#even taking the crush out of the equation i like and admire and respect him so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salemorbit · 4 years ago

Text

By Suprise

[MHA x genderneutral!Reader]

Headcanons for Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki

~~~~~~~

first kissesssssss how they would do it bc i'm soft like that hehehe

~~~~~~~

❄️Todoroki 🔥

whoooooo boy this man

when i say This Man

Yes, he's mostly emotionally oblivious but alas...

You had had a crush on Todoroki since the first day of class 1-A

When you walked in and chose your seat, everything was going smoothly

Until He Walked In

And Oh My God

You could've sworn it raised ten degrees in the classroom and it wasn't just todoroki's quirk as you felt your face heat up at the sight of the pretty boy

And then he sat next to you and your entire world froze

From then on, you were always so nervous around Todoroki and flustered whenever he would ask you a question about an assignment or if he could borrow a pencil

You greatly admired his quirk and his control over either side of his body, jealous of the fact that he had such an amazing quirk that caught the eye of tons of hero agencies

Little did you know, Todoroki also had feelings for you as well *eyebrow wiggle*

He thought your personality was amazing, and your skills in battle were astounding when both improvisational and strategic

Poor guy totally fell for you in a matter of days

It wasn't until near your graduation from UA that Todoroki grew a pair and decided to shoot his shot before your hero agency whisked you away from him for good

With proper support from Midoriya and Bakugou Todoroki invited you to a celebratory dinner for your graduation and planned to seal the deal then

Todoroki nervously fiddled with his hands under the table, staring down the candle in the middle of it intensely. It was two minutes until your scheduled meeting time, but Todoroki had arrived ten minutes early to get over his nerves.

A minute later, you walked in with all smiles, and your eyes twinkling under the ambient light, and your hair done exactly the way he liked it, and--

He wasn't over his nerves.

Todoroki awkwardly stood up as you came toward him, returning your smile gently.

"Hey, Shotou!" You said, sitting down across from him. "Long time, no see," you joked. Todoroki smiled at your lax nature and sat down again, gripping his napkin tightly.

"You look wonderful, [Y/N]," he commented, trying not to let the nerves shine through. You felt yourself blush at the compliment, waving it away bashfully.

"Oh, stop that," you grinned. "You look dashing as always, Sho."

Todoroki's cheeks flared as the waiter came over to take your orders. Miraculously, Todoroki didn't stutter or make a fool out of himself the whole night. The two of you just chatted about the upcoming graduation plans and futures with your respective hero agencies. His heart raced at the fear of possibly backing out of his plan last minute, but Todoroki scolded himself for his anxiety. He was going to do this, whether his legs were shaking or not.

At the end of the dinner, Todoroki walked you back to your third-year dorms. Your conversation never slacked, flowing normally between you two with the foundation of your friendship for the last three years.

You walked close to Todoroki, hand brushing against his every now and again, and you would be lying if you said it wasn't on purpose. As you arrived in front of your dorm door, you both fell quiet. It was the first time in the night that it was awkward, neither of you willing to look the other in the face. You cleared your throat and glanced up at Todoroki, noticing his red-tipped ears. A smile flitted across your face.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, rocking back and forth on your feet. "It was really fun! We should do it again sometime, you know, to catch up with our hero agencies and all."

"Yes, that would be nice," Todoroki nodded stiffly. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as silence blossomed between you again.

"Well, good night," you said, turning to unlock your door. Right as you opened it to step inside, Todoroki stopped you.

"Wait," he said, quickly grabbing your wrist with one hand and tugging on it. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around with his pull.

And suddenly you were right in front of him, looking into his bi-colored eyes that were mere inches from your own. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized the proximity, one of your hands instinctively going to his shoulder to steady yourself while his own hand held your wrist gently.

"I-" You started out, but Todoroki nervously interrupted you.

"If you're uncomfortable-" He rushed out, but you shook your head, smiling slightly.

"No, this is good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you breathed out, swallowing thickly. There were a few seconds of quiet before Todoroki's eyes flicked down to your mouth then back to your eyes.

Then his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant, giving you the option to pull away if you'd like. Luckily for Todoroki, you returned the favor, deepening the caresses and moving to interlace your fingers with his.

The moment was tender and vulnerable, spilling out three years worth of pining and stolen glances when the other wasn't looking. You smiled into the kiss, pulling away to catch a breath.

Todoroki looked flushed, an excited gleam in his eyes that bore into yours. You knew how he felt without him having to utter a word, and vice versa.

Stepping backward toward your door, you smiled more fully at him, apparently not able to wipe the look off your face. Todoroki had a dazed look in his eyes as you leaned against the doorway.

"Good night, Sho," you said, squeezing his hand before letting go. He nodded, a stupid grin on his beautiful face.

"Good night, [Y/N]."

••••

💥Bakugou💥

If you think you're making the first move with Bakugou, you are sorely mistaken

With his incredibly spicy attitude, it was no mystery why you would always get so frustrated with Bakugou so quickly

This is kind of like an enemies to lovers situation, ya dig?

Walking into UA, you had known Bakugou sparingly throughout elementary and middle school

There were a few words exchanged here and there, but nothing lengthy until you found out you would be in the same hero course with him at UA

During the first year, you got to know him a little better

You got to see how he fought, how he learned, how he pissed you off

And he also got to see all those same qualities from you :)

But underneath all of that surface level rage and red-haze lay thick layers of admiration and romantic feelings you both had toward each other

tho you totally wouldn't outright admit it

It wasn't until halfway through your second year at UA that things really started to heat up between the two of you (no pun intended)

It all started with a group assignment that paired you with Tsuyu, Kaminari, and Bakugou

Let's just say...things escalated pretty quickly

"You're an absolute ass, and you know it, Bakugou!" Your voice rang through the common area, despite it being relatively late in the evening and most of your classmates were in their rooms relaxing.

Or at least trying to relax, but becoming unsuccessful when your and Bakugou's voices reached decibels such as these. Even Jirou couldn't stand the noise.

"Maybe if you listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't have to recalculate all of your stupid equations!" Bakugou snarled back, throwing his papers onto a table. They spread out and fluttered to the floor, creating another mess you would have to clean up later.

Poor Tsuyu and Kaminari watched the back and forth for several minutes, not daring to intervene between your quarrel. With Bakugou's explosions dotting the air around his clenched fists and your quirk making your aura radiate intense energy? No, thanks.

"That's rich, coming from you," you scoffed, crossing your arms. Bakugou huffed and took a threatening step closer to you.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His voice got dangerously low, but you were determined not to let your facade crumble. You lifted your chin higher indignantly.

"Uh, guys?" Kaminari gulped. "Maybe we should take a break-"

"Piss off, Sparky!" You and Bakugou yelled at the same time. Kaminari withered in his seat, exchanging a worried look with Tsuyu. The frog-girl just shrugged, trying to finish her own work in the meantime.

"You're so unbelievably dense, Bakugou," you let your head fall into your hands. The fiery blond grit his teeth and clenched his fists.

"Says you."

"You know what? I've had enough of your insults-"

"You've had enough of my insults? Eat shit and die."

"Take your own advice!" You yelled, throwing the last of your papers at Bakugou and finally storming out of the room. Bakugou let out a frustrated roar and fell back into his seat, shoving his hands into his pockets.

For the first time that evening, the common room was quiet. Bakugou was silently seething in his seat, not touching any of the papers that flew to the floor. It went like this for about five minutes until Tsuyu spoke up.

"Bakugou," she cleared her throat, "maybe you should go apologize to [Y/N]. What you said was kind of uncalled for."

"Yeah," Kaminari hesitantly agreed, testing the waters. "You were kinda rough with them."

"Well, maybe if they weren't so stupid then I wouldn't have had to say shit like that," Bakugou grumbled. He was quiet for a moment before he sighed, getting up.

"I don't need you extras sopping all over me," he grunted, walking out the door. "I'll go find them."

The sun was setting as you sat on the bench outside the dorms, trying your best not to cry. Tears welled up at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn't let Bakugou get to you like that. He didn't deserve to get to you like that.

You sniffed and looked down at your hands, feeling a pang in your chest. Did he really think you were that stupid? Did he really want you out of his way? You dryly laughed to yourself, wiping at your eyes. Of course he wouldn't want you, you thought. He was dead set on his future and you were just an obstacle he needed to step over. You meant less to him than you wanted to.

"Hey."

Your head snapped up to see Bakugou standing a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on you. You frowned, purposefully looking away from him.

"I said, 'hey.' What, did you go mute all of a sudden?" Bakugou scowled at you when you didn't turn to look at him. He sighed deeply before looking out at the sunset himself.

"I'm sorry."

Your breath caught in your throat at the words. Did Bakugou, the Bakugou Katsuki, really just apologize? And to you of all people? You turned a surpised gaze to his standing figure, eyes on his profile. His scowl was softened as he looked at the sun, golden light washing over his features.

In that moment, he was beautiful. And your face heated up at the realization, butterflies swarming your stomach. Flustered, you shifted in your seat, attempting to compose yourself.

"You feel sick or something?" You teased.

"A guy can't apologize without it being weird?" Bakugou shot back, eyebrows furrowed, annoyed.

"It's a little out of character for you specifically," you tilted your head to look at him.

"Yeah? Well, it's 'a little out of character' to just walk away from a fight," he mocked you. You shook your head, standing up to face him.

"Do you ever stop?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

"What's your issue, Bakugou?"

"Maybe you're my issue!"

"What does that even mean?" You spread your arms exasperatedly. Bakugou took two steps toward you.

"It means what I want it to mean," he growled.

"Care to share?"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

Bakugou grabbed your waist and pulled you close, forcefully joining his lips with yours. Your hands found their way onto the sides of his head as he gripped one hand on your torso and the other in your hair. The kiss was furious, passionate, and longing all rolled into one.

It eventually slowed down as soon as it started, your previously knitted brows relaxing as you two found a rhythm in the madness. He smelled of singed wood and something sweet underneath. Exactly what you expected.

Breaking away with a gasp, you let your hands slide down his neck and rest on his shoulders. You searched his eyes for anything negative: regret, disgust, anger. Instead, you found a firm softness looking back into your own.

"Hey," you whispered, unable to raise your voice any louder. He smirked at your speechlessness.

"Hey," he replied smoothly, wrapping both arms around your waist. You smiled, playing with the locks of hair at the back of his neck.

"I'd like more where that came from," you quirked an eyebrow at him playfully. Bakugou just rolled his eyes and took your hand from his neck begrudgingly, pulling you toward the dorm entrance.

"Get your calculations right, and maybe we can negotiate."

••••

Midoriya

soft boy soft boy soft boy soft boy

We all know that if Midoriya finds someone he likes, this boy PINES

Pines like a mfing evergreen forest man

Anyway, you and Midoriya had always known each other in middle school and now in UA

You both ended up in the hero course, but you transferred in after the first year because of some quirk development

Midoriya with his own developing quirk felt sympathy for you trying to keep control over something so new for you

He naturally gravitated toward you, kind of self-appointing himself as your mentor as you went through the different changes and trained with your new abilities

He grew to really like your humor and openness to the situation and how your spirit never died even when you were struggling

And you admired his willingness to help you! He was so kind and you'd never really had anyone be nice to you with no ulterior motives before

It wasn't long, or surprising, when you two started to develop feelings for each other

One day while you were training your quirk, Midoriya thought he'd stop by to spar and test your skills

One thing led to another and....well....

You dodged Midoriya's leg with expertise and landed squarely on the ground. Jetting off to the left, you aimed for a side sneak attack to catch him off-guard. You activated your quirk for a boost, one of the new developed abilities, and swept his legs from under him in a flash. Midorya was sent to the matted ground with an oof, landing on his back. You stood over him proudly, holding out a hand for him to take.

"That's a new one," Midoriya commented, hoisting himself up. "What do you call it?"

"I don't have a name for it yet," you rubbed the back of your neck as he walked to his bag on the bench. "Probably just...sneak attack kick? I dunno, it's not much of a sneak attack if you see it in broad daylight."

Midoriya laughed at that and lifted a notebook from his bag, clicking a pen and writing in it messily. You stretched your arm over your head and attempted to peek around his shoulder to see what he was writing.

"Whatcha doin'?" You asked curiously. Midoriya quickly closed the notebook and turned around, an embarrassed look on his face.

"N-nothing!" He said. You grinned evilly and put your hands on your hips. Midoriya gulped.

"You got a super secret notebook for super secret thoughts?" You joked, pointing a finger in his chest. He nervously shook his head quickly, tightening his hold on the notebook.

"No way! I was just- uh, just making a note, that's all!" He tried to cover up, but you could see through his facade. Shaking your head, you gave him a pitying look.

"After I just showed you how quick I can be, you really think you can keep your little notebook a secret?" You held the notebook up in your hand, causing Midoriya to do a double-take. He lifted his hands from behind his back to see that you put one of your own empty notebooks in his hands, fooling him into not noticing your switch. You wiggled the notebook cheekily.

"Give that back!" He squeaked out, reaching for the book. You held it up and away from his reach just barely, pushing him away with one of your hands.

"If you want the notebook, you're gonna have to catch me!" You laughed, sprinting off to the other side of the room. Midoriya chased you, using his quirk to make his reflexes faster. Fortunately for you, you knew his tricks. Anything he thought of to try to get the book back, you already figured he would do.

"[Y/N], don't make me ask again," Midoriya reasoned, holding up his hands. You shook your head again, grinning.

"I don't think you even asked a first time!"

"[Y/N], please."

"Why don't I just take a little look-see here..."

"No!"

Midoriya launched at you, but you twisted your body at the last moment to catch him with your legs. He fell to the ground with you pinning him and sitting on top, still holding the notebook. He was dazed from the landing as you began to flip through the pages tauntingly.

"Let's see..." You began, not noticing the terrified look on Midoriya's face. "Stat records, costume ideas...Ah! Hero notes!"

"[Y/N]-" Midoriya groaned but you hushed him.

"You've taken notes on almost all the heroes you've encountered. Impressive!" You nodded. Midoriya covered his reddening face with his hands, admitting defeat. You remained perched above him, straddling his torso.

"I'll pay you fifteen dollars to let this whole thing go," Midoriya reasoned. You just ignored him, scanning through the entries until you found one on yourself.

"Wow, my first fan!" You laughed, looking over the page. "Such detailed notes, too. You've got my special attacks, my defense moves, my favorite color-"

That made you stop. You instantly shut up, staring at the entries that Midoriya had made on you. Looking over the list, and it was long, you saw that his notes stretched far past just what made you a hero.

He had noted your favorite color, what you liked to eat, your favorite animal. He had your likes and dislikes neatly scrawled on the pages, front and back filled with different tidbits about yourself that he had picked up. You looked past the notebook and down at the embarrassed boy.

"I don't know if I find this flattering or creepy," you admitted. Midoriya quickly removed his hands from his face urgently.

"It-it's not like that, I swear!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'm not weird, I promise. I just...thought you were noteworthy, that's all."

You felt something blossom in your chest as your own cheeks went red. Clearing your throat, you glanced back at the notes he had taken on you, no doubt things you had told him or ranted about in the past. He really thought you were noteworthy?

Further down the list were things that were less surface-level and more of his own opinions: your personality, the sound of your laugh, how your eyes looked when you were excited. You couldn't help but smile at the effort.

"I'm sorry if it's weird, I just-"

"I think it's really sweet," you interrupted him, laying the notebook on the ground. His chest warmed at the sight of your sincere smile, you looking down at him like that.

"Y-You do?"

"Yeah! No one's ever really paid that much notice to me," you admitted sheepishly. Midoriya's eyes softened at your comment.

"I don't see why they wouldn't," he said impulsively. "You're amazing. I couldn't help but notice you."

You smiled stupidly down at the boy who had shown you so much kindness these past few months. He had shown that he cared about you in so many ways, all of them small and unique to who he was. You felt so incredibly lucky to have found someone like him.

"I know we just sparred," Midoriya blurted out, "and I know we're kinda sweaty, but you look really cute right now, and I don't really have much else to hide so I guess it couldn't hurt to maybe just-"

"Yes, you can kiss me," you finished for him. Midoriya sucked in a breath, smiling thankfully, before pulling you down to meet him halfway.

Your hands rested on the mat on either side of his head as he pulled you down by your shirt, gently moving his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, just like the way he treated you daily. You couldn't help but smile into it, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment that you'd dreamed of for weeks.

Breaking apart, neither of you had much to say as your faces were both incredibly red and Midoriya could barely process how his dreams had come true just like that. You leaned down to give him one last parting kiss before attempting to get up from the floor.

