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thekisforkeats · 3 years ago

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Ooh jm + shy kiss for the prompts?

Ohhh good one! I had to think about this a little and actually wrote up a bunch that didn't quite work at first. But! Here it is!

Set somewhere in the first few minutes of 160, in those weeks between arriving at the safehouse and Hazel Rutter. Featuring autistic Martin trying to navigate social situations because that is evidently what I write now.

(Incidentally the term "weak ties" was coined by a Stanford researcher in 1973. Link to the relevant paper. Credit where due, and all.)

(No beta no edits we die like archive assistants.)

It takes Martin a week to convince Jon to come down into the village with him.

If he's being honest with himself--and he's trying very hard to be honest with himself these days, so he can identify any Lonely-type thoughts--he really just wants to show off his boyfriend to the nice lady at the little shop in the village where he's been picking up essentials.

Martin is a naturally friendly person, or maybe a naturally personable person. This was not always the case; he had to practice a great deal to memorize all the scripts to smooth social interactions that other people seem to navigate without thinking about it at all. It can be horribly exhausting, just going to the shops. It's one of the reasons the Lonely appealed to him; how much easier to just move through life without having to recite all those canned lines?

Now that he's out of its grip, he's come to realize how much those interactions matter. He's been reading a lot on the internet about depression and social interaction, about social circles, and one thing that caught his eye is the idea of "weak ties," those people we're not exactly friends with, but who we see on a regular basis and who help us feel connected to a larger community. People who don't really know us and yet know something about us that helps us feel seen. The bus driver who gives you a familiar nod every morning. the barista who's prepping your order as soon as he notices you in line, the shop lady who tries to keep your favorite tea in stock.

So Martin is trying to cultivate those relationships, to feel part of a wider community, rather than just relying on Jon. He thinks that maybe if he'd had more of that, before, if he'd tried harder to go through the world being seen, he might have handled Jon's coma and his mother's death in some kind of healthier manner.

Maybe not, of course, but he's going to use any tool he can to keep the Lonely at bay.

At any rate, even beyond being very good at social scripts, Martin does genuinely like people, he's a good listener, for an autistic guy he's practically a social butterfly. And Elspeth is a nice lady, maybe mid-40's, the kind of person who runs a shop because she actually likes interacting with a stream of customers on a regular basis. So she's just the sort of person for Martin to practice his "weak tie" skills.

Because, naturally, one of the key benefits of "weak ties" is that they are the sort of people you get to be public about your relationship with when none of your closer friends are around.

Yeah, no, all of the above is just flimsy justification, if Martin's being really honest with himself. He's just madly in love and wants literally everyone within a 500-mile radius to know.

That morning, Martin makes a big show of how badly he wants to spend time with Jon, no really, but he really does have to go down into the village.

"We're out of tea!"

"I don't think we have anything for dinner!"

"But I really want to keep listening to you talk about Scottish history!"

And so on.

Jon gives him a tolerantly amused look, and Martin flushes. Is he that transparent, or is Jon just that good at reading him?

"I suppose I can go into the village with you, Martin," he says, eyes glittering. "Since you're so terribly interested in the House of Stuart. I'd hate to leave you wondering what happened to James II."

Martin would feel guilty, but he can tell Jon is pleased to be "indulging" him, and it's not like Martin hasn't been listening to Jon infodump about whatever random facts Beholding's been given him all week.

They hold hands all the way down into the village, and it's nice, to walk through the place and be seen, together. It's comfortable. They'd held hands on walks before, long ago in London, before the Unknowing, but back then they hadn't been sure what they were, hadn't managed to broach the delicate barrier between "friends" and "something else." Now, they're "boyfriends," and Martin keeps finding himself wanting to go up to each person he sees on the street and shout, "This is my boyfriend, Jonathan Sims!!"

By the time they reach Elspeth's shop, he's feeling a little giddy.

He pushes open the door and the little bell rings, and Elspeth looks up from behind the counter and smiles. "Martin!" she says, and Martin's whole body warms in a very pleasant manner, that this woman he's only known a week remembers him. "Oh, and this must be the elusive Jon." She gives them one of those teasing smiles people give to new couples, glittering eyes and amusement at the silly things people do when they're in limerence.

"Yes," Martin says, and suddenly the words stick in his throat. "Yes, this is... is... umm..." Oh, why has he suddenly frozen like a deer in headlights? Why can't he remember the right words?

"Jonathan Sims," Jon says smoothly, stepping forward to offer the woman his hand. "And yes, I'm Martin's boyfriend."

It occurs to Martin, all at once, that neither of them have said that out loud to anyone else. No wonder he's frozen up.

Elspeth glances at the burn scars on Jon's hand only briefly, then smiles--and it's a genuine smile, not one of those pitying ones people sometimes put on when they see scars like that--and shakes said hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replies. "Elspeth Douglas." She has the Highland accent, but softened; she spent her 20's and 30's in London, she's said, and came back to take over the family store when her father fell ill. The similarity might be part of why Martin likes her--that and the fact that it seems that helping her sickened parent improved her life.

"Ahh, yes. The not-so-elusive Elspeth." Jon actually flashes a grin, which Martin finds remarkable. Since when is Jon... friendly? Well, maybe he's trying for Martin's sake. If so, Martin very much appreciates the effort.

The woman behind the counter laughs, and says, "How can I help you?"

"Oh," Martin manages, his brain catching up and letting his mouth work again, "we're just here for tea and things."

"Of course," Elspeth says. "I'll be here when you're ready."

They turn away, to go deeper into the aisles.

"She seems nice," Jon says almost absently. "Shame about her fa--" He pauses, and frowns. Shakes his head, looking irritated. "You didn't tell me about that," he grumbles.

"No, I didn't. But thank you for trying to keep it in," Martin says.

Jon sighs, lowering his voice. "It's becoming harder and harder to separate what I've learned on my own from what Beholding gives me. How much of my thoughts are mine anymore? Did I actually memorize all those facts about the House of Stuart, or am I getting the... mental Wikipedia page, as it were?"

"Seems like a thing you'd know," Martin comments offhandedly. He's focused on figuring out what kind of rice to buy. He wants to try his hand at sticky rice, which really should have calrose, but Jon likes jasmine rice. Do they get both?

He doesn't want to think about Beholding, and how much of it is Jon anymore. He prefers just thinking about it as something like a smartphone app Jon can use without having to actually have a phone in front of him. He does not want to think about how much of his boyfriend has been potentially consumed by some kind of eldritch thing that feeds on fear.

He really doesn't want to think about the idea that maybe soon, Jon won't even need rice anymore, and will just live off statements, no matter how much he jokes about his partner's "eating habits."

Jon has been talking as Martin's been staring at the rice, but Martin hasn't heard any of it. He's brought back to himself by a squeeze of Jon's hand in his.

"Hey," Jon says softly. "You okay?"

In Jon's voice, Martin hears all the concern that Martin himself has been feeling. He forces himself to look at Jon, and sees bright green eyes staring out of a deep brown face. He realizes he's gotten used to the color of Jon's eyes; before the coma, Jon's eyes were brown, like a deep carnelian, and so large and dark sometimes Martin thought he could fall right into them and be happy drowning there. Now they're green, bright and disarming, and Martin's pretty sure this is why Jon still wears glasses he no longer needs, to hide those strange eyes behind plastic lenses.

Those eyes are looking up at him intensely now, and Jon's brow is furrowed, and his mouth is pulled into a frown in a way that highlights one of the worm scars near his lip, and all of it is adorable, but it's also disconcerting for the contrast between the softness of his voice and the intensity of his expression.

Is Jon as afraid of losing Martin to Forsaken as Martin is of losing Jon to Beholding?

Martin frowns at him for a moment, then sighs. "I just..." He has to look away, back to the bags of rice. "I just... don't like thinking about that. Beholding, and... all of it. I just... I just wish..."

"You wish we could be normal." Jon's tone is still soft, and filled only with love and no sort of guilt or self-recrimination.

"Yeah," Martin says, still staring at the rice.

There's a hesitation, and then Jon says, softly and slowly, "You know... normal people deal with these sort of difficult things, too. There's so much out there that can hurt people... the things we deal with, they're weirder than most of the rest of it, but..."

"Yeah, I know, Jon, I just..." Martin hunches his shoulders. "Don't want to lose you again," he finally mumbles.

Jon hesitates a moment, and then he leans in to give Martin a soft kiss on the cheek.

Martin flushes bright red--Elspeth's right there!--and turns to stare at Jon. "W-what... what was... that for?!"

Jon, too, is blushing. "I just... ah... I just... wanted you to know that... that I'm... here. You haven't... lost me. Or anything."

"Oh," Martin says. "Well. Thank you."

There's a moment where they just look at each other, and then Jon blurts, "...Can I kiss you again? It's just, I haven't all morning, and I really sort of wanted to spend the morning cuddling, but you wanted to come down to the shops..."

"Here?!" Martin stares at him.

"We can go behind the shelves if you like," Jon says, blushing furiously.

For some reason, this makes Martin giggle, and then he leans down to brush his lips to Jon's. Softly, shyly, as if they haven't been kissing each other all week, because he really is terribly aware of the fact that there are other people around.

"Tell you what," Martin says as he pulls back, surprisingly breathless despite how short the contact of their lips was, "let's finish up the shopping and then we can cuddle all afternoon."

Jon smiles up at him. "Promise?" The smile widens. "You're not going to drag me around to introduce me to every villager individually?"

"I was not--!" Martin glares at him, but now Jon's smile has become one of those shit-eating grins he gets sometimes, and Martin can't stay mad at him at all.

"You knew," he accuses, but there's no heat in it.

"I had a hunch," Jon says, humming. "I didn't want to spoil your fun, though."

Martin rolls his eyes, and then reaches out to take Jon's hand again. "Well, then, we'd better get to it. Jasmine or calrose? Rice, I mean."

"Both, I think," Jon says. "I find myself very much desiring normality of late, and rice is a terribly normal sort of thing."

#wow this got long #thanks for the prompt i loved writing this!#the magnus archives #tma #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #otp: one way or another together #my writing #my fanfic #writing #fanfic #prompt fill #season four

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

#bnha 297 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #overhaul #muscular #moonfish #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #horikoshi where is gyges!!#your silence is defeaning #first midnight and now this #I am beside myself #r.i.p.

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autumnsart22 · 4 years ago

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A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 2/2

Part 2 of the fanfic my friend wrote!

Warning: SMUT 🔥

Dabi strode off down the hall and you started to work on putting the rest of the groceries away, and cleaning some dishes in the sink. Shigaraki stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen. He looked around before looking at you, raising the empty beer bottle. You opened the drawer that held the trash and recycling and he threw it in with a loud clunk. He stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a little while before you finally asked,

“Can I help you?”

“You’re standing in front of the fridge.” he states plainly. You roll your eyes and move out of the way as he grabs another beer. He makes his way back to the table and sits down.

You both pass the time in silence as he sips on his beer and you finish cleaning the kitchen. At some point Dabi comes out of the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel wearing nothing but your brother's old pair of black joggers that look slightly too big but the strings in the front were tied tight preventing them from falling any lower. Dear god what have you done to deserve this? He switched with Shigaraki who took his turn in the bathroom while you scoured the apartment for extra blankets and pillows and threw them on the couch. When Shigaraki was done in the shower he came out in a long sleeve white shirt and your ex-boyfriend's old pair of grey sweatpants. He joined Dabi who had heated up one of the soba cups from the store.

