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goddess-of-green · 3 years ago

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𝐈'𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝙉. 𝙆𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙚𝙙𝙖

Synopsis: You wish you could care for Komaeda without everyone finding you suspicious, but it gets to the point that you don't care anymore.

Or in which, Y/N cares for a tied up Komaeda.

(Yeah, Komaeda is my latest obsession and I'm gonna make that everyone else's problem.) Read Part 2 Here!

Warnings: GN!Reader, Reader is morally ambiguous, Komaeda is clingy and kinda creepy but we're here for it (chapter 1 trial spoilers)

Komaeda was strange.

Contradictory may be a better word for it, but strange certainly wasn't far off.

First would be his looks—pale skin that was a little too pale, a large jacket that had to be custom made but also not made at all with someone like him in mind, and his wild, wispy, off-white hair that faded into a blondish pinkish color—making him look antisocial, reclusive, and like he maybe doesn't take the best care of himself; the way he'd curl into his jacket, hunching to try and make himself seem smaller certainly not helping his case.

This was a sharp contrast to his personality. He was all smiles and positivity around the Ultimates, claiming them to be symbols of hope when in actuality he had the most pep of any of them. Always quick to try and find the good in a situation and never letting despair take hold of him—even when the others found it suspicious, how carefree and smiley he seemed to be even when someone had just lost their life.

Not to mention his voice. Looking at Komaeda, or even just knowing his demeanor—the type to shy away from many, claiming himself to be lesser in comparison—you would think his voice would be...softer.

It had a strange rasp to it that you couldn't categorize as anything but distinctly Komaeda. It didn't fit him but it fit only him all the same.

You really could have pictured him better with a softer voice, though. It just didn't seem to match with his looks or personality. Which was...strange considering that his looks and personality were practically total opposites.

Thoughts like these ran through your head everyday. Komaeda had always interested you.

Ever since the beginning of the school trip. (That didn't take long to reveal itself as a deadly game designed to pit you all against each other.)

He was kind to you, just like all the other Ultimates, but you noticed that he had a way of putting himself down.

He was always apologizing for silly things that hardly warranted apologies in the first place, and comparing his talent to everyone else's, claiming it not to be a valid talent in the first place.

He also never seemed to get irritated with anyone. Though you were unsure if it was actually due to him feeling lesser than the other Ultimates and therefore not expressing his feelings or if he was simply a very patient person.

You didn't talk to him terribly often, but you cherished the moments that he opted to spend with you.

You enjoyed analyzing his character, and if he noticed your tendency to observe him, he never commented on it.

Still, Komaeda was just another student in this killing school trip.

He was just another person to be suspicious of, and to simultaneously look out for as the threat of murder loomed over your heads.

Your opinion changed after the first trial.

Hinata had accused Komaeda of murdering Togami, and while you honestly could not rule out the possibility in your mind, it still felt off.

Komaeda was quick to lose his composure, tugging at his hair and whimpering as he tried in vain to defend himself.

That curtain soon fell too, though.

His manic laughter was deafening in the courtroom, but you were mesmerized by the display.

Yet another contradiction; Komaeda is unstable.

Was that really a contradiction, though? It honestly didn't seem too far-fetched to think he had some kind of issues.

He seemed a little too weird to be...completely mentally healthy.

You put a temporary stop to your racing thoughts and focused all of your attention on listening to what Komaeda had to say. You were very interested to hear him out.

He rambled on about hope and despair, and how he set everything up to apparently create an obstacle for the Ultimates to overcome—an attempt to make everyone stronger.

He was certainly unstable, but you could somewhat understand his thought process.

Seeing this completely new side of Komaeda really shouldn't have affected you the way it did; but it was the final straw in terms of your piquing interest.

Everyone seemed to be shocked or scared by this side of him, and that made you realize that maybe you weren't perfectly stable either.

Especially considering that you found his passion attractive.

The way he drooled at the thought of finding the Ultimate Hope, something you would have loved to hear him talk more about had he not been interrupted in favor of continuing the trial.

In the end, Komaeda was innocent. Another contradiction.

Hanamura was boiled alive for his crimes, something you really should have cared more about in favor of untangling the mystery that was Komaeda Nagito.

You were the first to notice—or at least to comment on—Komaeda's absence at the restaurant the morning after the trial.