"I didn't say I was done," he muttered, pulling you down again and smiling before going in for another kiss.

~~~~~~

AHDKFISHWNEKDDJ these all ruined me completely goodbye i am deceased from the adorableness

requests are welcome! :)

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catboylupin · 4 years ago

Note

you have rly interesting takes abt wolfstar!! I was wondering if you had any head canons about the Prank like why Sirius did it and what Remus' reaction was?

hello and thank you and i’m So sorry that this has been sitting in my drafts for like Weeks at this point.... i’m physically incapable of doing anything intellectually demanding in a timely matter and this is such a hard topic because, like, i don’t know!! i’m not very well acquainted with the Fandom Mythology surrounding the Prank or the mainstream interpretation of events so i really don’t know what to make of it, especially in terms of sirius’s motivation. here are a few things that i referenced when typing this all out: meta meta/fic fic beautiful art

the first thing that is interesting to me, and something to keep in the back of our minds when thinking about this, is that when discussing the prank in the shack during PoA, sirius says that “it served [snape] right.”

also i think that the song hospital by the modern lovers possesses some outstanding post Prank vibes...

ok so re: sirius’s motivation. i don’t know. i think it was a combination of things. i don’t even think that sirius entirely knew why he did it, or what there was to gain.

i guess the thing to sort out is to what extent sirius factored remus into the equation. was he not thinking about remus at all and how it would affect him and just wanted to hurt snape because he hated him, or was he like “this is for remus and remus will think it’s funny too”?

i think that he felt slightly goaded by snape because snape was being a massive asshole trying to get them expelled, and he also just did not like him at all. like, the most obvious motivation or end goal in sirius telling him is that he just wanted to scare snape so he would leave them alone and also it would be a little funny because hahaha he is a slimey wizard nazi (at age 15/16 do you think sirius would be politically advanced enough to have a ‘punching nazis’ outlook on snape? i don’t know)

and i don’t think that he ever seriously thought that remus would react well (like, how could he? sirius had to have known that remus’s worst fear ever was hurting someone). and he was literally risking the entire school finding out he was a werewolf. but maybe a small part of sirius was like “take that snape!! that’s what you get for bullying my beautiful mysterious friend!! remus will love this lol”

but i think the thing that makes the most sense is that he wasn’t thinking about remus that much and didn’t think he would react well.

and here i where you can start thinking about sirius’s upbringing and how that affected how he viewed werewolves/remus.

i think that sirius was probably raised surrounded by some pretty intense anti-werewolf beliefs and he dealt with remus being a werewolf by 1. separating remus from the wolf and 2. kind of like romanticizing it. so much of sirius’s attraction to remus stemmed from this sort of fascination.. james was so similar to sirius and generally uncomplicated, but remus, even though he was kind of weird looking, always sort of elicited this morbid curiosity from him. and he saw remus’s lycanthropy as something he could fix, or at least help (see: the animagus thing, my personal headcanon that he was very into taking care of remus during their relationship). remus was his tragic werewolf friend. but remus never thought that sirius understood his lycanthropy the way remus wanted him to, that there was always this sort of tension, a lingering sense of “you think you’re so different from your family, but you’re not really.”

sirius could have thought that snape actually knew about remus and wanted to make him prove that he knew, like: “sirius, i know what remus’s secret is, hint hint wink wink” “okay, if you really know then go to the shrieking shack,” like snape kind of goaded sirius into telling him, and sirius thought that he would know better. but that is just such a profoundly stupid thing for sirius to do, and i feel like putting too much blame on snape is being too generous to sirius.

leescoresbies has an interesting headcanon that the prank happened around the time sirius ran away from home and he was thus was very emotionally volatile. and so it was in part a result of sirius’s trauma/anger/joy, and i like that idea, those emotions had to have been a factor. and if you are someone that has a really hard time reconciling with sirius’s shitty behavior as a teen, that’s kind of an easy/ canon compliant way of saying “yeah, he was an asshole, but there was also this other thing going on...etc.” however, i don’t think that was the only reason, or even the main reason. i think that sirius is a deeply flawed person and thinking about the prank from the perspective of said flawed-ness makes his and remus’s relationship all the more complicated/interesting.

and unfortunately a lot of this sort of boils down to whether or not sirius wanted to kill or seriously injure snape. those were the stakes he was dealing with in this situation. i don’t think that sirius wanted to kill him, just because that’s not really the sort of thing teenagers do, you know. and, as further evidenced by how he treated kreacher, sirius doesn’t always treat those he considers lesser than him with any sort of respect. maybe sirius just didn’t care that much about whether or not he died. he knew on an intellectual level that he was sending snape to his likely death, but maybe he just didn’t make that calculation in the moment? like sirius was so used to not facing consequences that maybe he thought things wouldn’t turn out that badly.

i can understand, maybe, in sirius’s version of events, in his own reckless, teenage narrative, that he thought it would be okay to hurt snape. but remus? did he seriously fail to make the calculation that he would be turning him into a murderer? what sirius did was such a major, major trespass of trust/friendship in a way that is actually sort of unforgivable.

doesn’t sirius say in PoA “i’d rather die than betray my friends!” ? well, he did : / he betrayed remus..

and i think that remus would be massively upset and i don’t think he ever really completely forgave him.

when did this happen? 5th or 6th year? i think that by this time remus would kind of be relegated to a state of melodramatic, shame-ridden misery that came along with being sort of in love with sirius. and so the prank really tore him apart, because of course it would. remus was so used to being defined by his lycanthropy, used to facing discrimination, and his friends were his one refuge from that. but then sirius who he loved used him basically as a means to an end. what sirius did was incredibly exploitative— he exploited remus’s marginalized identity for personal gain without thinking about how it would affect him. and i think that remus really did care about him enough to want to forgive him. he probably felt like he had to forgive him (his friends were too important for him to lose, and, importantly, there was probably this feeling of “i am a werewolf and therefore i need to be extraordinarily forgiving in order to be perceived as non threatening, and this is just how the world treats people like me and i can’t and shouldn’t fight back”). and those are just such deeply fucked up feelings to feel towards a friend, especially one you admire and have a major soul crushing crush on.

i think that there was a period of time after the fact when they weren’t really talking, remus was very rightfully upset, everyone was angry at sirius... i think that sirius apologized, but sort of begrudgingly. because twenty years later he still thought that snape got what he deserved.

at times i think that remus was someone who saw his relationships as very transactional. and initially he felt in debt to the other marauders because of the animagus thing and just because they were his friends. and, as dear @direwolf-summer said in this post, the prank changed the dynamic between remus and sirius: remus was no longer the one in debt, sirius was. and that is such an interesting point. remus starts demanding more from him and he finally feels that, even though sirius was really popular and closer to james or whatever, they were on even standing. this is how he was able to be more forward about his feelings— sirius stopped being this precious object who demanded endless patience in order to retain as a friend (or so he thought, this is remus’s insecurity showing). he stopped feeling so bad about having a crush on sirius. he’d be like “fuck you sirius. i’m in love with you. deal with it and you have to be nice about it in order to repay your debts.” like he wouldn’t say that out loud but it would be in his internal monologue and he would kinda hint at it.

there’s that line in eclipse and transit where remus says: “You say one thing and do another and half the time you don’t even try to say it, it’s like, I don’t know, like you’re daring me to leave. And everything—every single thing Sirius, it all comes back to January of sixth year, whether you’ll ever admit it or not. Or whether you even realize it” and i think it’s fitting. during fights remus probably would bring it up, and sirius would fail to understand why remus never got over it. like, sirius: “i apologized i was 15!!” and remus: “this is bigger than just that, what you did was emblematic of your flaws as a person and how even though you understand me more than almost anyone else you still don’t understand me completely and it frustrates me!!! and also i feel like you never fully understood that what you did was extraordinary fucked up.”

and i think that remus was so in love with sirius that he did forgive him, or otherwise allowed his love and affection to forget about it. but it was always bubbling under the surface...and that’s why their relationship was sort of volatile, that’s why he was so willing to believe that sirius was the spy (as in, “he betrayed me, why wouldn’t he have betrayed james and lily?”)

now i’m remembering when, in one of the snape’s memory /pensieve / flashback scenes in OotP, sirius says “i wish it was the full moon” and remus says, darkly, “you might.” now, we don’t know if that scene takes place before or after the Prank (before probably? idk), but i feel like it further compounds the extent to which sirius seems woefully unaware that remus is a werewolf and it’s not something he can separate from himself and that lycanthropy impacts every facet of his life. sirius came to understand it as just some fun thing to do every month. his sort of ignorance towards other people’s needs and experiences is also further evidenced by how he treated harry like he was james. sirius has a pretty good track record of taking other people’s pain and making into something for him to enjoy. and he doesn’t do so in a way that is entirely selfish either, i think he really thought he was helping harry and remus. maybe it all goes back to his family and childhood trauma or something (doesn’t everything? “it all started one afternoon in the 1960s..”)

#i have vague thoughts about other things but that's the extent to which i am capable of articulating my feelings #this is all gibberish isn't it? idk. no tldr im forcing you to read all my illegible brain soup #wolfstar #wolfstar meta #the prank #ask #meta #this is the thing i got done today i guess i'm a genius!!! if i finish my overdue econ ia i will be god!!!!!!!#op

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yolkyeomie · 4 years ago

Text

The Moon Is Beautiful | Kim Seungmin

summary — shooting your arrow into everyone’s heart had been so easy until you accidentally shot it into his

word count — 2.7k words

pairing — seungmin x gender neutral!reader (I tried to make it gender neutral,,,, let me know it’s not tho!!)

genre — fluff, high school au, CLIFF HANGER

disclaimer — this is for stayhaven’s valentine event so I hope everyone enjoys what I brought to the table :D !! sorry this is so??? messy and dumb and late LMAO just enjoy it for what it is 🧍🏾‍♀️

tags — @fluffyskzclub

You were bold and that’s what people liked about you. Well, bold in the sense that you had no problem doing things for others. Whenever someone was too shy, too anxious, too frightened to take charge you’d always be the one to do so instead.

It was a habit from when you were a child that only continued to grow and cultivate itself as a primary piece of your personality. You hated the amount of hesitation others took when a job needed to be done, watching people squirm and excuse themselves from doing such minuscule tasks was idiotic in your eyes. So you had always taken it upon yourself to offer up yourself as a substitution, to save both you and your peers from the potential disappointment or embarrassment that a situation called for.

Somehow everyone slowly caught wind of your selfless acts and they began to flock to your side in an attempt to gain your assistance. The issues usually were rather small: presenting in group projects, asking questions for others, ordering food, starting conversation, anything relatively close to those. You didn’t mind either, you never truly got sick of helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

Sure, there were times when people you’d rather not interact with seeked your assistance, but the mere fact that they had to swallow their pride and come to you was enough for you to continue without any second thoughts.

That was until you became the residential high school “Cupid”. It was a one time request, a girl you had known in one of your classes had scurried you to you in a rush and asked for your services and you agreed. She had beens a rather quiet figure amongst the usual rowdiness of the other students so one could only imagine how loud you cooed at her when she asked you to deliver a love letter for her.

So you did as asked, finding the lucky person who had such a sweet secret admirer and delivering the letter in a small yet endearing manner.

Not long after you had given the love letter to them, the two had gotten together almost immediately and you were thrilled. But somehow instead of the focus being put on the new couple within the school halls, it was on you? It had immediately spread that you were the one to give the letter and helped them get together and somehow that equated to you becoming Cupid.

After the occurrence that should have only been a one time thing, it became all anyone ever asked of you. Every few days out of the week you’d have a multitude of students rushing into your classroom when they got the chance and begged you to send their love letters to their crushes.

You’d try to decline for the sake of your own sanity but watching them grovel at your foot and beg was a little… uncomfortable to say the least.

That’s how you became the Cupid of your class, your grade, your entire school, and accidentally made the old childish tradition of sending letters to confirm a mutual attraction popular.

There’s only been two people so far that your Cupid’s arrow never seemed to notch though, no matter how many love letters were shoved their way. One of those being the boy that was approaching you now, Hwang Hyunjin.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin exclaimed, frankly waving his arms in the air and his eyes sparklingly with pure glee when he finally caught your attention. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, his happiness being contagious if you had to be completely honest. You could see why he often received the love letters you were meant to deliver.

Though your eyes immediately caught sight of the pink envelope in his hand, the sight of the object was rather familiar in your time as the resident ‘Cupid’ of your school.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” you jeered, a smug smirk beginning to stretch across your face as he approached you. “Hwang Hyunjin, the infamous lover boy of this generation, handing me a love letter? Tell me, who is the lucky person? I’ve got to know, this is the biggest news of the century!”

The boy rolled his eyes at your teasing, holding the letter away from your gremlin hand as he spoke. “Haha, that’s so funny but no! It’s not mine.”

You involuntarily whine at his response, snatching the letter out of his hand with one big hop and collapsing into the desk. “What do you mean it’s not yours?” You question him scanning the letter up and down for confirmation. It was a nice rosy pink shade and smelled just like lavender, as if it had been sprayed with the specific scent. It was shut tight with a heart stamp placed on it like a wax seal and even had pretty neat hand writing at the top that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You did, however, know that the handwriting belonged to the boy that stood right in front of you denying ownership of the letter. “This is your handwriting, how is this not yours?” You argued, “and don’t try to lie and say it’s not, I’ve seen your essay drafts enough to know what your handwriting looks like.”

The boy winced at the thought, quickly reminiscing on the memories of the two of you working together on projects before returning to reality. “I know it’s my handwriting, but it’s not mine— the letter, I mean! I was asked to write everything down because the sender wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Anonymous?” You repeated making sure you heard him correctly. You searched the envelope for any sort of signature and lo and behold, there was none that you could find. All that was left on the outside of the card was a yellow sticky note with a locker number written on it.

This was… a first for you. Usually when people asked you to deliver the confessions of love to the receiver, they wanted their name mentioned so that they wouldn’t get you confused with someone else. Even then, just in case, they always had their name written somewhere on their envelopes to ensure that the receiver knew exactly who they would be responding to. No one had ever asked you to anonymously deliver letters.

“What? Are anonymous letters out of your requirements?” Hyunjin questioned, playing with a strand of his silky black hair as he grinned at you.

You shook your head immediately, though struggling to release your gaze from the mysterious letter. “No, not at all. It’s just… new I guess? I’m so used to knowing who exactly I’m going to and who I’m delivering for. It’s weird.”

“Why? Because you’re no longer in the loop?” You nearly jump out of your skin as you turn around, the hair on your neck standing straight up like a cat’s. The doggish smile of Seungmin stared back at you, a teasing glint in his eyes as he took the envelope out of your hands. “Wow Y/N, I never took you to the nosy type… but I guess being the school’s Stupid Cupid changes you.”

This was the second person who’s heart you could never strike with your Cupid arrow, Kim Seungmin.

You struggle to comprehend his words, ignoring his insults as your ears immediately begin to burn in a sense of embarrassment as you bite back at him. “I’m not being nosy!” You try to convince him, taking the letter out of his hands. “I’m just not used to giving these without any background information, that’s all.”

“Does wanting background information mean you're being nosy?” The boy questioned, his light chuckle like music to your ears despite his taunting words, “your trying to poke your nose into business you have no right to be in.”

“These letters are my business,” you snap back, “I’m the one who delivers them, for free even! I should know who is sending them and who is recovering them. It just… makes sense!”

You’ve known Kim Seungmin for awhile now, you weren’t strangers at all. In fact your mothers went to school together when they were your age, so in a sense the two of you were close. But Seungmin always treated you like an annoying little sibling any second he caught, pushing whatever button he could find. You never bickered, per se, he just enjoyed making fun of you and you were very easy to make heated.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever…” He shrugged off, not even noticing how much he was pushing him buttons. “Whether you like it or not you are not entitled to that kind of information. Let’s be honest there’s probably a reason that it’s not stated who is going to and who it’s coming from.”

After a moment of thought, Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “You’re a very well-known person around the school now, they’ll be put in the spotlight just because you’re involved in their romance. They probably won’t like all that attention but still want you to deliver the letter.”

“Well…,” You trail off seeing their side of the argument. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, you do have to respect their privacy. “Ugh, I hate it when you guys make sense it makes everything less fun.”

Seungmin grinned ear to ear at your surrender, quickly shooting an off handed comment,” we’re just trying to make sure that our Stupid Cupid doesn’t get into a fight with someone because they decided to invade someone’s privacy.”

“It’s not invading privacy!” you snap back at him, beginning your daily bickering once again. You knew he was right but you’d rather jump into the ocean and let Seungmin have the last laugh. “What, I should go deliver this before class starts… And before I decide to choke you out.”

“Wise decision,” Hyunjin laughed, side eying Seungmin as you stood up from your seat. “I’m almost one hundred percent sure Seungmin wouldn’t be able to fight back anyway.”

“Hey—!” Seungmin didn’t get the chance to respond, not when Hyunjin leaped over the desk to cover his mouth and you begin dashing out of the room. As popular and close to Seungmin as Hyunjin may seem, he would always cover for you at the end of the day. Which worked out well in your favor... most of the time.

Thankfully he had held off Seungmin long for you to get away, gleefully skipping down the bright hallways with a pep in your step. It didn’t matter how many times you had to deliver a love letter to someone, whether it was anonymous or not, you’d always feel a warm feeling in your chest knowing that the feelings you held in your hand were raw and true.

And if you had to be honest? Knowing that the letter you had now was completely anonymous to keep their emotions hidden from the rest of the student body made your heart warm. Oh young love… how sweet it must be to be in love.

“One thirty-two…,” you counted to yourself, scanning the numbers written on the lockers. It didn’t take long to get where you needed to be, luckily the love letter was being delivered to someone near your own locker. You knew this hallway like the back of your hand since this is where you usually could be found.

Every so often a student would notice your presence in the area and spot the love letter in your hands, chaos soon beginning afterward. The whole hall would flare up in eager whispers and trembling hands as everyone wondered, ‘is it me? Is it my turn to get struck by your arrow?’

Their hopeful smiles would soon drop into disappointed groans when you passed them without a second thought, still searching for the anonymous receiver’s locker. Constant questions of ‘who is it this time?’ would spread across the room as you continued your search, as curious as you to figure out who was getting their heart pierced by Cupid’s arrow.

“One thirty-nine…,” you continued, blinking your eyes rapidly as you looked back from the love letter to the locker not that far from you. The sticky note attached to the letter had been addressed to locker number one forty-one and somehow you hadn’t noticed that that’s you. You're locker one forty one, that’s the one you were occupying for the school year. “Wait, what?”

You glanced from the locker number to the sticky note and it wasn’t wrong. You were at the right locker, which meant the love letter was addressed to you in the end. It really was your business after all.

“What am I supposed to do? Prick myself with my own arrow,” you joked, leaning up against the metal compartments to look a little closer at the letter in your hands. You were notoriously known for setting couples up together just by giving the confessions to them, but what were you supposed to do if you didn’t know who it was?

You didn’t mind getting into a relationship yourself, honestly you didn’t, but you didn’t know who it was from! Hyunjin gave you no clue and he didn’t even point out the fact that the locker number written on the sticky note was yours. “This makes me infuriated for some reason,” you mumble, pressing your back up against the lockers as you begin to carefully open the letter for yourself.

As soon as you opened the envelope the scent of lavender became even stronger, as if the letter itself was sprayed heavily with a lavender perfume. You also didn’t mind that though, lavender was your favorite scent for perfume. You could often be found trucking through the halls with the smell of lavender groves trailing behind you.

To the Stupid Cupid,

The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?

From,

Your Psyche.

“Stupid Cupid?” You hissed, annoyed at the teasing that could be found in the love letter. If someone was going to write you a love letter, shouldn’t they have been a little nicer to win you over? You get other couples together, but that doesn’t mean you’d be won over so easily. “How rude… there’s no need for name calling.”

This saying however, you’ve seen it before. Well, not seen, more like heard of it every so often. It was A Japanese saying that was seen as a more intimate and poetic way of confessing your love to someone.

You knew specifically because every so often you’d have other students run up to you and ask if the “the moon was beautiful, isn't it?” was a good way to ask out their long (but usually short) term crushes. No one that had ever asked you had the guts to use it since it felt like an odd way to confess but here you are now, staring at the words written on the letter addressed to you.

“Wait a minute… Stupid Cupid?” You repeated, standing up to your full height as you read over the letter again. You read it once, twice, three times, four, maybe even more before you realized that no one who simply admired you from a afar knew your nickname was Stupid Cupid, only close friends. Even then, Hyunjin had never used it as a way to address you, the words have never even fallen from his mouth and he’s one of the closest people to you.

You could already cross out him as a potential candidate anyway because you knew exactly what his handwriting was like after working with him for so long. It was even on the front and back of the envelope too, but the writing within the letter wasn’t Hyunjin’s at all. You knew it was a little too neat and legible to him. The only person with handwriting like this hand for have been…

“Hey, Stupid Cupid!” You turn your head with neck breaking speed, your eyes widening as the familiar nickname matches to the voice and face of Kim Seungmin as he walks down the hall. He waved his hands to you innocent as he caught your attention, his teasing puppy grin growing wider with every passing second as he called, “did you deliver that letter already?”

You glance down at the love letter before you look back up at him, the feeling of disbelief morphing onto your face as you blurted out without thinking. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it, Seungmin?”

76 notes · View notes

infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

Text

WIFE

Summary: You and Dick, after years of indefinite separation and depression, have finally reunited. Dick can’t wait to start a family with you. You love Dick, but you soon realize that you cannot bear him a son, a daughter, or a child.

Word Count: 10.9k (i’m being generous)

Warnings: Infertility, period typical sexism, Loneliness, based off of a mitski song what did you expect, here comes the angst train *sad choo choo*

Notes: Female reader. and title (literally) taken from Wife By Mitski, which I rec listening too for the extra painful experience. So I’m back from the dead...ish. I wanna apologize for going AWOL for two-three months, guess Iw anted to focus on other works and I feel like x readers are not my strong suit. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna write them! I can’t promise anything, but I am planning some stories. Not as long or as painful as this is, of course!

I’m not gonna lie, I cried while writing this. Not only because it’s Mitski, but infertility is something that hit’s close to home for me and my family. Was this story just me projecting my generational trauma into this fic? Never! Anyways, hopefully I won’t go AWOL again, atleast not for that long. It’s really hard to find the motivation to write, but I’ll do it. For you guys ;)

Taglist: @easy-company-tradition

When Dick Winters had left for the war five years ago, he had made a promise to you the night before he was drafted. You were nineteen and naive, planned for college and he was twenty-seven, a post-graduate and Business Major. Your father was his professor and one of his best students. You would see Dick every Friday Night. As you would pick at the leftover peas on your plate, he would turn to look at your father to talk about something business-related. His eyes, you could never tell if they were a light shade of blue or green, would meet yours. It would be for a brief second. Those brief seconds would make you drop your fork and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

You had a small crush on Dick Winter’s.

It took you a few weeks to catch onto his eye color. They were a beautiful mixture of blue and green, reflecting a mint color. The taper candles would always lighten his eyes up. The reason you finally found out this eye color was because each dinner, you’d catch Dick staring at you. You were naturally oblivious to it, keeping your head down as your father talked a business deal. But whenever he mentioned Dick’s name, you would look up, see Dick’s dilated mint pupils looking right into your eyes before he swiftly turned his head to your father, acting like he was listening to every little word he was saying.

Dick had become a family friend. Instead of dinners once a week, he would come by your house more frequently in the summer months. The summer you had met Dick, there was a three-month-long heatwave. From what you understood, Dick had been doing an internship with your father along with extra studies, extracurriculars, and even more. It sounded like a lot for a young man. He was over three times a week, always in your father’s studies or the porch, drinking lemonade as he and your father discussed business. You’d sit on top of the porch, lazily slumped in a chair in your floral dirndl, reading And Both Were Young as you watched Dick Winters, in shorts and a tight white shirt with his strawberry blonde hair a little messy. Every time he spoke, your heart would skip a beat.

“Two jobs?” You cried, skipping ahead of him in your flats that you had slipped on in a rush, the heels hanging out of the back. “And an internship? How do you do it all?”

Dick looked down at your tiner figure, his lips curving into a subtle smile at your question. Whenever he smiled, his cheeks would wrinkle. It was a small detail you caught into about Dick that you adored. “I don’t go to parties a lot. Not worth the time that I’ve got. I work these jobs so I can get through school and support my family.”

“That’s very admirable, Dick. Not a lot of guys my age would even consider that.” You remarked with a compliment. Dick walked beside you, hands behind your back with a straight back. His gaze lingered in you as he scanned your figure. Now that Dick was around more often, you always made sure to wear your best outfits. You wouldn’t have considered yourself very vain, but with Dick, something had changed. You started wearing the pretty pastel dresses your mother approved off, fine pearls, expensive cologne, and even the short rompers that your mother didn’t approve of. When wearing makeup, you felt like a woman more than a girl, which is what you wanted Dick to see you as.