“Okay I’m gonna go shower, you can just...yea” you spoke out loud trailing off as neither of them paid you any attention, and you left to go to the bathroom. You peeled off your work clothes, just some black jeans and a black blouse, throwing them into the same pile of clothes as Dabi and Shigaraki’s. You took your time washing your hair and and shaving your legs feeling like you deserved to pamper yourself a little given your night. You weren’t that tired given that you basically turned nocturnal since working at the bar. When you felt fresh and clean you dried off and wrapped yourself up in a towel to head to your room. Once you changed into some sweats and a tank top you made your way back out to the living room to find Dabi, now wearing a black t-shirt, and Shigaraki on the couch both nursing another beer while talking in hushed tones which again halted the moment they saw you. They both looked at you.

“What?” You said confused on why they were both staring at you.

“I have more questions,” Shigaraki stated, finally averting his gaze away from you, although it seemed reluctant.

“Okay...shoot” you said walking into the kitchen for a glass of water then plopping onto the middle section of the couch in between them. If there was one piece of furniture you splurged on it was this couch. It was a huge ‘U’ shape and could fit up to 10 people if they squished side by side. Shigaraki and Dabi were both sprawled on the two sides of the couch with you sitting in the bottom of the U.

“What sort of art or shit do people create about us?”

You almost choke on your water. That was not the sort of question you were expecting.

“Why?” you said suspiciously.

“You mentioned it earlier and I’m curious,” Shigaraki said, making large hand gestures swinging his beer bottle around. He must be getting kinda tipsy.

“Fine but if I’m answering these questions. I’m gonna need a stronger drink”

“All out here princess” Shigaraki says, taking the last gulp of his beer and waving it towards you.

“Same here.” Dabi says holding his beer bottle up, as though expecting you to take it. You stand up and grab both bottles and chuck them into the recycling, then grabbing a bottle of rum from the back of your cabinet. You make your way back to the couch and take a large swig shuddering as it goes down. Shigaraki motions for the bottle and you hand it over passing it to Dabi afterwards.

“Okay so back to my question”

“Well people write and draw all kinds of shit. Everything from just realistic art or funny art to overtly sexual” Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this.

“What you don’t believe me?” You ask laughing slightly cause if only they knew.

“People think of crusty in that way?” Dabi laughs.

“Hey like you’re any better staples. Y/N who do people like more?” Shigaraki shoots.

“That’s gotta be Dabi. He’s pretty well known as being attractive”

“Fuck you” Shigaraki pouts and Dabi smirks to himself.

“Hey it’s not my fault, and trust me there’s still a ton of shit about you. And some of both of you” You said this last part quickly while taking another large swallow of rum. You couldn’t help yourself.

“What do you mean the both of us?” Dabi and Shigaraki looked at you hesitantly.

“Well people like to put you two together. It’s called shipping, or they just pair you together as like a duo in fanfiction”

Both of their reactions looked like they were about to gag and murder the other at just the thought of what people had had them do to eachother.

“Okay that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life” Dabi says reaching for the bottle which you hand over willingly.

“Moving on from that,” Shigaraki says, shaking his head as though to physically erase his mind. “So Y/N you’re obviously a fan. Who are your favorites?”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of people I like and don’t like. It depends.” At this point your brain was becoming warm and fuzzy but you didn’t want to let anything slip out that could be potentially embarrassing or would make the two men turn against you.

“Bullshit. Spill”

“I told you it depends”

“On what?” he said this with a sneer.

“I don’t know” You said exasperatedly. “my mood, who’s been most present in the media. It just depends on what I’m looking for.”

“What you’re looking for?” Dabi repeated confusedly.

“Next question” You state simply.

The two villains raise their eyebrows at you, curious at your evasion of the question, but your lips stay shut.

“Fine we’ll come back to that one Princess.” Shigaraki complies.“What do we look like in the show? I mean do we look different in real life?”

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get you guys back?” you ask.

“Not much we can do about it. I’m sure the rest of the league and Kurogiri are tracking down those thugs right now, so answer my question”

“I don’t know. I guess you look kinda different, but I can still recognize you. I can show you if you want?” Shigaraki looks at you with affirmation. You get up to get your computer which you hook up to the tv screen in front of the couch. Dabi and Shigaraki turn so they can see the television, both laying down on their backs. You open your laptop (sorry I am basing it off my computer) and type in your password.

“Is that Shoto?” Dabi says disgustedly. There was in fact a fanart picture of Todoroki amongst the collage that was your background screen.

“Oh yeah. He would be in the it depends list” you say timidly quickly opening up the browser to cover up the background.

“Why the fuck did he look like some 20 year old model?”

“I told you, it’s fanart. People draw characters the way they see them or want to see them. Shoto is also really popular amongst fans if not the most I would say”

Dabi makes a noise of revulsion. You turn back to start typing in Shigaraki’s name into the browser and instantly images pop up as well as the fandom wiki and regular wiki articles. You click on images and start to scroll through.

“This is weird” Shigaraki says slightly in awe but disturbed at seeing this world's visions of his life. “Here give me that” he says gesturing towards your computer. You hand it over reluctantly.

“Seriously?!” he says grabbing the laptop.

“What?” you say hesitantly. Did you forget to close out of something?

He lifts the computer for Dabi to also see the two stickers on the sides of your trackpad.

“The anger explosion boy and pro eraserhead?” Dabi said, judgement was obvious in his tone.

“What?” you said defensively.

“Nothing I just thought you’d be a villain girl and all”

WTF, you think. What was that supposed to mean?

“Why do you think that? And who says I’m not?”

Dabi raised an eyebrow in interest but didn't answer your taunts, instead turning back to the screen. Shigaraki has been scrolling through and tapping on pictures of himself making little noises and reactions.

“This is fucking weird” He states again, the screen was stopped on a very sultry piece of fanart of Shigaraki.

“Take that down you freak. No one needs to see your crusty dusty body like that. Hand it over.” Dabi tells Shigaraki.

Shigaraki passes the computer over and Dabi searches his own name seeing all the pictures of him, although significantly more fanart pops up for him. He scrolls for a little bit but becomes weirded out or downright just bored at the photos of him. He then goes back to the wikipedia page and starts to read. While the two men continue to look at the screen and read information about their show, you stand up and head to the kitchen feeling peckish. You wander through the kitchen opening and closing all the cabinets waiting for something to catch your eye. You open the fridge and close it moving onto the freezer. Your eyes scan the contents when you spot the pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. You take it out and grab a spoon making your way back to the couch. When you get to the couch both Shigaraki and Dabi are staring at you again with intensity and amusement.

“What?” you say, plopping back into your spot, struggling to tear open the plastic and resorting to using your teeth. With both of them still staring at you as though waiting for something, you look at the screen and see that your messages are open. You take a second to read the new text from your friend.

‘Dude have you read this Shiggy Dabs fanfic? It made me 🤤🥵’

‘This ones similar to the last one you sent me, so be prepared⛓️😂’

Your heart sank as you saw the familiar logo of Ao3 underneath those texts.

“What were you saying about being a villain girl?” Dabi said, smirking.

“I––” You had no idea what to say.

“Aww is the Princess embarrassed” Shigaraki says teasingly.

You try to get up to leave but a hand roughly pulls you back down and you hide behind your hands refusing to look at the two villains. This was so embarrassing. What were you going to do? Now they knew that you liked them. That you were like the other people in this world that they had been disgusted by all night. They weren’t likely to just let this go. If only you could get to your room and lock the door maybe they would just leave.

“Come on don’t be shy. Are we on your depends list?”

They take your silence and continued evasion as an affirmation.

“Hmm…” You hear Dabi hum lowly. “What exactly are we dependent on? What are you looking for when you search for us?” Dabi asks, already knowing the answer.

“Come on tell us” Shigaraki coos. You shake your head. You could feel both of the boys drawing closer to you like school bullies cornering you in the bathroom, but you didn’t dare look up at them, too embarrassed. That’s when you heard typing. Your head whips up to see Dabi replying to your friend.

‘What exactly do you mean by similar?’

By the time you read what he wrote they were already responding.

‘You know 😂 the usual non-con threesome with you and dabs and shigs. Kidnapping, ropes, degradation, similar to all the other fanfics 😋 tho in this one you cum four times and each a dif way😳 ’

If your stomach dropped even more. It would have touched the ground.

“So not only are you a villain’s girl but you’re a kinky little slut too?” Dabi says chuckling. He was practically next to you staring at your frozen figure as you looked at the screen.

“I should have known when you walked out here with these cute little things poking out” He reached over and pinched your nipple tugging on the metal barbell through it. You squealed instinctually pulling away but he caught the top of your tank top effectively pulling it down revealing your breasts, each decorated with a metal piercing.

You motion to cover them, but your hands are once again forced behind your back, however this time Shigaraki had the pleasure of restraining you.

“Let go of me!” you yelped at the humiliating assault.

“I thought you liked this?” Dabi said in mock sympathy. “Just how many times have you gotten off to us?”

You were squirming trying to remove yourself from Shigaraki’s grip.

“Answer the question” Dabi said, pinching your nipple again. You yelped in pain but you could feel the slick starting to build between your legs.

“A lot okay. Now let go!”

Dabi and Shigaraki complied surprisingly. You regained your breath and pulled your tank top back up. The next few minutes passed in silence as Shigaraki took another swig of rum and Dabi continued to scroll through the different My Hero wikipedia pages. You got up still in shock taking your forgotten ice cream back to the freezer. You had lost your appetite.

What were you supposed to do now? You were still slightly scared of them after what just happened but you couldn’t ignore the arousal that had been sparked deep within you. You had dreamt of this many times. This wasn’t much different than the different fanfiction you had read, and honestly this would be on the tamer end, but that was just fiction. But were you really going to pass up this chance? How could you? Yet why’d they stop? You were surprised and honestly kinda disappointed they had now that you were standing in the kitchen. And with that you had made up your mind. You are not going to pass up this chance you could never forgive yourself.

You made your way back over to the couch but didn’t sit down. You stood in front of them silent staring at your feet, trying to figure out what you wanted to say.

“What?” Dabi said as though nothing had happened.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked timidly.

“Hmm? Because you said so.” Dabi said as though this was an obvious answer to a stupid question.

You looked at him surprised.

“Don’t believe me?” He said with a small chuckle.

When you didn’t seem to get any less anxious he continued with a sigh.

“Look Princess, I may be a bastard and sadistic villain but I don’t go wishing pain on everyone, especially ones with cute tits. Of course if they’re into that then I’m down” He said this so casually it seemed almost wrong, all while he continued to watch your computer screen. You assumed it was in part due to the alcohol, but still.

“you’re blocking the screen,” Shigaraki said annoyed.

“Was that all princess?” Dabi said mockingly

“Well….”

“What?” Shigaraki spat.

“Hurry up,” Dabi said flatly.

“What if I wanted to continue?” You said finally looking up at them. They both looked at you intently, then gave each other a look and were smiling when their eyes fell back to you.

“Our little Princess wants to live out her dirty villainous fantasies...huh?”

You nod. Wait did they just say our?

“Come on tell us what you’ve dreamt about?” Dabi says beckoning you over to him with one finger.

Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you down onto his lap so you're facing him. You look at him hesitantly biting your lip.