You briefly considered that he may be grieving the loss of Hanamura, but found the possibility unlikely as you recalled his behavior leading up to Hanamura's execution.

You questioned some of the others about it, doubting that they had any useful information but being proven wrong by Souda and Nidai's extremely suspicious behavior.

It wasn't hard to squeeze the information out of Souda, or Nidai either. He was a softie at heart.

You had initially been hesitant to be open about your interest in Komaeda, but when you became privy to what they had done to him, you didn't care anymore.

You were pissed off at them.

You understood where they were coming from, but for some reason the idea of Komaeda sitting tied up alone in a dark room for hours by himself made your stomach coil unpleasantly; and if being angry would make that queasy feeling go away you would gladly be angry.

You picked up a tray and put some toast and milk on it.

A simple, and fairly light breakfast, but it was one you had seen him eat before, so it was a safe enough choice. You could always bring him more food if he was still hungry, you supposed.

Souda didn't comment as you made the tray with irritation present on your face, even though he knew it was for Komaeda.

You weren't sure if he chose to stay quiet because he knew Komaeda needed to be fed at some point, or if he was still frightened by your outburst.

Most likely the latter, you mused as Souda whimpered and pulled his beanie over his eyes when you started to make your way out of the restaurant.

With a sigh, you walked briskly to the old building, ignoring Koizumi's call of "What are you doing?" as you set your sights on Komaeda's place of confinement.

However, you could hardly get into the building before Monomi popped up, stopping you in your tracks as she waved her arms around.

"No no no! This old building is being renovated! You can't go inside!" She exclaimed, an oddly determined look on her face.

You really didn't have the patience for this.

"Oh, so you're worried about my safety, but not Komaeda's? In case you haven't noticed, humans need food in order to survive. So kindly move aside so I can provide that." You snapped, tray apparent in your hand.

Monomi reacted dramatically, throwing her arms up in the air with a shocked look on her face. "Ha-wa!? You know about that too, Y/N!?"

At your silent scowl, Monomi hunched over whimpering. "C-Cuz...Nidai and Souda earnestly told me that Monomi is the only one we can rely on...."

"And...it's true that Komaeda needs to reflect on his actions..." She continued, tears—somehow—rolling down her puffy cheeks.

Feeling slightly bad that you made Monomi cry, you sighed.

"Yeah, well that doesn't make it right for us to tie him up and lock him in the building where Togami died, does it?" You said, your tone much gentler than before.

"Besides, he'll starve to death if no one feeds him and then we'll have another death—another murder—on our hands." You explained, watching as she perked up in realization.

"S-Starve... Ha-wa-wa-wa-wa!" She started shivering, like the thought alone was terrifying to her.

Sensing that she had no more qualms with your entry, you walked past her and toward the dining hall.

With no hesitation, you opened the door to the dining hall, knowing but still unprepared for the sight you would face.

Komaeda was waiting for you with a big smile on his face.

"...Y/N?" He smiled, looking unsurprised but pleased all the same.

"Ah, could it be...? Did you take time out of your busy day to bring some food to little old me?" He asked, not waiting for a response before he continued.

"Wow, I'm so happy!" He grinned, seeming completely unperturbed by his state.

You tightened your grip on the tray as you examined the way he was tied up: Rope around his legs and a hefty chain binding his wrists behind his back.

"As you can see, I can't exactly greet you with my full hospitality...but feel free to relax." Komaeda said airily, as if inviting you into his cottage.

He was laying on the ground on his side. That couldn't be comfortable.

You wondered when exactly he had been tied up. Had he been in the old building like this all night?

"Huh, what happened? Your face looks kind of scary." Komaeda asked, noticing the angry look on your face.

You sighed, sitting in front of him and setting the tray down next to you.

"...I can't believe they did this to you. How long have you been here? When was the last time you ate?" Questions started spilling as your concern for his well being boiled over.

Komaeda had a surprised look on his face for a second, before a wide smile appeared on his face.

"Don't tell me... You actually care for my health? Wow! Your kindness is truly befitting of an Ultimate!" He exclaimed, as if he was overjoyed that someone so much as asked how he was doing.

Komaeda pressed his face into the carpet, a blush apparent on his face. "To think, that someone like you could even show compassion for trash like me...it fills me with such hope." He shivered, his breathing starting to pick up slightly.

You were slightly embarrassed by how affected he seemed to be, so you tried to change the subject.

