being so distant, for letting my fears get in the way. You’ve been so patient with me, and I should’ve trusted you more. Trusted myself more. I should’ve trusted us more.”

“I love you, Sunghoon, and I want to marry you.” You say, the words spilling out like a confession. “I just needed time to remember that I’m not her. And you’re not him.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his touch gentle. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I just wanted to remind you that I’m here, no matter what.”

You pull back slightly to look at him, tears pricking your eyes. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” you ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze is steady, warm, as he cups your cheek with his flour-dusted hand. “We’re gonna be more than okay. You’re not her, Y/N. You’re you—stubborn in all the best ways.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “And you’re stuck with me, reindeer apron and all.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, light and free. “You look ridiculous by the way,” you say, brushing a smudge of flour from his cheek.

“Ridiculously handsome,” he counters with a grin.

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss him, a silent promise in the way your lips meet. Outside, snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a quiet peace. And in his arms, you finally feel warm.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[thepunkmuppet]

the possible future of the hatchetfield series: hatchetfield halloween party livestream full rundown

again apologies if someone has already done something like this, but I’m procrastinating doing my coursework and just want to talk about hatchetfield I want everyone to be aware of this exciting stuff that was announced in the stream so here you go:

the next starkid musical to be released will not be in the hatchetfield universe.

the guy who didn’t like musicals will soon be ready to license.

nightmare time 3 was originally planned to be released in the same year as nightmare time 2 and will wrap up the overarching nightmare time stories (which seem to be miss holloway and the foster sisters respectively).

if they did a fourth hatchetfield musical, it would be about miss holloway and her backstory. it is already written. I am very very extremely normal about this fact 😃

there is a possibility of a hatchetfield movie, and workin’ boys was sort of a test for this concept. it would be a slasher murder mystery centering around the hatchetfield community players (zoey chambers and the cast of workin’ girls, possibly also with ruth, hidgens, alice and any other theatre-oriented characters but that part’s just my speculation). the transcription of the teaser description can be found below the nmt descriptions.

ok so here are the transcriptions of the nmt3 episode descriptions:

Story #1: Bottle Imps

Bill Woodward has been chosen to test CCRP’s latest and greatest product; Bottle Imps. These reality-bending buddies will bring their owner the one thing they desire most. When his new imp, Lovely, leads him to his soulmate, Bill decides to use his magical companion to play matchmaker. But to help Charlotte find the man of her dreams, Bill will have to bend the Imp’s rules. Rules he’s been warned, must never be broken…

Story #2: Frankenruth

Desperate to see a naked body, Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipschitz volunteer at the morgue of St. Damien’s Hospital. Their terrible plan becomes exponentially more terrible, when they become unwitting subjects in the experiments of the body-snatching madman, Doctor Laszlo, who claims to have conquered death itself. If Hatchetfield thought Ruth was bad before, then they will cower before the unspeakable horror of… Frankenruth!

Story #3: Becky Barnes Climbed a Tree

Becky Barnes is on top of the world! Not in a literal sense, of course. She’s deathly afraid of heights. After years of struggle, Becky’s life is finally everything she dreamed it would be. She’s engaged to her high school sweetheart, Tom Houston, and the two have a surprise baby on the way! But, as the couple prepare for the arrival of baby Marie, a shadow from Becky’s past returns to haunt them.

Story #4: Devil’s Night

Tim Houston has a crush. Unfortunately, it’s on his older, mature and totally cool babysitter, Grace Chasity, who he fears will never see him as anything but a snot-nosed little kid. But when a devilish maniac with murderous designs on Grace attacks Hatchetfield the night before Halloween, Tim must protect his beloved, or join the killer’s growing body count. It’s another slashing adventure on the night HE came home… Devil’s Night.

Story #5: (long special episode) Miss Holloween

It’s Halloween in Hatchetfield once again, and Miss Holloway is celebrating the same way she’s done for decades, staving off the horrors that go bump in the night. But when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway begins to chafe under the terms of a contract forged many years ago. She strikes a new bargain, but unfortunately her creditors are known for their tricks, not treats. Just as Miss Holloway gives up her powers in exchange for a mortal life, a monstrous new threat rears its ugly head. As All Hallows Eve descends, and all Hell breaks loose, Miss Holloway must save the town or die trying… for real this time.

Story #6: (long special episode / season finale) Orb Weaver

Lex Foster had a life once. A home. A boyfriend. Now there is only the road, and her sister, and the fear of the men who are hunting them. As Hannah Foster watched Lex sink deeper into despair, she is certain of only three things: Webby is gone. She cannot help them. They are alone. Elsewhere, an old soldier awakens from a catatonic state. Returned from some unimaginable Hell with a mission. He knows that somewhere, two magical girls require immediate evac… then maybe some coffee.

very important: if you want nightmare time 3, WATCH NIGHTMARE TIME 2. BUY A TICKET TO THE LIVESTREAM. SHOW THAT THERE IS LOVE AND DEMAND AND IT’S WORTH THEIR TIME AND MONEY I AM BEGGING YOU

hatchetfield movie: Cast Party Massacre

The Hatchetfield Community Players. You will never find a cattier troupe of two-faced thespians. But when the blood begins to flow at their latest show’s cast party, they must consider: is there a secret murderer in their midst? And more importantly, who amongst them is a good enough actor to pull off such a performance? Can they set aside their petty squabbles and tangled romances, or is it curtains for this ensemble? Who will survive… the Cast Party Massacre!

[linkspooky]

TOGACHAKO VS. FUFFY: How To Save Your Evil Girlfriend

So, once again My Hero Academia has failed to deliver on its promise of saving / redeeming one of the main villains of its story, and victims of its ficitonal society. This time I'm going to make the added argument that not only does failing to save Toga make the story worse, it also makes Uraraka's character almost completely hollow. While you can dismiss Deku's lack of character development as him being a shonen protagonist, both Uraraka and Shoto had arcs and Ochako's is effectively ruined by her failure to save Toga.

In order to make my point I am going to compare it to a villain redemption arc in another piece of media that does it right, Faith's character, and her strained relationship with Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A series which is overall anti-state punishment and pro-redemption and delivers on practically all the themes MHA promised us.

MORE UNDER THE CUT:

THE GOOD GIRL and THE BAD GIRL

There is a reoccurring dynamic between two female characters in media, usually between a heroine and a female villainness that I like to call: The Good Girl vs. Bad Girl complex.

However, if you were a Freudian you'd be calling this a Madonna Whore Complex.

To explain the Madonna Whore Complex, one of the biggest examples in other Media is Aronofsky's Black Swan. The entire movie is themed around the Madonna Whore complex, and the impossible double standards the male perception imposes upon women.

"The white swan and the black swan are not merely characters, and not merely characters that are relevant to Nina. The black swan and the white swan are archetypes of women. They are emblematic of the Madonna and the Whore [...] . The white swan is the Madonna, she is pure, innocent, the ingenue. The black swan is the whore, she is cunning and deviant. The seductress. Nina and her ballet counterpart Odette are characterized as perfect ingénues. Ingénues are young, innocent girls who possess qualities of youth, innocence, kindness, naivete and purity. She is the fawn eyed damsel in distress and in literary films she's often the heroine or protagonist. On the other side of the coin from the ingenue, we have the seductress, embodied by Lily and her ballet counterpart Odelle. The seductress is characterized by her promiscuity, cunning nature and sex appeal. She is the alluring femme fatalle, willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants. She's most often framed as the village. These draw parallels to Freud's psychoanalytical theory, a theory that suggests in the minds of some men they struggle to fully see women as fully realized and rather view them in archetypal categories." [SOURCE]

Black Swan is also a movie where Natalie Portman attempting to live up to the impossible expectations society has placed on her to be both the White Swan and the Black Swan goes insane, and quite possibly dies at the end of the movie.

Considering that Toga's entire story is that she is a shapeshifter who went mad because she could not fit both her parent's and society's expectations of being a "normal girl" then you can see why the Madonna Whore Complex is relevant, with the oversexualized, vampish, femme fatalle Toga quite obviously playing the part of the whore.

Before you call me a fraud for citing freud though, let me prove my point that the Madonna Whore Complex is quite literally everywhere in media.

I could literally keep going if this post didn't have an image limit: Jean Grey and Emma Frost, Jean Grey and Madelyne Pryor, Starfire and Blackfire, Raven and Terra, The Two Sisters from Ginger Snaps, t's literally everywhere all the way back to Lilith and Eve.

More intelligent takes on this trope play with the concept of the Madonna Whore Complex (MWC) to either present the archetypes as two fully rounded people (Catra and Adora) or demonstrate that it's impossible for women to fit into these two dinstinct categories (Natalie Portman in Black Swan).

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a work that challenges the MWC, by allowing both its good girl, and bad girl to be fully realized characters. My Hero Academia plays the MWC straight to a sexist extent by not allowing Uraraka and Toga to escape their categorization of Good Girl and Bad Girl, and also going out of its way to punish and kill the seductress for her sexuality like this is a slasher horror movie. Actually, it's worse than a horror movie because at least Jennifer's Body plays with the MWC in a clever way.

It's not just bad writing anymore Hori's writing has crossed over into actively murdering female characters to enforce puritan values, but let's not get into that just yet we'll talk about the writing portion instead.

I'm going to outline what BTVS accomplishes, demonstrate how it does this below, and then go on at length picking apart how MHA fails.

BTVS:

Shows Buffy and Faith as fully realized people

Shows the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Breaks down those two categories

Redeems it's bad girl

With that out of the way let's get the ball rolling.

HOW TO (NOT) SAVE YOUR EVIL GIRLFRIEND

This is the part where everyone in the audience is going to gasp. Even though I'm using Buffy and Faith as a positive example of deconstructing the MWC and redeeming a villain, Buffy does not save Faith. The two of them reconcile in the end, but Faith is not redeemed or saved by Buffy, and in fact Buffy is in part responsible for Faith's fall.

So, why would I say Buffy and Faith are a better example of villain redemption then Uraraka who at least did everything she could to offer a helping hand to Toga?

Because Buffy not saving Faith is THE POINT and Faith receiving redemption even though Buffy gave up on her is also THE POINT. Lemme explain, by starting at the beginning.

BTVS is a story that exists to flip both horror tropes, and the idea of the chosen hero on its head. The concept started out with Joss Whedon noticing that the Cheerleader is always the first victim in any given horror movie, and wondering what it would look like if the Cheerleader could fight back. If the Cheerleader was the thing that monsters ran away from.

Which leads us to Buffy Summers. Buffy is chosen by the universe to slay vampires, she is hero with super strength that can easily take on legions of vampires and often has to fight even tougher villains for each season's conflict. Buffy carries all the classic features of both the ingenue and the chosen one protagonist rolled up into one:. Ingénues are young, innocent girls who possess qualities of youth, innocence, kindness, naivete and purity.

However, after dying in the first season, and having to kill her boyfriend in the second season after he turned evil and inflicted a lot of psychosexual abuse on her Buffy has also got a whole lot of trauma. Which is when Faith appears on the scene. One of the first ways that the show challenges the idea of the "Chosen One" is that there are actually two Chosen Ones, Faith being the other Slayer.

Buffy much like Deku has a case of protagonism brain rot, but in her case she was actually chosen by the mystic powers that be to be the protagonist of reality. Buffy, who views herself as the hero of the story as a coping mechanism (we'll get back to this later) is suddenly challenged when the fates chose yet another chosen hero, challenging her pre-conceived notion that she is the hero of the story. If Buffy is not the only hero then who is she? What is all the suffering she's endured so far if it's not a part of her own personal hero's journey?

Buffy begins to dislike Faith on sight for projection reasons, before Faith does anything wrong. In a way Buffy herself the female lead is enforcing society's standards of the MWC because all the reasons Buffy decides to disturst and dislike Faith on sight are because she exhibits qualities of the seductress.

Faith is openly promiscuous, often comparing the art of killing vampires to sex, she is also someone who is proud of her power as a a slayer and uses it for her own purposes. She is a slayer for selfish reasons (apparently) while Buffy is the selfless hero. In the first episode Faith appears in, Faith, Hope and Trick Buffy is almost immediately hostile to Faith who has so far done nothing wrong for, trying to get along with Buffy's friends, getting a little bit too into vampire slaying and openly relishing her strength, and like occasionally making lood comments.

FAITH: Don't… touch… me…! BUFFY - yanks Faith off the unconscious vamp with one hand, stakes the vamp withher other. Then she turns to Faith who is breathing hard, high on adrenaline, rubbing her fists. BUFFY: What is wrong with you? FAITH: What are you talking about? BUFFY: I'm talking about you living large on the great undead here. FAITH: Gee, if doing violence to vampires upsets you, I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong line a work… BUFFY: Or maybe you like it just a little too much. FAITH: I was getting the job done. BUFFY: The job is to slay demons. Not mash them into sloppy joes while their

Buffy then escalates to like ableist slurs towards Faith within half an episode for getting slightly violent in a fight against vampires that were trying to kill her.

GILES: Well, Buffy, you have to realize you and Faith have very different temperaments… BUFFY: I know, mine would be the sane one. Giles, she's not playing with a full deck. She has almost no deck. She has a three. GILES: You said yourself she killed one of them, she's a plucky fighter who got a little carried away. Which isnatural, she's focussed on Slaying,she doesn't have a whole other lifehere like you --

The twist this episode is that no matter how much Faith tries to present herself as a free-spirit, she's actually a scared homeless girl who just happened to become the Slayer. Unlike Buffy she does not have a watcher, a mother, or friends to support her. She lives in the cheapest motel in sunnydale. The reason she's so violent against vampires is because she is understandably having a trauma flashback because her mentor was murdered right in front of her by a different vamp.

This is repeating pattern throughout the whole season, Faith is shown to be a victim of trauma, and occasionally acts in ways that are understandable for a victim like her to ask, only for Buffy to start mischaracterizing her as someone violent and insane and throwing the slurs.

You can compare both Faith and Toga as characters who are complex victims of trauma who society turns their back on and become bad victims, but Faith is a special case because we actively see her turn to the dark side. Faith starts out trying to be a hero like the rest and she practically does nothing wrong for half a season, and when she does finally make a mistake and become a bad victim it's the hero's desire to punish her and castigate her that turns her into a villain.

We actively see Faith's fall happen onscreen, and it's like totally Buffy's fault. Buffy throws her completely under the bus, because she's so desperate to see Faith as the Bad Slayer and Buffy as the Good Slayer. Faith is almost pushed into evil because of the MWC, the characters around her can't see her as a fully fleshed out human being so they are quick to demonize her when she starts acting like a bad victim.