“You’re the expert of these little situations, Princess” he says holding his hands up for you to guide them. You take his hands slowly, unsure of your actions and guide them back to your breasts. He gives you a smirk and gives you a good squeeze, causing a small moan to escape your throat. You instinctually grind down into his lap feeling his member start to harden beneath you. You lean your head back as Dabi pulls your tank top over your head. You look over at Shigaraki who’s staring at you starting to palm himself through the sweats.

“Him too princess?” Dabi asks you, giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan all the while still staring at Shigaraki “Mmmhmmm”

This was enough for Shigaraki to slide down the couch to where the two of you were.

“Tell him where you want him, otherwise he won’t know what to do, I can’t imagine he’s done this before” Dabi encourages.

“Oh shut up” Shigaraki hisses, but he focuses back on you when you grab his hand and bring it to your neck. He insticutally keeps one finger raised, but you push that finger down with the rest deep into the side of your neck limiting the oxygen flowing to your brain, enough to give you that high. Flooded with pleasure you grind down again into Dabi feeling your underwear starting to become uncomfortably wet.

Looking into Shigaraki’s crimson eyes, you could feel them boring into you just as hungry as you felt. He leans in close, lips barely ghosting over your own. You could feel both of your breaths mixing in the millimeters between you two when Dabi gives a harsh tug to both your nipples causing you to gasp. Shigaraki seized this opportunity to violently smash your lips together. Your hand reaches into his hair, gripping for support as the initial ferver and clash of teeth dies down into long passionate tangling of tongues as you explore each other's mouth. His rough lips scratching into your’s was a sensation you’ve imagined many times but none of it lived up to reality. He nipped lightly on your bottom lip making you lean into him more.

Dabi’s hands continued their exploration of your torso, moving down your sides to your hips and around to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded them with his strong fingers. Shigaraki squeezed your neck again sending another rush of euphoria to your head making you moan into his mouth before he pulled away to attack your neck and take over teasing your breasts. You look back at Dabi with hunger in your eyes.

“What now princess? What do you want?” He says with a devilish grin.

You grind down into his cock again which is now hard as ever.

“Uh-uh. Use your words.” he says giving your ass a squeeze.

Shigaraki rolls your nipples in between his harsh fingers sending waves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, causing you to roll your head again and let out a short moan. When you look back at Dabi, you speak in a low breathy tone, almost a whisper.

“Abuse me”

With those few words, Dabi smirks and slips his hands underneath the waistband of your sweats. “As you wish”

Shigaraki continues his attack to your neck sucking and biting, leaving red and darkened patches curving down your shoulder and back. Dabi continued his groping, and you could feel the rough staples scratching at your flesh and his nails digging in harsher than before. His hands slide down the curve of your ass tugging your soiled underwear to the side.

“Hmmm you’re so wet.” Dabi said, ghosting his fingers over your dripping entrance.

“You little whore. Getting so wet for a couple of villains” You shiver at the sensitive touch and degrading words. Gripping to Shigaraki’s shirt and grinding down trying to gain friction, you notice Shigaraki palming himself again. You replace his hand with your own, wrapping your fingers around his clothed cock, squeezing lightly. Shigaraki groaned deeply in your ear, sending vibrations straight to your core while Dabi’s fingers dip slightly into your needy hole but only enough to tease more juices and whimpers out of you. You try to push down onto them only for him to retreat.

“Please...stop teasing” you whine.

“So needy Princess huh? You want my fingers in that little cunt of yours?”

“Yes. Dabi. Please” you didn't care at this point how pathetic you sounded. The pressure in your core was building and you needed to be pushed over the edge.

“Go on...make yourself cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it,” Dabi said sneering at how desperate you looked. He finally allowed two fingers to sink into you as you lowered your hips again. You were always amazed at how much deeper fingers other than your own could reach, and Dabi’s in particular could reach places you could never dream of finding on your own.

The effect was immediate. You started to roll your hips, bouncing slightly on Dabi’s fingers. You’re grip on Shigarak’s member stalls as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. Shigaraki, displeased by this fact, guides you inside his sweats, pumping himself with your hand. You could feel the precum leaking from his slit as your fingers smear it up and down his shaft. Shigaraki continued his abuse of your flesh, moving down biting and sucking till his teeth latched onto your sensitive nipple. You whine as Dabi’s other hand had found your clit. He twirled it between his fingers letting his nail drag over it. This added stimulation drove you closer sending shivers up your spine.

“Mm close” you whimper as your movements on Dabi’s fingers become sloppy.

“Come on princess. Make yourself cum, make a pretty little mess all over my fingers”

Dabi presses into your clit and you grind down hard again. Dabi wickedly curls his fingers pressing into that soft spot inside you releasing the knot of pressure that had been building in your core.Your legs shake and you clamp down hard onto his fingers which are still moving in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm.

You weakly fall forward onto Dabi’s chest as Shigaraki releases your hand from his dick. You can feel Dabi’s fingers pull out of you and when you open your eyes you see him playing with your sticky release coating his fingers. You watch as Dabi brings his fingers to his mouth, smearing some on his lip and licking it before taking them into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him.

“Princess you’re delicious” He says smiling down at you making you blush at the crude compliment.

“My turn to taste'' Shigaraki said, pulling you off Dabi’s lap. He positioned you on your back, your head resting on Dabi’s thigh. As Shigaraki did away with your sweats and underwear, you pulled Dabi’s mismatched lips to yours. The feeling was heavenly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. You tugged needily at Dabi’s shirt and he pulled it off only breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

You savored the wet and slow pace opposite to Shigaraki’s fast and rough, both pleasure in their own ways. You’re breath hitched and you moaned deeply when you felt Shigaraki’s wet tongue lick the length of your core, swiping up the sticky left overs from your previous release.

You look down at Shigaraki. He had positioned himself between your thighs, knees slumped over his shoulders. He was staring up at you licking his lips before attaching himself to your clit sucking at it harshly. You could feel that ball of pressure tighten again in your stomach and you let your head fall back to Dabi’s thigh, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of the hot wet mouth working at your sex. You’re hand threaded its way into Shigaraki’s silky blue hair, tugging lightly, only making him suck harder.

You felt Dabi’s hand on your cheek and you opened your eyes looking up into his sapphire eyes before he turned your head. You were met with Dabi’s unclothed cock. Your eyes followed the Jacobs ladder of staples up his shaft to the head where you could see a bead of precum sitting at the slit. You smile thinking how in the hell fanfic got this detail right.

“What’re you smiling at? Impressed?”

“Hmm...No piercing, huh? Guess they got that part wrong”

“You people are sick” he says chuckling before directing his dick into your mouth.

You take it gladly bobbing your head down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks before sliding back up, letting your tongue catch on each of the staples. Dabi let out a low groan, putting his hand in your hair to keep it away from your face.

You continue to work your mouth on Dabi’s cock while Shigaraki continues to swipe his tongue through your sensitive folds. You moan around Dabi’s length when Shigaraki slips a finger inside, causing you to buck your hips, pushing his tongue deeper into you.

The vibrations from your tight throat had Dabi pushing your head down taking his entire length. You gagged around his cock, choking for air but that only drove you further into your pleasure. Shigaraki added another finger and started pistoning into you violently while sucking at your clit once again. You moaned, tugging at Shigaraki’s hair, signaling you were close. You could tell Dabi was close too as he took control and started face fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust.

Shigaraki added a third finger stretching you wider and driving you over the edge for the second time as you gasped around Dabi’s cock, legs squeezing around Shigaraki. Your orgasm drove Dabi to the edge as he thrust into you again and kept your head down as your throat tightened around his length. Thick ropes of cum shot from the tip and slid down the back of your throat. You took it all swallowing until you couldn’t breathe anymore pushing Dabi away. You’re head lolled on Dabi’s lap as you recovered from your high.

Dabi was leaning back breathing deeply with his eyes closed. Your brain was still foggy but it wasn’t long until you felt something back against your sex. Looking down you see Shigaraki lining himself up with your entrance, coating his cock in your juices. Your eyes widen at seeing his length out in the open. It was not as decorated as Dabi’s but it held the same presence, being about an inch longer although not as thick as Dabi’s. Shigaraki looks up at you when he lines himself up, the tip merely resting against you, and sees your nervous expression.

“Huh didn’t think I was getting you this wet for nothing. I ain’t wasting a drop of this pussy”

He stared into your eyes as he steadily pushed into you. The stretch was almost unbearable. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make it through the burning stretch.

“Shit you’re tight. Feels like my dick is in a vice... fuuuuuck… relax” Shigaraki hissed.

You could barely register his voice let alone his request. You could barely breath focusing only on the pain as Shigaraki continued to push against your walls.

“Hey patchwork stop sleeping and get her to breathe”

Dabi shifts underneath you and you feel his hands run down your sides outlining your torso. Even though he didn’t have his quirk, his hands were hot and soothing as they rubbed against your skin.

“Come on Princess.” You open your eyes slightly to see Dabi looking down at you patronizingly.

“You’ve been doing so well,” He said brushing your jaw with the back of his hand. “And you wanna feel good right?”

You nod meekly.

Dabi leans down so his lips are hovering centimeters over yours. The smell of alcohol on his breath tantalizing and his minty scent making your head spin.

“Breathe Princess. Just focus on me” He whispers before putting his lips on yours. You melt into the kiss doing exactly what Dabi says, exhaling through your nose and focusing on the way his cold staples scratch against your skin while his soft tongue dances with your own.

When you break the kiss for air it’s only because Shigaraki has managed to bury himself to the hilt. You can feel him pressing against your cervix deep inside you. You look at him again and find him head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in the feeling of you pulsing around him. Even though you know it’s not out of consideration but pure self indulgence, you're glad that he hasn’t started moving yet as you adjust to his length. Eventually it seems the lust of needing to rearrange your insides trumped being his own personal cockwarmer. His eyes fell on you again as you pulled out till only the tip was inside before bottoming out once again. Each time slowly pulling out only to thrust back in at full force.

You were still adjusting to his length, but soon the burning sensation of being stretched and pounded turned into addicting pleasure. You resumed your kiss with Dabi whose hands had found their way to your breast as Shigaraki increased his pace. Soon you were being knocked senseless by Shigaraki’s ruthless pace. He always has been fast on screen, so why did you think he’d be any different here. Moans and gasps escaped your mouth as the tip of Shigaraki’s cock hit your cervix. Once again the pressure began to build in your core. You began to whimper as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuckkk I’m close. It’s like you're pulling me deeper. So fucking good” Shigaraki panted out falling to his hands on either side of your hips for support. You whimper again and claw at the couch cushions as you could feel yourself just on the brink when Dabi’s hand slides down your stomach and begins rubbing at your clit. You cry out and clamp down hard on Shigaraki legs shaking and eyes rolling back as Dabi’s ministrations send you through your third orgasm of the night.

You feel Shigaraki thrust once more hard and then hot thick jets of white paint your walls. You shudder at the feeling of being pumped full, your sex still milking him of everylast drop. Shigaraki finally pulls out of you and lays back on the couch catching his breath savoring the last waves of his high falling down.

You too were recuperating and limp, unable to move. Your mind was hazy from the alcohol and the relentless stimulation. You were so tired that you didn’t even care about cleaning up but rather drifting off to sleep right there. However you were jostled from these thoughts as Dabi had rolled you off his lap and onto your stomach. You could hardly keep up with his movements as he stood and walked around you. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of hands lifting your hips that you looked back to see Dabi fisting is dick that looked painfully hard. You couldn’t fathom another round right now but you were still so weak from your last high that you didn’t have time to prepare before Dabi thrusted into your already abused hole.

