#i have a lot of regrets I think. i kind of wish I had gone to a traditional college with dorms and a real community
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civettea · 12 days ago
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Sort of a vent below, just wanted to get something down in writing to see if I can sort my brain out. Mentally having a rough time of it rn
I moved out of my parent's place back in august (Being out has been really good for my relationship with my mom fs and its actually nice to go visit for the holidays and just pop by sometimes.) And for a while it's been decently comfortable and Ive liked having space to myself for once.
For the last couple weeks though I've just had this ache in my chest that won't go away. The only thought I can really put into words is that I just feel like I want to go home, but I am home. I also dont mean my parent's place either.
I feel like all I do every day is just kill time. I've started applying to jobs again and have so far gotten nothing back, my college stuff doesn't start back up until january, and I just spend most of the day alone trying to do anything to keep myself busy until my roommate gets back or I'm tired enough to go to bed.
I guess I miss always having someone around to talk to or just be in the same room with. Being alone, I just end up trying to sleep for as long as I can so I don't have to be awake.
I just have a hard time believing I really belong anywhere right now I guess
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norikuna · 4 days ago
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LAST FRIDAY NIGHT — choso kamo
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welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (d) and let the show begin !
prologue. → it's been seven days since you wobbled into your apartment and almost threw up on your best friend. seven days since you confessed your love to him. seven days of radio silence as you've done your best to shut him out, hoping that the earth swallows you whole. there's no way he's going to want anything to do with you now!
but it's been years since choso had started silently loving you.
want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !
pairing. choso kamo x afab!reader
warnings. vírgin!choso, spítting, kíssing, makíng out, thígh kínk (mild), yuuji being a menace 😭
word count. 8k! song inspiration. last friday night — katy perry
a/n. i can't believe i don't write for choso more. i really put a lot of love into this fic but i wish i had expanded on it a bit more 😭 one thing abt me is that i love adding side characters to cóck block
mp3. think we kissed, but i forgot!
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"did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? breakups happen every day — you don't have to lose it."
you jab at the skip button like it's personally offended you, cutting off the mournful strains of the evermore bonus track mid-verse. normally, you'd let the singer's poetic misery hold your fragile heart in a pretty gentle chokehold, for she understood your heartbreak like a nobel laureate in emotional devastation. but not today.
not on this particularly dreary friday, right before christmas, where even ms. swift's dulcet agony felt obnoxiously on the nose.
pinned under the suffocating weight of your quilt, you let out a dramatic sigh that could rival a victorian heroine wasting away from heartache and humiliation.
with the theatrics of someone clawing their way out of a shipwreck, you work one arm free, waving it weakly into the air like your tragic signal of defeat.
the cocoon of your quilts and covers isn't warm nor comforting. it's a smothering trap, a quilted tomb of your own making.
"this is it," you mumble to the empty air of the apartment, your voice muffled by layers of fabric, "this is how i go."
the universe, for its part, remains unbothered by your suffering.
with a theatrical groan that would earn you a standing ovation in a one-person tragedy, you yank the quilt over your head. plunging yourself into darkness once more.
but unfortunately, the muffled strains of your 'sad girl winter' playlist refusing to take the hint seep through, like overly persistent ghosts of your bad decisions in the past. it seemed that evermore was feeling less like a balm for your soul, and more like the soundtrack to your public humiliation.
somewhere in the tangled chaos of your bed, half pillows and half-sulking regret, your poor and neglected nintendo switch lies face down like it gave up on your hours ago. its screen has long since gone dark, but if you listen hard enough, you can almost hear your animal crossing villagers whispering conspiratorially, drafting a formal petition to evict you.
no doubt tom nook is already sharpening his capitalist claws, repossessing your house with an unsettling amount of glee.
but the rest of your room is not much better. the string lights on your walls flicker half-heartedly, casting an uneven glow over the wreckage of the past week.
it's not the charming nor dramatic kind of mess that makes for an artsy photo dump. no, this is the slow and unflattering unravelling of someone who let life beat them up with zero resistance. if rooms could file restraining orders, yours would have done it by now.
teetering laundry piles of discarded sweatshirts are haphazardly stacked in the corner. nearby, an empty hot cocoa mug sits, sticky with the remnants of whipped cream. candy cane wrappers are strewn across the room, the aftermath of a peppermint explosion that made your jaw ache.
but the true centrepiece of this disaster? your phone, face down on your nightstand. neglected and on silent. the one object in this room that's probably begging for attention, and one that you've been skilfully ignoring. and yet, right on cue, it buzzes again.
lighting up with a contact number that you've been ignoring all week.
choso.
and you squint at the notification, at the glowing screen that makes your eyes sting in the dim light.
sweet, dependable and utterly loyal choso.
your best friend of over a decade. the one person that you can't bring yourself to face.
the one person that also deserves so much better than this radio silence, and yet the last person that you can humanly confront. especially not after what happened last friday night.
and here, good friends, lies the crux of your problem.
that doomed night, seven days ago, has mostly dissolved into a series of blurry and fragmented snapshots. like a bad, half-finished film that you'd walked out of halfway through.
but the lead up? oh, you remember that part with the kind of clarity that should have been reserved for more important moments.
you could still feel the heat of storming out of that overpriced restaurant, half-drunk and fully pissed off, tears streaming down your cheeks and thickening your throat.
your ex-boyfriend? well, he had been your current boyfriend, before he decided to break up with you. in public. for all that classy, emotional damage that was so in character for him.
and with a line so perfectly cliché, it practically begged to be immortalised on a 'worst breakup excuses' list in cosmopolitan: i'm sorry, baby. i just don't see it working anymore. we're just too different. oh! and i found someone else.
oh, sure. but you should have been glad to have been rid of the man-child that thought frankenstein was the monster's name, the man who commented 'oxford study' on innocent tiktoks, and called pinterest 'girl instagram.'
god, what a fuckin' loser.
fuelled by a mix of public-induced heartache and questionable tequila choices, you had practically charged across street crossing. your feet hitting the pavement with the reckless kind of abandon reserved for teenagers sneaking out after curfew.
and there choso had been in your apartment. your best friend had been sitting cross-legged on your rug, surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbons. probably wrapping yuuji's christmas gifts with military precision. he had been balancing a roll of tape in his mouth, scissors over his lap dangerously close to the family jewels. but you had barrelled through the door like a feral cat in a downpour.
his eyes had widened, a little startled, as you made your entrance. the tape had fallen out of his mouth, chestnut hair falling over his face as he gaped. you couldn't blame choso, of course. you had looked entirely like a bedraggled, disheveled mess in a storm. cheeks streaked with mascara trails, but then everything went...fuzzy?
what did you remember? crying. lots of it.
and boy, was it a show. the kind of weeping where your face contorts into a puffed-up, berry-red disaster, and you would feel the headache creeping in even before the tears had finished.
choso's arms had caught you before you could face plant into the couch. solid, broad. warm and familiar.
you had caught the scent of clove and pepper, alongside faint citrus that you had been associating with him over the years. you had been saying something, raw and desperate.
your words had spilled out of you like water from a broken faucet.
and here you were now, reaping the glorious consequences of your own unfiltered word vomit.
seven days of stewing in your own shame and regret. but seven days were not enough to undo this level of self-sabotage. you briefly considered the options: faking amnesia, dropping out of university entirely, or best case scenario — moving to antarctica and herding emperor penguins.
you groan, sinking deeper into the abyss of your covers. and then, of course, your phone buzzed again. the dull and persistent vibration drilled into your skull like a tiny, digital drill.
cho 💜
(01:09am) hey, are you doing okay? (08:42am) tell me if you need anything! (04:23pm) hello? did i do something?
you peek at the screen, trying to avoid making eye contact with the tiny and terrifying letters. your sheet mask scrunches uncomfortably, making you look like a particularly pathetic mummy. choso's sweet and utterly patient messages were a sharp control to your gross sulk, and his concern makes you want to curl into a ball and crawl into a snowbank.
outside, christmas snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a soft and untouched white. it was like something out of a dream, a world of calm and peace. peace that your trifling ass didn't deserve.
if choso wanted to speak to you, he'd have to drag you out of your self-imposed misery himself. and even if he were to arrive at your apartment door, he'd only find a note tacked to the wall. with a map leading to the south pole.
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so, what exactly had happened last friday night?
the memory rolls out like an old film reel, all jagged and distorted. the kind that you can't skip, even if you wanted to. it comes in fragments, each one more excruciatingly clear than the last. the haze of vodka-infused whipped cream shots over hot drinks slowly melting away like a bad handover.
the door to your apartment? you remember that part with embarrassing clarity. you had kicked it open with awful, ragged flair. your heel slipping on the floor, and you had nearly stacked it. face-first into your own doorway, standing there with the grace of a giraffe on roller skates.
the second the door had slammed shut behind you, a gust of frigid winter shot through the apartment like a chill reminder of your situation.
choso had been sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, in the midst of complete, barbaric chaos. the roll of mauve wrapping paper teetered precariously on his dark jeans, and scissors dangled from his lap while a stripe of tape was wedged between his teeth. in between the mess of clippings and discarded tape, he seemed more like an absurdly morose-looking christmas elf that had been tasked with being santa's helper after an entire bottle of mulled wine.
but as you had walked in, or rather stumbled in, his gaze had shot up. his chestnut hair falling in messy curtains around his face, with one unruly strand intertwined with a red-white rogue ribbon. choso's face had twisted in alarm, his usual solemn manner replaced by someone who looked like they were trying to figure out whether they needed to brace themselves for good or bad news.
"hey," he had said, voice soft but sharp, like he was trying to handle fragile glass. choso had spat the tape out of his mouth unceremoniously, and he had been tugging the ribbon free rom his hair, concern all over his fine features, "what's wrong? are you okay?"
and you? a disaster. drunk, crying, furious. the recipe for an emotional molotov cocktail.
"i hate him," you had snarled, yanking off your beige coat, hurling it in the general direction of the couch. instead, your aim missed entirely. flopping halfway onto the floor, and halfway across choso's knee.
choso simply plucked the coat off his leg with two fingers, gingerly draping it over the arm of the couch. your best friend was frowning as he set down his oversized scissors, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. amber-hazel eyes flicked to yours, wide with alarm as he stepped closer, "are you hurt? is this about —?" he was hesitating, "your boyfriend?"
"no, my ex-boyfriend!" the words were ripped out of you, and your voice pathetically cracked halfway through as tears spilled down your flushed cheeks, "and 'm not hurt, cho. unless you count emotional damage," punctuating your statement with a tragic, breathy hiccup.
choso's perpetual frown deepened, as thick and unruly brows knit together, "okay," he said, voice low and steady, "do you want to sit down? i can get you some water, wait." his steps are slow, purposeful as he closes the distance between you gently, with measured care. or like he was defusing a bomb.
but you were having none of his gentle care, "no, i don't want water! i want — i want to un-date him," you wail, arms flailing as you start pacing like a caffeinated hamster, "god, i'm so stupid for dating him in the first place. and yes, i know, stop looking at me like that. i know you want to say i told you so, but he's such a —," you pause mid-rant, clawing the air for the right word, "a troll. a goblin, an ogre."
choso blinks, "maybe you should just get some fresh water in you," but there's an underlying layer of grimacing amusement painted over his quiet features, "and i didn't even say i told you so."
"no," you blurt, your head snapping so fast that your neck immediately files a complaint in the form of a sharp crick, "i don't want water. i want —"
and then, your brain short-circuited. because that's when you'd actually looked at him. like really looked.
warm hazel eyes framed by dark, sleepless circles that seemed to follow choso around like cursed ghosts. soft, feathery strands of mahogany hair that refused to stay tied back, and tumbled rebelliously into his face. that damn sweatshirt, loose and charcoal gray, and perfectly slouched over his broad shoulders. the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal forearms so solid that they could make a renaissance sculptor pack and quit.
and like a freight train at full speed, like whee-woo, the realisation hit you. choso kamo.
your best friend in the entire world. your steady and reliable, and kind to a fault best friend. better than any stupid ex that you'd ever had.
and because tequila is the nectar of chaos, and heartbreak has no filter, your mouth decided to unleash the words that you would haunt you for the next week.
"i should have been dating you."
the room is silent, as choso freezes entirely. like someone had smacked the pause button on him, and his hand, mid-reach for a glass of water, stops cold. his eyes are wide, mouth parting as though he hadn't yet processed what you had said.
"what?" choso finally manages, the words soft and stunned, like he wasn't sure that he had heard you correctly.
you, in your infinite wisdom (or rather, drunken idiocy), barrelled on like a bull who had just seen red cloth, "i'm so serious! you're the one i should've been with all along!"
you wave a hand at him, as if showcasing him to an invisible jury, "you're smart and you're sweet, and you actually care about me, unlike him!"
choso blinks, his expression unreadable, "okay," he says slowly, setting the glass back down on the table, "i think maybe, uh, you should sit down?"
"i don't wanna sit down, i want you to stop looking so perfect right now."
there's a faint flush creeping up choso's neck, like red pigment staining cream watercolour canvas, "perfect?"
"yes!" you hiccuped, teetering over the couch, "you're supposed to be my best friend, and instead you just stand there with your stupid forearms, and your everything, and it's not fair!"
choso doesn't move, doesn't even speak. just stands there, vaguely dumbstruck. like you had hung the moon, and then yanked it back down to earth to hurl it at his chest.
"i should've been dating you, cho," you declare again, louder this time, and your finger jabs his broad chest like it was somehow his fault, "you're the best, y'know that? and you're so hot, how did i not realise this sooner?"
your best friend's expression goes on a journey of varying emotions, shock and disbelief, panic and confusion. all while his candied pink lips open and close, "uh," because by now, eloquence had left the room for both parties. his hands hovering awkwardly like he wasn’t sure whether to steady you or flee. his ears noticeably red, the flush creeping down his neck.
but drunk-dumped you wasn't done. oh no, this was your oscar moment. the hill you were going to die on. the ted talk that no one asked for.
and you were on a roll now, "i mean, look at you! you've got the broody, hot guy thing down so well, and you know that's my type. and everyone knows it, like why aren't we dating already?"
choso's mouth curls again, but no sound comes out. he looks like he wants to crawl into a snowbank and bury himself there forever, "okay, i think maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself, or, uh, the furniture."
"i'm fine!" you'd declared, throwing your arms up in defiance just as your knees decided that they were absolutely not fine. you wobbled, and in an instant, choso's warm hands are on your shoulders, steadying you with ease.
the searing heat of his touch makes your heart lurch in a way that felt far too real for comfort. you look up at him, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles dusting his nose, and your breath hitches.
he's close enough now that his lips could press against yours with the mere turn of his head. but you know that choso's just too kind and thoughtful to kiss you in this state right now. he also looks like he's about to gently suggest that you pull yourself together. you wouldn't know, because you've just bulldozed right over him with zero brakes.
tears stream down your face still, but they're starting to slow. sticky and hot, tacking to your cheeks, as you deliver the final blow, "if i asked you to kiss me now — like genuinely right now, would you, cho?"
you would never know what choso's reply would be, because you hiccup violently. the kind that punches your chest and makes you sway. fate was never done with you, because your stomach lurches in warning. you had clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with panic.
choso, bless his heart, had looked ready to throw himself in front of you, "bathroom. now," he'd commanded, his voice taking on a rare, firm edge.
and that's right where your memory cut off, mercifully plunging you into the black void of your vodka-soaked brain. no idea if you'd made it to bathroom. no idea if you'd thrown up all over him, classy as always.
but the last thing you did remember, the thing that haunted you eve now, like a ghost tapping on your shoulder, was the look on choso's face. wide-eyed, jaw slack. like you had flipped his entire world upside down.
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choso sits cross-legged on the cold dorm floor, the faint creak of wood beneath him. in his hands is a neatly wrapped gift, small and unassuming. but painstakingly chosen for you. the crimson ribbon, shiny and festive, catches the light of the desk lamp.
it wasn't extravagant, nothing flashy nor pricey. but it was thoughtful, personal. something that he had picked out weeks ago, back when everything between you two had been normal.
back when you didn't look at your phone, and decide he wasn't worth answering.
choso's thumb grazes the corner of the box, smoothing over the edges of the paper that he had meticulously folded after watching youtube tutorials. but now? the box felt heavier than it had any right to. would you even want this anymore? would you even want to see him?
choso sighs, letting his head tip back against the edge of his bed frame. it was a tight and awful feeling, something small and sharp that had wormed its way into his chest.
it wasn't just the silence. it wasn't even the unanswered texts or the way you’d been avoiding him like he was the human incarnation of bad news.
it was the fact that you were you. his best friend. the person he always knew how to read — until now, when everything felt scrambled.
he stares at the gift again, his brows furrowing. he'd been turning this over in his mind for seven straight days, wearing grooves into his thoughts like a track stuck on repeat. did you regret it? did you even remember what you said?
and worse — what if you did mean it?
that last thought was the one that always hit hardest. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into his face. somewhere on his desk, his phone buzzed softly, and for a second, his pulse jumped. but when he checked, it wasn't you.
because of course it wasn’t.
"pathetic," choso muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
seven days.
seven long, agonising days since you'd stumbled into your apartment like the ghost of heartbreak past — tear-streaked, half-drunk, and dropping words so raw they’d knocked the air out of choso's lungs.
seven days since you’d looked at him like he was everything good in the world — right before nearly puking on him and passing out on the couch in a heap of drunken devastation.
and seven days of brutal radio silence ever since.
choso groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he slouched against the edge of his bed. he got it — why you'd be embarrassed. he, he was still processing it, the memory looping in his head like a cursed highlight reel.
"you're amazing, cho. you're perfect."
the words echoed, soft and slurred, over and over like a broken record choso couldn’t shut off. a selfish part of him — a really shameful, awful part — had been glad your ex was out of the picture. not that it was a surprise; choso had never liked that guy. too loud, too cocky. the kind of guy who thought buying overpriced cologne absolved him of skipping deodorant.
but then there was the other part of him — the one that made him feel like a jerk. the part that felt guilty for feeling anything at all. because he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you.
choso wasn't supposed to have spotify playlists privately curated with all your favourite songs. wasn't supposed to have started buying extra hair ties, just because the thought of you stealing one was so annoyingly appealing.
and he definitely wasn't supposed to have been quietly, hopelessly in love with you for five years and counting.
how many times had he messaged now? four? five? enough that he was starting to feel like that guy, the one who couldn’t take a hint. what if you'd sobered up and realised last friday was just drunk nonsense? what if you didn't like him like that at all?
had he not spent seven days drowning his misery in tubs of mango and pistachio ice cream? enough was enough.
choso's thumb hovered over your contact for a long, stupid second, debating whether to send one more pointless text. but before he could add another "hey, just checking in," he swiped away and hit a different contact. a boisterous teenager with a shock of pink hair.
he shoots off a quick text, almost grimacing as he hits send.
Choso Kamo: Need advice. Got a hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: if this is smth weird i'm not googling it for u
choso rolled his eyes, already regretting this decision. but he needed to hear an outside opinion.
Choso Kamo: It's not weird, serious this time. If someone confesses something private to you while they are drunk, then avoids you for a week, what do you do? Hypothetically?
a pause, and then:
yuujithegoat2003: is this someone a hot girl lol
choso sighed, his dry lips twitching despite himself.
Choso Kamo: Yes. Also, serious answers only. yuujithegoat2003: ok ok. do they remember what they said? Choso Kamo: Most likely not.
yuujithegoat2003: huh...so did they say something good? or was it rude? Choso Kamo: It was good. Really quite good. yuujithegoat2003: bro this seems easy, just ask if they meant it.
choso blinked at his phone, at the...almost reasonable response. suspiciously reasonable, coming from his younger brother.
Choso Kamo: And if they freak out? Or say that they didn't mean it? yuujithegoat2003: then u say 'just kidding' and blow the place up and leave the country. i can get u a fake id, i know a guy. i know lots of guys.
Choso Kamo: You need to stop being influenced by Gojo Satoru. Just because his public break-up landed on national news does not make it a premise for my own situation. Hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: ok, gojo just said no one gaf abt your love life anyway. seriously tho if u like this hypothetical person, just be chill. don't be all intense and scare them off bc its never that deep.
Choso Kamo: Love is that deep. Especially when you care for the other person a lot. yuujithegoat2003: ur so dramatic bro. anyway good luck.
yuujithegoat2003: also if you get rejected don't tell me bc i can't handle second hand embarrassment. thx. gtg to work. these pizzas don't deliver themselves ay
choso glances down at the gift still in his lap, the ribbon he'd so painstakingly tied now a little crushed — much like his pride. the box stares back at him accusingly, as if to say, what's the plan here, genius? wait for her to magically show up?
choso exhales through his nose, sharp and frustrated. sitting here wallowing wasn’t doing him any favours, and neither was yuuji's unhelpful voice.