"Hey now... We can talk later, okay? You need to eat first." You said, not waiting for him to respond as you lifted him up slightly to let his head rest in your lap.

The position was unnecessarily intimate, but you couldn't help but indulge in the impulse and Komaeda was in no position to stop you.

Not that he'd want to, anyway.

Komaeda swallowed as his cheek rested against your thigh, his face so hot he was worried you could feel it with his face in your lap.

You ripped the toast into smaller pieces, and brushed his hair out of his face as you guided it to his mouth.

His hair was softer than you thought... It's wild appearance gave the impression that he didn't take care of it, but he definitely did.

After brushing his hair out of his eyes, you didn't take your hand out of his hair. Another impulsive move.

You opted to brush your fingers through it as you kept feeding him the pieces of bread, gently scraping your nails against his scalp here and there.

Komaeda shivered at the feeling, continuing to eat the pieces of toast as your fingers occasionally brushed his lips.

"I must be in heaven...for an Ultimate like you to be willingly putting your hands on putrid garbage like me..."

Despite the meaning behind his words, his voice was soft and he had a smile on his face.

"Hm? You're not putrid garbage Komaeda. In fact, I think you look quite nice. And you're smart, too." You said, looking down at him in your lap as he stared into your eyes, hooked on your every word.

"Good-looking and intelligent... That doesn't really sound like trash to me..." You smiled, leaning down closer to Komaeda's face as he stared up at you, wide eyed.

He sighed happily after a moment, flushing as you leaned back, giving him his space once again.

"Wow... To pay such compliments to someone like myself, when you are clearly the one worthy of praise here... You are truly one to behold. From your glimmering talent, to the endless kindness you hold in your heart." He looked at you without really seeing, starting to drift off into his mind as he drooled.

Komaeda seemed to be more infatuated with you than you thought.

Well, not that you minded.

You hadn't been lying after all. He was truly attractive.

"Hey now, you haven't had anything to drink yet. You're probably thirsty right? Let me help you drink." You said, bringing him out of his thoughts as you brushed his hair out of his face.

Komaeda blinked out of his stupor, smiling up at you once he registered your words.

"Mm, okay."

Nodding at his agreement, you started to lift him up out of your lap and help him sit up on his own.

He groaned as you helped him sit up, but you weren't sure if it was from discontent at having to leave your lap or the discomfort of his bindings.

The former, You confirmed as he leaned against you, still trying to get you to support him.

"C'mon, you need to sit up to drink this. Besides, laying down like that with your binds can't be comfortable." You tried to coax him into sitting up.

He's acting like a sick little kid...

Slowly, he leaned back and sat up on his own, kneeling.

You picked up the small bottle of milk off the tray and unscrewed the cap.

You placed a hand against Komaeda's jaw gently, tilting his face up slightly so he could drink the milk without spilling any.

Your efforts proved futile however, as Komaeda tried to lean back and you ended up spilling the milk on him.

Well, it was really more of a dribble, but you still felt bad.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" You quickly apologized, reaching up to wipe the milk off his chin.

At the same time, Komaeda stuck his tongue out to try and catch some of the milk, "unintentionally" brushing his tongue against your fingers as he did so.

You didn't react outwardly, trying to make sure you got all the milk off him, but Komaeda flushed.

"Such a kind Ultimate..." Komaeda sighed, "Feeding me, touching me, wasting apologies on me..." He continued, smiling deliriously.

"You're truly perfect."

You blushed at his praise, unused to having someone worship you so thoroughly like this.

Suddenly, a thought struck you.

Ah, they've probably been dehydrating him, but still...

"Komaeda, has anyone let you use the bathroom since they tied you up?" You asked inquisitively.

Even if the others would distrust you for it, it was just too inhumane to not allow him bathroom breaks.

He already had to sleep on this awful, hard floor.

No wonder he wanted to keep laying in your lap.

"Ah, no. But you don't need to worry. I haven't had anything to drink before now so I'll be okay." He smiled, as if that was perfectly fine.

Your brows furrowed and your face twisted into a scowl.

"I can't believe them. Even if they dislike you, you're our classmate. They have no right to do this to you! I'm sorry I can't do more to help, Komaeda." You said earnestly.

Even if you wanted to let him out, you couldn't. You could probably untie the ropes around his legs (with a decent amount of effort,) but you didn't have the key for the handcuffs attached to that bulky chain keeping his arms behind his back.