So the two episodes appropriately named: Bad Girls and Consequences depict Faith's fall. In that episode Faith and Buffy are fighting vampires, and one human is mixed among the vampires. The human grabs Faith by the shoulder, and Faith thinking that the human is a vampire turns him around and stakes him.

It's a complete accident, something that Giles even says later on is an accident that can happen to any Slayer on the job and is completely normal. It's a murder that Buffy herself could have committed.

GILES: This is not the first time something like this has happened. BUFFY: It's not? GILES: A slayer is on the front lines of a nightly war, Buffy. It's tragic - but accidents have happened. BUFFY: What do you do? GILES: The council investigates, meters out punishment if punishment is due… I've no plan to involve them,however. That's the last thing Faith needs right now. She's unstable, Buffy. She seems utterly unable to accept responsibility. Shows no remorse.

However, even in the same breath Giles explains that it's an accident and not Faith's fault, he's also calling Faith unstable and irresponsible. Basically when they're not calling her a psycho (just hitting her with the ableist slurs), the protagonists all lowkey imply that Faith is somehow inherently violent and unstable because she displays symptoms of a bad victim.

I might also remind you Faith has not done anything to earn any of these accusations, until she kills someone in a complete accident. A complete accident that Giles once again said wasn't her fault and wasn't really a big deal.

FAITH: My dead mother hits harder than that.

Faith is stated to be a victim of physical abuse, heavily implied to be a victim of sexual abuse, and is homeless (none of the main characters offer to let her stay in her house she spends half a season in a terrible motel). However, Faith is quickly demonized by the white wealthy main characters for acting in ways that are completely typical for a homeless teenager.

The moment she commits one mistake they all turn on her and use that mistake as proof of these violent tendencies they all want to accuse her of having. Faith can never be the ingenue so she must be the seductress, because she can't just be a person.

Buffy: So, I, uh... (sees Faith scrubbing) How are ya doin'? Faith: (still scrubbing) I'm alright. You know me. Buffy: Faith, we need to talk about what we're gonna do. Faith: (looks at Buffy) There's nothing to talk about. I was doing my job. Buffy: Being a Slayer is not the same as being a k*ller. Faith has nothing to say. She's finished scrubbing. Buffy: Faith, please don't shut me out here. Look, sooner or later, we're both gonna have to deal.

It is essentially two episodes of this, Faith after killing someone on accident in a life or death fight is constantly called a murderer by others. She wasn't even like, drunk, or high, or being especially reckless she was being a normal slayer.

FAITH: So the mayor of Sunnydale is a black hat. Shocker, huh? BUFFY: Actually - yeah. I didn't get the bad guy vibe off him. Faith shakes her head. Scoffs. FAITH: When you gonna learn, B? It doesn't matter what kind of "vibe" a person gives off. Nine times outta ten he face they're showing you? It isn't the real one. BUFFY: I guess you know a lot about that. FAITH: What's that supposed to mean? BUFFY: Look at you, Faith. Less than twenty four hours ago you killed a guy. And now you're laughing and scratching and zipidee doo dah. That's not your real face, and I know it. I know what you're feeling because I feel it too. FAITH: Do you? So, fill me in. I'd like to hear this. BUFFY: Dirty. Like something sick creeped inside you and you can't get it out. And you keep hoping what happened wasjust some nightmare…

Faith is dirty, faith is disgusting, faith is unstable, Faith is sick for... killing a guy on accident in a way that Giles said was a perfectly understandable accident, and not showing clear guilt because the moment she did it everyone around her jumped on her and started accusing her of being a murderer.

Why do the selfless main characters suddenly start demonizing this girl before she even did anything wrong - well it's because she's poor problem solved.

No, but it does play a factor. Why do most american white middle class look down on the homeless? Because, they must have done something to deserve it, right? If Faith killed a man, that clearly is an indication that she was violent all along and the heroes don't have to sympathize with the fact she's homeless or you know lift a finger to help her.

Now, this makes it sound like I hate Buffy, but Buffy is actually my favorite character in the whole show. The thing is Buffy's complete lack of sympathy for Faith makes her a better character. Buffy needs to demonize Faith and throw her under the bus, because Buffy is a victim of sexual abuse too. Her boyfriend turned evil after having sex with her once, and spent an entire season stalking her and terrorizing her the entire season 2 Buffy / Angel plotline is a thinly veiled groomer metaphor.

The thing about Buffy is she's not allowed to show any kind of reaction to her trauma. The episodes preceeding Faith, Hope and Trick are Anne, an episode where Buffy runs away from home after being sexually abused (stalking is sexual abuse) by Angel for a whole season and feeling like no one would understand her, and Dead Man's Party, an episode where every single one of Buffy's loved ones ruthlessly criticize her for having run away. Like, how dare a teenager not react perfectly to being horribly stalked by a serial killer after she had sex with him for like half a year.

JOYCE: Buffy! You didn't give me any time. You just dumped this… this thing on me and expected me to get it. Well -guess what? Mom's not perfect. I handled it badly. But that doesn'tgive you the right to punish me byrunning away. BUFFY: Punish you? I didn't do this to punish you XANDER: Well you did. You should have seen what it did to her. BUFFY: Great. Would anybody else care to weigh in? What about you? By the dip. XANDER: Maybe you don't want to hear it, Buffy. But taking off like that was selfishand stupid. Buffy's breaking down. It's all too much. BUFFY: Okay - I screwed up! I know it - alright!? But you have no idea. You have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling

The reason Buffy is so hard on Faith is because everyone else is equally hard on her. The label of the ingenue is so difficult for Buffy to maintain, because she has to be pure, and without any flaws, especially when reacting to trauma that she throws Faith under the bus for her bad victim behaviors.

The white middle class demonize the homeless because they don't want to face the reality it can happen to them, Buffy doesn't want to reflect on all the things her and Faith have in common because she could very easily become Faith. Buffy is the victim of extremely similiar trauma to Faith, and being pressured to be the perfect victim of that trauma in a way that's destroying her mentally slowly.

FAITH: It was good, wasn't it? The sex? The danger? Bet a part of you even dug him when he went psycho BUFFY: No FAITH: See - you need me to tow the line because you're afraid you'll go over it, aren't you, B? You can't handle watching me living my own way and having a blast - because it tempts you. You know it could be you... ( Something snaps in Buffy. She rears back and POPS Faith a good one. Faith falls back, but she's smiling as she puts a hand to her bleeding mouth. ) FAITH: There's my girl…

Buffy is suffering under the expectations of the MWC too, but in her desperation to make Faith out to be the seductress instead of... like... a csa victim... Buffy is reinforcing those standards on both herself and another woman.

The entirety of Bad Girls and Conesequences is Faith being called a murderer by several people, having another trauma flashback to a sexual assault because Xander came to her motel room under the guise of "helping her", getting hit over the head and chained to a wall, then getting the swat team called on her and almost dragged to London for trial. Then the heroes do nothing to help her. The first thing Faith does is go to the main villain, who buys her an apartment AND A PLAYSTATION. So... the evil main Villain of the show helped Faith with her homelessness situation while none of the main characters lifted a finger.

it sounds like it sucks but it doesn't because it's all intentional. Buffy cannot process her own sexual trauma so she is just awful to people who are also domestic abuse victims. here's one of my favorite scenes, Buffy yells at a girl being beaten by her boyfriend with a visible black eye.

Buffy: Where can we find him? Debbie: I-I don't know. Buffy: You're lying. Debbie: What if I am? What are you gonna do about it? Willow: Wrong question. Buffy takes her by the arm again and pushes her up against the sink in front of the mirror. Buffy: Look at yourself. Why are you protecting him? Anybody who really loved you couldn't do this to you. She takes a few steps away. Debbie turns around to face them. Debbie: Would they take him someplace? Buffy: Probably. Debbie: (shakes her head, sobbing) I could never do that to him.(Willow sighs) I'm his everything. Buffy: (disgusted) Great. So what, you two live out your Grimm fairy tale? Two people are dead.

That poor girl gets her neck snapped like five minutes later and Buffy just kinda, moves on even though it would have been an easily preventable death.

Buffy getting mad at an abuse victim for showing textbook behaviors of abuse victims in bad relationships. Buffy is a good character because she is a hero, she can be empathic, but she really only understands heroism in term of defeating the bad guys, and when called to relate to people with complex trauma, especially trauma that reflects her own trauma she can't! She just can't process it! The expectations of being the ingenue, the perfect hero are so crushing she can't cope with a messy reality so she needs to have a black and white view of herself and other people.

Buffy needs to be firmly in the good category, and Faith needs to be firmly in the bad category in order for Buffy's brain to keep working.

Not only does Buffy's conflict with Faith characterize how much Faith suffers for being a bad victim, it shows how the pressure to be a good victim destroys Buffy mentally to the point where she starts using Faith as a punching bag.

Literallly.

It's all intentional too, Buffy gets called out on it, Faith always gets the last word and the final episode of the season makes out Buffy to be a hypocrite. After Buffy literally threw Faith under the bus, called her disgusting for murdering a man, Buffy is completely willing to murder Faith to get a cure for her vampire boyfriend who's been poisoned.

All human life is sacred and needs to be protected, but Fuck Faith I guess.

Faith: I could say the same about you. I mean, you're still the same better-than-thou Buffy. I mean, I knew it somehow. I kept having this dream, I'm not sure what it means, but in the dream the self-righteous blond chick stabs me, and you wanna know why? Buffy: You had it coming. Faith: That's one interpretation, but in my dream, she does it for a guy. Faith: I wake up to find the blond chick isn't even dating the guy she was so nuts about before. I mean, she's moved on to the first college beefstick she meets. Not only has she forgotten about the love of her life, but she's forgotten about the chick she nearly k*lled for him. So that's my dream. That and some stuff about cigars and a tunnel. But tell me, college girl, what does it mean? Buffy: To me? Mostly, that you still mouth off about things you don't understand. (Sirens) Uh-oh. I guess somebody knows you're here.

So the show goes to great length to show you that there are two sides to this conflict, Buffy demonizes Faith, because her friends expect her to be the perfect hero. Faith reacts badly to trauma because she has no support system, and the people around her have no empathy for her because they're too privileged to imagine the things in Faith's life ever happening to her.

Buffy and Faith are fully realized people.

Buffy and Faith are presented to the audience as the ingenue and the seductress but they're both fully realized characters. Buffy's not the ingenue because she's just as capable of murder as Faith is. Faith isn't the seductress because she's a homeless teenager. They are both victims of sexual trauma, though one reacts in what people consider an "acceptable way" and the other is a total slut about it.

Shows the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Buffy throws Faith under the bus specifically because the pressure in her life to be the perfect slayer is so immense that it could be her that takes the fall so she needs to believe in black and white concepts like she is inherently good and Faith is inherently bad to justify the bad things that happen to Faith and therefore convince herself said bad things could never happen to her. "You can't handle watching me living my own way and having a blast - because it tempts you. You know it could be you..."

Faith: Angel said there was no way you were gonna give me a chance. Buffy: I gave you every chance! I tried so hard to help you, and you spat on me. My life was just something for you to play with. Angel - Riley - anything that you could take from me - you took. I've lost battles before - but nobody else has -ever- made me a victim. Faith: And you can't stand that. You're all about control. You have no idea what it's like on the other side! Where nothing's in control, nothing makes sense! There is just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything. You can't even.. Buffy: Shut up!"

Buffy needs to fit her and Faith into neat little boxes because she cannot face the inherent senselessness of the world (and also that she is a victim too "you made me a victim")

Breaks down those two categories

Even in Seasons where Faith is not present she haunts the narrative, because the writers were well aware that Buffy and Faith are the same person under different circumstances.

All of Season 6 Buffy is faced with many of the same situations that Faith was, she suddenly becomes poor and in danger of losing her house, she has extreme depression from coming back from the dead (long story) she can't share those feelings with any of her friends because they treated her much like they did Faith - having no sympathy for imperfect victims. Buffy even gets into an unhealthy, sexual relationship, and like Natalie Portman basically changes from the ingenue into the seductress.

A relationship she has to keep a secret because once again, Buffy must fit into the box of the ingenue in order to be loved by her friends. This leads to her committing several bad behaviors, and at times borderline emotional abuse towards her sister (and debatably her boyfriend) and all comes to a head when Buffy is faced with the exact same situation as Faith.

Buffy in Season 6 believes she has killed a person accidentally while being the Slayer. It's a repeat of Bad Girls with several paralels, including someone trying to hide the body only for it to turn up later, and Buffy insisting she has to turn herself into the police and face jailtime.

However, in this version Buffy unlike Faith has friends who try to stop her from turning herself in and explain to her the murder wasn't her fault - and Buffy still reacts the same way Faith does. She basically borderline quotes Faith.

Faith: Shut up! Do you think I'm afraid of you? [Faith grabs Buffy and throws her down, then sits on top of her and starts punching her.] Faith: You're nothing. [Punch. Punch.] Faith: Disgusting. [Punch. Punch.] [Faith grabs Buffy's hair with both hand and bangs her head.] Faith: Murderous bitch. [Bang. Bang...] You're nothing. [Bang. Bang...] Faith: [Switches back to punches] You're [Faith is now crying.] disgusting.

This is an earlier scene which plays out as an exact parallel to this scene:

BUFFY: You can't understand why this is killing me, can you? SPIKE: Why don't you explain it? She hits him a few more times. He takes it, not fighting back. SPIKE: Come on, that's it, put it on me. Put it all on me. (She kicks him) That's my girl. BUFFY: (yelling) I am not your girl! She hits him hard. He falls back onto his butt. Buffy gets on top of him and begins hitting him over and over. BUFFY: You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl! She continues hitting him throughout this. Now Spike goes back to human face. He's looking very bruised and bloody, but he doesn't fight back, just takes it. Buffy hits him again and again, looking angry and desperate. Finally she stops and looks at him in horror.

So if Buffy can react the exact same way that Faith does, when faced with the same trauma there is no good girl or bad girl, there's only two people who are complicated human beings.

The story *gasp* lets the hero be a bad girl.

Redeems it's bad girl

Faith's redemption is a shocking contrast to MHA the plot of BTVS does not allow Faith to commit suicide in order to redeem herself. In fact, her entire arc is an argument against the "put her down like a mad dog" trope. Starting with the fact that the heroes who are partly responsible for Faith's fall in the first place, are all too willing to just let the homeless teenager fall by the wayside, and then put her down for her own sake.