"yeah, sure," he mutters under his breath, shoving the box into his jacket pocket. he stands abruptly, grabbing his jacket off the back of his desk chair.
if you weren’t going to talk to him, fine. he'd bring the conversation to you. answers, he thought, stepping out into the cold. the winter air bit at his face, but it was bracing, grounding even. one way or another, tonight was going to settle this.
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the knocking was relentless.
you tried to ignore it at first, clutching your blanket like it was a shield against all outside forces. whoever was at the door would get the hint eventually. probably. hopefully.
but no, the knocking persisted, evolving into a deliberate rhythm, like some overzealous drummer auditioning for a garage band.
"unbelievable," you groaned, peeling your headphones off and tossing them onto the pillow where they landed with a hollow clatter. if this was the pizza guy you'd ordered from two hours ago, he was wildly late, and you were too broke to tip him anyway.
dragging yourself off the mattress felt like an olympic event. your legs wobbled, your blanket fortress collapsed behind you, and your pride was buried somewhere under the covers still. at least you'd showered earlier — small victories.
your damp hair dripped cold trails down the back of your oversized sweatshirt, and you caught a whiff of cocoa butter as you shuffled to the door. that was…something acceptable at least. but then the mirror by the entryway betrayed you, reflecting sleep-swollen eyes, and the faint ghost of face mask residue clinging stubbornly to your skin.
perfect. a vision of grace and dignity.
you yank the door open, ready to unleash a pointed what do you want? — but the words lodge somewhere in your throat.
smooth. and oh, just your luck.
there stood choso, a walking anomaly in the drab matrix of your sad little existence. his tall frame fills the doorway, backlit by the flickering hallway light, clad in a baggy black tee and faded denim that didn't quite match the nervous energy rolling off him in waves. his hair was tied up in a messy bun, spiky strands sticking out like an afterthought, and of course, he looked unfairly good for someone who had probably spent the past week avoiding the sunlight.
"uh, hey," he says, his voice softer than usual — careful, even. like he thought you might throw the nearest piece of furniture at him and sprint into the night.
"hey?" you echo, voice brittle as you folded your arms tighter. the sweatshirt you were wearing — his sweatshirt, one that he had left here weeks ago — suddenly felt two sizes too big and painfully obvious, "what are you doing here?"
choso scratches the back of his neck, his gaze flickering over you briefly before darting to the floor, "i needed to see you."
"at…eight at night? without warning?"
"would you have answered if i'd texted you?"
the air between you stilled as your brain scrambles for a retort, but he had you dead to rights. with a reluctant huff, you step aside. "fair point. just come in."
choso hesitates for half a second before stepping inside, his presence making your already small apartment feel even more claustrophobic. he's taking a quick glance around, and you watched, mortified, as his eyes landed on the pile of crumpled tissues precariously close to a half-drunk mug of cocoa and a bottle of jack daniel's teetering on the edge of the coffee table.
"sorry for the mess," you mutter, your voice defensive as you crossed your arms tighter.
"it's fine," choso says, a little too quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. his gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary, "i didn't mean to…interrupt."
"you didn't interrupt anything." you wave vaguely at the disaster zone that was your apartment.
choso's lips twitch, almost like he wanted to smile but wasn't sure if now was the time, "look, i just —" he trails off, his usual dull voice faltering as he pulled something small and neatly wrapped from his pocket, "i came to give you this. and talk."
you stare at the gift in his hands, shiny crimson ribbon and all, your pulse kicking up like it had somewhere urgent to be, "christmas came early? thanks, cho," you say, mirroring his words with the kind of ease that only comes from too many shared silences. "i'm fine, though. i wasn't up to much."
choso cracks a small, half-hearted smile, but it's like watching a flicker of light in a dim room — there, but not really there. "i tried texting," he says, glancing at you, searching for something.
"i know," you murmur, suddenly finding the floor very interesting, "i just wasn't in the mood for much talking."
choso huffs, a sound halfway between exasperation and amusement, "i noticed," he says dryly, and that only makes the air in the room more thick and uncomfortable.
you sigh, letting your shoulders slump as you flop back onto the couch, curling your knees up to your chest like you're trying to make yourself small enough to disappear, "so, what? you came here to check if i'm still breathing?"
"kind of," choso admits, settling awkwardly on the edge of your coffee table, his long legs folded beneath him in that way that makes him look like he’s trying to physically contain himself. his knees bump into yours, and you have to fight the urge to pull away, like you could get too close, "but mostly...i came to talk about last friday night."
your stomach does a horrifying little flip, the kind that sends cold fingers crawling up your spine. you stare at him, silently willing him to read the begging look in your eyes and back off, but he doesn't. he's never been the type to take the hint.
"i've been thinking about it all week," he continues, his voice quiet but steady, as if he's preparing himself for something big, "and i need to know if —"
"nope," you interrupt, holding up a hand, "nope. we're not going there."
choso blinks at you, like he's trying to process the sudden barricate that you've just put up. but you're so not ready for this conversation, not now, nor ever. and you'll be damned if he gets any closer to the minefield. he scowls, his brows knitting together like he's resisting the urge to push you off the couch, "why not?"
"because it doesn't matter, okay?" you lean your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like you can will this conversation away, "i was drunk as hell, cho. you're overthinking it."
he scoffs, his voice sharp now, like he's cutting through your flimsy deflection with a blade, "i don't think i am."
you wince, shrinking a little under the weight of his stony gaze, "why does this even matter?"
"you think i can just brush it off like it didn't happen?" and there's a rawness in choso's voice that hits you harder than expected.
your cheeks heat up, a fiery blush creeping up your neck, "i didn't mean it," you mutter.
"yes, you did," choso snaps back, with uncharacteristic heat, and he leans forward, enough to close the distance between you two, "and you know how i know? because you've been ignoring me all week. if it was just some drunk nonsense, you would have laughed it off by now. but you haven't."
you open your mouth to argue, to push back. but the words stick heavy in your throat. nothing comes out, and it must prove choso all the more right, because you watch as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth, suddenly watching plush skin split.
"do you want me to apologise?" you ask finally, voice a little too sharp for comfort, "because i will. i'll say i'm sorry for putting you in that position and —"
"i don't want an apology," choso cuts you off, and the dim light of your apartment makes the dark circles under his eyes stand out like bruises, "i want the truth."
you freeze, your heart thudding like a drum in your chest, "what truth, cho?"
"that you meant it," choso says softly, "that you meant it when you said that you wish it had been me."
the words hang in the air, heavy and electric. your breath catches, as your mind goes blank. an entire power outage, as you blink at him like a fish out of water. finally, after what feels like an eternity, you force the knot in your throat to loosen just enough to speak, "yeah," you whisper, "i meant it."
choso's whole body seems to deflate, like he's been holding up the weight of the sky. his shoulders slump, and the sheer relief on his face hits you like a tidal wave. it's almost enough to undo you. there's a sound, soft and shaky and far too vulnerable that escapes him.
neither of you move. the moment stretches out, fragile. like it could snap in half if either of you dared to breathe too loud.
then, choso is the first to move.
there's no hesitation, no uncertainty. just pure intention, like a dam finally bursting open. he shifts forward, hands finding their way to your waist with an urgency that makes your pulse go into overdrive. choso's grip is firm, but there's a reverence to it, as if you're something he's waited his entire life to touch. he pulls you to him, and you can feel the heat of him flood your chest, your blood, your bones.
"what if you regret this?" you murmur into his chest, voice muffled as your arms slip around his necks, holding onto the beautiful man like he may float way.
"not a chance," choso replies, and his voice is raspier than you've ever heard it, like he's saying it more to himself than to you.
choso kamo finally kisses you.
the kind of kiss that feels like a storm is finally breaking over clear skies, with an unrestrainted longing that crashes over the both of you.
his sweet lips meet yours with a hunger that makes your head spin, raw and real. choso clearly doesn't want to hold back, and neither do you.
his hands tighten at your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly at russet strands.
choso groans into your mouth, a soft and burning thing that ignites every nerve in your body.
without breaking his hold on your lips, his wide hands slide down, finding the back of your thighs, making you shamefully clench them closer together.
but he's tapping them in silent invitation, and you leap into him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. the world around you blurs as he stumbles backwards.
and when the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed, gravity does its job. you both tumble into the mattress in a jumbled mess of limbs and muffled laughter, your heart pounding so loud, as you muster up the courage to prod your tongue at his lips, letting him part his mouth so you can take up more of choso.
you land beneath him, his weight pressing into you in the best way possible, sending sharp spikes of heady arousal through you. and you blink up at him, breathless.
choso is so close now, his hazel eyes locked on yours with a rare intensity, like the calm façade is entirely shattered now. but there's a smile on his lips, a crooked little thing that sends a rush of warmth through you.
"hi, choso," you whisper, your voice soft yet breathless as he chases your lips again, a desperate hunger in his eyes. it's as if he can't bear to be apart from you, even for a heartbeat.
"hey," he murmurs back, that low rumble sending shivers down your spine, igniting a heat you can't ignore.
you keep pressing kisses to his glossy lips, the world narrowing down the press of his mouth and how choso's hands cradle your waist like you might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
without breaking contact, choso shifts, his strong hands guiding you gently, firmly.
"don' wanna crush you," he spills against your mouth, his voice low and rough, and before you can reply, he flips you effortless.
the movement is seamless, fluid even. and you're suddenly perched atop him, straddling his thighs and sinking into the worn denim of his jeans.
he's leaning back against the covers beneath him, as his chest rises and falls in unsteady waves as he gazes up at you. expression caught somewhere between awe and hunger.
choso looks so completely, heartbreakingly in love with you that it leaves you breathless. his hands tighten on your waist, fingertips pressing with a near bruising intensity into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt that clings to your frame.
his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling pink, and you can't help the soft, teasing coo that slips from your lips as you trace the curve of his temple with gentle fingers, "is something wrong, cho?" you murmur.
his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss, part slightly, his breath uneven and catching on the edges of unspoken emotions, "nothing. nothing, i swear," he says, the words tumbling out rough and raw, his voice pitched low and vulnerable.
his hands slide you closer, his grip firm but trembling slightly, and his next confession nearly undoes you, makes your core moisten even, "just…never done this before."
"really?" you whisper, eyes widening as you take him in — the flush on choso's cheeks, the way he won't quite meet your gaze, the way he holds you like you're something precious.
the realisation that he's never shared this part of himself with anyone else tugs sharply at your heartstrings, "never?"
choso swallows thickly, nodding once, his voice a quiet hum as he admits, "mhm."
"ah, you're so cute, cho," you giggle, watching as the man scrunches his nose in mock protest.
"tch, 'm not meant to be cute."
you huff, feigning disappointment, "and here i was, wishing you a very merry christmas eve." he whines as you lean in, pressing a teasing kiss to his neck, right where his heartbeat thrums beneath his pale skin. your lips find their home at the juncture, and you can't help but smile at the way he whines at your touch, bucks his hips up into yours.
"must have been real good to get a holiday gift like this."
you pull back just enough to admire your handiwork, a little red bloom that blossoms on thin skin, bruised petals that mark him now. choso's swallowing thickly, his adam's apple bobbing, as a soft whine escapes his lips again as you lean in, this time closer to the jaw. leaving a trail of kisses in a messy that makes choso squirm.
you press your thumb against his lower lip, feeling the soft and trembling skin quiver under your touch, "hey. open up," you coax, a teasing lilt colouring your voice.
choso looks up at you, his wide eyes clouded with desire as dark strands of hair fall across his forehead, "huh, what?"
you tap his lip again, impatience bubbling in your chest, "c'mon, open your mouth. properly," and the way he immediately obeys, parting his glossy lips sends a thrill through you. the scent of clove and citrus envelops you as you lean in closer, running your tongue over his lower lip.
you let a glob of spit fall from your lip into his mouth, with a thick thwack! echoing in the air. you deliberately miss, just a little bit, to watch him squirm as he swallows, eyes fluttering shut and inky lashes staining his cheeks.
"so good, aren't you? good at playing nice, hah," you use your thumb to smear the slick over his lips, just a bit. to watch him shudder, entirely captivated by you. it's exhilarating and makes your cunt clench around nothing. probably seeping through the thin material of your shorts and onto his thick jeans.
bang bang bang!
a sharp knock that booms at your door, enough to make your ears ring. you hear choso groan beneath you, shifting slightly so you can feel the full, thick curve of his bulge right where you need him most.
"think we can ignore that?" he rasps, his voice rough and low, the sound of it leave slick strands clinging between your thighs.
you spread your legs just a little wider over him, watching as his frown dissipates and his jaw drops, distracted by the preview you've given him, "i'm really hoping so."
but whoever is at the door has no intention of being ignored. another knock rattles the wood, followed by an all-too-familiar voice yelling, "hey! open up! delivery!"
your brows furrow, recognition sparking, "cho, isn't that—"
he cuts you off with an apologetic sigh, lifting you off his lap with surprising gentleness. choso sets you down on the quilt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before muttering under his breath, "it better not be."
you watch him go, more than a little distracted by the sight of his broad shoulders and the way his messy hair bobs with each step. already, you're plotting exactly how you’ll get your hands back in it once he returns.
choso swings the door open, and you hear a collective, "what the hell?" echo through the apartment — one part you, one part choso, and one part…
"itadori yuuji?" you blurt, leaning over to get a look. sure enough, there's choso's younger brother, standing in the doorway in a bright red pizza delivery uniform, balancing three large boxes in one hand and his phone in the other.
yuuji blinks at the two of you, then raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and something vaguely accusatory before reading off his phone in a robotic voice, "uh…merry christmas eve. i have three pizzas. extra cheese. stuffed crust," he pauses, not able to keep the act up as his golden eyes narrow, "but, uh — bro, what happened to your face?"
you bite your lip to keep from laughing as choso straightens, his expression caught somewhere between mortified and furious, "yuuji—"
but the younger man's attention shifts to you, his gaze taking in the oversized sweatshirt you're wearing, choso's sweatshirt, and his jaw drops, "oh hell no. this is the hot girl you texted me about?"
choso visibly flinches as you burst into giggles.
"that's like your best friend? that's like my sister-in-law!" yuuji throws up his hands in mock disbelief, "you really keep your circles tight, huh, man?"
before choso can even respond, yuuji leans in closer, squinting at his older brother, "and seriously, dude, what's all that on your face?"
choso groans, snatching the pizzas from yuuji with one hand and shoving him toward the hall with the other, "okay, that's enough. get out."
"you haven't paid me! that's against the law!" yuuji protests, but choso grabs the scruff of his brother's uniform collar, steering him out the door.
"i'll pay you double. triple. just leave."
"my pizzas are probably cold now anyway," you call out, adding fuel to the fire.
"yeah? well, you look a bit too busy to eat them anyway," yuuji swivels his head over his shoulder to wag a finger at you with a grin, before choso finally shoves him fully into the hallway.
as the door slams shut, you hear yuuji's muffled voice echoing, "i'm telling everyone. i'm telling dad. i'm telling sukuna. i'm telling gramps, gojo, nanami —"
you can hear their bickering voices fade down the hallway, to where choso is probably gonna pack him into the car and send him off.
you glance down at the box you'd set aside earlier, your curiosity getting the better of you. carefully pulling at the ribbon, you open it to find a small scrapbook, beautifully made. inside are photos and clippings of you and choso: movie ticket stubs, receipts from late-night takeout runs, train tickets from your trip to the coast.
your chest tightens as you run your fingers over the familiar handwriting scrawled in the margins, a quote from a cheesy romantic movie that you had forced choso to watch with you a few months ago. what an honour it is to be loved like this.
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nemesyaaa · 4 months ago
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ASYLUM AU ! dark!patient!rafe x new!nurse!reader
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summary ; everybody warned you about this patient, but you wanted to give him a chance as the new little nurse of the asylum. you just have to feed him nothing more, how can it turn bad ? or maybe your deep hidden secret was that you expected this... ? to be alone for some minutes with him.
warnings : dark content. knife play. violence. smut. sick behavior. mentions of threats. asylum place. mean!rafe. oral (m.receiving.). fear enthousiast. mentions of spit. dubcon. manipulation. agressive behavior. choking. size kink. slight of corruption. rafe being a menace as always.minors DNI. be careful with the warnings. maybe some mistakes too, i'm too dumb.
author's note : i wrote this with a big headache so please, it's maybe a little shitty and i'm sorry. this is strongly inspired by the show " ratched " and not the season of ahs. ngl at first, i wanted to make a mildred!reader but with rafe, it's a bit complicated. anyways !
“i don’t think it’s a good idea to send y/n to deal with rafe. she's still new in the asylum....and rafe? you know how he is, it's not a secret. . he could hurt her. ” said the man who worked with you and obviously who had a crush on you. you didn’t know if it was jealousy or a real sign of affection.
you had arrived at the asylum a week ago, and everyone had been nice to you, the patients and the workers. that's why you were very intrigued by rafe, because you knew he had a difficult connection with all the people here, and only a strict set of people could interact with him. you wanted to know more about him so badly because of the mystery around him. and maybe you were curious about what he looked like after what everyone was saying about this guy.
“shut up, man ! i think it’s a very good idea. ” your colleague said, discreetly giving you a knife, with a smile on her face.
“is he that dangerous? ” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
“you’re so innocent, y/n! ”
“i’m not. it's just that i don't understand the use of this knife. there is enough security i think. ”
nevermind, you were definitely ready. you had waited for this day since you arrived here. it was annoying to see everyone treating you like a baby and making you sit there doing nothing or like an intern giving you the worst chores.
“believe me, you’ll need it. it’s an asylum, everyone’s mad, and you know what? this one guy. " she whispered so close to your ear. "he's the worst of all." and she was gone, leaving you with a nice shiver in your stressed body.
you should hate this place, the nightmares and the problems that haunted these walls. but that's exactly what you came for, ever since you were heard that rafe cameron had been interned in this place, you had done everything to be transferred there he had killed an incalculable number of people, without mercy, without remorse, without regrets and what killed all these people, this sentence. this sadness, made you so curious.
how could a man be so cold and cruel? you needed to know it, see it and feel it.
but you finally saw the light. you had hidden the knife in your lace garter underneath your pretty blue nurse uniform. it was quite short, the skirt going up just below your butt, it was as indecent as it was seductive.
you had to go through several back doors, and deal with security. the guard had given you some advice, and asked you to be careful. you replied politely “can you leave me alone with my patient? i wish it were both of us so as not to rush him. you know he's already in a lot of pain, he's very mad. you don't want to make his situation worse, do you? i ask for the respect of his privacy. ” you had convinced him with your devotion, and kind smile. and you had entered the devil's room without really knowing what you were getting yourself into.
“another new girl? ” a deep, masculine voice had said through the bars of a cell, you could hear the ringing of handcuffs.
“you gotta love scaring them away, rafe cameron. ”
“wrong, sweetheart but nice try. i prefer when they stay. it's more fun when they realize they're stuck with me. ”
“do you realize how sick you are, rafe? ” you allowed yourself to be familiar with him while gathering his meal out of the cart to bring to him.
“you’ll be the one to tell me, y/n. after all, that’s what you’re here for. ” he had no shame, no restraint, and you could feel that he was trying to make you lose control, to upset you, to get on your nerves, and to make you crazy. he was just testing you.
“how do you know my first name? ”
“oh i think your boyfriend likes to say your name a lot when he comes to see me. ”
“i don’t have a boyfriend. ”
you approached to finally discover his face. you expected a monster, a misshapen man, a dark creature but it was none of that. he was a boy with a charming face, a neat hairstyle, and magnificent features. he looked so good physically but you also knew that mental illnesses couldn't be seen on someone's face. but it was as if his own beauty romanticized his perfect madness. reconnecting with reality, you glared away.
“open your mouth. ” you ordered.
with such a sick smile, he replied. “ i really love when my little nurses come to feed me. don't make me waste anything. there's nothing i can't eat here. ” he responded while looking at you, his eyes scanning you, from your breasts compressed in your uniform, to the tiny dress who covered your quivering body.
“i can remove your handcuffs if you promise to behave.”
“ what else, sweetheart? you're the boss, here. ”
“promise me. ”
“you really want to trust me? i wouldn't do that in your place. ” you could tell he was clearly having fun with you. that the more you wasted your time, the more he gained.
“promise me. ”
“ promised. ” he responded gently but there was something so wrong, so bad in his voice.
you had undone him from his handcuffs, and he had grabbed you, holding your body harshly against the bar. you felt pain when your back crushed the cold metal. his hand had circled your neck, completely locking it with his fingers.
“sorry sweetheart, i’m really not good at keeping my promises. and i can't keep my hands to myself with such a beautiful girl in my company, that would be disrespectful, don't you think? don't look at me with those eyes, you wished for it. i can even say that you manifested it because i can't believe you're that stupid or maybe you are. but in this case, let me make you even more senseless. ”
you were short of air and rafe had noticed. you wondered if he was going to kill you, but you remembered that he liked to play. in a false movement, you dropped your knife.