"So sweet... Even when all the others do so vehemently, you don't hate me... It fills me with such hope!" He exclaimed, sighing out in bliss as he gazed at you with lovestruck eyes.

"Y-Yeah, Yeah..." You murmured, embarrassed again.

Looking down at the tray beside you, you felt a small prick of disappointment upon noticing that it was empty. (Besides the nearly empty bottle of milk.)

"Well, I guess I should be going then... I'll come back to feed you in a few hours, okay?" You said, picking up the tray with one hand as you got ready to stand up.

"Ah- W-Wait! Y/N!" Komaeda said suddenly, stopping you from leaving.

"Hunh? What is it?" You tilted your head, waiting for his answer.

"U-Um, heh..." Komaeda got shy suddenly, putting his head down. "I-I know I have no right to ask an Ultimate like you this, but..." He trailed off, seemingly still unsure.

"What is it, Komaeda?" You pushed, getting slightly impatient.

"C...Could you please...stay?" He asked. "Just for a little longer...?"

Ah. It must get lonely being tied up in a room like this, and having to spend hours in solitude.

Placing the tray down, you smiled. "Of course."

"I don't imagine the floor is very comfortable to lay against..." You said slowly. "If you like, you can lean against me again."

At Komaeda's eager nod, you helped him get back into a lying position, his head in your lap as you brushed your fingers through his hair gently.

He started to relax against you, and you knew he was going to fall asleep soon.

"As long as you need, Komaeda." You spoke softly.

"I will be here."

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa 2 x reader #sdr2 x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #dr x reader #dr 2 x reader #dr #dr 2 #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #nagito komaeda

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chrisevansjellybeans · 4 years ago

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Happier|Part Two

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone who has read part 1 and has sent back such kind feedback. It really means a lot!

Part 1

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, angsty as hell

Just open the fucking door.

You hesitated as your right hand hovered over the familiar front door. Over the last five years you’ve always just walked in. This home was like your home. But now, he wasn’t just his.

“Just walk in. It’s not rocket science.” You muttered to yourself. Sighing you tapped your fist against the wood.

Your body relaxed a smile fell on your face as you heard Dodger’s familiar bark ring through the house as he approached the door.

“Alright, bubba. Relax.” The butterflies flurried in your stomach as Chris’s voice carried past the door. You gave a small smile as the door flung open to reveal a shirtless Chris. “Why did you knock, you meatball.”

You just shrugged and quickly gave him a hug.

“What are your plans for tonight?” You asked as you both made your way to the kitchen, his arm slung loosely over your shoulder.

“I was supposed to go watch the game with Scott but he wasn’t feeling too hot, so I’m actually just going to stay in. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of your girls night.” He laughed, ruffling your hair as you turned the corner and caught view of Carissa.

“Yeah no boys allowed. Right, Y/N?” Carissa dried off her hands and rushed over to you, pulling you into a full body hug. You bit back the frustration when you realized that she was wearing the shirt that you always wore whenever you would spend the night at Chris’s, the familiar fabric like sandpaper under your fingertips now as you gently hugged her back.

“Yeah. No boys.” You said meekly as you took another good look at her. The shirt looked way better on her than it ever did on you. It fell just below her hips, the way it did on you but she somehow made it look so stylish. She just had on a pair of workout leggings underneath and fluffy socks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail and you noticed how she managed to not look like a founding father with her hair pulled back.

Subconsciously you twisted the bottom of your oversized college crewneck in your fingers. You were practically wearing the same thing as her but you felt like a middle school girl in gym class while she just screamed model off duty.

Add that to the reasons he noticed her and not me.

You needed to stop comparing yourself to her. But it was hard when the stark contrasts were so evident.

“So,” Carissa clapped her hands together. “Chris told me about your love for tequila so I made some of my famous spicy margaritas! And I just put on some popcorn and I may have gone a little overboard at Ulta today.”

You followed her gaze and it landed on an array of face masks and nail polish.

“Sounds like my que to leave. Have fun, ladies.” Chris pecked you on the cheek before pulling Carissa into a passionate kiss. You turned away, your face reddening.

“Thanks, baby.” You heard Carissa sigh. You heard the sound of them kissing again and you looked for any welcome distraction.

As if he could feel your pain, a wet nose booped your hand and you smiled down at your favorite little pup.