As I stated above, the inherent hypocrisy Buffy shows in her calling Faith a murderer and irredeemable for killing someone on accident because all human life is sacred to her, and then going on to try to murder Faith at the end of the season already shows the "put her down like a mad dog" argument doesn't work. Faith isn't too far gone, it's just Buffy who sees her that way. And because Buffy has given up on Faith she's failing at being a hero.

As I said above, Buffy is not the one to rescue Faith. In fact, in the episodes where Faith's redemption arc starts, Buffy is the one trying to hunt her down and enforce punishment on her. The episodes "5x5" and "Sanctuary" are both focused on Buffy going to LA to hunt down and interfere when Angel is trying to help Faith get back on her feet. The two episdodes basically explore the concept of redemption vs. punishment and how punishment saves no one.

5x5 depicts Faith's spiral as she runs away to LA to escape Buffy who is hunting her down, and accepts a job to assassinate Angel, which if she succeeds will get her rich and also get the cops off of her trail. We're led the whole episode to believe Faith has learned nothing until the confrontation with Angel at the very end, which you should really watch because it's great television.

Faith: You hear me? - You don't know what evil is! - I'm bad! - Fight back! Faith keeps whaling on Angel, sometimes he ducks, sometimes the hits connect. Angel grabs a hold of her: Nice try, Faith. He tosses her away from him. Then walks after her. Angel: I know what you want. She hits him and he hits back dropping her. She comes back up hitting and screaming, but not making much of a dent. Wesley leans out of the window and sees Faith beating up on Angel. He goes into the kitchen and grabs a butcher knife, then heads for the door. Angel as he dodges another hit: I'm not gonna make it easy for you. Faith throws herself against Angel screaming: I'm evil! I'm bad! I'm evil! Do you hear me? I'm bad! Angel, I'm bad! (She begins to sob, grabbing a hold of Angel's shirt and shaking him) I'm ba-ad. Do you hear me? I'm bad! I'm bad! I'm bad. Please. Angel, please, just do it. Wesley comes running out of the house. Faith sobbing: Angel please, just do it. Just do it. Just k*ll me. Just k*ll me." Angel wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her against him. She over balances them and they sink to their knees, Angel still holding her as she cries. Angel: Shh. It's all right. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh.

Faith tries to take the Toga approach to commit suicide in order to atone, but Angel actively understands that is what she's trying to do, and denies her the chance to die to redeem herself and instead holds her until she calms down.

Angel doesn't just save her once though he spends the entire next episode defending Faith from Buffy who has come to LA to take her revenge, and trying to talk Faith into believing she can still keep on living in spite of all the bad things she's done.

Faith: Are you saying I got to apologize? Angel: Think you can? Faith: I don’t' know. - How do you say 'Gee, I'm really sorry tortured you I nearly to death? Angel: Well, first off I think I'd leave off the 'Gee.' And secondly I think you have to ask yourself: are you? Faith: What? Angel: Sorry. Faith: And what if I *can't* say it? There are some things you can't just take back, no matter how sorry you *are*, right? Angel: Yeah, there are. I've got some experience in that area. Faith: Right. And you've been doing this for a hundred years! I'm not gonna make it through the next ten minutes. Angel: So make it through the next five, the next minute." Faith: "I don't think I can. Angel: Yes, you can. Faith walks away: God, it hurts. I hate that it hurts like this. Angel follows her: Oh well, it's supposed to hurt. All that pain, all that suffering you caused is coming back on you. Feel it! Deal with it! Then maybe you've got a shot at being free.

Angel's advice is "Guilt is supposed to hurt but if you face your pain you can try to find a way to be free of it" which is something much more profound then any of the forgiveness crap they peddle in MHA. More importantly though, the conflict the whole episode goes out of its way to show that revenge is bad, and punishment doesn't save a soul.

Angel: I didn't - I didn't think it was your business. Buffy: Not my business? Angel: I needed more time with Faith. I'm not sure... Buffy: You needed - do you have any idea what it was like for me to see you with her? That you went behind my back... Angel: Buffy, this wasn't about you! This was about saving someone's soul. Buffy: I came here because you were in danger. Angel: I'm in Danger every day. You came here because of faith. You were looking for vengeance. Buffy: I have a right to it. Angel: Not in my city.

Faith's suicidal ideation is a recurring theme that carries through her character arc in the following season - she does in fact go to prison for awhile (Elizabeth Dushku had to go make Bring it On) but Buffy remains anti-state punishment because going to Prison doesn't help her whatsoever. In fact, she just breaks out when she has to save Angel and spends the rest of the season free.

There are two episodes that actually are dedicated to showing prison didn't help, and what Faith needs to redeem herself is to spend every day of her life trying to be good, not just accepting punishment.

ANGEL: Faith, wake up! FAITH: (wakes) I've rolled the bones. You for me. ANGEL: I used to think that. That there'd be a point when I'd paid my dues. Angel and Angelus are fighting in the alley again. Angel leaves the fight and goes over to Faith's side, holding her up in his arms. ANGEL: Faith, listen to me. You saw me drink. It doesn't get much lower than that. And I thought I could make up for it by disappearing. FAITH: I did my time. ANGEL: Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything. FAITH: It hurts. ANGEL: I know. I know. ANGEL: Get up! You have to get up now. Faith, you have to fight. I need you to fight. Do you understand what I'm saying?

So you have one manga series where the teenage girl who did bad things commits suicide because she believed she was going to be in prison for the rest of her life and had no future, and you have the other where the teenage girl tries to commit suicide - only for Angel to stop her and encourage her every step of the way that there's still a future for her even if she can't be "forgiven".

One work ends Toga's life because she's done "unforgivable things" and the other tells Faith that the things she should feel guilty for the things she's done, and she should feel that guilt so she can keep working to be a better person every single day.

One of these is a good message to send to your teenage homeless trauma victim, the other is incredibly harmful. With that out of the way let's switch to BNHA.

HOW TO BURY YOUR GAYS

Now I'm going to attempt to demonstrate why MHA fails to truly deconstruct the MWC, and this not only ruins any potential character development for Uraraka, it also sends a deeply harmful message with Toga's death.

I think I've gone to great length above explaining how BTVS communicates it's stance of being anti-punishment and pro-redemption and even goes as far to demonstrate how punishment does not save anyone. Yet, here is the manga about heroes saving people that completely fumbles those exact same themes.

MHA:

Doesn't show Toga and Ochako as fully realized people

Doesn't show the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Doesn't break down down those two categories

Doesn't redeem it's bad girl

So let me start by saying outside of the context of the story Ochako and Toga both had the potential to be great characters. Unforunately this isn't Gacha, so the way the characters are written in the story, and the quality of their story arcs affects how well they are characterized.

Toga is much better off as a character as opposed to Ochako who sort is reduced to a satellite that revolves around Deku, but their story arcs and the way they conclude does a disservice to both of them as characters. They fail entirely to be shown as fully realized people by their narratives, because of the narratives desire to force them into the good girl and bad girl box.

More or less, Ochako isn't allowed to have flaws, and Toga isn't allowed to redeem herself in any way that doesn't involve killing herself.

Let's get to the characters though, the basic premise of the comparsion between Toga and Ochako is that Ochako perfectly fits into the mould of what society considers a "good, nice girl" she perfectly embodies the ingenue. Whereas Toga was horribly abused for most of her life until she snapped, because she was unable to simply pretend to be the normal girl that Ochako is naturally.

One thing I will give credit to MHA for, it does Toga being pushed to the margins and eventually falling off the edge of society as a young eventually homeless girl that no one cared enough to help about as effectively as Faith did. Toga and Faith were also both demonized before they did anything wrong, and were further demonized because they didn't act the way good victims were supposed to act.

The manga is almost masterful at portraying how much being forced into the box of the ingenue caused Toga's mental decline, until she eventually snapped and became the seductress instead.

Toga hasn't even done anything yet, she's already being punished and demonized simply for appearing deviant. Because once again the categories of Ingenue and Seductress aren't for viewing women and girls as fully realized people, you are either a perfect, innocent, girl, or you're a whore.

Toga is also hypersexual the same way Faith is. Of course it's not done with any of the same amount of nuance of BTVS because Hori has a habit of using Toga for fanservice, but Toga does have a habit of sexualizing herself, in a way that would be classified as deviant love. We also in the manga first view her as nothing more than a shallow yandere who creeps Uraraka out with her blushing and hot desire for blood, only to be shown she's actually capable of being an emotionally intelligent and caring individual when it comes to how she relates to her friends.

Toga viewing sucking blood as love is a clear metaphor for deviant sexuality, or even hyper sexuality, it's something that makes her a literal vamp. Toga being overly sexually aggressive and suggestive with the way she sucks blood is something the society she's in demonizes her for, Deku even makes a thoughtless comment that pushes her off the edge that he'd never even think of hurting someone he loved.

Faith is a CSA victim who is constantly trying to play off her trauma, so she's totally into sex guys, she loves sex, she loves it rough, she goes to clubs and grinds on guys, she's all into sex and violence and safety words are for chumps.

Toga was told her way of expressing love and attraction was wrong and deviant from a young age, and as a result of that the same way that Faith embraces hypersexuality, Toga embraces her femme fatalle / yandere persona and plays it up. Well everyone was right about her, she's fine with being a monster, so she just wants to live as a monster stabbing people randomly and taking their blood before moving onto the next victim.

They can't ever be the ingenue, so Faith and Toga embrace being the seductress instead. Yes, Hori does use Toga for fanservice, but at the same time you can't deny she's deliberately playing up her sexuality like a femme fatalle in a way that is not healthy (Faith is a hypersexual teenager too, I'm saying it's a trauma response for both of them).

MHA also shows much like with Faith how Toga despite being just a teenager is someone all of society has given up on - the same way that everyone gave up on Faith for being a homeless teenager. Then further demonized her for acting in ways homeless teenagers act, until she at last finally committed one crime and they turned on her.

Toga's first crime was committed after her mental breakdown, but it's revealed much later on that Toga wanted to ask Saito for permission to drink his blood, and if she'd just been granted it or at least the emotional abuse heaped on her had stopped she never would have had her breakdown.

For Toga it was Saito, for Faith it was killing by Mistake, after being abandoned they endured violence that further radicalized them with no help from the heroes.

Toga's character also textually acknowledges that the heroes are not going to help her, and are likely going to kill her, whereas in Buffy it stays subtext. Which isn't a problem, it trusts it's audience to go "Oh, the good guys are being jerks here" however, it's a direct facet of MHA's worldbuilding that Toga has watched the heroes kill her best friend, and now thinks she has to fight to the death because the heroes will kill her too. She can't back down and let herself be saved, because the heroes don't even see her as human.

Buffy can't forgive Faith for accidentally killing some random guy because all human life is sacred, but also she tries to kill Faith multiple times, because Faith's not human I guess. Uraraka and Deku believe themselves to be heroes but they actively support people like Hawks, who murdered Toga's best friend and have done absolutely nothing to show her that they won't kill her.

Toga reflects a lot of Faith's suffering for being a bad victim that society allowed to fall through the cracks, and a Seductress who needs to be punished for expressing her sexuality. In fact if it were just Toga, you could call it at least an effective deconstruction of the "seductress/whore" because Toga is a fully realized character and her entire backstory is about how society's expectations for her to be a perfect ingenue, and then punishing her when she wasn't a perfect ingenue is what led to her complete mental breakdown. She couldn't be the white swan or the black swan, so she became the blood-soaked swan instead.

Where the comparison starts to fall apart is Ochako. Toga is a character, and Ochako is not. Just like Deku Ochako more or less just kind of morphs into a plot device that exists to save the villain counterparts to prove what good heroes the kids are - and then she doesn't even do that part. Failing to save Toga is the final nail in the coffin for Ochako being a character and not a plot device to show how good and virtuous the heroes are.

BTVS goes to painstaking extents to establish how Buffy and Faith are the exact same girl in different circumstances. They are both victims of sexual abuse. They're both the Slayer. They both lose their mom at different points in the story. They both struggle with the fact that slayers are also killers, they're both the "chosen one". They both have issues that makes them conflate sexuality with violence.

Buffy is put through several situations that parallel Faith, she loses her mom, she becomes financially destitute, she starts exploring her sexuality in a very faith-like way. The two of them swap bodies at one point and nobody can tell the difference.

There's no strong parallel between Ochako and Toga to give the audience a reason why we should care about the relationship between the two girls in the first place. Ochako's connection to Toga tells us nothing about her character, because there's no strong parallel as shown to us by the story.

There are some parallels, the story attempts to tackle the emotional repression angle of how much the ingenue suffers because she's forced to repress her emotions and how much she envies Toga's free expression.

Why does Ochako think that way? Why does she focus on Toga in particular? The plot tells us why Buffy feels she has so much in common with Faith, they're both the chosen one but Buffy feels like she's under such intense pressure to be perfect that seeing Faith get to act out and express herself makes her jealous.

The manga tells us that Ochako is emotionally repressed, but it doesn't show us, because there are never any real consequences for Ochako repressing her feelings. Natalie Portman in Black Swan, and Buffy both experience mental spirals because the pressure to be the perfect woman is too much for them - to meet the impossible purity standards of the ingenue while still being a sexual creature.

In Uraraka this is the extremely simplified belief that she can't have feelings for a boy, while also being a hero because those beings are selfish and she should be focused on saving people. However, we never see her suffer because of these feelings. We don't even get the bare minimum of having her angst over unrequited love.

I don't want to give Ochako too little credit, there are several things that could have been a connection to Ochako, but they all turn out to be non-starters. Ochako is poor and often makes remarks like "The best way to save money is to not eat" in omake and she hangs out with mostly rich friends. She had early angst about the fact that her friends were becoming heroes for mostly altruistic reasons and she became a hero for money.

That could have also connected to the scene where Ochako witnessed the scene of a hero quitting amongst all of the destruction after the end of the first war arc, to show her the consequences of all the heroes who were heroes for less than altruistic reasons.

Ochako could have even told Toga something along the lines of "I was poor, I know how it is to struggle" especially since Toga spent a good portion of time homeless after she was throne out by her parents.

Instead that goes unaddressed except in this scene which makes it look like Toga is ignorant for assuming Ochako never suffered.

Toga and Ochako both feel like they need to repress their feelings but Toga was emotionall abused by her parents, then experienced psychiatric abuse, and then was disowned after her mental breakdown led to a violent incident. Uraraka feels like she can't tell the boy she loves how she feels. One of thsee things is not like the others.

There are more possible connections that you could draw between them, Uraraka gives a big speech about how the heroes have it rough too guys and at that point it cuts to a picture of Toga crying and that could have led to a revelation that if Ochako is asking the common people to see heroes as human beings, then they should try to see villains as human beings too.

