#have no idea about whats going to happen. like not even the direction of where things are headed

[kamitv]

Tutor!Nanami who steadily became more of a private fuck for you instead of a tutor and utters things like, “If only you followed directions as well as you take my cock.” while he's fucking you over the very desk you're supposed to be studying on.

Tutor!Nanami who's been sick of how awful you are at following his overly simple directions whenever he tries to go over course materials with you so, he figured he'd have to fuck these lessons into that pretty head of yours.

Tutor!Nanami who wasn't even the one to suggest this kinda thing. He just went along with the way your eyes focused more on the tight blue-collar shirt and khaki-colored slacks he wore on a day to day basis instead of the notes he was reading to you. You made it so painfully obvious that you only agreed to these tutoring sessions so that you'd have an excuse to ogle him.

Tutor!Nanami who, after fucking you that first time, decided to use the sex as more of a reward for every time you studied properly with him. If you could last an entire session without your eyes lingering elsewhere, he'd reward you by laying you out against the desk and eating you out like a man starved.

Tutor!Nanami who groans into your sopping cunt about how, "This is what happens when you focus on your work instead of," pausing, simply to reel back and shoot at messy wad of spit right in between your slippery folds, "Thinkin' about filth all day."

Tutor!Nanami who kisses just about every inch of skin his lips can reach as he fingers you 'til your legs are shaking around his hand and your fingers are curling around his wrist, pushing at him to give you a break.

Your back is arching up off the desk and moan after moan of his name is slipping off of your tongue whilst you writhe beneath the skillful curl and twist of his thick fingers inside you.

Tutor!Nanami who praises you like it second nature to do so, all against your ear with his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and his slightly fogged glasses brushing up against you as he tips his head every which way just to get different looks at you.

Tutor!Nanami who promises to fuck you how you really wanna be fucked as long as you ace your next test. And when you come to him a few days later with that gorgeous A printed atop your paper, he's left to completely and truly live up to his own promises to you.

Tutor!Nanami who's mouth is filthier than you could've ever imagined once he's got you at his place. Fast forward past all the sloppy make-outs that led you to where you are now and here you are standing before him with soaked panties and heavy lungs as he unbuckles that thick belt of his.

Clank after clank and you're nibbling on your lower lip in pure anticipation, awaiting the moment he tugs that belt through its annoying loops and tosses it to the side.

But of course, Tutor!Nanami still has you anxious at every given moment because suddenly he's tipping his head to the side and nodding his chin toward your legs, “Bend over n’ show her to me."

You've never moved faster in your life--tugging off what little clothing you have on, discarding it to the floor and doing exactly as he's instructed you to by bending over his bed and leaving your cunt on full display for the man.

Tutor!Nanami smirks and runs his smooth textured fingers over the curve of your ass first before settling his greedy palms on your hips and leaning over just to whisper to you. "I wanna see if this pussy’s worth taking my cock exactly the way she wants it,” He tells you with a mean emphasis of his straining bulge against your exposed cunt.

You're unintentionally drooling all over him, and no, not by your mouth at all.

It only takes a bit of messy grinds back against him before Tutor!Nanami gets the idea that you're growing impatient. He was trying to drag this whole thing out with you, truly. But how can he possibly do that when you're turning your head back and begging him to fuck you??

Yeah, this is Tutor!Nanami who gives you exactly what you want and feeds your eager cunt with his fat cock after only a short while of listening to you beg for him.

Tutor!Nanami who fucks you better than anyone else ever has, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and your fingers curl into the expensive sheets below.

Tutor!Nanami who's naturally the best at aftercare, and returns to his usual composed and stoic state not too long after fucking you to tears. Treats you the way he did when you first started studying with him and even asks you if you're gonna ace all your tests after this...

Of course, he only asked that because he want you to do well academically. Not because he wants to do this again.

[starlightswitch]

@flashfictionfridayofficial I was thinking about this idea since like Wednesday and the prompt slotted right in. But it's European Figure Skating Championship week and I was running out of time to watch replays, so it took me two days to finish it and to the Antique Prompts list it goes.

First Time For a Few Things

“Mom?” Chloe’s voice from upstairs.

“It’s after midnight!” Nina hadn’t looked at the clock but she had a feel for time when she was painting. If she was up after midnight painting it meant she was in a flow, and her daughter was not supposed to distract her unless it was an emergency.

“I… need… help.”

Nina rested her brush hand. “What kind of help?” she called, a sigh coming out in the middle of the words. She couldn’t imagine an emergency that would put that tone in Chloe’s voice—not urgent distress, more like… embarrassment?

“I think you need to come up here.”

This time the sigh was more quiet, but very, very long. Nina set her work aside and headed upstairs to find her daughter.

The first thing she saw in her daughter’s room was a teenage girl who was not her daughter.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” the girl said. “I don’t even know how I got here, and then that thing is asking Chloe what she wants it to do with me!”

Sure enough, at the other side of the room lurked a familiar frightening figure. And her daughter.

“He just… showed up!” said Chloe.

“The agreement,” said Nina, half to the demon, “was that you would be protected from harm. What harm were you coming to?” There was a little snark in her tone. She had a feeling she would not define it as harm.

“I was, um, just upset about something that happened with her. No big deal.”

Nina looked at the demon, then back at her daughter. She raised her eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“She told me to bring her to her,” the demon put in. Nina didn’t think she was imagining a bit of a whine in his voice.

“You got that thing involved—” said the other girl, staring at Chloe, “—because your—”

“I didn’t get that thing involved!” Chloe insisted. “I don’t know how he got here!”

“But you know how I got here! I got here because you told it to bring me to you. Then what were you going to do?”

“I don’t know!” That tone that might be embarrassment again. “I didn’t think that far!”

“So what happened?” said Nina. “What started this?”

“We don’t have to get into it!” said Chloe.

Nina looked at the other girl.

The girl raised her chin. “Her boyfriend broke up with her,” she said. “And started dating me.”

Nina swept her gaze back to Chloe. “So it wasn’t something she did?” she said.

“I mean,” said Chloe, staring at her feet, “it wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t exist.”

The other girl’s voice peaked. “You were going to tell it you wanted me to not exist?”

“I told you I didn’t think that far!”

Nina took a very deep breath. “You don’t want a guy who doesn’t want you and wants someone else,” she said to her daughter. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“I can’t just not want him!”

“You could try harder than you’re currently trying.”

Chloe went back to staring at her feet and did not say she couldn’t try harder.

After a minute, Nina said, “So now what do we do?”

“Ultimately I answer to you,” said the demon.

Nina was looking at Chloe.

Chloe rubbed her head, her chin in her hand like she was getting a headache. “He should take her back to where she was,” she said sullenly. “And I should try to get over the guy. I guess. And you’re probably going to say this dude can’t take orders from me.”

Nina swallowed a laugh at ‘this dude’. “The intention was to protect you from harm,” she said. “Let me now specify, physical harm. Or, obvious, direct harm. Not getting what you want is not harm, especially when it involves someone else making a choice.”

A boyfriend. It suddenly sank in. Chloe had had a boyfriend. Her daughter’s first boyfriend. Her daughter’s first breakup. She was not being the mother you were supposed to be for that.

But then, your daughter’s first breakup was not supposed to involve her sending demons after people.

“Um, can I get home?” said the girl. “So I can go to bed and not fall asleep in class tomorrow?”

“Take her home,” Chloe said with resignation. “So my mom can get back to work. I distracted her after midnight so I’m already in for it.

The demon looked at Nina. She made a gesture of “go ahead”. The demon and the other girl both vanished.

Chloe glanced at her mom. “You can go back to painting,” she said. “And we can never talk about this again." Before Nina could respond, she added, “Were you ever going to tell me I have some kind of weird, creepy god… goblin?”

That time Nina could not avoid a snort. Carefully casual, she asked in return, “Were you going to tell me you had a boyfriend?”

“I mean, it never really came up.”

Nina raised her eyebrows. “Well. Yeah.”

Chloe snorted.

“You should go to bed. It’s after midnight.”

“You should also go to bed, but you’re not going to.”

“If I’m tired in the morning, that’s my problem. If you’re tired in the morning, that’s also my problem.”

“And my problem.”

“Well, yes.” Nina shut the door, went downstairs, and went back to painting. She hoped she’d gotten away with not explaining, but knowing Chloe she knew that was too much to hope.

This should probably all feel much weirder to her than it felt. Maybe summoning a demon to protect your daughter had set the bar for abnormal pretty high. Or maybe everyone had a different sense of normal after midnight.

Seventeen years ago you summoned a demon to protect your infant daughter. Today, you regret that decision immensely. Demons should NOT be allowed to do the bidding of teenage girls.

[communistkenobi]

struggling to reconcile my dislike of the use of “choice” in relation to transgenderism. sex assignment itself is not a choice and I don’t find it meaningful or helpful to think I “chose” to be transgender. in fact there were many things I “chose” to do prior to transitioning to make this feeling go away and it did not. Choice is further wrapped up in intentionally de-politicised ideas about social action and agency, constantly positioned in opposition to “structure” or “social pressure” or what have you. “Choice” is what happens only in the absence of domination, it is the expression of the “individual” trapped within us all. What this leaves you with is a subject who appears to rise above the power of history, making decisions ‘of his own free will’ in spite of all this violence as a result of, um, well that’s not important! Let’s not look at the law or the state or history to see where these ideas of personal individual freedoms come from or how they are themselves enforced through violence. It’s just an individual acting on his desires! To “choose to be trans” in popular consciousness means to be given the privilege of being free from patriarchal social pressures. And this is a line terfs often use - trans people are reinforcing patriarchy by deluding ourselves into thinking we can “simply choose” to be another gender. I think committing to the idea of choice as a concept and all its attendant ideological baggage (overwhelmingly structured by bourgeois legal frameworks in the popular imaginary) forces you into some deeply flawed analyses of power and domination.

And I likewise hate that the other dominant framework is “born this way/born in the wrong body” because of how it naturalises the very political and violent nature of sex assignment and its embeddedness within state census data, administrative architecture, the pathologisation of sex and desire (all of which are not natural or eternal), and so on. furthermore I deeply respect the position other trans people have when they say that they chose to be transgender - outside of conversations of individual validity, I think that is a politically useful and powerful way to position yourself. Even if we were to accept that being transgender is fully a choice, people would still do it, because being trans is not disgusting or shameful. I am not a sick individual, or a tragedy, or a danger to others, I am transgender and that is an incredibly meaningful and fulfilling part of my life. To frame this as a sexual perversion or life-long condition means reinforcing the idea that transgenderism is a shameful deformity (we have much in common with our disabled & intersex comrades in this regard), that the cissexual body is the exclusive site of beauty and authenticity.

And so this is where I find the idea of autonomy much more useful - while ‘choice’ is situated as a thing that individuals do, autonomy is power that is granted to you. I can’t meaningfully demand choice as a political goal, but I can demand autonomy. I don’t want choice, I want the autonomy to act on my desires, and the way that will happen is through the state provision of free hrt, surgery, name and gender marker changes, and so on. Autonomy feels like a much more productive articulation of “choice” because it necessitates that we think about who and what grants autonomy, for what purposes, in which contexts. Who gives a shit about choices! Transgenderism is not a social position an individual can have in society, it is produced through cissexualism, through state and medical sex assignment, through coercion and pathologisation and violence - all of which can be changed.

As a direct comparison, I don’t think people should be given the “choice” to have an abortion, but the autonomy to do so - sure you can choose to get one, but unless there is the medical, financial, and social infrastructure available to you to act on that decision, then that is not a meaningful choice you can “make.” Abortion being legal (and therefore an action you are granted the ‘choice’ to take) doesn’t mean it is actually realisable as a decision, it just means that whoever already has the power & resources to act on that legality will, and those that don’t, won’t. Who decides which people have those resources and which don’t? Well let’s not worry about that, the important thing is that people have choices!

[aciddrattboyy]

Cαɳ Iƚ Bҽ Oɳҽ Nιɠԋƚ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "megumi knew he needed to stay away from you. you came from two very different worlds. but god, he was having a real hard time staying away."

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Megumi F. x F! Reader ★ Guest Stars: Satoru G. Itadori Y. ★ Run Time: 4.9k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama/Rom] angst, comfort, canon typical violence ★ 01 . 02. [COMPLETED]

▶▶

it took about 20 unanswered calls, 50 unseen messages, and what seemed like a million crying spells for you to finally come to terms with the fact that megumi had left you. he basically broke up with you, came to your doorstep bloodied and injured, slept with you, confessed his love for you multiple times, and still left you. as if it were some typical one night stand. 

you were in shock when you first realized he was gone. shock and denial were the only things you felt while opening your phone with shaky hands. your phone did ring, which offered some sort of solace before his voicemail rang through. 

you didn’t end up leaving your apartment at all that day, trying to come to terms with what really happened. you allowed yourself that one day to mourn the loss of a relationship you at the very least thought was blooming.

but, for better or for worse, time does still go on no matter how heartbroken a person may be. 

the sky was a dusty pink as the sun began to set behind the clouds. walking home from running a couple errands, you sung your favorite song in your head, mind partially occupied with trying to figure out what you would be eating for dinner. you were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the voice of what sounded like a child calling for help. 

you immediately whipped your head towards the sound, heart dropping when your eyes were met with the abandoned building that always gave you a bad feeling. there was a child standing on the sidewalk in front of it, frantically waving his hands. and with only a moment of contemplation, you crossed the street to ask him what was wrong. 

the child was crying and you were quick to ask if he had any injuries. but he only shook his head, explaining that the stray cat he always played with had wandered inside and he was too scared to get her. you slowly turned your gaze to the building, a shiver running down your spine as stared into the dark entrance. 

you knew you could call the cops, wait for them with the kid, and leave as soon as they got here so they could get him home. but seeing this kid hysterical over his missing cat made you feel enough pity to temporarily cloud your judgment. 

you reassured him that you’d go and get his cat before you could even think about it. but now that you were standing in the entrance way of this unnerving building, you were starting to regret everything. glancing back at the boy, you saw him smile at you and all you could do was smile back before walking in.

you immediately turned your phone’s flashlight on, head whipping back and forth as if you were trying to catch the boogeyman before he was able to pounce on you. feeling your whole body shaking and heart beat rapidly, you soon realized this was a very bad idea. 