“it’s your lucky day! you won't be the only toy in the party, doll. ”
he had removed his hand from your mouth and while you were trying to catch your breath, he had picked up the knife. he had hooked one of your hands to the bars with the handcuffs. there were tears on your cheeks when the object approached your arm.
“you know you would be even prettier if you let me draw a smile on your face? ”
you shook your head to defend him from doing that. you didn’t want him to hurt you, or feel that sharp thing on you.
“can i give you a new haircut then? wouldn't you like to have shorter hair? don't make those eyes, this knife must be useful to us. your body is betraying you, you should hate it for giving me so many bad ideas. ”
he had cut the buttons of your dress with the knife, revealing your bra with the smooth, shiny surface. “ such a gorgeous thing with pretty parts. he had dragged your uniform to the floor. “you have pretty eyes, too bad they hate me so much. ”
you turned your head when he tried to lick your face, but he didn’t like it. he had violently grabbed your jaw, slamming it against the metal iron, and forcing you to look at him. “i really tried to be nice....ok no, maybe i'm lying, i never tried to be nice to you but i was patient. and now i’m pissed. and guess who's going to have to fix it?”
he licked the side of your cheek, before biting the corner of your mouth, his teeth sunk in your bottom lip. while he sucked his favorite part of your face, he slided his tongue in you, making a rough contact with your throat, his saliva mixed with yours. you moaned against him, freaking out when a bead of blood came out in your widen drippin slit. “ swallow it, sweetheart. 's not gonna kill you. ”. he kissed you intensely, forcing you to swallow the blood and the spit that dropped in your moth, his hand around your hips, pressing his fingers into your skin. he loved to watch the fear in your glossy eyes, watching the fall of your boundaries because of him. you were so nervous, shaking with tense.
“ get on your fucking knees, doll. do something good for me, only once in your fucking useless life.”
surely because of his firm tone and his temperament but above all because of the knife at your throat that threatened you, you had listened to him. you were facing his boner. “i think you’ve already done that. you just have to do it again with me. ” with a speed that had terrified you, he had squeezed your cheeks in his hand, digging them with his fingers. “be careful, sweetheart. i'm not as nice as your boyfriend, dare to put your teeth in, even if it's just a molar, and i can promise you that i would also allow myself to damage you. so, if you want to keep that face intact, you know what you have to do. ”
“ you hurt me!”
“yes, and i love it, doll. the more you complain, the more i will do it.”
suddenly tired of your stupidities, he forced your hands to unzip his pants, and remove his boxers. he was huge. not your usual type. he had opened your mouth which you refused to open with the knife. “try to bite me, and it will be worse. ”
he had pushed his hard cock into your mouth, and without waiting, started making you suck. his large cock occupied your tongue, you breathed hard as he shoved every inch deep, his hand was wrapped around your hair in a brutal grip, tugging fiercely every time you tried to take a break. but the rythm was unbearable, his slippery leaking tip was hitting the back of your throat, and his bulge seemed to grow every time you took him in your mouth. you could feel the drool dripping around his cock, the way your saliva pooled. your lips were swollen and wet, completely abused. his balls sopping wet with your spittle, lazily slapping in a pornographic sound. your mascara was running, your eyes were twinkling.
you could hear him enjoying the show of your downfall because he was the only master of it, his grunts becoming one of the sounds in the room, along with your muffled cries, the smack of his balls in the air, the dull buzzing in your head. everything was happening so fast. “stop. ” he had removed his fat length from your mouth, pressed the tip against your tears before making you suck again. “is my dick better with your flavor, sweetheart? ” you didn’t know if you really hated him. the thing that disgusted you about him, this madness, this attitude, also excited you. you felt strongly giddy.
your panties were immerged, the wetness flowed between your thighs. “ you're supposed to take care of me, but it looks like you need someone to take care of you. ”
you sucked back and forth, your tongue rolled on his big girth. he was painfully hard, and your throat started to hurts. he pushed himself deeper in your mouth, smirking everytime you were about to pass out. when he had finally had enough, he pulled back, taking his penis in his hands, you had chased the trickle of drool between the two of you and sniffling. your cheeks were wet with tears and saliva, everything was mixed in a mess. “ look like your sick patient is feeding you, how do you feel about this, little nurse ? what about your job ? too bad, there are no cameras here, but also pretty lucky for the two of us, nobody can disturb. but soon, the guard security’s gonna check on you because they care a lot about your safety. but i'm curious now, what they will think if they found you without your uniform, but mostly, what will they think about me inside their favorite little nurse ? especially, your sweet boyfriend. it would be so disappointed to see the one he love is not interested because she prefered to be fucked by his ennemy. seems like, you can hurt a lot of people too, sweetheart. ”
you understood why he was locked up differently from the others. he was so manipulative. but also aggressive. he had torn your underwear with the knife. you shivered as you felt the cold metal surface on your skin. you were literally scared, your pulse had accelerated, your breathing too. you weren't a fan of knives but the problem was that the more afraid you were, the more you motivated him to want to hurt you.
“relax” he had said as he placed the knife back against your collarbones, pressing it against your bone. then slided it down your neck, the metal tip lightly stinging your skin. “you know i can’t kill you, doll. i can only torture you. “
that didn't reassure you at all, you preferred that he killed you. as if he had read your mind, he replied. “you should be more scared of what i can do to you than what the knife could. i will hurt you better. ”
he had moved the knife to your stomach, then to your wet pussy. “there’s more than just fear from what i see. and you can't deny it. " he continued, sliding the sharp object at your entrance.
“ please, rafe ! not in…i-i-i-m begging you ! ”
“ you beg ? so sweet. but do you know what ? i don't care, honey. ”
“ you…i'm sure…i mean, you're not that sick ! please…”
“ if you say please once again, i'm pretty sure i can cum between your legs. ”
the tip of his knife had caressed the inside of your sloppy cunt. “don’t worry, i won’t go any further. ” he withdrew the knife, and licked the blade. “i fear, everything is sweet about you, pretty nurse. now, spread those legs for me. ”
“we can't do that, the guard is right next door! he can hear everything and imagine if he comes” you started to panic. with a mocking tone, he replied “for the time, i can handle it but for the noise, it's on you, sweetheart. do you think you can do that ? don't answer, i don't fucking care at all because i will fuck you in any case. ”
“you shouldn't do that, it's really bad, you might regret it! ” you tried to stop him, but the knife hit your throat. “don't try to escape something that's going to happen, it's a waste of time. and i hate it. ” he lost his patience and opened your legs with one hand, she was big and strong enough to control you on her own. he had slightly moistened his cock before going inside of you.
“ one move, one scream or one fucking bite and i will rip your throat, got it ? ”
you nodded, and his thrusts started to get rougher, he pounded you deep in your stupid little cunt, hitting the spot with no mercy. you wanted to shout but the knife was clearly too close to do anything stupid. you bitten your own lips, a drop of blood dripped in your mouth. he smacked your ass a couple of times to the point you felt the bruises and the pain quickly. his teeth were on your shoulder, leaving marks. it was painful, but you don't wanted to be a crybaby. you held back your tears, while he crushed you against the metal.
he stretched you to your limits and you barely held back a cry. he smiled before covering your mouth with your underwear. his body was sweaty, you could see the sweat sheen his body. your body slammed against his, and against the bar. he had pushed your thong between your lips but also his fingers which you sucked with enormous devotion, you licked every inch of his skin, you covered them with drool, you made them completely soaked. he eventually added a lot of his spit. you must have looked like nothing at all. you were even less credible in your role of nurse. he was no more groans as he reached your first orgasm, but more desperate whispers, quick back and forth in your uncontrollably leaked swollen cunt, as his eyes were all over your face. his dick was harder because of seeing you with his fingers and your panties stuffing perfectly your slutty mouth.
he lifted up your leg to watch himself getting buried inside your walls. “ i'm afraid that now you can't deny that this pussy is mine. ” he said, removing your thong from your mouth.
“ i'm not y-yours...rafe ! ”
“ i fear it will be against your will then, sweetheart because your fucking cunt really like me. ”
he grabbed your face, forced you to look at your messy part. “ still deny, fucking slut ? you really want me to pull that knife inside. ”
again, you shook your head.
“say it. you know your words. ”
“this pussy is yours, only yours! ”
he plowed you for a long moment, and you can't even think anymore. you were too dumb, too dizzy. your head spinned, and your body only moved because of him pounding retlessenly. you squirted a lot, you splashed a little on him but it was nothing unlike him. when he came, it had gushed into your pussy, the thick and white loads filled you, while his sweaty and heavy balls emptied inside you.
“ sweetheart, you're really my favorite nurse. don't forget to tell the director how mean i was to you. ”
“ why did you cum in me ? ”
“ for any inconveniences, you can tell the director. she will be glad to know how i fuck all her little nurses. and you're not an exception. ”
“ what if i'm pregnant ? ”
“ you're so naive. pregnant or not, nobody's gonna forgive you for that sin. ”
“ i'm leaving. ”
“ don't forget the knife, you know how to play with it now. ”
“ i hope you will stay here forever.”
“ you can pray for it, sweetheart but i fear god doesn't listen to sinners. ”
i wanted to tysm @dark-fics-4-you and @bunnyrafe for helped me with this one. <333
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iamnmbr3 · 11 months ago
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I reached the Snape's Worst Memory chapter. Honestly I find this to be one of the hardest things to read in the whole series. The protracted, wanton cruelty is awful - and especially horrifying is the way most people in the scene look on and do nothing, or laugh.
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The fact that Snape can never just relax on a nice day. He has to hide himself in the shadows for fear of being attacked and tormented is so sad.
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We know what kind of person Wormtail grew up to be and we see here that he was always attracted to hanging around powerful, cruel people who could provide him with sadistic entertainment. He traded James & Sirius for Voldemort once he got out of school of course. But I think it says a lot about the kind of people they were at the time. This wasn't an isolated incident that went especially far, but a regular type of entertainment.
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It's really just sick what happens here. They're basically magically waterboarding him at this point. James is exactly the kind of person Harry would have stood up to if they'd gone to school at the same time. I mean after this memory he is so shaken he falls into a depression and wonders if James and Lily ended up together because he forced himself on her.
And to be clear I actually like the narrative potential of Harry discovering that the father he looked up to so much actually was the type of person he despises. I wish a bit more had been done with this though.
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The fact that James takes out his frustration with Lily's rejection by tormenting and humiliating Snape more says a lot about him. I also think it's really interesting Sirius is the one who says "[i]f you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals" but he never really connects that sentiment with how he and James treated Snape.
(As an aside I will also never get why JKR thinks James and Sirius are redeemable for this behavior even though we never get to see anything in canon to prove that James or Sirius ever truly acknowledged the depth of how wrong what they did was or regretted it, but somehow she gets all mad at people for suggesting that Draco, who did canonically regret his actions and change his ways and who never did anything like this, was anything other than irredeemable.)
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mcflymemes · 2 months ago
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DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD PROMPTS PT 2 *  assorted dialogue from the second hour of the video game
that suit of armor is moving.
where'd you come from?
i've only been gone three days!
the situation's changed - for the worse, unfortunately.
i've had a couple of days, and i'm still trying to wrap my head around it.
it does sort of explain a few things though.
there's something kind of exciting about it. and dangerous. really dangerous.
hope that means you've got an idea.
a few dozen demons shouldn't be a problem.
do you know what this place was?
it's probably something important.
well, isn't this a sight?
the artifact we're looking for must be inside.
think we can make that jump?
i plan to find out.
we're getting closer.
it's a lot trickier than that.
i've never seen this before.
it's almost like it's... breathing.
wasn't expecting to fight an ogre today.
just one of those days.
what does that crystal do?
i have questions.
it's kind of my thing. fixing magical stuff.
let me know when you're ready to head to the camp.
some of our most experienced fighters are still missing.
whatever's going on out there, it's scary.
sounds like things have gotten a lot worse since we left.
it's only a matter of time until our luck runs out.
if we could predict where they'd strike next, we might get ahead of them.
i don't know what you're going to find there. likely nothing good.
you sure you're up for this?
i've never seen fog this thick.
something happened here.
stay sharp.
it's so quiet.
where is everybody?
everything's just abandoned.
keep them inside.
everyone has to stay.
we need to search for survivors.
ever seen anything like it?
we're going to help you! we'll get you down!
i know you.
they made me do it.
i was tricked! manipulated!
i never meant for that! i swear! you must believe me!
what if the dragon comes back?
let's get him out of there.
we don't kill people. not like this.
try harder next time.
don't let me regret saving you.
what a pleasure to see you again.
so who are you exactly?
this dark turn of events shall only become worse.
what can you tell us about... all this?
how do we stop them?
how do we stand up against that?
none of us can do this alone, but we can stop them together.
these are the times in which legends are born... or slain.
i should've taken the shot.
we all did what we thought was best in the moment.
look where it got us.
we're still standing. the fight's not over.
i like that about you. you don't stop fighting. you push for answers and action.
we need someone who can put the pieces of the puzzle together.
we're fighting the unknown.
everyone has a part to play.
i think i can manage that.
i can feel lingering magic. powerful magic.
i can hear it.
i don't know how to control it!
you said something "took you over?"
i'm sorry. i wish i had answers.
talking has helped.
i guess we don't have any real answers.
we're friends, so i'm going to be honest.
it feels wrong.
i trust you have all this handled.
at least people are free because of what i did.
it must have been worse than i had thought.
so... you're going to be insufferable about it.
see, this is the reason nobody likes you.
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ghoulangerlee · 1 month ago
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HERE WE GO. dewther phone sex that probably could have gone on for another six thousand words if I'd continued writing instead of forcing myself to end it :)
there is some lore-y stuff in here because I am not me if I don't include my own personal lore, and at the end there's mentions of heats and knotting but neither of those actually happen :)
Dew is a lil mean in this but as it turns out, Aether really likes em mean.
-
The phone rings, pulling him from the inventory reports in front of him—it's the desk phone of all things, not his cell that sits face down a little further away and for a moment, he thinks to ignore it, to continue his work so he can finish quicker and get to bed sooner, but at the late hour it could be some kind of emergency— 
He picks it up, balancing his pen in his other hand as he cradles the desk phone between his ear and shoulder, “Infirmary, this is Aether speaking, how can I help you?”  
There’s silence on the line for a moment and Aether tilts his head, “Hello? Is someone there?”  
A sigh, familiar in its tone echoes across the line, “Hey Aeth,” Dew mumbles, sounding tired, “Didn’t know if you’d still be awake.”  
Aether glances up at the clock across the room, the hands ticking by slowly, it’s late, much later than he’d expected, “Ah,” he says, “I was finishing up some inventory reports in the infirmary, some new guy decided to double the amount of gauze we need so now we’re swimming in it but don’t have any more antibiotics,” he glances down at the papers in front of him, red lines crossed through black numbers, “Been down here most of the day counting things to get everything right again.”  
Dew hums, a pleased little sound, “I like hearing you talk about the work you do,” he says, tone bordering on that sappy-tired one he gets whenever he’s worked to the bone and sleepy, “I miss you.”  
“I miss you too,” Aether murmurs with a small smile, leaning back in his chair and focusing all of his attention on Dew, “How is guard duty with Frater Imperator?” he asks, a brief flash of worry catching him.  
“He’s safe,” Dew says, yawns widely over the line, “A little annoyed by the travel, a lot annoyed that there may still be something or someone after him despite everything,” he’s candid about it, and if Aether closes his eyes, he can almost see Dew sitting in front of him, waving a lazy hand in emphasis as he speaks. “Of course, we’re doing fine, this other church is okay, a little drafty and the ghouls here don’t really speak, but I guess it’s fine for a little while. The elders keep giving me dirty looks when they think Copia isn’t watching though.”  
A pang of regret goes through him, he’d almost went with Dew and Copia, but something had come up in the infirmary, someone had fallen ill and he’d been the best person to fill in, he wishes he were there with Dew right now. “Sounds exciting,” he says, “A little draft isn’t too much for a fire ghoul, right?” he asks teasingly, feeling the tension of the day fade the longer he speaks to Dew.  
“Cold day in Hell that a puny little church with an annoying clergy bothers me enough to make me leave early,” Dew says with a snort, “I wanted to talk to you though, time differences suck. We’re on different continents and everything so I can’t even really feel you right now either.”  
Aether gets it, he can feel the way his bond with Dew is weakened, barely there, dormant in the distance between them—in the back of his mind he can still feel him, but it’s a far cry from the usual. “I know, wisp,” he murmurs, “I wish we were closer too,” he admits, “Church is quiet without you here.”  
“Copia was giving me shit earlier,” Dew admits after a few moments of silence, “Said I looked sad, like someone stole something from me,” he pauses, clears his throat, “Told me to come call you, that you’d probably be up working still even at the late hour.”  
“He was right,” Aether says with a little laugh, “Not that he has any room to talk about what is and isn’t late,” he continues, and then glances up at the ceiling, “Are you still sad?” he asks cheekily, lazily spinning his chair to the side, “Do you need me to talk to you so you can fall asleep?”  
He means it as a joke, but there’s a serious undercurrent there, something they’d discovered before Copia’s lateral move, when Dew had toured but Aether stayed behind—sometimes, sometimes his brain wouldn’t let him sleep, not alone, and he’d call Aether, listen to the quintessence ghoul talk until his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a comfortable sleep—imagining his mate right there beside him.  
Dew hums lazily, “Maybe,” he starts, but this time, there’s something of a breathless quality to his voice, “Or maybe I want to talk to you about other things.”  
It takes Aether a moment, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear something on the other line, a slick sound, a hitch in Dew’s breathing, “Is this a booty call?” he can’t help but ask, the words spilling out before he can stop it, “Dew are you—” he cuts himself off, presses his palm against the bottom of the phone and glances around the office.  
It’s late, of course, and the door isn’t locked, but he’s the only one down here right now, having sent the rest of the staff off, only keeping a bare bones support staff in case of emergencies, but he can’t sense anyone else.  
“I am working,” Aether finally says, lowering his hand, feeling a flush come up the sides of his neck, “If someone were to walk into my office, they’d—”  
“They’d what?” Dew asks sharply, the hitch in his voice making it obvious what he’s doing, “They’d think you were on the phone, right, baby? That you’re working late, working so hard for everyone, making sure the inventory reports are all correct. You’re not doing something silly like touch yourself, are you? You’re on the phone and you’re working diligently.”  
Aether grits his teeth, pressing a fist hard into his thigh, “I’m not touching myself,” he says, and looks down at his desk again, numbers taunting him on the page, “I’ve stopped working for the moment to talk to you,” he inhales deeply, bites his lip when he hears Dew moan quietly over the line.  
“You’re being such a good boy,” Dew murmurs the praise, praise that shoots right down to Aether’s core, “I’m going to touch myself and you’re going to listen to me and keep working, aren’t you?”  
Aether bites harder at his lower lip, tilting his head back against the chair, “I am,” he finally agrees, after a long moment of listening to Dew breathe heavily, the slick sounds of his hand.  
Dew waits for a moment, almost as if he’s aware that Aether’s not working, waits for minutes until Aether sits up, scoots his chair forward and picks his pen back up, “If I were there with you, I’d situate myself under your desk,” he purrs, words going a bit high on the end. “You’d be a busy body about it, complain about me distracting you but we both know you want me to.”  
Aether digs the pen into the paper in front of him, keeping his gaze trained on the numbers on the page and he hums a little, “You are good at being a little shit sometimes,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.  
A laugh, breathless and the slick sounds seem to get louder, “Uh huh,” he agrees, “I am, but you love me like that, you love when I push your buttons. Take you down a peg, big guy.” Dew grunts a little and Aether can only imagine that he’s fucking up into his fist, “You turn to putty in my hands the second I get my mouth on you,” he breathes.  
“Lies,” Aether says, trying to keep his voice firm as he presses his legs together, “You’re just running your mouth.”  
Dew swears softly, “Aether,” he moans out, “Strong words for the guy who begged me to fuck him right before I left,” he teases, and Aether feels hot under the collar when he thinks about it, how desperate he had been for Dew’s dick. “It’s okay big guy, I love when you fall apart for me, when you can barely speak because you’re so dick drunk,” he coos, “Thinking about how your skin’s so cold, but every time I get inside you, you heat up like a fire ghoul,” he teases, “Like I’m branding you from the inside out, isn’t that right baby, you’re all mine and no one can fuck you as good as I can.”  
Aether squeezes the pen in his hand tight enough that he can hear the plastic creaking, “Dew,” he says sharply, but doesn’t speak beyond that, knows if he says anything else he’s going to make a fool of himself, he’s going to start babbling about how much he wishes Dew were here now, down under his desk, mouth on him, making him come.  
As the silence stretches between them, Dew moans again, this time higher, another swear, the steady creak of bedsprings, little ah, ah, ahs falling from his lips as he does, “Say something sweet for me baby,” he finally says, breathless and oh so close. “Let me hear your gorgeous voice, tell me what you want me to do for you, baby.”  