“Thank you, y/n.” The strawberry blonde politely thanked with a curt nod. The two of you had a little routine now. While your mother would make dinner and your father would smoke a cigar in the back with the dogs, you’d take Dick into your backyard and down a little cobblestone trail to a hidden lake. You liked to go there to read to escape, and Dick needed a small break from working in the burning heat. So it was idle. “Do you have plans now that you’ve graduated?”

“Yes. I’m starting classes at Franklin and Marshall since they’ve allowed women. My mother prefers I stay home and learn how to be a lady instead of reading,” You explained with a sigh. The only woman in a class full for men. Times were changing, and nothing was going to stop you from working. “She cares more about her grandchildren then her daughter’s desires.”

“Well, it is your choice? Not your mother or father’s. As long as you were happy, then they should be happy for you. I think you’ll like it,” Dick kindly reassured, “You’re a very nice young lady, y/n. I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

The two of you arrived at the lake. The sun was setting over the sky as it shined on the lake. There was an orange and pink hue in the sky. Dick and you stood besides each other. The strawberry blonde shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, feeling a small breeze in the night. The air got colder in the nights, which felt like a refreshing treat after a long day of work and unbearable heat. The sun made his strawberry blonde hair and skin glow like he was some kind of god.

You admired Dick as he stood there, biting your lip and hands playing with the belt fabric on your skirt.

“Dick?” You managed to choke, your voice cracking.

He opened one eye and looked at you, worried. “Is everything okay, y/n?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Dick looked bewildered. It took him a second to process the question. His expression was that of a high school student stumped on an equation in math class. He hadn’t been outside much, maybe the heat was getting to him. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

“Can you please kiss me?” You reiterated, biting your lip in vexation. “I haven’t met a man like you, Dick. None of the boys my mother is setting me up with are like. They aren’t as intelligent, hardworking, cordial. When I tell these boys I want to read and live my life, they put me down-call me insane and ill. But you don’t do those things. You just stand there and listen to me. I may not make sense since I am probably just some young immature girl who knows nothing about being a proper lady. You even give me kind words of advice. No other boy would do that. Only a man would do such a thing.” You vented, letting your words spill out like vomit.

Dick wasn’t reacting at all. At Least it wasn’t obvious. He turned his figure towards you, eyes glued as his lips puckered against each other’s. He seemed taken aback by your honesty since you were someone who was reserved, only speaking when necessary. That didn’t mean adding your opinion to one of your father’s at dinner. Dick wasn’t obvious to your “rebellious” nature. Your mother would always scold you for interrupting the men. Your father didn’t mind your info if, and so didn’t Dick. He was interested in your perspective, and would always ask for further intake since it was the gentlemen thing to do.

You looked at him and shook your head, turning to walk back. “Forget it,” You sighed as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his. Dick got a smell of your perfume, a lavender and vanilla, it was definitely expensive. He liked y/n’s armora, especially after a long day of being in a stuffy room full of whiskey and burning cigars. “You probably think I’m just a mad woman-“

Dick thought about his decision for a second. He had to think thinkly. When he made up his mind, he sped walk towards you. “Wait,” He called. He saw you turn around with your silky (y/h/c) (y/h/t) spring right behind you. He scrunched up a fist feeling a lump grow in his throat as he looked a few slow steps towards you.

“You’re not a mad woman. I think you’re wonderful to be around. I always enjoy our conversations and our midnight walks,” Dick commented. He was at a loss of words for the kiss. When you had asked, you sounded like you were begging, but hid it.

It took him a while to realize that the two’s of you had a fair amount in common. You both were soft spoken souls, friendly but quiet. You distanced yourself from large crowds and were usually confident in each other since you both had a trust. You know how eachother worked like nobody else did-a small, intimate detail that only the two of you would watch into.

“You’re also growing into a beautiful young woman each day. Being a lady doesn’t mean being all prim and proper, it means being mature, kind, and respectful to others. That’s what you are.” Dick was only a few steps away. You listened to every word he said, your hands restraining themselves from touching his chest. He could once again smell the cologne and see the moonlight shine on your eyes and hair-the gloss you wore sparkled as well.

“But I couldn’t kiss you. You’re father wouldn’t approve of it.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. Your hands met his chest. You were so caught up in the heat of it that you didn’t realize that your hands rested on Dick’s Ivory collared shirt. Dick, however, didn’t protest at all.

You gently scrunched the fabric, “He’s not here. Just one. Before my mom tries to marry me off. Just one kiss and I won’t ask for anything else of you, Dick.”

Dick put his bigger hands onto yours as his thumb finessed the small part of your soft, [y/s/c] skin in between your index and thumb. “I…”

You gave him those eyes. They were begging. One kiss from a real man and you would be content.

Dick let out a defeated sigh, “...will. Just one. For you.”

So he did. In the moonlight, Dick Winters held you close and became your first kiss. Your lips were like a sweet treat. It felt miraculous after a long day of work. It was meant to be quick, but he was obsessed with your cushion lips and sweet lip gloss. His hands firmly rested on your lower back as his fingers scrunched with the material. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was yours, so he made sure to be gentle with you, even though he struggled. The whiff of your perfume, your shirt showing off your abdomen, the silliness of your hair. It was hard just for it to be one kiss.

Dick walked to you, your arm slung in the hole of his elbow. The two of you didn’t speak any words once you arrived back for dinner. It was a typical dinner. Your mother always made Salmon, rice, and peas on Saturdays, which occurred to be Dick’s favourite meal. Your mother raved about boys who could “tame” you, your father spoke of a new business deal in the news, you picked at the leftover peas, and Dick looked at your father with his weary king eyes, attempting to look interested in the conversation.

What kept him away in the dinner as your bare ankle, brushing against his trousers. It was a little bit distracting. Thank god he was a good pretender. It felt so wrong to be doing this, yet so right. You were unlike a lot of women Dick had met. You always caught his attention, watching you each day as you grow into a young, educated woman.

To tame your foot, Dick wrapped his ankle around yours, tenderly holding it down until the meal was over. After dinner was over, Dick wished your family a goodnight.. He gave your mother who adored him a kiss on the cheek, your father a firm handshake, and you apart on the shoulder. His fingers struggled on your bare shoulder for what seemed like forever, brushing against the edge of your neck.

And with that, Dick was gone into the night. You headed to bed and changed, not washing your lips. You had a smile on your face as you twisted and turned. It was a one time occurance, but it felt like your fantasy had come to life.

But before you knew it, it would all be over. Dick would be back on Tuesday, and the two of you would act like nothing had ever happened.

But what Dick and you didn’t know is that it wouldn't be the first time of hushed kisses, lingering fingers, and limbs grazing passionately against each other.

————

The US had entered the war overseas. Most of the boys in your class were putting a pause on their lives to go fight in Africa, The Pacific, or Europe. Anybody who was over the age of eighteen was required to draft, so town was a shit show of crying mothers, lanky boys who could possibly never come home, and military trucks. You wanted to apply to be a combat nurse, but you weren’t of the age requirement.

Dick was going to war.

Ever since the night at the lake, you and Dick kept a closted relationship. He still came over in the Summers. Some days you wouldn’t even see him. But the small moments you had together, whether that be watching the twinkling stars on your walk on the lake hand in hand or cuddled reading books on a rainy day in your isolated greenhouse porch, mattered so much. If you had a bad day, he'd sit there and listen. He wouldn’t judge or give any advice. You didn’t know if he understood your struggles, but it made you happy to know that someone would sit there and listen. For comfort, he would take the book out of your hands and bookmark it, slide off your dangling flats, and pull you into his chest.

Dick’s language of romance wasn’t grand or romantic. Although reticent, his tranquil actions were nothing but idyllic. It was the little things that counted, whether it was fresh perennial’s picked from the field or even a hug. Your relationship didn’t have to be based on gifts and what others thought of you. It was the little things that counted.

The night before he was drafted, Dick invited your family over to his farm. It was at the edge of town and down a long dirt road, leading to a little white house and large red barn. It was picturesque, a cornfield and trees for miles on end. There was no constant chatter, horns blaring, or pressure-it was just quiet.

When your parents and Dick’s parents were distracted in conversation, Dick requested to take a walk with you. As much as you enjoyed talking to the bubbly Anne, you needed a small escape. You followed Dick to the back of his tiny kitchen. Being the gentleman he was, he held the door open and let you walk ahead of him. The only noise that could be heard were the chirps of crickets and the wind gently blowing. You held a hand down on a dress your mother forced you to wear. It was a Jade summer frock, but Dick had complimented you. So it made the frock somewhat bearable.

The two of you walked in his backyard. You had no clue where he was leading you. You turned to Dick to ask. He didn’t respond with words. His fingers edged on your as you unruled your fingers, letting his hand sink into yours. His hands were worked, and you felt awful so you gently caressed the upper skin with your thumb.

“Where are we going?” You questioned as you looked left and right, clinging onto the shawl that hung from your shoulders.

Dick looked down at you. He had a subtle smile on his lips as he looked down at you. All of the anxiety he had felt about being drafted, work, and the war faded away when he looked at you. Dick didn’t need to kiss you to know that you loved him; he could tell from the gentle look of your stunning (y/e/c) eyes. He watched you look into the never ending field ahead of you, the wind blowing loose strands of your updo. You wore a little bit of makeup. It was always subtle. He knew you hated wearing makeup and did you want to do it to look “presentable”. Dick didn’t care what you looked like, whether it be in overalls or a dress, he was infatuated with you.

He should have known from day one that y/n, the mischievous daughter of his Economics professor, had been yearning for him. He attempted to get lost in the papers and speeches of your father in his regal office with the shades closed and the whiff of smoke, earth paper, and Whiskey. Even when he was trapped in the office, you were still on his mind with your elegant perfume and book in hand.

“Here.” He announced, overlooking the cornfield. The colossal, green plants waved in the wind, in front of a hazy smoky dull sunset. You didn’t respond and simply looked into the sunset, slowly watching the shining sun set into the ground. “The cornfields, they remind me of you.”

A smirk curved on your gloss lips as you squeezed his bigger, worked hand with your tinier one. “Is that so?”

“They're wild. No matter the season, they are always growing. They're not the easiest plant to manage, there...unruly.” Dick explained, still a gentle smile on his tringale face.

“Are you comparing me to a bunch of crops?” You teased as your head landed on his shoulder. “Not a lot of women find that very romantic.”

Dick leaned his head on top of yours as he, your thighs brushing against each other.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” You broke the silence.

Dick didn’t move and had an eerie stoic expression. He tightened his grip on your hand before looking down to let out a soft sigh.

The sun didn’t shine anymore, the corn had stopped moving in the wind, and the stars didn’t sprinkle. You felt your stomach drop as goose bumps appeared on your exposed arms and legs. You froze and looked down at the grass, seeing your feet nestled right next to Dick’s.

The possibility that this could be the last time you saw Dick, held him, read with him, and kissed him haunted you. As a child, you had made it official that love was off the table. But when the giant gentle with red hair and mint eyes waltzed into your kitchen on that fateful night, your world had been turned upside down. Trying to be logical, you could live if Dick died. He was far too old to marry you, and most likely showed no interest. You could've been just a pretty face for him to silently hold before acting like you never shared tender moments in the moonlight. If he died, you would move on, marry someone your mother chose out for you, and start a mundane life of cooking, folding laundry, and having children.

But emotionally, if Dick didn’t come back to Lancaster, something would be missing from your life. Something important.

“I can’t promise anything. You know that, sweetheart.” Dick cautioned you, whispering into your hair. At Least he was being honest-better than sugar coating a sensitive subject. He tried to make you look at him, but you refused. You were being stubborn, pushing away the emotions and trying to think logically. But in all honesty, it was catching up to you know. Tears stung at your eyes as your mouth quivered.

“I know, you don’t have to tell me, ” You sniffled, “I’m not an idiot. I prefer it if you be straightforward with me.” Dick looked at you with his thin eyebrows knit together and narrowed eyes. After sharing such a kind moment, he most likely wouldn't wanna break news that would tear your heart to pieces.

You preferred if he’d just spit out the words and get it over with. Make it easier for both of you to handle.

He moved on his hands to your cheek to wipe the incoming tears, but you refused. You turned your head and swiped the tears with your shaky palm, red lipstick and mascara staining your skin.

You scoffed in frustration, “Just say you want me to break up with me. It’s for the better. I’ll go to school, you go to war. We act like nothing ever happened. For the greater good. It was fun while it lasted..But I...nevermind.” You looked down at the ground, refusing to look at Dick. One glance and the next thing you would know, tears would be streaming down your face as you ran into the night.

Dick turned and followed after you as your footsteps increased with a few mumbled sniffles. “That’s not what I wanted to say-”

A pained sob escaped your mouth as you walked forward, a red face with tears streaming down your cheek. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please, for the better of us. It’s better to use your mind over your heart and not worry about some young, naive girl who had a crush on her father’s best student!”

“Y/n...”

You continued to walk forward and ignore Dick’s pleas, but your stomping slowed down.

“Y/n...”

Dick was creeping up behind your. Your speed walking slowly turned into slow, sluggish steps. Tears streamed down your face as your hands slung at your sides. Dick was now right behind you, watching you as you sniffled. You slowly turned your head to look at him with mascara running down your face.

“Oh, Sweetheart..” Dick softly sighed. Your whole body turned around as you fell into his arms, letting out a loud sob. Small sniffles turned into wails as you cried into his chest, staining the ivory collared shirt. He stroked your hair as he ran reassuring circles on your back. He wanted you to get all of those pestering emotions out. After a few minutes of sobbing and Dick comfortingly holding you close, he broke the silence.

“That’s not why I brought you here,” Dick cooed into your hair as he traced mindless figures into your lower back.

You looked up with your big (e/y/c) orbs, letting out a little sniffle. He had a soft smile on his face as he wiped a stray hair from your face, slowly tucking it behind your hair. “Then...why did you bring me here..?”

“This cornfield holds a special place in my heart. I come here a lot. It’s peaceful, but lonely.” Dick explained as he grabbed your hand, holding your tiny one in his own. He looked down at you, “After working with your father, I’d come home and run here. I’d stop midway to look at the wind and the way it moved the corn. It was so relaxing, so that’s why I brought you here.”

“To not feel lonely?”

“Yes. I felt alone, until I met you.” He admired, “I was surrounded by people, but I still felt alone. But when I spent time with you, I didn’t feel alone at all. It was a highlight to see you, even if it was sitting across from each other at a table or seeing you, laying on the porch. I looked at you and I got happy.”

“Dick, I…” You were speechless. His words wanted your heart, but his message baffled you. “Appreciate your kindness, but what do you mean?”

The gentle strawberry blonde held your hand. He didn’t hold it tight, but used both his hands to hold them up. He slowly backed up and lowered himself on one knee. From the books you had read, you knew what this way. Initiatively, you would’ve said no and ran away. But Dick had courted you with his gentle hold, reassuring words, and sheer presence.

“I couldn’t keep it any longer. I know there’s a chance that this will be the last time you see me for a while or at all. I said I couldn’t promise anything, but I..can’t hide it. I love you, y/n. I don’t care if you want to start school and make your own money, I don’t care if you wear pants, I don’t care what you do. I care about your happiness. I want you to live a long and happy life. You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever met. I understand you’re young, and you can turn this down if it’s too much. Dick announced as he pulled a velvet box from the back of his pants, he opened the box to reveal a golden Celtic band. You put a hand on your mouth in joyous disabelif. “I want to be with you, but only if you want to be with me. You’d never be alone...Will you marry me, y/n?”

“Dick, this is…” You chuckled in disbelief. One minute you were crying, now you were laughing. Dick in one hand held a beautiful ring, and the other hand your delicate hand. “Wonderful. But my parents...they…”

“I talked to your father. He said pick out a white dress you want.” Dick replied. “You’re mother cried. I thought she was upset, but she was beyond happy. She told me she knew you had an eye on me since I started coming over for dinner. They approved...but if you don’t want this, I understand. I just couldn’t hold it in, even if I don’t come ba-“

“Yes, Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Your words started low, but then turned to loud cheers. You squealed, nodding enthusiastically. “I will, Dick. I’ll marry you. I don’t care. If something does happen, I'll be happy knowing that I’m yours. Even if you don’t…” the three lettered words struggled to come out your mouth. It was such a rough word. Unable to bring yourself to say it, you chose to leave your pessimistic side for something more optimistic. “I won’t be alone, even if you’re in Europe, The Pacific, wherever. I’ll just know you’re here, in my heart and dreams.”

It turned out that this whole dinner was a setup by your family and the Winters. It just had to be Anne Winters that she found about your relationship with Winters. Being sixteen and sassy, she casually shrugged it off and stated that “Dick was a horrible liar”. It should have been obvious with Dick’s favourite meal, the fact that you were placed right next to time, Anne’s teasing, and your mother pestering for you to look presentable. It all made sense now.

But there was one ball in the air-the ceremony. Dick would be leaving for Toccoa the next day, the afternoon. Your parents wanted a big ceremony for the morning. The Winters didn’t care-they just wanted the two of you to be happy considering that Dick was going to be away for a long time or forever.

You and Dick had to come to an agreement. You announced at the end of dessert that you would wait to be married until Dick came back from the war.

Obviously, this caused a bit of uproar. But with Dick leaving tomorrow, they chose not to make a big deal of it. As long as you and Dick were happy, your families could be nothing but be happy for you. Even if it was a short amount of time.

After the storm that settled, you and Dick had left his house. You hopped in his truck and drove to the local chapel Dick had attended with his family every Sunday. In the middle of the night, the two of you eloped. He made sure to pull over and pick out a group of Perennials, all kinds of your favorites. You even stuffed some into your messy updo which had turned into a half updo.

After your quiet ceremony, the two of you drove back to your estate. There, the two of you spent your first, and poetically final, night together in your childhood bedroom; making love, cuddling, and cherishing every moment you shared with each other.

The variety of perennials’s Dick had picked out were placed into a blue and white ginger jar. It was meant to be a memory of Dick. He wouldn’t be there psychically, but spiritually, he would be right there.

Dick was surprised to learn that you weren’t a virgin. He was raised a Mennonite, waiting for marriage. You, being a curious young woman, had experimented. It was once, and an unpleasant experience. Before, you had felt indifferent about sex. It was something that women were meant to desire. You were told to be a virgin and wait for a man to take control of you. Hating those words, you chose to do the opposite. Nobody knew of your little secret, besides Dick-your husband.

Dick was nothing like the boy you had lost your virginity to. Unlike that boy, he was a man. Not because he was masculine and tough, but because he treated you like his equal. He never treated you any differently from your father. Dick had morals and integrity, he was compassionate, quiet but polite, open-minded, and used his brain and heart. That was what you defined a real man as.

Dick treated you like you were made of glass. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He didn’t care about his feelings, he only cared about yours. He wanted to make sure that you were enjoying yourself. You aided him in some areas, but the two of you were on a ride after a rocky start. Dick always asked how you were doing, if you wanted him to stop, go slower, or if you needed to break. He left sloppy kisses all over your body and had his hands wrapped around you like a young child with a bear. Dick didn’t let go of you once.

That night, the two of you held each other close as you chatted for hours on end. That was what you had looked forward to, not the sex. Sex was still a big piece in your marriage, but it wasn’t the most important. You looked forward to the long and mindless conversations the two of you had. Dick held you in his warm arms, toned and muscles from the workout’s he did year round. He would hold you close to his body as the two of you discussed life after the war.

It didn’t matter what the future held. If Dick was gone for one year, ten years, or forever. What mattered was the two of you had each other in your little moment of peace before all hell would break loose.

You and Dick had chatted the whole night away. The next thing you knew, you would go from the bedroom to the train station. It was a moment you dreaded, but it had to be done. Dick once again had a stoic expression. He kissed his mother, your mother, and sister, shook his father's and your father’s hand, and gave you a long sweet kiss on the lips. Dick struggled to pull away, but he knew it was for the best. Before climbing onto the train, he promised to write to you at every opportunity he got and tell you about Europe, the war, and anything he desired to tell you.

The next thing you knew, you were alone again.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes and walked up the stairs. Your mother asked if you were okay, to which you silently nodded your head. Your father had noticed your unusual silence. He had offered to take you shopping, thinking that money would make you happy. All you did was politely decline and retreat to your bedroom.

Your room was stuck in time. The sheets were all over the floor and Dick’s tall figure that had been imprinted on the left side of your bed. The dress your mother forced you to wear laid on the floor, along with your flats and pearls.

The sun shined through the curtains as you crawled onto the side where Dick had laid. You closed your eyes and sunk into his pillow, holding onto the disappearing scent of your husband.

On Top of the books, you had been reading were the perennials; lavender, daylilies, and stonecrops. You looked up from the pillow, your nose buried into the pillow and a blanket loosely covering your legs.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel that so alone anymore.

———

One year turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into four. You kept the calendar’s from over the years in your room, neatly stored under your bed. You found it funny how time flew by. You could remember the first day of walking in your classroom and the day you walked off the podium with your diploma. The pretty perennials that Dick had given you from what seemed like a decade ago had died. They were withered and derived of the bright colors they once had, hanging on the side of the blue and white ginger jar. The perennials reminded you of yourself. Once you had been a fiery young girl, and now you were an exhausted graduate student who was bound to become a widow.

Around the time you had found work at Lancaster, BBC announced that the war was over in Europe. That should have phased you and made you jump up with glee, but in all reality, it didn’t. The optimistic side you once had was long gone, turning into a pessimistic bitterness. The war was over in Europe, but not in The Pacific. Dick still wouldn’t be coming home, and you learned to accept that.

Sure, he had sent you letters in the beginning. Lots of them. He would talk about his adventures in training, his dreadful drill sergeant, his friend who was a “one of those city folk”, and so many more things. He expressed his boyish pride in being a patriot for his country. His little letters used to make your day. But as the leaves fell from the trees and the years passed, his letters would slow down. The last one you had received in January, written in December. It was short and sweet. The letter rested in your drawer. As the days passed on, a small part of you broke. You had been married for five years, yet you felt like you weren’t even married. No Dick kissing you, holding you in your arms, or comforting you in your darkest moments.

When the flowers had slowly withered, so did your hope.

But that all changed on a warm September day. Your mother had called you from your room, not specifying what was awaiting for you at the door. You grumbled and got up, taking off your glasses as you walked down the stairs, expecting to see another colleague trying to woo you.

You didn’t expect to see a tall man with a soft smile, strawberry hair, and a neat military uniform. Your husband-Dick Winters.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You dropped everything, running right into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he pulled you in close, his worked hands resting on your lower back and hair. He smelt amazing, and his uniform was soft. You missed his tender touch and soft words. It had been forever since you had seen him. In that moment, nothing mattered. No words needed to be spoken. In all honesty, you never wanted or needed pity from others. You just wanted someone-Dick-to be close. You thought of yourself as a coward, but all you wanted to feel was alright.

“Sweetheart, I missed you. I’m so sorry,” He apologized, stroking your embrace. His voice was stoic, as usual. It really was Dick. He was home and in your arms, at last.

“Don’t. Just stay. Please.” You softly cooed into his chest. No, you couldn’t let go now.

Dick let out a soft chuckle and stayed in the embrace. War was a strange beast. It stripped families of their children and caused mass discussion. Dick thought he wouldn’t come home and see his wife who had married the night before he was drafted. As the years had gone by, Dick began to regret his choice. What if he had left you a widow?

But that was the past. It was gone-nothing to waste tears on. In your extended embrace, the future didn’t matter, it wasn’t worth stressing. Dick and you lived in the present moment and made it beautiful.

-----------

Nothing had changed after Dick had come home. Life was still the same, except you weren’t as alone. Dick was still his stoic self. He was a doting husband. You expected him to struggle when he returned to civilian life. He wasn't used to homemade dinners and a bed much-the flashes of exploding limbs and artillery flashing through his eyes. Both you and Dick were independent. It wasn’t a bad thing. You could spend hours reading as he did a puzzle in another. On some days, the two of you would do activities together. You’d lay your head in his lap as he’d did his puzzle. On other days, Dick would be needier. Originally, he wasn’t vocal about it. It took you a while to catch onto it. He held your hand more in public, pulled you closer as you slept, and whenever he was in a mood-he’d come right to you and just give you a look. You knew the look all too well-and knew how to cure it. Dick would wrap his arms as you snuggled into his chest and talk about anything your minds came to. Sometimes you’d talk, but other times the two of you would close yours and fall asleep. Dick wouldn’t have any nightmares if held you close for comfort.

Without you, Dick didn’t know what he would do. How he could return to the simplicity of life.

Somehow, he returned. And every day he made sure to thank you for making him feel like a human and not a machine-whether that be through a gentle peck, a cuddle, or even a literal “thank you”. He loved you more than anything in the world.

----------

Shortly after Dick returned, the two of you moved out to New Jersey. His “city-boy” friend (his name was Lewis Nixon, but Dick called him Lew) had offered him a job at his parent’s nutrition company. So off the two of you drove from Lancaster to the suburbs of Haddonfield. Haddonfield and Lancester were virtually the same; small country bumpkin towns isolated from the big cities.

You and Dick had bought your first house (which was given by Nixon was a “late honeymoon gift). It was a small colonial house in a tiny suburb, pristine white with red doors. The decorations in the house were limited, a few photos of your and his family with elegant furniture gifted from your parents. It was a little big for your liking. It was a nice gift, but in Nixon’s words, it was for the “incoming armada of redheads”.

Babies. Children. Of your kin.

Dick had mentioned having children. When he was still adjusting, he’d hold you close as he talked about his plans for the future. Buy a farm in Pennsylvania, build his own business, and start a family of his own. He had told you that anywhere you would go, he would go. Anything you wanted, he wanted. He was about thirty two and you were close to turning twenty-five. It was expected at your age to have young children, but with no husband around and a job, it was difficult to settle down. You would gulp and smile, looking down as you held his hand.