“here kitty…” your voice was shaky and barely even audible. you knew that if you were a cat you certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to greet your own voice. there was a loud bang and your whole body jerked towards the noise. your flashlight only revealing trash and graffiti. 

you felt yourself calm for only a second before a noise so inhumane rang through your ears. it sounded like garbled speech of a language unknown to you and your legs were frozen as you heard what you thought were footsteps grow closer. your eyes were wide as your head and torso turned slowly in the direction on the noise. and when your flashlight finally revealed what was before you, you were sure you had already been sent to hell as soon as you walked in.

“holy shi-”

-

“so where are we going?”

“another abandoned building. megumi exorcized a curse from inside there before but it seems that another low level one had made its home in there. in all honesty yuji you really didn’t need to come. it’s a grade 2 at most,”

“nah it’s all good, what kinda friend would i be if i passed up an opportunity to hang out with megumi,” yuji nudged megumi’s shoulder then, laughing quietly when he saw megumi’s annoyed expression. 

megumi rested his head against the window, looking outside but not really paying attention as he thought mostly of going back home and sleeping. that’s what he did now most days. go on missions, eat, sleep, repeat except for when yuji and nobara were able to pull him out of his apartment. 

they knew something was up with megumi with him seeming more quiet than usual. along with the fact that he was home a lot more often than in the previous months. they never knew where he was going. but they knew he was going out at the very least.

“woah that place is packed,” yuji exclaimed, tugging on megumi’s sleeve to get his attention. “we should go eat here after we’re done. the food’s gotta be good if there’s so many people,” in the midst of shooting yuji a glare for grabbing onto him, megumi caught a glimpse outside of yuji’s window. his heart immediately sank when he noticed yuji was pointing at the diner you worked at. megumi’s eyebrows furrowed before he quickly looked away, jerking his arm from yuji’s grasp.

“i’m going home after we’re done,” megumi deadpanned as he leaned his head against the window again. it was an attempt to look indifferent to his surroundings even though he was trying to silently will ijichi to take the next turn out of the area. megumi only caught the end of yuji’s grumbling, heart pounding in his ears as ijichi seemed to ignore megumi’s silent pleas and drive around the area. 

to his utter dismay, ijichi did indeed park at the side of the building.

“megumi c’mon,” yuji called from outside the car, sticking his head in a little only to see megumi looking forward at particularly nothing wide bug eyes. “are you okay?” the worry in yuji’s voice is what pulled him back to reality and without looking back at his friend, megumi got out the car. 

yuji watched silently as megumi stalked towards the building, nodding absentmindedly at whatever ijichi was saying before following after him. megumi looked more tense than usual. this confused yuji, not entirely sure why megumi would be so stressed over a low grade curse. after thinking it over, yuji decided that something else was bothering megumi and he would bug him about it after they're done here.

megumi muttered under his breath, summoning one of his divine dogs. he knew based on the amount of cursed energy in the building, he probably didn’t need it. but he was tired. he wanted to go home, sleep, and rid himself of all thoughts of you as if that was ever going to be possible. 

yuji, who was driving himself crazy not knowing what was wrong with his best friend was just about to say something before an ear piercing scream rang out through the building. with one quick look at each other, megumi, his divine dog and yuji ran further into the dark building and towards the sound. 

you were terrified, eyes blurry with tears and head dizzy at the loss of blood as you ran blindly, your only goal being to get away from that thing that was clearly playing with you. you shrieked when you collided with something, almost falling back before a pair of hands grabbed onto your arms and shoved you behind them. 

your eyes opened wide then, a small yelp leaving your licks as you stumbled backwards. despite the darkness of the building, you were able to make out two people standing in front of you in some sort of fighting stance along with what seemed to be a wolf. you were confused to say the least, but your fear overruled that. you tried to pivot, getting ready to sprint towards the exit when your legs buckled beneath you. 

you cried out when your knees hit the concrete flooring, your face turning to desperately look at who you thought were you saviors. that’s when you were able to make out an intense gaze you would recognize anywhere. 

“megumi?!” you scrambled to stand up, tripping over your own feet again before another person gently gripped onto your arms to keep you upright. you looked over at the mystery person, seeing glints of pink hair and equally wide eyes. 

yuji’s eyes flicked between you and megumi only a couple times before he was able to feel your blood now sticking to him. cursing under his breath, he looked back at megumi. 

“she’s bleeding a lot-,” despite the shaky breath, his voice was calm, a stark contrast to how any of you felt. your eyes were glued onto megumi as you watched him nod. 

“get her out of here,” his voice was cold and before you could even comprehend what he said, yuji was apologizing as he picked you up, trying to get you into as much of a comfortable position before he broke into a run. 

“no no no wait- you cant just leave him-,” you thrashed in yuji’s hold, begging and pleading with him to go back and save megumi, desperately trying to warn them that there was something heinous lurking in the depths of those walls. but yuji ignored you, spriting out of the dark structure and down a couple blocks from the premises. 

you wanted to keep fighting, to keep banging your fists and screaming. but your adrenaline rush was coming to an end, and the loss of blood was starting to get to you. soon enough you found yourself falling unconscious in a strangers arms. 

-

you woke up in a hospital you knew wasn’t even remotely close to your city, silently freaking out in the room as we watched the iv pump fluids into your arm. your head was hurting and the change of scenery from what you last remembered was disorienting to say the least.

you had a ton of questions that you were ready to bombard the nurses with just as the door opened. but instead of a kind face and a pair of scrubs, you were met with a tall man with snow white hair and dark sunglasses. you sat up slowly when he greeted you, watching him with wary eyes as he walked to the end of your bed and stopped just in front of it. 

“hi y/n!” he sounded awfully cheerful, the exact opposite of what you were feeling. you just blinked up at him, not sure what to say. “you might still be in shock but that’s okay,” still no response from you. “you were given an emergency blood transfusion by the way,” it remained quiet, yet this didn’t seem to bother the man at all. “the nurses say you should be ready to go home in a couple of days,” you could feel him staring at you through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses, and even though you couldnt see his eyes, his gaze felt intense. “you might need to go to physical therapy for a bit because of your knees but that shouldn’t be too bad… im gojo by the w-”

“where’s megumi,” you cut him off, not missing the way his smile seemed to grow more mischievous at the mention of megumi’s name. 

“megumi’s fine, he can handle himself,” you weren’t entirely sure what this man meant by that, but you found yourself nodding along anyway. 

“and the little boy?”

“safe and sound at home,” gojo was lying through his teeth. based off of megumi’s report of the incident, the little boy you had seen was simply a decoy the curse was using to lure people in. but you didn’t need to know that right now. 

“and the pink haired guy?”

“yuji is also fine,” gojo smiled at you, cocking his head while he watched you. “you dont at all seem concerned with your own condition,”

“you said i was going to be okay,” 

“you believe everyone who tells you that?” gojo watched as your eyes widened, letting out a short laugh. “i’m just kidding, you’ll be okay. i just wanted to check up on you… but is there anything you wanted to talk about?” he waited patiently, wanting to see if you’d bring up what you saw. just like he thought, you kept quiet, your hands gripping the hospital, as your head bowed down. “well that’s alright. rest easy y/n,” you stayed frozen until you heard the door open and close once more, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

with a groan, you let your head fall back against the semi-comfortable pillows, looking up at the tile ceiling as you tried to calm your thoughts. turning your head towards the window, you looked out at the light blue sky, wondering exactly how much time had passed. there was a soft knock at the door and for a second you thought it mightve been the man with the white hair again before realizing that if he didn’t bother knocking the first time he probably wouldn’t the second time either. so, thinking it was a nurse, you sat back up.

“it’s unlocked,” instead of a doctor with a clipboard, there was megumi standing awkwardly at the entranceway. your whole body went stiff when you saw him. a mix of relief, anger, sadness, and hurt swirling through your mind in a very confusing way. 

“can i come in,” his expression was somber, only allowing his eyes to look at you once before forcing them back onto the aluminum floor. you could see eyebags forming on his lower eyelids, he seemed almost out fo it completely. 

“yeah, yeah you can come in,” you couldnt force a small smile this time, watching quietly as he made his way inside the room. neither of you said anything as he slowly rounded the bed. you only opened your mouth to speak when he stood at the side of your bed, only to be startled into silence as he sunk to his knees. 

in a blur of movements, he had taken your hand into both of his as his body began to shake. he leaned his head against the edge of the bed as he spoke, his eyes screwed shut. 

“y/n i am so sorry this happened to you- its all my fault- all my fucking fault- im so sorry- you didnt deserve any of this- im so glad youre okay-” you didn’t know what to do, having megumi sink to his knees next you and rattle on a string of apologies was shocking to say the least. hearing the absolute pain and desperation in his voice almost brought you to tears and despite wanting to be mad at him for leaving you, you couldn’t.

“megumi look at me,” your voice was barely a whisper, but megumi was able to catch it. your breath got caught in your throat when you saw his teary, bloodshot eyes. you brought your free hand to cup his cheek, offering megumi a weary smile as you wiped a stray tear with your thumb. “it’s okay,” you brightened your smile just a bit in an attempt at reassurance. 

with a shaky nod, megumi placed a chaste kiss to your knuckles before standing back up. wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands he looked at you once more. 

“i’m glad you’re okay y/n,” he spoke with the most level voice he could muster despite just crying at your bedside. 

“i’m glad youre okay too i was so scared knowing you were in there only with-,” you stopped yourself short, not entirely sure if you wanted to keep talking. you were certain there was a perfectly logical, scientific explanation for what happened and there wasn’t just a monster lurking in the shadows of the building.

“we can talk about it if you want,” his voice was comforting now, as if completely putting his own feelings and problems on the back burner because you were the priority. “but we don’t have to, not right now,” he was quick to add that to the end, not wanting to force into talking about the moment your world was quite literally turned upside down. you nodded. inhaling deeply and letting your eyes shut for a second.

“i don’t know if you’ll believe this- or what you saw… but i was attacked by a um…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid at thought of saying monster. for a moment the thought of tricking yourself into thinking you made the whole thing up. 

“a curse,”

“what?” your eyebrows furrowed when megumi finished your sentence for you. he sighed softly, as if he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually telling you about this when this very thing was the reason he left in the first place. 

“a curse, an accumulation of cursed energy coming from people’s negative emotions. just like how you felt uneasy about that building there must’ve been other people who felt the same too. those negative emotions associated with the building is what gave birth to the curse,” megumi was worried that he just laid too much information on you and when he saw you laugh nervously he knew for a fact he did. 

“i dont know what happened in there but we must be having a shared delusion or something,” you shook your head, a small laugh bubbling from your lips despite finding absolutely nothing funny. you averted megumi’s gaze, not wanting to look at his straight face and come to terms that theres things like that just roaming around the earth you live on. 

“so how do you know all of that,” you asked as you squeezed your eyes shut, not really wanting to know the answer but asking anyways,

“im a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s my job to exorcize curses,” his voice remaining monotone was tripping you out; making it harder to pretend this is all just some sick joke- maybe even just a social experiment gone too far. but then you felt a pang of hurt, if it really was a social experiment then why had megumi sunk to his knees and cried against your hand. you quickly glanced at him just to make sure he was in fact even real. his eyes were puffy and red and you knew his cries were definitely were real.

“why don’t more people know about this,” you countered as if a part of your brain was still trying to catch megumi in a lie.

“well for the most part the jujutsu world works in secret… and most regular people can’t even see curses unless in a life or death situation,”

“how fucking convenient,” you scoffed, shaking your head again in disbelief.

“i know this is a lot,” megumi started, a look of worry and concern on his face. “like i said earlier, we don’t have to talk about it right now- or ever for that matter. you can get better and go back home. they’re going to start demolishing the building soon so you won’t have to worry about it anymore,” 

“why didn’t you tell me about all of this sooner,” your tongue poked your the inside of your cheek as you waited for his response, keeping your eyes on your sheets. 

“i wasn’t planning on telling you ever,” his answer was blunt and although you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way, his words still stung a bit. 

“why not?”

“because i didn’t want to bring you into this world-”

“look where the fuck i am now megumi,” you snapped your head towards him, tears welling in your eyes as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you were keeping at bay since you woke up. “i almost fucking died and i spent my last moments awake thinking that you were going to die,” the tears were flowing down your cheeks in a nonstop stream now, snot dripping down your nose before you burried your face in your hands. “you dont get to decide which world i live in just because you think its best-”

megumi was effectively rendered motionless, everything he was trying to keep from happening unfolding right in front of his very eyes. he began to wonder what wouldve happened if he had stayed that night and spilled his guts to you instead of leaving. he felt like a coward in that moment while listening to your sobs echo through the room. 

“i…” his voice trailed off, he himself not even sure what to say. instead he sat on the very edge of the bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you into an embrace as you continued to weep. “i’m sorry,” he whispered as you melted into his arms, your iv was pressing against your arm in a slightly uncomfortable manner. but the feeling of being held was keeping you distracted.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, but the room was starting to darken along with the sky outside when you finally lifted your head. you sniffled quietly as you wiped at your eyes. you took your time, not entirely ready to look at megumi feeling as embarrassed as you were. 

you shivered when you felt megumi’s hand smooth up your arm and he immediately paused. you could feel him looking at you and finally found the courage to look back at him. it seemed like a thousand unspoken words were communicated between the two of you just from looking into each others eyes.

the moment you caught megumi’s eyes flick to your lips, you pressed your mouth against his, squeezing your eyes shut tightly while you poured all of your emotions into the kiss. 

megumi was quick to card his hands in your hard, kissing you just as deeply. you held onto him tightly, hands shaking slightly as if you were scared he was going to evaporate right then and there. 

“you cant leave again,” you broke the kiss solely to say this. you looked up at him with desperate eyes. “megumi you cant leave me again,” you repeated, feeling tears well in your eyes once more at the thought of him taking off again. seeing the tears collecting at your eyelashes, megumi couldn’t help but place one more firm kiss to your lips. 