And oh Dew’s begging now, desperate in the same way he gets when they’re together, even when he’s being mean and teasing Aether—when he’s close, when he just needs a bit more to come.  
The pen clatters to the desk and Aether’s quick to shove his hand down the front of his scrubs, so glad he’d opted for them instead of the stuffy slacks he normally wore when on administration duties, “I want your mouth on me,” he finally admits, “Wanna fuck your face while you wait under the desk for me to finish working,” he manages to get out, moans when his fingers meet his dick, stroking over it quickly. “Want you to put a couple of fingers inside me, something for me to squeeze around,” he swallows heavily, tilts his head back against the chair as he arches his hips up into his own touch, imagining the heat of Dew’s mouth around him, “I feel so empty, firelight,” he admits, voice breaking a little as he does, pants out in the open, “Feels so empty when you’re away, want you to carve a place inside me and never leave.”  
Dew swears again, louder, a litany of fucks falling from his lips and Aether thinks he comes, thinks if he focuses hard enough he can feel it, the heat of it inside him, that maybe their distance is driving him a bit mad with how much he misses him.  
“Come for me baby,” Dew’s voice, rough with his orgasm, fills Aether’s ears, draws a sharp gasp out of him as he clenches around nothing and comes, goes completely breathless with it as he continues to touch himself until he’s too sensitive and he has to pull his hand away though it doesn’t go far, arm falling limp between his thighs once his hand is free from his scrub pants.  
It takes a while for his heart to settle down, for his breathing to fall under control again and he allows it, floats there as he wishes that Dew were here with him right now, a warm weight between his legs, fire all down his chest and stomach as he cradles him close, chasing away the chill that always falls over Aether after coming.  
“—ay we’re going to be back tomorrow, we’ve done all the ground work here, anyway, the rest is just boring admin work that can be done over Doom meetings.” Dew’s murmuring when he comes back into focus, “As soon as I see you baby, I’m going to get my hands all over you just like you deserve,” he promises, filthy and low in his ear, “Gonna have you coming so much you’ll be satisfied for days.”  
Aether hums, interested when his brain catches on the first part, still mostly focused on the second half of Dew’s words, “Tomorrow?” he asks, hating the way his voice sounds so hopeful.  
Fuck, it’d been weeks though, since he’d last seen Dew. Since they’d been together. He misses him.  
“Yeah, baby,” Dew murmurs, “Our plane landed a bit ago, we’re at a hotel for the night, but Copia’s got a car coming to get us in the morning. We’ll be home before you know it.” ��
Aether makes another noise, something choked, “Oh,” he says, looks down at the paper on the desk in front of him, half-finished inventory reports, “I’ve got to—”  
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Dew says firmly, “You’ve got tomorrow off and maybe the day after, Copia’s feeling a bit benevolent,” he says that with a bit of a grin in his voice, “Inventory will be fine for a couple of days, besides, Copia said he’d work on whatever you didn’t finish, just leave it where you’ve got it and he’ll take over. No arguing with me, alright?”  
And well, Aether can’t argue, because he’s feeling a bit selfish, a bit like he wants to shirk his duties for a few days so he can spend time with Dew instead, something warm settling in the pit of his stomach. “Okay,” he settles on, feels the weight lifted off of his shoulders at the word as he leans back in the chair, making it squeak a bit under his weight.  
“Good boy,” Dew says sweetly, “Now, listen, I want you to hang up the phone and go get cleaned up, settle in our bed and before you know it, I’ll be there, waking you up with a kiss.”  
Aether thinks about his nest, the one he’d been working on since Dew had left, how it still smells like the two of them and how much he wants to be there now, “Okay, yeah,” he says, “I can do that.” He swallows, bites his lip, “I love you, Dew.”  
Dew hums softly, “I love you too, big guy, I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”  
When he hangs up the phone, it’s with warm feelings, and as he levers himself up out of the chair, he feels like he’s floating.  
He grabs his phone, scrolling through the few notifications that he has, there’s a couple of text messages that he’s not too concerned with answering tonight, another text from Dew that’s just a heart emoji and then a singular calendar notification.  
Aether raises an eyebrow but thinks nothing of it at first, locks up the office and deposits the key in the safe box for another staff member to find before he heads up from the infirmary and to his and Dew’s bedroom.  
Once he’s showered and settled into bed, wearing only his underwear and a thin t-shirt that used to be Dew’s at one point and is entirely too short on Aether and stretched out the from the number of times he’s squeezed into it, he picks his phone up again.  
Taps the calendar notification and blinks at the entry that had been added recently.  
Mandatory Leave 10.26 - 11.3 – Accepted by F. Imperator  
There’s a text, one that had come in while he was in the shower, from Copia this time.  
Dew may be a little grumpy in the morning, our car arrives in three hours to pick us up, we’ll be back before your heat starts. The others have stocked your room while you were working and I’ve taken the opportunity to clear your schedule for the next week just in case. Let me know if there’s anything you need <3  
He feels a surge of affection, sends back a heart in response and takes a moment to take stock of himself, feels the low simmer of something that had been bothering him for a while, something gnawing at him the entire time he’d been without Dew—and he didn’t think that it was heat, thought it was just something happening because Dew had been away for so long. His mind races a bit, wonders why his heat had decided to show now of all times—  
His phone buzzes again, a text from Dew.  
Go to sleep, Aeth. I can feel you thinking from all the way out here. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.  
He huffs quietly, sends back a fuck you and a heart a moment later, almost immediately, another text comes through.  
Of course, big boy, anything you need. I’ll even let you knot me if you want <3  
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m4yasnotthatcool · 1 year ago
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Can we have Andrew and Reader have a life after the events of the game (In the Bulletless Decay route)?
Reader would be an exchange student who would have gone to stay with the Graves family, but in the end she ended up being another 'victim' of the game's circumstances.
She would be a type of person who was indifferent to almost everything, cold-blooded, with somewhat sociopathic tendencies but with a kind heart.
Okay, let's do this, after Ashley's murder, Andrew and Reader finally got fake teeth and moved somewhere far away, but with all the recent traumas and along with the fear of being abandoned.
Andrew started to have possessive tendencies, a little clingy, toxic, manipulative towards our 'poor thing' Reader and that would result in them having children in the future, to keep her trapped in the coffin with him.
ANDREW GRAVES X F!READER
(a/n: okay so i think i understand what u mean, sorry if its not what you expected, im a little(very) rusty rn at writing) NOT PROOF READ!
okay so first of all, Ashley never liked you, and thats part of the reason Andrew liked you sm
like, yea, he always does whatever his sister wants him to, and he hated himself for falling for you
but there was just something about how you were so indifferent under almost any circumstances (oh how he enjoyed seeing you crack under the pressure when you ate the cultist!)
your cold blooded outer shell was something intriguing to him
he wanted to study you
he wanted to get to know you.
did he care about you from the begining? ha, no.
of course he didnt
his sister hated you, so he hated you too
she was afraid you'd steal him from her so he didnt give you the chance
a couple of days into the quarantine is when he'll finally give in and start talking to you
and low and behold, he loved you from the first interaction
you were just so interesting!
he, of course, felt guilty for going against his sisters wishes, but he still would spend mre and more time just talking to you
after killing ashley i think he would just be in denial
for a really (REALLY) long time he would just wait for her to come back, even tough he knows shes not going to
after somehow getting away and finding a permanent place to stay, you two got in a relationship
both of you had abandonment issues you should treat, but neither of you felt it was necesary
from the start he didnt let you talk to anyone else but him
at first it was something you despited about him, feeling it was too clingy. you needed space, you needed privacy
but at one point those needs started fading away
he would tell you "you dont need anyone else but me. im the only one who is capable of understanding what you went trough! and you're the only one who can understand what I went trough. but its alright! dont worry about me! just worry about yourself and what you want. its not like you care about me anyway."
so you belived him
you didnt need anyone else but him
you told him you didnt want kids
thats one of the many topics you talked about when you met
you didnt feel they fufiled any particular need of yours and you didnt want to have them if you were just going to regret them after
he managed to change your mind
after having your 2nd child with him, you were so far gone that you remained just and empty shell of the person you used to be
the lines between you two started bleeding into eachother and so he absorbed your presence
you were no longer yourself
you were just who he wanted you to be all along
he still loved you of course
also i feel like he would get a lot of his manipulation skills from his sister
or whatever is the feeling he gets thats closest to love
he just needed you to stay
and whenever it seemed like you were ready to fly away, he would cut your wings
________________________________________
final a/n
i know its bad dude, im sorry 😭
if you were to ask me right now what i just wrote i couldnt tell you (like im fr rn)
if you want me to try to re-do it just ask (if u didnt like this one that is)
so uh
thx for asking
and sorry its bad lmao
here are the other fandoms i write for!
have a nice rest of ur day/night!
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neerons · 6 months ago
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Some of Leon Dompteur's best quotes
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"Leon Dompteur. My favorite food is meat and alcohol. Hmm? Alcohol isn't food? Haha, that's true."
"You can imagine I'm some fictional character you like if that works better."
"Never mind the roses—it feels like I'm the one wilting without you in my arms. What then? What if I shrivel up and die while you're gone?"
"(...) Well, I'd rather be liked by you than a bunch of random women."
"Do you want to sleep with me tonight? Hey, I just meant sleeping! What were you thinking?"
"I swear, you're the bravest woman I've ever met. (...) I promise, we'll bring you home. That's the one thing I'm not backing down on. And... Don't do anything reckless." (—Leon telling Emma he'll save her along with his brothers from Obsidian)
"If you're struggling, it's okay to show me. I'm not gonna think less of you for it. So don't force yourself to smile."
"No running, no hiding, no looking away. If you need to cry, look at me and cry."
"When I opened my eyes again, I gazed at the woman before me in awe. She was so stunning that I regretted closing my eyes and even blinking." (—Leon's thoughts)
"I've always wanted to see you in a dress that I picked out... then strip you."
"(...) I'll come duel with you as soon as I'm done here." (—Leon keeping his promise to Licht)
"Good girl."
"But... I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you... for so long."
"A special skill of mine, huh...? Oh, there's one I can think of right away. I bet I could beat anyone at competitive eating."
"I don't blame him for being charmed, though. She's just that amazing. Emma, you have no idea how much your presence means to me." (—Leon's thoughts about Jin and Emma)
"Good work. Even if no one else is watching you work hard, I will. Okay?"
"You must have taken quite a liking to her to go warning her like that. It was nice of you." (—Leon talking about Emma to Chevalier)
"Why don't I save everyone a lot of trouble and cut the lot of you down right now?" (—Leon to drunken men)
"Ever since I met you... the me I thought I'd killed... the me I thought was gone... he can't stop shouting to the heavens how happy he is."
"Owwww! What the hell? (...) you could at least wake me up some other way." (—Leon being woken up by Chevalier)
"I think it's actually kind of cute. It's meant to look like a rabbit, right?" (—Leon talking about Clavis' food to Clavis, Emma and Nokto)
"I can finally tell you what I've always wanted to tell you. Emma... I love you."
"What matters is that you haven't become a victim for the kingdom. Just knowing that is enough to reassure me. (...) She knew none of you would welcome her, yet she came here as the emperor's representative, to find peace for us all. Is there any of you with more resolve than that?" (—Leon defending Emma during an official meeting)
"Accepting who you are, and being able to open your heart to the people you love—that's what makes us strong."
"(...) I want to flirt with you. Please?"
"I can't be the only one left with a one-track mind. I need you to be as crazy for me as I am for you." (—Leon's thoughts)
"Sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, but you look so fine in that beautiful dress. I wish I had a picture of you to frame."
"She's the silver lining in my clouds, my sun who makes my future bright. When I think about her, I'm filled with the courage to face whatever may come my way. She's truly an amazing woman and the light of my life." (—Leon talking about Emma)
"Maybe instead of the one doing the savoring, you'd prefer to be savored?"
"I adore you. Even if I were to make the entire world my enemy, I'll never let go of you."
"I want to melt you with my touch until you're left crying my name into the night." (—Leon's thoughts)
"I want you to be at my side just as you are, I want you to be my queen just as you are."
"There's only one thing that I can think of that would help stop me being so reckless. (...) Mmm... I don't know, it seems a bit too easy to just go ahead and tell you. Why don't you guess? (...) And every time you get it wrong, I get to kiss or touch you. How does that sound? (...) Can you even think coherently when you're this wet and needy?"
"Honestly, you can call for me even if nothing happens. I don't mind. I'd still gladly come running."
"Every time we touch, every time we kiss, every time we say we love each other, my feelings for you grow stronger."
"If we continue, you're going to see me possibly the horniest I've ever been in my life."
"Sorry, kid, but you were born way too late. Plus, she's already spoken for. But at least he has good taste." (—Leon's thoughts about a boy asking Emma to marry him)
"You're so beautiful that I don't know what to do with myself."
"I'm so harsh on you first thing in the morning, aren't I? (...) I ate my fill, but now I already want you again."
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calp0sa · 4 months ago
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what do you like and dislike about airy?
CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD
well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)
i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being
“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”
>”WE CANT DIE?”
“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”
he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS
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quirkwizard · 3 months ago
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Final Chapter: A Look at the Ending of MHA
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With the manga of My Hero Academia finally coming to a close, I thought I'd give my opinions about how the series ended. I will be covering everything from Chapter 424 to Chapter 430. This is going to mix my thoughts on the ending, a proposed rewrite, and a lot of responses to people's criticism towards it. Because I'm going to be real with you all: the past two months have been the most frustrating and exhausting experience I've had with this fan base. 
I have been writing this since the finale ended. In that time, I've been listening and taking in all the discourse of fans in order to make a more informed opinion. It's been miserable trying to read through all the thoughts people had about the finale. The sheer amount of opinions that were based off misinformation or misreadings of the series has been staggering. So, if I sound more exhausted or if the writing comes across as more scattershot then when I normally do something like that, that's the reason. And, as always, if you have anything you want to discuss, whether it be about the post or the ending, feel free to ask about it.
Review
Miscellaneous Notes:
So there are some bits of the story I wanted to talk about, but didn't feel the need to include full on diatribes about.
-Oh hey, Koichi from Vigilantes is here, that's so- and he's gone.
-Even when Izuku is his peer, Aizawa still finds time to be a jerk to his students.
-Mirio is the number one hero. Makes sense, but it does feel out of nowhere with how little Mirio has been relevant up until now.
-How on Earth is Miriko still working, let alone as a hero? She's down three limbs and in arguably worse shape then Enji.
-Man, they are really taking Kai to task these past few arcs, aren't they? I mean, I get why, but jeez. It's honestly sad to see what's been done with his character.
-I like how All Might's light returned to his eyes. It's a good way to show him getting his spirit back after all this time and reigniting hope in himself..
-So if Eri's horn is back, does that mean her power is back? Kind of wish we had something saying about why she isn't healing people. I get if it's her choice or the recipients choice not to do so, but there needs to be something for that.
Hospital Visit
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This works as little cool down from the big battle, especially since we really needed to see some of the immediate consequences on the main characters. I actually like a lot of the stuff with Bakugou. After all this, he finally understands Izuku, shown by them getting similar injuries, and lets himself be emotionally vulnerable about wanting the two to be rivals. And we finally got some thoughts on part of Izuku here, like his regret about seemingly failing to save Tomura and how he doesn't feel hurt about losing out on "One For All". How he's glad that he even got this chance in the first place. I do feel the need to mention All Might saying that Izuku saved the "soul" of Tomura. I think a lot of people missed or ignored that line. It's important to Tomura's death, but I'll get more into that later.
Speaking of consequences, I don't mind Izuku losing out on "One For All". In the grander scheme of things, "One For All" doesn't need to be a thing anymore. With "All For One" gone, it no longer has a purpose to exist. And as we've all seen with All Might, someone holding that much power over he world is a problem, regardless of whether it's used for good or evil. Having it gone helps even the playing field and will push for the idea that people should rely on themselves and each other instead of focusing all on a single symbol. What's more, I think Izuku having to sacrifice it and lose it gives the ending a lot more weight. Because Izuku sacrificed the thing that made him a hero in order to stop Shigaraki. To me, that's one of the most defining aspects of a hero: the willingness to sacrifice something important to themselves to help others.
UA Stuff
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All of the things happening at UA are fine.  I do like that Aoyama chose to leave 1-A of his own volition instead of being forced out. Plus, now Shinso is in the Hero Course. Good for him. I've never been all that invested in Shino's story, but this is a good way to get him into Class 1-A without making an exception or replacing any of the core cast members. I liked Mirio's graduation speech. I think it works with his arc of trying to inspire other people and trying to honor Sir Nighteye's memory. And they got to have their own little party. That's nice.
Honestly, I find myself having very little to say about all of this, at least the parts within the school itself. I'm all for a calm after the storm to talk about what happened and to build up characters. I'm honestly glad we're back at the school to help ground things after that massive battle. But I think there may have been too much time spent on this. It just feels a little longer than what's needed. Like the bits with the cotton girl feel like they weren't needed for the story and could have been better used setting up or wrapping up something else.
Todoroki Family Prison Visit
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The Todoroki family drama has always been one of the stronger plotlines, especially in the latter half of the series. And I believe that it ended on a pretty strong note. It's to the point where I struggle to really say much about the resolution of it.  I do like how Shoto asks for something as basic as his favorite food. I also like how Dabi let go of his hatred towards Shoto, who was as much of a victim as he was in all of this, but still held on to it for Endeavor. Because in spite of what a lot of fans seem to think, the manga does take Enji to task and isn't saying he should be forgiven.
Dabi being in this condition is pretty awful, but I concede that it was necessary for him to have a resolution with the other Todorokis. I'll get to my thoughts on the condition of the villains later in the post. So for now I'll just say the metal coffin looks equal parts cool and horrific. I think it's too long at least in the wrong places. I understand that this is an important part of the story. But when it takes up so much of the chapter it's in, I feel like at least something should have been given to the other family members. They aren't the main players of the subplot, but they still could have used some resolution.
Afterburn
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Now, there are those who say Enji got off too easy. Uh, no, he didn't. The man lost everything he strived for in the number one position, something that turned out to be totally hollow, and is left severely injured after the battle, due in large part to Dabi. Now the only thing that would bring his life purpose, his family, is all torn apart by his own actions. Now he's resigned himself to seeing his dying son, who hates him with every burnt fiber of his being, every day until Dabi dies. Enji's punishment is to live on, knowing what he did and failing to ever put his family back together. That's not a happy ending, that's a sentencing.
Which is something I do find frustrating about the end of their arc. While we get solid conclusions with Natsuo and Dabi, how Shoto, Fuyumi, and especially Rei feel about all this and their relationship with Enji is ambiguous at best. At least with Shoto and Fuymui, we had some idea of where they stood with their father before now, but Rei is still not clear. I'm not sure about the implications with Rei and whether she's still with Enji. I choose to think that she isn't just trying to help him out in the few panels we see them together, but it's not exactly clear. Which certainly does leave the door open for some... less than favorable interpretations.
Commissioner Hawks
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I'm not sure how to feel about Keigo's conclusion. On the one hand, I don't mind where he ended up as the head of the Hero Commission. It's still a way for him to help heroes to make their lives easier without getting involved as a hero. And if there is anyone that can clean up the Hero Commission, it's the guy that's worked under them his entire life. On the other hand though, it does kind of feel like he did got off scott free for a lot of the stuff he did while under the Hero Commission, namely killing Twice. It never feels like Hawks personally was taken to task for his part in all of this. So now we have a murderer as the head of the Hero Commission. 
It doesn't matter if he was under orders to do it or not, nor if there were extreme circumstances that pushed him to such actions. The pragmatic side of me does see the reasoning of that, but the story enforces that what Hawks did is a bad thing and does so constantly. Nothing about the manga takes Hawks to task for what he did or makes it feel like he's been punished for that. He may have lost his Quirk, but we don't really know how he feels about that. Which is weird considering how much of his life came from having that Quirk. Unless his comment about not being ashamed of his "filthy wings" as long as he got to help Tokoyami? Maybe it will make more sense on another read.
Spinner and Izuku
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I feel like this scene is pretty underrated. Heck, it may even cemented Spinner as one of my favorite villains. To me, it really goes to show the tragedy at the core of Spinner's character. That, for all of his desire to change things or help out his friends, he was too weak to see any change made for himself. So he attached himself to idols like Stain or Tomura. He was always manipulated or pulled by something else. Whether it be the radicalization of Stain or the machinations of All For One, his hopes were used against him, his mindless actions given meaning by peons. All it did was lose him everything. He was, ultimately, a kid who was in over his head and was turned into a monster because of it. The monster everyone saw him as.