This could also couple well with the fact that Toga believes Ochako wants to kill her the same way that Hawks killed Twice. Both of these facts, Ochako originally only being a hero for money and watching heroes for money quit, and also Ochako learning about Twice killing Toga's friends could lead to some self-reflection on the hero system and Ochako could listen to Toga and be the one to convince her that heroes will save her.

However, none of these happen so we don't know why Ochako feels compelled to save Toga, other than the fact that Ochako is just that nice.

It is really a repeat of Deku's writing, we are told that Himiko just really, really, really wants to save Toga, but not only are we never given an in character reason why that is, but we're also supposed to ignore all the evidence that contradicts this.

Ochako wants to reach out and touch the sadness inside of Toga, but she never actually does anything to try to understand or talk to Toga until the last possible minute. In fact, it's Toga who reaches out several times and Uraraka who ignores her. It is Ochako who insists several times that Toga's deeds are unforgivable and then the conversation stops there.

There's also the scene where Deku and Ochako are looking over the cliffside and Ochako is actively reminding herself of the damage that Ochako caused as a reason that she doesn't have to think of her as a human being.

Ochako doesn't even go in with a plan to take down Toga non-lethally like Shoto did with Toya, nor does she even think about what she wants to say to her until the last possible moment.

Ochako's actions make her more like Buffy, someone who actively doesn't empathize with the villain and doesn't want to save her because of her own personal hangups. (However, we're given no personal hangups for why Ochako, the most perfect hero ever wouldn't want to save Toga). Her actions are like Buffy's, not reaching out a hand to Toga she only gets worse and worse, but we're told the opposite. That she's someone who wants to reach and touch Toga's sadness.

It would be better if Ochako DIDN'T want to save Toga, because at least there would be an arc to it. The lack of empathy would be a character flaw on Ochako's part, something that she needs to overcome to be a proper hero. It would be better if Ochako DIDN'T want to save Toga, because then she'd need an in character reason why she doesn't empathize with Toga, like Buffy does with Faith.

Ochako is supposed to be deconstructing the ingenue, but she's not allowed to have any flaws, or be anything other than the perfect, empathic hero and because of that she ends up reinforcing the Ingenue instead. The ingenue isn't allowed to be anything other than perfect, and the Seductress must be punished.

Doesn't allow the Bad Girl to be redeemed:

Toga's death ends up reinforcing basically every backwards double standard about the MWC including the need for men to punish and villify women who freely express their sexuality. Toga's entire character arc is asking the question if soemone like her is allowed to live in this society, if the heroes will save the life of someone like her and the answer we receive is: no she can't live.

Toga can't live in this world, she has to die. Not only does Twice die and never receive justice and his murderer get off scott free, Toga who asks the question of if she's going to die too, the answer is yes.

In both of these plotlines you have young woman who have done bad things but are still teenagers, who are struggling with suicidal ideation who believe their only escape is death. Faith is told that the guilt of the things she's done is painful, but she has to live in order to make up for it because that's the only way to free herself. Whereas, Toga comes to the conclusion that there is no future for her other than being in jail for the rest of her life and therefore it's not worth living.

Toga has to be punished by the narrative in a way that's completely unnecessary, because characters like Bakugo and Edgeshot somehow survived doing open heart surgery in the middle of an active battlefield, but Toga dies from a blood transfusion.

One of these narratives is telling a troubled young abuse victim who's still a teenager to live, and the other is telling her to die. Now which one of these plotlines would you want a young girl to read?

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Merry Ex-Mas - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Navy Officer!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Cheating/Infidelity (Not Between Reader and Rooster); Friends to Lovers; Romantic/Sexual Tension; Implied Sexual Content/Suggestive Content; Light Angst; Use of “You,” No Y/N

Summary: After surprising your boyfriend doesn’t go as planned, you spend Christmas with Rooster.

Master List

It was Christmas Eve morning and the house that you shared with Fritz, Phoenix, and Rooster was growing emptier by the hour. Phoenix left the night before, after you all got off work, to head to her brother’s house to spend the holidays there. Fritz left at the ass crack of dawn to drive almost half the day to be home with his family for a few days.

And you were getting ready to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas.

He told you that he was spending Christmas with some friends and because you knew his AirBnB password, you could see where he was staying. And after not seeing each other for five months, you knew that you needed to put in an effort to see him for the holidays. The two of you had been having a lot of fights lately and you were hoping that a Christmas together would help patch things up a little.

“You’re leaving soon too?” you asked Rooster, pulling on your coat.

“Yeah, probably in like two hours,” Rooster stated quietly, sitting at the kitchen island as you packed some snacks for your drive. He struggled to hide his disapproval of your choice as he glanced out the window for a moment. “You’re all packed up?”

“Yeah, I’ll get gas on the way to the highway and then I’ll just drive straight there,” you replied, glancing up to see Rooster’s expression as he turned to face you again. Sighing, you turned away from him. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I just don’t want you to drive all that way and be disappointed, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, gathering your last few things.

Bradley and your boyfriend didn’t get along. Actually, none of your friends really got along with your boyfriend. Granted, you complained about him a lot, but unlike the rest of your friends, Bradley didn’t even make an effort to try and get along with your boyfriend. The two of them just avoided each other whenever your boyfriend visited.

Rooster walked you out to your car, carrying your bag for you. You took it from him and moved to put it in the trunk. When you came walking around the car, he opened your door for you. Giving him a quick hug and smile, you slipped into your car.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” you promised him.

“Safe travels,” he returned quietly.

“You too.”

Rooster stood on the front steps of the house as you backed up. Once you were gone from his view, he headed back inside. Even though he told everyone that he had plans with people ‘from back home,’ Rooster was planning on celebrating the holiday alone.

As he pretty much had since he was eighteen, if he had it off.

So, he was just going to bake some cookies like he used to with his mom, watch some movies, and catch up on sleep. He didn’t tell anyone because he assumed that they’d try to drag him along with them and Bradley didn’t want to interrupt their holidays with their families. He didn’t want the pity.

He was just going to have a quiet holiday by himself. And he was okay with that.

~~~~~

You finally spotted the house. But you were a bit confused to only see one car in the driveway since your boyfriend listed off a bunch of names of people that were coming.

Parking behind your boyfriend’s car, you carefully shut the door and walked towards the house. Testing the door, you found that it was unlocked and let yourself inside. The sound of music quickly hit your ears and made you pause. You glanced around the rather fancy AirBnB when you noticed a pair of heeled boots that clearly belonged to a woman.

Frowning, you walked deeper into the house, keeping your steps light. You turned the corner and noticed the bedroom door ajar. Slowly cracking it open, you stood, shocked, when you saw your boyfriend and some woman that you’d never seen before fucking on the bed.

You stepped back from the door, your heart racing as you processed the image. But once you got over the initial shock, you jumped into action.

You started in the kitchen and stole the wine that they brought. Heading back outside, you stowed the wine in your car before you walked over to your boyfriend’s car. You let air out of his tires, not enough to be too obvious, but enough to cause problems—you wanted to drag that punishment out a bit more.

You walked back into the house and returned to the kitchen. Filling a bowl with ice cold water, you carried it to the bedroom. Opening the door as the music hid your footsteps, you tossed the water onto them, causing them to scream out in shock. Scrambling around, your boyfriend’s face noticeably paled when he saw you standing there.

“Baby—” he started, causing you to chuck the plastic bowl at him.

“Surprise,” you called sarcastically. Turning to the woman he was with, you added, “Nice meeting you. Have a wonderful Christmas with him.”

You turned on your heel and stormed out as your ex-boyfriend got to his feet. He pulled on his sweatpants and ran out after you, leaving the other woman alone in the bedroom, but you were in no mood to listen to him.

“It’s not my fault,” he stated, earning a scoff from you in return.

“You just accidentally lied to me, brought another woman up here by mistake, and then your dick just magically fell into her vagina? Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid?” you growled, turning to face him.

“You’re always working. And I love you and I cared about our relationship, but I was lonely.”

“Why didn’t you just break up with me? Why didn’t you grow a pair of balls and tell me that you were feeling that way?”

“I didn’t want to be the dick who broke up with you right before Christmas.”

“Oh, so you decided to be the dick who cheated on me right before Christmas instead?” you countered, raising your voice more.

“How do I know that you didn’t do the same? You’re literally living with a guy who’d fuck you if you let him,” your ex-boyfriend snapped back before adding, “Actually, are you fucking him? That would explain a hell of a lot to me.”

“You know what, have a great fucking life,” you replied, turning and heading out of the house. “I’m fucking done.” Reaching for the door handle, you yanked it open and sent one last glare back at him. “Merry fucking Christmas, dickhead.”

Getting into your car, you quickly backed down the driveway. You didn’t let the tears fall until you were on the highway.

It was already pitch black when you returned home, but it wasn’t too late. You could probably just make yourself a quick dinner and then soak in a bath by yourself and decompress. Unlocking the door, you dragged your bag inside and kicked off your shoes, not bothering to be quiet because you assumed that you were alone.

Bradley, who was still home, heard the noise and assumed that someone broke in. Sliding off his bed, he reached for his baseball bat. He held it aloft as he slowly crept out of his bedroom and down the stairs to confront the intruders.

You were lost in your own world, looking through the fridge. The bottle of wine that you stole from your ex was already open on the counter and you contemplated drinking all of it tonight. Closing the door to the fridge, you turned and screamed bloody murder when you spotted Bradley standing there with a baseball bat.

“What the fuck!?” you both shouted at the same time.

You dropped the container that you grabbed and jumped back. Bradley, quickly realizing that it was you, dropped the bat and let out a breath of relief. You held a hand to your heart and leaned back against the cabinet behind you, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” you both asked at the same time.

“You were supposed to leave after me,” you stated quietly, causing Bradley to wince.

“Yeah, uh . . . plans changed.”

“Did you have plans in the first place?” you asked him softly.

“. . . No.”

You nodded slowly without any judgment. You simply pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned back against the cabinets. Bradley noted the redness to your eyes and the subtle sniffle and tear stains on your cheeks before slowly walking over to you. Sitting down beside you, he reached up and grabbed the plate on the countertop.

“Cookie for your thoughts?” he offered, causing you to laugh softly.

“You bake?” you asked, picking up a sugar cookie.

“Only around Christmas,” he replied, putting the plate back. He stared at you for a moment before asking, “You want to talk about it?”

“You were right,” you stated, taking a bite of the cookie. Looking down, you chewed slowly. “I found him in bed with another woman.”

“That son of a bitch.” Bradley turned to you with a softer expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t cheat on me,” you replied bitterly, taking another bite of your cookie.

“What did you do?”

“I let the air out of his tires and dumped water on him and her when they were in bed. And I stole their wine,” you added with a laugh. “It’s about the little things.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He said that I worked too much and he felt lonely, both of which are perfectly fine, but I would have rather just preferred that he break up with me. And then when I told him that, he accused me of cheating on him.”

“With who?”

“You,” you answered honestly, turning back to him.

“Me?” he replied quietly.

“Yeah. He said you hated him.”

“That’s accurate, especially now,” Rooster agreed, nodding slowly. “Still, I’m sorry that you had to put up with that bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah,” you responded softly, staring into Rooster’s big brown eyes. “I do.” The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you added, “Do you think you can get the fire started?”

~~~~~

Tossing memories of your ex into the fire that Bradley started in the fireplace for you, you smiled over at Rooster as he started to play a song on the piano. He turned to you with a matching smile, pressing his fingers down on the keys.

“Old photos roasting on an open fire,” Bradley sang jokingly, causing you to crack up. “Black smoke nipping at your nose.”

“Just a little bit,” you defended yourself. “And we have the fire extinguisher.”

“I was the one who brought it in,” Bradley reminded you, causing you to turn away with a smile. “And I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry,” you teased, tossing another photo onto the fire. “Please, continue.”

Bradley sang another verse as you finished up with your reminders. Simply standing in front of the fire, you reached for your wine and savored the moment.

“Although it’s been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas,” Rooster sang, locking eyes with you again, “to you.” He finished the chord before slowly removing his fingers from the keys. With a softer look in his eyes, he added, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bradley.”