“never,” his gaze was  intense as he let his hands drop from your hair, one hand squeezing your arm reassuringly. “i’m never leaving again,” seeing the smile on your face cause one to spread on his as well, laughing lightly when he heard you giggle. 

“i’m holding you to that,” you cocked an eyebrow only for him to pepper your face with kisses until you were laughing squirming against him. he pressed one final kiss to your cheek, opening his mouth to say something before the door knocked. with one last glance at you, megumi got up to open the door. 

megumi was greeted with a profusely blushing yuji on the other side when he opened the door. his eyes widened when he saw yuji’s sheepish grin. 

“sorry i didn’t know when it would be a good time to knock,” he whispered behind his hand, eyes flicking over to you. once the two of you made eye contact your face lit up slightly. 

“yuji i swear to god if you say anything-”

“pink hair guy!” you exclaimed, pointing to yuji from your bed. yuji taking this perfect opportunity to get megumi off his back, waved to you. “come in- oh wait- megumi,” you made a face at megumi, hoping you’d understand your question.

“yes he knows, he’s a sorcerer too,” megumi nodded, seeming displeased with this whole situation. but seeing you smile made him go soft all over again. 

“oh okay good! come in come in!” you motioned for yuji to come in the room, desperately wanting to thank him and apologize for the night before. yuji glanced at megumi as if he was scared to pass through without his permission. but when megumi nodded, yuji smiled softly.

“ah gojo said he wanted to talk to you, that’s why i came,” yuji’s smile only faltered for a second, a second you weren’t able to catch. you did however, not miss megumi walking out the door.

“hey wait megumi where’re you going?” your eyes grew wide with alarm and megumi felt a pang of guilt for being the one to cause that. 

“i just have to go talk to someone, i’ll be back. i promise,” he offered you one last smile before walking out and closing the door behind him. once the door had closed, you and yuji made eye contact for only a second before you were spewing apologies and gratitude. 

“i am so sorry for hitting you when you were trying to save me- also thank you so much for that genuinely,” you had a light smile on your face and yuji was glad to see it considering it was a complete contrast to the bloody, crying, screaming mess you were about twenty-four hours ago. 

“no need to apologize it’s completely okay!” he smiled back at you and for a moment it seemed innocent until he started wiggling his eyebrows at you. “so what’s goin’ on with you and megumi?”

-

“megumi there you are!” gojo smacked a hand onto his chest as he pretended to be relieved to see him once more. megumi rolled his eyes, walking over to gojo with his hands in his pockets. 

“what did you want to talk about?”

“your girlfriend!” megumi felt his eye twitch, not entirely sure where this was going. instead of giving into gojo’s teasing, he silently waited for him to continue. “i take it you told her about the jujutsu world,”

“something like that,”

“m’kay,” gojo’s smile never faltered. “you’re gonna have to tell her everything eventually, no one would be satisfied with only knowing bits and pieces of an unknown world. obviously not today while she’s still processing. but you’ll have to eventually,”

“i already know that,” megumi did in fact already know he’d have to explain even the ugliest parts to you, having know you long enough to know you wouldn’t be satisfied withh half ass answers. but he didn’t have to worry about it. 

“okay good,” gojo paused for a second and megumi thought maybe he was done talking. he was wrong. “also don’t mess this up considering this might be the first and last woman who would want to put up with your brooding,” gojo laughed at his own teasing, is laughing growing even louder when megumi flipped him off before walking away.

“go home youre disturbing the other patients,” he didn’t wait for gojo’s response, speed walking down the hall with his only goal being to be back with you. there was a certain weight lifted off of his shoulders now that you had knowledge on his world, albeit limited, but still. you knew enough for now and he was content. 

he could hear you and yuji giggling about something from down the hall. he could feel his heart warm up at the sound of your laughs. opening the door, he saw yuji sitting on a chair that was placed against the window and you leaning forward on your elbows as you talked. but when you saw megumi enter the room you immediately sat up, your smile growing. 

“yay youre back! yuji was just telling me about human earthworm 4!” you and yuji were laughing again and he couldnt help but smile as he sat back down on the edge of your bed next to you. you immediately leaned your head against his shoulder, pressing a small kiss on his jaw. megumi immediately started to blush but from where you were positioned, you couldnt see him throw daggers at yuji with his eyes, silently daring him to laugh. 

“this is all he talks about by the way,” megumi murmured, smiling when he heard you laugh. 

“well this is the first time i’m hearing about it so yuji finish explaining it to me,”

“can do! so then theyre in this cabin,”

-

“okay so its organized by grades?”

“yes they are,”

“four being the weakest and special grade being the strongest,”

“yep thats how it works,” you cocked an eyebrow at megumi as the two of you sat on your couch eating takeout. he wasn’t sure what you were going to ask next but he was prepared to answer to the best of his ability.

“so what grade was the curse that attacked me?”

“a grade two at most,” he answered quicky before bringing his drink to his mouth.

“oh my god wait what grade are you,” you leaned forward slightly, eyes widening as you anticipated his answer. he placed his drink down before responding, eyes seemingly fixated on his food.

“special grade,”

“woah youre so strong!! i bet the curse in the abandoned building was easy to exorcize huh?!” megumi felt his face heat up at your praise. ears, cheeks, and neck growing red while you continued to ramble about how strong he must be. “aw megumi you’re all red are you embarrassed,” you poked his nose, giggled when he scrunched it. 

“eat your food,” was all he responded with, pointing his fork at your food before going back to eating his. you sighed dramatically before shoving a fork full in your mouth. 

“okay okay no more questions i promise,” you raised your hand as if you were reciting a pledge, laughing when you saw megumi roll his eyes.

“lets put on a movie then,”

“can we watch human earthworm 4?!”

“oh my god,”

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[lvrgurlblobbu]

maybe next time?

college!zayne x fem!reader

⤿ CW: pure fluff!

⤿ word count: 2.3k

⤿ second part of code love series | previous part

ao3.

It’s been a week since you last saw Zayne, you’ve been going to the cafe where you saw him for the first time hoping that you’ll come across him again. But in the span of one week, you never saw him again.

What makes it worse is that you didn’t even know his major. You have no way of knowing where to look. The university’s campus is large, and without a clue as to where he spends his time, you feel like you’re grasping at straws. If only you had asked him just one more question, something, anything that could’ve given you a direction.

Today, though, was different. Your professor dismissed the class early due to an urgent meeting, leaving you with an unexpected chunk of free time. The lecture hall empties quickly, with students chatting amongst themselves and heading off to their next commitments. You sit there for a moment, gathering your things, the familiar hum of idle conversation swirling around you, but your thoughts remain focused elsewhere. You sling your bag over your shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. Another day of fruitless searching. It’s starting to feel hopeless, like you’re just waiting for a chance that might never come.

Just as you’re about to leave, a voice calls out from behind you.

“Still thinking about that guy?”

You turn to see your friend Tara and Simone leaning against one of the desks, smirking knowingly. They were the only one you had confided in about Zayne—the stranger who had somehow left an imprint on your mind.

You hesitate before answering, but Simone doesn’t need a response. She roll her eyes playfully. “You’re down bad.”

You huff, shaking your head. “I just… I want to see him again.”

Tara crosses her arms. “Then maybe it’s time to change your strategy. You’ve been going to the same café all week. What if he only went there one time?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to you before. Had you been limiting yourself? You rack your brain for any other places Zayne could frequent. But with so little information about him, it feels like searching for a needle in a haystack.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” you ask, raising a brow.

Your friends grin. “We ask around.”

Your heart skips a beat at the idea. It’s bold—maybe even a little embarrassing—but if it means finding Zayne, it just might be worth a shot.

“Oh Zayne! Yes, he's currently a sophomore majoring in Medical Biology.” A student said, which name is Greyson. As you looked at Greyson’s features, you remembered that he’s the colleague that Zayne was talking to in the cafeteria. He also happens to be Zayne’s close friend and a classmate of his.

“Is he around? Can we talk to him?” Tara asked, looking very much hopeful. But when Greyson scratched the back of his head as he looked at the three of you, you instantly knew his answer.

“About that, he’s currently busy with his lab work and volunteer hours at the hospital,” Greyson said apologetically. “He’s been swamped lately, so he doesn’t have much free time.”

Your heart sinks a little at the news. So that’s why you haven’t seen him. Still, at least now you know his major and have a better idea of where he spends his time.

Tara, ever the determined one, steps forward. “Do you know when he might be free?”

Greyson hesitates for a moment before sighing. ��Honestly, he barely has time to breathe these days. But…” He glances at you, his expression thoughtful. “If you’re really looking for him, he usually hangs around the Medical Biology study lounge when he has a break.”

Your heart leaps at that. A lead.

“Where is it?” you ask immediately.

Greyson chuckles. “It’s in the West Science Building, second floor. But like I said, he’s really busy, so don’t get your hopes up too much.”

You nod, gripping the strap of your bag. Even if there’s only a small chance, you’re not giving up now.

Tara nudges you with a smirk. “Well? What are we waiting for?”

With renewed determination, you and your friends head toward the West Science Building, hoping that this time, luck is on your side.

“Luck is not on our side.” Simone mumbled as you sat at the couch, you looked everywhere in the lounge hoping for Zayne but it seems like he’s not here.

You sigh, slumping slightly into the couch. So close, yet still no sign of him.

Tara crosses her arms. “Maybe he’s just not here right now,” she suggests. “We could wait a little longer.”

Simone groans, stretching her legs out. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. What if we just missed him?”

The thought makes your stomach sink. You glance around the study lounge again—students are scattered at different tables, some buried in textbooks, others quietly discussing notes. But none of them are him.

Then, your phone suddenly received a notification from your sister telling you to come home immediately.

“Sorry girls, I gotta go.” You said as you stood up, Tara and Simone looking at you confused.

“Go where?” Tara asked.

“My sister just texted me. She says I need to come home right away,” you explain, shoving your phone into your pocket and grabbing your bag.

“But what about Zayne? We haven’t found him, and maybe he’ll come around here in the lounge after a minute or two.”

You hesitate, glancing toward the entrance of the lounge. Tara has a point—Zayne could show up any minute, and if you leave now, you might miss your chance to talk to him.

“I know,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “But my sister’s message sounded urgent. I can’t just ignore it.”

Simone shifts in her seat, thoughtful. “Do you want us to stay here and wait for Zayne? We can let you know if he shows up.”

“It’s totally up to you two, but I suggest for the both of you to head home.” You chuckled, “Bye girls, see you tomorrow!”

You stepped out of the lounge and made your way to the elevator, only to find a long line of students waiting. With a heavy sigh, you decided to take the stairs instead, knowing it would be faster. As you arrived at the building’s lobby, you roamed your eyes around for the last time hoping to see Zayne but then again, you failed.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you left the University, you’re sitting at the window seat of the bus as you rode your way home, earphones attached to your ears, but your mind is miles away. The hum of the bus and the steady rhythm of the wheels on the pavement should be comforting, but instead, it feels like the world outside is just another blur—like you're disconnected from everything around you.

Then, you suddenly received a notification from your friends.

Tara: (Name)! Guess who we saw! **see attached photo**

Your heart leaps into your throat as soon as the image loads. There, in the photo, is Zayne—just as you remember him, but somehow, this feels different. He’s walking into the lounge, a stack of books in his arms, looking completely absorbed in whatever conversation he's having with his colleagues. The familiar serious look is on his face, not the relaxed version from the café, but something more focused, more… composed. It’s strange to see him like this, like he’s someone else entirely, yet still undeniably him.

Simone: Omg, he’s at the lounge right now!!! Are you seeing this??? Tara: You better come quickly!

You chuckled at their message, as much as you wanted to get off the next stop to sprint to your University, your sister needs you at home.

You: Sorry girls, need to go home TT Tara: That’s alright! We got you ;)

You smile a little, the lighthearted tone of her message easing some of the tension. They know how much this means to you, and even though you can’t act on it right now, at least they’ve got your back. You’re grateful for their encouragement.

Simone: Okay, I just did the job.

You frown slightly, your fingers still hovering over your phone as you try to figure out how to respond to Simone’s message. There’s something in her tone that makes you pause, like she knows something you don’t. Maybe it’s just her way of teasing you, or maybe she’s genuinely onto something. Either way, the thought lingers in your mind as you stare at the screen for just a moment longer, but then you hear the bus driver announce your stop.

With a soft sigh, you slide your phone into your pocket, knowing you’ll have to pick this up later. You grab your things and step off the bus, the cool air immediately hitting your face as you make your way down the familiar streets toward home. Your mind is still buzzing with thoughts of Zayne, and despite the fact that you’re heading in the opposite direction now, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to change. The moment might not be today, but the universe has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.

The walk home is quiet, your footsteps the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. You pull your jacket a little tighter around you, your pace slow but steady, as you process everything that happened today.

You’ve finally arrived home, the familiar scent wraps around you, but before you can even settle into the moment, you hear the familiar voice of your sister coming from her room.

“Ugh, I just don’t know what to wear!” she calls out, frustration lacing her tone.

You smile to yourself. It’s always something with her, but at least it’s a distraction from your earlier thoughts. You drop your bag by the door and head toward her room. As you approach, you see her standing in front of her full-length mirror, holding up two completely different outfits—one casual, one more dressed-up—looking at herself with a furrowed brow.

After a few changes, your sister finally settled with the outfit she’s going to wear and immediately apologized for rushing you to come home. You just smiled at her and with a few finishing touches, she kissed your cheek for goodbye and she left.

You sit back on the couch, letting out a soft sigh. There’s a part of you that still feels a little restless, like you’re waiting for something to happen, something to change. It’s hard to shake off the idea of Zayne from earlier, the thought of seeing him again so close yet so far. But for now, there’s nothing to do but let things unfold.

You pull out your phone, checking the group chat once more. Simone’s last message is still there, waiting for you to dive into whatever she might have been teasing about. You smile to yourself, letting the tiny spark of curiosity push you to reply.

You were about to reply when a sudden text message from an unknown number caught your attention. Your heart skips a beat when you see the message from an unknown number. For a moment, you're frozen, unsure of what to expect. The familiar rush of excitement bubbles up, but you're also trying to stay grounded, telling yourself it could be anything.