“Hi buddy.” You bent down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “I’ve missed you so much. Yes I have.” You ruffled his fur and smiled a genuine smile as he started licking your face.

“Oh boy, Bubba found his girlfriend.” Chris laughed as he bent down next to you. “I think he missed you more than I did when we were in Canada. Every time we would FaceTime his ears would perk up.”

“That’s cause he’s my best bud.” You kept talking to Dodger.

“Ouch.” Chris gently pushed you. You winked in his direction and for a moment everything felt normal. Chris’s eyes sparkled as if he was appreciating the normalcy too.

“Chris, please.” You were snapped out of it when Carissa let out a playful whine.

Chris blinked and then slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Alright, baby. I’m gone.”

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

“He did not!” Carissa burst out laughing as you finished telling the story of when Chris singlehandedly knocked down an entire aisle in CVS.

“I’ve never seen him turn so red in my life. I think he went back to that CVS every day for the next year to apologize. And of course he stayed afterwards to help clean up.” You wiped your eyes, tears falling from laughter.

“Sounds just like him.”

You took another sip of your margarita. You were surprised at how much fun you were actually having. You guys had just finished your second sheet mask of the night and were currently working on demolishing the stuffed crust pizza you ordered. Manis and Pedis to follow.

“Have I walked in on an evil plan being hatched?” You both turned as Chris emerged from the basement, Dodger in tow. Thankfully he had put a shirt on because his tattoos always did something to you.

“Had to share the CVS Incident of ‘17.” You replied as Carissa hid her face as she giggled again.

“Oh god,” Chris groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Please. Let that story die.” You watched as he positioned himself behind Carissa, caging her in with his arms. You always knew Chris was an affectionate person. If it was a year ago, you would have been the one trapped between him. He had a lot of love to give and wasn’t afraid to show it. He placed a kiss on the top of her head before his blue eyes met yours.

You knew that he was silently asking you if you were having a good time. You could see the sense of hope that was behind the question.

“You came up just in time for a manicure.” Carissa turned around on the stool and smiled up at her boyfriend. “I’m thinking hot pink would look amazing on you.”

“I don’t know, I think he’s more of an aquamarine kind of guy.” You lifted up the shade of blue that was in front of you. “Compliments his eyes.”

“Ooh, you are so right, Y/N/N.”

“Wow, would you look at that? Looks like the game is back on.” Chris jokingly started moving away from Carissa.

“Oh come on, baby. One hand.” Carissa pulled at his hand, her lips coming out in a pout.

Chris gave her a look of fake annoyance but you could see the smile forming on his lips before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“One hand.”

“Yay!”

You watched as Chris sat down and Carissa got to work painting his nails.

“Okay, Y/N. Tell me about the men in your life.” Carissa looked away from Chris’s hand and turned to you.

“Well, I guess you’ve already met them. Chris, Scott and Dodger are it.” You shrugged, half kidding and half not. Chris gave you a look of what you could only call pity and you chose to ignore him. You could feel your face become hot at your lack of a love life.

“Oh that can’t be the case. You’re absolutely gorgeous, there’s no way that men aren’t all over you. Right, Chris? Tell her she’s beautiful.”

“She knows I think she’s beautiful.” Chris said, his tone seriously as his eyes never left yours. “It’s more of getting her to know that.”

“We’re not going to talk about it.”

You and Chris stared each other down before Carissa cleared her throat.

“Well one day you are going to find something like what we have. The hopeless romantic in me truly believes that there is someone for everyone; and I know that if we can find happiness like this, so can you. You’re an amazing person, Y/N.”

You looked down and bit your lip. You wanted so badly not to like her, to have her be some terrible person so you could justify the feelings that you had for her boyfriend. And yet, here she was, being the kindest person and caring truly for your feelings and your happiness.

“Thank you, Carissa.”

She smiled a toothy grin before turning her attention back to Chris. Chris kept his eyes on you a moment longer but when you didn’t look back he sighed and focused on his girlfriend.

- - - - - - -

“You don’t have to do that.” Carissa came up behind you as you finished washing the plates from before.

“It’s really no problem.” You shrugged. “You did all of this, the least I can do is clean up.”

“Yeah, but you’re my guest. A host should never have her guest clean up.” You knew she meant it without malice but the words stung. She was right. That’s all you were in this house, a guest. You were their guest. They lived here, together.