Dick didn’t want to pressure you. He knew that were siginactiatly younger. Times were changing, you had a job and life of your own. He never wanted to interfere with it. When you would get insecure about not being the “ideal wife”, he’d reassure you that you were his wife and didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want. Dick wasn’t a man who put fear into others to get what he wanted. He was a patient and gentle soul.

You had tried a few times here and there. As much as you tried to enjoy something that was pleasurable, it was painful. You hid it from Dick, but Dick wasn’t an idiot. Dick wanted you to enjoy it. You could his mint eyes, hungry yet soft, as he laid on top of you, both of your hands restricted as you did the deed.

You weren’t making any noises, looking to the side. Something was wrong, you knew it. But you couldn’t break it to Dick. How would he react?

Dick catched onto his. He pulled himself together and pulled out. You looked at him and gave him a stubble style as he scooted closer to you, his breath heavy and gelled hair a mess.

“Hey,” You smiled awkwardly, clenching at the sheets.

Dick looked at you, a smile curving as his lips as his hand caressed your cheek. “How is my wife doing?”

It was a private nickname. He called you it after the war, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. Sometimes it was “my little wife”, which could be sweet or driven by lust. The little nickname made your heart skip a beat. You were proud to be his.

“Good. I’m tired,” You yawned as you held his hand close, playing with his big fingers.

Dick looked at your face as he admired your natural beauty, a pearly smile, your hair loose on the pillow, and your figure covered by a thin sheet. His hand moved from your cheek, your nape, and eventually your stomach. He drew slow, soft circles around your tummy.

“My little wife with our baby,” Dick remarked, his fingers dancing across your bare skin. Any girl would’ve fallen head over heels if a man had said that. You should have been happy, you wanted a family.

But how could you tell him?

There was a long silence between the two of you. All you did was look into his mint orbs, stroking his hair out of his face.

“I hope he, or she, looks like you. So they get their mother’s beauty.” Dick looked down at your stomach and planted a kiss.

You gulped, thinking of a response. A pretty white lie. “And there’s dad’s redhead and kindness. If you’re a little guy, I’ll tell you that it’s hard to find a man like your day.”

“And it’s hard to find a woman like your mother. She’s a firecracker,” Dick jabbed as he playfully ruffled his hair.

“Dick…” Your words were low as you held back a sob. You plastered a smile, it hurt to lie. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl. I don’t even know if I have a baby there…”

“Well…” Dick laid his head on your stomach, gently finessing the skin under your breast. “If It was a girl, what would her name be?”

You hated the feeling-naming a baby that wasn’t in your stomach. Dick believed that you were pregnant, or at least he believed you were. In response, you bit your lips-looking like you were deep in thought.

“Margaret,” You announced, “Molly for short. After my grandmother, in her memory.”

Dick tilted his head up and nodded, “For your grandma,” He planted another kiss and rested his head once again, “A boy?”

“Lewis? You like that fellow a lot.”

Dick shook his head, “No. I can’t look at him and our child the same way.”

You let out a chuckle before shaking your head. An image of a little baby flashed between your eyes. Mint eyes, dimples, and soft red hair. You wished it would occur.

“I can’t think of a name. You?”

Dick was silent for a minute as he laid on your stomach, your fingers entangled in his locks.

“Thomas. His name could be Thomas,” Dick proposed.

“Why is that?” You questioned.

Dick let out a sigh before crawling up to you, pulling you into his arms,“He was a C.O, to replace Sobel. I didn’t know him for long since his plane was hit. He’s listed as missing in action...but,” He froze on the words, unable to say it. You looked up at him Dick, who looked to the side with guilt tugging at his heart. You planted a kiss on his chin.

“He was twenty-two years old, just married. He sent a letter out to his wife to tell her that he was coming home. She still believes he’s out there, lost in some forest, finding his way home..” Dick looked down at you. Just like Meehan, he had been freshly married, sending out a letter. While Dick had kept his short and sweet (he didn’t want to promise anything), Meehan was too big for his britches. He didn’t show his fear, confidence in the face of adversity.

“Okay, Thomas it is. I like that name” You expressed.

Dick saw your face glow up, and so did his. He smiled, nodding along. “Thomas and Margaret,” He looked at your stomach once more, running his hand across your flat stomach. “I like that too.”

You nuzzled into his chest as he planted little kisses on the nape of your neck, holding you close for warmth. The two of you remained there, the only noise being your breathing.

Pulling your head back, Dick moved his hands down to your lower back to pull you up, closer to his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes, Dick?” You looked into his mint eyes, the candle in the room glittering in his orbs.

Dick held your cheek as he admired your face, “I love you, my little wife.”

You looked down before looking at your husband, moving slowly up to his face.

“And I love you two, my big husband.”

Maybe time stopped when Dick’s lips had met yours, but the flutter only intensified. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees went numb. You could only focus on how soft Dick felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all of your senses.

It wasn’t clear if you had dreamed this all, but the raw emotion in the way Dick’s fingers curled against yours. Dick kept his eyes open, sneaking a guilt peak every time you took a breath for air, just to make sure you weren’t a product of his imagination.

You weren’t sure if nature rooted for this moment, but it distracted you from everything. You just laid there with Dick, draped each other's arms as you sloppily kissed. Dick pulled you in once again, gently placing his lips onto yours until your knees had once again gone numb, overpowered by his. His other hand rested on your stomach as he murmured Margaret and Thomas, talking about how excellent of a mother you would be to your babies.

By the time you became aware of this, you froze, letting Dick kiss your body. You looked at the ceiling, hands in his hair as he decorated your skin.

It was like a car had run into you, throwing you down to the side-a rude awakening. As much as you denied it, it was creeping up on you.

There was no Thomas. There was no Magaret. There was never going to be a Thomas or Margaret.

Your stomach was flat, nothing moved. There was no life in your stomach ever. No matter how many times you tried, wished, prayed, there was only one conclusion.

There would never be a son or a daughter in your stomach-ever.

From that point on, life was slow. You woke up, gave Dick a kiss goodbye, worked from home, cooked dinner, read with Dick, fell asleep at an ungodly hour, and repeated the mundae routine everyday. With Dick being a general manager, he would work late hours. At some points, the only time you would see him is late at night when he’d crawl into bed giving you a kiss or early in the morning. Still, in his weary and stressed state, he’d always kiss your stomach every night and morning.

With your irregular cycles, constant negative tests, and pelvic pain becoming more evident in your marriage, you decided it was best to see your Doctor. As much as you didn’t want to know the possibility of what could be wrong, at least you would have an idea of what it was and how to make it better.

It turned out you couldn’t make your problem better. The doctor had a sympathetic look in your eyes as he listed off possibilities. You just sat there and looked at your stomach; your cold hands pressing against your stomach.

You were infertile.

There was never a Margaret growing in your stomach, nor was there a Thomas. There was nothing in your stomach.

How the hell were you going to tell your doting husband this?

---------

It was another Friday night in September. The leaves fell from the trees, the radio softly played in the back, it was peaceful in your little white house. Dick still hadn’t come home yet. You attempted to act like everything was normal as you put on a nice dress, pearls, and a fake pearly smile. It was all fine.

Nothing was fine.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the haunting abyss. This feeling of dread and tightness became background noise as if it were traffic on an unseen road. There were times where you could handle it, and times where you could not. This was a day where you couldn’t handle it. Each day passed, and the more you repressed it-it hurt. It hurt even more than it was supposed to.

You were faced with a dead-end, a terrifying one, with thoughts of temptation and contemplation. You felt even lost in your own home and marriage, feeling helpless and scared. This wasn’t supposed to happen. In the partial society you lived in, a woman’s identity revolved around the ability to convenience. As a girl, you laughed it off, saying you’d do what you’d please. But you were no longer a fiery girl, but a broken and bitter woman. Bitter at the world for forcing the idea that women were baby machines. You, as you typically did, pushed it away.

Stuffed it into a closet, but it was now pouring out. All the baggage that you had repressed was right in front of you. You never felt like you belonged in the parthricaral society you lived in with their white picket fences and predictable lifestyles. That didn’t mean you didn’t want a family of your own. You had a husband, a job, a house, everything seemed perfect. But one thing was missing-a baby.

The older you had gotten, the more it affected you. Going to those parties for Dick’s job and seeing all the wives with their babies and fumbling toddlers. You didn’t feel anything towards them at first, but they eventually grew on you. Dick’s first few days home contained long conversations about what your lives would be after the way. You would chat with him for hours about it to distract from the nightmares that flooded his mind, holding his hand.

“A nice little farm near Lancaster, one or two kids, my own business, and the most important thing...you ” Dick would say, his words full of love. “My wonderful little wife, Margaret, Thomas, and me, on our farm. We’ll have each other.”

The kettle boiled in the water, the loud noise screeching in the kitchen. You dropped the knife and heard it clack onto the ground. All you did was stand there with wide eyes and shaky legs, looking down at the ground as your nails dug into the counter.

You couldn’t bear him children-you tried and tried and tried but to no avail. If you were not Dick’s, then what were you?

---------

Dick had taken off his trench coat, sliding his shoes off as he neatly put them right next to yours. He let out a sigh as he loosened his tie. Work had been stressful once again. All he could think about was seeing you and his growing little babies. Of course, he never told anybody. But knowing the thought was between you and him made it special-something so personal and beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see your face and hold you close, talking for hours on end. Anything you said or did made him head over heels, just like it had done to you five years ago. You had been distant and not your usual self, and Dick was worried. He knew of the insecurities you had, feeling like you never had fit into a certain mold.

He had walked into the kitchen and instead of finding you, he found a dropped knife and kettle that was overflowing with boiling water. It looked like you had left in a hurry. He made sure to check all of the doors to see if you had left, in which you had no. In a calm manner, Dick cleaned up the kettle and put the knife back where it was. He wanted to help so you wouldn’t stress.

The pitter-patter of the shower coming from upstairs alerted Dick. He walked up the stairs and down the dark hallway, seeing the bathroom light creak from the bathroom. Creaking the door open, the all to familiar noise hit his ears. The bathroom was foggy as the shower ran. Looking down, Dick saw the water come to his feet, staining his wet socks. Your flats were spread on the ground along with your knit cardigan, soggy from the water. Inside of the shower was you, clothed with your makeup running, hugging your knees as you looked down.

Dick let out a soft sigh as he looked at you, his shoulder slouching down. It was paining him to see you in this state, “Oh honey..”

You didn’t move, only your eyes did. He walked towards you, into the shower. He wore a white suit and dress pants, which were now we're stuck to his skin. He put himself right next to you as the hot water warmed his cold skin. You adjusted yourself to lean on his wet shoulder. Dick said there as you leaned on him for comfort, listening to the white noise of the shower.

“I tried,” You mumbled as your fingers ran circles in his arm.

Dick looked down at you with his strawberry hair sticking to his forehead and drips of water rushing down his face. He frowned, tiping his head to the side.

“I tried and tried, time after time. I tried so hard and I…” You lamented, grasping onto Dick’s arm. It was hard to spit out the words. You had already said the first half of it, you needed to say more. “I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Dick questioned, his fingers lifting your chin. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your mascara coming down along with it. His thumb wiped away the incoming hot tears. He was too kind to you. His mere presence reassured you. “Don’t cry, my little wife. Let me help you. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I-”

“I can’t have children. Not now, or ever.” The words came out your mouth. It felt like you were spitting fire. It felt strange like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Even though it was gone, it still lingered. “I went to the doctor last week. I’m infertile, Dick.”

Dick just sat with a frown on his face. You couldn’t tell what was going through his head. His free arm had wrapped around your shoulder was slowly falling as he let go of your chin, making an “oh” noise.

You looked at him and let out a sob as your face fell into your hands. “I didn’t wanna tell you. I know you’ve wanted children, every man wants that for their wife. You want a son who looks like you, and a wife who can provide that for you. I can’t. I wanted it too, but I watched my dream break. I’m supposed to give you a baby like a normal wife should...” Through the sniffling and sobs, you refused to look at Dick. He seemed disappointed, but you could never tell what he was feeling. “If you want a wife who can give you a child, then, by all means, do so. I’m worthless.”

You could feel it. Your relationship was over. Maybe it was for the better. Dick could start his family, and you could work a job in Philadelphia. They did have an opening in Philadelphia. It was better to have nobody-so you couldn’t get hurt and hurt others around you.

“No,”

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you turned to Dick. You scooted back, not able to tell if he was upset at you. “No?”

“No. You’re not worthless, y/n.” Dick attested, “What would make you think such a thing?”

“We’ve always wanted a family down the line. You would kiss my stomach every night, talking to the...” You looked down at your flat stomach, your hand gently squeezing the skin. It broke your heart even more just feeling what Dick assumed was Margaret and Thomas. “Just didn’t want you to get mad at me. I know you're upset with me.”

“Don’t give me that malarkey,” He growled, crawled closer to you as he grabbed your cheeks with your foreheads nuzzling towards each other. You could feel the warmth on the top of your forehead, “I’m not upset. You didn’t have to hide this from me. I should’ve known, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Dick tenderly grabbed your shoulders and leaned you back on the white subway wall. He was gentle as he wiped the sticky hair from your face for a clearer view. He had a soft smile as he caressed your cheek with you leaning into it.

“But if I can’t give you children, what good use am I?”

“The reason I married you wasn’t that I wanted a family. At that moment, in that cornfield, I wanted you to be my wife. If I didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I would’ve died content with my life,” Dick complimented with a kiss to your wet hand. “You're not just a pawn used for children-my little wife. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean I won’t leave you. I wouldn’t even consider the thought. It’d be hard to find someone like you, y/n. Nobody as hardworking, beautiful, and fiery”

A chuckle escaped your lips, “Like a cornfield?”

“Like a cornfield,” He assured. “I don’t care about children, the past, the future, anything. I married you because I was in love with the beautiful, growing woman five years ago, and I still am. All I care about is my little wife, y/n-you. I love you.”

You nuzzled into his shoulder, “I..love you too, Dick.”

Silent communication was your and Dick’s form of romance. You didn’t need big gestures and materialistic gifts to feel comforted, sometimes you just needed someone right next to you, or in your arms. The silence was nice and the warmth was needed. Dick’s warmth felt like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. You wished that you could extend the night just so you could stay in his comforting embrace, relived in his hold. In his hold, you believed that there is nothing to fear, that there is all sunshine and love. Dick was the cure you needed, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky, he was the morningstar that you prayed wouldn’t disappear.

“I’ll make us dinner,” Dick said as he got up. “I’ll even run you a bath. Does that sound good, my little wife?”

Your fingers held the tip of his hands. Your (y/c/e)‘s met with his mint ones that shined in the pristine light. He gently helped you up with a hand resting on your waist.

Resting a hand on his chin, you looked down and shook your head. “I want to make dinner with you. I feel clean.”

“Are you sure?” Dick questioned, pulling you closer to his body. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Well I’m not tired. I haven’t felt like we’ve talked lately. You’ve been gone and I’ve been distant.” You confessed. The brutally honest was needed now. You tipped your head to look at Dick. “I wouldn’t mind a helping hand.”

“Fine, if you insist,” He placed his hand on your upper back and swept you off your fear. You let out a little chuckle as you snaked an arm around his shoulder for stability, “You said you needed a helping hand.”

Once you and Dick changed out of your wet clothes and into your matching silk robes (gifted by Lew, the man even had your initials engraved into the pocket), the two of you headed down to the kitchen to cook. The radio played in the back and the kettle silently brewed as you sautéed the chicken and Dick set the small table in the tiny dining space.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You looked behind you as you washed your hands of the greasy oils and spices.

“Did you grow up with dogs?”

You nodded as you dried your hands, “Two-a Westie and Cairn terrier. Your point?”

Dick came over the counter as he leaned on it with a smirk. It wasn’t condescending, but it looked like an idea had popped in his head. You loved it when he smirked or smiled; the dimples on his cheeks would show.

“I know you get lonely when I’m not around. Lew knows a lot of good breeders in the area. How do two dogs sound?”

You were lonely. Loneliness was a feeling you knew all too well. It haunted you as a child and adult. Except when you were a child, you thought it would disappear. But in truth, it did not.

“Two dogs sound nice, Dick,” You confessed. The kettle began to make a shrieking noise. Walking over, you grabbed two cups and poured hot water into them. The water from clear to a darkish brown. You let the bags settle for a few minutes before taking the two cups over and handing one to your strawberry blonde husband.

“There breed? Are we sure Lew won’t try and steal them?”

“Well, Lew wouldn’t steal them. He and Grace already have enough animals to take care of,” Dick put his two big hands around the mug. “Two terriers, a boy, and girl. Just like the ones you grew up with.”

“Ok,” You smiled, raising your eyebrows. “And their names?”

Dick took a sip of his tea before smacking his thin lips. “I was thinking of Margaret and Thomas. Do you like that?”

You finally knew the answer to why Dick was asking about getting dogs. Not that you were in protest. Dogs were like children-just easier to take care of.

“Yeah, I like that a lot.”

Dick put a hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeezed. He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

Within the week, Lew had come over with the cutest puppies you had ever seen. He had also brought over all of the necessary supplies for two puppies, and even two sweaters with their names. One was a feisty and quiet Westie named Thomas and the other was a sweetheart with a sour side named Margaret. You and Dick loved them more than anything in the world. They were fed Filet Mignon from the table, slept in between you and Dick, and always for what they wanted. Even Dick gave into their puppy eyes whenever they got into trouble. The reason he wanted dogs in the first place was for his little wife; y/n-you. Not only did he want to make you feel a little less lonely in your little colonial house, but protected. Dick wasn’t always there to look out for you, even though he knew you could handle yourself just fine. Still, it was the thought that counted. Knowing that you would have two little balls of energy to keep you entertained made Dick content, and so did you.

Lewis Nixon was right all along. He never saw you and Dick having children. In his wise words, dogs were “far superior” than children. Dogs didn’t cry as much, they weren’t as needy, and they didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night. Mostly.

You would see the way the dogs would interact with Dick, and how Dick would interact with them. He’d treat them like children. From rocking Margaret in his arms to having long conversations with Thomas about why he shouldn’t bite you his mother while you peacefully sleep, it made your heart skip a beat, seeing Dick be so gentle with the two puppies.

Every night before you would head to bed, Dick would always remind you that his dream had finally come true; buying the little patch of land in Lancaster for the farm was within reach. He’d give you a kiss and pull you close as the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

You broke away from the terrifying cliff that you had looked down, heading towards your morning star, Dick, with hope that it wouldn’t disappear.

#dick winters x reader #richard winters x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #richard winters imagine #my writing #oh gosh this is painful #also listen to wife by mitski #y'know if u wanna even cry harder #all aborad the angst train #*sad choo choo*

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jeanandthedreamofhorses · 4 years ago

Text

Of Gods, Monsters, and Men

“Man is by nature a social animal [...] Anyone who either cannot lead the common life or is so self-sufficient as not to need to, and therefore does not partake of society, is either a beast or a god.” - Aristotle

This diagram will make sense, I swear.

Part 1 - Humans, Gods, and Beasts

Aristotle’s tripartite system is profoundly embedded in the world of SNK.

Humans, the social animals, are the ordinary people who do not seek to make an individual mark on history, but instead live communal existences as cogs in a machine. The most important thing to them is usually the well-being of themselves and their loved ones.

They are considered weak as they do not struggle against the flow, but these very attributes are what make them human.

The vast majority of the human race fit into Aristotle’s definition of ‘social animals’, as that is the only way in which society can function. The existence of those ordinary humans, then, is worth preserving.

Those who are not social animals, but rather lead highly individual existences with the power to leave their own unique mark on the world, are Gods when viewed positively and Beasts when viewed negatively. Because they go against the flow and disrupt the status quo, they are demonised by those happy with that status quo and lionised by those who are not. In either scenario, they stand out from the crowd.

Gods are considered to be strong and special.

The apex of this specialness is symbolised in the series through its pseudo-Gods, like Ymir Fritz, and those with godlike powers like the Ackermans and titan shifters, especially Zeke and Eren.

The entirety of the Eldian race, by virtue of the power to turn into titans, can also be considered special and so are lionised as gods by the Eldian nationalists.

However, they are considered Beasts by the rest of the world because of that same uniqueness. The apex of beastliness in the series is in the titans themselves, the ultimate ‘Other’. Nothing can be as estranged from the human social community as they are, as uniquely disgusting, uniquely powerful creatures.

With this tripartite system established, however, the series deliberately complicates all three of its boundaries. To begin with, let us examine the disintegration of the boundary between Beasts and Gods.

Part 2 - The ‘Other’

Beasts and Gods are ultimately the same thing - they are an ‘Other’, defined by their lack of dependence on their community and, consequently, their status outside of it. This separate status makes them an unsocial animal, and therefore, not human. Whether this inhumanity is a good thing or a bad thing - godly or beastly - is only a matter of perspective.

There is no better proof of this than the personage of Eren Jaeger.

From the start, Eren has had no desire to be a ‘social animal’. He never catered to the opinion of the populace, and held them in outright contempt.

He wanted to accomplish everything on his own, without relying on others.

He stuck to his dream of joining the Survey Corps no matter what anyone said, and won people round to his views instead of struggling to fit theirs.

Acting this way gained Eren a reputation as either a total idiot, as in Jean’s eyes, or as an example to be followed, as Connie, Sasha and the others saw him. When Eren’s titan power was unveiled, this dichotomy escalated: where Erwin saw humanity’s greatest hope, the Military Police saw an enormous threat to peace inside the walls.

He is seen as a beast or a god, but even before his titan powers were revealed, he would never let himself be considered a nobody. The values he nurtured - independence and the strength to go against the present flow - were part of his desire to become inhuman.

It is therefore thematically appropriate that someone so fixated on the inhuman should become a titan. In his efforts to become a god, he becomes the beast he sought to vanquish. For they are one and the same - and this goes for the titans, too. Their status as an Other, not merely as a beast, is what makes them the natural enemy of humanity.

Moral doctrines that try to sort beasts from gods and drive a hard wedge between them only serve to obscure the truth.

The Church of the Walls is the best example of this exercise in futility. It reviles the titans as beasts and worships the Walls as gods for protecting them against such beasts - but the Walls themselves are titans too. The distinction between beasts and gods is thereby revealed as nothing more than a sham by the authors of public morality to keep the public in line. Indeed, how often is it the case that the devil of the new religion is the god of the old?

Like the Church of the Walls, both those who respect and revile Eren in the Final Arc observe the same truth about him in different lights: he is an Other. And they fight to the death to decide what kind of Other - a god, or a devil:

A murderer, or a messiah:

Gentle, or savage:

The fandom is no less divided over him than the characters are, each side assured of their rightness. He is either an incorrigible child or an enlightened superhuman, the most free or the most enslaved, unchanged or the most changed of all, a pit to be avoid or a height to which we might aspire. Eren is the circle that completes itself, both the best and the worst, a beast and a god. But whatever he is, he is nothing in between, nothing mediocre. He occupies extremes alone: that is what makes him special.

Eren is fundamental proof of the failure of our value systems. He is a thought experiment who manages to sit at both ends of the spectrum while neglecting the middle altogether. At this point, we may return to our diagram.

A horseshoe works much better than a straight line for our purposes. Eren sits between god and beast, good and evil, special and titan, but a world away from the multitude of humans at the centre of the horseshoe.

However, he was not always this way. His compulsion to move away from the herd is the same as ever, and that is likely what he means when he tells people he has never changed: but there was once a time when for all his efforts, he could not quite escape being a social animal.

The significance of this fact is monumental. Eren proves that the special and the human are not distinguished from birth, but that there is in fact a pathway between them. This leads us to our third part: the disintegration of the boundary between the Human and the Other.

Part 3 - The Philosopher

Like love, specialness is something you find when you’re not looking for it. Eren’s journey towards the special first began with his acceptance of his own normality.

Beforehand, behind his play at independence he longed for recognition and approval from others.

He was tired of never being taken seriously - by his neighbourhood bullies, by Mikasa, by Jean. They all dismissed him as either crazy or weak and in need of protection. He was so prone to flying out in a rage at this because they touched on his greatest insecurities - that he was really a nobody after all, and that he’d never amount to anything.

In this regard Eren had a great deal in common with Keith, who wanted above all else to prove that he was better than the rest and worthy of being admired.

This was why Keith’s story had such a big impact on Eren, and why it was placed at the end of the arc where he learns to accept being only human. One cannot become special for the sake of the approval of others. So long as you have that objective in mind, you will never be anything more than a social animal and therefore human.

It was only once Keith abandoned any hopes of being seen as special that he actually became so, when he committed the ultimate sacrifice away from the eyes of anyone living. He acted with his own conviction in his heart, and not the approval of anyone else.

So he can finally receive the title of hero - one he clearly did not expect to hear. And it is a compliment he extends to Magath, no longer feeling the need to raise himself above anyone else.

In Eren’s case, he first learned the true virtue of self-sufficiency in the crystal cave, where he saved his friends’ lives by choosing to trust in his judgement and power over everyone else’s.

Eren is shocked after his success, and the lesson does not fully sink in at first. But such sentiments as the one below...

...quickly evaporate in Eren’s next moral trial, the Serumbowl. He can no longer accept peaceful co-existence between people with different beliefs because their decisions directly threaten the lives of the people he loves. This is the moment he redirects his focus to the protection of his and his own, and in doing so renounces his care for the wider world. The revelation that he will crush that outside world into ashes reinforces his belief in this conviction as the only solution.