You tap the message open, and the first thing you see is a simple text:

“Hey, it's Zayne. I know this might be a bit random, but Simone gave me your number. I hope that’s alright.”

Zayne. Zayne.

And then, Simone sent another message on your groupchat.

Simone: You’re welcome ;))

You giggled at her answer, you sent a reply to their message before opening your conversation with Zayne.

You: Hey, Zayne! Of course, that’s totally fine. It’s nice to hear from you!

You bite your nail absentmindedly, the seconds feeling like they stretch longer than usual as you wait for Zayne's response. Your thumb hovers over your phone, checking the time, then glancing back at the screen, expecting the little bubbles to pop up any second. The anticipation feels almost unbearable—like this could be the moment where something shifts, or maybe it’ll fizzle out. You have no idea, but you really hope it’s the former.

You’re starting to second-guess everything, wondering if your reply sounded too casual, too eager, or even too boring. Then your phone buzzes, breaking the silence, and you almost jump in surprise.

Zayne’s reply lights up the screen:

Zayne: Glad to hear that! I’ve been a bit busy with school stuff, but I was hoping we could meet up soon. Maybe we can actually schedule our next meet up or date?

Date. Date.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of date. You stare at the message, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves wash over you. It’s like he’s finally saying what you’ve both been dancing around, but now that it's out in the open, the weight of it is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

Date. The word keeps echoing in your head as you read the message over again, your thumb hovering over the reply button. He wants to meet up soon. He wants to actually schedule something. This isn’t just a passing interest anymore. He’s serious about wanting to see you.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus and not overthink. You quickly type your reply, making sure to keep it light but still show that you’re just as excited as he seems.

You: That sounds awesome! I’d love to. Just let me know when you're free, and we’ll make it happen!

You smile as you send it, feeling a little giddy but also relieved. There’s no turning back now—you’re both on the same page, and it feels like the start of something exciting. You can’t help but feel a little thrill at the thought of seeing him again, but for now, all you can do is wait for his reply and hope that this “date” really does come together.

dividers by: @dollywons

[samhadjblog2]

Yes stories are about character's confronting one another however the confrontation wasn't some "Uniting against a common enemy" fight. And more like it was character's going of on there own moral values and how a lot of these values clashes with one another. Sometime they agree on things other times they clash with one another. However the show was never going into a direction where they all unite to fight a common enemy.

To say it was always going to end that is far from the truth. It was in the direction of all of these characters.We don't even get the"Uniting against a common enemy" as the main focus of the show until EP.8 while the first seven episodes were (more or less) character focused.

Silco and Jayce's deal wasn't built on "Noxian" invaders it was built on Jayce wanting to reach after he saw how his own violent actions led to a child getting killed. Yes he talked about "the threats of the rune-wars" and how it "brought the city together". However its not a form of "Foreshadowing" its a means of saying this city is built on "Progress" and that they should reach out for peace. I remember what happened. I also remember that the peace Silco wasn't some easy thing and in turn was only going to lead to more conflict. Also its just "one scene". And we get no other scene like this before the "Final fight" that indicates the cities will unite against a common foe.

Vi's comment about "Oil and Water" its only referring to her Caitlyn. Yes there is a lot of class implications towards it however the implication alone didn't mean that it foreshadowed Piltover and Zaun 'Unite against a common foe". Because every-time two characters work together its through the means of a common "Interpersonal goal". Vi and Caitlyn they both had different goals "Caitlyn" wanted to figure out what happened during the progress day attack meanwhile "Vi" wanted to go in and find her sister and get back at Silco. And as the story went on they gradually built a on bond. Viktor and Jayce worked together to use Hex-tech to help people, although they had various different ideas of "how" to use Hex-tech. Vi and Jinx unite to get Warwick, while at the same time salvaging there broken relationship. And that's not something that can be replicated with "Two cities" because that's too large scale to unite through "Interpersonal goals" (More on that later).

Also yes I'm aware of "What could've been" its a sad moment and something more beautiful and poignant then what the Season 2 finale ever was. However It's also important to note that the peace wasn't perfect and Silco had a lot of second thoughts on trying to go through with it. And that the council also were very much against this whole deal. And that's the tragedy of "What could've been" its a dead deal, Piltover and Zaun aren't able to reunite and there will be long term fractures. Similar to how Jinx cut ties with Vi and that there is no going back to there family. That is what S1 sets up, that there is no going back.

Now the show didn't have to end with Piltover and Zaun holding hands and making peace immediately however having the characters come against a common enemy is such a cheap way to end the show. It means that the conflict doesn't resolve by having all that what happened between Piltover and Zaun being acknowledge or addressed. So while yes the epilogue "Alludes to" the work needing to be done. However the politics stop being relevant after episode 4 and then suddenly in episode 8 we have this "Big world ending threat" that just has the character's put aside there differences. And that's just not compelling.

And this is something that the writers acknowledge as un-engaging. Here's a statement from Christian Linke.

"Many writers talk about being "character driven" without actually writing character driven stories. If you ask your hero whether or not they well help save the world from an alien invasion, the answer always is "yes duh". Thus the character doesn't REALLY have a decision to make. The sole question that remains is "HOW are they gonna overcome their obstacles?"--which is entertaining, but it really doesn't drive the story forward with full autonomy. I think Alex and I gravitate towards stories that leave characters with or even impossible choices."

Here's another quote from Amanda Overton.

"I think of this in terms of what a character hopes and fears. You have to know what these are (and make sure the audience knows too) and them to tug a character towards impossible decisions. I also think you have to be able to relate to these hopes and fears. As Christian mentioned, the fear of dying in an alien invasion isn't relatable. Neither is the hope of winning a civil war (for most people), what made Silco's quest for Zaun's freedom relatable is that it was rooted in the his hope that he could win back his brother Vander's resect. And without his respect, Silco feared he was the "dirty little thing" his station in life always ascribed to him. Fearing you aren't good enough, and craving respect from family are deeply relatable emotions, This is what a "character driven story" means to me.

Source: https://old.reddit.com/r/arcane/comments/yp9d4b/s1_spoilers_were_christian_linke_and_alex_yee/ivnapve/?context=3

So this here is why so many people have issue with this finale. It removes all meaningful choice from the two cities and "forces them" to work together. So nothing about this finale of "Two cities uniting against a common enemy" have any of the character's make any meaningful goals in the end and more like their working together out of moral obligation. This has been a huge problem with season 2

It introduces big grand out their things such as grand-time loops, alternate realities/multiverse, the Black Rose,Hive minds ,end of the world stakes all of which takes away from the more grounded interpersonal stakes that were established in the first season. On top of that you can't really juggle all of these plot points in 9 episode season without feeling bloated.

I get the whole "I'm the dirt under your nails" comment and how they are saying "There is still work to be done". However the finale had nothing to do with the "Class conflict", the only "real reference to the cities moving forward is Sevika having a seat on the council." Thats just too brief and is the only reference to the conflict between Piltover and Zaun we get after they were dropped in episode 4. And so it feels less like a meaningful step forward and more like a weak resolution. Yes 'No one wins wars". However this really isn't "A war" its just a copy of"Avenger's age of Ultron" generic and un-engaging.

“What happened to rebel Vi? Season 2 destroyed her character!”

“What happened to rebel Vi” is that Vander took her to the bridge where her parents died in his revolution and asked her what she was willing to lose. Then she meets Cait who is gentle and kind while still being tough and it makes her rethink how she sees topside. When Jinx tells her she changed too, that’s what she’s talking about.

I’m sorry if you thought Vi was going to be a topside-hating revolutionary in Season 2, but that’s clearly not where her character arc was going. Remember how she forced her way between Ekko and Cait? It seemed very straightforward that was the role her character was taking on.

I feel similar about people who act like the show was betraying its premise because it ended with reconciliation/Zaun and Piltover working together. Again, the fact that two of the most important relationships were between characters from both sides and that they made a point of talking about Zaun and Piltover first coming together against a common enemy was a pretty clear indicator that was the plan.

Now, I get being annoyed that that was what they chose to do. You don’t have to love the creative decisions of media, just like media doesn’t have to compromise its creative direction to satisfy you. But not liking that they went that direction is not the same as the show having bad writing or engaging in character assassination.

Everything Vi did in season 2 was very much in character with how she changed and who she became throughout Season 1. Hell, she used enforcers and Hextech to raid Shimmer facilities before Commander Kiramman ever threw on a beret. So, yes, actually wearing the uniform was a huge and complicated decision that she was definitely not happy about, but it also fell in line with what she had been doing.

There’s meat for another post at some point about the three different Zaun/enforcer partnerships we see in the show: Vander/Greyson, Silco/Marcus, and Cait/Vi; but I’m not going to go into that now.

TLDR: “Rebel Vi” who wants to fight all of topside hasn’t existed since the end of the second episode of the show.

Editing to add that Vi doesn’t see attacking Chem Barons as attacking Zaun; she’s taking down the people who are destroying Zaun.

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

TexAid returns and comes with the gore! Whooo!

They were all fucking insane.

First Aid staggered down the hallway armed with nothing but the flare gun they kept in their cockpits for emergencies. He didn’t know how much damage this would even do – it would probably hurt him more when he fired it than it ever would against a quintesson, but he had to hold some form of hope. If he didn’t have hope, he had nothing.

Vortex was offline. His last words to him still echoed in his head, bumping around between his ears and ringing in his ears.

GET LOST. I HOPE YOU DIE.

Stupid idiot. Stupid, stupid. First Aid wiped his face. He didn’t know if he was wiping away sweat, or if they were tears. He could feel that he was dying. He didn’t need to make any stupid grand gestures to try and hide it, to get him to unplug before he felt his core splutter out. He knew that if he’d stayed connected, there was every chance that he’d die too. He knew it, he wasn’t- he wasn’t a fool. He knew where to get help and he wasn’t about to go ahead and die before he’d even tried.

Damn it. God damn it. He was so, so terribly fucked.

The usual tell for a quintesson being in the vicinity was the smell of one. It hit the back of the throat and burned like alkali, clawing through the soft tissues of the nose. It tingled in the lungs, popping and pinging against neurons in the brain, activating the fight or flight instinct more powerfully than anything had before. And he was bathing in it right now. Each direction felt exactly the same, he didn’t know if they were just behind closed doors, or were stood waiting for him around a corner, and he didn’t know what scared him more – the fact he was so vulnerable, or the fact that Vortex wouldn’t even know.

They were all fucking insane. Each and every one of them in their command structure. Nobody seemed willing to acknowledge what was happening right now – in what fucking world was it fine to leave a medic and a pop idol in a fucking enemy space ship? To tell them that they were on their own, that they’d figure it out? That their mechs would be more than enough? Because they weren’t. He’d last seen Blast Off and Cosmos getting launched off the starboard port by a cannon and Vortex was in a crumpled heap in the storage room he’d managed to stagger him into, totally inoperable. He was on his own, nobody was coming to help, and he was furious. He had no idea what he was meant to fucking do, and no doubt if he miraculously made it back, they’d grill him and berate him for not doing enough. For not doing more than survive. For not having any ideas or plans magically pop into his brain whilst he tried not to think about the state of Vortex and the impending sense of doom that fell upon him, crushing him under its weight. He was going to die out here, and all he could think about was how pissed he was about it.

He didn’t know the first thing about mechanics or engineering or how he was built, but fuck if that didn’t stop him from trying. The two repair droids who Vortex had reprogrammed and kept stashed in his shoulder were hard at work when he’d managed to drag back his first offering. He didn’t know what it was, but it looked mechanical and it looked useful, and he vaguely recognised some of the bits inside it, so that had to count for something, right?

The droids seemed to think so. They were scavenging from it before he’d even put it down.

His third trip had him panting and shaking and almost vomiting from exhaustion. He dry heaved in the corner, coughing and cramping as his body tried to empty itself of a toxin that wasn’t there. Is the air poisoning me? He wiped his mouth and swallowed, legs shaking as he steeled himself for what was to come next. He’d need to go and help with the repairs. The droids weren’t fast enough, they were squabbling – if he could just get the important parts in place, he’d stop that leak and protect his core. If the core was protected, he stood a better chance of getting him back to Earth in a state they could properly repair him in.

Toolkit in hand, he stood by the gaping hole in his abdomen. The core whirred, visible tendrils of light and energy reaching out towards him. His eyes flew over the wreckage, assessing what could be salvaged. The droids helpfully began putting the disassembled parts at his feet, ready for the human to deal with it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he swallowed nervously.

He couldn’t get this wrong. He’d never forgive himself if he did, and he didn’t want to die like this. Vortex had promised him his death – he couldn’t deny him that.

It took over an hour until he could get the big, red visor to flick online, Vortex’s systems groaning and slowly whirring as he booted back up again. The crackle was audible, electricity arcing over his frame.

“You’re awake!” First Aid exclaimed in delight, slumping down to his knees in exhaustion. “Oh, Tex, I am so glad-”

His hand slammed down just behind him, and First Aid froze as the sudden blazing heat registered, the head-splitting sound of a quintesson gun being fired resonating inside of the cavity of Vortex’s abdomen.

“I thought I told you to go fuck yourself.” Vortex’s voice sounded in his helmet, and First Aid could have sobbed.

“You actually told me to die.” He corrected. “I guess you didn’t want me dead that badly.”

“I didn’t want them to shoot my core, actually. Now, what’s your plan with the squishy?”

“Uhm.” First Aid looked down at the flare gun on his hip. “I guess shoot them?”

Vortex’s laugh sounded pained, and his helm thunked back down against the floor.

“Oh, we are so dead.”

He heard something bigger and heavier behind him, and a familiar choom. Gasping, he threw his head around, peering around Vortex’s arm-

“Blast Off!” He leaned against Vortex’s too-hot arm, not caring how it burned him through his gloves and the tingle of it against his cheeks. “Vortex! They survived!”

“Yippie.” He sarcastically replied.

First Aid’s eyes fell to the alien corpse. Fresh. Ready for harvesting. An idea slowly formulated in his mind as he looked between Vortex and the body.

“Hey, listen… I’ve got an idea.”

“Does it involve filling me with corpse organs?”