He sighed once he was buried inside you. He leaned down so his chest was hovering above your back the heat making your skin prickle. He leaned down till his breath could be felt on the back of your neck.

“Mhmm… ’m so close already and you’re gonna let me pump you full, aren’t you princess”

You couldn’t respond because your overly sensitive body was already reacting to Dabi's hard cock pressing into you, stretching you wider around his girth. Even though your mind was fading in and out, you involuntarily pressed your hips back to make him go deeper, seeking out the friction your body needed to overdose on.

Dabi was the exact opposite of Shigaraki. He took his time, thrusting in and out, making sure you felt every staple and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls savoring the way they pulled him in. Overstimulation caused tears to form in the corners of your eyes only soft whimpers escaping your mouth. Dabi continued slow and deliberate, letting out low breathy grunts with every thrust. On the edge once more, never fully recovering from before, you were longing to be undone one last time.

“Please Dabi” you mewl.

Dabi snickered in your ear before snaking his hand under you and pressing his fingers to your clit which was all the stimulation you needed to moan out and squeeze around Dabi who came at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around his pulsing length. You felt his seed fill you up and mix with Shigaraki’s inside you. Dabi dropped down next to you, rolling you onto your side so you were effectively spooning with his cock still inside you. You could hear movement apart from you and Dabi, and in opening your eyes you saw Shigaraki standing pulling up the sweats that were bunched at his thighs. He noticed you staring at him.

“Tch. I don’t cuddle Princess and I gotta piss” His tone was crude but laced with content from having a good fuck. “Don’t let a single drop out Dabi” Shigaraki stated before walking down the hall.

Dabi didn’t respond but seemed to have no intent on moving as you felt his member begin to soften inside you. You couldn’t be more concerned about the implications behind Shigaraki’s comment or the fact that you still had a dick inside you. You were just tired and groggy from the night's events and thankful that you were finally able to be comfortable and close your eyes. You didn’t think Dabi was really a cuddle after sex with a stranger kinda guy but you weren’t complaining. He was warm and made you feel safe despite knowing he would most likely kill you in any other context. You let your eyes close again, head falling onto Dabi’s arm, giving into the waves of exhaustion coming over you.

When Shigaraki came back from the bathroom he found you and Dabi still in the exact same position he left you in. Dabi opened his eyes when he heard Shigaraki come back into the room.

“Is she out?” Shigaraki asked.

“Think so,” Dabi said, finally pulling out of you and tugging the joggers back up to his hips. He slides out from behind you, but you don’t even realize, body only curling inwards at the loss of heat. Dabi stands and looks down at you with Shigaraki. You look so worn out and peaceful. Your body exposed for them, hickeys and bruises forming where Shigaraki ravaged your neck. Your ass is still red from the pounding, and welts forming where Dabi’s strong fingers dug into you. However the best part was probably the shine of slick spread on the inside of your thighs as a stream white cum dribbled from your used hole.

Shigaraki notices this and sits down by your feet.

“What’re you doing?”

“I told you I don’t want any of it out. Got a problem with that?”

“Nope.” Dabi said rolling his eyes and walking away. “I’ve learned to not try and figure out your sick mind”

Shigaraki looked back down at you.

“Good. I have plans for her.” Dabi rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shigaraki ran a hand up your thigh and you flexed at his touch, still unconscious. Shigaraki ran his fingers down the length of your core smearing the juices there before scooping up the stream of cum still leaking out of you and pushing it back inside you. His two fingers easily slipped into your stretched whole, but that didn’t stop a small whine from slipping from your throat. Shigaraki moved his fingers lazily in and out of you pushing the cum deeper. His eyes shot to your face when your hips bucked instinctively against him, your face was scrunched and staggered breaths and sniffs escaping your slightly parted lips, but you were still out, lost in whatever continued fantasy your fatigued brain was conjuring.

Shigaraki pushed into you a few more times selfishly pressing into the soft spot inside you that had you clamp down onto his fingers one last time. You gasped and curled further into a ball. When Shigaraki pulled his fingers out you hummed, face still scrunched, but he got up and left to the kitchen to wash off his hands.

When Dabi came back he met Shigaraki in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter.

“What do we do now?” Dabi asked casually.

“Well I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m fucking exhausted”

“Do you really think the rest of the league will be able to figure this out?”

“Kurogiri is smart enough, even if the rest of the league is useless with this sort of thing. However I am curious what this sick twisted universe has to offer us”

“Whatever you say” Dabi says walking back to the couch, and lifting you bridal style. You lean into his warmth as he carries you to your bedroom plopping you down on your bed and closing the door.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you feel your head throbbing against your skull. The bright light streaming in through your window was enough to make you want to stab the sun till it was nothing more than an ember. You closed your eyes again trying to remember the dream you were having but as you searched your brain, pieces of your dream seemed to turn into memories. You shot your eyes open and sat up. It was just a dream right? Realizing you were naked and that your skin felt sticky and dirty was enough to make your head pound harder than before. Wasn’t the fact you were hungover proof enough that last night events had taken place? No, there was still a chance you had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but you had to be sure. You sprang out of bed and pulled on some loose shorts and a shirt, impatiently throwing open the door and speeding down the hall to where the proof you needed would be.

The living room was lit by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The golden rays illuminated messy blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, an empty rum bottle, a pair of your sweats and tank top buried on the floor, but no one was there. You felt nauseous trying to piece everything together along with the aftermath of the alcohol. You rush to the sink in the kitchen and puke up the contents of your stomach. You grip the counter and close your eyes until you felt more confident in your body's ability to keep everything inside. You slowly open your eyes and look around, mind going back to what happened last night. However you get sidetracked by a bright blue sticky note sticking up from your countertop. Walking over to it you read.

“Kurogiri is a smart man. We’ll be back Princess. PS I want the blood out of my pants.”

#shigaraki #shiggy #tomura #Dabi #shigaraki x dabi #dabi x shigaraki #dabi x reader #shigaraki x dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #smut #anime #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #spicy

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pluraldeepdive · 4 years ago

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The (Communal) History of System, Multiple, & Multiplicity

Introduction

In the fields of psychology and psychiatry, the terms system, multiple, and multiplicity have been used to describe DID/OSDD patients since the beginning of these disorders’ existence. In older academic papers, this kind of terminology was actually encouraged to describe DID/OSDD in particular, especially by Ralph B. Allison, Bennett G. Braun, and Richard Kluft, who helped pioneer this sort of language within dissociative research and treatment.

Despite that, it was most likely people with DID/OSDD who brought this clinical lingo to society’s awareness. The 1980’s to 2010’s saw many publications created by people with DID/OSDD, about DID/OSDD, and usually for other people with DID/OSDD. With the introduction of the world wide web, this verbiage only increased in popularity. While that may not seem very surprising, this provides valuable insight into the early dissociative community and how it evolved over time.

Early DID/OSDD Publications

During my deep dive, I stumbled across several early publications, such as newsletters, magazines, and books created by the early DID/OSDD community. The ones below seemed to be the most noteworthy because they were often mentioned in the archives I looked at. I will also be sharing an excerpt from each work to demonstrate what early community lingo was like.

When Rabbit Howls (1987): Truddi Chase’s “When Rabbit Howls” is an autobiography on her personal experiences with DID and surviving childhood abuse. This was one of the first few publications by a person with DID that did not push for unification (complete integration of all alters). You can find it on Amazon here.

(TW for abuse) p. 140

“When Putnam was researching schizophrenia, he discovered that the term didn’t fit all the patients he encountered. That led him to research the multiple personality cases recorded since the early 1800s. His final documented conclusion was that ninety-eight percent of the multiples on record involved repeated and severe incidents of child sexual and physical abuse. Incest seems to head the list, culprit-wise. For better or for worse, multiplicity may not be as rare as we think--only misdiagnosed..”

Many Voices (1989-2012): One of the oldest and longest running publications I could find was the DID/OSDD newsletter called Many Voices that ran from 1989 to 2012. This newsletter became such a hit that it eventually became a non-profit and is now owned by the ISSTD. According to the wishes of the founder of Many Voices, who has sadly passed away, the magazines are now freely available and you can read them here.

If you don’t mind discourse, I also highly recommend checking out @justanothersyscourse who occasionally shares memorable parts of the magazines.

What is a “true” multiple? (Many Voices, October 1989)

“I cringe when I hear people (therapists, clients, or lay-people) use the term ‘true’ multiple. What does that mean? If it means ‘SALS-She Ain’t Like Sybil,’ or ‘SALE-She Ain’t Like Eve’ (to quote the eminent Dr. Kluft,) then one could (and would) quite easily overlook or misdiagnose the majority of MPD patients. Again, to quote Dr. Kluft, only 3% to 4% of the MPD population flagrantly presents the symptoms of their MPD. The rest (if they’re even aware of being MPD) work very hard to hide it.

It is true that some multiples are more ‘split’ or separate than others. […] I believe that MPD lies on a continuum. The more severe and violent the abuse, […] the more separate and complex the system[…] Other factors which I feel influence the numbers of alters and the functionality of the system are 1) the personality or temperament of the family the MPD individual was born into and 2) the innate strength or weakness of each individual.”

Multiple Personality Gift (1991): While not a newsletter, a MPD/DID workbook called Multiple Personality Gift by Jacklyn Pia was published in September 1991. Back then, several diagnosed individuals choose to see their DID as a gift because it was what helped them survive childhood abuse. Jacklyn Pia, a ritual abuse survivor, described DID as a gift because they felt like it saved their life. You can read an archive of the book here.

Am I A Multiple? (Multiple Personality Gift, September 1991)

“Because a multiple has the presence of two or more distinct and recognizable personalities within, a variety of inside and outside happenings are present in his/her life that are not present in the lives of ‘singletons’ (a non-multiple person). […] In the following paragraph, are a number of inside and outside happenings commonly reported by people with the gift of multiplicity.”

Divided Hearts Newsletter (1996-?): Another older newsletter I found began publication in 1996 by a DID support website & forum called Divided Hearts. You can read the archived list here.

Some Facts about MPD/DID (Divided Hearts, September 1996)

“A multiple may have as few as two and as many as hundreds of personalities. The average number of alter personalities in a multiple is 8-13, although super-multiples may have more than 100 alternates.”

Collective Consciousness (?-1997) & Rainbow’s End (1998-Now): Collective Consciousness was a DID magazine but I’m unsure how long it ran for. I could not find much information on it. In July 1997, it ceased publication but was luckily picked back up by some folks who later formed the DID non-profit organization, First Person Plural. The new newsletter would be called “The First Person Plural Newsletter” up until 2002, when it was renamed to “Rainbow’s End.”

Rainbow’s End started in 1998 and is still running in present day. It’s freely available and you can read the magazines here.

A note on terminology (Rainbow End, April 1998)

“Multiplicity; Multiple Personality Disorder; Dissociative Identity Disorder; MPD; DID; DDNOS; Multie; Dissociator; Multiple Personality Gift; Host; Core; System; Alters; Parts; Ego States; Switching; Fusion; Integration; Out Front; Gone Deep; Co-conscious; In the background … etc etc

The language used to describe the dissociative experience is various and individualistic. First Person Plural retains the terms preferred by each contributor. Consequently throughout the newsletter different terms may be used for similar concepts.”