And while I've heard some people complain about Tomura only having a message for Spinner, I think that's more about the relationship Tomura had with the rest of the League. They were aligned together for a mutual goal and had some care for one another, but I don't think they ever understood or were close to one another. Spinner is the only one Tomura had any kind of real closeness. That's the whole point of the gamer line, as silly as it was. So, while to the rest of the League, he was Shigaraki, the force of destruction and change, to Spinner, he was Tomura, a friend who he wanted to fight for. My only issue, again, is some unfortunate openness with the ending. Spinner writing a book to spite the heroes is fine, but it leaves this unfortunate implication that this book will be used to radicalize more people. I don't think that is the intention, but again, it's not very clear.
Everyone Do Your Share
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I was originally frustrated by how much of the final chapters spent on the cleaning up of things, especially since there were so few chapters left. However, looking back, I do feel it's pretty important to reinforce the idea of everyone trying to help in their own way, no matter how big or small it may be. And in doing so, show the changes on every level possible. It's there to show how things are changing by how people act and see heroes. We've got the civilians doing their part to help the heroes, and we've got the next generation changing their perspective on heroism. All thanks to Class 1-A and their efforts. It's just a nice and efficient way to show things changing from a broader perspective.
Which leads me to the stitch mouth kid. I saw people begging that this kid would be the new Tomura and show that society is still bad and broken. As if something like that wouldn't undermine the entire point of the ending. The whole point is that anyone can be a hero in any way, as long as you are willing to reach out and help others. And people who see a problem can and should do something to help people. They should help when they have the chance before it is too late. So having the old woman reach out to help another lost child is a nice way to tie up that point. And the whole point of all this is that the heroes, especially Izuku, don't need to do everything themselves. 
The More Things Change
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Many people were upset of the idea of aspects like hero rankings and the Hero Commission not being abolished by the time the series ended. I disagree. I never thought that the rankings themselves were bad or wrong, nor did I think the story ever shows that the rankings are bad. That only seemed to be an issue with Enji and that had a lot of personal issues behind it. Every other hero seemed to be perfectly content to do hero work regardless of the rankings. Now, the Hero Commission, I can understand more. It's shown to be morally gray with its power. However, I don't think the existence of this kind of system is inherently wrong. Having oversight to heroes isn't a bad idea. It's just that the usage of it use to a lot of problems. And most of those people that propagated it are dead and gone.
Further still, there are people that say nothing has changed in the setting. That, since these systems are still in place, it's always going to be like this. Again, I disagree. Because of the massive devastation wrought by Tomura, it gave Japan a fresh start with the current generation. This gives the country the chance to overhaul those systems, even if they are still around. At the end of the day, systems are made up of and by people. The story makes it clear many times how important it is to win the crowd over. And if you win the hearts and minds of the people, it could go on to propagate massive change to the system. If enough people want to change and push for it, things will change. Saying that "things didn't change because systems can't be changed" is such a horrifically pessimistic take on the ending.
The Death of Villains
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I've mentioned it before, and I'll say it again: I don't mind Toga dying. By extension, I don't mind the villains dying either. While it may seem tragic and pointless for her to die, I do think that is kind of that point. And no, I don't think this means that she "couldn't be saved". I think it's more of a tragedy. She was the one that people could have been saved before, but it was far too late to help her given how far she had gone. And her dying isn't a failing of that. Because Toga's ultimate goal was to live and die on her own terms. Specifically, being able to express herself and her "love". And to a lesser degree, to have someone try to understand her. I think her dying to save Uraraka is a good end to her character. By extension, that's how I feel about a lot of the villains' deaths in this. They got what they wanted, tragically died in order to see it through to the end. At least there's some peace for them, in that respect.
There's also a matter of "saving". I think a lot of fans took this too literally. To me, "saving" was more about reaching out and trying to understand villains rather than simply fighting them. "Saving" was never going to be the same as "redeeming". Because let's be real, there is no redeeming these people. Not because they can't be redeemed, it's because they don't want to be redeemed, and I think it'd betray their characters to do so. They are unapologetically bad and have hurt a lot of people. Every member of the League is complicit in the deaths of thousands and throwing an entire country into chaos. They aren't wrong for fighting the system, they're wrong for killing countless people to do so. And I have to ask what the other options are? You either have them be forgiven and turn good, which would be insane given the crimes they committed and their characters, or have them locked up forever, which is a fate worse than death. At least in death they can have some form of peace by escaping the consequences of their actions and all the suffering they went through.
Izuku x Uraraka:
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Yeah, I'm kind of confused about why it turned out like this. I'm ignoring all the shipping concerns that come from it. I'm more focused on the story and characters. The whole idea of Uraraka and Toga's shared story was about understanding your feelings, both towards yourself and other people. Especially how bad it is to repress and hide your feelings. The whole catalyst of Toga's story was her being forced to repress herself. So having this whole subplot end like this is really odd if Uraraka doesn't express her feelings. That's not mentioning all the hints, setups, and teasing that pushed these two as a potential couple that fell through by not having any conclusion. I honestly wonder why Hori, or his editors, decided to back down like this. 
Which, hey, now may not be the best time for a confession, but it's still jarring not to see anything come of it after all this time. Especially since so much of the chapter is about the two talking about their feelings. So why is it written like this? Now, I want to dismiss the popular concept that Hori changed this because of death threats between the two. While it's not something I'd put past obsessive fans, there hasn't been anything to substantiate the claim. So, barring rogue translators, my only guess is that Hori or an editor didn't want to do the reveal now and wanted to focus more on the important parts of the two's connection about inspiring one another. I can understand that, but it feels like a part of their dynamic is missing without any real acknowledgment of the two's feelings.
Izuku and Uraraka:
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And I say all that to preface that I do like a lot of this scene and I do think it's important to each of the characters. Because Ochako is being open with her feelings here. It's just not the feelings that were being set up all the way in the first chapter. It's the two trying to connect and come to terms with their own failings with their villains. Only to have Izuku reach out his hand, reaffirming that sometimes all people need is a small act of kindness. Though it's hard to always do that, he's willing to do it because he's just that good of a guy. And having Izuku say that Uraraka is his hero is more heartfelt and important to these characters and the story at large then any confession could have been. 
And then we have the rest of Class 1-A coming to help as well. It works as a good parallel to Uraraka saving Izuku back during the Dark Hero Arc. It fits with the idea of heroes saving and helping one another. My only major issue is that I kind of wish we had gotten a little more with Izuku talking about his own feelings regarding Tomura, but we already got that back in Chapter 424. All and All: am I still disappointed that Izuku and Uraraka didn't have any romantic resolution? Kind of. It's less that I wanted them to get together and more I wanted some kind of resolution for it. But I still think what we got is good and that people are focusing way too much on what isn't there than what is there. Which I feel like is a problem with a lot of the ending, but we'll get to that.
Class 1-A Futures:
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I do wish we got to see more of the future of Class 1-A, even if they were brief snippets. There are glimpses of Shoto and Bakugou. Bakguou's is alright, and I do like the final bit about no one connecting Shoto and Endeavor. I think that's a good ending for him. The most we get with any kind of detail are Shoji's and Urarak's groups. And I guess Shoji had a good future? Look, the Heteromorph plotline is arguably one of the worst parts of the whole manga. It may even be worse than the Stars and Stripes arc. So I can't exactly muster a lot of enthusiasm seeing it resolved by Shoji in the end. I suppose him thanking the people at the riot was nice? That whole part of the story honestly deserves its own post talking about it.
On the flip side, I'm fine with Uraraka's ending. Because I think people tend to conflate a lot of what makes up "Quirk Counseling", mostly thanks to people like Curious and Toga. One is part of a cult that wants to destroy society and the other most grievously targeted by it. From what we've actually seen of it, such as Tamaki's flashback, it just seems to be a lot of training and understanding your Quirk. Toga was just an unfortunate case where the system as it was couldn't help her and could only try and fit her into a niche. So I don't think expanding it is that big of a problem. Plus, expanding could include more extensive counseling that is more tailored to each child. I do think it's kind of odd that Iida and Momo seem to be stapled on to this ending, though. I'm not sure how this works as an end for either of them. I guess their roles as leaders of the class?
Great Teacher Izuku
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Look, I don't mind Izuku having this job. Do I think there could have been other choices for this? Yes, but this is by no means bad. Being a teacher is a lot more respectable in Eastern cultures. Especially since he's teaching at the best hero school in the country, if not the world, it is certainly a high-profile job. And he is still being a hero in his own way and helping out the next generation as a teacher. More importantly, I still think that Izuku achieved his dream of being the greatest hero. The man brought down the greatest villain in human history and was one of the two people responsible for causing a massive shift in the way the world of heroes works. He is truly the world's greatest hero. There is no debating that. This is like some kid wanting to go to space to be the greatest astronaut. They not only go to space, they're the first person on Mars. They also stop the martins from invading Earth, killing the king of the martins, and save humanity. Now injured, they instead teach other cadets how to be astronauts. Would they not have success in their goal of being the greatest astronaut? I don't think anyone could match up with that.
However, my issue is with everything surrounding it. There isn't any set up for him becoming a teacher. It gives us the sense that this was the back-up option for when his real dreams feel through. Especially since Izuku gave everything he could to try and be a hero, and it doesn't happen until the very end of this manga. Which doesn't seem like the intention, since Izuku seems happy enough, but I heard a lot of people saying that. It's lacking in that catharsis and satisfaction that you'd expect from an ending. But you can have an ending that's not exactly happy and still be cathartic, and I think that still applies here. And another problem I have is that he's teaching at UA. Yes, he's helping out the next generation of heroes, but he's not helping out the people that need it most. The kind of people who don't make it into UA. The kind of people like Tomura, Spinner, and Twice. Those are the kind of people that should be getting help like this. Why not put him in a position with a much greater ability to help people? Finally, wasn't the whole point of All Might's arc? That there are other ways to be heroes and life outside of hero work? Why not have that aspect of the story be resolve with him instead of Izuku? He was already going down that route to begin with. Why repeat the same idea?
Walk and Talk
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Again, I'm going to have to counter a major talking point I've seen in the fanbase. No, Izuku is not unhappy in his job. He seems to enjoy it and is in fact very good at it, as seen when talking to his students and the plate kid, Dai. He's only unhappy in one panel, in which he's being talked down to by Aizawa. No, Izuku is not forgotten by the world. He's mentioned in the same breath as some of the greatest heroes in the series, has his own statue with the rest of Class 1-A, and is so famous that people know his real name and is of such mythical status that people question if he is real. No, Izuku's friends did not abandon him. The most that Izuku says about that is that it's difficult for all twenty members to get together. He's still probably seeing them in smaller numbers. And I can tell you as someone who has had trouble even getting a quarter of that number of people into a single time slot, it's going to be difficult to get twenty people with separate schedules and lives together.
As for everything with Dai, it's fine. His perspective is pretty important as we get to see the changing worldview. With the demystification of heroes and the elevation of other roles in helping others, young people are now all getting into different fields. The talk around the statue is pretty good as well. Having Izuku effectively talk to a younger version of himself is a good way to close out his arc and all the insecurities he's had over the manga. However, part of me feels like this kind of talk should be done with the stitch-mouth kid. We do actually see him as a part of UA students with Kota. I think having Izuku end up talking to him about his Quirk could have been a good way to end his arc by having him be able to help someone similar. Not to say that the Dai stuff was bad or pointless. It just feels odd to include the guy that's supposed to be the metaphorical spirit of Tomura, put him in Izuku's class, and have them not interact.
The Suit
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Again, this is another point where I don't have a major issue with it. At least, I don't have an issue getting the suit itself. I have some issues with the semantics. Did it take too long to build? I wouldn't say that. It was revealed in a piece by Horikoshi that it took all of All Might's vast resources to build, and it lacked a lot of the proper safety features. Having it take some time before it's battle ready for Izuku makes sense. However, that isn't in the manga, at least as far as I can tell. Maybe this makes more sense in the volumes, where stuff like this is included all the time. For real though, these people built this in secret for eight years, and they are just now letting him find out. Was there really no explanation you could have added to make that make more sense?
It creates this odd juxtaposition of endings as well. It gives the feeling of the story wanting to have its cake and eat it as well. Someone wanted Izuku come to terms with being Quirkless and to have a life outside of hero work. The other person wanted Izuku to still fight and be a hero. I also wonder why not just have be both at the same time instead of doing this twist. Make it clear that heroes have a lot more time, both thanks to Hawks and the contributions of the many heroes in the world all working together. Izuku doesn't need to be a full-time hero to save people and chooses to be a teacher to help people in a way that only he can do. That way, he can still be a hero that isn't necessarily the profession while being a professional hero without a Quirk.
Final Thoughts
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Now, what are my final options for all of this? I think that ending was pretty solid, leaning good. I do agree that it's better than what is on offer than a lot of shōnen series and a good enough ending for the story. I'm not saying it's amazing or perfect. Though I do find myself more satisfied than frustrated. I get a lot of what the story is going for, and it makes sense. It just needed some refinement to really work. As for what everyone else has said about it, I honestly think that a lot of people are overreacting. I wouldn't go as far as to say people are "lacking media literacy" or that they are "reading in bad faith" like others have on either side of the debate. I just think this as a case where the context and delivery of it resulted in a lot of confusion. And more often than not, people will tend to go with the worst version of the implications. This is not helped by the leaks and bad translations which fans ran away with, as well the built-up hype and headcanons, which poisoned the well for a lot of people.
However, I cannot deny that there is part of the fanbase that is simply not getting the manga. I don't want to use the word "tourist", because that's a No True Scotsman fallacy, but it's starting to feel applicable here. The people who simply aren't reading the manga, whether it be through engaging with it solely through other people talking about it, or trying to look at it anything beyond the most kneejerk and surface level reactions. Because a lot of people tend to conflate what My Hero Academia is about or what its story is conveying. And unfortunately, those are the people with massive followings. Anyone with a differing opinion is drowned out in the sea of angry comments. And I think we really need to get away from that. What I'm saying is that you read the story as it is. Focus on what is happening and what it is trying to say. Don't force a meaning or headcanon on something that wasn't there and don't rely on word of mouth for what the manga is about. Just focus on what the story is trying to say.
My only hope is that this will pass, and calmer heads will win out. That once it's stepped outside the zeitgeist, people will be able to analyze it as a whole. If not, then I'm terrified to think that this will become My Hero Academia's legacy: a bunch of stupid jokes made by people who can't bother to read the official version of the story or try to understand a culture outside their own even when it plays a vital role within the story. If not, then I can hope that maybe something else will come to replace it. Because I'm not sure if this is truly the end. I've heard rumors that there's going to be something akin to Naruto: The Last or the Naruto Wedding Special coming out after the anime ends. If not that, who knows who other kinds of side material will come out to follow up on the world or characters. Which would make sense. The ending doesn't feel like an ending as much as it does "And the adventure continues." Which could be why I'm not as affected by this ending as other people.
There's certainly the cultural side and how that surrounds the manga. I'll always stand by the fact that this manga is a Japanese story by a Japanese author for a Japanese audience. And there's a lot of cultural context that goes into the series. I keep thinking about how a lot of Japanese fans seemed to like the ending and how much I wished I had the context to understand it. Another part of it is how much I'm thinking about Hori. Because for all the popularity of it, being a mangaka is one of the most stressful jobs in Japan. One where the artist has much less say over how their story goes. I'm so curious about what went on behind the scenes to make My Hero Academia turn out the way it is. Was all this Hori fumbling his own story, whether that be through incompetence or failing health, or were there outside forces pressing on him to do things a certain way? It's like how people became more forgiving of Kubo or Toriyama once they found out how hamstrung they were by their higher ups. I suppose only time will tell.
Rewrite
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Now, time for the Rewrite portion. As a reminder, I do try to keep to what the manga does as close as possible. For example, I personally would just let Izuku keep some version of "One For All" if the ultimate conclusion was him still being a hero. However, it's obvious that Hori didn't want to go that route with it, so I'll be sticking to him getting with the suit.
Starting things off, we'll be in the hospital with Izuku and All Might recovering. We're told about "One For All" leaving him, and we'll get some reaction from Izuku about it. He will be sad but resolved. He may not have "One For All", but he's still alive. He's got the skill and will to help people without it. And he still wants to do that, even in his own way, because he still has value without "One For All". This could help soften the blow of Izuku losing out on "One For All". That and it's at least something to try to tie up Izuku's self worth issues. This will also be something confirmed by Inko, putting a nice little bow on all this with her being more properly encouraging of Izuku as opposed to how things were in Chapter 1.
Then we're going to reveal how many people want to talk to Izuku. Reporters are going to be hounding Izuku for his story, considering how he was key in stopping Tomura. Which he obviously can't do right now due to his condition. After some time, he will eventually recover enough to give a press conference. This will also be where we get the varying opinions on Tomura, having a panel overwhelming Izuku with questions and thoughts. Izuku is now going to use his newly found position to try and change things for the better. He's going to emphasize the importance of the role of the other heroes and not have it all focus on him. He's going to use it as a platform to talk about who Tomura was and why he did what he did.
It's going to be something emotional and vulnerable, something propping up Izuku as a person rather than the hero Deku, working to prevent another situation like All Might where everyone keeps putting them on pedestals. This way, we have both the validation of Izuku saving everyone and wanting to bring about change on the societal level. It shows him being a hero in the traditional way with the defeat of All For One, now he's being a hero in the non-traditional way. This will be cutting into some of the time we have at UA, but to me, I don't think a lot of what's in that part is ultimately necessary to what the story is trying to say.
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For the sake of this, Hawks will still be working as the head of the Hero Commission. He'll talk about how he feels free now that his Quirk is gone and everything that came with it, more so than ever before. However, he still wants to make life easier for heroes so that they can feel this kind of freedom. He initially didn't want the position, but felt the need to take it on after everything that's happened and make things right, implying the guilt he feels over his actions. Plus, it has some nice irony of Hawks still being trapped within the Hero Commissions. So him taking the role is more of his own penance and a punishment.
So while Izuku is fighting on the public front, changing the hearts of the masses to enact change, Hawks will be fighting on the political and systematic front, using the devastation of the country as a fresh start. He'll encourage groups of heroes to work together rather than focusing on the individual. He'll push for a greater level of training or vetting when it comes to people who can get a license for hero work. Most importantly, a greater level of accountability and transparency in both heroes and the Hero Commission as a whole.
Lady Nagant will remain in jail, but it's more for reasons of atonement rather than wanting to wait and see how things play out. Hawks will try to offer her some deal or reduction as a way to make things right, but she feels like it's the right thing to do rather than trying to pretend it never happened. This will also be the part where we explore some of the points with Hawks we talked about earlier. Lady Nagant can even question if the Hero Commission is needed, but Hawks can talk about all the reforms he wants to do with it.
For Chapter 426, we're shortening the Todoroki family time, and it will only take up half of the chapter. I will have some confirmation on whether or not Rei was able to move on from what Enji did and do more to cement how Enji is alone now. He may be resolved to change and make things right, but he is not getting his family back. That ship has sailed. Instead, we'll be sticking to everything involving Hawks and Toshinori in the latter half of this, with him talking to Lady Nagant and him discussing his plans for changing the ranking systems in general. I think it'd flow a lot better, works with tying up another character so closely tied to the Todorokis, and gives us more time for other stuff.
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However, we're keeping 427 mostly intact. I think Spinner's material is good, and everything that got brought up needed to be mentioned one way or another. The most I'd do is cut down on the ending gag, since it frustrates me so much, and some of the interviews since we may not need them as much with how I'll be changing things in those sections. I am removing the Kai part of the chapter as well. I like Kai, but this honestly feels pointless in the grand scheme of things.
The biggest change will be that I'll include a bit where, instead of Izuku saying to make it a comic book, he'll remind Spinner to think about what would happen if someone like Spinner read it. About how important a book like that could be and how it should be written, but also how it could hurt someone who reads it. Spinner will remain silent in response, thinking back on how he saw Stain and how he was puppeteered around by the likes of One For All and the PLF during the Final War.
I think you could do a nice parallel between Izuku and Spinner here. They were two young men who were ultimately racialized and hurt by their idols and their lack of self-worth. Again, it's showing Izuku thinking about himself more with what has happened to him and tying that to Spinner's own situation. Plus, it prevents something like Spinner's book from having the unfortunate implication of turning out to something like the MLA book.
We're cutting Chapters 428 and 429 in half and stitching them together. Specifically, all the stuff with the new Class 1-A and the Old Class 1-A will be removed. I just feel like we don't need to focus on this as much as other parts of the world or story. Preferably, I would want them to get together. With the Bakugou and Shoto being seen bit, we're throwing in Izuku as well. There needs to be some confirmation that people did in fact see him as a hero as well and confirm that the three are in fact the new Big Three of UA. I'm not asking this to be the norm of it like they do in Naruto. I just feel like there should be some external validation.