“You make it sound so weird.” First Aid grimaced. “I’m just saying… I think I can splice your two systems together. Just enough to get us back to Earth.”

“I’m game if you are.” He softly swore in Ukrainian. “As soon as we get back, I’m killing the lot of them.”

“I’ll try and find you a new gun too, then.”

“You know the way to my heart, darling.”

First Aid stood and waved up to Blast Off, gesturing for Cosmos to come down. Blast Off knelt, visor opening, and Cosmos slipped out, carefully climbing down before sprinting over to him.

“Oh, thank god you’re both still alive!” She hugged him tightly. First Aid awkwardly patted her back.

“Not for long if we can’t get that corpse over here. Can you guys move it for us? Vortex’s nervous system was severed, he can’t move his legs.”

“What?” She pulled away, holding his shoulders tightly as she frowned. “What do you want that for?”

“I want its spine.” First Aid said matter of factly.

Cosmos grimaced. “Its… spine? Alright.” She nodded firmly, expression setting into determination. “We’ll help.”

Work went much more quickly when a mech was involved. Cosmos watched and handed him tools when it came to the fine-tuning, Blast Off sat back and silently watching. First Aid got the impression that he hadn’t figured out how to move independently yet – a feat Vortex had only managed with time and effort himself. So he silently watched them instead. He wondered what he was thinking.

“Is… is he okay?” He quietly asked Vortex when he was deep in his internals and Cosmos was out of ear shot.

“He’s fine.” Vortex replied a bit too quickly. “Just adjusting.”

He left it at that. Vortex was sounding weak, his voice strained. He double and triple checked his work before he went to make the final connection, the one that would have Vortex’s system finally shake hands with that of the quintessons. And with that, he quickly scrambled out to look at him and assess his work.

The organic flesh twitched and glowed a sickly blue colour. Black oil smeared and pooled on the ground, pearlescent and pungent.

“How’re you feeling, Vortex?” First Aid nervously asked. Blue was bleeding into the red of his visor, a bright toxic blue that was so much like the blood the aliens bled. He didn’t reply, and all he heard over their comm link was static.

“What’s going on?” Cosmos asked. “Why is he blue?”

“I don’t know.” First Aid frowned. “He’s not speaking to m-”

Vortex’s hand shot out faster than it moved naturally, catching them both by surprise. Without thinking, First Aid roughly shoved Cosmos out of the way, her head bouncing off of Vortex with a loud bang, her helmet splintering as cold metal fingers closed around him.

His helmet was suddenly alive with sound. Morse code. The same pattern he’d filled Prowls with all that time ago.

MINE.

He couldn’t breathe. The fingers were too tight around him, crushing him like a snake. His lungs burned, his vision swimming. He faintly heard a cracking sound and pain bloomed in his chest and something wet ran down his chin.

The mechs will keep you safe.

His mech was currently crushing him, and yet he’d never felt so safe in his life, so assured in where he stood in the universe.

“Tex, I can’t breathe.” He gasped. First Aid didn’t know if he was yelling or whispering – the beeping was so loud in his ears he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. “Please stop, I can’t breathe-” he wetly choked, blue splashing down his chin.

Fuck. He had been poisoned. This just couldn’t get any worse, could it?

Vortex made a loud groaning noise, wet and spluttering and threatening. His hands tightened, and he couldn’t even scream.

The black spots were starting to overwhelm his vision. “I’m all yours, Svastjan.”

That much he was certain of. Everything else struck him as being distinctly wrong. The idea of belonging to someone had always turned his stomach, but if it was Svastjan? It felt like a warm blanket, a firm hug, like everything was going to be okay.

His helmet took the brunt of the impact as he hit the floor, Vortex’s grip suddenly releasing. It cracked, and First Aid whimpered, curling in on himself to cradle his wounds. Shit. Why did it all have to hurt so much?

He needed to get inside of him. It possessed him, overtook all common sense and thought. Shifting to be on all fours, his stomach cramped and he emptied its contents, red mixing with blue in a mirror of Vortex’s visor. Suddenly, the pieces slotted together in his mind and he was on his feet and staggering towards him before his brain caught up with his vision.

Vortex had been poisoned too. He’d done it. It was his fault, it had been his idea. He should have known better. Blue ran down his helm in a mockery of tears, and he felt his heart wrench.

First Aid didn’t know how he got there so fast. He’d blinked and he’d somehow managed to scale up his shoulder to his face, his hands pressed against the glass of the cockpit. “Let me in!” He banged against it, his ribs screaming at him to stop. He didn’t listen. “Let me in, let me in, let me i-!” He yelped as it suddenly opened and he fell in, back bending awkwardly as he ended up like a scorpion on the floor. Loudly groaning, he forced himself up and staggered to the pilots seat. Exhaustion was starting to settle in, adrenaline just not enough to keep him going any more. He tried to shove it to the back of his mind, to keep himself going for as long as he could, to do as much as he could before the broken bones and split flesh registered and he passed out.

[RUN] flashed on Vortex’s visor aggressively. First Aid ignored him, fighting with the harness to get into the pilots seat. Vortex was fighting back aggressively, trying to keep him away.

“Stop it!” He shouted. “Fucking- let me help you!”

[CAN’T STOP IT]

“Then I will!” First Aid roughly ripped the harness away, the stitches giving out. He threw himself into the seat and grabbed the controls, taking command of his arms. What remained of the harness tightly wrapped around him, holding him in place. The cable that connected him to Vortex’s systems roughly shoved itself into the port on the back of his head, and he screamed at the feeling of sharp digits shoving themselves through his skull. He let go of the controls to grab his head, to try and keep it together as it split and burst. The harness tightly wrapped around him, holding him still as he thrashed and tried to rip the cable out.

It wasn’t Vortex. There was something else in there, something that was roughly shoving him and his hands out of the way. It made his skin crawl, to think of something else in there with them, interrupting them and sullying their connection with its infected hands. Through the pain, through his screams through gritted teeth and the burn down his spine as his body twisted and arched and bended in ways it wasn’t designed to, through the searing burn over his skin, he reached inside to find out where they came from.

He knew quintesson biology. He’d cut up enough of them to feel confident and familiar with it, it was the only reason he felt comfortable splicing their organic systems with Vortex’s artificial ones to keep him alive. But he’d missed something. Why was the quintesson in his system? Why were they still alive?

The mechs hands moved with his mental search, tracing down over his chest and to the gaping hole in his abdomen. The fingers dug into the new flesh, still wet and oozing and wriggling. Pain wracked through him and he whimpered, brow creasing and teeth gritting, but he persisted. They’d missed something. There was something they’d not seen before, something new to be explored. Quintessons had two brains. One in the head, and another down at the root of their lower limbs. There must have been a third one, an even more primitive brain that they hadn’t ever been looking for before, one that they’d never spotted, one that had made its way in as he mixed blood and bone and metal. The pain stung and burned like he was being slowly flayed by a scalding hot knife. The sharp claws dug into his skull twisted and turned, pulling him this way and that in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. He felt wet, his vision was obscured by bursts of white and bright colour, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He was a medic, his job was to save people, and he needed to save Vortex.

The panic became intense as he explored the spine. His own popped and cracked, his body seizing and his vision spluttering in and out. He faintly heard Vortex’s voice, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t let himself get distracted, not when he was so close. Digging in deeper, blunt digits slowly mapped it out, tracing over familiar structures and shapes until they bumped against something foreign and unknown.

Fear flooded him, and he faltered. Found it. He felt familiar hands wrap around his own, and suddenly he didn’t feel so afraid any more.

Vaguely, he wondered if they’d have any issues if a third consciousness died whilst they were connected, but he didn’t care. He wanted it gone.

“Get out of my body!”

It came out with a wet squelch. First Aid felt his consciousness tremble, he felt Vortex’s flickering in and out of being. His throat felt raw and his chest weak, all he could manage was a broken whimper as he reached out towards him to try and grab onto him, to hold him there, to make sure he was still a part of him.

He felt the pressure of someone pulling him into a hug, oh so very gentle against the remnants of his body. He didn’t realise how fragile he felt until he was being held like he were made of glass. Stubble brushed against his cheek, a rough scratch against softer skin. A hand tangled in his hair, brushing it back away from his face, and a clammy forehead pressed against his own with a sigh of relief.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Dark as a Raven’s Feather

A night owl is what he is. The day is too bright for him. It pains his eyes and head.

“Are you a vampire, or something?” his classmates used to ask him.

He never answered them.

His looks points towards the romanticised figures from film and literature, he supposes. Dark hair, as a raven’s feather, like his grand mère used to say. His skin is pale as marble, and the face has peculiar angles that some find attractive, others quite the opposite. But it’s the eyes that put most people off. They are pale too, but the colours shift. Mostly, they are blue, different shades, but in the lighter spectrum. In certain lights and settings, they go green, and on rare occasions golden specks appear.

“You’re such a freak!”

Sherlock still has no idea how many times he’s heard that sentence being thrown in his direction. Over the years, he’s got used to it, but if he’s distracted, it still hurts.

***

Sherlock loves the city; London, his one true love. He knows her like the back of his hand. He’s walked every street and alley. In his Mind Palace, there’s a map, more accurate than any found online, or in books. 

Granted, the map in his head, is not that useful to others. When he comes home just after dawn, he retreats to that map, and plots in new information. Where the last murder took place, which roads he ran to catch the killer, the new shop on one corner, roadworks and hindrances.

***

Exhausted after running the streets and fighting a man with a knife, Sherlock takes a shower, then goes to bed. He quickly updates his map, before he falls asleep. 

When Sherlock doesn’t find his meal prepared as he wakes at five in the afternoon, he doesn’t panic. Not at first, anyway.

Didn’t Hudders say she was visiting her sister this weekend?

Sherlock has difficulties remembering such trifles. Half of what his landlady prattles on about, don’t even reach his brain, let alone his ears.

He finds bread, honey, and switches on the kettle. The silence in the flat is bliss. At least during his meal. Afterwards, he gets restless. He wonders how it would feel to have someone living with him. Seconds after the thought has invaded his head, he discards it. Who on earth would want to live with him? The Freak impersonated. Perhaps some nutter from the psychiatric ward, or a suicidal person.

Before Sherlock gets the chance to dwell any further, his phone chimes with a text. A new case! 

He puts on his coat and scarf, finds his leather gloves in his pocket, and leaps down the stairs. Outside, it’s already dark. January is one of his favourite months.

***

It’s nearly midnight when he returns to Baker Street. He hears a sound from 221A, Mrs Hudson’s flat. A strangled sound. His heart pounds in his chest, as if he’s run for hours. Carefully, he approaches her door, not sure if there’s an intruder, or the landlady herself making the sound. The door isn’t locked, and Sherlock opens it, making sure to be cautious.

He finds her on the kitchen floor. She’s fallen and hit her head on the table corner. Blood has trickled down from her temple and into her hair. It’s clotted now. The fall happened hours ago. Before Sherlock woke. Hence the missing meal. Bile rises in his throat, panic sets in his chest, tears pour from his eyes.

“Nonononono,” he whispers.

Trembling fingers find her pulse point, he can’t trust her moving chest, and relief washes over him.

Not dead.

He calls for an ambulance, yells into the phone: “Hurry! She’s the only one I’ve got.”

***

He stands back when the paramedics arrive. They stabilise her, puts on an oxygen mask, lay her on a stretcher. Sherlock watches, fascinated by the skilled men, knowing exactly what to do. Outside, they get the stretcher into the ambulance, and then one of the men turns to face Sherlock.

His eyes are blue as the ocean. Sherlock wants to drown in them. The blue orbits are so distracting, he needs to ask again what the man just said.

“Are you alright?”

Sherlock nods, knowing full well it’s not a very convincing nod. 

“Do you want to come with?” the man asks.

“I’m not family. Only her tenant,” Sherlock mumbles and looks to the ground.

A warm hand is placed on his upper arm. No one ever touches him. Apart from the woman in the ambulance.

“I overheard the emergency call,” the man admits. “It sounded like a bit more than a tenant/landlady relationship to me. Come on.”

And then, he ushers Sherlock into the back of the ambulance, gesturing for him to take a seat beside his beloved Hudders. Her colour is less pale, and her breathing seems to be more even. He takes her tiny hand in both of his, stroking his thumb soothingly over the knuckles.

“She’ll be fine. Made of a sturdy material, this one,” the blue-eyed man says. “I’m John, by the way. John Watson.”

Sherlock introduces himself, and when he looks into those eyes again, he realises that he can trust this man with his life. He bends down to the elderly lady’s ear and whispers: “John Watson says you’ll be fine.”

Her eyes open slowly, clearly confused, but it doesn’t last long. When she spots Sherlock, a smile forms on her lips, and she squeezes his hands once. Then, she turns her gaze over to John, and her smile broadens into a full grin.

***

“You and Mrs H. were my favourite midnight distractions,” John whispers in Sherlock’s ear, some weeks later, while his fingers card through the raven-coloured curls.

“Hopefully, only I remain as such,” Sherlock quips and kisses John’s jaw.

John’s chuckle reverberates through Sherlock’s chest and sets in his heart. He’ll tell John about that later. After distracting him.

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

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[mommyslittlebird]

A Room of Your Own

Married!WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After getting kicked out of your college dorm, you find yourself living with two older strangers. It was never meant to be anything more than a temporary arrangement born out of necessity, but as the semester continues, something new starts to grow.

CW: Homophobia, Getting Kicked Out, Slow Burn (No sex or romance in this chapter), Age Gap

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I’m back from the dead, though probably not in the way you wanted or expected. I had to take a (not so) little break from one-shots and smut for the time being for some personal reasons. But I’m still finding ways to write and enjoy myself. Some of you probably have already seen this. It’s been up on AO3 for a while now. But I figured I’d post it here too.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of slow burn, so we'll see if I can resist having them all fall into bed together in the first few chapters. I also don't know how to write an introductory chapter without making it boring as shit, so I at least made it short to spare you all. I promise it gets better.

Chapter 1 of A Room of Your Own

You sat, knees curled to your chest, on the curb in front of what used to be your dorm. It was late, a little after midnight, and absolutely pouring rain.