Thereon out, Eren embraces self-sufficiency. He chooses not to trust in his comrades and builds his power to the point that he no longer needs to take orders from anyone else. Any help he does employ - from the SC or from Zeke and his followers - is achieved through manipulation, where he is firmly in control.

He becomes self-sufficient to the extent that he even moulds the conditions of his own upbringing. It cannot be said that he is a social animal any longer. His independence allows him to surpass his humanity and become both beast and god - walking on heavenly planes in the one moment and rampaging as a skeletal monstrosity the next.

Eren passes from ordinary into special through his self-sufficiency and self-orientation. This rigid self-discipline, this self-transformation, is a practice which we might call - philosophy.

Eren?

A philosopher???

Yet this is the only way a human might become a beast or god. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, whose works synchronise beautifully with SNK, added one crucial modification to Aristotle’s equation:

“To live alone one must be a beast or a god, says Aristotle. Leaving out the third case: one must be both - a philosopher.”

And when one really thinks about it, is the idea of Eren as philosopher so ridiculous? Summarising a philosopher as ‘one who seeks the truth’ - who has accessed more of the truth of the world than Eren? The Attack and Founding Titans give him access to literal worlds of understanding beyond the scope of any other. And although Eren is dense at the start, he grows increasingly introverted and soul-searching as the series progresses. I think it is by no means a stretch to claim that Eren has come into his own jaded sort of wisdom.

Furthermore, Eren’s restless striving for freedom, his ‘Will to Power’ in Nietzsche’s words, is so powerful that he became stronger than Mikasa could ever hope to be and hatched a plan that even Armin couldn’t predict. It is his force of will that has always allowed Eren to overcome his weaknesses. So too psychologically - his wanderlust has taken him beyond the pale of morality and so made him the series’ only real philosopher in Nietzsche’s sense of the word, as a creator of new values.

It is the drive for freedom, then, that can turn a human into a philosopher and by that means become special. The divide is that simple, that fragile. And so the monstrous Other is simply human: all too human.

Eren’s words to Ymir Fritz are the definitive illustration of this theme. Ymir, who possesses the heights of power as a pseudo-divinity, who lacks a shred of power as a slave, manages to still be human. What unites all three aspects, what allows them to co-exist, is that freedom to choose. The drive for freedom that turned Eren philosopher is what allows humans to roam into the territory of beasts and gods.

So, rather than a horseshoe, this process is best represented as a fishhook, where a pathway exists between the opposite ends of Human and Other. Through philosophy, through the discarding and creation of values, through the drive for freedom and the Will to Power, this gap can be bridged.

It is at this point we come back to the words of Eren Kruger, and consider the full weight of their meaning:

Whether an Other is a god or a beast is merely a matter of perspective - but so is the ability to become an Other in the first place. The titans of history, its movers and shakers, were not a species above and beyond. They were anyone, as human as you and me, only ones who embraced their freedom and made a courageous choice.

This is the purpose of the titans being revealed as humans. This is the purpose of the whole concept of titan shifting, where even such social animals as Reiner and Annie are elevated to the level of the special. This is the reason why mere humans are able to successfully combat the titan Others through their own skill and ingenuity. This is why our heroes possess such manifold weaknesses and flaws, to remind us that even people as average as Eren, as scrawny as Armin, and as cowardly as Jean were able to become special by choosing the Survey Corps - that is to say, by choosing freedom.

The world we inhabit is a sordid one. It’s sickening seeing the levels of cowardice people exhibit in all aspects of their lives. “I would help you, but...I would stand up to them, but...I would do something about it, but...” etc, etc, and people make excuses to run away from their problems every time. It’s enough to hate the world and everyone in it.

The message SNK delivers is able to restore this dwindling faith. Because no matter how disgusting human behaviour can be sometimes, in others and in ourselves, within every single human is the potential to become as beautiful as the characters we admire - to become someone special. A little bit of courage is all it takes.

That, to me, is what makes humanity worth something. Because it is through that metamorphosis into the special that we fulfil our function as human beings: creatures which have the choice to remain within their humanity or transcend it. Just possessing that potential is enough to make humanity a gorgeous species - and so, before accomplishing anything, Carla could value Eren simply for being born into this world. He doesn’t have to be better than anyone else, because it is a power we all possess.

This human potential to become both god and beast is what prevents the world from boring us to death. The beasts make it cruel, and the gods make it beautiful. And with gods and beasts being one and the same, there can be no world that is beautiful without cruelty, or cruel without beauty.

#shingeki no kyojin #snk meta #eren jaeger #eren yeager #friedrich nietzsche #aristotle #keith shadis #carla jaeger #reiner braun #annie leonhart #eren kruger

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sumeshi-t · 4 years ago

Text

[Kiseki no Angst]

akashi seijuro x reader

wordcount: 5k+

tw: cheating, mentions of depression, death :(

"i don't hate you. i'm just disappointed you turned into everything you said you'd never be."

people used to look down on you, never really noticing that you were someone worth respecting. it wasn't your fault, but your surname's fault. you always knew that being born into that family was the biggest mistake. nevertheless, you worked hard not because you wanted to be noticed, but just to tell them that you weren't a piece of trash anyone can just trample on.

despite the insults aimed your way, you maintained your cool. you didn't stoop down to their level because, hey, they didn't know who you really are. that you were someone more than “just what your surname is”, that what it was doesn't really define you.

you were one of those students who aced in tests, and got high enough remarks in every subject.

you were also someone who, in the field of sports, is actually considered good. but you also had your own flaws–one of them being your laziness. you were too lazy to focus on one sport and decided that as long as you don't get a failing mark because of that subject, then you're fine.

friends? you rarely had them, because most of the people who approach you were just looking for your weaknesses, so they can have something to gossip about the next day. so, you usually just sat alone and ate in silence, watching everyone from a certain point in the room.

there was this very outstanding student, and his name was akashi seijuro. he was someone close to perfection–intelligent, sporty, and quite good looking. yeah, he was your classmate but there was hardly any conversation made between you two. due to your constant observations, it was pretty damn obvious that a portion of the female students had a not-so-secret admiration for that guy.

you wondered if anyone was brave enough to confess their feelings, but seeing as how his eyes weren't interested in that aspect of life, his stare could either make a girl combust on the spot or make them bury their body alive. you had a hunch that confessions were rare to happen.

also, since he's too smart, you figured that he could somehow, sense it in a person. akashi seijuro, for you, was peculiar and indeed, someone to look up to. he was something akin to an inspiration, without the need to be interested in him in any romantic way.

you still wonder how on earth he noticed you, as you were playing chess–alone–just a few meters before the gym's entrance, in some lounge in school. that time, news about rakuzan's loss to seirin were being spread around and duh, since you were in the losing school, it was the hottest topic.

usually, people would just glance then whisper amongst themselves upon seeing you. who wouldn't? when they see someone having a fierce battle with their self.

but he was the first, in a long time:

akashi moved a piece on the board and muttered, "checkmate."

you had a scowl on your face from analyzing too much and it was still evident when you looked up at him. your eyes met his, and though you've heard that if you did, he'll “gouge” them out, you were still, just a tad bit frustrated at his interruption. really though, it was the first time you looked straight into his eyes, and you knew well to listen.

but contradicting what your brain had always reminded you, akashi didn't flinch or scowl, and you just couldn't read his expression.

"i didn't mean to bother you, kaname."

akashi just came from practice and you realized, it was about time for students to go home. then it took your brain seconds to register the way he called you using that last name.

you nodded, then proceeded to packing your stuff, turning your attention away from him. you thought he'd leave already, but he was just standing there and was watching you.

not to be rude, you stopped for a while, holding a white queen and a black king in one hand as you looked at him again. "akashi-kun, is there something wrong?"

"why do you prefer isolating yourself from everyone?" the red-haired and red-eyed guy suddenly asked, catching you off-guard. you smiled, not really reaching your eyes, and answered as you continue to pile the pieces back inside their place.

"because they don't like my name. and it's also for them to have a topic to talk about, every once in a while. i pity them," you trailed off.

"but ‘y/n' isn't that bad for a name, don't you think?"

his words made you freeze, a small gasp escaping your lips, which were soon trembling as you tried to hold in tears. “what's… it to you, then? i mean, you barely even talk to me in class, get it?"

this was very sudden, you thought. you described it as awkward, weird; and a lot more words your brain's dictionary could give you. or at least it could provide you. the akashi you've come to know was a bit more hostile than this.

but he smiled.

akashi seijuro smiled at you. it wasn't fake, it wasn't something you daydreamed. it was genuine. the warmth you felt from it, was far from fantasy.

"it's just a heads up for you, that there are some people who won't judge you because of a surname," he paused, waiting for you to react. when you didn't, he continued. "just continue being you, y/n."

"…why are you being like this all of a sudden?"

"you're interesting, and you have potential to do great things. don't let their judgments get in your way."

it honestly just started from that day. that was the first unforgettable moment you shared with the emperor.

you really didn't expect that he'd end up sharing his surname with yours, in the end.

and now, as you wore an elegant and expensive white gown, you knew there were more moments you can look forward to. and you knew, that you were you, he was who he was, and that the two of you were special in your own ways. you honestly thought his father would get in the way of your relationship, but it seems like the odds were in your favor.

your rings were wrapped around your fingers, and a kiss to seal and lock you two together for the rest of your lives.

akashi was a very loyal man. he was sweet, have tendencies to spoil you, despite his busy schedules. you were fine with it, after all, you were there behind him and supporting him.

akashi was also quite a loving husband; he lives up to his title,"the emperor" both on the court, and, although not really surprising, this was the case when it came to your bedroom activities.

still, there was something about him, that your guts have been meaning to tell you, that there was something wrong. or something you didn't know or understand yet. maybe it was his eyes, but really, you just end up drowning in them. so you killed off the doubt screaming at the back of your head.

you were faithful, and you both love each other so much that that love gave fruit to an addition to the akashi family lineage. a boy whose features were a perfect combination of yours and your husband's. for that reason, your child's name had sounded so similar to akashi's.

akashi seiji.

he wanted it so, because you wouldn’t agree to “seijuro jr”. somehow that was childish of the red-haired man (and of you) but it was cute, you figured. even though you two were married, he still rarely showed his, somewhat, other sides.

and there goes that feeling again… doubt? suspicion? you couldn't even find a word to name it.

years have gone by, and before you knew it, you were celebrating seiji's fourth birthday, complete with all of your husband's business friends, and his middle school basketball team, the 'generation of miracles'.

your lives were going too happy, too well, too perfect. just like a fairytale. you began to believe that until one night. things began to take a different turn, perhaps going in the wrong direction.

you came home from work—you had insisted that you won't be a housewife, and you didn't have any interest in the akashi business—and was surprised to see your husband there, doing his paperwork in your room, with seiji on the bed, solving mathematical equations that weren't really for his mere age of six.

your son jumped out of bed and ran to hug you as soon as you came in, his arms wrapping around your waist as he did so. yeah, he was a mother's boy indeed.

and he went on about his day; seiji was getting better at playing the piano, and was also starting to learn basketball. his eyes that had the same shade of color as yours, darted over to sneak at his father, and whispered. "mother… i think father should teach me instead of any other coach. because he is the greatest!" he giggled.

akashi sighed, hearing him clearly, then turned around to face you both with his eyes closed. you expected him to at least smile at your son and his eagerness, but he had this unreadable look on his face. eyes closed, his brows sunk in deeper. this was the usual face he makes when he used to crush his opponents in basketball, the face he makes when a secretary just fails at their assigned task.

it was… terrifying.

"shut. it."

your eyes widened a bit, but seeing how your son reacted, broke your heart more. so you forced a smile, bent down and gave your son's chubby cheek a peck. "come on, ji-kun. it's way past your bedtime. say good night to your father." he did as he was told, bowing before akashi before you led him outside, back to his own room and waited for him to fall asleep.

it was around 9:45 in the evening when you came back to your room and saw your husband on the bed now, reading a book. you quickly went to the bathroom to freshen up before crawling into bed next to him. you leaned your head, placing it on his right shoulder and took his scent in.

"sei? is everything alright?" when you felt that the timing was right, you asked him. with a soft thud, the book was closed and he placed it on the bedside table near him, making you lean on the headboard instead.

"everything is as it should be, y/n." he faced you with a blank look, and it was the first time you noticed that his eyes were now different. again. his golden yellow eye had returned, and looking at him made you feel uneasy.

"and why are you looking at me that way?"

"n-nothing, dear… maybe i'm just tired."

"then sleep, rest. good night, y/n. by the way, try to avoid making too much eye contact with me." he turned around, and slept with his back facing you. you were… shocked; no, that was an understatement. you were hurt. what had happened, you wondered. you tried to think back everything that has happened between you two, if you've said or done anything to trigger this certain side of your husband.

when he was deep in his sleep, you placed an arm over his body and let the darkness your eyelids can give, take over you.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➴➵➶➴➵➶

there was one thing that was constant in this world.

change.

things change. people change. as time passes by. some were for good, for the better.

but the way your husband changed, it wasn't exactly good, no, not at all.

it started out with text messages from women's names you didn't know. and akashi totally didn't care nor bothered if you saw the notifications popping up on his phone.

and in the end, unwelcome women came in every night, sometimes with your husband or the girl was fetched by limo. you were usually late to arrive home since your workplace was much farther than his.

you weren't deaf, dumb, nor blind. you also weren't strong enough to handle this. it hurt to know and be slapped in the face by the reality that you have no power to stop him even if you tried. if it wasn't for your son's presence, you might've snapped. every night you'd sleep in your son's bed, trying your best to just cry it all out once he's gone to sleep.

once he asked why you weren't sleeping with akashi. you only smiled, feeling a lump form in your throat. "well, your father is very busy with work and he doesn't like being disturbed."

that was also the same night you decided to sit right outside your bedroom doors for a few minutes, hearing every single noise completely, and all you could do was to let your tears fall down in streams on your face, sobbing quietly.

you began questioning your worth; this was worse than when you were younger. you much prefer the hushed whispers and gossiping that surrounded you than the way your husband was destroying your pride and your love.

weeks, months, and then it has been a year since akashi has been taking women—mistresses—home for his own sexual desires. for a year, you remained strong, well, as strong as you could and as you would like to believe yourself to be.

and then it was seiji's seventh birthday.

for a day, you were suddenly his 'beloved wife' once more. akashi gave you stolen kisses on your forehead, your cheek and an arm was always either on your waist or around your shoulders.

you excused yourself when it was time to eat, and a certain pink-haired lady followed you to the restroom. "y/n-chan?"

you blinked back the forming tears in your eyes and forced yourself to smile, however you weren't able to fool momoi satsuki. "is akashi-kun… okay?"

you looked anywhere except your friend's concerned eyes. biting your lower lip to prevent from breaking down in front of her, you nodded stiffly.

silence shared between you two until she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"he isn't the real akashi, is he?"

then the restroom doors suddenly burst open, and entered a busty woman with layered auburn hair, wearing a tight dress that reached just above her knees, hugging her body completely, and six inch stilettos that matched her clothing.

her icy blue eyes were familiar to you and then you remembered her as one of the women akashi has taken in.

"oh! mrs. akashi, hello. nice to meet you. you're looking splendid!" she reached for your hand and shook it. "i haven't introduced myself, i'm aya, akiyama aya, one of the new board directors." you put on the best fake smile you could and with a pleasant—yet slightly higher tone of voice—you conversed with the bitch—mistress.

when aya had left, momoi decided to hug you, as if she saw through everything just because of what happened between you and the lady.

"m-momoi… i just… don't know what happened… why things had to be this way, it's so hard for me to be living under the same roof as his."

you let a few tears go, then quickly wiped them off as you pulled away from momoi's caring hug. "please, don't tell anyone about this. i have my son to keep me going, and i'll be stronger. thank you so much."

"b-but, y/n-chan!"

you shushed her, bringing your index finger to your lips. "let's go, they're probably having dessert by now. you should really try it." and you led her out, squeezing her right shoulder lightly as a final way of thanking her.

you watched your son enjoy his special day, as his father sat next to you, running his thumb over your palm he was holding. something about what momoi said had your pulse racing, even if you two were silent. gulping down your fears, you asked him. "who are you?"

his thumb lingered over your skin before he removed his hand from yours. he smiled, and you didn't know if he was laughing at you, mocking you for such a stupid question or was forcing it out of his system for show.

"i'm akashi seijuro, your husband, who else would i be?"

your son suddenly raced towards you. his eyes were intent on his father's, and you swore you saw akashi's eyebrows twitch for a fraction of a second. "father, my friends and i have decided to go horseback riding. may i take yukimura with me?"

akashi motioned for his hand as a go signal, and seiji bowed before running off with a butler to where the horses were kept. and then when they were far away from you two, you resumed your low-volume conversation with the red-haired man.

"do you love me?"

"yes, i do."

"no, do you—you, right now—do you, love me?"

and then he was silent. his face looked troubled, as if akashi was having a war with his own self, with his own mind.

"that's what i thought…" you murmured, and stood up, suddenly feeling numb. you went to follow your son and took pictures of him, innocence and happiness radiating off of him. seiji was your last pillar of strength, and if you can't hold on any longer, you'll have to take him with you.

'that gives me an idea…' you thought.

but as a faithful wife, you still had to think. what if akashi returns to his real state?

two weeks later, seiji made a mistake with the notes of the piano piece he was playing. akashi was there, listening, while you had been busying yourself with crochet; and he made his son stop. the look he gave seiji was a look you'd like to describe as one would use when abandoning or when giving up on someone.

"why can't you be a little bit more like me?" he sighed, patting seiji lightly on his head before leaving, his eyes darting towards you, as you can see from your peripheral vision.

akashi disappeared, probably off to find aya or another woman he kept.

that was the last draw. you were fine if you were being the one trampled on—most of your life, you went through that—but if your son gets affected, oh, things were to change for real.

you hated this change. why did things have to change?

it was funny how you just felt your anger now. determined, you helped your son perfect the piece before letting him have his snacks, leaving you alone with your thoughts. playing a different piece, one you once enjoyed playing with akashi, your eyes were closed since you've mastered every note by heart.

you cried one last time, then made a decision. if akashi couldn't stand your presence, how much more that you couldn't stand those filthy women. it was also for the sake of the child. this was for the better. you loved akashi and you always will, but… things are different.

he is different.

through your own sources, and with the help of your mother, you were able to find a house of your own. you hadn't really told her the complete story, nor do you want to, and you didn't want her to get involved. you're not going to take revenge, of course. you're just going to keep your distance until the real akashi decides to come back... you hoped.

you can just make him—the akashi right now—to love you. but… you're far too hurt and exhausted already. you honestly tried. it was too late, you figured.

he didn't… care.

you know there's a chance you'll also get hurt physically if a confrontation was done. plus, your son, you didn't want him to have to go through that. he was just seven!

tonight you'll set things right, or maybe a bit better. sort of. you were just tired. and couldn't endure anymore. you were but a human after all, and this was your limit.

in just five days, you and your son would stay in the house—bought with your own money—that would be ready once you arrive.

"y/n." akashi's stern voice startled you. for the first time, he was 'available' tonight, which happened to be the last night you were going to see him this close, the last night you were going to hear his voice, his breathing. this was the last night you were going to live under the same roof, where you promised to love him with every passing day; yet the same place he broke his oath to you.

"seijuro." you replied. you met his eyes and tried to look deep into them, trying to find the man you married. you know it's him, he's there, but somehow he just won't come out.

"you bought a house under your name," he began and that wasn't a question. you nodded, not a single emotion slipping from your face. you tried to remain as blank as you could. "yes, and i used my own resources to acquire it, don't worry."

'this house was supposed to be for you, me, our child. and i was supposed to be the only woman to share this bed with you. but if there are too many others, then i guess i'll take my leave.' you wanted to say more, but he just stared at you.

he was trying to read you.

but no, no he won't. he wouldn't understand. because he didn't know you.

"…sei," you took a breath and he turned to face you once more. and you pushed yourself forward and gave him a kiss, and you closed your eyes.

god, you missed his lips. you probably imagined it that his hand tugged on your hair while the other caressed your cheek, down to your shoulders then arms. when you pulled away, it was for real. his upper body was nearly on top of you already, and your eyes widened a bit.

you shied your body away from his, and he probably got the message that nothing would happen between you two tonight.

"…good night, sei." you murmured and turned the opposite side. you felt no movement from his side for a few seconds, nearly a minute or so, until the sheets were pulled and the lights dimmed.

you only took a nap, waking up at around two in the morning. everything was ready. you had your son up and in your car already with the help of his maid. she was eager to help you, and she'll go with you.

with one last glance at your husband, you left a note and placed a clear, glass queen chess piece on top of it.

then, you were gone.

that morning, akashi woke up to an empty bed and saw your note. the first words he saw made him grip on the paper, crumpling its edges a bit.

‘sei.

don't misunderstand this, please. i don't hate you. i'm just disappointed you turned into everything you said you'd never be.’

you had left him the address of your house nonetheless, even if you knew full well that he can just get someone to find it for him but you weren't going to be selfish and keep your child to yourself. it's just… living in two different houses 'cause apparently, one wasn't enough, no matter how big it was.

‘…in case you'd want to visit your son; please do. i hope you find happiness, akashi seijuro. not just you, but also the real akashi seijuro.’

you wrote your name on the bottom right side of the paper, concluding the letter.

oddly, akashi didn't burn the letter or anything like that and instead, threw it inside one of his drawers, including the chess piece. he thought you couldn't stand living away from him, and even if he doesn't want to admit it, he was waiting for you.

the same way you were waiting for him to just come to you as his real self.

the last time you met him was during your child's ninth birthday. you were the one organizing the parties, not him, and you even had to invite him. akashi still had his pride with him, and you expected that. you also expected that he still came home with different women every other night, but he didn't tell you that he'd stopped.

the akashi household… was quiet. too quiet.

two years passed. no child-like voice laughing, no happy piano tunes, no you; it was dull, it was nearly lifeless. it was too late when akashi realized that. you sometimes text him, reminding him of work-related stuff, and that he should be taking care of his self. sometimes leaving subtle hints for him to visit for seiji's sake.

he didn't want you to know that he was missing you. and he wanted it to hear from you that you missed him, but you felt, after two full years of waiting, that you were the only one wanting to continue on with this marriage.

again, for seiji, you decided not to divorce him. it had been in your head for a while. since he is a male akashi, they might snatch your child, the only heir, your only treasure and sanctuary; and force you to live the rest of your days alone. you couldn't take that.

so instead, with the strength left within you, you continued to raise your son, despite feeling down at how helpless you seemed to see yourself.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➴➵➶➴➵➶

akashi seijuro felt empty, and thinking about it, he finally let his pride go off for a bit. this year, his son was turning 10, and during his time, at that age, his father was already preparing him for business-related duties.

yes, that would be a perfect excuse to finally visit his wife and child.

reaching for one of the drawers, akashi grabbed the note and the chess piece. he cursed his self for losing and giving his wife a chance. plus, it had been months since you last contacted him and he wanted to know why. it wasn't like you to just cut him off like that. it has been far too long to be considered as the woman being busy with work.

akashi drove his way using his own car, not a limo, to where his wife and son both lived. he had hoped that they didn't move without her telling him about it. but then, it would've been easy to track them down.

the house was a bit big for just the two of them, he mused upon laying his eyes on a pearly-white, simple, yet elegant house. he went out of the car after turning the engine off, outside black iron gates.

akashi rang the doorbell, and he waited, the glass chess piece in his pocket. after around two minutes, a boy could be seen running to the gate, carrying a basketball with him.

"he's… grown… a lot." the father of the child murmured. since they lived separately, seiji exclaimed in happiness at the sight of his father. he opened the gates for the elder akashi to enter and gave him a big, warm hug.

akashi's heart began to throb, and he returned his son's hug, going down on one knee to hug seiji tighter. he half expected for his wife to be there, running to the sight of this reunion with tears brimming her eyes.

but there was no one.

but, it can't be that she left her child—their child—all alone?

"seiji, where is your mother?" akashi asked upon pulling his son away gently to look at him. the kid looked down, scratched the back of his head and sighed. the young akashi's actions reminded him so much of his wife. "well... you see, she's been away for a while now. and i don't know when she'll be back."

just then, a maid was rushing to the two red-haired males, followed by an elderly woman akashi could recognize even from afar.

it was her mother. his mother-in-law.

the male head of the kaname household has long passed, and the rest of their family have families of their own.

well, maybe except for y/n. her family's status has become quite complicated; and akashi finally admitted to his self, it was his fault.

"seijuro-kun? well, it took you a long while," mrs. kaname said spitefully, with as much venom as her voice could get. akashi knew not to mess nor look down at this woman whose hair was now graying, lines of age evident on her face.

akashi bowed in greeting, "i apologize, mother."

"enough," she paused, motioning for the maid to get seiji out of the elder akashi's reach, and to lead the child back inside to play.

he could only watch, though he was quite confused of this sudden action. "follow me." mrs. kaname ordered, and they both arrived at a veranda, overlooking the backyard where his son was playing basketball.

he let the elderly woman sit first, before him, and when it was not that awkward, akashi began to speak. "is… she home?"

"what if i told you, that she's not? that she's now happy in another man's arms?"