First Person Plural: My Life as a Multiple (1999): An autobiographical book written by Cameron West about his personal experiences with DID. You can look at the Wikipedia page for the book here. Cameron West’s website can also be found here. (I have not read the book so I can’t give any quotes but I think the title speaks for itself.)

Myths & Corroborating Evidence

Ever since I joined the dissociative community online, I have seen many, many myths floating around regarding these particular terms and their relation to dissociative disorders. The three myths I want to address are:

Myth #1 -- System, multiple, and multiplicity have no significance to the DID/OSDD community.

Myth #2 -- These terms were popularized by non-dissociative plurality groups (such as endogenic, natural, etc.) instead of the DID/OSDD community.

Myth #3 -- These terms were created by non-dissociative plurality groups.

Obviously, from the publications listed above (which is not an exhaustive list!), we know that myth #1 is just not true at all. Myth #2 & #3 can be fact-checked by this as well. The intermixing of DID/OSDD concepts with non-dissociative concepts emerged more in the late 1990s on the Internet, and it was certainly not very widespread at first. More information can be viewed here. And also here!

During my deep dive, I found that even the earliest online speakers on non-dissociative plurality, such as Astraea’s Web, have corroborated that system, multiple, and multiplicity originated from early DID/OSDD academia and publications. These publications can also be found all over archives of these earlier websites, too. Here are some archives that show that.

#there will be another post that covers the clinical history later #syscourse #actuallydid #actuallytraumagenic #dissociative identity disorder #actuallydissociative #abuse tw

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ineffable-snowman · 4 years ago

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(apologies in advance to the people who followed me for Good Omens. I’m diving headfirst into a new fandom, so I’m afraid there’s going to be a lot of Sambucky in the next three weeks at least...)

I wrote a fic inspired by episode 3 of FATWS. Read it here or on AO3.

Trouble Man

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.”

What kind of passive-aggressive bullshit was that? It was annoying enough that Zemo insisted on calling him ‘James’ in that patronising way of his but now he tried to lecture him or rather tried to make him look stupid, uncultured and ignorant. Bucky wanted to laugh at Zemo’s comment that sounded more like he was quoting a Wikipedia article to appear sophisticated, but then Sam spoke up.

“He is out of line – but he is right.”

Fuck Zemo. Seriously, Bucky had enough reason to hate Zemo but this was on another level. This was personal. He made Bucky look stupid, uncultured and ignorant in front of Sam. And the thing was, he was mostly ignorant about Marvin Gaye. He had listened to some of the tracks from Trouble Man just because they were on Steve’s list, and had quickly decided that it was not his kind of music. Now he wished he had at least listened to the whole album so he could contribute more than a weak “I like Marvin Gaye”, which fooled absolutely no one. He had no idea how a simple conversation about music had escalated like this. It had seemed like perfectly normal banter, Sam making fun of him for being old-fashioned, and then Zemo had interfered with that comment and it was downhill from there.

For some reason Sam was very passionate about Marvin Gaye and Bucky was intent on finding out why. Also, he needed to find out how music could be “complete, comprehensive” and “capture the African-American experience.” In his experience, music was used for dancing and for fun and that’s all there was to it. He stared at the notebook. There was some really good advice in it, like Thai food or Star Wars. So far, Bucky had not seen the appeal of Marvin Gaye. But apparently Steve had. If Steve had adored the music so much, why had he just simply crossed it out in a neat line and not, for example, put an exclamation mark behind it? Bucky added two exclamation marks.

Right, how to do this? Not for the first time he regretted just getting a simple flip phone instead of one of those fancy smartphones. When the shop assistant had told him that he needed a phone for taking photos and listening to music, Bucky had almost laughed at him. Talking about stupid… He could really use Youtube or Google now.

“Do you have a computer with internet?” he asked Sharon.

She looked at him like he was stupid (it was becoming a theme) but showed him to a computer and even gave him earphones. Then he started to listen to Trouble Man and this time did not skip any tracks but listened to the whole songs. He also googled the lyrics but that did not leave him any the wiser. Doctor Raynor would probably tell him to use his goddamn mouth and just ask someone, for heaven’s sake. He would rather get frozen again than ask Zemo. But it also felt extremely wrong that Zemo, who was supposed to be one of the bad guys, seemed to know and understand Sam better than Bucky, who was supposed to be Sam’s…whatever. Were they friends? Bucky certainly considered Sam a friend (although he never would say it out oud), probably the only friend he had left. Someone who texted you and asked you how you were and invited you to lunch was a friend, right? Someone who even saved your ass and (repeatedly) broke the law for you was a very good friend. But did Sam consider someone his friend who did not text back, who repeatedly got him into trouble, kept things from him and had even tried to kill him? Bucky stared at the screen. It was a miracle Sam had not tried to kill him yet. It was even more of a miracle that he was still being nice (sometimes). He googled “Trouble Man” and “African-American experience”. To his disappointment, it was not a quote from a Wikipedia article. So Zemo knew what was going on and Bucky did not. He turned up the volume and tried to make sense of the lyrics (“Got me singin' – yeah, yeah – Hoo“).

“Finally doing some catching up on the good stuff?”

Bucky turned around so quickly that the earphones were ripped out of his ears. Sam had put up his hands in defence and was babbling something about attacking or not attacking or whatever.

“Jesus.” Bucky consciously unclenched his left fist. “Couldn’t you just knock?”

“I did. You didn’t answer.” Sam pointed at the screen where the Youtube video of Trouble Man was still running. “I knew it,” he said gleefully. “You have no idea who Marvin Gaye is.”

“I do!” Bucky protested but then trailed off because he may have heard some of Gaye’s songs but he still did not know who Marvin Gaye was.

“So.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think? Honestly.”

Bucky looked from Sam to the screen to the dangling earphones. I like it was not an appropriate answer. Not an honest one. “I don’t get it,” he finally said.

“No appreciation for good music.” Sam sighed dramatically. “Hopeless. Stuck in the 40s forever.”

Bucky could have left it at that. They were on common ground again, bickering but not hurting each other, it felt familiar, safe. “No,” he said nevertheless. “I – how? How is this music – how does it…capture the African-American experience? Most of the songs don’t even have lyrics.”

“You don’t need lyrics for music to be meaningful.”

“How? Is it because people listen to it in certain situations or…?”

“Alright. Ready for a lesson on 20th century music? You better take notes.”

Bucky opened the notebook and took a pen. Then he noticed Sam’s grin. Right, he hadn’t meant it literally. But now Bucky had already opened the notebook and he was determined to go through with it. So he wrote down all the names Sam dropped, the musical genres and important songs. It was a lot and, as a lot of things, it confused Bucky but he just rolled with it. So some bands destroyed instruments on stage and certain music apparently had a soul? Great. Speaking of souls, this was probably the right time for some soul-gazing to show Sam that he was actively listening. (Doctor Raynor would be so proud of him.) Sam kept bringing up the soul thing several more times until finally Bucky could not keep quiet any longer.

“What’s with this soul music? Is it, like…music for funerals?”

Sam stared at him. Bucky stared back.

“Okay, scoot over.” Sam squeezed on the chair next to Bucky so Bucky almost fell over on the other side. Then he reached over Bucky to grab the mouse, opened another tab and chose a Youtube video for Bucky to listen to. “This is soul music.”

It was highly uncomfortable because the chair was not made for two people and they both weren’t exactly small but Bucky was resolved to stay on the chair, at least with one thigh. Sam chose video after video, pointed out characteristic musical features, quoted parts of the lyrics and talked about the history or the significance the songs. It was still a lot and Bucky still did not get everything but he dutifully took notes to look up some things in detail later. When he had filled the sixth page in his notebook, Sam stopped the music lesson.

“So, 40s music. Any recommendations?”

Bucky turned to face him. They were awfully close. Sam’s eyes were somehow very soft, there was the hint of a smile on his lips and he looked very huggable in that thin turtleneck – and he looked genuinely interested in Bucky’s answer. Bucky felt hot shame flooding him. Sam could be aggravating and an outright asshole but he was too kind for this world. Too kind to Bucky.

“Nah,” he mumbled. “Music in the 40s was just for dancing, for fun. Not…not important like your music.”

“Oh, you can dance just fine to my music,” Sam said in mock outrage. “Come on.” He elbowed Bucky out of the chair and chose another Youtube video, then stood up, too.

“Soul music?” Bucky guessed when the first chords of an electric guitar could be heard.

“Funk. Close enough.”

Sam started to move to the music. It should be ridiculous, the weird moves he was doing, because that certainly wasn’t proper dancing, not the dancing Bucky knew anyway – no rehearsed dancing steps, more like a spontaneous swaying to the music and some of the moves were definitely ridiculous but Sam made them look, well, smooth.

“See, that’s dance music, too,” Sam said and came to stand in front of Bucky.

Bucky had no idea why it was even called dancing but he wasn’t going to say that because he did not want to offend Sam again.

But of course Sam had to nag him. “Spit it out.”

“What?”

“I can see the cyborg gears turning. What’s wrong with dancing?”

“Nothing. Just not what I’m used to.”

“You can choose the next song. For now – get those hips moving.” He nudged Bucky, and how could Bucky say no? After Sam had spent all that time educating him and only mildly making fun of him for his ignorance, he owed it to him.

“This is ridiculous, I feel ridiculous,” Bucky complained when he tried to copy some of Sam’s moves.

“You’re doing great,” Sam said but he was grinning, clearly enjoying how Bucky was making a fool of himself. “Maybe tone down the staring a bit.”

Well, if it made Sam happy… Bucky decided to give it his all and moved wildly to the rhythm, not caring if it could be called “dancing” or not. Nonetheless, he was a little relieved when the song was over.

“Your turn.” Sam indicated the computer.

Bucky had no idea which song to pick. He tentatively typed “Billie Holiday” into the search bar.

“Seriously?” Sam came up behind him. “You know Billie Holiday and say you don’t understand how music can capture the African-American experience?”

It was like a punch in the face. A well-deserved punch probably. “I mostly saw her as the singer of love songs, for slow dancing,” he admitted. “Never really…thought much about it.”

“So what, you’re going to slow dance with me, Barnes?” It wasn’t the usual good-natured banter but sounded more like an accusation.

“Look, Sam, I…” Bucky rubbed his temples. “Let’s head downstairs to that party to…” hopefully not dance. Whatever. Get out of this situation where, he feared, he was breaking rule #2 again.

“No, let’s do this.” Sam clicked on the first link and a swing tune started to play, Me, Myself and I. “Let’s slow dance if that’s what you do.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

It was certainly the most aggressive ask for a dance he had ever received. And he had never been this stiff during a dance before. He used to be a good dancer back in the days but now he felt clumsy when he placed his hand on Sam’s back while trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

They had not even made eight uncoordinated steps when Sam started to speak. “Would it hurt you to use that brain of yours once in a while? It’s supposed to be working properly again, isn’t it? That’s what I heard at least.”

Doctor Raynor’s words came back to him, that he was free. To do what? Certainly to do better than hurt the man who had always had his back without Bucky ever having done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unconsciously tightening his grip on Sam’s back.

“What for?”

Everything. “For being…kind of… thoughtless, I guess.”

Being so close, he could actually feel Sam exhale. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“For being a huge dick,” Bucky offered.

“Better,” Sam grumbled. “Now, was that so hard?”

Bucky took a step back to gauge Sam’s reaction. He was relieved to find no traces of hurt or betrayal in Sam’s eyes, just the usual exasperation he put on when looking at Bucky. “Yes. Physically painful,” he tentatively tested the water. It was like a dance, back and forth, seeing how far you could get.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I hate you. And please stop staring.”