The fight between Toga and Uraraka will be around and released to the public. Her death will be seen as something tragic to the world and help spark the change we see later on with people empathizing with villains like her. This could also lead to Izuku seeing it and being the impetus for Izuku and Ochako talking about their feelings. Yes, this chapter will include a confession for Ochako to Izuku. It won't be during a breakdown, but it needs to be put in somewhere and might as well be here. I'll even settle for an implication. Up to you on whether or not you think this should solidify them as a couple, but I feel like you have to include that in order to complete all of the set-up in the series and especially with Toga.
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The new Chapter 429 will instead be a two-year time jump into the future before everyone is graduating. We can still start it off with some of the "where are they now" bits, but not have it take up too much time. With the final embers of "One For All" starting to fade out, Izuku knows this is the end of him as a proper hero, but it doesn't matter to him. He got to be the greatest hero in history who literally saved the world. He doesn't define himself by having a Quirk or not and knows that he can still help people without a costume on. Izuku plans on either going into counseling, charity work, or even trying to get a job at the Hero Commission. Up to you on this one. He still wants to help and stop the various hurting people of the world from ever becoming like anyone from the League ever again. Make it clear this is something Izuku wants.
This is when Toshinori gives him his graduation gift: the suit. Between Toshinori's remaining resources, gifts and gratitude from the various people across the world, and contributions from members of 1-A, they were able to build him the suit. Toshinori kept it from Izuku because it wasn't ready until a few days ago, needing to be properly prepared and built as opposed to the rush job that was the dangerous prototype he used. Izuku, of course, has notes and ideas for improvements on the suit. Toshinori reaffirms that Izuku earned this, and he will still be a worthy hero and successor, Quirkless or otherwise. The chapter ends with Class 1-A and 1-B graduating. I know that two years seems short, but I think that the timespan is enough of a time gap to get the suit together, at least with how I am setting it up, and to have the embers of "One For All" fade. 
The alternative route is that, knowing that the embers are running out, Izuku still wants to be a hero. So he's spent the last two years trying to prepare himself for that, putting as much time into training and learning how to use equipment made for him. He doesn't care if he isn't going to be the top hero. He's going to do what he's already been doing: helping people, because that's all he really wanted out of life. That this whole experience changed how he saw himself and hero work. You could even say that it's the prototype for him, eventually becoming the suit. Maybe even combine them both, with the former being a backup plan after hero work. And while I have never been the biggest fan of the whole "Quirkless Hero" concept with how little it's supported in the world, I think we can let it slide because it's the finale. But I wanted to mention it because I thought it'd be an interesting path for the story to take.
Then the real chapter 430 will cut to the future, roughly five to six years. I could take or leave Izuku being a teacher, but for the sake of this, let's say that he is one. Heroes have more time off, so he decides to help educate people. We'll get a similar series of panels that will focus more on the world with how it is now, mainly in relation to Class 1-A. This will show a lot more of how the 1-A kids have grown and the affects they have on the world, like Uraraka actually interacting and helping a kid like Toga come to terms with their power to show how Quirk Counseling has become a tool to help people. I think we really need more scenes like that to really show that things have grown and changed with the world. Izuku's suit will have changed as well, commenting on how much he's been involved with the modeling and planning throughout his most current iteration.
Toshinori will be living his life and still teaching at UA. He talks about how all the kids want to be like Izuku, especially with Kota, and that they never stop talking about him. He jokes to himself about how he feels like he's been forgotten. Cut back to Izuku's old school with the kid in the back. Events will happen similarly to what they did in Chapter 430, with Izuku meeting a kid similar to himself at All Might's statue. There will be the usual stuff he said, trying to encourage the kid, making comparisons to himself, maybe even showing the photos All Might took of him when he was training. He gets a call about an incident and needs to leave. He tells the kid to never forget about the hero he can be and to never stop striving to be that hero. The final words of the series are the ever-iconic "Plus Ultra".  This is beyond cheesy, but if we're going to end the series, we might as well end it with some cheese.
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zorosangell · 1 month ago
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⛥゚・。 protector: chapter twenty-six
synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "
cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.
a/n: reposting from another account
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If things went from bad to worse during the argument, then things went from worse to shit during the fight.
Usopp challenged Luffy to a duel for the Merry, which, of course, ended in his defeat.
Though Luffy let him keep the ship anyway.
But beyond that, the crew had gotten word that Robin was the prime suspect for the attempted murder of the mayor.
And now the whole town was after, not only her, but the entire crew.
Sanji and Chopper had ran into her while in town, but she started talking about a situation getting worse and never seeing the crew again before disappearing.
So Zoro devised a plan to capture her during her second attempt on the mayor, hoping to get some answers.
But with Usopp gone and Sanji nowhere to be found, you, Zoro, Nami, Chopper, and Luffy, knew that you would have to go at it on your own.
And as the five of you perched in a large tree outside the mayor's mansion, you couldn't help noticing the looming sense of doom in the air.
Aqua Laguna would not be the only storm coming that night...
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"There sure are a lot of people out there," Chopper reported, looking down at the lawn through his binoculars.
"It's a little far, too," Luffy agreed.
"It'll be fine if you rocket through the window, right? After Robin shows up, I mean," Nami asked.
"That's right. If we make a commotion first then they'll just sneak in while we're dealing with the guards," Zoro stated, leaning against the trunk of the tree, "Let's be patient."
You sat yourself a little ways off to the side, criss-crossed, with your eyes peacefully shut, trying to meditate some clarity into the situation.
This overbearing sense of disaster had been following you ever since Usopp left the crew. 
And before your little display clairvoyance on Skypiea, you had never been so fined tuned with auras like you were now.
The fluctuations and shifts, all dependent on where you were and who you were with.
It was too much for your one head.
And being able to sense impending doom, while not knowing how, when, where, or why it was coming, is a power you wouldn't wish on your greatest enemy.
But luckily, your swordsman noticed your distress, resting a hand on your shoulder to snap you out of it.
"You alright?" he asked, voice low so he didn't alert the others.
Your mind was off somewhere else, thinking, quite intently if he took the tightness of your face as any hint.
But being distracted like that, especially with your lives on the line, would be a death sentence.
"We need that head down here."
An easy guess would be it was about your powers, and how you could be doing more to help.
But there was no time to pry, so a guess is what it would have to stay.
You spared him a small smile of thanks, giving a firm nod and focusing back on the task at hand.
'She didn't answer my question...'
But the sounds of shouts from below pulled him away from his thoughts before he could act on them.
"Sounds like something's going on down there," he stated, turning to Chopper, "Whaddya see?"
"They're all kinda standing around now. But..." Chopper sighed, pulling the binoculars away from his face, "they're all huge, and armed, and angry."
"We need to be careful. Those guys have a reputation for being able to handle themselves when push comes to shove. We don't wanna rush in and do anything we're gonna regret later," Nami reminded.
"Yeah, if we try to barge in swingin', we'll just be askin' for trouble," Luffy agreed.
"Says the guy who charged-in in broad daylight..." you scoffed.
"Anyway, don't take your eyes off 'em, Chopper," Zoro instructed, eyes trained on the lawn, "We don't want any kind of surprise down there."
"Right."
"Anything happens, you let us know."
"Okay, you got it."
"I think we're gonna have a really long night ahead of us," Zoro sighed, "But if we blow our opportunity, it's over. We can't let our guard down no matter what happens."
Silence fell over the air, and the wind's sorrow filled wail was only a hint of foreshadowing to the night ahead.
"If we wanna know the truth about Robin, then it has to be tonight, or never."
"Yeah," Luffy agreed, his tone low, "I got a feeling we'll be talking to her real soon."
And as if on cue, a huge explosion went off right on the lawn, blowing most of the carpenters away.
"Whoa! Something blew up!" Chopper exclaimed.
"Yeah, no kidding..." You winced.
An entire section of the house was now on fire, and the workers were buzzing like bees around a hive trying to put it out.
"They all seem pretty worked up," Chopper noted, a little nervous.
"Yeah. There is definitely something going on right now," Zoro stated, eyes scanning over the destruction, "Alright, then. When are we gonna make our move?"
You and Chopper turned to where Luffy once was, only for him to be nowhere in sight.
'For the love of God...'
"Hey, where's Luffy?" Chopper asked.
Zoro and Nami quickly whipped their heads over, eyes going impossibly wide at the captain's absence.
"THAT IDIOT! WHAT ABOUT THE PLAN?! I THOUGHT WE WEREN'T GONNA RUSH INTO ANYTHING!" the two shouted in unison.
You sighed, resting your cheek in your palm as you looked back down at the lawn.
"Too late."
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Things had gone wrong fast.
After the four of you, though really you and Zoro, fought through the hordes of Galley-La workers, you eventually made it to the hallway leading to the mayor's bedroom.
Zoro had managed to cut down the door, coincidentally, at the exact same time Luffy burst in through the wall.
Robin, along with workers Lucci, Kalifa, Kaku, and Blueno, were all standing over Iceberg's body.
They went into a long explanation of how they pulled everything off, then attacked a man named Paulie and told Robin that her job was complete.
Though Luffy wasn't too accepting of the woman's farewell.
But Blueno, the fake bartender, blocked his path, and seemed to be able to combat each and every one of Luffy's moves.
"AGH! I said out of my way!" Luffy started, using his Gum-Gum Gatling to attack the large man.
But he dodged each and every hit with ease, as if he was a piece of paper billowing in the wind.
"Whoa! Even though he's big, he sure is fast!" Chopper exclaimed, wide eyed at the sight.
Past the large man's figure, Luffy noticed Robin still making her way to the window.
"Robin!" he called, trying to run after her.
Blueno blocked him once more, distracting the boy by beginning to hop on the air.
'He can fly?!'
"Tempest..." Kalifa and Kaku wound up a kick, before using it to send Luffy flying into the hallway, "Kick!"
But the gust of wind behind it was sharp, almost as if they had swung a very large blade.
You and Zoro's eyes shot wide at the same time.
"Get down! Hurry!" the two of you shouted in unison.
All of you hit the deck together, and narrowly dodged the gigantic slash sent over your heads.
"Luffy!" you exclaimed, turned behind you to check on him.
He had been thrown pretty far.
"They did all that with a single kick? No way!" Nami muttered, examining the huge slash mark left in the wall.
"Technically, it was the sharp gust of wind that followed it," Kalifa corrected, "We call it the Tempest Kick."
Zoro broke into a dash for Kaku, the two of them clashing weapons, Kaku's being a shipbuilding tool.
Taking that as a signal, you went after Kalifa, your mace and her heel clashing as you swung.
"Such an archaic and barbaric weapon," she taunted.
You furrowed your brows, pushing off and swinging your foot instead, which had a sword coming out of it.
She backflipped out of the way, landing in a handstand and sending a kick straight to your face, but you instant formed a shield and blocked it.
"That's a very interesting devil fruit you have," she smirked, flipping upright and starting to hop on air, like Blueno did.
"God's Messenger: Army and Point!" you exclaimed, forming a whip as your feathers popped off, all going to attack her.
She was surprised for a moment as the feathers blocked her vision, and you used the whip to grab her by her ankle, ready to pull her down.
But just as you were about to, you glanced at Zoro, only to see him get punched full of holes by Kaku's finger.
"ZORO!" you shouted, eyes shooting wide as his mouth spat up a ton of blood.
'SHIT! GOTTA GET OVER THERE AND HEAL HIM! QUICK!'
"Eyes up here, darling," Kalifa smirked, using your whip to yank you up to her before turning on Iron Body, making you smash your head directly into hers.
A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, and a single stream of blood poured from your scalp as you dropped to the ground.
"(y/n)!" Nami and Chopper cried, eyes wide and fearful.
It hurt like hell, but you weren't going down without a fight.
You weakly lifted your head, the speech Lucci was giving going in and out your ears until he suddenly began to turn into some sort of leopard monster.
'This just went from shit to fucking shit-storm.'
"No! He's a Carnivore Zoan-type!" Chopper gasped, terrified, "They're the most brutal of them all!"
"Lucci, the workmen are making their way up the stairs," Kalifa warned.
"They won't make it that far..."
With a single kick, the man completely destroyed the ceiling below, sending it crashing down.
"Stupid pidgeon jerk!" Luffy shouted, managing to land a punch on the man's face while he was distracted.
Lucci glared, and swung his arm over faster than you could see.
"Finger Pistol!"
Within seconds, you captain was impaled by the cat-man's claw.
"Luffy!" Zoro shouted, eyes wide.
"No!" you gasped.
Nami's tears could be heard throughout the entire room as Luffy struggled to breath, Lucci grabbing him by his face.
"Have a nice flight!" he spat, throwing the boy straight out the window and clear across town.
"Luffy!" Nami screamed, shaking with fright.
You were at a loss for words.
This couldn't be happening.
Luffy was one of the strongest people you knew.
If he couldn't fare against these guys, what did that say for you?
"Damn you!" Zoro cursed, making a run for Lucci, sword drawn.
"Iron Body."
The swordsman went for the arm, trying to slice it off, but it clashed as if it were metal, and Lucci roundhouse kicked him through the ceiling, dropping one of his swords on the way.
"Protect Nami!" you shouted, ordering all of your feathers to her, "Get her and Chopper out of here!"
They quickly detached, and scooped up the navigator and the doctor, zipping off far away from the scene.
And leaving you as the last domino standing.
You grabbed Zoro's sword and held it close as Lucci yoked you up by your neck, glaring at you so sharp that his eyes would cut down boulders if they could.
You knew he wouldn't be able to go after them.
The risk of being seen by one of the workers was too great, and their plan was already way behind schedule.
So if he couldn't get the other two, then he was going to take out all his anger on you.
"What would you say if I made you feel the most pain you've ever felt in your life?" he asked, his tone icy.
You scoffed, amused by his attempt to intimidate you.
"I'd tell you I'm into that," you smirked down at him, punctuating your sentence by spitting in his face.
He growled, throwing you up and kicking you out the window, sending you careening through the town.
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You crashed into a building at full force, knocking it over and landing with the debris on another roof.
"SHIT!" you growled in pain, tightly clutching your shoulder.
You had heard a wet pop the second it collided with the concrete.
It was dislocated for sure.
"Dammit! I don't have time for this!" you hissed through gritted teeth, "I've gotta find Luffy and Zoro!"
Weakly, you pulled yourself up, trying to take a quick survey of where you were, despite the unforgiving wind.
And it seemed to be you were somewhere in the backstreets, the allies below you already completely flooded.
'The boys got thrown pretty far. I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up back here, too.'
You looked down at your arm, its limpness reminding you of the task at hand.
"First things first," you grunted, shutting your eyes and allowing you angelic glow to come over you, healing your arm, head, and neck.
And once your power was finished, the glow left, leaving you as good as new.
"Next," you sighed, turning to glance at your featherless wings.
Waiting for them to completely grow back would take a day or so, and you didn't have that kind of time.
So you'd have to go for the painful, last ditch option.
You dropped to your knees, bracing yourself for the oncoming torture.
'Take deep breaths...'
You began the process, forcing your body to grow more feathers, your grip on your skirt nearly ripping through the fabric.
The pain was similar to that of forcing your nails to grow.
...
By ripping each of them out one by one.
Slowly, but surely, the first few rows had regenerated, but they were not nearly enough for flight.
"Come on! Your friends are counting on you!" You slammed your fist down, your teeth nearly biting through your lip.
You pushed harder, beads of sweat rolling down your temple as more and more feathers grew.
Your breaths were deep and controlled, hoping to breath yourself through it.
'One more push! Almost done!'
You gave your final push, your last few feathers sprouting before your body finally collapsed.
"Done..." you panted, relieved, "Now I gotta... find the others."
Standing up, you grabbed Zoro's sword, only to turn and see a wave almost as tall as the clouds.
It was headed straight for you.
"CRAP!" you exclaimed, unfurling your new wings and jetting off.
You were originally going to head back a little closer to town, but out of the corner of your eye you noticed a familiar pair of boots sticking out a chimney.
'ZORO!'
Without a second thought, you zipped over, the looming tsunami providing a whole lot of motivation.
But as you drew closer, you realized you wouldn't be able to hold Zoro's sword, and give a full-forced bash at the same time.
'Fuck it...'
You closed your eyes and rammed head first through the chimney, completely destroying it.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Zoro exclaimed, wide eyed as the chimney seemed to explode around him.
"Zoro!" you cheesed, catching him bridal style before doing a hard one-eighty, "Hold on!"
"(y/n)?! Did you break that with your head?! The hell were you thinking?!" he realized, noticing the steady stream of blood running down your forehead.
"I couldn't use a weapon 'cause I was too busy holding your sword," you panted, handing it to him, "I snagged it from Lucci before getting thrown out here."
He gratefully took it from you, his face serious as the events started coming back to him.
He and Luffy had been thrown out of the window, leaving you to protect Nami and Chopper all by yourself.
The man could only imagine what you had gone through to keep them safe.
"Are Nami and Chopper alright?" he asked.
"Yeah," you nodded, "I had my feathers fly them to safety. And CP9 didn't seem to go after them. They should be good for a while."
"I see," the swordsman nodded, looking down at his blade.
He should've been there.
"I'm sorry for not being there to help you."
You cocked a brow, a confused look on your face.
"You don't have to apologize, Zoro," you assured, looking down at him with a relieved smile as you landed on the bridge.
You put him down, and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
"If I'm being honest," you sighed, resting your face in the crook of his neck, "I'm just glad you're safe."
Zoro's breath hitched, and a tinge of crimson graced his cheeks.
'Fuck...'
It shouldn't make him happy to hear how worried you were about him.
But you were so soft, and so warm.
And the way you were looking at him was making something buzz in his chest.
He knew he shouldn't indulge in this.
He knew that this was a line that once crossed, would never be the same again.
Yet he couldn't stop his arms from looping around your waist.
Couldn't stop himself from pulling you closer.
Couldn't stop himself from breathing you in, accepting his new reality.
"I'm glad you're safe, too, (y/n)..."
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oosleepyfaeoo · 2 years ago
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How could you be so blind? - Part III
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Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Blind!Reader
Summary: Aemond sees you as the most beautiful woman in the world but you can't see that. (sorry I suck at summaries.)
Warning: a lil angst, the reader is a female, eventual smut
Words: 1,721
A/n: English is not my first language.
Part 2 / Part 4
Aemond kicks the door open as he enters his penthouse, with Alys hot on his heels. A smug smile on her face. 
“What in the actual fuck was that, Alys?” He growls, his lilac eye burning with hatred.  
Alys throws her purse to the massive sofa and walks towards him, her hips swaying sensually. “what do you mean sweetheart?” She looks up to meet his gaze, a fake innocent smile on her lips. 
“You know very well what I mean.” He spits out. “Who invited you to the party? Cause I'm sure as hell it wasn’t me.” 
Aemond was LIVID. After your last encounter at your place, he texted Alys, breaking their... deal. He wanted to say more than that, to accuse her of declaring that the book you gave him was from her. But he didn’t have the energy so he wrote a simple text. 
Don’t appear in front of me ever again. 
Aemond consumed a lot of his time thinking about his feelings towards you. Wishing to stop being a coward and confess his feelings for you but it wasn’t that easy. The fear of being rejected and ruining your friendship made him almost explode from anxiety. Spending most of his nights awake, his mind plagued by the thoughts of you.  
When you refused his invitation, he accepted his fate by going alone to the party. Not wanting anyone else but you. But unfortunately, Alys had other things in mind. Appearing by his side when he walks into the red carpet, interweaving her slim arm around his.  
That made the paparazzi go wild. The flash of the cameras shooting so fast almost made his only good eye go blind. Journalists shouted question after question, asking if they were together and if yes, how long.  
Before Alys could reply something stupid, Aemond pull her away into the party. Leaving behind the crazy mess of confused journalists. 
That night passed so fucking slow. Aemond couldn’t stand Alys anymore, hating how she made them look like they were married or something whenever someone approach them. 
Helaena gave him a confusing look, surprised to see Alys with him and not you.  
“I may or may not ask for a lil favor from your kind older brother.” She said with a wicked smile. 
Aemond knew something was wrong with Aegon cause since he arrived at the party, Aegon have been hiding away from him as if Aemond was the plague in person. That bastard put her name on the guest list. 
“Alys... This is getting out of hand.” He sighs, resting his head on his hand. Feeling a headache start to form. “You knew that I didn’t want you at the party. You know that things between us are over!”  
Alys frowns, her eyes shining with rage. “Is this because of that handicapped girl?” she snaps. “Y/n, is it? Such a boring name but at least it suits her.”  
Aemond could feel his blood boiling at her words, grabbing roughly her arm. Forcing her to meet his hateful gaze. “Say that again or Gods help me, direct a simple word towards Y/n and I will end your modeling career in one day. Do you hear me?” He growls lowly, noticing a hit of fear in her eyes but it was gone quickly. 
She pulls away and grabs her purse. “You will regret this, Aemond.” She snarls, walking towards the door. “Mark my words.” And with that, she was gone. 
Aemond groans and falls down to his sofa, sighing as his tense body melts into the soft cushions. He grabs his phone and quickly texts Aegon. 