akashi clenched his jaw at the thought of y/n, her refreshing laugh and calming smile, the touch of her soft lips on another man's; how did he put it, he was mad, he was jealous, he… was hurt.

mrs. kaname looked at him skeptically, and could see through his efforts of hiding his feelings.

"though that's not exactly the way she felt when you did that to her, at least, you've had a fair share of your own medicine."

then it struck the emperor. he remained silent, still, and his wife's mother continued.

"if she were here, she would've gotten mad at me for doing that to you."

akashi and mrs. kaname's eyes met.

"however, she's not going to be around to do that anymore."

the redhead saw the pain, the held back tears of the elderly woman.

what? what did she just say?

"mother…? i'm sorry, but… what?"

mrs. kaname took a deep breath, then smiled a sad smile as she explained.

"she ‘s gone; you don't know how much it hurt to just watch her suffer, waiting for you all this time! she wanted to just end everything, but seiji was her only thread of hope. but still… in the end she,"

"…couldn't hold on and wait much longer."

akashi was having a hard time to process all that in an instant. however, he felt his hand reach for the chess piece he hid in his pocket. and he gripped on it, hard, as if letting go of it would have made him lose his grip on life.

he was too deep into his thoughts that he didn't notice mrs. kaname stand up, and retrieve something from inside the house. a few minutes later, she returned, but akashi was just staring straight ahead, frozen in place.

whatever the thing was, mrs. kaname slid it over the table to her late daughter's husband. "here,"

it was a small photo album. on top of it was a crumpled up paper that had y/n's handwriting.

"that was the last favor she asked of me. apparently, she knew… she felt, that, her hopes were slipping away. her heart gave up."

akashi's eyes went down to observe the album but his hands refused to leave his lap.

"as what she wrote there, she told me that if ever you visit, i should give that to you, so you'd know and you'd see the things you missed when your son was growing."

mrs. kaname stared at him for a while, and decided, to stand up and leave him alone, giving him the privacy he should have, since that album's contents were for him and his eyes only. she figured it wasn't part of her right to take a peek.

akashi brought out the chess piece and placed it before him before he hesitantly took the photo album. the glass queen reflected the sun's light, making it shimmer in the background as the redheaded man began to flip through the album's pages slowly.

seiji and y/n in a theme park, a picture taken by seiji himself with y/n staring ahead at the sunset by the beach, seiji making a three-point shot in their garden, seiji playing with his own team of friends, y/n having icing on her nose when she and her son baked together, and lots, lots more.

but then, it seems the album wasn't filled to its pages. and akashi wanted to see more, until he reached the final page and his mouth went open in the slightest.

akashi stared at the image of himself, his smiling self, in the wedding picture; and the emperor reminisced.

the way y/n became his wife that day, her eyes sparkling in delight, her face glowing despite being underneath the veil she wore, her soft lips on his when they kissed; everything was perfect.

until things began to fall apart.

the akashi business was about to face bankruptcy, due to an inside-job by one of his employees—how he didn't even see that, akashi couldn't find out why—and stockholders and investors began to pull out one by one.

because of that, it triggered the real akashi to go into hiding. all the stress, the pressure, the fear—building up in his heart.

his single, golden yellow eye began to diminish, the same time tears began to form in his pair of red eyes.

and now, the real akashi was back.

he took out the wedding picture from the album, and was surprised to see another paper, however this one was neat and organized, meant to be hidden and be discovered by him and him only.

akashi began unfolding it, and read y/n's letter, and he could hear her voice in his head as he did so.

'dearest sei,

thank you for visiting our son after all this time. i tried to forget about us, about you; but believe me, even though i'm no longer by your side anymore, that i love you. i always have, i always will. remember that i'll be here, to support you two—the two amazing men in my life.

from now on, i leave ji-kun in your hands. my mom promised me she would help and guide the both of you.

seijuro, i love you. i love you. thank you.

i love you.

good bye.'

the veranda had a roof, akashi was sure of that, he took note of that.

and it was supposed to be sunny.

then, why was there rain? the letter began to have droplets of water.

when the redheaded man felt something wet trickling down his face, he realized that it was of his own doing. not just about that, but about everything.

immediately, akashi asked where his wife lied in eternal sleep.

he took the time to buy a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers, and he crouched before the gravestone, feeling the weight of her letter in his pocket.

akashi took a deep breath, brought out a black king chess piece and the glass queen one. he placed them, lying down beside each other and pressed down, as if trying to bury them together; but not too deep, just enough for the two pieces to stay there for sure.

"…checkmate, huh?" he sighed, and proceeded to sitting, leaning slightly on the gravestone. "it happened to be that way, because i cheated?"

akashi grit his teeth in a mix of different emotions. he gasped, feeling the pain in his heart.

akashi seijuro cried.

"i'm… sorry; i'm so sorry…"

he closed his eyes, making more tears run down his face. he hated it, that it had to end this way. he regretted his words, his actions, his choice of wallowing in fear when she was there—to help and support him—always, no matter what. the redhead gasped for breath, and he spoke with his voice that could barely be heard.

"i never… realized it… i never realized how much you loved me…. and how much i wasted that love…"

he sobbed in silence, and a gust of wind blew... he felt that you were there, smiling and crying at the same time, as you hugged him. akashi didn't really see you, but then you vanished with the wind; finally feeling your soul at peace.

#kuroko no basuke #kuroko's basketball #kuroko no basuke scenario #kuroko's basketball scenario #kuroko no basuke angst #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi seijuro angst #akashi angst #kiseki no sedai #generation of miracles #kiseki no sedai angst #generation of miracles angst #generation of miracles scenario #kiseki no sedai scenario

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soft-ris · 4 years ago

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CP - 👽 - If that last slot is open, I'd like to request for a friend. Hes 5'8, brown eyes, brown short hair. He's very friendly, likes to talk a lot but is an introvert. He likes D&D, horse riding and plants. He has a phobia of needles and wasps. He is very generous with everything but money, he hoards money in his bank account. He's usually non violent but has punched someone to the hospital once because they insulted his mother. He's a cool dude. His favs are Jonathan, Wamuu and Melone.

Cupid’s Pick for your match made in heaven is...

... Jonathan!!

He's usually nonviolent but has punched someone to the hospital once because they insulted his mother.

Jonathan and Wamuu gets it.

Jonathan mainly because he too would punch someone if they had insulted someone he cared for, and the result would be the same as yours because fuck you see his muscles right?? Yeah, that’s that strong protective couple vibe y’all both emit <3

He might be a gentleman, sweet and positive, but if someone talks shit about your loved one? He’d throw in an extra punch for you too because NO ONE talks about your mom like that. He’s got your back, and he knows you got his too HMPH

Wamuu is all about fighting and honour, so he gets it. He would’ve had the same damn reaction (but I think rather than a hospital, they’d be in at the funeral home…). He also would have a whole new level of respect for you because damn, you can fight and you’re filial? He’s bringing out a ring and it’s not a poisoned one, that’s for sure.

I’m not gonna say all 3 of them would get turned on by that because they think it’s hot… (but they wouldKSKSKSKSK, just at varying degrees ofc).

He's a cool dude.

I can see Jonathan low-key swooning tbh? He himself is more of a gentle giant, like sure he was popular, but he never really saw himself as a ‘cool’ guy (imo). So when he sees how cool you are, it’s probably how his crush started. Just admires it and has stars in his eyes like ‘damn, my boyfriend’s so cool’ type of shit uwu. Would definitely be one of the first qualities about you that he brags to others about.

He likes D&D, horse riding and plants.

Jonathan looks like he horse-rides as a hobby? So horse riding dates are for sure a thing between the two of you. Y’all can ride a horse together into the sunset, or race and see who would win in a friendly competition with cute (or nsfw) bets and rewards and punishments, & etc. Just very cute horse riding centered couple’s activities/dates uwu

Melone looks like he’d understand D&D the quickest, with Jonathan being second & Wamuu being the slowest to pick it up (pls be patient with these 2KSKSKK). Melone can even do a 3D holographic version of it probably lol

Jonathan also looks like he’d indulge in your plants interest. Asking you questions, listening to you talk about them, and all that jazz. Would even buy you some if you want (as gifts). I can’t see him remembering the scientific names of the plants well, so him mispronouncing some of them would be a cute little inside joke between y’all uwu. He also remembers your favourite(s) and would press them into bookmarks or into a necklace or something equally sweet as a gift for you

He has a phobia of needles and wasps.

Out of all the 3, I think Jonathan would be the one who wouldn’t push you to get past this fear or do something weird with it to you. He’d understand and try to keep these things away from you as much as he can. Like if a wasp appears near you? Mf will punch it away or hamon it away, that’s 10000% for sure. Needles in the vicinity? Gone before you can even notice its presence. Overall very thoughtful and sweet about it.

Wamuu, I can kinda see him trying to get you to stop having a phobia of these things. Would ask you to fight it somehow and make it into a battle analogy somehow lol

Melone would file it under your phobia facts and might or might not try to get you to stop having a phobia of them too, but much less active in his plans than Wamuu I feel.

He's very friendly, likes to talk a lot but is an introvert.

That’s cool because Jonathan is a warm soul and a sweetheart. He’ll listen to everything you have to say, he’ll give you space when you tell him, and he won’t be pushing you to hang out if you tell him no. He’s friendly too so y’all would hit it off easy, and his more extroverted nature would pair well with your introverted nature. It’s as they say, complimentary traits for that good balance between a couple yk?

He is very generous with everything but money, he hoards money in his bank account.

I can see Jonathan falling for your generous personality trait. He thinks it’s sweet in how you are so kind hearted and have a lot to give. IMO I can’t see him necessarily understand the money bit since he came from a rich family, but he does know money has a lot of value and over time, he would get why you hoard money. It doesn’t grow on trees after all. Would ask for financial advice or tips from Speedwagon if you need any in order to increase the numbers in your bank account tho

Wamuu doesn’t get why because money doesn’t matter to him lol, he’s more of a fighting and honour and loyalty to his masters type of guy. While he doesn’t get it, that won’t mean if he sees something worth lots of money he won’t give it to you because he will. Wamuu would equate your love of money to his love of fighting and honour, and he’ll gift you with expensive stuff or just money in general for your bank account.

Melone toooooooootally gets the whole money bit. His whole team tried to go against Diavolo because of power and money too, so he 100% gets the hoarding money thing. Won’t judge you on it. I can also see Melone taking advantage of your generosity if you’re a push over? So make sure to call him out on it and reign him in if that happens (he’d probably enjoy that too if yk what I mean lmao)

#jjba #jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #cupids_pick #jojo jonathan #jonathan joestar

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currentfandomkick · 5 years ago

Text

Team Miraculous and Batboys - Friday Fun

hey, so thank you for your patience, i finally got time to write and was not too dead to!

For those looking for it in order, see the ao3 link HERE

Tally: Separate exposure (END GABRIEL first, kids got enough to deal with—let them have a break):IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII (unless we get a tired, pissed off Marinette otherwise) I ((I would fear her wrath too much to do that)) Screw it, Everyone Knows All At Once: III (BONUS: Team Puts it Together + get Ladybug Defense) I Separate Exposures PLUS ladybug speech later: IIIII (Honestly, I just see Ladybug being Like That while the batboys know he’s chat and are all for her tearing people a new one the way they wish they were allowed to in Gotham when asked questions by the press or police that Cross Lines)

Adrien puffed up his chest as he grabbed Damian during lunch. Jason said he couldn’t make it but that there can be more than one shovel talk, so he’ll handle the next one. Adrien has Dibs on the first.

“Damian, can we talk?”

Damian raised an eyebrow before saying, “Aren’t we talking now?”

Adrien almost panicked. Almost! He practiced okay! “I—in private!” he crossed his arms for good measure.

Damian furrowed his brows before nodding. “Very well.”

Adrien… slipped. He beamed like usual. “Great, follow me!”

The ended up in one of the more abandoned classrooms, a bit further from where people liked to go for lunch, just like Jason told him to. Something about the lack of people being unsettling and making it clearer that you hold the power.

“So,” Adrien subconsciously rocked back and forth, “you know why we’re here, right?”

Damian was watching him carefully. Why did he feel like he was the one being interrogated now?

“You are moving far too much. Stand firm.”

Adrien forced himself to do that. He need to be taken Seriously for this to work. “Oh, uh,” he rubbed his neck, “my bad.”

Damian nodded and waited for him to continue.

“Well, we both know you like Marinette.”

“She is an interesting character,” Damian agreed(?). “Why do you bring her up?” (Damian knew why, but he supposed this was good practice for Adrien to learn how to be more imposing.)

“I, you like-like her.” Adrien was… annoyed he was denying it. “And if you hurt her then you’ll have to deal with me.”

Damian almost sighed, almost. “You need to be more specific for consequences. Financial or social ruin, “make disappear” or explicit bodily harm often work.”

Adrien furrowed his brow at that. “I. Well—now you know! And I’m only the first one you have to deal with! Wait until the others hear about this!”

“I am not going to romantically pursue Marinette,” Damian stated calmly. “It would not be wise as I am leaving after the semester.”

Adrien frowned at that. “But you like her.”

“She is someone I admire, yes, but it is not logical to being a relationship when you know it will end badly for both parties,” Damian explained carefully. “I am no threat.”

Adrien kind of wanted him to go after Marinette now. She likes him! And he won’t even when he does and—why does it feel like he’s in a soap opera?

Damian put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “That was a good first try. Perhaps look up other discussions like the one you wanted to have and model your next attempt after them?”

Adrien nodded dumbly, still reeling from the other ignoring his crush for such a stupid reason. There are long distance relationships! And even then, you get to be with someone you love for a bit is better than not at all. He just… can’t get Damian’s thinking as the other left him alone.

He got an akuma alter then.

“Plagg, Claws Out!”

Marinette was beaming around lunch when Nino and Sabrina took off. The event was live and she as streaming it with Chloe.

She laughed as she took a screenshot of the board’s expressions. They were Perfect.

Chloe shook her head before giving off her own ‘evil Chloe grin’ “They deserve it, but remember Marinette---”

“I will only use my powers to defend from Superemely Bad and otherwise work to fix the Bad.”

“And?”

“… I will consult with you first.”

“Good. Your first plan was a mess.”

“Legal exposure of the various systematic abuses wasn’t bad.”

“Sweetie, have you seen how the world works?”

“… fair.”

“We’re firing That Bitch right?”

Marinette shot Chloe one look.

“Good. Restraining order?”

“Hm, once Adrien’s emancipation goes through we can work on that legal battle. Think Sabrina can help? I still have pics from when her claws left bruises and broke skin before and after shoots. Dated too.”

“She will. Her dad too—he loves Adrikins.”

Marinette hummed at that, glad to know it might be a bit easier. Officer Raincomprix had one of the best records in his precinct and refused a promotion offer since it would take time away from his daughter and make it harder to do ground level work. Any one with him vouching usually got what they wanted, and it was an open secret he used for special cases only.

A few minutes after the announcement, the pair sending a quick ‘on our way back’ as they had dodged a question stream, and the ground shook.

Chloe and her locked eyes.

“I need to check on my parents!”

“Daddy needs help with the press storm!”

With that the pair ran off in their respective direction, only to change course at the last moment, altering where Ladybug would be seen coming from.

Marinette managed to find a manhole off-camera that she marked ages ago as a ‘safe’ transformation spot.

“Tikki, Spots on!”

Marinette suddenly felt bad. Maybe she should have been focusing on the Hawkmoth part of the equation more, as now she had a Mass Akumatazation on her hands.

“M’lady, I got four objects en route!”

“Ladybug I managed to nab two objects and am on route!”

And of course….

“Ladybug, I know your team should have this but, uh, I don’t think even Nightwing can stop them at this point. Its find the object and get it to you to purify right?” Red Robin asked, cowl up.

She sighed. Yes, just don’t let them break it until i can catch the akuma. Scarlet spawns faster and turn anyone they touch into an akuma.”

“Understood.”

This… this was going to be a long fight.

Marinette groaned as “Who’s got Dark Cupid?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Please tell me someone found him—he’s a key part of stopping this.”

“Black wings right?” Red Hood said into the comms.

“yes.”

“I’ll get him!”

Marinette wanted to scream when she heard Red Hood start cursing as—“No Fair! I called dibs!”

“You were far too slow.”

“Will someone give me his location?”

She blinked as an address appeared on her yoyo. “Thank you. Just, keep his brooch off from breaking until I get there.”

“Sure thing buggie.”

“Affirmative Ladybug.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and debated once more how bad it would be to send the group back to Gotham. Especially when she heard what sounded like one of Dark Knight’s knights taking a possibly lethal hit.

From Robin.

She hit him upside the head for that.

“None of them even got brainwashed agreement this time.”

“They were attacking you!”

“And I had it handled.” Using them as a distraction while she worked out whatever her Lucky Charm would turn out to be once they found Hawkmoth was her working plan. Dark Knight minions were fantastic at attacking everything that wasn’t Dark Knight. And the other akuma victims? Not Dark Knight.

She only needed one to lure the rest but now?

“Not from where I stand.” Robin was cross his arms. At. Her.

“Its called knowing my victims and how their powers work. One knight needed to get the rest, who attack all other akuma on sight. More time to find Scarletmoth and clear areas of him if we have Knight markers.”

Robin open and shut his mouth before saying, “I was not informed of this plan.”

“Because Scarlet checks up on victims at random and him knowing the plan ruins it.”

“Then why—“

“He can’t talk to unconscious minions. First victim needs them awake to know where they are.”

Marinette sighed when Nightwing got the bright idea to swing in with a kick to Scarlet’s chest.

Red Robin patted her shoulder.

“Three. Two. One.”

“Ladybug I’m so sorry I didn’t think Mayura was there to catch him!”

Marinette was very tired now.

“Queenie?”

“On it!”

They almost had the pair. Almost.

“Why didn’t you tell us the plan?”

Marinette wanted to bash her head against something. Scarlet Moth battles were rare. And right now? Marinette just wanted a Nap.

Red Robin seemed sensible enough to point out the obvious.

“Guys, we weren’t invited and her team knows her tells. They don’t say the plan in any of their battles, just follow any direction Ladybug gives them.”

There was a beep on her earrings.

“I have to go.”

“Buggie, hey, what’s the ru—“

Marinette ran off into a portal this time.

“I. Can she just.”

“Because M’lady’s the best Lady.”

“Chat,” Queen Bee reminded him.

“You too then!”

Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day.

Marinette got a message from Chloe that she’d be there later that night to take her and the other for a movie marathon, this time with Adrien and the rest of team End Gabriel Agreste in celebration.

Felix would be there.

Apparently Tim knew? She didn’t know how, but he did. And he was asking how she handled the last akuma battle.

“Got Knighted. Head hurts. Maman thinks I’m from the group that got killed by Syren again.”

She was not expecting that to mean Gina invaded while she was passed out.

“My leetle Fairy died again!”

“Gina, it can’t be helped with attacks like that.”

“She doesn’t remember for sure, just, most likely what happened.”

“And what if Ladybug failed!”

Marinette felt something cold in her then.

She came down then, not seeing the other guests (apparently Tim visited and Jason came along? And Adrien was there.)

“Ladybug can’t fail.” Marinette and Adrien said together.

“If Chat fails, we always have Ladybug to fix it. She can get allies,” Adrien began.

“And she can cast the cure at any point in a battle and reverse the damage from any particular chain of events,” Marinette let slip. “She doesn’t do it until after the Akuma is caught because if she doesn’t then it will only happen again but worse.”

“And you just, what, live like this!” Gina was pissed.

Marinette held her ground. “If Gotham gets to depend on a bunch of furries and Metropolis an actual alien that chills in the arctic, why can’t you get that Paris trust Ladybug to handle the miraculous?”

She missed the choking from Tim and Jason.

Adrien didn’t. He snorted. “Gotham’s furrious protectors.”

He missed the look of betrayal on Jason’s face. “Red Hood is not a furry.”

“I thought he was a Robin? Ex-furry?”

Jason didn’t know how to respond to that.

Gina was glaring back at her granddaughter the entire time. She wasn’t giving in.

“You can stay with a friend of mine in—”

“I’m good. My family, friends and life are all here. I’m not leaving my home because of some crazy butterfly man.”

Adrien couldn’t stop himself from agreeing. “Plus, you just feel off the whole time. I mean, I’m used to Paris now but I grew up with Felix in London and we’re still trying to work out what happened since Father took me away.”

Marinette was about to say something when Chloe barreled in. “Ah, both of you are here. Mme. Cheng—“

“Its Sabine dear, and yes, I know you and Marinette and your friends have something planned for the night.” Sabine smiled easily, gesturing for Marinette and Adrien to follow. “Now go and try to have some fun, okay?”

“I get to pick the movie!”

“As long as it’s not that ridiculous ‘is my love interest my sister’ one.”

“Don’t bash Ghibli Chloe!”

“I’m with Chloe on this one, that plot line was weird. Maybe Pokemon or an Avengers movie.”

“…Mewtwo.”

“Chloe, please tell me—”

“I live in a hotel, of course there’s tissues!”

Sorry its short, i still suck at fight scenes but that was what i could work out without it reading as Horrendous.

hopefully i can update my other fics soon, but puppy needs cuddles

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron @tired-butterfly @multplelifes @yin-390 @area51qt @toodaloo-kangaroo @bzz75 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @daminett4life @smolplantmum @karategirl119 @goblinwhoships @melicmusicmagic @maribat-is-lifeblood @spartanxhunterx @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #daminette idea au #miraculous team and batboys #my writing #my writings #Gabriel Agreste Ended #long post

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quirkless-and-embarrassed · 5 years ago

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Sir Nighteye

Ok, I watched the anime and felt like doing another character meme!

Spoilers for Overhaul arc/season four of the anime.

Favorite thing about him:

I like that Nighteye didn’t allow his admiration of All Might to turn him into a pushover. Such adulation could have blinded him to All Might’s flaws, something Midoriya struggles with, but Nighteye stood firm, spoke his mind, and took action in accordance with what he believed. The way Nighteye willingly, gladly admits to being wrong (about Midoriya and All Might’s decision to fight fate) makes it clear that it wasn’t pride that drove Nighteye away from All Might, but actually principles and genuine concern/panic. Nighteye was happy to be wrong, even though it meant that his failures to change the future were true failures and not simply something out of his control. Knowing this enabled Nighteye to let go of his underlying fear that his quirk didn’t just see the future, it set the future in stone, and he’s able to die peacefully after giving All Might and Midoriya his full, unconditional approval, and after internally apologizing to Mirio for seeing him as a vessel before realizing the error of his ways.

Nighteye presumably awakened his quirk when was four or five, and he was thirty-eight when he died. That’s thirty-four years—he could have used his quirk easily thousands of times, maybe more than ten-thousand—and never once has the future significantly deviated from what he saw. Essentially, his quirk’s been the daily Word Of God since he was five years old. It’s easy for Midoriya or Rock Lock to say, bring it on, I can smash fate; for Nighteye, who has actually tried, it’s a completely different ballgame. He knows what it MEANS to try to change to fate, but he’s determined to try anyways.

I like the balance Nighteye strikes between fierce idealism and calculated realism. Yeah, the narrative often criticizes realism for not being plus ultra, but it’s a quality I like. Nighteye wanted to carefully plan Eri’s rescue and Overhaul’s arrest, but his caution didn’t make him any less committed or passionate, or any less admirable than anyone who would have (tried to) saved her immediately (it’s not like Overhaul would let anyone walk away with her).

I like his hero name. The Sir invokes the honor of a knight, All Might’s vassal, the “eye” is obvious, and “night” because he can see in the “dark”: the future is clear to him. Plus, I like the night/knight pun.

I also like just how gangly, angular, and weird he looks. He has some quality body language with the angle of his head.

Least favorite thing about him:

His stamps…his abs…come on. He doesn’t need to a fantastic fighter. His stamps are a funny weapon to be sure, but it irritates me that they’re as strong as they are. It’s ridiculous that Nighteye could cartoonishly hurl Rappa the way he did, and it was stupid to tear his shirt to show off how ripped he was. I felt like Horikoshi was trying to show us that Nighteye meets the standards of a conventional hero, when he could be just as much of a hero using his brain. At the most, someone like Nighteye, who emphasizes logic and excels at predicting opponents’ next moves, should be carrying a gun like the police.

The tickle machine. Eughh. I could barf at how much I hate it.

It’s also frustrating that Nighteye completely wrote Midoriya off as a “quirkless middle-schooler” who could never become the Symbol of Peace and actively undermined All Might even now that he was finally raising a successor. I can at least respect how upfront he is about it: Midoriya knows what he’s getting into by the time he submits his work study application to UA. But even without that, Nighteye doesn’t trouble me as much as he did the first time I read the manga because 1) I figure Nighteye saw Midoriya when he foresaw All Might’s doomed future, because Midoriya is such a big part of his life that of course Nighteye saw him, 2) Nighteye is aware that they’re working on an extremely tight timeline: All Might is due to die within the next year or two, so picking a baby successor who’s going to need tons of hands-on guidance is a bad move, and 3) Nighteye paid the price for his “quirkless” comment when Mirio lost his quirk, and, despite what he said, it was clear that he didn’t love Mirio less, or respect him less as a hero, because of it.

I like that Nighteye appreciates humor, but his final speech about laughter and smiling, combined with Mirio’s determinedly positive reaction, makes me think that he may not have taught Mirio that it’s okay to be sad, that you don’t need to always smile. That would be a disappointing failure on Nighteye’s part, since the overwhelming pressure All Might feels to be positive+proactive is part of what made him unable to accept Nighteye’s criticism. It also fits with how Nighteye’s inner monologues tend to be more sympathetic than his actual dialogue, so maybe Nighteye should have tried to be less didactic and tell Mirio that he has been Nighteye’s pride and joy, instead of thinking that and giving Mirio a last speech on the importance of smiles and humor. I think he would have been a better teacher if he’d allowed himself to be more sentimental.

Favorite line:

My absolute favorite is in ch137, as he observes Mirio’s guilt from letting Overhaul retrieve Eri and bring her back to his headquarters. Nighteye thinks:

I can’t say whether or not the future can be changed. But we can change the past. How we view the past and interpret it. That much is possible.

It’s an important life lesson, and I like how he inverts the typical, “the past can’t be changed, but you can control the future so that’s what matters” perspective.

I also like it in ch130, when Nighteye berates-slash-comforts Midoriya, who regrets allowing Overhaul take Eri back: “Enough of that arrogant thinking! Haste makes waste. Go after him haphazardly, and he’ll slip through our fingers. You’re not quite so special as to save whom you want, when you want.” Then he elaborates on their plan and finishes with a bang: “The world is not so accommodating that you can act the hero because you feel like it. The cleverest villains out there lurk in the shadows. There will be times when every precaution must be taken.”

One more, in ch161. When he’s on his deathbed, Nighteye looks at Mirio and thinks, In the beginning…I only brought you in as a potential vessel, but you stuck by me, believed in me, and at some point…you became my pride and joy.

BROTP:

Him and Mirio. I love how Nighteye took Mirio under his wing in a half-logical way, viewing him as All Might’s proper successor, only to accidentally raise Mirio as his own successor.

I wish we got to see Nighteye and Aizawa interact more. They’re both the rational mentors who get attached to their kids. It would have been nice to see Aizawa talk to Nighteye about his problem child or about Mirio, or to help Midoriya navigate his relationship with Nighteye, but since Aizawa doesn’t know about OfA and Nighteye was on his way out anyways…oh well.