Bucky shrugged and pulled Sam close again, in fact, so close that he did not have to look into Sam’s eyes anymore but was now staring at his left shoulder. Sam was visibly relaxing in Bucky’s arms and wasn’t that a miracle, that he was still in Bucky’s arms, still allowed Bucky to hold him?

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbled into Sam’s shoulder.

“What for?”

Everything. Bucky tightened his hold on Sam (and silently thanked the autoplay function that started the next song because he was in no way ready to let go of Sam yet). “I’m a mess and you don’t deserve all that shit I throw at you.”

“Mm. You’re welcome.” Sam squeezed his shoulder, like a reassurance that he would continue to put up with all of Bucky’s bullshit. Too damn kind for this world. Good thing he had Bucky on his side who was going to beat up everyone who so much as tried to exploit Sam’s kindness. (Yes, he knew he was being hypocritical and should technically start with beating up himself.)

“Sharon was wrong,” Bucky said. “I’m not obsessed with the whole stars and stripes stuff. I didn’t follow Steve because he had that shield. And I’m – well, you might’ve noticed I’m here and not following that – that asshole. Sam, I think you should take the shield but, with or without the shield, I’ll follow you. Just so you know.”

Sam was silent for quite some time, they were just swaying gently to the music, until Bucky heard close to his ear, “That a threat, Buck?” He could almost sense the smile against his cheek.

“Just a fact. And I hate you too, by the way.”

#non good omens #sambucky #my writing #fanfic

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psalm22-6 · 3 years ago

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How Raymond Bernard conceived of Les Misérables (1934)

Above image: Director Raymond Bernard, composer Arthur Honegger, and conductor Maurice Jaubert (who is the person between Bernard and Honegger? I’m afraid) Source: L’Image, January 1st 1933

On english wikipedia it says that the 1934 adaptation is one of the most well regarded adaptations. Is that true? I don’t know (haven’t seen it) but this article gives an interesting look into how the director approached adapting it. Also just the style of the journalist is kind of funny, like he sets out to talk to Bernard about one film and then just decides to change the topic of his interview to something that Bernard says he doesn’t want to talk about? But then he does talk about it at length? I like the part when he says that sometimes when reading Hugo it’s really boring for a couple of pages until you find something poetic.

I was a bit nervous going to see Raymond Bernard. One always has to “have an idea in advance,” to assign a neatly categorical human “type” to the person one is going to encounter, which is as rudimentary as an Epinal print [proverbially, naïve]: an actress is a capricious being, too pretty, snobbish, birdbrained, crying softly [?] … a writer, a writer is a serious and distant being, immobile behind a desk covered in papers, his finger to his temple, with a lost look. Finally, a director is a type of ogre, with a loud mouth and strong shoulders, always wearing shirt-sleeves, with a mean air, who will shoot importunate little people, like myself, with a terrible look!

Oh how untrue, how ridiculous all that is and how much more realistic it would be to say that one is going to see exceptional people, to be sure, but they are simply being themselves, they are simply welcoming…

That is how Raymond appeared to me. He did not appear (forgive me!) “with a loud mouth and strong shoulders” but smiling and slender, speaking with a soft, restrained voice…and modest, certainly very modest!

And here I was, proposing to speak to him about Les Croix de Bois [1932 film by Bernard set during WWI, featuring Gabriel Gabrio who was JvJ in LM1925], that tremendous film, the most complete, the most humane, the most beautiful film that has been made about that war, to tell him how much I had admired it, and more, how it had moved me.

“Do you want me to talk to you about Misérables?” Raymond Bernard asked me softly. “I don’t really know what I could tell you. For me, it’s finished, it’s in the past.”

After hearing that, how could I return to the subject of Les Croix de Bois? I didn’t dare, fearing vaguely that I would bore him.

“I’m listening all the same,” I said.

So he began to speak to me of German cinema. “It’s much less good than you would think. Most of the films that I was able to see there were extremely trite. What you can see here is the cream of the crop.” Then he moved on to Russian cinema, which he admires a lot and finally, to Hollywood.

“Would you like to go there and use their methods?”

“That would horrify me. Over there, I can see it, one is only worth how much money one can bring in…there is no more personality. It is abolished! Men, like Lubitsch, who succeeded in establishing themselves, you must think of the humiliations that they had to forcibly submit to, to the baseness they had to endure in order to ascend, little by little…that takes a special knack, independent of talent, which not everyone has. Over there, you are just a grain of sand…”

“Did you want to tell me about Misérables?”

“Les Misérables, that magnificent work with a magnificent title, was not, evidently, conceived of for the cinema. The first and very important problem was to give it a form which was in itself cinematographic, to make it into a “filmable” work before making it into a filmed work, in other words to give it a skeleton.”

But it’s too much. Raymond Bernard had said too much about himself, about his work. It was more than he could stand for. He threw himself into a glowing eulogy on Victor Hugo, who he admires even more now that he has studied him.

“And yet,” I sigh, “these days he is disdained.”

“That is because people don’t read him anymore! Writing for him did not exist, I dare to say. The words sprang forth from his brain…and with what power of imagery! I enjoyed myself in recreating the spark of the revolution of 1932, the way that he described it: there is a luxury of chaos, of color, of movement, overwhelming really! I compared his writing to that of a historian, de Blanc: it’s the same but his is grave, serious, finely painted, colorless…Hugo was a visionary, he wrote in abundance, an uncontrolled abundance… We often had to abandon, not without regret important pieces…what Andre Lang and myself called ‘the parenthesis.’”

“Take, for example, the history of the sewers of Paris! A prodigious documentation of the sewers as they were in the last century. Myself, I do not even know how they are now! And well, Hugo, he really knew them at his time! Likewise, on the subject of the convent de Picpus, he gives us the complete history of convents in France! What a man! How did he do it to write, to write still more, and to amass such a sum of readings, of documents! It’s almost unbelievable, and yet, see, I was thinking of adapting l’Homme Que Rit…I was astounded to see the extent of his knowledge about the navy!”

“A giant, he was a giant…and yet, the poet never disappeared. It is deeply moving to fall, sometimes after a few pages which are a bit boring, on a few lines of authentic poetry…” Raymond Bernard is dreaming, searching for words. “No, it’s more than that…how can I say it? Poetic, lyrical inspiration… In the film, it was a question of not forgetting the side of poetic inspiration…”

While he is speaking, I look at him. His young face is creased, his gaze, which is very soft, wanders ceaselessly, the gaze of a dreamer, a seeker. And he smiles often, very often, like when he tells me: “Everything that I was telling you there, what can that do for you? It has no great importance!” He even apologizes for being talkative and I, I am thrilled to listen to him!

“To make a film,” he continues, “there are two methods: to be or not to be faithful to the text. Me, I think that in the very interest of the author, you must be unfaithful. You shouldn't be afraid of slipping away in order to re-establish the core idea…Besides, we have to limit ourselves to time.”

“We adopted a structure of three films. The first film we gave the title of the first chapter of Misérables: A storm beneath a skull, which summarizes well enough the spirit of the work.”

“Yes, yes the principal problem is that of pruning (how do you not prune a work that is so bushy?) then you must recast the novel in this mold…that is what is most complicated: to create the skeleton, the framework, to make the work suffer in order to restore it finally to the spectator, with more fidelity than if we had held vulgarly to the text word for word. To do it world for word, what a treason! Look at that literal adaptation of Hamlet by Marcel Schwob, presented in the French of the 16th century, that was shown at the Comédie-Française! What a mistake that was! Don’t you think that with the simple words of today one can give a more precise and faithful translation of the text? Myself, I am entirely in favor of a great reworking of the text, especially when you want it on the screen. After that it remains to you to find a ‘cinematographic writing’ that serves the author in the most faithful manner.”

“Explain yourself…”

“Just as words and phrases are adapted. Almost unconsciously, to the era that they are trying to paint, in the same way you must create a ‘style of image.’ You can’t photograph scenes with the same life as there was in 1830, as you are photographing scenes from the present day. All this must be studying, created…with Victor Hugo this is relatively easy. He was such a visionary! He is a collaborator who will not let you fall! Even his dialog has a simplicity, a truthfulness! We don’t realize it enough!”

“There is even in this work a humorous side that is absolutely remarkable! Some of his characters are created so picturesquely, with an allure that is almost caricature, incredible!”

“Once you find it, create (without ostentation as much as possible evidently, since that is the enemy of goodness!) the “cinematographic expression,’ that is how the battle begins: the manuscript is finished, but the film is untouched! You must make the film! Now you must be stubborn, head strong…persuasive…”

[...]

He also told me about the extras, the electricians, the makeup technicians, who are true artists, he exclaims, who sometimes have a hundred times more talent than the stars who are idolized, because they have never become conscious of their value, remaining simple and sincere in exercising their artistry.

I am going to take my leave.

“Would you mind,” I supplicate, “giving me a photo, for the readers of Image magazine?”

Raymond Bernard puts his hand on his chin: “Well it’s just that I don’t have a photo,” he admits to me. “And also, the readers of Image have seen it so often that they must be tired of it!”

A director who doesn’t have a photo of himself on his person? What do you think?

#LM 1934 #les miserables #my translation

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mikasaluna · 4 years ago

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生きていたんだよな

⚠ WARNINGS：potentionally triggering content ! graphic suicide descriptions ! self harm ! dark content !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY.

「 Keep in mind your triggers and do not engage if it will provoke negative emotions. You are responsible for your own actions. 」

♥️

notes：gender neutral pronouns, angst, fluff (kind of?), 1,640 words

If you need help I recommend posting on r/suicidewatch or searching for your area’s local suicide helpline using ctrl+f on the following wikipedia page.

♥️

A/N：Also, I didn’t realise until now as I’m writing the tags, that most people spell Kuroo’s first name as “Tetsuro” without the “u”. I wrote it differently because that’s just the direct Japanese spelling and I didn’t know. Sorry about that.

Haikyuu!! / ハイキュー!!

Kuroo Tetsurou 黒尾鉄朗

Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. You repeated the radicles to yourself as you wrote out the character over and over, feeling the muscle memory in your wrist kicking into gear. Your head was throbbing, hundreds of kanji readings swimming around in your mind. Now more than ever, the pressure of growing up had began to weigh down on you like a pile of bricks. Trying to make sense of all the pre-set rules in your life was difficult enough as it was, but just trying was never good enough. Nothing ever was. For every happy person in the world, there had to be an opposite, there had to be a person like you. It was pathetic. You were so damn pathetic.

Your relationship with your mother, who’d left Japan to raise you all on her own, was hanging by threads. Could you really blame her though? Your grades had been falling steadily over the semester, and the scholarship which you’d worked so hard for was slipping through your fingers. You’d given up on yourself, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given up on you too. The things that used to be so easy, laughing together at your little wooden dining table, became so far away, every night like a video tape stuck on repeat.

一体何を思ってるんだろう！バカの？

“What the hell are you thinking! Are you stupid?”

Why should you care? Maybe things would be easier if you just let your life fall to pieces. Maybe once you had nothing left to hold on to, you could finally break free. Maybe all this time, all you ever were was stupid.

わかんない。

“I don’t know.”