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Aemond sighs tiredly, losing all hope for his brother. 
Finally, it’s over. Now he can focus on you.  
//// 
You hum happily as you pack up your books, being done with the classes. Helaena stood by your side, eyeing you skeptically.  
“Someone is in a good mood.” She says while walking out of the class with you. “Did something good happen during the weekend?”  
A shy smile appears on your lips as you recall that today was Monday. The day of your first training with your new guide dog. You are so excited to start training that you almost couldn’t sleep the other night. But there was another thing you were also excited about. To spend more time with Cregan.  
Cregan Stark was the definition of a true gentleman.  
During your appointment with him, he was kind and patient. Asking some questions of how was your way of living, your schedules, whether your university accepts guide dogs in their establishment, etc.  
His question was to help him find the perfect dog for you, with the right personality and temperament. 
He also explained how this was a family business, taking great pride to train and give lovely homes to those great beasts so they could help people in need. The way he excitedly explains everything about his work to you, shows you how he loves his job. 
After all the talk, he took you to see his dogs. The sound of all of them whining and barking happily as they see their owner, wanting pets and treats from him, made you smile brightly. 
Cregan told you to take a seat while he went to get the dog that he had in mind. After a few seconds, the sound of heavy paws stomping the ground made your head perk up.  
“Easy boy! We don’t want to scare your new owner, don’t we?” Cregan says with a laugh as the massive dog tries to jump onto your lap. “This is Knight. He’s one year old, perfect to begin his training. He’s already trained with the basics but his guide dog training will begin with you.” 
“Knight... What a cute name.” You pet his massive head, feeling his soft fur through your slim fingers.” Will you be my Knight in shining armor?” a giggle exploded from as Knight bumps his head against your chest. “Can you describe him for me?”  
“Oh.. Of course!” You hear him taking a seat beside you and you felt his fingers brush through yours as he pets Knight’s head. “He is 34 inches in height, he weights now 60 pounds but when he’s fully grown, he will be 120 pounds. Part of his weight is fur, so don’t worry.” 
Your eyes widened, feeling a little nervous thinking of how he will fit in your small apartment. Well, you two will fit perfectly but you couldn’t have more people over, or else no one will move around the apartment freely. 
“His coat is pitch black with a small spot of white on his chest.” A giggle fell from your lips as Knight start licking your hands. “He has heterochromia, his right eye is light blue and his left eye is dark brown.”  
Your smile fell a little as the image of Aemond came to your mind. Of course, Aemond doesn’t have heterochromia but Knight’s eyes made you remind of him.  
After meeting Knight and getting used to him, Cregan said that you will begin the training that week. 2 hours for three days a week, after your classes, and you will meet him at the park with Knight.  
“Get everything ready for Knight this Monday cause after the first class, you will take him with you to your home.” He says as he escorts you to the door. “You will bring him with you everywhere you go, so he can get to know the space you frequent.”  
You nod and said your goodbyes. 
~~~~ 
“Well let’s say I have a date with a big haired boy,” you say with a giggle, referring to Knight but Helaena didn’t know that which made her look at you with a confused look on her face.  
“What?” she asks, watching you walk into the bus. 
You wink in her direction, well at least you think you did. “You will see tomorrow.” And with that, you are gone. 
Helaena quickly grabs her phone and texts Aemond. 
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//// 
“Good! Now you can give him a treat.” Cregan says, watching you order Knight to sit so you can give him the treat. “You both seem to work very well together.”  
You gave him a cheerful smile. “Knight is a great work partner! I couldn’t have wished for a better dog than him.”  
Cregan hums and start packing up his stuff, ending his class early cause of the dark clouds forming above them in the sky. “I think it might rain. Let's end here” He says as he starts feeling small drops falling on him.  
You nod and start guiding Knight toward the path to your house. “Alright! Thank you for the class, Cregan! See you tomorrow.” You waved at him and start walking.  
“Huh... Wait! I'll accompany you to your apartment.” He jogs to you just as you walk out of the park. “Since it’s Knight's first trip to your house, I wanna see if he pays attention to the path.”  
“Oh?... Sure!” You say as you both start walking to your house, praising Knight during the trip as he pays attention to every corner and smell. 
//// 
Aemond was sitting in his car in front of your building when he sees you with a big, handsome guy beside you, laughing at some joke he told. Aemond’s blood boils with jealousy. Who does this guy think he is?  
His eye widen when he sees a massive black dog walking beside you with a harness saying “Guide Dog! Please Do not touch him!”  
“So this guy is the guide dog trainer Y/n talked about...” He hums, his large hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as anger and jealousy ran through his blood.  
He watches both of you walking in your building, noticing the guy’s hand dangerously resting on your lower back.  
Turning his car on, he drives back to his place. He needs advice on this matter. He never had a serious relationship before or fight for someone since women mostly throw themself at him.  
The first person that comes to his mind is his sweet sister, Helaena. She must know how he can conquer you back. She knows what to do.  
Relax, Aemond. It will be fine... I hope... 
.
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chaoticfandomgirly · 5 months ago
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If you ask me what was the most heartbreaking scene in supernatural, then sorry to disappoint because it was not when either of the Winchester brothers died or when Cas died, even Bobby, Crowley, Charlie and anyone in the show. Don't get me wrong, these scenes are heartbreaking alright, but dying became such a recurring theme that I found it hard to shed a few tears. I was mostly left with sadness and numbness.
But the scene that really fucked me up was when Sam and Dean coerced Jack into the Ma'alak box. I mean, here is a child who is new to the world that he barely understands, he has a fucked up family tree and powers he doesn't know how to control. He made a mistake because of said powers and wasn't even conscious enough to understand what he'd done. The only people he trusted, the ones he thought of as his fathers, were now plotting to lock him up possibly forever, while his other father figure was missing. This child was there with no one to protect him but himself.
And, to add to this scene, it kind of showed just how far and insane dean had gone. In that moment he became an image of John which was even worse. All of his character arc seemed to have gone down the drain and made him unrecognizable. I think I never hated Dean more than in that moment.
I get that he was grieving Mary, but tbh, she wasn't really mother of the year when she had come back (which I understand). Plus Mary coming back was a big deal in on itself in the first place. She was supposed to be dead (as were a lot of characters). I also believe that Mary shouldn't have provoked Jack when he was in such an emotional state and had been warning her to back off.
I just feel so enraged whenever I think about this scene because Jack, despite being the most anticipated villain in the former seasons, was also the purest and the most well-intentioned character out of them all. I could not find a single fault in him.
I just wish Dean hadn't done that because it doesn't suit him at all after having the reputation of loving kids. Especially not after admitting to being somewhat of a father to Jack. I could understand his initial reservations (even tho I was still furious) but what he did with ma'alak box was after he had a bond with him. And it was definitely not father of the year stuff. Kind of detested Sam too for not protesting enough against Dean but at least he had the decency to feel ashamed and seem regretful. I just, I can't.
I love Dean, truly. But sometimes he is a major asshole and this scene is something I vehemently refuse to believe as canon. I don't like the last 3 season at all in fact.
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altocat · 5 months ago
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I know there's a lot of talk of genesis attitude pre and post degradation, but what are the main differences in your opinion? How much does his attitude actually change?
I definitely think his degradation warped him, or at least took the more negative aspects of his personality and increased them tenfold, or influenced him into doing things he normally would have never done, whether out of desperation or the fact that he's actually receiving literal brain damage from his sickness.
Before his degradation, I think Genesis was definitely arrogant, hotheaded, and occasionally kind of rough around the edges towards strangers. He certainly had a lot of messy aspects to his personality, whether that was his jealousy for Sephiroth or his occasionally spicy attitude towards other people. This was mostly born from a sense of insecurity, wanting to impress people, to be recognized and valued. More than anything, Genesis wanted people to acknowledge him, to see him as someone whose existence mattered. He was terrified of being alone, or being seen as a burden.
For all his negative traits pre-degradation, Genesis had twice as many positives. Genesis could be kind, even sweet, especially towards the younger soldiers who had yet to prove themselves (Genesis heavily related to the feeling). When he wasn't focused on his rivalry with Sephiroth, he was a loyal comrade and a courageous fighter. He could be teasing and mischievous, but never to the point where he'd take things too far, at least not intentionally. He loved pranks and contests, still viewed the world with some lingering sense of innocence. He believed in storybook heroes and fables. He wanted to BECOME one someday. He could be practical, borderline chivalrous when it suited him. He could even be ready to sacrifice himself for the sake of his friends. Genesis had many flaws, but beneath his fiery exterior, there was a good-natured person who wanted to connect with others, wanted to be the hero they deserved.
After his sickness, Genesis throws a lot of his better traits away. He becomes overly spiteful, openly provocative, completely willing to hit someone where it hurts. His feelings towards Sephiroth warp from a competitive friendship to genuine malice, wanting revenge. He still never meant for Sephiroth to DIE (or Angeal for that matter), but he DID want to show him up somehow. And no longer had the restraint to care about the methods used to do it. Genesis also became hyper aggressive, his temper explosive, his thoughts constantly clouded. He acted on impulse even worse than he ever had before. He just did what FELT good in the moment and didn't think about the consequences....
....Until he was cured. After being healed by Minerva, the full weight of Genesis' actions falls upon him all at once, reliving every ugly moment, every thoughtless, cruel, violent action. SEVEN YEARS' worth of sins to atone for. Seven years' worth of brutality and loss. Genesis is crippled, body and soul. He seals himself in his watery tomb not just for the sake of the planet, but out of regret. He remembers his friends, the things he said and did to them. He remembers everything. He loved them. He never wished to harm them. WHY did he do it? Was it the sickness? Or was it really him this whole time? He can't bear to live with those thoughts. It's eating him alive. He grants himself the mercy of sleep as a means of temporarily escaping them, letting them haunt his dreams as he surrenders himself to oblivion.
The Genesis that emerges years later is cynical, jaded, world-weary, but ultimately wiser and more subdued. He still has his sharp wit and poetic personality, but it's a lot more muted now. Mostly, he's just tired, going through the motions. He seems a lot quieter, gentler around people. Through his altered genetics, he will live an exceedingly long extended life, surviving long after all the others (except for Vincent) are gone. In that time, Genesis travels the planet alone, doing good where he can, but never forgetting what was lost.
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heyidkyay · 7 months ago
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Five (The End)
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors note: The ending! The final chapter of Matty and Mouse's story, my heart is actually breaking. Honestly loved writing these two, as well as baby Teds, and I hope you lot loved them too because all the love this series has gotten means so much, it feels surreal. Hopefully I can write a few blurbs of them or something in the future but this is it for now. So thank you for all the support!
Warnings: EMOTIONS, Matty and Mouse way of thinking, little bit of angst, referencing to past hurts (such as not making it to a certain age), smut, unprotected sex, self-conscious characters?
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
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Matty wouldn’t have been able to say what the time must have been if anyone had dared ask. He’d been propped up against the headboard, still in his t-shirt and jeans, his hand never having fallen from the top of her head even after she’d finally worn herself out and drifted to sleep.
His stomach churned pitifully at the reminder, at how hard she had cried. Gasping and sobbing into that fucking pillow she still held onto, all whilst clinging to the skin of his wrist with an unforeseen strength. As though she’d been pleading in her grip of him, asking him not to go just yet.
That hold had diminished a tad during the night, she’d always been a fitful sleeper– had kneed him one too many times between the legs for him to not know that fact– but this time around… She’d been almost deathly still, aside from the frowning expressions that clouded her face whilst she’d dreamt.
He continued to sit there though, watching on as the moon sunk so that the sun could slowly climb its way into the irradiating sky, giving way to that first hint of morning.
He hadn’t slept a wink, not really. Nodded off for a second or two once or twice before he’d found himself jerking awake again. Couldn’t seem to stay down for much longer than that.
And why would he? When he’d all but destroyed the woman laying beside him. This proud, strong and resilient woman that he’d been so idolised by, so enraptured with. The one person in his fucking forsaken life that had appeared so utterly invincible.
She was a survivor. A mother. A friend. 
And she was kind. Funny. Resilient.
Then she’d gone and met him, hadn’t she?
And he’d ruined her like he did everything else.
Practically broken her. 
Torn the last pieces of her further apart.
The thought alone made him feel sick to his stomach. Aching with this unbound need to grovel and cry at her very feet, to make her see enough sense so that she could understand just how much she didn’t need someone like him. That she was strong enough to do it all alone. That she didn’t need to cling to him as she had, like rust to a buoy long lost at sea.
Guilt.
That was what that sticky feeling growing in his gut was. That overwhelming malady that was eating him up from the inside out, making him feel so utterly sick.
He had come over to see her. So that they might be able to talk things out. He’d come to apologise. To make things right between them. But instead, what had he done?
Pushed.
He’d pushed and fucking pushed, forcing her hand enough so that she had cracked and he’d been able to slip past those high guarded walls of hers.
And now here they were.
He couldn’t bring himself to regret it though– not all of it at least. 
To have held her again… It had calmed some sick twisted part of him. 
To have just seen her and heard her voice, no matter how pained and angry it had been. It was like the world around him had softened for a split second. Become all grainy.
Matty glanced back over to her sleeping form, to the way she had bundled the duvet high up over her head so that the tip of her nose could bury itself in the slight curve it made, her chin tucked away. 
His hand was still lost somewhere in her hair, thumb cascading out over her temple every now and then, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not until he had no other choice in the matter. 
So he carried on, staying there and lying awake. Thinking over the night before. Thinking back to her devastated expression, to the wary look her eyes had held. To the way she hadn’t spoken a word. To how she had simply forced her cries into silent sobs.
Suddenly, he was stuck on the very realisation that she hadn’t been reacting to it all, to everything she’d been feeling, to what had happened, but rather retreating. Hiding away whilst, somehow, still allowing him to be near. To stay. To watch over her.
A soft sniff had him blinking, regaining composure quick enough so that he could catch the scene play out before him. 
I was embarrassed by the previous night's events. By the fact that I had been so determined to keep Matty at arms length and then failed entirely. That he had seen me so weak and well– broken.
But it had all come to a head, I supposed.
I’d been keeping up appearances ever since everything had fallen out, putting on a brave face and a smile for anyone and everyone who could see. It was only ironic, I guessed, for Matty to have been the one to shatter that image completely. 
Still, I swallowed at the sight of him still sitting there beside me the next morning, seeming as though he hadn’t moved an inch throughout the whole night, and shoved all that shame back down. 
“Thought you’d be gone by now.” I heard myself say as I flipped over onto my back so that I could stare up at the ceiling and at the sun drawn lines that stretched out across it.
I listened to his quiet laugh, to the way he shuffled slightly on the mattress, though I didn’t dare look back at him. It was too early and I already felt as though he’d seen enough of me. “Was just hoping for a chance at one of your brews, is all.”
Something in me shifted at his easy words. At the fact that he’d chosen to try and make me smile, instead of calling me out on all my messy bullshit.
“And if I’ve got no milk?” I replied, just because this was easier than arguing anymore.
I felt him shift, probably shrugging if I knew him as well as I thought I did. “Shops open soon enough.”
The corner of my mouth twitched, although I continued my staring contest with the blank space sat high above us. 
“Who says I’ll let you back in?”
He did laugh then, a deep rumble of a chuckle that was rough from disuse and a lack of sleep. Matty sniffed, “Just gonna have to try my luck then, I ‘spose.”
It was only in that next second that I realised something, something that had me inhaling sharply as Matty’s fingers dragged their way through my hair to tuck a frizzy strand behind my ear, before then pulling away entirely.
My eyes slipped closed at the sudden loss and my hands curled into tight fists beneath the duvet at the very thought of him having stayed that way throughout the night. Of having held me in the only way he’d been able to, as though he believed it might have kept some small part of me together. Only pulling away now that he could see that I wasn’t going to crack beneath the weight of everything I still held.
The bed shifted and the sound of his feet hit the floor.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he stood.
Matty moved throughout my bedroom with an ease I didn’t even own, picking up the hoodie he’d thrown over my desk chair all those days ago, the same one I hadn’t allowed myself to touch, let alone wear. 
I almost told him not to take it, but withheld. Only just managing to bite down on my tongue as I watched him shrug it on. It was his afterall.
“Gonna nick your keys,” He told me whilst he shook the hood out around his neck and dragged it up over his tousled curls, “Only be about ten minutes. You can shower or whatever, not worry about letting me back in.”
I could only nod in return and he smiled, pausing in the doorway to look back at me for a second or two before he nodded, almost fretfully, and turned away.
I waited, lying there still enough that I was surprised I didn’t go stiff from how tightly I was wound, until I heard the familiar rattle of keys and then the squeaking hinges of the front door. It closed behind him so quietly that had I not been holding my breath I might not have even heard it. 
I was rubbing at my face not a minute later, hauling back tears leftover from last night's show, before I heaved an anguished scream that was more air than actual sound from my lungs.
Forcing myself to calm– and not dissolve into fucking hysterics– I willed myself up, noting that I was still naked as I kicked the covers away. Another thing I’d gone and bared for him, I supposed. As though it wasn’t enough that I had already cried myself to sleep with him just sitting a hand’s stretch away, but that we’d actually gone and slept together. After everything.
My head was warring with my heart as I dragged myself up out of the dirtied sheets, throwing on an old tee so that I could shove them into the washer before he got back. I forced myself into the shower quickly after, letting the hot water roll off my skin.
I must’ve been stood there for a long while, drowning under the heavy spray, because it was the sound of the door that broke me from the faraway place I’d found myself in whilst staring at the tiled walls.
Blinking, I wiped the water from out of my eyes and forced myself to wash, lathering up my hair and going through the motions, before I finally stepped out. 
I didn’t dare peer into the mirror, not all too desperate to see the state I’d worked myself into on my way out. Choosing to head back into the bedroom instead, padding over towards the dresser to pull out some clean clothes and only noticing the fresh sheets that had been pulled onto the bed when I’d finally dressed.
The towel I’d been holding to lightly dry my hair slowly dropped to my side at the sight. I opened my mouth to call out and probably ask– But I stopped myself before I could. Ask what? I wondered. Why? Then shook my head at the very idea.
Doing the smart thing by shutting my mouth, I dumped the towel in the hamper and pulled on a pair of socks, taking a deep breath before deciding to venture further out into the flat. 
I found him in the kitchen.
He didn’t peer over his shoulder but he must’ve heard me putter in because he greeted me: “I know I said I’d be quick but I passed by that little bakery on my way back– that hidden gem we liked that one time? Anyway, it just smelt fuckin’ devine.” He accentuated that last bit, making me smile slightly, “And I just couldn’t not, you know? Been a while, but they had those danishes you like in the window. Got a couple to share as well as some other bits.” Matty explained, head still halfway in the bag he’d obviously brought back with him, a pint of milk sat alone on the side, “And a sausage roll for Teds– kid was eating them like he was gonna starve a while ago. So I just thought...”
Matty shrugged, as though that in itself was no big deal, him thinking of my son, and turned around to glance my way with a display case of baked-goods now lining my kitchen counter.
I snorted softly at the sight, jerking my chin out towards the lot of them, “Just thought you’d bring back half the shop?” I teased and was all too pleased when he chuckled around the beginnings of a smirk.
He was quick with his quip, “So I’m guessin’ you don’t want one of these danishes then?” 
I narrowed my eyes at the sheer nerve. “I never said that.”
Matty’s nose scrunched with his next shrug before he moved to snap one up for himself. “Sort of sounded like it, sweetheart.”
I shook my head, biting down on my growing grin as I slid across the kitchen to grab at one too. 
I hummed around the first bite I took and all but moaned at the flavour of it, blinking my eyes back open only to find Matty wearing the most delighted little grin. I rolled my eyes but didn’t grant him the gift of an actual reply, though it didn’t seem to waver him either way.
We seemed to move seamlessly around one another after that; him filling up the kettle whilst I placed two mugs down on the countertop; the clink of a teaspoon being shot into one cup as I moved to grab the tin of tea bags; Matty switching the radio on like it was second nature and me smiling away to myself as I poured the milk.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek once we’d finally settled, he’d chosen to take up room at the table whilst I carefully stored the remaining pastries away for later.
I wanted to talk, to try and hash things out again, because this felt right to me. Him being here. In my dingy little kitchen, small but still so crowded with all sorts of bits and bobs, as well as a plethora of crayon coloured drawings. And he just, well, Matty just fit here. Or maybe that was just me hoping. Ignoring the bigger warning signs so that I wouldn’t have to feel so alone again.
Was he lying to me?
Had he relapsed?
Did he cheat?
It didn’t seem like he’d done any of those things. There was no guilt in his gaze and yesterday… I’d never seen him like that. Even whilst stressed or overwhelmed, Matty had never cried. He’d never looked at me like that either, as though he was slowly breaking before my eyes.
He’d said his piece, he’d promised, and then he’d apologised. 
But.
What if I was just making a bigger mug of myself here?