I’d also love to have seen Nighteye and Hawks interact. They’re connected on a meta level, as the unofficial righthand men of the #1 heroes, and also by the idea of fate. Nighteye’s arc centered on the fact he could see the future, and the future he saw could not be changed. Hawks may or may not know it, but the imagery surrounding him is unmistakeable, and we the readers know that some sort of doom is waiting for the man who goes too fast. Whether Hawks can defy fate or if he’ll be crushed by it remains to be seen (and, like Nighteye, he’s not looking promising).

Hawks takes one look at Nighteye—perfectly pressed suit, pinched, no-nonsense expression and all—and is like oh this guy looks like he’s gonna be fun. Nighteye looks even more tightly wound than Endeavor. But actually, Nighteye actually respects and appreciates Hawks’s cavalier attitude! And though they rarely see each other, since they live far apart, they become friends who mainly swap information and keep each other up to date on villain things. Occasionally Hawks will see something ridiculous, like a meme or something, and send it to Nighteye, and Nighteye follows Hawks on social media and sometimes likes his stuff.

It’d be especially interesting to see them disagree about All Might. Nighteye is such a hardcore fanboy, Hawks professes to not be a fan, the Symbol of Peace is such an important part of how Nighteye envisions the future, and it’d be interesting to hear Hawks’s perspective on the Symbol of Peace and where it fits into his vision of the future.

I also appreciate Nighteye and All Might’s relationship, but like…idk, they got so little time together in canon, I kinda prefer to think of it as a dead brotp. Even if Nighteye had survived, I would kinda want his relationship with All Might not to be very close, because even though they weren’t angry anymore didn’t mean they could pick up where they left off.

OTP:

Hmm…not really anyone. I haven’t read much Nighteye fic. There is this one touching soulmate AU where he and All Might both bear the black symbol of someone who has been rejected by their soulmate…here.

NOTP:

No, not really.

Random headcanon:

One of the reasons he reacted so harshly to Midoriya as All Might’s successor is that when he foresaw All Might’s death, he also saw Midoriya. Midoriya’s failure to protect All Might from his gruesome death revealed him as an unfit successor, and he believes if he can remove Midoriya from the equation, then he will have changed the future.

Nighteye helped All Might track down AfO to avenge Nana, and he felt partially responsible for All Might’s injury in addition to fearing that his quirk set All Might’s future in stone.

Nighteye used his quirk on All Might between surgeries, because he couldn’t stand not knowing whether All Might would survive his wounds from AfO or not. He should have stopped when he saw All Might survived, but—he’s such a fanboy, and he saw that future!him was terrified and arguing with All Might about something, and he knew immediately just from the expression on his own face that he’d foreseen All Might’s death. He couldn’t resist looking ahead to find it and learn how much time All Might had left.

…part of me thinks that the reason Nighteye’s foresight was wrong about Midoriya’s death was because Eri also has a time-related quirk, and there was nothing Midoriya really did to change fate. Which would be sad, but. Yeah.

I’d like to think that Nighteye had a really wacky, judgmental cat with a questionably funny name. It sat on top of the fridge and looked down on him when he came home late. After his death, it becomes his agency’s cat and harbors a dangerous grudge against Bubble Girl’s aromatic bubbles.

Unpopular opinion:

It seems like plenty of people dislike him, so…I like him? He’s not even close to one of my favorites, but still.

Even though I like him, I was surprised to discover he was dead—I forgot he died, so I guess his death scene didn’t leave an impression on me. Looking back on it, I think it’s a nice enough scene, but at the time I was probably too exasperated by the overhaul arc as a whole to care much.

idk, I don’t see people talk about him much.

Song I associate with him:

uh…um…well……there isn’t really any music I associate with him. Here are a few songs that are very loose associations, I guess.

Darkside of the Sun by Tokio Hotel reminds me of how All Might’s public persona has taken over his identity, and Nighteye is seeking to save his life by retiring his persona.

Carry Me Down by Demon Hunter has the line “I know the pain inside my heart / can’t break the fear inside of yours,” which reminds me of Nighteye’s grief can’t persuade All Might to confront the reality of his imminent death, plus other stuff in the song about unspoken regrets and death.

And last, Turns to Dust by Sound Surfer and Nilka reminds me of Shigaraki (for obvious reasons), but I think it also speaks to Nighteye’s fear of his quirk.

Favorite picture of him:

Ch126 – Nighteye’s glare when Midoriya mimics All Might’s smile! He sure is intimidating 😂

Episode 75 – This moment did nothing for me in the manga, but it was genuinely moving in the anime. The voice acting and music <3

I’ve also done Todoroki, Bakugo, Uraraka, Endeavor, Amajiki, and Shinsou!

#sir nighteye #nighteye #sasaki mirai #bnha #bnha s4 spoilers #nerd mumbling #text #ask meme #mirio #hawks

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lesboinspace · 5 years ago

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PKMN Villains Zine Fic: The Aether Foundation

This was written for @pkmnvillainszine !! Digital copies of it may go on sale again if there’s enough interest~ I loved being able to write about Lusamine, she’s one of my favorite characters! Her past is hinted at in the game so I did my best to add to it :D I do feel that this is important to note: no one’s past is an acceptable reason for abusing someone else, and in no way am I saying that!! I just think Lusamine is a really complex character that we didn’t get enough focus on, thus this was born c:

Beautiful Disaster

Word Count: 2,583

Rating: T

Summary: Lusamine is an abusive mother, her heart black and mind rabid with dangerous dreams of destiny. However, she wasn’t always so void of morals; quite the opposite, in fact. It takes quite a traumatic past to corrupt an angel into her sinister counterpart. [A Lusamine-centric overview of her history as well as the Aether Foundation’s]

Lusamine’s heart was, once upon a time, one of overflowing love. Her gentle soul was angelic, admirable, just bursting with kindness as it sought hurt to heal.

She was renowned for her remarkable compassion, it being deemed her most defining and enticing trait. This unparalleled kindness led to swarms of adorers, treasuring her and the calming aura she carried with each soft step against the earth.

She was treated like a saint by strangers; a mere conversation would be enough to fall under her coaxing spell. Of course, Lusamine had also been blessed with a youthful exterior.

Her lithe physique, long locks of golden sunshine, and glowing green eyes may have intrigued passerbys, but it was Lusamine’s pure heart that caused many to revere her. It’s why Mohn married her.

Despite her perceived perfection, too beautiful to be of this world and a compassion rivaled by none, there was yet another factor that made Lusamine beyond mortals’ comprehension.

Lusamine had a brilliant, curious brain. She’d eye a problem, an equation, a mystery, and with ease, the answer would come together like puzzle pieces.

However, her vast Intelligence was often omitted, made irrelevant by her exceptional beauty and caring disposition. Of course, Lusamine’s logic was respected in her work environment, given its scientific purpose.

Even so, as Lusamine contributed to breakthroughs for the good of all Pokemon, compassion was viewed as the main driving force by those around her, all while bearing the form of a gorgeous young lady.

It didn’t matter that her brain functioned like that of a machine. Rather, the attention was, as usual, on the fantastic results of such endeavors: All the time, all the effort, was chalked up to Lusamine’s caring nature instead of her wondrous intellectual mind.

To many, Lusamine wasn’t even human, too above such a dull title and abysmal fate. She was spawned from the sky, an angel among men who’d abandoned the glorious heavens to be marveled at as she aided those in need. A wingless deity with a pure soul, not to mention the IQ surpassing the common genius…

Then her children were born, and everything changed. None of those things that marked Lusamine as heavenly mattered anymore. Only her babies mattered.

Those first moments of existence for Gladion and Lillie, the shallow breaths as their children entered the world and the cries that followed, set the stage for the future. When Lusamine held her perfect children close as Mohn caressed her shoulders, reality froze.

An unforeseen flash captured the family in a still frame. The picture hung in the forefront of Lusamine’s mind, framed and isolated. That day, she sought to claim this bliss for eternity, expanding the feeling of absolute joy across her timeline.

Life was perfect, too perfect to let subside. A certainty cemented itself in Lusamine’s essence: she would enjoy this perfection every day until she dies, still bearing a smile.

After experiencing the utmost level of happiness, Lusamine wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

Perfection was tasted, and she refused to spoil her tongue with anything else. They were a family, so beautiful in their completion. Everything was as it should be. Lusamine didn’t expect it all to be finite.

While studying Ultra Wormholes, Mohn was ripped from his dimension right in front of her. An experiment had erupted into chaos as Lusamine tried with all her strength to pull her husband away, but it was futile. She’d managed to ground herself behind a sturdy column.

Mohn had been less reactive, mesmerized by the wormhole while Lusamine had immediately fled. By the time her husband ran, Lusamine could barely grip his hand before he was sucked into the unknown, forever lost, forever out of reach.

When the wormhole vanished, Lusamine screeched as she fell to her knees, calling for her husband over and over until it sounded like anything but a name. The love of her life was gone in an instant, their children left without a father. They founded the Aether Foundation together, yet the work Mohn had dedicated himself to betrayed him. It wasn’t fair.

This was all that ran through Lusamine’s broken mind when she screamed and pounded on the floor. Wicke and Faba had burst in to find her beating the tile until her hands were bloody. Neither of them could ever erase their boss’s shattered voice from memory.

They’d tried to lift her from the floor so she’d stop harming herself, but Lusamine refused to be moved. Each time Faba and Wicke pulled her up, Lusamine crumbled back down. Eventually, they dropped to either side of Lusamine, stroking her back and waiting for her to explain what had occurred.

The two employees, though very different, met each other’s gaze with the same look of concern as they comforted their sobbing, shaking superior. They were so caught up in Lusamine’s meltdown that they failed to realize that their other boss was nowhere to be found.

The wings of a grounded angel cascaded one by one, abandoning the once seemingly perfect being. Lusamine was crumbling, cracking and crying until her wings were eventually ripped from her back.

She snapped, stripped of all that made her desirable. While her pretty face remained intact, her interior was corrupted. She was still beautiful to the eye but her soul was made ugly, twisted and distorted to the point of obscurity.

Most abandoned her, just as she abandoned kind motives. Ripping it out, taking a bite then stomping on it, Lusamine discarded her broken heart, blackened and useless and slowing her down.

The few who stood by Lusamine were employees, and most feared her. Those with any power within Lusamine’s ranks respected her for the panic she instilled in others, as if she did so by reaching into one’s chest and applying the pressure directly onto their heart.

Faba was one of those who idolized her. The Branch Director had always hungered for authority, and Lusamine was ripe with it from the start. Before, she ruled through inspiration, which is admirable in its own way, but Lusamine’s shift to an iron fist left Faba with no complaints.

How could he mind it? After all, Faba may be sneaky and influential when need be, but such magnificent brute strength was quite a sight to behold. He respected Lusamine before because he had to, given his position underneath her.

Then, like how most had been before her change, Faba was drawn to Lusamine like a marveled moth knowing flying into an unsympathetic flame. Lusamine didn’t simply fall apart when her husband was snatched from her grasp despite how easy it would’ve been.

No, Lusamine toughened up and got to work, doing whatever she could to get him back while crushing those that dared to slow her down. That’s the type of person Faba can proudly state his allegiance to, unlike the soft-hearted pushover Lusamine had once been.

On the other hand, Wicke was one of the few who was neither terrorized or in awe of Lusamine. Wicke attempted to replicate her boss’ once tranquil presence. Sure, the atmosphere she paraded around each floor of the foundation was warm and healing and gentle.

Wicke may have been a descendant of fae at most, her marvelous qualities stemming from mythical origins, but Lusamine was a goddamn angel. At least, she had been an angel, once.

Regardless, Wicke could never compare to the deity among men Lusamine had been, and in a way still is. Her soul was tainted, yes, painted black by bitterness and despair. While no longer a heart of heaven, a demon is still deserving of awe when compared to the mediocrity that is mankind.

All in all, she didn’t let herself latch onto what anyone else thought of her anymore: she didn’t need their opinions to get her husband back. Mohn needed her objective and alert; anything else was unnecessary. Nevertheless, a low growl always toppled out Lusamine’s lips when she spotted Wicke offering someone a hug, advice, or a shoulder to cry on.

Lusamine may’ve left all that behind, but seeing someone essentially replace you isn’t the greatest feeling. Not to mention when that replacement is less than subpar, though it’s not fair to Wicke to say so. After all, there’s no comparison between a queen and a goddess.

Lusamine thought, at the very least, she’d have Gladion and Lillie. Her sweet, obedient children would comfort her, praise and admire her as she spent every waking minute on saving Mohn.

They were supposed to keep her somewhat sane, grounded enough to focus. Instead, they betrayed her as well, tossing Lusamine aside when her halo shattered, the pieces contorting into horns. Thorns sprouted out of her stem, pricking those who once found peace in her embrace.

Fine, Lusamine didn’t need them. She didn’t need anybody! Her studies of the Ultra Beasts and their wormholes were finally bearing fruit after about a decade. One way or another, Lusamine’s quest to locate Mohn would soon come to an end.

Returning to consciousness, the scientist cracks her eyes open. She immediately regrets it. Not only is the sight of anything but blackness agonizing, but the room is drenched in absolute white.

The overbearing amount of it blinds Lusamine, and she groans through the oncoming pain thundering in her skull. Squeezing her eyes shut for half a minute, she tries again, though with more caution. At least she’s prepared for the searing sensation that’s to come.

Lusamine anticipates the unavoidable pain from her brilliant environment, but she’s an intellectual. The throbbing need to know the details of her situation outweighs the desire to fall back into a kinder, oblivious unconsciousness.

Her curiosity burns much as her assaulted irises. She gnaws on her lip through the pain as Lusamine attempts to raise her eyelids further bit by bit.

Fingers claw at the material beneath them. Thin cloth curls under her intense grip, though the odd texture peeks her already raging curiosity. Uncurling her fingers, Lusamine runs her hand over the fabric.

Gritting her teeth, she lowers her gaze away from what’s directly in front of her to the bed. It’s a specific type, one that Lusamine hasn’t experienced since…

Since childbirth. Lusamine manages to open her eyes fully, brow furrowed as she gapes at the hospital bed. She can’t help the immediate disdain that sours her mouth when she spots her hideous paper bag of a gown. Why…is she here? What happened to her?

Lusamine’s unforgiving headache punishes her soon as she tries to recall any recent memories. Using any extra brain power isn’t worth the agony, so she returns to her original quest: analyze her surroundings.

The bed and thin, teal gown give away where she is, but she’s desperate for more information when left with so little outside of that. Peeping from under her eyelashes, Lusamine notes the expected: white sheets, white walls, white furniture.

The room is pure as her angel wings had once been. Although, the white of the room portrays anything but purity. It’s more of a lack of color, devoid of passion, joy, and life itself.

Dull and soul-sucking and somehow so bleak in its blankness. Lusamine’s weakened state has made her even paler, almost ghost like as she blends into the monotonous background.

At the same time it’s bright, scorching Lusamine’s eyes, existing as the opposite of oblivion. It empowers the hammering within her head to stare anywhere and at anything in the room.

The paint gleams as rays of the sun exacerbate its shine, protruding through a window that consists of almost the entire back wall. Lusamine can barely take it any longer, eyes watering as they cry out for her to show them mercy by shutting them, but she doesn’t.

The tears streaming down her face don’t stop her. Her blurred vision manages to pick up the IV embedded in her left arm, and the outlines of contrasting items on the bedside table to her right. The shapes become more clear after Lusamine sets her gaze on the stark objects, willing her mind to settle and focus.

Several more seconds allow her to make out the assortment of flowers, stuffed Pokemon and cards piled atop the small table. Leaning towards them, Lusamine finds that a few have even fallen onto the ivory tiles due to the little space and the sheer amount of trinkets awaiting her upon waking.

Her stare is blank as she reaches for a toy Teddiursa. Lusamine drops it onto her lap, gaze flickering up and down the one of many similar get well gifts.

Get well from what, Lusamine wonders, though a sharp pain in her skull cuts off that thought train. She clutches the soft, eternally smiling bear tighter and tighter like a lifeline. Fingers threaten to strangle it, grip demanding answers that she’s unable to ponder on her own.

Propping it beside her, Lusamine ignores the few other knick knacks on the floor and grabs one of the cards off the countertop. An elementary poem about the strength behind recovery is printed inside, along with the names of several Aether Foundation employees on every inch.

They’re not many in the mess that she recognizes, but there’s enough that she realizes that these are the lowest ranking peoples in the branch. So they couldn’t even bother to buy separate cards…

Lusamine snatches another from the table, finding a similar set of stanzas inside. Although, unlike the previous card, this one is less than twenty signatures. Faba’s cursive and Wicke’s blocky handwriting with a heart instead of a dot on the ‘i’ are found underneath the printed text.

She doesn’t spare it a second glance as she grabs one more card. Her eyes are dull, unsuspecting when Lusamine opens it, doing so just to pass the time and sate her incensed curiosity.

What Lusamine finds wracks her already disheveled mind. A sharp inhale burns her dry throat. Inside is a polaroid picture of Lillie and Gladion smiling shoulder to shoulder, along with sweet messages and their signatures underneath.

It all comes crashing back into her in a single wave. Memories of the Ultra Beasts, being merged with one, Lillie’s distraught expression as she begged her mother to stop. Somehow, what sticks out most of all is her daughter’s defiance, the determination behind her hardened green eyes, her mother’s matching eyes.

Lusamine drags a hand across her face, tears forming again. Despite the rivers flowing down her cheeks, Lusamine can’t pinpoint why she’s suddenly so overwhelmed. Grief over what she’d become and the people she pushed away in the process.

Shame from letting herself be blinded by her search for Mohn that she disregarded the legacy they shared as husband and wife, their precious children. Longing to embrace her babies, knowing how much they’ve suffered.

Lusamine lost her husband, but because of her distorted desperation to be reunited with him, Lillie and Gladion lost both their parents.

They seem to have forgiven her last Lusamine can remember. However, being able to forgive herself is a whole other venture.

What wonderful children they’ve become without her. They’re kind enough to give a monster like Lusamine a second chance even when she believes herself beyond redemption.

“When did you both become so beautiful?”

Maybe if Lillie and Gladion see something worth saving in Lusamine, it just might be plausible. With a small smile, she raises the picture to her lips, kissing both of her babies’ static foreheads.

“Maybe I can be beautiful again…”

#pokemon #zine #lillie pokemon #gladion #lusamine #pkmn #pokemon wicke #faba pokemon #aether foundation #zine piece

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avengers-nextgen · 6 years ago

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The Aftermath XIII

“You have to act cool,” Penny ordered, eyeing her older sister carefully.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Cassy asked.

“Because I know you,” Penny insisted, taking her sister’s hand and tugging her out from the lift and into the living room.

“Guests?” Thalia asked hopefully, already peeking up from her place on the sofa closely mirrored by Salem.

“This is my sister, Cassandra,” Penny explained, “she’s here because she had business to attend to.”

“You can call me Cassy for short,” Cassy smiled, giving Thalia a small wave.

“She’s very pretty,” Thalia noted, “and I can see the resemblance.”

“Thanks,” Penny snorted, “Anyways, this is Thalia Odin. Daughter of Thor and Sif. Long complicated history there so don’t ask.”

“Do you have...” Cassy snapped her fingers, “lightning?”

“Not exactly, but I’ve been working on it,” Thalia promised. “Do you have...?”

Thalia made her hands father and closer apart.

“Shrinking? Nah, that’s Penny’s job. My mom was keen on keeping me from the hero scene,” Cassy explained. “So, whose the cat?”

“Salem,” Penny sighed, “showed up with one eye. No idea where the other went but I usually say he beat up a tiger.”

“Makes sense,” Cassy nodded. “But I’m assuming there’s others here besides Thalia and the cat.”

“Yeah, let’s see...” Penny thought for a moment before wandering down the hallway to a wide open room full of punching bags, pads, equipment, weights, and more. “James!”

“What?! I hate when you scream at me,” James huffed, having nearly jumped out of his skin. Tugging his headphones off he arched an expectant brow.

“This is my sister Cassandra, Cassy for short. Cassy, this is James Rogers eldest kid of the Captain America and Black Widow,” Penny added jazz hands for extra effect.

“Nice to meet you. Penny’s said nothing but nice things,” James assures, wooing sweat from his brow.

“I haven’t heard anything,” Piped up a voice from above. Penny glanced up to the ceiling to find Fox lounging in the rafters like a jaguar in a tree.

“I hate it when you do that!” Penny glared.

“No need for an intro, name’s Fox. You’re Cassy. Eldest Lang I presume,” Fox rested her chin in her hand.

“That would be correct,” Cassy nodded. “Your parents....”

“Aren’t very important to this equation,” Fox interrupted.

“She’s not a super,” Penny whispered impossibly loud. “She’s moody but she’s James’ girlfriend so we have to be nice.”

“Got it,” Cassy nodded.

“You are horrible at whispering,” Fox snorted.

“Yeah, whatever. On to the next!”

Penny took Cassy away from the training room and down the hall of bedrooms knowing most would be pent up inside. “Orion! You decent?”

“A decent guy? Yes,” the alien replied before smugly opening his door.

“I’d beg to differ,” Penny teased, ducking under his arm. “Scout, I knew you’d be here, but what’s this? We have a Piper too?”

“Yeah, she’s helping me figure out whatever the hell this is,” Scout held up a book with an all too complex diagram.

“Great, now all of you can meet my sister.” Penny rambled through the introductions like normal before Cassy for excited about finally meeting a Stark. Piper just blushed and tried to play it cool but all the while she was sending pleas of help to Penny via eye messaging. Penny just cackled on the inside.

“I can’t believe all of these people live here and you’re friends with them,” Cassy gushed, reminding Penny of when they were younger.

“You make it sound like I never had friends before,” Penny pouted, opening Nathaniel’s door. The blonde was fast asleep so Cassy was spared the enthusiasm that was Nathaniel Barton when it came to meeting new people. He was like a puppy that peed on the carpet.

“Baby Rogers. Big Laufeyson,” Penny gestured respectively to each girl after barging into Alex’s room.

“Uh...” Cassy looked at Penny waiting for more elaboration as to who she was being introduced to.

“Alex Rogers is James’ baby sister and Sage is the oldest kid of Loki. Don’t worry she won’t kill you. Maybe...”

“Gee, Thanks,” Sage glowered.

“Okay, but do you even have your own room because every time I come to bother you you’re here,” Penny replied, rambling impossibly fast but Cassy was able to pick out every word.

“Penny, don’t get too personal. Yeah?”

“Find...well, now you’ve seen them let’s go.”

“Pleasure to meet you!” Alex called as Cassy was dragged away once more.

“So, one you can’t meet is Siyanda cause she’s back in Wakanda but she’s super cool and she’ll be sad she missed you. Now, this is Enzo and he’s the baby Laufeyson. He’s really cool, likes conspiracy theories, and gets into trouble with me,” Penny beamed, stumbling upon Enzo beneath a blanket staring at the tv with popcorn in his mouth.

“Hi,” he said, though it was garbled from food.

“Hey,” Cassy laughed. Penny avoided embarrassing him further and move on to find Bianca who didn’t say much, and Drew who was trying desperately to figure out how the washing machines worked.

Thankfully Penny provided some assistance and the poor girl was spared suffering from excess dirty clothes. She’d really just borrowed a hodgepodge of what everyone else had that they’d outgrown or no longer liked. Penny promised to take her out shopping at one point of another but only after Cassy had met everyone.

“And now what you’ve been waiting for. The Strange Twins!” Penny leapt outside to find the two siblings playing a game of half hearted soccer. “That’s Chloe. Say hi Chloe.”

“Hi,” Chloe waved slowly.

“She’s the angsty one,” Penny whispered.

“Okay,” Cassy laughed.

“And that’s Arthur.”

“Heyo!” Arthur grinned, “I remember chatting with you on the phone.”

“Okay, now you can explode,” Penny smirked.

“It’s so cool to meet both of you in person. I totally admire your dad. He’s absolutely revolutionary in the medical field and I’ve been dying to ask him questions. You two are so much like him it’s crazy. And you have no idea how much of an honor it is to even be here. I mean what do you guys do? Is it weird having such a famous dad? Got any talents of hobbies or passions-“ Cassy paused only to catch her breathe and Penny couldn’t help but laugh at how childlike her adult sister could be.

“Well, let’s take it slow so I can process all that just happened,” Chloe laughed softly, “I’m too tired from Penny’s rapid fire questions to handle another round.”

“Right. Oh my gosh I am so sorry,” Cassy apologized emphatically.

“It’s okay,” Arthur assured.

“Arthur! Tell her about the thing!” Penny grinned, bouncing enthusiastically on the balls of her feet.

“Penny made me get you an autograph from our dad,” Arthur laughed, producing a small laminated photo. “She said you’d die for it and I said that would be bad so I’d gladly get you one.”

“Penny, you really asked?” Cassy turned to her little sister before crushing Penny in a hug. “You’re so sweet.”

“I can’t breathe!” Penny wheezed. When Cassy finally let go Penny scampered off and stole the ball from Arthur only to sit on it.

“You’re gonna make it egg shaped,” he warned.

“Didn’t know she could lay eggs,” Chloe remarked dryly.

“Oh! Cassy! Did I tell you he helped win state as the kicker for his high school football team?” Penny blurted, ignoring Chloe’s teasing.

“No,” Cassy shook her head. “But that’s amazing.”

“Uh...it was nothing,” Arthur blushed. “I had help. The whole team did great.”

“Yeah, but you were the best,” Penny beamed rolling off the ball and tossing it at him.

“I don’t really-“

“Penny, why don’t you go inside and get a movie going? Then we can all watch it together? Me and your friends?” Cassy asked.

“That’s an awesome idea!” Penny squealed before sprinting off.

“Always energetic,” Arthur sighed.

“Okay, I like you but don’t mess with her,” Cassy frowned.

“What?”

“Ah, the big sister talk,” Chloe nodded knowingly. “Good luck bro.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You will eventually, but I will go ape shit on you if you upset her whether I idolize your father or not,” Cassy arched a brow waiting for him to respond but Arthur only modded having gone pale. “Great. Now, let’s go watch a movie, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arthur squeaked, hesitantly following Cassy inside. “Sure thing.”

#avengers #avengers next gen #marvel #mcu #black widow #captain america #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #romanogers #scarlet witch #theaftermath #phase3 #chloe strange #arthur strange #penny lang #penelope lang #cassandra lang

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filmista · 6 years ago

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🎀 Female Characters And Performances I l❤️ve 🎞

1. Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster, The Silence Of The Lambs)

-Starling, when I told that sheriff we shouldn't talk in front of a woman, that really burned you, didn't it? It was just smoke, Starling. I had to get rid of him.

-It matters, Mr. Crawford. Cops look at you to see how to act. It matters.

Why?:

She is perhaps my all-time favorite female character and of the first ones, that I think of when I hear the phrase “strong women” in reference to films. She doesn’t go around kicking literal ass but she takes pride what she does.

She is driven and passionate about her work and even with obstacles, she believes in herself. Which isn’t to say that she isn’t vulnerable or scared at times, she is. But rather than beat herself up about it or suppress she eventually learns to overcome it. Or rather work around it and draws strength from it and in the end shows that real strength isn’t not feeling fear, it isn’t being emotionless or numb it is continuing in spite of it.

2. Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike, Gone Girl)

“It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters.” ― Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Why?:

Because she is one of the most complex female characters in modern literature and cinema. It’s incredibly easy to write her off as a female psychopath or a crazy bitch. While I don’t doubt that she might have mental problems, the film also shows us what might have caused some of her problems (the relationship with her parents, the pressure of living up to being Amazing Amy).

All of this aside, she’s just an incredibly fun and interesting character to watch. No matter what you might think of her morally.

There’s a phrase in the book that goes if I remember correctly something like this: “Amy likes to play god when she’s not happy. Old Testament God.” And yes, she’s incredibly pissed off for a large part of the film and does loads of scary, crazy shit throughout the film... all motivated by her absolutely astounding smartness and cunningness.