Three days. You had been in the dorms for three days and you had already been kicked out. You’d expect some pushback, going to a religious college and being queer, but nothing like this. Nothing like getting kicked out of your dorm in the middle of the night because you were making your roommates uncomfortable. You’d tried so hard to get them to like you. They seemed sweet. Not your type of people, sure, but you thought the three of you could get along just fine.

As it turns out, they were actually so repulsed by your presence they couldn’t even wait until classes started to kick you to the curb. Literally.

“Hey!” Somebody shouted from the doorway, holding a large umbrella. You turned to see her approaching and shrunk back in on yourself. You didn’t think you could handle anymore ridicule that evening.

When you didn’t respond or turn to face her, she sat down next to you, sure to cover you with the umbrella as well. She spoke softer now. “Hey. I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

You still didn’t speak, but you looked at her now, partially soaked from where she was sitting next to you on the wet concrete. “I’m Yelena.” She reached her hand out for you to shake.

You shook her hand. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You recognized her from your dorm floor, though you’d only ever seen her in passing.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiled softly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”

You nodded, turning your gaze back to the raining night.

“Do you have anywhere to go? For tonight I mean. I would offer you to stay in my room, but…” she turned back to the door of the building. You both knew you couldn’t go back in there.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought where you would stay tonight. You could always stay in your car. It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve slept in the backseat. Still, the sopping wet clothes would surely make for a morning full of rashes and blistered skin.

Yelena sighed, looking at the ground. She was silent for a moment before she came up with an idea. “Let me call my sister. She and her wife have a massive place not so far from here. They’ll have a bedroom or two to spare.”

Before you could form a rebuttal of any sort, Yelena pushed the umbrella into your hands and dashed back inside. You tucked the umbrella between your leg and the crook of your arm, resting your head on your knees.

It wasn’t very long before Yelena was by your side again. “Okay she’s on her way. She’ll be here in about 10 minutes.”

You didn’t look at her, facing intentionally in the other direction. You felt so horrible. You just wanted to curl up and disappear. And now you were going to be picked and taken to the home of some random classmate’s sister? You try to formulate a response, a reason that you will be fine on your own, but there was nothing. It was either this or the back seat of your 1993 Toyota Corolla. Somehow, you bet Yelena wasn’t going to take that as a reasonable explanation as to why she should call off her sister.

“Are you coming with me?” You asked weakly.

She sighed and put her hand on your back. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I will if you really want me to.”

You finally turned to face her. She didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of leaving. She was probably a freshman. It was her first couple days in the dorm too and everything was so new and exciting. The last thing she wanted to do was go back home with her sister.

“No it’s okay,” you responded. The last thing you wanted was to inconvenience someone else tonight, and it’s not like a freshman you hardly knew was going to bring you much solace anyway.

She patted your back. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Before too much longer, Yelena stood up at the sight of headlights. She waved her arms in an “over here” motion. The car approached Yelena, stopping hard in front of the curb you were sitting on. The tires splashed you in rainwater and mud. Yelena winched, walking back towards you to usher you into the car.

She led you to the passenger door, popping it open and peeking her head in. “This is your girl,” she said, pointing back towards your soaked, mud covered figure. She motioned for you to sit.

You hesitated. The car looked nicer than any you’d ever been in before. The idea of ruining the nice leather seats made you want to shrink further into your ball of shame.

The woman in the driver's seat noticed your hesitation, but didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned with her seat. “Come on in,” she ushered. “Get out of that rain.”

You handed the umbrella back to Yelena, reluctantly taking a seat in the car. Yelena peaked her head back in to say “take care of her,” before closing the door and scurrying back into the dorms.

The woman looked at you, reaching up to pop on the overhead light. The sight of her in the light nearly took your breath away. She looked oddly familiar. Maybe you’d seen her around town. You sharply inhaled as the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen leaned over the console towards you. She frowned. “Oh you poor thing!” She reached out to wipe off your face. You cringed when you saw the mud smear across the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she turned the light off before pulling out of the parking lot. You fought the urge to curl up in her passenger seat, fearing further ruining her seats with the dirty bottoms of your shoes. When you didn’t speak, she offered up an introduction of her own. “My name is Natasha. I don’t know what Yelena’s told you, but I’m her sister. My wife and I have a place not so far from here.”

“I’m Y/N” you managed.

“A friend of Yelena’s?” She asked.

You chuckled a little. “I suppose you could say that. We met about 20 minutes ago.”

Natasha chuckled. “Of course. Leave it to Yelena to seek you out after such an injustice.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You wished you had heard the phone conversation so you could gauge just how much she knew.

It was as if Natasha could read your mind when she started next with the details of the phone call. “Yelena told me you got kicked out of the dorm by the other girls. They were uncomfortable because you were gay? I never expected to hear anything like that happening in 2024, but I guess I stand corrected.”

Well, that was one way of telling the story. At least Yelena had left out the peeping Tom allegations that got you chased off the floor by everyone who had to share a bathroom with you. They weren’t true, of course, but the fact that you’d made people so uncomfortable they were willing to name you a pervert without second thought made your skin crawl.

After a short, largely silent car ride, Natasha pulled the car into a garage. You hadn’t gotten a good look at the house, both because of the dark and getting lost in your own thoughts, but even by the state of the garage you could tell it was nice.

Natasha got out of the car, unlocking the door and leading you into the kitchen. You took your shoes off by the door, then decided to take your socks off too to avoid tracking muddy water through the house. The woman took your hand and guided you to the stairwell, then to a bathroom. She turned on the lights and opened up a cabinet, pulling out fresh towels and washcloths.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes and sheets. The bedroom is through here.” She opened a door that revealed a sizable bedroom connected to the bathroom. You could hardly believe this wasn’t the master suite she’d led you too.

She turned to face you, exhaling as she once again took in your disheveled state. She picked some errant pebbles from your tangled hair and wiped it out of your face. “Now,” she started, “do you need anything else before I let you get cleaned up and off to bed?”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough already. Thank you, Miss Natasha, for letting me stay here. It means a lot. Truly.”

“Of course.” She smiled. You didn’t notice the blush that crept onto her face at the formality. She swiped away the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes again. “We wouldn’t want a sweet girl like you sleeping out in the rain.” She booped the tip of your nose. “Now promise you’ll wake me or Wanda up if you need anything at all. We’re just in the room across the hall. Can’t miss it, it’s the only door on that side.”

You nodded slowly. There was no way in hell you were going to wake her or Wanda, who you assumed was her wife, for any reason. But you nodded anyway.

She smiled and rubbed your chin. “Good girl. Now go get cleaned up and try to get some rest.”

As she set off to her room, you hoped the mud had covered how pink your cheeks had gotten. You headed to the shower, sliding open the glass door and turning on the water. You decided to hop in with your clothes at first, hoping to get enough of the mud off that you could wear them again tomorrow. Then you wrang the clothes out and threw them over the door to dry. You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water warm you up from the cold rain. By the time you were finally clean, you grabbed the fresh towel Natasha had left for you.

Your clothes were, obviously, still soaked save for your underwear. You were thankful for the little time it had taken the thin silky material to dry. You put them back on and wrapped yourself in a towel before entering into the bedroom.

There was a maroon hoodie at the end of the bed. It had been there since Natasha first showed you the room, so it clearly wasn’t laid out for you. However, in lieu of other clothes, you decided the owner probably wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for the night. You slipped the soft fabric over your head. It was much too big for you, going down to almost your mid thighs while the sleeves dangled over your hands. But it was, quite possibly, the softest material that you’d ever felt. It felt simultaneously brand new and freshly washed.

You crawled up into the queen sized bed, slipping under the covers. You held the fabric of the hoodie close to your face. It smelled nothing like the musky bergamot of Natasha, which had been equally as entrancing in its own way. This was distinctly different. It smelled soft and comforting like lying in a meadow on a spring day. The comforting smell and warmth, along with your own exhaustion, quickly had you asleep.

[shieldedreams]

come with me (where you go i'll follow) (m.m.)

summary ⇾ minho's going on a journey of self-discovery over the summer... but he'd like to have you by his side details ⇾ 3,339 words / minho moon (xo, kitty) x female!reader / 🌸 a bunch of soft feels / a sprinkle of curse words / reader calls minho 'min' / kitty being the biggest shipper / reader shares a couple dorm with kitty only [!] spoiler disclaimer below the cut! + very stinking cheesy rom-com plot

[!] spoiler disclaimer: in an au where the roles of minho and kitty are somehow switched at the end of season two! (just a little!)

minho has had the million-dollar question in his head as the days count down in his mind to his departure for the summer break. more and more students begin to leave campus with luggages in tow; some askew, some perfectly wrapped and some... a work in progress whenever minho swings by your shared dorm with kitty (feigning the need to check on her only to constantly peep if you're anywhere near done packing or pry a little on your plans for summer).

today is the last day minho'll have that chance considering–"w-what? you're almost here?!" minho tries to keep his voice leveled, but with the way kitty gasps from the spot on her bed and the soft thud from the kitchen, she has an inkling of what's about to happen.

"yeah, sure," minho sighs, rubbing his face, "n-no, i haven't asked yet. i don't–"he groans–"okay, okay! i'll get to it now. give me at least thirty minutes!"

with one last sigh, he hangs up and now looks up to meet with kitty's eyes as she shakes her head.

"minho, you have to ask her now!"

"i don't know what you're talking about," minho clears his throat, stepping out of the kitchen but kitty scurries to get in his way, "minho!" she grabs his arm, giving him a good shake when he faces her with wide eyes.

"this is it," she grips onto his arm, "when will you ever get a chance like this again?"

the boy opens his mouth, only to find himself at a lost for words when he glances over kitty's shoulder to see your packed suitcase, ready for the leaving... and he has no idea where you're headed... but he'd like to be with you wherever that destination may be. that's what scares him. that despite the uncertainty... he's willing to take a chance on it with you.

but he has a bigger fish to catch when he doesn't even know what your plans are.

a bigger, bigger fish?

his flight leaves in an hour.

and it's not to say he left it down to the last minute but–

"c'mon, minho. you can do this," he mutters under his breath, shaking his hands dry as he turns off the faucet. clearing his throat, he tries to man up as he exits the bathroom and heads on out to the living room.

he stands a distance away, watching you play uno with kitty, q and yuri. there's occasional banter and the flicking of cards back and forth but just as minho's about to call for you, it seems like you're a step ahead when–"min!" you wave him over, "come play!"

the boy gulps, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shakily replies: "y-yeah, sure. in a second. but could you–"he clears his throat, "c-could i ask you something?"

that grants the attention of everyone in the room to look at his direction, following your line of sight as you watch him with a small smile. "of course. what is it?"

like a deer in headlights, he did not expect you to respond in that way, but now he looks back and realises he should have called you out to speak with him rather than ask in front of everyone. he tries to think of a way to get out of this situation, only for kitty to catch on to save minho's ass with: "oh! i think we were thinking of ordering pizza earlier,"

that seems to draw the crowd to kitty as she whips out her phone to order, even your attention is now on her. minho mouths a quick thank you, covey, only for kitty to snort and act invested in which pizza flavour to get. another time, minho thinks, now joining your side physically, and decision-wise in supporting which pizza toppings you wanted.

fast-forward to a couple of days later... this is it, now's the time, minho thinks. in the space of the kitchen where the two of you are alone (kitty gave him a heads up she'll only be back in an hour so now would be a great time), cups of warm tea in possession and him... being lost in the conversation with you as he always does makes him lose track of time.

maybe it was the way you always give him your undivided attention. with the things he's able to talk to you off the bat; the good, the bad, the things that keep minho up at night and you see him past all of the things that hold him captive. being in his father's shadow, drowning in his parents' wealth, his status–it all seems to strip to nothing to just... himself.

and you look at him like love is ever-present in him.

like it is in you.

he doesn't know how to bring it up or whether he can bring it up but when the door swings open, minho sighs when you giddily set your cup down to–"kitty! i got you something!"

the girl remains frozen as she watches you flee from the kitchen, grabbing something from your bag discarded on the floor next to the sofa. kitty turns the cheek to look at minho, who remains his head hanging low as he sinks so far down he might as well be glued to the kitchen counter. that alone gives her the answer that he probably has not asked you the important question and that brings you to–"minho!"

the boy blinks back to reality and kitty sees that. this reality where he minho hasn't manned up and at least give it a try, he's going to regret it for the next few weeks. he frantically fishes out his phone and–"she's not answering her phone!" minho yells. oh my god, he's yelling. he can't help it, the volume came out louder than he had intended but–"go find her! at least try!" kitty spins him around and gives him a nudge. minho can't think straight but his body kicks into overdrive as he dashes out of the room.

once he's out and the door slams behind him, he freezes on the spot. his heart is pacing so fast, he thinks he's about to pass out but... no. no, no, no. this can't be the way. not like this. minho keeps trying to dial your number as he starts going down the list of places you might be at.

library? no. cafeteria? not there either. in one of the classrooms you decide to linger around every now and then–fuck's sake, classes aren't even on anymore, why is he checking here?!

his feet reroutes him to the next best thing: out of the buildings and in the open where he can think of where to go to next. through it all, though, he keeps cursing himself in plenty colourful languages in his mind. the one that keeps repeating itself is: i can't believe i'm a fucking idiot!

his mind is haywire, nearly set on fire the entire time he's scouring the campus for a glimpse of you. he feels like the upper hands of the universe must be laughing at the turn of events. mocking him for his failure with each location he tries to go to only to no avail; left with the dust of loneliness when you're nowhere to be found. he curses under his breath, not knowing where the hell you are especially when you're not reachable through phone.

his feet brings him out of the buildings, through the flush greenery and–the familiar sound of his ringtone vibrates in his pocket. he frantically pulls it out and processes your name flashing across the screen. he manages to answer the call with trembling hands, only to be greeted with: "hey, min! sorry i didn't get to your calls. i didn't realise my phone was dead and i just plugged it into my power bank–"

"where are you, y/n?" minho cuts you off, almost feeling bad for doing so but he doesn't have much time. hell, he hasn't been keeping track of it just so it feels like he has more time to get to you.

he hears you chuckling, and he hates that at a time like this, he can't indulge in the feeling of making you laugh; be it intentional or not.