The two of you continued to hold your shared stare as you slowly walked over to the piano. Bradley stared up at you as you stepped up beside him. He turned in his seat a bit, almost inviting you in. He didn’t make a move to reach for you, letting you dictate what happened, but he didn’t pull away when you slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He rested a hand on your cheek, matching your passion, and happily accepting you onto his lap.

~~~~~

There was a layer of frost on the sliding door on Christmas morning. The fire burned itself out the night before, but there was still a warmth that lingered in the room, even though the embers had lost their glow. While there were stockings hung up on the mantle, there was a collection of four socks—two pairs—on the rug. Accompanied by two pairs of pants, a sweater, a tank top, a bra, two pairs of underwear, and a partridge in a pear tree. On a tee shirt anyways.

Slowly coming out of your deep sleep, you cuddled further into Bradley’s chest. He was still asleep with his arm draped over your waist and his head resting on a pillow. He had thrown a thick blanket over the two of you the night before and you pulled it up and over your shoulders. You started to drift off to sleep again, but when you felt Bradley’s hand start to travel up and down your back in a soothing pattern, you picked your head up.

“Morning,” he greeted you, causing you to smile.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he returned, wrapping his arm just a little tighter around you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. You’re really warm,” you mused, resting your head on his chest again. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s Christmas.”

“Good point.” Sitting up, you offered Bradley a soft kiss in greeting. Pulling back, you held yourself up as Bradley’s smile grew. “So, what do you normally do, first thing on Christmas morning?”

“Unwrap presents of course.”

You pulled the blanket back over you as Bradley teased it down. Offering him a jokingly sharp look, you laid down against his chest.

“Make me breakfast first.”

“I can make us waffles,” Bradley offered, causing you to hum in agreement. “With strawberries.” You literally moaned as he added, “with whipped cream and maple syrup.”

“If you make me that, I’ll give you your present early,” you offered, pulling Bradley in for another kiss that he eagerly returned.

[crushribbons]

oh hey… it’s me again (maybe you know who i am… perhaps a certain request about best friend seb might ring a bell). since it’s october i was thinking i should request this fantasy of mine where us and seb go to a halloween party together (as friends, you know how it be) and they start getting drunk and sebastian starts to tease us a bit. one thing leads to another... w/ dirty talk. it might be good to add that seb is dressed as the devil and we dressed up as an angel *evil laughter* PLS AND TY

the way i sprunt to my laptop 🏃🏼‍♀️ YOU ALWAYS DO ME SO RIGHT BESTIE...

𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇

summary: All Hallow's Eve brings out the evil streak in Sebastian Sallow.

warnings: 1.6k words, SMUT (18+), brief mentions of penetrative sex, angel/devil costumes, kinda religious ment?, fem reader/oc

a/n: i have no defense for this xx laney

Slosh.

“Ugh.”

Amber liquid splashed out of her goblet and onto her chin, and she recoiled at the unexpected sting of the liquor. The Ravenclaw couple that had muscled past and jostled her hadn’t noticed a single thing, too consumed in finding a free boys’ dormitory, presumably to study for that Potions exam they had next week. Their giggling made Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Children,” he muttered into his own glass of butterbeer. He looked over at her and saw she was trying to wipe the firewhisky from her face with only her fingers and began fumbling around his jacket. Producing a cream handkerchief, he passed it to her, and she sullied it with abandon. Her face once more clean, she frowned at the handkerchief as she handed it back to him.

She asked, “Couldn’t find a red one?” and Sebastian chuckled. He was clad in a borrowed, bright crimson ensemble of Weasley’s, though it far surpassed the typical vibrancy of the Gryffindor colors. 

It had been difficult enough for her to talk him into trekking up to the Ravenclaw common room just before midnight, let alone to convince him to actually wear a costume. “Come now, it’s All Hallow’s Eve, you have to wear something fun!”

“Well, what are you wearing?” he had asked, sourly, trying to look disinterested in the conversation and the tome he was flipping through.

“I found this old, white, sort of…” She’d scrunched up her nose and tried to find the right word to describe the gown she’d found shoved into a chest in an empty classroom one day. “Princess-y sort of thing. And I think I can cast an illuminating charm on the silver bangle Grace is lending me, and make it hover above my head…any guesses?” “Heavenly,” Sebastian had hummed. Her stomach twisted. 

And when he’d met her in the Entrance Hall that night, skipping lightly down the stairs in his red suit, ridiculous pitchfork in hand and some conjured horns twisting out of the top of his head, it had done several somersaults in a row. Fuck, she had thought, he shouldn’t look that nice, he really shouldn’t.

As the party continued raging around them, tipsy teens struggling to hold their alcohol shouting loudly over one another and the silly music playing on the phonograph, she tried to keep the glances she snuck at Sebastian surreptitious. She’d drunk too much already, she knew she had, but her lips were itching to say something stupid, so she busied them with another sip of whisky. Sebastian’s nose and cheeks were a light pink that was no doubt brought on by the few drinks he’d already had, and the portion of his chest she could see atop his vest, covered in light curls of chestnut hair, was flushed as well. Gods damn him, why hadn’t he worn a shirt underneath the suit? 

“Very risqué of you, you know,” she said, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and brushed a finger over his exposed collarbone. An electric shock coursed through her finger when she made contact and she yanked her hand away. Behind them, Amit Thakkar plunged his head into the icy bowl of water that he’d thrown several apples into. She hoped vaguely someone would pull him out before the lightweight drowned.

“Couldn’t I say the same of you?” he replied, but his voice was an octave deeper than she was used to, and when she met his eyes, she swore she saw flames spark to life. “You’d think I’d be used to extreme temperatures, being who I am, but bloody hell…you’re fucking blistering.” Seb tapped his glass against the side of his head, indicating the small devil’s horns, and ran his tongue across his upper teeth in a way that suggested he had a matching set of fangs. It made her knees knock together, even though she was seated. 

Drunk, he’s just drunk, that’s all, we both are. Still, the word “blistering” stuck to her just as Sebastian’s eyes did while she fidgeted from the tightness of her cherubic garb. And friends can flirt as much as they want when they’re drunk, can’t they?

She searched for something witty to say, but all her ideas went out the window when Sebastian leaned forward in his armchair so their legs were touching and said, “Want to go bob for apples?” A thousand horrible and corny lines thundered through her head and she clamped her jaw tight so nothing like “I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth on” slipped out. 

“No, I just want another drink,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the din around them. “I’m starting to be able to think straight.” Sebastian grinned and nodded. He stood and she tried to avert her eyes from the inch of bare stomach she got to see when his vest rode up. Tried to. Sebastian grumbled something about having to wrestle the drinks away from the mad scientist brewing concoctions behind the massive end table that had been designated as the bar. 

She watched as he slunk away through the crowd and silkily slid up to the bar, swiping an untouched bottle of firewhisky while Garreth’s lab-coat-clad back was turned. He waved it in triumph across the room at her and a flare of courage allowed her to raise her index finger and crook it towards herself, mouthing “Come here, then.” Sebastian’s eyes went as large as the jack-o-lantern on the table next to her, and he practically tripped over a clump of Gryffindors on the ground playing spin the bottle as he fought his way back to her.

“Pour me a shot,” she instructed when he stood over her with the whisky. One more and I’m going to kiss this man, I really a–

Sebastian had other ideas.

He clamped the cork in his back teeth and ripped it out with a pop! “Open up, angel.” And before she could protest, the cold, glass neck of the bottle was slotted against her lips and he was tilting it forward, looking down at her with hazy eyes and a smirk. The whisky left a trail of flames down her throat that she didn’t notice, though her eyes watered. When she choked a little on the end of the shot, Sebastian pulled the bottle off, groaning as he did so, “Fuck me, I didn’t mean for that to be so…” 

Her breath caught in her chest. He turned away from her and took a swig from the bottle himself, and if he thought she didn’t notice the way he adjusted his trousers, swearing again under his breath, he was drunker than she was. Dropping back into the chair across from her, he tried to recover by shakily laughing.

“You’re going to lose your halo for that, little cherub.” “The devil made me do it, though,” she pouted back in a tease, but her fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her thigh in an attempt to distract herself from the arousal growing between her legs. As if matters couldn’t get worse, Sebastian huffed and set the bottle down before unbuttoning his vest. He mumbled that it was hot, really hot in here, but she didn’t hear a word of it, too invested in ogling him shamelessly, the same way he’d been eyeing her all evening. 

They both stared at each other for a good while, the noise from the party fading into nonexistence the longer they did so. Consequences suddenly seemed like something to be worried about at a later date. “What are they playing over there?” she asked, leaning around him to look at the Gryffindors Seb had almost trampled a minute ago.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Uh, spin the bottle, I think.”

“Oh!” She knew that already. Was very familiar with the game. “And what’s that?”

Ten minutes later, her dress lay, discarded, across some poor second year’s bunk, and Sebastian was mouthing his way from her neck down to her bare shoulder and her fingers were tangling in his hair while they lay on the cold ground. “Seb,” she gasped. Her hands met the horns on the crown of his head and she would have laughed, if his cock hadn’t pressed against her stomach, allowing her to feel how huge he was. As he pulled away, she saw that a pearl of pre-cum had been left behind, to decorate her as his.

“You’re so fucking sweet, perfect,” he muttered, grinding his hips down onto hers and making them both hiss and moan. “Almost a shame to corrupt this innocent little angel, but someone’s gotta do it, hm?” He reached over to the empty whisky bottle on the ground next to them and gave it a lazy spin. It wobbled for a few seconds then stopped, pointing aimlessly at a corner of the room. “Look at that. My turn again.” She squealed in delight as he once more attacked her mouth with a searing kiss that grew heavy and hot. They both tasted like whisky and sweets and it was making them even dizzier than they already were. “Seb,” she choked out once again. “Fuck me, please, just get inside me.” His hands were running up her legs, rough fingertips sending bolts of lightning through her body. Ever the tease.

“Christ,” Sebastian blasphemed with a grin. She let her head loll back while he kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, the hard bulge in his pants grinding onto her wet cunt. “I just want to ruin you. But I am having quite a bit of fun watching you squirm underneath me.” She whined. It had no effect on him. 

When his cock slipped into her, they both gasped. It hit a delicious, spongy spot inside her that made stars burst across her vision. He waited less than a second for her body to adjust to him before he was fucking her ruthlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead and off the end of his nose onto her. “You’re going to have to beg to be let back into heaven after this, my cherub. But, shit–” The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, filth permeating the air. “–you feel too fucking good for this to be a sin.”

masterlist

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Six

Summary - Weeks have passed since the discovery of your Carranam status with Eris, but even as time floats by, you're struggling to grapple with the emotions that are haunting your every step, and someone appears to solidify those thoughts as truth.

Warnings - angst, fluff, found family love, mentions of trauma, ptsd themes, Nesta getting caught out, flirting, soft pining

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Eris struggled to remember a time when he was truly happy, when his life didn't revolve around the cruel clutches of his father.

It was a blessing really, how you had tumbled into his life, and he thanked the Mother each day that you spoke for him that day in the Night Court, he commended your bravery for speaking against your blood, and he watched you in awe when you had made the decision to forge the right path for yourself.

Eris' life had never been one of happiness, of fulfilment and laughter, of dancing in the rain and living in the moment, but, you had made it be that way.

Two weeks had floated by, far too quickly for his liking, but he took it as a good sign. Part of him thought that you'd retreat back into your shell that you had worked so hard to break free of once he told you of Rhys' motives, and it was hard to deny your strength when the news had only spurred you on.

It wasn't odd to see your nose burrowed into a book, and whilst Nesta read her smutty little fictions, you had focused on books that would elevate your power and understanding, and it wasn't long until you had pulled Eris to the edge of the estate, to the place where the water kissed the rocks, and asked him to touch you again.

Carranam.

It was a term that Eris hadn't heard of, and it wasn't something you had told him about, even after your powers had merged into one and black flame weaved through your joint limbs.

A soft humming danced through the air, soft crackles of the open fire sounded from the hearth before him, it's gentle glow illuminating the seating room that you had touched with comfort. Willow strewn atop you, her head on your chest that you were using as a perch for your book, your legs flung over Eris' thighs.

Two weeks had flown by, and he had never seen you look so strong, Autumn had seeped into you, and if he didn't know who you were, which wasn't possible, he would truthfully believe that you were born in Autumn. After he had told you of Rhys' motive, of the truth that had been hidden from you, you had asked Eris to help you to train your abilities, and he done so without question.

Many moons had gone where he had returned home battered and bruised, questioning why he had told you that he could take whatever you could throw at him. Turns out you could throw a lot.

And hard.

Eris had never seen darkness like it, not from Rhys or even Azriel, your darkness was playful with you, curling and coiling over your skin, but when you thought of attacking, even for a split second, those inky tendrils that resembled the blood of demons became poised and lethal, dancing like snakes over your shoulders.

The darkness didn't harm you though, it wound itself around you like a kindred spirit, like it felt sorry for you.

What are you thinking about, Fawn?

Warmth formed a shield around both of you, a shield that no one dared to prod. When you sat with one another, reading or chatting about everything and nothing, anyone who entered the room knew well enough to leave you both alone.

Your gaze flickered to him, a smirk tugged at the right corner of your lip. From what he knew, which wasn’t much, Carranam meant that you could speak telepathically to one another, that your powers balanced one another in blissful harmony.

I’m thinking about which one of your oils to steal, my skin has been feeling rather dry.

The echo of your voice in his mind was low and sultry, and you looked through your lashes at him. Eris enjoyed the moments he could spend alone with you, even if you didn’t speak much, your presence was an anchor to his consciousness, a thing that held him down to reality.

An incredulous glance was spared your way.

You look rather radiant to me.

Blushing, you turned your attention back to the book in your hands, trying not to squirm as his eyes roamed over you. It was hard to not notice the longing stares and proud eyes, the curved upward lips and the way he dressed when he knew he’d be spending the afternoon with you.

Eris always tried to impress you at every turn.

An array of fruits lay on platters on the table to your side, he knew that you were a stress eater, he had watched you pluck grapes from their vines at the turn of every page to try and distract your mind from whatever raged within it.

Golden light glimmered about the room. It was only you two that evening, Lucien had taken Elain out for dinner to silence her incessant begging to see the court where he had grown up, and Nesta was burrowed in her room on the other side of the house, no doubt nose deep in one of her fantasy novels or thinking about Cassian and everything that had transpired.

The guilt had settled into your heart, the guilt of being the reason that Nesta had walked away from her mate, and from her own sister. For you.

Eris’ fingers drifted up your calves, as if he sensed where your mind had roamed to.

I’m fine.

It’s okay not to be.

Silence.

Huffing, you folded the page of the book so that you could resume it later and placed the large thing onto the table with a dull thud. Willow sighed in your lap, and you scratched the place between her eyes to coax her back to slumber.

I feel bad.

Eris shuffled, craning his body to look at you properly, his hand resting gingerly on your knee, waiting for you to continue. It was so difficult to concentrate when he touched you, from the ghosting lingering hands on your hips during training, to the tender touches to your shoulders when you were bustling about the kitchen.

You’re all risking so much for me. Nesta has lost her mate, her and Elain have lost Feyre, Lucien has lost yet another home. I struggle to believe that it’s all worth it.