Personally, I wouldn’t say I agree with everything Amy does (I would be crazy if I did) but I do understand where some of her anger comes from and I even sympathize with her in a few instances in the film.

Point is though there should be more of these difficult, morally complex women in film. Sadly sometimes when women are unlikeable or difficult in a film we tend to as an audience dismiss them as “a crazy bitch”, or worse sometimes equate the actress behind the character to her on-screen persona.

3. Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver, Alien)

“Did IQs just drop sharply while I was away?”

Why?:

Instead of naming the obvious reasons which are her stubbornness and overall badassery, determination and courage. What I love about her is the fact that she’s not really always likable, she’s quite moody and cranky and even plain bitchy sometimes.

She speaks her mind even when that doesn’t always make her popular with those around her. A not always likable female lead isn’t so unusual nowadays but Ripley really was one of the first ones in a big blockbuster. And she’s a cat lady.

Also if I ever get a cat again, I want to name it Jonesy or if it’s a black one Salem.

4. Shelly Johnson (Mädchen Amick, Twin Peaks)

“I’m a waitress in a diner. I’ve never been compared to a goddess before.”

Why?:

Okay, first of all, I’ll admit to having a small crush on Shelly (like probably many a Twin Peaks fan) but she’s more than just a sexy waitress. We all know she married an absolute piece of shit of a man, and when we see her at home she is almost always silent and completely submissive out of fear.

But then we see her at the diner, and she transforms: she’s charismatic, flirty, bubbly and just insanely loveable overall. What I think makes her a great character though is that there are also hints at rougher and darker edges.

In Episode 4 of season 1, after Laura’s funeral (after Leland falls into the coffin and sobs hysterically, which yes I thought was quite hysterical) we see her making fun of Leland in the diner in front of a group of admiring old men. There’s an interesting side to her that seems to want to bully almost, perhaps as a way to get what she is experiencing at home out of her system.

5. Mademoiselle De Poitiers ( Helen Morse, Picnic At Hanging Rock)

-Ah! Now I know.

-What do you know?

I know that Miranda is a Botticelli angel.

Why?:

Because she is for her time (which was not always easy for women) an incredibly sunny, optimistic and kind person. While everyone is telling the girls at the school off or being strict with them she treats them with respect and shows an interest in their “teenage world”.

While she might seem like a conventional and quite traditional female character, I adore that she seems like she genuinely enjoys her feminity. You look at her and see a woman who you can tell simply loves and revels in flirting and romance and it’s incredibly charming performance to watch.

6. Laura (Gene Tierney, Laura)

“You forced me to give you my word. I never have been and I never will be bound by anything I don't do of my own free will.”

Why?:

I think it’s a remarkable film for its time. Laura is portrayed (once she appears) as an incredibly charismatic, alluring and smart woman that values her privacy and independence and as loving and being successful in her career.

The twist though is that for a seemingly very strong woman she has a very toxic friendship with a male friend who’s extremely jealous and possessive of her. He has ruined countless of her romantic relationships because no man is ever good enough for his Laura.

Finally, she dumps him as she realizes his manipulation and stays with the man she’d fallen in love with, which might seem like a conventional ending but I love how Laura, in the end, takes control of her own happiness and by extension her life.

7. Vanessa Lutz (Reese Witherspoon, Freeway)

I know there’s a lot of sick guys that get hard… thinkin’ about messin’ women up. Hell, that’s all you ever see on TV. But when a guy goes and does that for real like you were plannin’ on doin’ – I was just trying to scare you. You had your turn to talk! I think it’s only fair to let me get my two cents in. You’re absolutely right. Sorry. Please, go on. But when a guy goes and hurts someone who never hurt them… that makes him a criminal first and a sick guy second. It’s like being sick has to take second place to being crooked.

Why?:

Reese Witherspoon’s plentiful and colorful swearing, as well as her unapologetic aggressiveness. She’s a trashy and violent female character, and I always find it incredibly interesting to take a look at female characters that are perpetrators of violence and what motivated them.

An interesting thing is also that she is supposedly a morally despicable, white trash and uneducated character but actually has a better understanding of and less twisted sense of morality than any of the characters that are supposedly well adjusted, refined and educated people. Some of her blunt, often shocking comments hit the nail on the head on several problems in American and general society.

8. Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren, The Birds)

“I thought you knew! I want to go through life jumping into fountains naked, good night!”

Why?:

She’s my all-time favorite Hitchcock heroine. What I love about her particularly as a character is her spontaneity, her assertiveness, sass, and humor but above all her perseverance and genuine strength (though she’s occasionally prone to the dramatic sighing or shrieking women just sometimes did in older films ).

A delight for me in the film is that it turns a common romantic trope around: she is the one that first sets her sights on the man and consequently chases and gets with him.

She also consistently stands up for herself, point in case: the scene in the diner in which a local accuses her of causing the bird’s irrational and unexplainable behavior. I really believe she’s one of Hitchcock's most underestimated heroines and in my opinion also written with a depth that proves he was not a misogynist as is so often believed.

9. Wendy (Shelley Duvall, The Shining)

“You son of a bitch! You did this to him, didn't you! How could you! How could you!”

Why?:

While controversial just like Tippi Hedren’s performance in The Birds, I absolutely love Shelley Duvall’s work in The Shining and I think her performance is often very wrongly looked down upon.

Personally, I always thought film Wendy was stronger than book Wendy her performance is often dismissed as hysterical, over the top and she’s also called a dumb character very frequently.

In contrast to Nicholson’s performance though she’s pretty calm. What I love about the performance is the very subtle and slow changes in her attitude. People often find her a weak character, because she stays with her abusive husband I don’t think however that it is that unrealistic.

People in real life sometimes also tend to stay in these relationships until something drastic happens that forces them to really evaluate the situation. Her husband has moments where he convincingly plays at pretending to be the “nice and good husband” and so she chooses to buy it.

However once in the hotel, as Jack becomes increasingly mad she realizes her husband was never a good man, to begin with, and that she has reason to be very, very afraid of him and Duvall absolutely illustrates that fear brilliantly. At this point, instead of walking on eggshells as she did initially she realizes she and her son must simply get away from that man if they are to live.

I see how some people might not like her a character, it does feel like she screams a lot sometimes, but I find it incredible that even in her fear she still soldiers for herself and her child.

10. Ana (Isabelle Adjani, Possession)

“We are all the same. Different words, different bodies, different versions. Like insects! Meat!”

Why?:

Very simply put, Adjani’s utterly crazy and unhinged performance. It’s also a fantastic depiction of a slow and finally full blown descend into madness. What I love most of all is that while it may easy to dismiss her as a “psycho, hysteric” kind of female character she is not completely that there’s more nuance to it.

The film shows that the unhappiness in her marriage and the hints of abuse in it played a huge role as well. A showcase of the fact that love can sometimes truly drive us mad and make us lose ourselves.

Some fictional ladies that didn’t quite make this particular list, but might make appearances on another one:

Thelma (Geena Davis, Thelma & Louise)

-It’s not like I killed anybody, for God’s sake!

-Thelma!

Grace (Brie Larson, Short Term 12)

-Grace, you are a line staff. It's not your job to interpret tears. That's what our trained therapists are here for.

-Then your trained therapists don't know shit.

Celine (Julie Delpy, Before Trilogy)

“I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look like my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?”

#since I get asked about this a lot #I decided to make a list with some of my faves #I just realised after how much horror is in here #female characters #favourite female characters #women on film #movies #films #horror #favorites #cinema #filmista

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jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

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Outlander 4x02 Reaction: “Do No Harm”

I’m not sure what I was expecting for this episode, but I think I was expecting more.

Let’s dig in...

I know you are James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, but you were outnumbered bro. Being lied to isn’t your fault either. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Oh wait. Claire is literally saying everything I am saying. She’s got this. *Back to munching on popcorn*

Jamie and Claire reminiscing about the days when they were broke AF is so romantic. I miss the younger years with these crazy kids. I know it’s a big deal to Jamie to provide for Claire, and it’s admirable, but she lost twenty years with you dude. She’d live in a hole with you at this point.

It would have been fun to meet Jamie’s mother.

Indians = Highlanders. Ummm... I don’t know enough about my history, particularly Scottish history, to determine if this statement is true, but given what I know about Native American history this doesn’t sound true. At least the equation is keeping Ian’s mind open and his heart compassionate because I’d really hate for him to be a racist.

“Livestock. Goodness no they are great deal more expensive than that I assure you. Lord, knows where they’d be if I hadn’t taken them on and given them a home and a purpose. Why, some are so dear to me, I consider them friends.” This entire speech made me want to vomit. Where would they be Jocasta? HOME WITH THEIR LOVED ONES IN THE COUNTRIES THEY WERE STOLEN FROM LIVING THEIR LIVES IN PEACE.

There’s always the benevolent slave owner trope in any show addressing slavery. The character always thinks their “kindness” outweighs the sin of owning people. They use their benevolence like a cloak to hide their deeply embedded racism. They are just as bad, if not worse in some respects, as the violent slave owner. Owning people is violent and cruel no matter how you dress it up.

“Perhaps they see things a little differently, since they don’t have any choice.” Claire’s passive aggressiveness is A+ this week.

Jocasta announcing Jamie as her successor without discussing it with him first is a page out of my mother in law’s book. They should have tea together.

Jamie taking over River Run and freeing the slaves doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

Holy shit the process of freeing slaves is insane. Is this for real? Bloody hell America, you are the worst.

“Nothing will change under these laws.” Pretty sure that’s the point, Claire.

Is that a HOOK? This is horrific. Shoot all the white people Jamie. Screw it.

Sometimes Outlander feels like 18th century ER.

“It would have been better for us all had he died on that hook.” This entire conversation is soul crushing. This is also one of the very few African American characters who is given any kind of voice, which I find wildly problematic in an episode about slavery.

Claire being forced to decide between the lesser of two evils while somehow holding on to the oath she took as a doctor is really heartbreaking. But no where near as heartbreaking as the young man who is about to lose his life for defending himself.

These blood thirsty wretches don’t even realize the young man is drugged and/or already dead. All they see is the color of his face, which means he’s less than an animal in their eyes. Why can’t we shoot them? I’m drawing a blank.

Alright, I’m just going to say it. If Outlander is determined to make the comparison between the Native Americans and the Highlanders then I don’t understand why Jamie and Claire leave River Run. We spent an entire season trying to avert war and save the Highlander way of life. Are the odds stacked against them in the American South? Yes, but Claire wasn’t worried about igniting a spark or an explosion in France. In fact, that was the entire point.

It’s admirable Jamie and Claire don’t want to own slaves, even for a short time, but there’s also an air of “Well, slavery will be over someday.” Yeah, in 98 years!!!! I recognize the idea of Jamie and Claire ending slavery 100 years before the Civil War is ludicrously naive and the epitome of the white savior complex. Perhaps I would feel better about the episode if we heard more from the African American characters rather than Jamie & Claire reacting to them/saving them. I understand slavery is institutionalized in the south during the 18th century. It is a way of life. There’s not much Jamie & Claire can do, but spending only one episode on slavery feels more like a “Very Special Outlander” and I think the subject deserves more attention.

The upside is of course Jamie & Claire are one of the few voices of opposition to this evil and do what they can to help during their time at River Run. Claire coming from the future never felt so poignant as it did this episode. We know slavery ends and things change. We also know some things remain the same. Slavery is a great stain on America’s history and no matter what we do we can never erase it. We cannot hide from how this country was built and storytelling like Outlander has done is one way we face the atrocity of our nation’s history. It wasn’t a perfect episode, but at least the writers tried.

#outlander #outlander season 4 #outlander 4x02 #jamie and claire #outlander reaction #outlander reviews #outlander reactions #outlander season 4 review

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hyuuchiha-a · 6 years ago

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[ Okay, so...I’ve been a little too busy / sick to really be considering this blog like I wanted (great timing on my part), but I thought I’d give a very honest rundown of ALL the muses on this blog, how I view shipping them, and both IC and OOC ship biases. I’ll warn you now: there’s very little wiggle room. That’s both because I really don’t see many of them as someone to ship, but also mostly because these muses come from an established verse I wrote before Tumblr, which has been heavily plotted. Sorry not sorry, but it’s the only canon verse I feel like writing them in. I’ve also plotted a lot in regards to my AUs. It’s just how I do things. If you want canons who aren’t so rigidly written...find another blog!

Under a cut for length. Also please bear in mind these are all my opinions about the characters - it’s not gospel, it’s preference.

First, however, a few general rules:

Respect the headcanons I have for my characters genders, and sexual / romantic orientations. If a character is written as straight, they WILL NOT ship with a character of the same gender. Same for any other conflictions.

In general, I do not ship anything a generation gap or more. No sensei / student relations, and no parents with those their kids’ age, even as adults. It’s just a personal squick.

In addition, NO incestuous ships, and NO ships between someone over eighteen, and someone under. Agebending is fine - I just can’t do those kinds of ships.

To avoid having to list a LOT of nOTPs, any that breach these rules won’t be listed. If it says N/A, odds are there ARE some, they’re just covered by default by these rules, so I won’t list them. Some of these rules do have grey areas - feel free to ask, but also respect my decisions when I make them. Thank you~ ]

[ CANON MUSES ]

[ Uchiha Itachi ]

Ship biases: None nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, demisexual / heteroromantic Established ships: Suigin Ryū (kusunokihime) (singleship) In regards to canon, I don’t ship Itachi with anyone, really - he’s just too closed off, and his personality just...doesn’t really mesh with anyone’s in a romantic way. In regards to his most popular ships: Kisame feels much more like a friend to me; Izumi I don’t regard as canon due to being implemented after the manga ended; Deidara...hates him? Admires him sure, but doesn’t want anything to do with him. And anyone else...I just can’t see. His personality (which again, is just my opinion) makes him a very picky guy. The only canonxcanon ship I’ve ever written him in was Ita///Hina, but I don’t really enjoy that ship any longer...and again, I write him as singleship. And no, my ship isn’t out of nowhere - it came from literally hundreds of pages of RP from before Tumblr. Just because no one here wrote it doesn’t mean it’s an asspull =P This also plays into his own bias - he’s been written in this ship for about seven years. He’s a lil dedicated.

[ Uchiha Sasuke ]

Ship biases: Sasu///Hina nOTPs: Sasu///Saku Info: Cis male, greysexual / heteroromantic Established ships: My Hinata, tentative with gentlegracefulandfatal’s Hinata in ALAS, plotted with quietkunoichi’s Kimiko in OMaM (highly selectively multiship) Sasuke is by far one of the hardest to ship (don’t let the two ships fool you). The way I write Sasuke is exceedingly mistrustful: of both others, and himself. He’s obsessive about his family after all he lost. And everyone he had connections to pre-defection? He’s either neutral, or negative with. Those like Sakura and Ino who fawned over him shallowly he has a negative connotation with. Naruto, too - his teammates are by far his biggest obstacle due to their treatment of him after he left. He considers their insensitivities to his decisions and struggles - even AFTER learning what Konoha did to him, and STILL trying to drag him back - a huge offense. To start, he has a very negative view of any Sakura or Naruto muses, just as a warning. Most others are either lightly negative, or neutral. That doesn’t mean he can’t come to get along with them, it just takes work. And ships a LOT more so. Partly due to his impressions of other characters, but also heavily due to his own nature and view of himself. Due to my own bias, I pair him by default with my Hinata, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN he’ll get along with EVERY Hinata besides my own. He’s had one make him the angriest I’ve seen him in RP, and I’ve RPed him for seven years. It’s NOT a guarantee. Even so, the other Hinata he’s written with now has taken a lot of development. Bias =/= autoship.

[ Uchiha Shisui ]

Ship biases: None nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, heterosexual / heteroromantic Established ships: arranged marriage AU with wanderingmelodies’ Rin (highly selectively multiship) Shisui, despite his flirty nature, is actually really hard to pin down in a relationship. He’s personable, and that might show as him being playful or flirty. But he rarely has any intentions behind it. In ALAS, he spent a decade completely alone. His social skills beyond his family are a combination of how he was as a kid, and mimicry as he adjusts. For the moment, he’s not really interested in actually BEING with someone. He’s got too much to think about in his canon: both in regards to threats against his family, and his own psychological well-being. He might LOOK functional, but he’s got work to do on himself before he’s anywhere near ready to approach someone romantically. Rin is a special case, as she’s written in a VERY rarely used non-mass AU, where Shisui lacks these attributes. Personally I don’t like to use the verse much, but this was an exception.

[ Hyūga Hinata ]

Ship biases: Sasu///Hina, Naru///Hina nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, biromantic / demisexual Established ships: My Sasuke, but none in RP yet (selectively multiship) Hinata, while not as psychologically impaired as the previous two, still has her share of traumas. In ALAS canon, Naruto does not acknowledge her love for him. At first this is quite painful, especially after her fight with Pein and Naruto’s subsequent silence. It leaves her feeling both unlovable, and like a fool who then shuts herself off from others romantically to keep from being hurt again. But post 699, Hinata has grown exponentially in regards to her emotions, and no longer pines after him. That said, I do still enjoy Naru///Hina, just...with more outside-canon development. It’s really the only other ship I’d say has a very good chance of happening. In ALAS, Hinata is paired with my Sasuke by default after a lengthy epilogue arc development. That doesn’t mean she’ll ship with any Sasuke, just like my Sasuke won’t ship with just any Hinata. It’s just a bias I have, but it - again - does not equate to autoshipping. While I don’t have any nOTPs with her that don’t fall under aforementioned rules, I don’t really actively ship her in anything else, either. I used to ship Ita///Hina, but...not so much anymore. It could happen, but it’s not a bias.

[ Hyūga Neji ]

Ship biases: Neji///Ten nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, demisexual / heteroromantic Established ships: NPC Tenten, but none in RP yet (highly selectively multiship) Neji isn’t one I’ve thought about shipping much beyond with Tenten due to his role in ALAS, and their creating Hinode, their son. That’s not to say he’s completely cut off from shipping, but Tenten makes the most narrative sense for the verse. That being said, he’s a very prudish / conservative fellow - he values tradition highly, and it’s not easy to get with him. He wants to do things right, and slow. And his personality is, admittedly, a bit hard to get on with: he’s prideful, snobby, and stubborn to a fault. People he finds superfluous or risque might rub him the wrong way due to these values / traits. That said, I don’t have any nOTPs for him that aren’t covered by the above mentioned rules.

[ Hyūga Hanabi ]

Ship biases: Kono///Hana nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, heteroromantic / heterosexual Established ships: None (selectively multiship) Hanabi isn’t one that’s actually shipped in ALAS - while the story runs until she’s about 32, her romance hasn’t been established yet in the plot, but I do have a bias for shipping her with Konohamaru. There aren’t a lot of established characters her age, so canon options are a bit limited. My Hanabi is a bit precocious and maybe a little flirty, but also takes her role as Hyūga heiress very seriously. She won’t actually date anyone too easily - Konohamaru is from a notable clan, and has a very good reputation as both a shinobi and person. So if she’s to ship with someone, it’d have to be up to her own standards. Doesn’t mean she’s above being playful, but playful doesn’t equate to serious.

[ Uchiha Obito ]

Ship biases: Obi///Rin (as kids) nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, heteroromantic / greysexual Established ships: None (probably unshippable) Obito might actually be first in how difficult I view a muse to be shipped. Admittedly, I write very little Obito in ALAS, and he’s pretty much strictly canon. And as in canon, he’s entirely dedicated to his plan. Any notion of romance or bonds is pretty much dead in him up until his change of heart in the war: and he dies as in canon, so...not exactly shippable in those few hours. It would take an an astronomical event to shake him out of his dedication and determination enough to both take that risk, and break that feeling of numbness and isolation. I really don’t know if it would be possible the way I write him.

[ Uchiha Mikoto ]

Ship biases: Fuga///Miko, Kushi///Miko nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, bicurious (but claiming to be heterosexual / heteroromantic) Established ships: My Fugaku (selectively multiship) By default, I write Mikoto as pretty happy in her marriage to Fugaku. A little strained as he favors Itachi and she favors Sasuke, but she does still very much love him, though also finds him overly strict. That said, I do like the idea of her having a confused crush on Kushina that she very much denies due to personal and clan-related bias of heteronormativity. In an AU where she develops this before her marriage, I could see the ship working with chemistry. Otherwise, I really don’t ship her beyond that, and she’s married by default and would NOT be interested in infidelity.

[ Uchiha Fugaku ]

Ship biases: Fuga///Miko nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, heterosexual / heteroromantic Established ships: My Mikoto (highly selectively multiship) As with Mikoto, I write Fugaku by default in his marriage with her, and really don’t have any other ships for him. MAYBE an AU where his arranged marriage to Manami pans out, but...that would change a LOT as it would mean no Itachi, Sasuke, or Shisui. So it’d be a major AU, but maybe one to pair with a Kushi///Miko ship. Otherwise, he’s a taken man by default.

[ Uchiha Madara ]

Ship biases: None nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, heterosexual / greyromantic Established ships: None (unshippable) Madara is the only muse I write strictly in AUs: NOTHING canon, as I just...don’t really feel any pull to writing him in those verses. While he IS a character in ALAS, I don’t want to RP him in that verse. So far he’s only been written in two AUs: Divine Light, and Of Monsters and Men. In the former, he’s an antagonist with no intention to be romantically involved with anyone. There’s really no narrative room for him to be in a relationship of any kind. In the latter, he’s also a bit of an antagonist. Though not as against being involved with someone, it’s hardly ever for romance. He’ll have flings, but only shallowly to get what he wants: he doesn’t have any intention to have relationships beyond the briefly physical. He has a habit of keeping interesting women around until he gets bored. A bit hard to spice life up when you’re been alive for as long as he has: his attention span has only diminished. Otherwise, he’s mostly a background villain: the equivalent to Giovanni in the Pokémon verse; to Sozin in AtLA; etc. etc. So again...not really the type to have any real kind of ship.

[ ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ]

[ Uchiha Tenkai (Sasu///Hina son)

Ship biases: Uzumaki Akane (kusunokihime) nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, panromantic / pansexual Established ships: None (selectively multiship) Tenkai has been written very little yet, but has hints of a future relationship with Akane in arc three of ALAS. The story only runs until they’re about 14, so no real room for a full-fledged ship. He’s part of the so-called “golden generation” (aka Boruto’s class), so anyone of that age range could have crushes, but...not much point in full ships with kids. That said, as a disclaimer: I don’t read / watch Boruto. But I don’t mind interacting with characters from it. Just know I know almost nothing about the story / characters. My muses will have to get to know yours from scratch. And as he exists in an AU ship, kids from ships that would “break” his parents can’t be written with him (aka Boruto, Himawari, or Sarada).

[ Uchiha Chikyū (Sasu///Hina daughter) ]

Ship biases: N/A nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, biromantic / demisexual Established ships: None (selectively multiship) Chikyū has no established ship in ALAS, and only reaches age 12 by default. So again, mostly just for crushes unless aged up. She’s a little...difficult to get along with, but it’s entirely possible to ship with chemistry.

[ Hyūga Higure ]

Ship biases: Uchiha Fugaku II (kusunokihime) nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, greysexual / heteroromantic Established ships: Fuga////Higu (kusunokihime) (selectively multiship) Higure is a very...special case. She’s by default paired with Fu II, and given her mental health, getting through to her isn’t easy, but...possible. She’s the same age as Mirai, but there’s very few characters in her age range.

[ Hyūga Hinode ]

Ship biases: Uchiha Reika (kusunokihime) nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis male, heterosexual / heteroromantic Established ships: HinoReika (kusunokihime) (selectively multiship) Hinode has an established ship in the verse, but honestly is very open to be shipped with otherwise. He’s a kind-hearted kid and I think would get along with most others pretty easily. He’s in the same year as Tenkai, aka Boruto’s year.

[ Uchiha Manami ]

Ship biases: OC NPC Uchiha Junichi, Fuga///Mana nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, biromantic / bisexual Established ships: Juni///Mana (selectively multiship) Manami, unlike her sister, was entirely accepting about her orientation, but also discreet about it due to clan politics. Though canonly slated to marry Fugaku, she broke it off to let her younger sister (who was in love with him) have her chance instead. Otherwise, she ends up with Shisui’s father, Junichi (Kagami’s son). But she’s honestly very shippable beyond that: could do an AU where she DOES marry Fugaku, or dates other people before / after / instead of her canon marriage to Junichi.

[ Hyūga Hanako ]

Ship biases: Hia///Hana nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, biromantic / demisexual Established ships: Hia///Hana (selectively multiship) Though married to Hiashi in canon, Hanako could be otherwise shipped...but it would mean either having no marriage and therefore no Hinata and Hanabi, or possibly just Hinata and being disgraced after divorcing Hiashi. Otherwise by default she’s married (and dies a few weeks after having Hanabi due to postpartum complications).

[ Hyūga Hotaru ] Ship biases: Hiza///Hota nOTPs: N/A Info: Cis female, heterosexual / heteroromantic Established ships: Hiza///Hota (highly selectively multiship) Honestly shipping with Hotaru would be VERY difficult. Though her marriage was mostly unhappy, it DOES end with Hizashi’s death. But I have a hard time seeing her marry anyone outside the Hyūga bloodline - she’s too traditional / proud to do so. It’d take a LOT to change her mind on that.

[ And that��s it! ALL the muses on this blog. Major props to anyone who read it all: honestly that’s amazing and I really appreciate it. But yeah, this is the rundown of all the muses and how I feel they can / can’t be shipped. I know this probably comes off as really picky, but again: the verses I write are very heavily plotted, and just...between that, and my views of these characters, it’s not an easy thing to ship them. I know that’s disappointing cuz shipping’s a big deal in RP, but...I won’t write something I myself can’t enjoy.

THAT BEING SAID, some DO still have wiggle room! And of course other kinds of bonds - family, platonic, enemies - are possibilities, too. I’d love to write something other than romance to see how these muses interact with others. Romance is just...a difficult thing for a lot of them.

Either way, thank you to anyone who respects these interpretations of these characters. To those who can’t...I hope you find other blog(s) who can give you what you want. But this is how THIS blog will be run. ]

#sylvie speaketh [ ooc ]#long post #muse ship info #*sweats*#pleasedon'thateme #this is just...how i wanna do things #if it puts everyone off #guess i'll just scrap the blog #but if i wanna TRY keeping it open #this is how it's gotta be #i know it sounds super picky but...again:#this blog is highly structured in its verses #it's just how theses muses / narratives are #i'd be happy to rec other blogs if this one won't get you what you want #that said i really DO wanna work on platonic / family / enemy ships here!!!#*grabby hands*

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