You just nodded and finished the plate you were cleaning before stepping away from the sink so Carissa could finish. You mumbled that you were headed to the bathroom and quickly made your departure from the kitchen.

You rounded the familiar corner and bit your lip as you were five steps away from the bathroom, where you could finally take a deep breath.

“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped as Chris stepped out of his bedroom, a grin plastered on his face. “I think you made a good call on the nail polish color.” He waved his fingers in your face, jokingly.

You let out a soft laugh but refused to meet his eyes, instead eying the bathroom door that was so close and yet so far.

“Okay, come on.” Chris’s voice got serious. “Is there something going on at work? Are you sick? Why are you so…” Chris motioned his hands up and down your body.

“So what, Chris?”

“So sad?” His eyebrows creased in concern. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Not everything.

“I told you at the restaurant, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I barely believed you then.” You bit your lip and once again looked away from him. You should have known that he knew you were lying out of your ass.

“Chris, it doesn’t matter. It’s not your problem.” You huffed.

“Of course it’s my problem.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“But it’s not.” You snapped. Chris took a step back at your sudden change in attitude. “Just back off. You’re not my boyfriend.”

“And?” He snapped back, but he did move closer to you. He reached out and grabbed your forearms, pulling you into him. “I may not be your boyfriend but I am your best friend.”

“Chris, just let it go. It doesn’t even concern you.” You lied as you pushed him away.

“Well clearly this one thing as something to do with me. Since you’ve been acting like a mega bitch since I got home.” He crossed his arms.

You took a step back. Chris had never called you that before. Yes, you two had gotten into some heated discussions in the past and maybe have gone a couple times without talking to each other for maybe a day. But never once has he called you a bitch.

“Chris!” Carissa’s scolding voice came from behind. “Apologize to her right now, there is no reason to call any woman that word.”

Chris’s gaze held yours before it softened.

He sighed and dropped his arms. “Fuck...sweetheart. I’m-”

“Thank you for having me over, Carissa. I really did have a great time.” You turned away from him before he could finish. “I think I’m going to head out though.”

“Of course.” Carissa glared at Chris over your shoulder. “Please let us-or me, know when you get home. We can plan another one soon.”

“Sure.” You smiled weakly at her before casting one last look at Chris. He opened his mouth to say something but you just shook your head and made your way out of the house.

Tags

@stopbeingcurious

@lharrietg

@thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

@username23345

#chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans happier #happier

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Tender Ch. 2 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Winning the favour of the God of Mischief is not an easy task - even if he has already fallen for you.

Warnings: None.

Words: ~1600

A/N: Since I am writing several Series at once, together with Oneshots in between, the chapters are gonna be a bit shorter so I keep no one waiting. Hope that is alright!

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza @queenariesofnarnia @commonintrest @buckylokisimp @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @lxdyred @frostay

The first weeks after your arrival at the Avengers Compound passed by rather uneventful.

Due to the fact that you neither had a family you could be attached to, nor many belongings ever since HYDRA had kidnapped you and destroyed your home, Tony insisted on you living at the tower - like many of the other members as well.

Everything was just so new and exciting, not even Loki’s gleeful mockery could bring you down from that high.

Little did you know that all of his pep talks about those ‘inferior heros’, the ‘illusion of power’ or how no one was ever truly good or evil had a completely different reason:

An attempt to get you to leave, for your own good. After everything that had happened to you, the god was worried how another fight would affect you.

Anyway, it was a luxurious life compared to your old one, with so many kind persons and new perspectives. And you were sure to return that favor once you’d learn to control your powers!

So until then, you would train as hard as possible and care for your new friends through little acts of service. Caring for others came quite natural to you, may it be listening to their problems or simply complimenting them to see their faces brighten up.

And for some reason, that particular character trait was the one thing Loki found the most annoying.

How could a person so naive and pure think they could actually join in battles against evil? You’ll only end up getting yourself killed - and to be honest, Loki thought this to be a waste.

And even though he’d never admit it, but jealousy was starting to get the better of him the more he observed you getting along with everyone.

They adored you - and they were very right in doing so!

But that would mean that you were just nice to everyone, not especially to him, right?

Every time you’d help Bucky through a panic attack, braided Thor’s hair or helped Banner in the laboratory, Loki only wished you’d be with him instead - and if he had to burn this whole place to the ground for this to happen.