"turn around, min."

it takes the boy a second or two before he processes your words. he spins around once his mind registers your words and... and there you are. phone to your ear with your power bank plugged to it and... that stupid smile on your face that renders him breathless (including all that running he's been doing for the past ten to fifteen minutes).

his eyes soften at the sight of you, despite his heart doing somersaults because that was the effect you had on him. the power that makes his knees weak and... and...

"are you okay?" you snort, waving a hand in front of his face as you've shoved your phone into your bag, tilting your head at him. he's still catching his breath, heaving as the sweat trickles down his forehead. it seems to catch your attention when you use the sleeve of your sweater, lightly dabbing it to his forehead, "jeez, what were you doing? running a marathon?"

he answers truthfully: "i was looking for you."

"oh," you chuckle, retracting your hand to gesture it to yourself, as if to silently say well, you've found me.

"min," you call softly, swallowing thickly after, "i-is everything alright?"

minho doesn't know where to begin or how to begin. but with the countdown he has in his mind, he knows he has to start somewhere.

"i'm leaving," the words fly out of his mouth quicker than he can stop himself, and when he manages another deep inhale, he appreciates that you wait until he continues. "f-for summer, i'm following my family on the summer tour. my flight's in an hour."

"that's great!" was your immediate response, but when the seconds pass by and the longer you're staring into minho's eyes, it seems like there's more than meets the eye. "w-wait, is that not good? am i supposed to have another reaction?"

minho hates how you're hesitant to say anything further when the smile you have on your face is slowly fading. it's not that he doesn't want to smile, but it just feels like he can't. you see how minho's not returning your smile and something feels off. you can't put your tongue on it and it begins to near scare you but everything comes to a halt when you watch as minho puts his phone into his pocket so his hands are free to... reach for your hand.

he's gentle, as if any sudden movement will scare you away. you're trying to make sense of the situation when minho gives your hand a squeeze, cupping them in his hands as he builds the courage to look up to you, connecting your eyes once more.

"a-and i'd like it if you'd come with me."

he watches as his words sink into your system. how your eyes grow wide and your jaw hangs open but it doesn't look negative... yet. minho feels his heart racing; this could either make or break his summer. him knowing very well despite him going on the tour will unlock new sides to himself... he would love it if he got to spend it with you and just... exist in the world with you while experiencing new sides of the world. the thoughts alone has left him dreaming with a smile... and that's when he knew he wanted to try to make it a reality. to at least give it a shot and now, in this moment with you... he's well-aware it was a fifty-fifty chance.

and that was a chance he was willing to take.

"me? on the summer tour?" you glance down to your hand in his and gulp, blinking back up to him as the words try to formulate themselves: "is there something i'm not catching on here or–"minho's actions makes your words fall into themselves when he steps closer into your personal space bubble. he's... gentle with his advancements despite the urgency lacing his words. yet, the sudden movement doesn't make you back away.

if anything, you lean in when minho's closer to you.

"i... i know it sounds crazy but," he licks his lips, blinking down to the gap between your bodies because he doesn't know if he can look you in the eye as he says: "i wouldn't have anyone else to come with me if it's not you."

the silence is deafening; past the ruffles of the leaves that float on the ground. the low murmurs of passerbys and their footsteps padding away in the distance. the heavy breathing from minho, catching his breath from all the running and the anxiety biting at the back of his neck.

"what if i said no?" you try asking, not that it was your intention but it was a thought you let out loud. you watch as your question makes minho a little sad but he still manages a smile. bittersweet. "then i'd wish you a good summer break... and hope i'd still see you back here."

you nod slowly, your eyes gazing down to watch your hand in his both. you give his hands a squeeze and he reciprocates, still cupping your hand tenderly.

"and what if i said yes?"

those words alone sparked hope into minho's eyes, and you feel it when he tightens the grip out of his subconscious. he takes in a deep breath and exhales shakily, licking his lips before he says: "i can't begin to imagine what it would be like if you said yes. but for starters," he looks up to you, the glint in his eyes is what makes your heart race and calm at the same time–this unspeakable comfort that makes you know, no, feel that being with minho... feels right. "it would make me happy," he murmurs, lowering his eyes from yours to smile to himself, seeing how your feet goes between his feet due to the proximity, "very, very happy."

though it was sudden, though it was out of nowhere, you can't deny that in your heart, this... felt right. it scared you and makes you wonder of all the possibilities of what could go right, wrong but you know regardless of it all, not going with minho would be something you'd regret if you let this chance go. (plus, you didn't have much of a real plan of where to go for the summer anyway. so this was a big step ahead.)

"we have so much to unpack here," you chuckle, shaking your head as you grip onto minho's hand, feeling him return the gesture as he uses a hand to hold onto yours properly, the other cupping the back of the hand of yours he has captive.

"and we'll have time," he says, gazing up to your eyes with the kind of happiness that makes your heart swoon.

"my luggages are still in the dorm," you snort, just now realising they're in the corner of your dorm living room.

"not exactly," minho chuckles, using his eyes to point over your shoulder and you look over it to see kitty and q, out of breath, hunched over your couple of luggages as they try to keep themselves upright with a feeble thumbs up from a distance. you can't help but laugh at the sight before the feeling of minho holding your hand reels your attention back to him.

you watch as he gulps, his hands are beginning to get clammy and you know when minho's nervous. it wasn't your intention to keep him waiting but it's not everyday that someone just asks you to join them to tour several countries in less than an hour. it makes your heart race just thinking about it but... one thing's for certain that you need to clarify: "are you sure?"

minho can't help but laugh. he's been thinking about this for the longest time since he's made the decision to go on the summer tour alone. when the thought of you joining him became a possible equation, it's–"i've been right and wrong about a lot of things," minho murmurs, taking the brave step to lean his forehead onto yours, "but this..." he's already looking at you when you tilt your eyes up to meet with his, "this i'm certain of."

you let your eyes flutter shut with a soft exhale. minho feels the nervousness take over his system with each second that goes by and you don't say anything. then, he feels your fingers filling between his own. before he can bask in the feeling, before he can jump to his conclusions, you say a single word that makes his breath hitch.

"okay."

it's like radio silence. the only thing minho can hear is your voice that he has to be clear on this.

"o-okay?" he leans back, eyes widening with the flood of joy he can't contain when your smile grows first, before your eyes open and now the two of you are a pair of smiling idiots.

"yes, i would love to!"

minho lets go of your hand to pull you into his arms. you're surprised, but it's like your body and heart knows what to do when your arms welcome him in to wrap around his neck. you squeal when he spins you around; feeling him laugh against the side of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

the two of you are about to indulge in the feeling; being in each other's arms but–"i hate to be the bearer of bad news but minho, y/n, continue this at the airport!"

"oh, shit!" minho pulls away from you to let you know that–"the driver's here! we have to go!"

"what?!" is the only thing that comes out from your mouth, the shock renders you speechless that you've conveniently forgot that minho clearly mentioned flight's in an hour.

"hug, kiss, do whatever you want but later! get to the airport!" kitty's voice gives you the nudge you need. you barely have enough time to hug either kitty or q properly and say your goodbyes. minho's grabbing onto your hand, the other grabbing some of your bags and nudging you to do the same before you're left running to where his driver's parked.

from a distance, you can hear kitty and q squealing, but really, all you can focus on is the adrenaline fueling your veins with minho's hand in yours and occasionally glancing to his smile.

(("all of this feels surreal," your words come out in a mere whisper as your eyes drink in the details of the lavish seats; marble panels, the vast space between the seats and quite frankly, the lack of seats which makes everything feel more spacious. you hadn't realised you had said it out loud when you hear minho saying: "yeah, it does," while you're talking about the grandeur of it all, it seems like minho's talking about something else when you meet with his gaze. the warmth and excitement that radiates his pupils makes you smile, even more when you follow his line of sight down to between your bodies. he has his palm facing up, resting in the space between your bodies. his fingers are a little shaky as he lifts his hand up and rests it on your thigh, close to your knee. you try to be calm and collected but minho doesn't miss the way you press your lips together to avoid smiling too wide as you place your hand in his. his fingers fill the spaces between yours; like you were made for him to hold and he cherishes it. he gives your hand a squeeze before he decides to close his eyes. you do the same, only difference is that you scoot a little closer towards him to rest your head on his shoulder. he instinctively shifts lower to let you slot your head perfectly and minho's already smiling as he drifts away to sleep. knowing that the weeks ahead, the dream he has of you following him on the summer tour, is now a reality when he feels you close to him and the fingers of yours between his own.))

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God p57

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Guess getting in contact with Altostratus might end up being the hardest part of the whole process. The association gave you a direct comm machine to keep in contact with the other heroes a while ago but you have never... actually used it?

It's not your fault! You never actually had to use it before! You always managed everything yourself! Or well...with Cub's help. Plus the association said to only use it when you really needed it so you always... found reasons not to waste it just in case.

...

Hmm...Your room is a mess even on good days and right now It's at least ten times worse then usual, you aren't going to ever find it are you? Not fast enough at least. Which leaves contacting the association directly as the only option, you really didn't want to do this because you know they'll ask questions and make you promise to pay them back somehow but if It's the only way you'll-

"Found it" You turn towards Cub who is holding the little communicator thingy right in his hands.

"Where did you-"

"It was in the closet, why would you even put it there? That's where one puts clothes usually."

"I... Have no idea Cub... Wait! You have no room to talk mr I have weird glowing chemical liquids in my drawer!"

He just snorts and waves his hand in the air dismissively. "Well, here you go."

You grab the little radio and nod, Cub leaves the room and you begin the call....Well, this is strangely nervewrecking, you feel like a nervous teen ordering pizza for the first time... you don't even know if he's occupied with hero work right now, maybe this is a mistake- oh he's answered!

<Hello? Hotguy? Why are you calling me?>

"Do you have a car?"

<. . . What?>

Oh yeah, probably should have uh said hi first huh. You might have gotten a bit excited. "Sorry, sorry...hi Stratus!"

<Uhh Hi Hotguy why are you calling? What do you want?>

"Do you have a car?"

<No, I heard you the first time, WHY are you asking me that?>

"Cuteguy is awake!" Wait...was he even told about that? He must have! Definitely!

<... Huh... I still don't see how me having a car relates to this?>

"I uh... Thought it would be easier to get to the clinic by car I'm not allowed to go out as Hotguy right now and the association would kill me if I used my powers to run tgere in civilian clothes...soooo I would have to walk there...under the rain"

<... Are you ser-wait one second>

You hear a noise in the background, it sounds like a somewhat familiar feminine voice? ... Wait, is that Ocean Queen? Why is she with Altostratus?

"Ocean Queen!"

<Wha- you can hear her through this? How powerful is this thing?>

He sounds upset, weird.

"I didn't know you two were working together on a case!"

<... Yes... Working together on a case, definitely what's happening... So uh, anyway, when did you need me to come by?>

"Uh...as soon as you can? Wait! Could you get Ocean Queen to come with? I'm sure Gr- Cuteguy would love to meet her"

There are a few moments of silence on the other end before you hear a stifled giggle come trough.

<You know, I think I'll be able to convince her...just give me like twenty minutes to get dressed.>

And the comm turns off, he must have cut off the call ...wait, why would he have to get dressed if he's working on a case with Ocean Queen? Wait... Are they doing undercover work? Come on! You always wanted to do that and the hero association always said no! That's not fair.

[protect-namine]

Ahhhhh your theory about how Vein died is sooooooooooo fucking real. Like I've seen people talk about how Lu Guang might have a secret power? But I feel like that's not the case cuz then we might have seen it play out in S1 and S2. Lg would surely would have used it in the fight with Qian Jin.

for context, anon is talking about this post where I theorize how vein "died." I go into it in more detail there, but the tl;dr version of it is: no lu guang did not kill him vein directly. he just delayed vein from entering the clinic early, thus creating a butterfly effect (hence his whole speech about it) that led to wang qing being awake when vein tries to leave with the notebook, thus creating an opportunity for her to "kill" vein which she wouldn't have had originally. but liu xiao interrupted this chain of events and that's why vein is alive using the faking death ability.

I am linking the reblog version here because other people have added their own thoughts since the creation of the post. I'm not sure if anon has seen it or just the original post, because in my original post I posit that liu xiao has the faking death ability. but after seeing other people's thoughts, I am now more leaning to the idea that wang qing has the faking death ability or perhaps, that a combination of wang qing and liu xiao is what made the "heart attack but fake death" happen. perhaps (unintentionally) they created a power combo-ing effect similar to how lu guang and cheng xiaoshi can create a mind link across time when combining their powers, or how li tianchen can possess people across space by proxy of li tianxi.

a power combo that works across "death" would be interesting, though this is merely speculative at this point. it would certainly provide another perspective to why they're paired up in the ed.

to now address anon: yeah, exactly. even if the addition of non-photo based powers is a recent change in writing direction (that they may not have had foresight on during the writing of previous seasons), it still would be too much of a drastic change for lu guang to be hiding another ability.

as I said in the post, it is unfortunate that we have to rely on information outside of the show to make sense of it, but yingdu really does make more sense when you've seen the recent interview with director li. in particular, it is heavily implied that liu xiao has more than one ability, and the process of gaining an ability (aside from inheritance from parents) is through death or stealing it from others.

while I am a believer in the idea that lu guang is willing to do morally questionable things for cheng xiaoshi, I don't think he would've had an opportunity to just get a new ability so soon after he just got the diving ability from cheng xiaoshi. on the flip side, if he always had multiple abilities since he was a kid, it would be bad writing lmao because then why has he never used it until now? especially when he's been timelooping for who knows how long to avoid a death node. I know link click is possibly retconning some details (2018 is now 2019, they changed the plans for red eyes, etc etc) but I don't think this would be a retcon they'd do because it would change too much of lu guang's character.