You had cried the moment Eris had admitted that Rhys had threatened war against the Autumn Court, a place you had come to love dearly. The browning leaves and the golden sun, the scent of bonfires and cinnamon, and the gentle chirping of the foxes that scoured the woodlands were what gave you solace, even the ways his people looked at you with hope and awe made you feel like you belonged.

We are your court, y/n, Eris spoke to you sternly, his voice echoing through the blank canvas that shrouded your mind. There is nothing that we wouldn’t do for you.

You shouldn’t have to.

The ability to speak to one another through your minds was a different feeling compared to that of Rhys' daemati talents. You were glad that you hadn't been gifted the ability yourself. Rhys was able to infiltrate and control the minds of anyone he wished, he had the power to influence their thoughts and, in some case, shatter their minds entirely. What you and Eris, your Carranam, shared was unlike that darkness, what you shared was the brightest of lights and warmest of summers, speaking through your consciousness felt natural and welcomed, like returning home after a long day, what you shared felt relieving.

"A home isn't a place, y/n. It's a person. Home is wherever you make it with the people who build it with you," Eris' voice was as soft as autumn rain, rain that drizzled over the trees and gave them life whilst the sun poured through the branches.

You went to curl your knees to your chest but Eris wouldn't let you, he didn't want you to retreat into yourself, drowning in guilt. Eris lay his hands firmly on your knees to keep your legs draped over him, to have your smooth skin brushing against the cloth of his briefs, to let you know that your place with him was one of safety and respect.

"And if I decide that my home is here?" Your question trailed off, you fiddled with seams of your nightgown, a long plum coloured satin number that was modest but sinful in the same swing.

"I would be honoured," Eris' fingers reached for your face, grazing the curve beneath your ear and following it across your jaw all whilst his eyes admired the fire burning in your own.

If Eris knew of the effect he had on you, he didn't let on, how he made your heart race and thoughts cloud, you weren't sure how he'd react if he did. Would he turn you away? Would he sternly tell you that your place was not meant to be by his side? Would he choose you?

You weren't sure what to think of it, but you knew for certain that you were so screwed.

The day had long since disappeared and you didn't know how long you'd been sat there with Willow and Eris, in that bubble of serenity that you actively sought out since the first instance it had occurred. It had been a long day, your mind was reeling with pain and guilt, and you had needed to feel a moment of peace, a moment where you felt like you belonged somewhere in the world. That's when Eris had led you to the seating room, he had lit the fire and whistled to his hounds, all of which lay scattered around you on the free seats and on the rugs adorning the floor, and then there was Willow who always found her place beside you.

Eris couldn't even find the will to be annoyed about it before he had nestled in beside you, placed your legs on his lap, and told you that no matter what happened you would always have a place in Autumn, and, if you chose to leave, he would happily give you whatever it is you would need to build a life that you wanted, that you deserved.

It was his own tortured soul that craved to give you whatever you desired, he couldn't give himself the same luxury, but he could give it to you.

As if sensing his own self-doubt and the lingering emotion of feeling completely unworthy to breathe the same air as you or else taint it, Eris pulled back, and an unwelcomed shiver ran up your spine at the sudden movement, "It's late," the look on your face wounded him, the flash of dismissal that clasped around the ring of burnt orange and molten gold in your irises.

Shaking your head softly, you rose from the seat, Willow groaning at the movement of you sliding out from beneath her, "It is," you reached for the book on the table and held it close to your chest, taking a moment before retreating toward the staircase but not lingering there at all before pattering upward and disappearing from sight.

Gods.

Eris ran a hand over his face and threw his head backward, sighing. There was nothing that he wanted more than to know what your lips tasted like, how they would feel moulded to his, but he couldn't let himself find out. After everything you had been through, you deserved real love, you deserved to know what it felt like to be independent, and Eris didn't believe that a life with him would do you any amount of good. Eris believed that he was an evil male, many would agree with the thought, and he couldn't allow himself to give into that carnal desire to be with you.

In whatever capacity you could allow, Eris wanted to be in your life, and if that was simply as a friend, then he would choke down every emotion he could to ensure that friendship lived as long as you both did.

"She doesn't believe it, you know?" Eris' head snapped to the side to see Nesta lingering in the archway to the room, her silver eyes flittering about the space with intrigue as she inhaled deeply and smirked softly, to herself. When Eris didn't answer, waiting for her to explain, she continued, "If y/n thought that you were evil, truly evil, then she would have never aided you that day."

Of course Nesta Archeron had to be the voice of reason and truth, "She deserves better," Nesta cocked her head to the side and examined him, but more than that, she was noting the moulded scents that clung to the air.

A tingling harmonisation made the hairs on her arms stand on end, it was both of you, your scent of freshly blown out matches and adored parchment with a hint of jasmine, and his scent of pine and warm oranges, of subtle spices and apple pie straight from the oven.

Stupid. Blind. Fools.

Nesta took a step into the room, allowing your scents to wash over her, a strong prominent smell that threatened to overwhelm her senses, "After I was Made, y/n was one of the very few people who understood me, she saw straight through the mask I had dared to wear around her and picked it from my face piece by piece."

Settling into the armchair across the way from the High Lord, Nesta smiled fondly, lost in the memories of you, and continued, "I wasn't the best of sisters to Feyre and Elain, but as soon as I met y/n, I found myself working for a second chance to do things right. That's what y/n can do, she can make you feel like you can change, like there's still time to turn the tables and be the person you have always wanted to be," Eris listened intently, a soft smile on his lips, "I may have lost Cassian, my mate," she swallowed hard, "And my sister, and nephew, and friends if you could even call them that," Nesta looked to Eris, she looked deep into his soul and saw parts of you burning within it, "But I would lose it all again, in every life, if it meant that I had her. The person who made me believe in the goodness of the world, in the light that existed in me, and mended parts of me that I didn't even realise were broken."

It was an honest conversation, one that Eris didn't think would ever occur again.

"She wouldn't allow you to go to war for her," the atmosphere shifted, "She would sooner rather give herself back to a life in that prison than risk anything happening to you, and you wouldn't be able to stop her from doing it."

"Is it something she thinks about?"

Nesta craned her head to look over her shoulder, half-expecting you to be stood there, but when you weren't, having confined yourself to your room prior to Nesta's appearance, she sighed, "I know it is."

Time halted for a moment, and his breath became caught in his throat. So much work had gone into training your abilities, from both of you, if war was to rage on then no army would be able to stand against you.

That was the problem.

In doing that, in decimating armies and going to war against your own brother, the entire land would see you as what Rhys had made them fear. A monster. A putrid thing of the darkest pits of Hel.

"You never told her what you found," Nesta stiffened, "When you went Under The Mountain, you told her that Azriel didn't find anything. Not we, not I, just Azriel," Nesta leaned forward in her seat, her silver eyes blazing with flames of warning, "What are you hiding, Nesta? What did you find Under The Mountain? What did Amarantha do?"

"Rhys can never know, and she can only know when she is ready to."

And so Nesta told him what she had seen, what she had felt, and once she had finished, she sat back and said nothing as the colour drained from his face.

A morning alone was exactly what you needed.

The early morning light had woken you before the rest of the house, and the sleep you had gotten was deep enough to allow you to dream, dream soundly enough that you had woken feeling lighter than you had felt in weeks.

Birdsong drifted through the woods, your cloak drifted along in the gentle morning breeze, and the dry leaves beneath your feet crunched under yours and Willow's weight as she trotted beside you over the mound of earth. Axos snorted in the background as you nearly slipped over a damp twig that slipped under your foot, and you looked back to the stallion with a craned brow.

The courage to ride Axos on your own had sprouted from nowhere, the notion of it called to you as soon as you had glanced to the cream riding boots from Eris, and you had dressed in your riding gear quickly before entering the stables and asking one of the stableboys to ready the stallion for you.

Axos was more surprised to see you than you were to see him, and the beast had even lowered himself a few inches to make your ascent a little easier.

You weren't entirely sure where you were going, or where you wanted to end up that morning, but it had been hours and you were happy to find the place where your feet wished to carry you.

Unbound hair drifted over your face, and you blew the strands away as you continued to climb upward, up and up until you couldn't see Axos anymore, up and up until the ground and air began to turn cold and your breath was wisps of smoke before your face.

Expecting a spectacular view, your heart stopped beating in your chest when you saw it.

The large black wings and the coiling grin.

"Hello, sister," his voice drawled, he was dressed in his usual attire, a black suit of sorts, wearing a face you couldn't quite read.

Rhys was far enough away that he couldn't reach through the wards and grab you but close enough that you could feel his anger rippling along the barrier of the Autumn Court.

Looking about the space, you felt like a rabbit backed into a corner, waiting for the dogs to tear it apart. Willow bared her teeth at him, and he looked at her with such insignificance that it made your blood roar.

Turn around, y/n. Just walk away.

Those violet eyes roamed over you, flaring at the sight of your unbound hair, the cloak, the clothes covering your skin and the riding boots smudged with mud. How Autumn had poisoned you, "You look different."

"Why are you here?"

Rhys smirked, finding amusement in your reluctance to engage with him, "Just because we can't get in, doesn't mean we can't go above."

The earth rumbled as another body joined the fray, and you winced when you saw Azriel take his place at Rhys' side. Of course he had been tasked with soaring over the court, he was keeping an eye on you.

"I knew it would only be a matter of time until you ventured out on your own," Rhys stated. Azriel's eyes were wide as he took you in, his lips cast downward and eyebrows scrunched, contorted in pain as he saw the same sentiment lying in your eyes, "It's time to stop this nonsense, y/n. You've made your point, now it's time to come home."

In the distance, you heard Axos call out to you, Willow moved to stand in front of you, seemingly believing that she alone could protect you if the High Lord dared to make a single move to reach through those shields.

"I'm not coming back."

Rolling his neck to keep his temper in check, Rhys clenched and then relaxed his fists, exhaling through his mouth is a perfect o, "Do you know what is going to happen if you don't? You are property of the Night Court, people have been killed for less."

There was no choice but to throw up your mask, "The only one I belong to is myself, and you'd do well to remember that. Let's not forget who holds the true power here, brother."

Matching his façade of calm, you caught his lip twitch, "I will kill them all, Nesta, Lucien and Elain, even your precious Eris, and every male, female, or child who would dare to try and keep you from me, and I will make you watch as I do it, until you submit yourself."

Kill Nesta. Elain and Lucien. Eris.

You would not let your mask break, you would not let him see the panic that ravaged within you, "I will burn your court to ash if you even try it. I wouldn't bother testing me," you raised your hand against your side, allowing those black flames to spark at your fingertips and lick up the skin of your forearm. Azriel gasped softly, the flame reminding him all to well of his own afflictions, and he stepped back.

Wincing in your chest, your heart skipped a beat or two, you had never wanted Azriel to think that you'd hurt him, even if your bargain prevented such a thing from ever occurring. The horror in his eyes made you believe for a moment that you were the monster Rhys had spread the word of.

"Not even you could survive my wrath, Rhys. And now that I know of everything you have done to keep me chained, you're lucky that a shield stands between us."

Rhys smirked, it was sadistic and menacing, it was something that fuelled your nightmares, "Everything I have ever done was to protect you. The power you have is not natural, it is not from this world."

You inhaled deeply, a feline grin tugged at your lips and you kept quiet, waiting.

"Stop pretending that her power doesn't threaten everything that you are, Rhysand, which isn't much," you didn't need to glance over your shoulder to know that Eris was stood behind you, you could feel his face hovering to the side of your head, you could feel his fingers move to rest on your waist.

"I would say that it was nice to see you both, but that would be a lie. Don't come here again," you turned your back to them and caught a glance of Eris, of his stone cold face and deadly stare, deadly enough that you were sure that Rhys wouldn't be safe from it even if he was six feet under.

Making the decision to walk away, to descend the hill, shivers prickled down your spine at the words that flew through the air, "I won't warn you again, y/n. Come home, or I will make sure that you are left with nothing."

Eris placed a hand on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric atop your skin in attempt to soothe you, and he guided you onward, and you didn't once look back at the males you once called family.

Neither of you spoke a word on the descent, even Willow padded alongside you silently with her head hung low, her nose kissing the ground. As soon as the ground was flat and Axos was back in your view, you couldn't help but speed to the nearest tree and use it as leverage as you emptied the contents of your stomach.

Palms rubbed slow circles into your back, Eris' soft voice called to you and he moved your hair from your shoulders so that it didn't become covered in the liquid. After a few moments, you let out a panting breath and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

"I didn't realise how far we'd gone. I'm sorry."

Eris looked to you confused and hurt, hurt that you'd think he would ever scold you for exploring your home, "Are you alright?"

The nod you gave him wasn't at all convincing, that paired with your shaking form, he knew that Rhys had gotten under your skin. Without hesitation, Eris pulled you into his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair and held you as sobs broke through your lips, "I didn't want to believe it, I didn't want to believe that it was true," the sounds of your broken words hurt him.

Amongst all of the fire and sass, amongst all of the kind words and wonder, there was still a little girl inside of you that wanted nothing more than to be loved, to be valued and protected in the most pure sense possible.

An entire life of chains had dulled you, taken parts of you that weren't theirs to take, and Eris was finding it hard to restrain his anger, he was finding it hard to not set the High Lord alight and chuckle as he burned.

Whatever happened to Rhys from here on out was solely your decision, Eris wouldn't take that from you.

And in that moment, as he stood in the woodland of his court with you broken and crying in his arms, did he mull over Nesta's words in his mind and decide that loving you openly was better than depriving you both of the notion.

Love was a risk, but he would rather waltz into the unknown, whether that mean death or not, with you by his side than allow either of you to spend another moment believing that you were unworthy of happiness.

Authors Note

It's getting hot in hereeeee

Hope you love it! x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla

[l0standn0tf0und]

Remus John Lupin headcanons pt.2

pt.1

@hedonisticeiram I think I did my worst of the worst

TW: a lot of angst, mentions of smoking, food, grief, self-loathing, survivor’s guilt, loneliness, depression, self-destructive thoughts, trauma, and references to suicidal ideation.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who blushes furiously when complimented, always brushes it off with a joke.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can never turn down a chess game.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who skips meals in the Great Hall after full moons. He can’t stand the startle on first years' faces and the way they glance at his hands, limp, and scars but avoid his eyes.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who always smiles wildly, even though he tries not to, when the wooden door swings open and Prongs bursts into the dorm, filling the space around with laughter, Pete barely holding back a giggle as he struggles with a mouthful of pumpkin pasties, followed by Sirius, grinning ear to ear with a teetering plate piled high with food they brought for him, as they always did when Remus couldn’t bring himself to join them at the Great Hall.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets to eat for days. He tells himself he’s just too busy, but deep down, he thinks his body isn’t worth the effort. And even deeper down he hopes the door will open again, and the space will be filled with laughter.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my cigarette" Lupin, who always has a bar of chocolate with him.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my chocolate" Lupin,  who always has a pack of cigarettes with him.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who secretly loves bad romance novels—the ones with absurd plots and too-perfect endings.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves thunderstorms. The steady drumming of rain against the window is one of the few things that truly calms him.