Letting him back in. Giving him my forgiveness. Having him in my bed.
Was I saying that it was okay? Was that the impression I’d be giving? That he could lie and walk all over me and that everything would still be fine.
It left the world feeling a little more tilted than it had been only moments before. It left me questioning everything, once again.
“What are we doing, Matty?”
Matty was slow in looking back over at her, fingers tapping aimlessly away on the kitchen table to some song that had been playing on the radio. 
“What do you mean?”
She huffed, a quiet chuckle full of disbelief rippling through the air, “I mean, what are we doing here?” 
“The fuck if I know.” Matty replied, just as soft as that laughter she’d given him, shrugging at her from across the kitchen. Because what was he meant to say to that?
She just shook her head in turn though, completely unaware to the way he was now watching her. Taking her all in. The way the outline of her body glowed whilst bathed in the morning light that shone in through the windows. Of how her slowly drying hair curled at parts in the easy breeze that crept by. And how endeared he was by the way she never failed to tuck her joggers, or pyjama bottoms, or whatever else she’d decided to throw on whilst at home into her socks. It made her who she was, all these mindless little tidbits that he’d gathered over the last year, that he had observed. 
“We can’t just– move on. Carry on like nothing’s happened.” She sounded frustrated. Sad.
“Why not?” It was almost sarcastic, the way he said it, but his voice held a whole lot of truth to it. He wanted this and he wanted her. And he’d be a fucking fool to deny it. 
And what would the world make of the two of them anyway? Cause she’d gone and claimed the very same thing last night, hadn’t she? 
The pair of them, fools.
“‘Cause everything’s a mess.” She answered back, staring at him now, almost defeated. 
Her shoulders were slumped and she wore that sad smile she often favoured when she was at a loss, slowly being eaten away by a horde of thoughts she couldn’t seem to control. 
He watched her fidget with the hem of her sleeve, peering down at it. 
“Because after everything, Matty,” She breathed, voice soft even in the quiet of the kitchen, “I know that I love you and I don’t want to lose what we have left here. I don’t want that ruined.”
Matty’s mouth worked itself into a small smile as his eyes dragged between her own, trailing over the short scar that crossed the bridge of her nose, remembering the night she’d teared up when he’d reached out to caress it. 
“I’d rather be ruined by you than not have you at all, Mouse.”
She blew air from out of her nose in a soundless chuckle, cheeks rounding around an amused grin for the briefest of seconds before her eyes skittered away from him again. “That meant to be all poetic?”
He gave her a curt nod and then just grinned, legs fanned out before him. “In the job description. Musician, remember?”
“Oh, do I.” She quipped back just as sarkily, leaning against the counter as she continued to watch him from under dark lashes. Matty reckoned he’d let her shove him under a microscope if it got her to let him stick around. If only for a while longer.
A silence passed between them. 
“I love you.” Matty murmured, so sure of that fact, “That much I know. But I won’t ask you for anything more than I already have, you make the choice. You can hold the cards. And whatever you decide, I’ll accept.”
Her face hardened a fraction, as though she were steeling herself for an argument or something other. Hiding how underprepared she’d been for his words perhaps. Matty only hoped that she’d heard the truth in them.
“No fight? You’ll just accept it and leave?”
Matty didn’t dare blink but dipped his head in slight acknowledgement. “If that’s what you want.”
The woman before him just continued to stare him down and for once, Matty couldn’t read her face. Had no idea what the hell she might’ve been thinking. Or feeling. Or what plans she was currently devising in that clever head of hers.
“Okay.”
It took all of his sheer effort not to react to that one simple word, even though she had practically just gone and ripped his fucking heart out of his chest. 
Actually, he supposed that was another lie he’d told. She’d done that months ago, on the day they’d met and went and ruined him for good.
I’d rather be ruined by you.
It’s what he’d said.
He couldn’t go back on it now. 
“Okay.” He answered her, voice just barely above a whisper that he wasn’t sure she heard over the squeaking of his chair legs.
And then he was standing in her kitchen for what he supposed would be the last time. He saw her grip the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, gaze unstraying, but she didn’t say another word. 
They stared at one another for what felt like the longest minute on Earth and Matty could practically feel the ground shifting beneath the soles of his feet as he realised that now everything would really change.
His breath caught, the thought hitting him like a shit ton of bricks and he knew then that he had to leave before he broke down and took it all back. Before he was a fucking mess of a man on her kitchen floor. 
He turned on his heel and made for the door.
“Where’re you going?”
Matty froze, entirely rooted to the floor.
He continued to stare resolutely ahead, scared to move in case she had changed her mind. In case she was saying what he thought she was.
“Your tea’s gonna go cold… and I thought you could pick Teds up with me later.” She was going for nonchalant, aiming and almost hitting, but she missed the mark by just a hair. “He was with Ads yesterday, you know, and she dropped him off at nursery this morning for me. Just figured.”
Matty pivoted on his heel, slow going and hardly daring to steal a breath as he did, before he was looking straight at her. At the way her teeth had sunk into her lower lip, the careful sheen her eyes had taken on, and then the singular strand of hair which had fallen from behind her ear. He was across the room and on her in a second. 
Firm hands held her face, thumbs guarding either cheek as he bored everything he couldn’t seem to say into the next look he gave to her. Wanting her to see it all. To know, or simply understand.
“You’re gonna kill me.”
She laughed.
“Wanna bet…” Her words trailed off into a heavy breath and Matty could feel the strength of his grin as he leaned in close, nose bumping against hers, his eyes flickering over the entirety of her face, attempting to take her in all at once.
There was buzzing under his skin, he could feel it in the tips of his fingers, all the way down to his toes, and heard the way it hummed throughout his chest. 
It was then that he realised he couldn’t see an end without her in it.
He wanted everything with this woman. 
Everything.
And that should’ve been the most terrifying thought.
Because once he had believed he would never see the end of sixteen, puking into the bushes outside his bedroom window and not having the strength to make it that extra mile. To let mum know that he was alright.
Then it had been nineteen, that first real stint in hospital. He’d been scared to shit and alone, the darkness hiding all the groans and upset of the other patients with real issues.
But nineteen had come and gone, so then he figured twenty-one. Maybe twenty-two? Definitely twenty-five… Had to be.
Twenty-eight had been both the end and the beginning for him. 
But even without everything that had been holding him back after that, the drugs, the people, the money. After he’d gotten clean– proper clean– he’d never really thought far enough ahead. 
To a point where he might feel settled or want to start building a place for himself in the world. A real place, one amongst family and friends, not just amongst admiration and music– as much as it had helped shape him.
He’d never once pictured this. A person. 
Girlfriends? Yeah. Flings and one night stands? Sure. But a person that would be his. Completely. That he could share half of himself with?
No, he couldn’t say that he’d ever seen that coming, that something like this would have one day been in the cards for him.
And Matty wanted so badly to sink his claws in and cling on for as long as he possibly could, for as long as she’d be willing, and then even more so. Until somebody else came along and inevitably unhooked him. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. Because this was too perfect to go and destroy like that. 
He’d always claimed to be a selfish man, but in this regard, all the love he had worth giving would be spent on her. On the days they’d spend together. On meals and dates. On flowers and apologies for when he eventually messed up again, because he knew himself too well to deny that fact. He’d spend it on giving her security, on rebuilding her trust. He’d spend it on her son. On the little boy he’d become so besotted by.
And if it ruined him, if it killed him? He reckoned he’d be okay with that.
He’d be content. Finally having something to be proud of.
“What are you waiting for?”
Matty eyes tracked the length of her face, fingers tangled in her hair whilst his thumbs pressed into the grooves of her temples. What was he waiting for? 
As soon as he thought it, Matty was pressing against her once more, stealing all the breath from her lungs in his haste to answer her.
It was slow, the kiss; soft in the way his lips captured hers for only a few seconds before he was pulling away again, hands shaking where he still cupped her cheeks.
He wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted, but he could see it in her face, that surety, the warmth. And he wouldn’t question that, maybe in some regards he’d be willing to give her anything, but here and now, with this, with wanting her, he would as selfish as he fucking could be. He’d take all that she would give him.
The next kiss was full and deep– urgent.
Matty’s tongue slid into her mouth, hands falling aimlessly away from her face to whatever part of her he could touch, feeling no ounce of remorse over it seeing as she was on the exact same journey, her fingers winding their way up and over every inch of him. 
She kissed back with just as much force, colliding with him in a way that almost felt tortured, as though trying to make up for all the time they had wasted. Not just over the past few days, but the weeks and months they’d spent dancing around one another, pushing and pulling. Despairing this game of tug of war they had started. 
It ended here.
Matty continued to lean up into her, pressing her into the counter as she clawed at the hoodie he wore. Matty felt her nails catch on the skin of his back, whilst he wrapped his arms around her hips.
“Baby,” He whispered breathlessly and then moaned when her mouth closed around his bottom lip, teeth grazing against the flesh before they then bit down. She rocked into him and Matty swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 
He reached up a hand to cup the back of her neck so that he could mouth his way across her jaw and down her collar, favouring the skin just beneath her ear. “Need you.”
It was both an admission and a plea.
And then she was grabbing at his face too, forcing his mouth back up to meet hers, breath sweeping over the cut of his jaw. She tangled her fingers in his curls and Matty had the barest second to register that he was actually staying. That she was letting him back in.
His body jolted forward on impulse, arms snaking their way around her waist to splay out over her lower back, pulling her that much closer. Her hold tightened too, hand moving down his neck, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point there. 
Matty stepped nearer and she welcomed him in, legs parting to let him step between them, kiss turning hungrier as she arched her back up and away from the countertop. He wanted all of her.
She let go of his hair to press in harder, pulling back only so that she could lick his mouth back open and drive her tongue inside. She murmured his name against his lips, once, twice. And then Matty’s hand was between the blades of her shoulders and holding fast. He moved, spinning them outwards, over towards the kitchen door.
She let out a sharp sound that was half gasp and half moan, but all love and desire when they knocked into the arm of the sofa in the living-room and fell back against the soft cushions. 
When they broke apart it was only out of necessity, the need to catch back the breath that had been forced out of them on their tumble down. They shared an airy chuckle.
Then he watched on as she stretched out further up the settee, fingers caught on his wrist so that she could tug him along with her. Their hips aligned as Matty crowded her again, elbow digging into the chair's arm to hold him up above her. He hovered there, their faces and foreheads pressed together, noses lined up side by side. Matty wished to savour every detail of her.
He kissed her again, slower, softer. His lips moved against hers so gently that it was almost reverent, worship-like, and she matched him toe for toe, pouring her whole soul into it, gifting him all the sweetness that she possibly could. 
Matty prayed to whoever might’ve been listening that he could have this.
He supposed someone must’ve heard him because she said, “Stay,” in this careless whisper, in a tone that was more breath than anything else. And his heart stopped.
And then he was nodding. Almost frantically.
He kissed her, the tip of his nose brushing the underneath of hers as he lifted his head to nod one more time. “Long as you’ll let me.”
She whimpered and he groaned, forehead pushing against hers once more as she lifted her hips up to meet his. 
Then they were both lunging for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at their clumsy eagerness to get undressed, the sofa being of no help.
Matty pushed back to sit up for a moment, luring her up gently with him so that he could slide her shirt off over her head. She returned the favour, letting him trail a finger over the curve of her shoulder and down her arm once they were done before she was on her back once more. 
“So beautiful.” He felt the need to whisper, even though there was no one else around to hear it. She glanced away.
Matty wouldn’t have that though, a careful hand coming up to coax her eyes back to him, hoping that she would hear the sincerity in his words. She was the best thing he’d ever seen, no matter the time of day. No matter how horrible she felt. He’d never been so enamoured by another person, or so utterly lost in his desperate need to make it known. 
His thumb caught on the corner of her mouth and he smiled. “I meant it.” He assured her and felt her shiver beneath him as his words fanned the skin of her cheek, “Beautiful.”
She swallowed thickly, he saw the bob of her throat before he slid his palms down her sides to unhook her bra, dropping it off to the side so that he could mouth along the length of her torso.
He continued to murmur, tone so full of admiration as he attempted to press the words into her skin, hoping that this way they would somehow sink in.
By the time he reached the hem of her trousers she was writhing beneath him, eyes pleading, so Matty made quick work of ridding them, allowing himself to look her over for just a second. She truly was beautiful. 
“Matty,” The sound of his name forced his eyes back up and he was thrown by the dazzling smile she then wore. She took one of his hands in hers, linking their fingers, “I don't have all day, baby.”
He merely shook his head and laughed, figuring that she must’ve seen the many emotions that played out across his face afterwards because she tightened her hold on his hand and motioned him closer so that she could kiss him again.
He took her there on the settee. Worked her over slow and hard, his gaze only ever wavering when they slipped shut or he buried his face alongside the skin of her neck. His hands wandered whilst hers clung tight, leaving him marked and gasping. She murmured the whole while, legs wrapped around his middle to keep him as close as she possibly could, so that he could drive that bit deeper. Matty had never heard her so vocal, just muttering on and on, only ever stopping to cry out or jolt. But even then her words would either come out all warped or in a sharp shout. It only proved to spur him on though, fingers digging in and bruising the soft sides of her hips and thighs.
He could hardly think, listening to her pleads and commands. Such a demanding little thing. 
The heels of her feet dug into his flesh as her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding on, sinking her nails into his skin deep enough to have him hissing. He didn’t dare tell her to let up, just attempted to pick up his pace, hand falling away from the crease of her thigh to drag along her folds, needing her to let go before he could.
“Close?”
He was met with a choked gasp: “Yeah.” Followed by a cascade of assent, breath wetting the cut of his jaw as her hands jumped up to curl themselves along his shoulders.
Matt felt himself nod, but was hardly even aware of it, gaze trained on her face, the watering of her eyes, the pink swell of her lips. “So good for me. Don’t deserve you.”
His words just made her strengthen her already too tight hold and then she was writhing beneath him, tear sliding down the side of her face just as her head tilted far back against the cushions and she moaned.
He wasn’t far behind her, but she continued to work her hips to the best of her ability whilst his thrusts became more and more desperate. He only noticed that he was clenching his teeth when her fingers came up to thread through his hair, slackening the muscles there in his face just as his head fell forward, hovering a centimetre or two above the dip in her collar.
Matty felt lips press against the side of his head, soft but there. “I love you.” She said, and he couldn’t even respond, lost in the sensations that overwhelmed him as he jolted forward, every muscle in his legs tensing as his eyes slammed close. 
His breathing was harsh and laboured when he finally managed to pull out, falling into the little space she created for him on the side of the sofa. He draped an arm over her middle, not giving much thought to the damp sheen on their skin or the mess between her thighs. They could have this for a little while longer.
Matty hid a smile, nosing along her shoulder as he better settled into his position before he kissed the sweet skin there. Her back was to him now, him wrapped up around her body, their legs entangled, and he thought back to those few words of hers. 
Back to that night she’d first said them. 
To when she had last said them.
He started to trail a finger over her side, up and then down before he decided to trace each letter one by one. He heard her huff a laugh when she finally caught on, but he pressed on, writing more.
When she patted his hand and shifted, he frowned, wondering if he’d pushed too far, too quickly, even though she’d been the one to say it first. But she just rolled around to face him and grinned at the face he must’ve worn.
“You’re an idiot.”
His brow pinched but he still felt himself smile, “What?”
She laughed all lovelylike and he blinked at the sweetness of it, wondering when he’d gotten so used to hearing such a pretty fucking sound. 
He poked at her side, prodding, “Go on, tell me.”
With a fond roll of her eyes, Matty watched the stretch of her smile  soften before he stilled slightly at her slow touch, the drag of her finger which trailed over his stubbled cheek. “Just such a you thing to do.” She teased him quietly, fingertip reaching up to skim over the bridge of his nose and then his eyelids.
Matty shrugged, narrowing his eyes a tad but unable to truly hide the small smirk he was wearing. He moved his hand back to her hip, tracing another word that had her huffing and shaking her head in sudden exasperation. Then another. And another.
Her eyes were wide when he chanced a glance up at her and she swallowed at the earnest expression he gifted her. “I mean it.” He whispered into the tiny slot of space that rested between their heads.
He watched as her stare tracked along his face, flicking from one eye to the other. “How can you be so sure?”
Matty shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed up against the settee, a small smile dancing on his mouth. “Never been sure of much, but I know this.”
She quirked an eyebrow, “This your way of askin’?”
Chuckling lightly, he shook his head in turn. “Nah, gotta think of something good. Big.” He grinned at the snort she gave, but continued on anyway, fingers simply brushing against her hip now, “Figure we need time to get there again, sort through this mess.”
“Again?”
Matty hummed, thinking back to the bout of songs he’d been working on over the last few months, to the days G had smirked and asked about some of the lyrics he’d written down. “Been playing on my mind.”
There was a small curve to her brow now, an almost frown but not, Matty knew her well enough to know that she was just a little thrown by his answer.
“How long?”
Her whispered ask had him thinking, but he couldn’t really give her an exact time span. He’d hardly even realised it himself. “I don’t know, but for a while.”
She breathed out a quiet little laugh, eyes darting between his own once more, “So one day then?”
Matty hummed happily, face breaking into a slow going grin as one of his hands came up to cup her face, thumb soothing her cheek. “One day, Squeaks,” He murmured to her, “I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.”
Her cheek warmed beneath his touch but she laughed, shaking her head ever so slightly whilst her eyes looked down before shooting right back up again. “You’re gonna regret that.”
Wrinkling his nose a tad and curling his upper lip, Matty just shook his head, “Nah, don’t reckon so.”
“You say that,” She all but sang before she was kicking up a storm in his hold, quickly trying to get away from the hand that had come up to run a rhythm down her side, tickling her into shutting that daft mouth of hers.
“Yeah, I do fuckin’ say.” Matty chuckled, grinning madly as he continued to grab at her, teasing her bare skin with his tormenting touch. It was with that in which Mouse went sailing, rolling away from him in an attempt to escape, and dragging Matty with, him still so caught up in her that the pair of them went tumbling to the living-room floor.
Matty felt as though all the air in his lungs had been kicked from his chest once the world had stopped spinning and finally righted itself. He realised all too quickly what had happened, a heap of hair splayed over his face as he spluttered. 
“Fuck.” He managed to drag out, forcing a huffy laugh from his chest.
He watched on as she struggled for a second, him having cushioned her fall, and she pushed up onto her palms so that she could glare down at him, not entirely unhappy. Matty snorted and raised his arms in defence.
“Don’t blame me.”
If it was at all possible, her eyes cut sharper. “The fuck I won’t! Why’d you start tickling me?”
“Because you never know when to shut up!” Matty laughed, wheezing a little as he did and bending a knee so that he could plant one foot firmly on the floor, his hand rested on his chest.
She just rolled her eyes though as she battled to sit up, spine curving once she had. Matty reached out to trail the length of it, pulse jumping at the shiver he watched run through her.
“How’d we even go from you being such a sap to us on the floor?” Mouse huffed, reaching up to grab at a throw that had been resting on the nearby armchair. Matty watched through a lazy gaze as she bundled it into an oddly shaped ball of sorts before turning back to him. “Fucking all sticky now too.”
He smiled stupidly, folding his hands behind his head, unashamed as he was, to better protect it from the hardwood floors.
She stood with a roll of her eyes, on unsteady legs mind– something Matty felt all too pleased with– and caught sight of his smirk, and before he could even see it coming the bundled blanket was being thrown at his head. He yelped girlishly and floundered to shield himself from it but it still managed to catch the side of his face with just enough force. 
He listened to her hearty laugh as he tossed the thing back at her legs, frowning when it missed and her footsteps began to trail away. “Oi, where do you think you’re goin’?”
“To shower!” She called out from over her shoulder just before she could disappear through the doorway, “Again!”
Matty huffed a small snicker to himself and resorted to simply staring up at the ceiling whilst he waited, but before he could get too comfortable there she was calling out to him again.
“So you coming or what, Healy?”
And fuck if that didn’t have him scrambling up off of the floor to join her. He smiled when she merely laughed at the eager sight of him rounding the hallway and he found himself wondering how the fuck he’d managed this as she turned on the tap and pulled him under the water with her.
He must’ve seemed a little out of it though because she was tilting her head at him when he peered over at her, her hands at his hips. “You good?” 
Matty hummed quietly, dipping his head to kiss her once more because he could. “Yeah, just happy.”
And wasn’t that a thought. Him happy.
Mouse grinned at him, eyes lighting up with it as he stepped on closer. Her hold tightened, “Me too.”
Me too.
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imrisah · 10 days ago
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I romanced Davrin for my first playthrough and though I liked the story with him a lot, by the end I kind of wished I'd gone for Neve.
I headcanon my Rook and her to at the very least have built an incredibly deep friendship. I think if I could rewrite it to fit my narrative it would be a very slow burn between them.
No regrets really, but I had this flash of a What If while I was going through the final scenes with everyone.
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