You were lying through your teeth. Of course you knew. You were stupid for ever believing in all the things that made your life worth living, because they didn’t mean a thing at all. Locking yourself in your room, like you always did, isolating yourself. Too craven to face your problems, too tired to care. I can’t do this anymore. You’d been wandering through life aimlessly for so long. Searching for something, anything; waiting for that reason to come into your life, like every other person was insistent it would. Forcing yourself through each and every day, waiting and waiting; but it was time you realised, that reason never really existed at all. It was just another lie people told themselves, to try and make sense of their own existence. You were sure they knew as well as you did now, somewhere deep in their hearts, that their lives, your life, was just another figure on the chart. Another meaningless statistic. Your thoughts were racing, clogging up your brain and threatening to spew out of your mouth. You pulled your diary out from under your pillow;

’Thursday, 24th of December’

「Today’s a special day, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’ll be around for Christmas this year, that’s okay, it was never really my thing anyway.

お母さん、ごめんなさい。いま、離れなくちゃダメだ。　　」

“Okaa-san, I’m sorry. I have to leave you now.”

With that, you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been thinking about this day longer than you could bear, drafting your final words over and over in your head. But when it came down to it, was there really a right thing to say?

Grabbing your grey hoodie, you plugged some headphones into your i-pod. You’d figured that leaving your phone behind was a better idea, it meant that no one could call or track you. You’d do it right, and this time you’d make sure not to wake up ever again. Reaching the pavement outside, you began moving along you streets. You walked slowly, taking the time to look along the streets one last time. It was almost nostalgic, dream-like in a sense. The urban road you grew up which you had never payed much mind, was calming. For once in a long time, you felt truly at peace.

There was a parking building nearby, one which your Okaa-san often parked in. It was tall and old, reaching 7 storeys into the sky, surrounded below by solid, grey asphalt. This was it. In the elevator ride to the top floor your heart was beating hard in your chest, thoughts so loud you thought they’d grow out of your mind and become real. You couldn’t allow yourself to look back now.

Standing by the ledge of the building, you looked out over the city, and wondered if anybody could see you up there. What would they think of you, somebody who’d throw their life away so easily? Hitting play on your i-pod, 生きていたんだよな (ikiteitandayona) by あいみょん (aimyon) began to play. The lyrics were tragic and bittersweet, but the rhythm made your adrenaline pump. You teetered even closer to the building’s edge, legs wobbling. The height made you feel dizzy as you peered down off the drop, and all the way down to the pavement below. But not for a second did you feel scared.

冷たいアスファルトに流れるあの血

♩ ‘On the cold asphalt, their blood flows.’

赤さが綺麗で綺麗で

♩ ‘That red is beautiful, beautiful.’

How long would you fall? You thought, sitting down and swinging your legs over the side of the building. You almost wanted to laugh. It reminded you of all those times you had snuck onto the school roof with your classmate in high school, what was his name again? Kuroo? Right, Kuroo Tetsurou. On the last week of school while you were skipping last period maths together, you had convinced him to smoke a joint with you right there on the roof. Those were the final memories you had ever made together, since you’d each left for different universities. Why were you thinking of him now, of all times?

最後のサヨナラは他の誰でもなく

♩ ‘Their last goodbye,'

Standing up, you leaned back and looking out over the view, one last time.

自分に叫んだんだろう

♩ ‘screamed to nobody but themself.’

You took a breath in, deep enough to feel your lungs burn. Tears stung at your eyes, but you bit them back and closed your eyes. Part of you wished you could fix this all, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t have the energy to try and make things better.

鳥になって雲をつかんで

♩ ‘becoming a bird and grabbing the clouds’

Shuffling your toes over the edge, you had made the decision in your head.

風になって

♩ ‘becoming the wind...’

Your muscles relaxed, and you allowed yourself to fall off of the edge.

“WAIT-!” You heard a scream for a split second, a hand grabbing hopelessly at the back of your hoodie as you began to descend. It was too late now. The wind in your ears blocked out the voice yelling from above, muffling the sound. It was strangely tranquil here, floating down off the the 7th floor, the clearest your head had felt in months. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was this the right choice?

Finally, the concrete embraced you as your body slammed into the ground.

[This artwork does not belong to me. I saved it to my laptop a long time ago and now I can’t find the source, if you know the artist please send me a message so I can credit properly.]

________________________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open and bright white light flooded your vision.

Where the hell am I?

Everything hurt. Your head was pounding and your mind was fuzzy. Cotton sheets lay underneath your aching body and a mess of black hair lay beside you. Someone was sitting on a chair next to the bed, his cheek resting on your arm, shoulders rising and falling slowly in his sleep.

“Tetsurou?” Your voice came out broken and hoarse.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes red and swollen, had he been crying?

“W-where am I?”

“We’re in the hospital,” he said shakily “the firefighters caught you when you fell.”

The memories came flooding back. That’s right, you jumped. So, that wasn’t the ground you felt back then? Your head was filled with questions, but you weren’t sure where to start. He probably thought you were pathetic too, but part of you was just so happy. Happy you were alive to see him again. Kuroo had to be the only friend who ever really understood you and your stupid humor, having him there reminded you of that. Maybe it had impacted you more than you realised, not having a single person at uni who really got you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered quietly from beside you.

“Tell you what, Tetsurou?” You looked over, sitting up steadily. His eyes were filled with pain.

“I was so scared, why didn’t you tell me what was going on!” Kuroo covered his face with his hand, but you could still see the tears falling onto his lap as he spoke. “I-I love you, you know that right? I still love you, and I would do anything... so why the hell didn’t you come talk to me!” His confession was broken and hurt, but it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t even understand it yourself, why you felt like this.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m pathetic, I don’t have any other reason.” It was true. Compared to most people, your life was easy. You had a family, a home, friends, education. What reason did you really have? To try to end your life, to be unhappy at all.

“I don’t care about that, just please... don’t leave me again.” It was the first time you’d ever heard Kuroo being so serious, and it almost scared you. Tears were stinging in your eyes at his words. You felt his big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a safe, warm hug as your tears stained his shirt. Were you really so oblivious that you never realised how he felt about you?

“O-okay... and, Tetsurou?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #kuroo x reader angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsuro x reader angst #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo tetsuro drabble #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro imagine

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stupid-stew · 4 years ago

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My Obsession With Character Names Pays Off Right Here Right Now

I have literally never posted here but I decided that since I spent today writing about the the name of the characters in The Owl House instead of prepping for finals, someone should see it. Included are Lilith, Eda, Luz, King, Gus, Willow, Amity, Alador, Odalia, Emira, Edric, Belos, Adegast, Kikimora, last names Blight, Noceda, Clawthorne, Park, Porter, and Bump, and briefly Hooty, Owlbert, Hieronymus, and Boscha.

FIRST NAME

LILITH

Ok so because I'm lilith’s bitch we are gonna start with her because her name is so cool and I love her and we should be besties Lilith hmu. Anyways as most people know Lilith is a pre existing mythological character which makes this very much good because that means it’s all outlined. Most people know her as a demonic figure, which I very much dig but similar to our lovely queen of curses out here, that's not all she is. There isn’t going to be a chronological explanation of similarities and conclusions, cope. The basic gist is that Lilith was this chick with fiery red hair (this is important iykyk) who refused to be beneath or below adam, more specifically to subjugate to him, funny because of the tapestry with belos what says subjugation on it, probably a coincidence but I do not believe in coincidence right now. Anyways basically she runs off and becomes this chick who like snatches children and will make them sick if they don’t have an amulet with the names Senoy, Sansenoy, or Semangelof on them, thats a different story but what I find interesting is this one passage,

“(12) Her nobles shall be no more, nor shall kings be proclaimed there; all her princes are gone. (13) Her castles shall be overgrown with thorns, her fortresses with thistles and briers. She shall become an abode for jackals and a haunt for ostriches. (14) Wildcats shall meet with desert beasts, satyrs shall call to one another; There shall the Lilith repose, and find for herself a place to rest. (15) There the hoot owl shall nest and lay eggs, hatch them out and gather them in her shadow; There shall the kites assemble, none shall be missing its mate. (16) Look in the book of the LORD and read: No one of these shall be lacking, For the mouth of the LORD has ordered it, and His spirit shall gather them there. (17) It is He who casts the lot for them, and with His hands He marks off their shares of her; They shall possess her forever, and dwell there from generation to generation.”

And there are separate part of this that I find relevant, especially the description of the location, i’m not all that familiar with symbolism of animals in religious texts, so i’m gonna take it at face value and say that this is more or less a description that could be given to the physical owl house itself, sort of a place for people who don’t fit in, its a little messy and I guess one could say overgrown, but it’s a place for anyone, a place to rest now hopefully for Lilith away from the coven, there shall the Lilith repose. On top of that we see the “the hoot owl…” and you’re probably thinking what that so crazy wacko because like why are they referring to Lilith as the hoot owl isn't Eda the owl lady, yes she is. That’s why the actual meanings of lilith’s name that come from her mythological depiction as a demon lady are so important. We have night monster, night owl, night spectre, vampires, night hag, night creature, nightjar (which is another kind of bird), and night bird, all of these seem to fit lilith’s dark aesthetic very nicely which is very good for her, but there are two other ones, hot owl and screech owl, which draw her closer to Edaand away from the coven and her depiction in the mid-later episodes of the show as a monster for cursing eda, but also the name night monster could come into play if while sharing the curse Lilith acquired some of its traits, similar to Edaas the owl beast. Ultimately, we have this little red head girl who eventually fights back against the men who are attempting to get her to be under them, for the character that is belos, for the other Lilith that is adam, god, and his angels, and now hopefully both of them will find solace and repose among the owls in a place they never thought they’d belong. All this talk of owls and god brings us into the other clawthorne baddie:

EDA

For this I'm going to use her full name edalyn, because you know like that’s just how it be it is her name. There isn’t a wiki page for her name like there is for Lilith which makes this a little bit harder but the general consensus seems to be that it means something along the lines of “gift of god”, which I find very interesting. If you are going to name a child gift of god i’m assuming that you are referring to the child themselves, but I don’t think that really applies to eda. I’m not religious, but its my impression that someone who lies cheats pranks and steals their way to the top and isn’t exactly the most responsible witch on the isles might not be the best gift god could give. I do really love Eda though, her character flaws are still a part of her character, but I think this refers to her powers. Eda considers herself to be the boiling isles gift to magic, which I mean like, have you seen the woman. In agony of a witch we see her at what probably 30% of her power with how much the curse was already tolling on her and how much magic she was probably using to fight it off, and like goddamn. She was almost beating lilith, definitely beating the shit out of her, but she was almost defeating Lilith who was at her full power, and that is just a fraction of what she used to be able to do. Her powers were a gift of god, and I think that the loss of them will greatly affect her. She’s already admitted that she doesn’t know how to do much without her magic, and I think going straight from the second most powerful witch on this isles to having no power at all is going to be incredibly taxing on her, physically and mentally.

Luckily for her the name edalyn also means patience, another thing about her name is that it not only means gift of god, but also similar things like gifted by the gods or even goddess, and this draws a connection to Lilith who is named after a demonic figure, casted out for having defied god, they are quite literally polar opposites on the name spectrum, and we see that a lot in the show, they are completely different people, I mean have you looked at them they don’t even look related, but the funnier thing is that their personalities do the same thing. You’d expect Edain her youth to be a gift from the devil, just ask principal bump, and Lilith seemed to be a goody two shoes who worked her ass off, their names could be switched based off their characters alone.