Remus John Lupin who hates thunderstorms. The lightning dragging him back to the flashes of curses during battles.

Remus John Lupin, who skips his own birthdays, because it feels like celebrating another year of survival.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who saves every handwritten note and letter. Even the smallest ones, like James's quick scrawl, "We're waiting for you at dinner!".

Remus John Lupin, who skips Christmas Eve, because he sees no point in celebrating without the people who once filled his world with light.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who treasures every gift he’s ever received. A now-broken quill from Lily, a mixtape from Sirius, a poorly drawn doodle from Marlene.

Remus John Lupin, who locks himself in his room on any other holiday, lights a cigarette, and looks through old photos, tracing faces that feel both painfully close and unbearably far, until he cries himself to sleep.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has all memorable trinkets tucked away in a box he opens on bad days to remind himself he is loved.

Remus John Lupin, who has all old trinkets tucked away in a weathered box he opens on bad days to remind himself he was loved.

Remus "The prefect" Lupin.

And "Moony, our prefect" for first-years whose fear melting into familiarity as they grow used to the scars. 

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who counts every scar and bloody bite on his body.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who wears his friends’ clothes without asking. He throws on James’s jacket or  Black’s fancy-schmancy scarf like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because "if you don't want me to take your staff, stop throwing it all over our dorm"

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can’t look at the moon. Even when it’s not full, it's a constant reminder of what’s coming. It feels oppressive.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves autumn. The crisp air, the changing leaves, the excuse to wear his coziest sweaters, and hours of walking through the backyard, breathing in the smell of damp earth and fallen leaves.

Remus John Lupin, who'd better look at the moon and think what a horrifying beast he is, than has his mind free for thoughts about his friends that always find their way to come up and draw him to the depth of countless what-ifs

Remus "I don't need a wand, I just need my hands" Lupin. And it relates to everything, from broken stool, to someone's broken nose.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who prefers morning tea instead of coffee. Because it’s gentler on his frayed nerves, but the truth is that he loves the quiet ritual of brewing it. Sirius teases him for being an old man when he insists on the perfect steep time.

Remus John Lupin, who drinks coffee. Only coffee. Because he doesn't want to hear "you're such a grandpa", but in his head now.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who always ends up with ink stains on his hands, no matter how careful he is.

Remus John Lupin, who writes letters he never sends. Letters to James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius.

Especially to Sirius.

Remus John Lupin, who writes to Sirius in Azkaban.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he folds his letter. A faint, wistful smile softening scars on his face.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he carefully tucks the letter into an envelope. He writes to his old dearest friend.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he seals an envelope with dark red wax. He feels relieved after sharing his burden with the closest person.

Remus John Lupin, who knows Sirius will never see the letters, knows he’ll never get a response, because he'll never send them. But he writes anyway. He needs to take a break, at least for a few moments to pretend that nothing happened. That everything is fine. That he is fine. So he writes, pouring out everything he’s too afraid to say aloud. He writes, pouring out everything, fears, griefs, and confessions he has no one to say.

Remus John Lupin, whose fragile moment of peace ends with the weight of endless loneliness returning heavily to his shoulders as he watches the letter curl, blacken and turn to ashes in the fireplace flame.

Remus John Lupin, who still wears mismatched socks. He finds it funny. The tiny bit of chaos that still draws a faint, fleeting smile to his face.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who never leaves without a book in his bag. No matter where he’s headed, there’s always a novel tucked away, just in case he finds a quiet moment to read.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who presses wildflowers between the pages of his books.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself. For being bitten, for every time he’s let the wolf take control, for each scar that mars his skin, for not seeing the traitor, for the danger he didn’t stop. He should have known. Should have acted. Should have saved them.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself for surviving when others didn’t.

Remus John Lupin, who hates the sound of his own heartbeat.

Remus John Lupin, who wishes he had died with the rest of them.

 masterpost

[remcycl333]

some thoughts on imagination and fulfilling ALL your desires, no matter how small ♡

hiii! just wanted to share with you guys some things ive been thinking about lately and a new discovery!

so first of all! i went through a little phase this previous weekend where i could not imagine for the life of me. i just could not concentrate, and i kept hyperfixating on every little sound in my room and it was very frustrating. i also could not fall asleep because i usually use daydreams to lull myself to sleep and i couldn't daydream! it was very frustrating.

(side note--at one point i wished that my room would just be silent and then i lost power for a few hours and my room WAS dead silent for a while, lol)

but then i was scrolling thru loatwt, like i do, and i found this acct @/scriptercas and they made a couple of posts about the way they imagine (i like this one too) and i tried it that night and i was DEEP in my imagination for like an hour straight. like me??? adhd aphantasia me???

i know that a lot of you guys are like me and have aphantasia and therefore can't see mental images and you can get discouraged by imagining, but this is definitely my new holy grail and i think this will work so well for you guys too!

(p.s. if you guys are into shifting, that account has some great advice! i'd really recommend!!)

i also recently re-read edward art's series, which i have mentioned in recent posts. once again, i know ive also said this recently, but i highly highly highly recommend reading it (or listening, there's also an audio form) if you haven't already! even if you just read the first five parts. i swear if you are still struggling to fully grasp the law, after you read it you will get it. it's so good.

i bring this up because in a lot of the parts, edward talks about building the habit of fulfilling every single desire--no matter how small--that you have, as it comes to you. and i've just been ruminating on this so much lately.

i remember at the beginning of my loa journey, there would be things that i wanted and i'd kinda mourn the fact that i didnt have them... when i didn't have to. i could've just fulfilled myself. but instead i had the idea in my head that "i'll manifest my sp first, and THEN i can get my desire of receiving flowers." or, "i'll manifest money first, and THEN i can buy the expensive things i want" or "i'll manifest my new apartment, and THEN i can host dinner parties for my friends" etc.

but what i've been thinking about lately--prompted by edward--is that you dont have to want for anything anymore. i can give myself any and everything i want in my imagination. i don't have to wait to manifest something else first.

this has really bolstered my imagination game as well. everything you want to do with or experience once you have your desire, you can have/experience in your imagination right now. and it really adds to your imaginings. it really helps immerse you more and helps you capture the feeling of it being real.

for example, when i was manifesting my apartment, i had sooo many things i wanted to experience once i'd manifested it. i wanted to have my friends over for game night and cook them dinner and make them cocktails. i wanted to bake in my spacious kitchen and have fancy utensils and expensive ingredients. i wanted to shower in my fancy shower and use expensive bath products. i wanted my own vanity stocked with expensive makeup and perfumes. i wanted a large walk in closet with rows and rows of gorgeous clothing. i wanted to come back from a night out and leave my clothes strewn about the bathroom bc i was too drunk to put them away, and no one was gonna see them or yell at me for leaving them there. like some of the things i desired for were so mundane, yet i felt the absence of them in my life every day. for example: living close to a target, being able to make adventurous meals without worrying if my family members would like them, playing video games with my friends in my own living room.

everything i just listed were things i wanted so badly once i had my apartment, but whenever id run into the opposite in my every day life, i wouldn't fulfill myself at first. like i'd go to cook the same old dinner i cooked for my family every other night and i'd be like "ugh i wish i could be in my own apartment where i did the grocery shopping and i could buy fresh ingredients and make an elaborate meal instead of just having pasta and jarred sauce again." but then i realized that if i were in my dream apartment i would be able to do that. i spent so much time imagining waking up in my new apartment and what it would look like, but in the end, imagining stuff like this is what really helped me to fulfill myself and catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled.

i was really reminded of that whenever i re-read edward's series, and now im applying it to my new desires as well. it's so funny that no matter how much i manifest or how much i learn i always find myself forgetting little tidbits like that that really help me and are very valuable.

anyway i just wanted to make this post to help you guys a little maybe! i was just in the shower and i was remembering edward saying to fulfill every little desire you have--not matter how small-- and i was remembering the days i used to imagine myself in my current shower, and id close my eyes and imagine the scent of the shampoo i wanted to get and i'd feel where every individual bath product would be placed once i had my own shower. and all that inspired me to write this!

i hope that this helps you guys out and/or gives you imagination motivation! i feel like it's important to imagine all the small things that pertain to your desire that maybe you overlook while imagining, but that you know you deeply yearn for even if u think they're mundane or that you'll just get them once you get your big, overarching desire <3

[doumadono]

Hashiras & s/o having hard time orgasming - headcanons (part 2)

Warnings: male!reader, angst

Requested by: my one and only @greenwitchsalem

MASTERLIST

Tengen Uzui

Tengen, known for his flamboyant personality, would initially be taken aback by the situation. He prides himself on being a skilled lover, so the thought of his partner struggling in this way would deeply trouble him

However, Tengen would approach the issue with understanding and patience. He would make it his mission to create a safe and comfortable environment for his partner, where they can openly communicate and express their needs

Tengen would encourage his partner to share his feelings and experiences at his own pace, assuring him that he is there to support him unconditionally

Tengen's sex with his significant other would focus more on emotional connection rather than purely physical pleasure. He would prioritize intimacy and trust-building

"Darling, I want you to know that your pleasure is my priority. I'll be here, by your side, supporting you every step of the way. We'll create a new definition of intimacy together."

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi, often viewed as gruff and distant, would find it challenging to confront such a sensitive issue. He might initially react with frustration or helplessness, unsure of how to address the situation

However, as Sanemi grapples with his partner's struggle, he gradually realizes that his anger won't solve the problem at hand

Once he realizes the depth of his partner's trauma, Sanemi would put his abrasive nature aside and prioritize his emotional well-being. He would become fiercely protective and determined to help him overcome their struggles

Sanemi would approach physical intimacy cautiously, never pushing his partner beyond his comfort zone but certainly encouraging him to engage more in physical contact

"I can't change what happened to you, but I can damn well make sure you never feel that pain again. I'll protect you, even from your own fears. We'll take it slow, no rush. You're worth every ounce of patience and care."

Obanai Iguro

Obanai, with his reserved and mysterious demeanor, would struggle to express his emotions openly. The news of his partner's trauma would leave him deeply concerned and conflicted, unsure of how to proceed

However, Obanai's loyalty and devotion would compel him to educate himself on the subject matter. He would meticulously research and seek out resources to better understand the impact of trauma on sexual experiences

Obanai would approach the issue with a calm and collected demeanor, offering a steady presence and unwavering support to his partner. He would prioritize open communication and encourage his partner to express his feelings without judgment

Obanai would carefully observe his partner's behaviors and cues, striving to understand his needs without pressuring him to disclose his trauma

He would carefully explore what brings his partner comfort and pleasure, using his knowledge to create an experience tailored to his partner's needs

"You are not defined by your trauma. I see the strength in you, the resilience. Let me be your pillar of support."

Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu, known for his introverted and introspective nature, would internalize his partner's struggles as his own. He would blame himself for not being able to provide the comfort and pleasure he deserves

Initially, Giyuu might distance himself emotionally, feeling overwhelmed and unsure of how to approach the sensitive topic. However, his empathetic nature would eventually drive him to confront the issue head-on

Giyuu would prioritize communication, actively listening to his partner's needs and fears. He would offer unwavering support and reassurance, reminding him that his worth is not defined solely by his sexual experiences

Above all, Giyuu would patiently stand by their side, dedicated to supporting them every step of the way

Giyuu would be a steady and unwavering presence, assuring his partner that he is there for him every step of the way, providing reassurance and offering gentle guidance towards healing

When it comes to physical intimacy, Giyuu would proceed slowly, respecting his partner's boundaries at every step. He would prioritize consent and open communication, ensuring his partner feels empowered to express his needs and desires

"You're not broken, love. You're a survivor, and I admire your strength. We'll take it one step at a time, and I'll be with you every step of the way."

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiiii! i was hoping for a mm!raph x fem!reader and maybe she’s a hallway crush for him and he finally talks to her and then they’re literally in love LIKE HARD CORE

Hallway Crush (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Mind reader you are. I’ve been thinking about writing this one for some time, so thank you for asking😂❤️ I’ve cut it a little short today, as I’m still getting used to a normal everyday in a kindergarten, so it became more high school crushing instead of full on in love. Hope you enjoy❤️

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

Warnings: None❤️

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

Raphael stood with his head in his locker, acting like he was looking through his stuff for something specific. Well, he was in fact looking for something, but it was nothing in his locker. No it was down the hall, standing at their own locker, picking out the books for their next class.

This was not what Raph had imagined high school to be like. He had thought it would be like those movies he and his brothers used to see back in the lair. The stereotypical jock that had it easy, never scared about what people thought of him, every guy wanted to be like him, he picked on the nerd and had a pretty girlfriend. That was how Raph had thought his high school life would be like. But that was far from the reality he was served with.

Raph had made it onto the wrestling team, so that made him a jock, right? But nothing about school was easy. Raph struggled with reading and math, and he often found himself feeling a little subconscious whenever someone looked at him for too long. His turtle exterior might have been accepted by the people of New York City, but every long stair made him feel a little unsure. Raph was very dependent on Donnie and his nerd friends helping him out with homework, and at times he feared that people would rather get to know his brothers instead of him. And he did not have a girlfriend. But he did have a crush on probably the prettiest girl in the whole school. Great, right? No!

Raph had never even talked a single word to you, but stared at you from his locker, more than happy to be late for class if he could watch you for a little longer. There had been times where Raph had tried to talk himself up, wanting to start up a conversation with you, but instead he found that his hands were getting sweaty at the mere thought of talking to you. His heart rising and his body shaking whenever you were close by in the cantine, or those few times he had found himself at the same water fountain as you. He almost forgot to breathe whenever you looked in his direction, averting his gaze, never knowing if you ever actually looked at him. And the brutal truth was that Raph wasn’t even sure if you knew his name, but he surely knew yours, often finding it repeating itself in his head.

Despite that, Raphael did exactly as he had done every single day, after he saw you for the first time. He stayed at his locker, watching you as you looked through your stuff, getting ready for your next class.