I am going to use this ask as a jumping off point to talk about yingdu's storytelling style, and how we should take this into account when analyzing this season. putting this under the cut now since this gets long and is kinda just a tangent now to the ask itself, though it does circle back to lu guang's role in vein's "death" in the end.

part of the reason vein's death is confusing is definitely because of the animation of lu guang puppeteering wang qing. I can totally see how people would come to the conclusion that lu guang was controlling her somehow. but we have to remember that yingdu is not like S1 and S2, for multiple reasons. one, it's a shorter season meant to introduce plot hooks, not plot; it's a setup for S3. two, it's a change in perspective from cheng xiaoshi's more grounded reality to lu guang who has been timelooping for forever. three, it was animated by a different studio than studio lan. fourth, it aims to provide a different story, and the storytelling style reflects that.

whereas S1 and S2 has a storytelling style that focused more on plot details and building up tension; yingdu focused more on relationships and emotions. it heavily uses visual metaphors in its storytelling compared to previous seasons.

in a way, although I have qualms about yingdu's writing, I do think visual metaphors is a valid solution to the problem of, "we only have six episodes to establish new plots and characters and motivations. how do we convey information efficiently in that amount of time without compromising artistry?"

I will mention one metaphor in detail that will be relevant for the lu guang discussion later. one example is glasses as a perception metaphor. this meta was written in YE5, and YE6 continues the metaphor as well because we see lu guang wear clear glasses for the first time, symbolizing that he is no longer stuck in his rose-tinted glasses era of looking into the past, and has decided to look into the future, solidified by his decision to remove vein from the situation and also because he reveals later that this is the last time he can loop.

there are, of course, more examples. idk if I have links for existing meta on this, but we have hands as a metaphor for relationships (hand holding, handshakes, fist bumps, etc) and the power balance of each relationship (with regards to secrets, deals, etc). we have various color theories floating around. we have theater/cinema and chess as metaphors for everyone's narrative roles. lu guang's imaginary clock as a metaphor for how he thinks the timeline should go, and how it's prevented from running by red strings forming the word BRIDON. we even see the clock fall apart in one of the later episodes (I forget which one atm). hell I could write a whole meta on liu xiao's tetris game as a metaphor for how he sees the "game" he's playing and the role xia fei plays into all of it.

side note: I think it's incredibly valid for people to feel that yingdu did not have enough space to properly establish characters, and I feel the same way too. but at the same time, I think a lot of characterization also gets missed in yingdu because it's a season that loves its metaphors and encodes character motivations through it instead of just showing it to us. I have conflicting feelings about this, but ultimately, they only had 6 episodes to tell a story, and I think that's something we should always keep in mind when managing expectations.

circling back to vein's "death" and lu guang's role in it... visual metaphors are gonna be confusing if people don't know this is what yingdu's storyelling heavily uses. I don't think we should be reading yingdu the same way we did S1/S2.

someone could watch lu guang puppetering wang qing and think, "oh he's using her to kill vein directly" but if we stick to yingdu's storytelling style, it is more likely a metaphor for him learning to manipulate the butterfly effect for his purposes (again also symbolized by the glasses metaphor, since he wears clear glasses in the same episode)

scenes should also not be taken out of context. there is a reason he made a whole speech about the butterfly effect first. a small change (delaying vein) results in a big change (killing vein). if lu guang was controlling wang qing or whatever, that is not a small change. that is not a butterfly effect. we literally had a butterfly land on lu guang's shoulder after he made this speech to vein. the point was to create a butterfly effect that would lead to a situation where vein dies.

and for my final tangent: this sets us up perfectly for S3 because I believe lu guang and liu xiao are supposed to be narrative foils.

they both have expressed wanting control over the timelines. liu xiao wants "to make uncertainties into certainties" (whatever this means) and lu guang wants "to make certainties (cheng xiaoshi's death node) uncertain." but as of S1 and S2, lu guang was not yet in a position to properly rival liu xiao over this theming, because we know he's been timelooping and failing over and over to save cheng xiaoshi, while liu xiao has been successfully manipulating people into doing things for him (getting li tianchen to retrieve liu min's phone for him; baiting cheng xiaoshi to go to bridon so he can use him to bait wang qing to revealing where she hid the location of cheng weimin's notebook so vein can steal it).

now, lu guang has shown some semblance of control. and we have seen the effects of it. cheng xiaoshi is still alive and well in a post-S2 post-yingdu timeline.

I mentioned this way back in YE2, but there's also a distinct change in the way we're moving from "closed loops" to "butterfly effects" as a theme in yingdu. yingdu has many objectives it wanted to do as a season, but the main one was lu guang learning to manipulate the timelines through creating a butterfly effect. in keeping with this theme and objective, it just does not make sense for him to kill vein by somehow directly controlling wang qing.

[undomesticated-animal]

Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

[bwat5-blog]

Continuing The Cycle

**Spoilers For Arcane**

Let me say to begin with, that nothing in this post is to downplay or brush off Piltover's oppression of Zaun. There will be some who read that and still scream at me, that's okay. I just want to be clear.

Many people on here more insightful and intelligent than I have spoken on this already, but it has been sticking with me lately so I wanted to get my thoughts out.

I have been quite free with dismantling some of the inane attempts at criticism of Arcane in this space. But, I promise I do actually understand everyone is entitled to their opinion. After all, how we connect with and understand art on an individual level is one of the things that make it so special. I have never, and will never come for someone who is simply stating their honest opinion based on the actual content in a respectful manner.

Where my issues come in, have to do with these wide-spread critiques/takes/stances that so directly undermine the meaning of the narrative they are best ignorant and at worst malicious. And more often than not rely on omission of details that negates their stance, or fabrication of details to support them. To that end, what I am discussing today is the black and white thinking that has permeated the fandom, poisoning understanding and appreciation of all corners of that narrative.

LET'S JUST GET IT OUT OF THE WAY:

*Before we get into the Arcane content, we need to discuss where a lot of this is coming from. I am just gonna get this out here right now, and there are some people who are gonna keel over reading it but if you are one of those folks I might as well not waste your time*

Arcane is not the Israeli–Palestinian conflict.

It could not be more clear that this is where a lot of this is coming from. Let me be explicitly clear, this is NOT a deep-dive or analysis of this conflict. This thing is immensely complicated . If you comment here with a "IT IS NOT COMPLICATED ITS" sort of comment I'm sorry to tell you but you are wrong. The modern phase of this has origins as far back as the late nineteenth century and there is more going back even further. I don't care if its a straight fucking line. Something going back that far has more to it than the average nerd like me is qualified to speak on. Now, that being said, I do understand to a degree why this is happening. Not like this conflict has ever really been settled but in the last few years especially things have really been active and generating a degree of media content I don't remember seeing this level of in my short 32 years. So in a world where everyone (myself included) is so plugged in and enveloped by social media, a lot of us are getting a more direct look at this than we really ever have. And we analyze and connect with art through the lens of the world around us to a point. But we CANNOT do so exclusively. Trying to force a narrative into a one-to-one comparison robs it of a tremendous amount of meaning. Because no matter how complex and intricate this story actually can be. IT IS NOT REALITY. I'm not getting into it here, that would be pages and pages of writing and I'm here to talk about Arcane. But I'm going to say this because it applies to real life and the show both and will take us into my actual point today.

The idea that anyone on one side must always be good and justified simply because they are the oppressed, while the other must always be evil, is juvenile, naïve, and fails to grasp even a fraction of the complexity of human nature

Some of you are going to have an absolute seizure reading me say that that statement applies to real life as well. I don't care. It takes time, maturity, and meeting people from all walks of life to understand things are not so simple.

BACK TO ARCANE:

But, that being said time to get back to business. How does this all apply to Arcane?

"The show should have ended with a civil war between Zaun and Piltover!"

"When Zaun arrived during the last battle Jinx should have unloaded on the Enforcers and the Noxians both!"

"They ruined Jinx's character! WTF do you mean she apologized for killing Caitlyn's mother? Her mom was part of the oppressive system that ruined Jinx's life and brought it on herself!"

"Silco did bad things but it was all to gain power to protect Zaun!"

"Poor little rich girl lost her mom and acts like it's a reason to punish an entire city with warcrimes. The people of Zaun have been suffering worse for their entire history"

"Rebel Vi I miss you! How dare they make you care about people in Piltover!"

"The coward show runners made Zaunites into boot-lickers fighting for Piltover wearing Enforcer armor at the end!"

You get the idea. I have seen variations of these and many more time and time again. Zaun should have let Piltover fall or even attacked themselves. Caitlyn deserved everything done to her because she's of the Piltovan elite. Every terrible thing Jinx or Silco did was totally and completely justified because of Piltovan oppression.

Now there are many angles I could come at this from. My usual one is simply addressing the astounding lack of logic in most of these sorts of arguments. For example, I can rope all of the people saying Zaun should have let Piltover fall into one category. People who forgot about this guy:

Like he was just gonna "evolve" Piltover than call it a day and zoot off into space with his new buddies. Obviously not and the idea that he wouldn't immediately take Zaun as well then keep moving is completely laughable. But this sort of thing isn't my issue today. My issue is that those so zealously insisting the the show should have continued on a path of hate, death and destruction are completely missing the point.

I titled this continuing the cycle for a reason. So much of this show, revolves around this concept of the cycle of violence. Those who keep it going, those who suffer from it, and those who break it. And the issue I'm finding is that a tremendous amount of people have seemingly decided that anything people from Zaun do is justified, and anything people from Piltover do is not. When in fact, where they are born is irrelevant in this context. Because each and everyone of them has the choice to further the cycle, or to walk away.

Silco & Vander:

Vander continued the cycle when instead of forgiving Silco for his part (whatever it may have been, we never really get the whole story) in Felicia's death he tried to kill him. And Silco did the same when he took his revenge instead of walking away ending not only the life of the man who wronged him, but causing the deaths of two teenage boys, trying to have Vi killed and causing her imprisonment altering her life forever, and taking Powder as his own after obliterating her second family altering her life and the lives of all those she would hurt through her actions as well.

Caitlyn:

In Caitlyn we see all three. She was an admittedly naïve but well-meaning young woman who was victimized terribly by cycle of violence around all for thinking she could help. We then watch her heart-breaking transformation into being a part of it allowing her hate and pain to warp her into someone dark and vengeful. Then finally we see her laying down the hate for her mothers killer in favor of her love for the woman who means everything to her. Stepping outside of it and turning her back on that violence.

There are of course other examples. Jinx walking away, Ambessa choosing to continue the bloodshed even with her last child begging her to stop. the list goes on. My point in discussing this is that it doesn't matter where they come from. Characters from all over this story play a part both good and bad in the events that occur. And to properly appreciate and understand this tale and what it is saying we MUST recognize that.

Yes Silco was a Zaunite. No Silco was not justified in unleashing Shimmer on his own people. He was a revolutionary once, but he lost his way. In the end he died a violent drug lord who exploited his people for his own gain. He was not a hero.

Yes Jinx is a Zaunite. No, Jinx attacking the council was not a noble strike for her people against oppression. She was a terrified, mentally ill, grieving and angry young woman who lashed out in a moment of awful pain. And in doing guaranteed Piltovan oppression against her people. .

Yes, Heimerdinger was the father of Piltover and his neglect caused terrible problems for everyone. He also gave his life for a Zaunite rebel commander to help get him home. (I understand in the lore he's probably alive but we haven't seen that yet and they have for sure diverged so it isn't a guarantee)

Yes, Caitlyn Kiramman is the daughter of one of the high houses of Piltover, and played a part of the people of Zaun suffering under Ambessa's manipulations and cruelty. She also gave the leader of the Firelights the gemstone she was so determined to return, stood side-by-side with Vi and told the council to their faces they failed Zaun, and put her own body on the line to make things right against Ambessa.

And that isn't to say that any of those characters were all good or all bad. It's to say that they all are capable of both. Just like every character. To slap a Zaun sticker on Silco and a Piltover (or cop as so many of you are fond of) sticker on Caitlyn and give them a pass or not for everything they do based on that is simplistic and ignorant. These characters have so much to them that to reduce them to these easily digestible bite-sized pieces is to deprive yourself of that true weight of this story.

All that said, lets take another look at a few items from that list from earlier:

"The show should have ended with a civil war between Zaun and Piltover!"// At the moment where all of humanity was at stake, people came together and fought side by side to quite literally save the world

"They ruined Jinx's character! WTF do you mean she apologized for killing Caitlyn's mother? Her mom was part of the oppressive system that ruined Jinx's life and brought it on herself!"// In a moment of pain and clarity Jinx found herself speaking to someone she realized she horribly wronged. Someone who had been twisted into something dark and violent by pain and grief, a feeling Jinx knew all too well. So she said the most she could, it isn't a direct apology. But her remorse is clear. "

"When Zaun arrived during the last battle Jinx should have unloaded on the Enforcers and the Noxians both!"// Jinx went from someone hated and feared, who felt like she had nothing to offer anyone, who felt like she had failed or killed everyone who loved her, to riding into battle leading her people and bearing symbols of her loved ones into the war for all mankind. And although I and most agree she's alive, the last act we know she for sure that she took was to save the life of the older sister who loved her so much in her most dire moment. If she did die, Jinx died a hero.

CLOSING WORDS:

Arcane is many things. But it's humanity is its heart. I've said it many times and many ways, but good stories... in this case great stories matter. They stick with us. Because long after the giant battles, the wolf monsters, and shiny blue magic rocks have faded, its the humanity you remember. The sisters fighting desperately to hold on to each-other in a world determined to rip them apart. The lovers from different worlds finding hope in each-others arms. Brothers betraying one another, a daughter having to take her mothers life, the list goes on. But when we rob these characters and this story of all of that, when the flash is gone, what's left?

I haven't done a long one in a bit and I feel like this is a bit rambling so I apologize. To those who take time out of their day to read anything I have to say I appreciate you more than you know. Feel free to share your thoughts! I love discussing this show. And in closing will leave you with one of my favorite quotes.

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for"

- JRR Tolkien

[nebulations]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[perilegs]

i rlly like reading higurashi so far bc it has its moments where something is said and you're immediately like "oh lol i know what's going to happen," and those moments are always almost too on the nose, like someone saying "i'll be back" in a 90s horror movie or something, but since there's so much silly stuff in the vn it kind of forces you to forget about what you know for a sec every now and then and only then reward you with proof of being right