A random baby name site I found said that :

“Persons with the name edalyn are usually highly flexible and well equipped to making and accepting change throughout their life. They always seek excitement and are sometimes a bit of a risk taker. They are imaginative, and often, through their unconventional way of thinking, are naturally able to solve complex problems with ease. They are quick thinkers and observers who are clever, analytical and versatile”

Which I mean like very much applies to eda, she takes change like a champ, either genuinely or by pretending she’s ok with everything, and is always seeking excitement. Like literally all of the time. Always. I think she takes felonies as a compliment, and one of the biggest changes in her life that she genuinely was able to adapt to and appreciate was

LUZ

Ok I think at this point everyone knows that at this point the name Luz means light, and if you didn't, oopsies now you do. The character Luz was named and designed after a real life person the miss dana terrace knew at the time she was starting to really think about the show, Luz ’s personalty comes more from dana herself and we love that, but the character has really started to grow into her name. This is made most obvious when the first spell Luz learns is the light glyph, not only coming into her own as a witch, but also starting to live up to her name, which along with light also has to do with “Our Lady of Light”, which is the virgin mary, fitting her right in with the other biblical names we got going on here. I really want to stress that I know next to zero about religion, and all of the connections I am making come from wikipedia, so bare with me here. But most of the time mary seems to be this pure, saint like figure, which I think is what a lot of people see Luz as, especially on the isles. I’m going to flat out say that this is in no way meant to pass off Luz as simple minded, pure, or oblivious, because we have seen what that girl is willing to do, she faced death and poked him in the with an ice cicle. In terms of life on the isles, however, she is more or less pure and sheltered, she’s completely new to the world she’s in, but she does quickly adapt, and shows more of her strong side, and remains a good person throughout all of it, taking losses as they come, and not letting them remain losses at the same time.

Back to the whole light thing, we already touched on the whole literal bit of her and the light spell, but can you think of a better way to describe Luz ? She literally brings light everywhere she goes, even Eda admits that she’s changed things for the better, for everyone around her too. Willow got a new friend, probably the first friend she’s had in a long time, and even got to begin repairing her relationship with amity, and got placed in the plant track so she could do the things she loves, all because of Luz . Edagot to grow as a person and a mentor, and finally got someone willing to accept all her eda-ness, unconditionally, someone to really care about that really cares about her back, all because of Luz . Amity got a friend who cares about her, not just her family name and money, someone who supports her and will do anything for her because she is her friend, and a bit of self discovery along the way for amity, all because of Luz . Not a single person on the isles who has had more than 2 minutes of interaction with Luz hasn’t had their lives improved, even belos got his portal, and the thing is that even characters who people might not even consider changed have been, characters such as

KING

The name king itself is obvious, he is royalty, the king of demoNS HIMSELF ASMODEUS hahahaha pulled a sneaky on you now accept my ideas as your own. I am on a mythological name kick, deal with it. The most important thing here is in the bible, asmodeus poses himself as a false god, which I know is something we have all considered with king, that he might be a full on liar, not be a king of anything and is just your ordinary street demon, it’s even come up in the show with him calling himself the king of artists and Luz asking him if he was just making it up at this point. It’s a good theory, I can see it, and this could be used as proof. There is also another legend that paints him as a good natured dude, who eventually banishes the king by literally throwing him, and then he loses his powers and is banished, but this is also the same legend where he marries Lilith and that is not something I am down for. There is another text in which he tells the king (the same one he threw in the other one) that his kingdom will one day be divided and the king does not believe him, and this is the same text where he admits to hating water and birds because they remind him of god. Lets think class, who has the god name and is related to birds here? King’s name by itself holds true to his character, who (regardless of if it is truthful or not) holds himself as if he is a king, and he isn't the only one with a name like that, there is also

WILLOW

Ok I know we all thought it, willow, the plant girl, how fiendishly clever. This also happens to be the only descriptor for her name I could find, which is totally fine because I think it’s a very cute name and willow is also very cute. This means we get to go into the symbolism of the willow tree wwwooooOOOOO aren’t you so very excited I know I am. Its kind of interesting, willow trees seem to match the character, understanding, warm, a safe space really, but most of all the ability to let go of pain and suffering, sometimes outright ignore it, and move on. Willow does always say out of sight out of mind does she not? She is willing to ignore, even excuse people bullying her, be it bosha or even amity, and the moment she got the chance her inner willow decided to try and literally burn the painful memories she had, willing to cause damage just to forget. Willow as a character is very willing to move on like nothing happened most of the time, key word most because another thing about willows is the ability to grow from the pain. Before understanding willow, we never really saw willow stand up for herself until she really had to, but hy the end of the episode she is willing to tell amity that she isn’t willing to fully forgive her, but she’s willing to grow and try. Heck, we see this over the entire first season, we see this little girl who can barely pull it together long enough to stand up for herself grow into this amazing character willing to publicly oppose the emperor and break into his castle for her friend, she tried to full out attack Lilith when 19 episodes earlier she wasn’t able to stand up to amity for bullying her. And I am in no way calling willow weak, she never was, she just needed to find the ability to show everyone that she’s strong, god I love willow so much, you wanna know who else loves willow?

GUS

Gus, my main man, love you but for this we are gonna have to use the full on augustus sorry babes. The name augustus means majestic, or venerable, which while I must say that the illusion of kiki doing the worm was probably one of the most majestic things I have ever seen, I’m going to focus on venerable a bit more here. Venerable is a big word, it means “accorded a great deal of respect, especially because of age, wisdom, or character.”, which for gus the age part might play a smaller part here, but he is good as what he does, Luz and willow both respect him, Eda Respects him, he’s this little dude who is younger than everyone and has to rely on his ability to succeed, not inly with his power but with his personality.Gus seems to be confident in himself, communicating with everyone regardless of who they are or what power they hold, similarly to willow he was willing to do anything to help Luz , leading into the second description of venerable, “heroic in nature”. Now, you might be wondering, bestie where ever did you get that description, it totally wasn’t from a religious page okyesitwas but that's fine because being pronounced venerable guarantees a spot in heaven so get it bestie. Overall, the general meaning for augustus is that they are strong, respectable, and powerful, which takes us right into the

ASSORTED BLIGHTS

The blight first names bring me joy so I am putting amity last because I think its really funny, starting off with alador, the name alador evokes diplomacy, correctness, and confidence. We know zilch about alador, but if the vibes of the blight family have anything to say it’s definitely something along those lines. The name odalia means wealth, which I mean like have you seeeen blight manor? Also back at it again with the fact that it’s a variant of the name odilia, like the saint olilia which I don't have ties for you right now because again, we know nothing about her. Edric also means wealth, fortune, riches, powerful, you get the vibes, same thing with emira which means commander, or prince, princess, leader, or star. So you know like we have all these super powerful names happening, and then, oh boy and then we get to little miss perfect herself, amity blight. It means friendship, or harmony. If I was her I would be so mad at my parents like yall have these mad powerful names and I got stuck with friendship? Hand me the emancipation papers. You know what they say, friendship is the real magic (even if no longer taught in schools due to budget constraints). I hope that this leads more into season 2 with amity working on her friendships and ultimately her relationships in general, which we got a bit of already with her working on repairing her relationship with willow, and making the moves to cut off old toxic friendships and moving into more genuine ones with willow, Luz , and gus. I guess you could say that the only thing ALL the blights have in common with each other is their

LAST NAME

BLIGHT

The word blight by itself means a plant disease which boy oh boy can you believe how nicely that fits into amity bullying willow because I sure can. Outside of just the plant bit it overall just means like something that damages another thing, and this works beautifully for each member of the family. The parents are damaging their children, the twins just causing general damage, and amity and her goddamn relationships, but fortunately that whole plant thing brings us into the next couple of last names

CLAWTHORNE

The last name clawthorne means “cold or exposed thorn tree” which had me kind of like what the heck so I went off and had some fun and got you some presents that I think are funny, so there was this guy right, his name was joseph clawthorne, and he created the term whiffenpoof, which is the name for a wildly fictitious animal, things like a jackalope, or even a griffin with spider breath, though I guess that would be the work of a

NOCEDA

Back again with the trees good lord, it means field of nut trees, so again I went into prominent people an found this guy named jorge noceda sanchez, he was a painter and some of his works are kinda baller actually it seems like something that would fit in on the isles, but also not all of the names have a deeper meanings, names like

PORTER

Ok I am like pretty sure this was just meant to be a play on the fact that gus’ dad’s name is perry and is a reporter, get it, perry porter, perry porter, reporter, but nonetheless I did some digging because why the heck not, it means doorkeeper, or gate keeper, someone who guards something like an important building, which honestly I think this would be a good last name for hooty if he ever gets one, but again not all of these are important names at the moment, or maybe they won't ever be at all, names like

PARK

At first I was kinda like l m a o willow park plant girl hahahahah plants in the park parks have trees willow is a tree but then I remembered that someone pointed out that park is a traditionally korean surname and then like a week later disney posted about it for aisian pacific american heritage month which kind of confirmed it, and I don’t know if the whole intention behind it was to establish willow as representation or not, but the surname park by itself means gourd and willow I am so sorry that is so unfortunate LMAOSIFN

BUMP

To be honest I was not expecting bump to have a last name that meant anything but it means swift walker and I think thats funny so you have to know it now

MISCELLANEOUS

BELOS

BIIIITCH LISTEN UPPPP there is a butt tone of mythology surrounding his name and its mostly a different form of it, belus, that is referenced, but same thing different shape. Most of his depiction is as a great king or ruler, in babylonian mythology being the equivalent of zeus of jupiter, which liiikkkkkeeeoajolnjojnkjakjavnjfvdfkjf but its fine everything is great its all ok most importantly, he is recognized as the god or ruler of war, and in that same mythology he lived in babylon, which “... was originally water, and called a sea. But Belus put an end to this, and assigned a district to each, and surrounded Babylon with a wall; and at the appointed time he disappeared.” and idk about you but the smell of him assigning a divide and disappearing smells sour like funky to me babes

HIERONYMUS AND BOSCHA

I am only putting this here because the fact that it’s totally a play on hieronymus bosch makes me cackle and you all have to know it thank you

ADEGAST

B-but brevyn he was only there for like one episode, yeah ok and? Radegast is the slavic god of hospitality, and there is no host like a host that pretends to take you on a mythical quest and then tries to eat you and your mentor and her deranged cat demon, ok? His name translates to “dear guest” or “welcomed guest” and I mean I think if my host tried to suck me into some fantasy would delusion i’d feel pretty welcomed

HOOTY

He is an owl

OWLBERT

He is also an owl

KIKIMORA

First and foremost, she is a little night gremlin who hates children and I think that really fits her, but she is also a little house demon, who is very difficult to get to leave, have we seen her outside the castle? Will she be a spy along with the mask next season? She also has a name that means nightmare or night demon, similar to a certain other night creature we might have heard of a while ago. She tried to strangle children and I love that for her,and she is described as a little old ugly messy haired lady and I feel like her current character has the personality of one so i’ll take it, but what really gets me is her villain origin story, which is that she "grows up with a magician in the mountains. From dawn to sunset the magician’s cat regales Kikimora with fantastic tales of ancient times and faraway places, as Kikimora rocks in a cradle made of crystal. It takes her seven years to reach maturity, by which time her head is no larger than a thimble and her body no wider than a strand of straw. Kikimora spins flax from dusk and to dawn, with evil intentions for the world.”

#lilith clawthorne #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #amity blight #willow park #gus porter #king of demons #blight siblings #the owl house #character names

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