Raph was relieved that his brother’s weren’t around. They had obviously seen the way their brother has started to act whenever you were in his line of sight. Mikey and Donnie had a blast, realizing that it wasn’t Leo that had gotten a crush on a human, but Raph as well, giving the two youngest something good to tease both of their oldest brothers with.

Raph felt his shoulders slump, remembering Leo’s crush on April. He felt like slamming his head against the side of his locker. Here he was, fearing something as small as your eyes turning his way, and his duns of a big brother was talking to his own crush everyday, even if he was rambling and fumbling over his words. This could not be. There was no way that Leo was better at this than Raph was. It could not be. And with those thoughts in mind, Raph once again tried to talk himself up.

“You can do this, dude”, he whispered to himself, daring another look in your direction. “You fought Superfly. You saved New York City. If you can’t talk to a girl, who can? Even Leo can do it, and he is a duns”.

Raph shut his locker with a sigh, before doing something he had never thought he would do. He walked in your direction, determined finally to have a conversation with you. You however, didn’t seem to notice Raph until he was a few feet from you. You shut him a small friendly smile, causing his heart to flutter and his body to shake with nervousness.

“H- hey”, Raph stammered, cringing at the way his voice cracked. He expected you to huff annoyed at him before leaving, but instead your small friendly smile deepened to a genuine smile.

“Well, hi to you too”, you smiled, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw his flustered expression. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uhm… uh… yeah! I- I know you, (Y/N), but you don’t know me - sorry, no - I- I’ve seen you around, a- and I- I thought you were r- really”. Raph stalled at the way your eyes watched him with genuine curiosity and kindness, patiently waiting got him to finish. “W- will you go out with me?”

Raph had feared you would laugh, but not like you did now. It was light hearted and calm, and not in the least bit taunting. No, it was friendly and happy, somehow calming Raph’s frayed nerves down.

“I would love to do that, Raphael”, you smiled, trying to hide a small blush on your face.

Raph stared at you, his mouth agasp and eyes wide. “Y- you know m- my name?”

“Of course I do”, you smiled with a small giggle, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. It was when Raph realized that you were nervous too. “Everybody does. You and your brothers saved the city, and well”. Biting your lip, you reached out and tucked on the sleeve on his flannel, making his heart skip a beat. “You’re hard not to notice. I’m not just talking about the whole turtle thing”.

“Oh?”, Raph asked, somewhat shocked. “You really think so?”

“Yeah”, you nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Okay”, Raph said with a fond smile, feeling his nervousness fade away, giving way to a sudden urge of confidence, leaning against the locker. “Then what do you say to a pizza date this Friday?”

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven not Forgotten | Prompt

Steve Harrington was eleven years old when he learned what Homophobia was. It wasn’t through other people making jokes, it wasn’t his parents, who actually found Steve’s little crushes cute as all hell, his mother joking around about how he’d make the perfect little housewife someday as she had him helping with dinner, Steve wearing his own adorable little ‘head chef’ apron as he struggled with the garlic press, her comments made much to his father’s exasperated amusement.

Nobody ever made him feel bad about it. The crushes. Nobody ever put him down or made him feel like it was wrong. Kids didn’t care until close minded grown ups made it a thing. Kids minds were wide open ready to be shaped. It wasn’t a bad thing...

Until Eddie.

Eddie was one of the bigger kids on the playground. Quiet and mysterious, he came to Hawkins halfway through the year from places unknown, his hair buzzed close to his scalp, now growing back thick, brown, and soft enough for Steve to crave touching it. He’d never seen Eddie up close, they didn’t share any classes but… from a distance he was clearly very pretty. With big dark eyes, soft cheeks, and a cute nose, he was perfect.

Steve was sure he’d caught sight of dimples once. DIMPLES.

Lynda Harrington was about five minutes away from being done with dimples, Steve talked about them that much.

Eddie didn’t talk much, he had no friends to speak of, kept to himself in the playground, either reading an impossibly thick book with a pretty picture on the front that Steve couldn’t quite make out, sat under the jungle gym, or laid under the jungle gym scribbling things into a black notebook covered in stickers and scribbled paint marker marks.

He carried a big guitar case sometimes, and Steve occasionally caught him coming from the music rooms, but he’d never heard him play. He wanted too, but hadn’t quite worked out how to make that happen without being forced to talk to him.

And that. That was just far too scary.

He was an older kid from seventh grade, and from what little he’d heard him speak, he had a nice southern twang to his accent that made Steve’s hands all clammy and his chest feel so full of butterflies that he feared he’d float away.

Too scary basically. But he could watch from afar! Afar was safe. Afar was—

“Hey trailer park FREAK!” Oh boy. The biggest kids. Eighth graders. Eddie was just going to the jungle gym, notebook in hand to get a little light doodling in, when they descended upon him. The sporty kids that dominated in dodgeball, the mean ones that picked on the nerds, the popular ones his parents had told him to steer clear of.

“They’re bad influences” his father would say. “Just focus on your classes and keep your distance from those troublemakers.” Steve was happy to do just that. He had a couple of friends but… he kept to his studies and steered clear.

Eddie was quiet, he had no friends, he hung out in the same place every day doing the same thing, he was an easy target. Steve looked for the teachers, any teachers, any grown-ups, but they were all busy elsewhere, Eddie didn’t have any friends to stand up for him, anyone to back him up as the big kids descended, shoving him against the jungle gym’s climbing net, he barely even complained, just told them to leave him alone, which obviously they weren’t going to do, leaving Steve with a choice to make.

He could stay there, where he was, and keep watch from a far as his crushes notebook was stolen, the panic kicking up a notch from Eddie as he rushed forward to try and get it back, demanding “Not my notebook!! Give it back! Please give it back!” To no avail, the two flanking the main bully just shoving him back against the netting while the main bully roughly ransacked through the pages, uncaring as to the damage he was doing despite Eddie’s continued cries for him to stop, he looked again, any adult, any adult would do.

How had no adult noticed yet?!

Steve found himself crossing the distance before he could even think about it, just in time to watch Eddie be thumped in the gut by the biggest of the three, “trailer trash nerd” spat down at him, his torn notebook thrown to the floor, papers torn free from the seam falling out across the woodchip floor, Steve was too late to stop the worse of it but— he could do something.

“Hey!” All three eyes were on him, Eddies not included, he was too busy clutching his gut and trying to reach for his book at the same time “U-uh… uhm” Steve turned his head and holy shit hallelujah “teachers coming! Better scram before she catches you!” She wasn’t even coming, she was just there, close enough that it made a difference.

The boys got out of there, each one pushing the other to move faster to get out of dodge before the teacher came. At least Steve hadn’t had to stand up to them, just… make them leave. They were probably about to go anyway, given they’d already done enough damage to put their point across.

Eddie was right there, nursing his wounds, trying to gather his papers up, so close, Steve could feel his palms clam up, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute. He pushed through, bending down to pick up a scrunched up ball of paper, he gently began unfolding it. It was nerve wracking, every second he spent in Eddies presence, the boy watching him hesitantly, big dark eyes rimmed red with unshed tears, brown. His eyes were brown. Steve gulped down his own saliva.

“You should uh… you should ignore those guys.” WORDS! He managed words. Okay. He could do this.

“Yeah? What’s it to you?” Eddie was upset, he probably didn’t mean the bite to his tone, it was okay, it’d be okay.

“I just… I mean, it’s not bad, y’know. To be like… nerdy and stuff, you shouldn’t listen to them. They’re just jealous cause you’re… y’know, creative and uhm… an smart, an really talented at drawing and—and people really like that.” He offered the creased paper back as Eddie rose to his feet, wrecked notebook tightly clutched in his arms, he took it back, not quite snatched but… it wasn’t taken gently.

“Yeah, what people? So far things ain’t exactly been makin me feel welcome here.” He shoved the paper full of… god Steve didn’t even know, but Steve knew they were doodles of some kind, winged things, and skeleton monsters, they were cool! Eddie could draw! Steve couldn’t draw, he could barely make stickmen work, the legs were always mismatched lengths, and the arms were never coming from the same point of the stickman’s stick body.

“I mean…” Steve fumbled with his own fingers, warmth decorating his cheeks, pinking the tips of his ears this was it! He could do it, he could tell him, and it’d be fine, and maybe they could hold hands or something, that’d be neat “people… people like me… I—I like you, I mean… I like you a lot and—and I just… I was just wondering if—if maybe—”

“Ew” Steve stopped dead, eyes snapping to the other boy, the other boy who looked at him with an icy disgust that wrapped its frozen claws around Steve’s heart and clenched “that’s gross. Boys can’t like other boys, that’s so fuckin weird!” Weird? It was weird? Steve looked around him, panic filling his very being, from his head to his toes every inch of him felt wrong all of a sudden, his heart beating faster and faster only this time it wasn’t good “and they call me a freak, freak.”

His small fist connected with Eddie’s face without thought, right in the nose. Instinct to fight rearing its head for the first time in his life, panic replaced so swiftly by an anger so unlike him he was consumed by it, and the resulting pained cries filled him with a sick sense of satisfaction that he enjoyed far more than the panic, than the sense of wrong in himself at Eddie’s words.

He didn’t say anything else to Eddie, he just, left him there by the jungle gym, crying in pain holding a bleeding nose. His book dropped to the floor, ruined papers strewn across the woodchip.

And his dimples?

Never to be thought of again.

—Until the boathouse in '86 when everything went to shit for the fourth time in a row.

Part 2

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! POP IDOL [EVE /JISOO HAN] x MANAGER! READER x YANDERE! ROCKSTAR [FEROZE KHAN]

unedited

REHEARSAL

second part to REPLACED + this set of headcannons

Feroze belongs to @moyazaika and manager reader! This is only a fan-creation.

[ NEXT PART : RECREATIONAL ]

“Mr. Khan, this is so unfair!”

“What is ? “

“You get even more handsome each and everyday. I’ll need sunglasses at this point !”

“You flatter me too much.”

Feroze ran his hand through Eve’s silken black hair. No doubt enjoying the soft feeling around his fingers.

You were glad that Feroze and Eve got along. As happy as you could ever be even! Finally, your moody employer got along with someone else other than you. But nothing could shake this sinking feeling of dread in your stomach.

“Haha . . . “ Eve’s ears turned pink. You knew of his previous obsession with Feroze’s music before. That’s how you were first introduced to the rockstar. No doubt the idol was also enjoying the small act of affection.

“You two are getting along well.” You coughed, feeling a bit too much like a third wheel to all this.

“Mx. [Y/N]! Hey hey~!” Eve waved, basically flailing his hands with the amount of excitement in his movements, while Feroze only nodded after facing your direction.

You bowed to Eve, a habit you had a hard time turning off when you switched clients, in acknowledgment before turning to your rockstar, “You have another interview this evening. One last time before we go.”

And the rehearsal began. Eve had apparently learned to rap from one of his members previously and had incorporated that into the music. You knew this of course, as you’d often check in on his career once in a while and listen to some of his songs when Feroze wasn’t around. But it was still quite baffling to see how quickly he picked up the skill. It was a far cry from how he struggled before as a trainee and rookie idol.

Feroze preferred not having a choreography and Eve otherwise, so there were separate solo sections in the mix as well.

As always, your current client amazed you with his voice and skill on the guitar. After Eve’s number, he quickly captured your attention and kept it there for the rest of the performance.

Soon, the last note is played, and the two singers panting are all that’s left to hear.

Feroze looked over to the black haired man. The arena was a cold place but after moving around the stage a lot, Eve had started showering in his own perspiration. “You’re sweating all over, Jisoo.”

You were mishearing things. You had to. There was no way they were in first name basis already. No way. Eve was so unbothered with the way he was called that you almost thought you were imagining things.

“Ah . . . let me just . . .” Eve started removing his coat, about to walk off in search of a towel before Feroze held him by the shoulder, leaned forward,

and licked him.

You and Eve don’t even have time to react as Feroze had already pulled you to the exit. “Let’s go, meri jaan.”

“Did you just do what I thought you just did—“

“What?” Feroze had this stupid smirk on his face, seeing you all worked up over his actions.

“Don’t try this with me! What if someone saw you two ? !”

“They’ve seen me done worse.”

“I’m not talking about your reputation, Khan. Jisoo’s is as fragile as glass. He hasn’t done even half of the shit you have. He’ll be ruined!”

“What’s this? Calling him by his first name now? And where’s my rosy?”

“You called him Jisoo, too. And remember, no rosy when you misbehave.”

“Fine. I won’t do it again. In public at least.”

“Khan!”

“Okay, okay. I didn’t know you get like this when you’re jealous. It’s kinda cute.”

“Unbelievable!”

Feroze laughed as you stormed off. He really does love you so much.

Once you were out of view, he checked his phone to find a couple of messages from his partner in crime.

i believe i deserve a little thanks for my services?

i’m such a great wingman, aren’t i?

don’t get too cocky.

but

thanks.

hehe. anything for you mr. khan.

i told you to call me feroze, didn’t i?

anyways

tomorrow. us three. drinks.

last one to pass out gets to have [y/n] for the night?

you’re on.

“You know that Feroze’s a lightweight.”

“Mhm.”

“Yet you purposely agreed to have a drinking competition.”

“Right you are.”

“When your entire personality is based on getting drunk.”

“It’s a perfect set up isn’t it? And I don’t get drunk that often!”

“Right, just every single night you go out with the boys.” You crossed your arms. Flashbacks to cleaning off all the puke from not only Eve but the rest of your old clients entered your mind. “You know I have to leave and take care of him after this right?”

Eve’s already eerie smile got even wider, “Well, at least I got you all to myself now. Right at this moment.”

You shook your head, exasperated. “I never got you.”

“Hm?”

“You said you could never live without me. And for a while I thought you did. Leaving you was so difficult. I was ready to lose you.”

“But here you are, alive and well.” Unaware you indirectly told him that he’s supposed to be dead, you jolted when he suddenly started cackling. Thank god for private rooms.

“Baby, if you want me dead there are more direct ways of saying so.”

“No, of course not!”

“I know you don’t. You care about me so much.”

You found yourself suddenly trapped between his arms. His face right next to yours as he breathed in your scent.

“Because you’re the best manager the world could ever ask for.”

He placed a kiss on your shoulder, then your neck, your chin, and finally your lips. His was smooth, years of scolding him to use chapsticks more often actually worked. But you soon forget the texture as his tongue entered your mouth.

His hands explored and caressed your body, keeping you close to him while he enjoyed your taste.

Out of guilt from making out while Feroze lied there unconscious, you pulled away.

Eve doesn’t hide the disappointment on his face, but he also doesn’t try kissing you again. “What happens, happens. I’ll just work thrice as hard to earn you back.”

You didn’t realize his body was pressing up against you until it was gone and he had grabbed his coat, ready to leave.

“Or I could share. Wouldn’t mind doing that with Mr. Khan.”

“You—“

“See ya soon, world’s bestest Manager!”

It was almost scary seeing Jisoo in such a broken state. He had failed two evaluations in a row. One more time and he’ll be cut off from his dreams. This usually wasn’t the case for most trainees, but as he’s grown older and therefore less marketable, the higher-ups had double down on their rigid rules. Even employing a manager like you to keep him in line.

You were a massive slap to the face. But he had no one else to lean unto. His other relationships were all shallow and based on some flimsy, flowery words he’d spout at everyone. So, he found himself here, right beside you. Tears still wet on his beautiful face.

“Hey . . . c’mere.” You pulled him beside you. The boy didn’t like being touched, but he was too tired and jaded to resist. “Show them that you want this. Show them that you’ll do everything you can to reach your goals.”

You caressed his back. Even if your words weren’t much of comfort you could at least try physically calming him down. “If they keep kicking you down even after you work twice as hard then work thrice as harder. If your skill isn’t enough for them then show them your determination.”

“You can and will do this, alright Soo? I believe in you.”

And that was the final nail into the coffin. You felt him melt under your touch. His breathing finally started to steady.

“I will. I promise.” He raised his arms to embrace you. “I’ll make you proud, Mx. Manager.”

Eve’s fingers trailed over the tattoo on his face. It was cold out. Snow had covered the streets and a part of his newly dyed dark blue hair. But the alcohol, the clothes he wore and most of all the thoughts of you kept him warm.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun / moyazaika - genie | 2023