Yet his pride kept him from voicing that desire.

For you on the other hand, it was frustratingly hard to get through to the God of Mischief. In comparison to how he treated the other Avengers, he was always reserved and courteous towards you, yet also unreachable distanced.

Only on a weekend where the other Avengers were on a mission, the two of you found a way to actually bond with each other, if only a little.

Loki had once again read every book he borrowed from Stark’s library, now having a reason to leave his room again. At least those subhumans won’t be there to drain on his nerves...

When he crossed the living room on his way to the elevator, he blinked heavily as he saw you plainly chilling on the sofa. He was just about to turn around and leave, when you hectically gestured for him to stay.

“Hey, Loki! 😊” you wrote on a notepad, holding it up for him to read.

“Greetings...” he spoke between gritted teeth, but your smile wouldn’t falter, so he stood rooted in the middle of the room.

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” How blunt could you be to ask a literal god directly, just like that?!

“Actually, I-” When your eyes met, Loki cut himself off, the words being caught in his throat. “Well, if you’re in dire need of my sublime company...”

You were quick to sit up straight, offering a bowl with popcorn to the Odinson which he curiously accepted. When he answered your question about what sweets they eat on Asgard, he wouldn’t understand why you’d laugh. Apparently ‘nuts and grapes’ are not considered treats on earth. Got it.

Yet that little huff you blew out of your nose instead of making an actual laughing sound came somewhat endearing to him, especially in contrast to your other noisy companions. “Adorable...”

Without even asking first, you’d wrap the other half of the blanket around Loki, effectively closing the gap between you two.

“Wha- I’m not cold!” he blurted out, visibly overchallenged by the sudden closeness. “I’m a Jotun, hel!”

What was he even so worked up about? Geeze...

“But the weather on Asgard is rather humid, right?” you wrote down, with him nodding approvingly. "It allows all kinds of flowers to blossom, other than this metal brick” he explained, your excited look not failing to keep him talking. “You should see it some time.”

Loki’s eyes were now locked on the screen, and you could basically grasp his homesicknes, very well aware that a failure and war criminal like him would never be tolerated in those holy grounds ever again.

Great...now you had achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted.

You tugged on his arm so he’d shift your attention to you again, quickly writing something with a barely there sulk on your face:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you sad.”

Tears were already forming on the rim of your eyes, making Loki’s insides churn. “So sensitive...gods. Keep yourself together, would you.”

The Odinson instinctively wrapped an arm around you, his free hand petting your head as he pulled it to his chest. He was awfully warm for a frost giant, and his heart was hammering against his chest in a fastened pace - maybe just your imagination, though.

“Well, it’s winter...” he uttered, acting as if he actually cared about the plot of the movie. “I may not freeze, but you seemed cold. That’s all.”

You let your hand run across his collarbone, making him look down to you once again. He bit his lip as his icy glare met your warm one, eyes shimmering with earnest affection while you formed silent words with your lips:

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u.”

“N-no need to thank me.” Just now Loki wondered what kind of spell you were using on him, being reduced to a shaking and stuttering mess.

No curse, no beauty ever before had bewitched him so much that he would lose his cool, let anyone peek under his confident mask, after all.

Not so long ago, when he was still considered the handsome Prince of Asgard, he would bed a different lover on each night, though never settling for anyone.

And after the revelation of his true heritage, even those fleeting encounters to ease his loneliness would falter - all that’s left was certainty that the theory he had ever since his childhood had proven to be true:

That everyone had always secretly despised him, the failure of the family and disgrace to all of Asgard. Only through his Jotun blood they had found a reason to not play along with the royal courtesy anymore, showing their resentment up in the open.

But you...you looked at him with completely different eyes than anyone ever did.

Maybe he had become softer, weaker over time - or simply more mature. His mother once told him to seize the moment when someone truly special would cross his way, and to never let them go.

“We could do this more often.” You shoved the notepad in his line of sight, and just now he noticed that two hours had sure passed in an incredible speed.

Just the two of you, cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying each other’s presence instead of dealing with the troublesome past.

“Well...” Loki clawed into your upper arm softly, no intention of letting you out of his grasp already. “I am sure your other companions are more fun to be around. As you most likely already noticed, I am known for ruining the mood.”

Loki had a habit of talking ill about himself, and letting himself down as well. Yet as he saw you eagerly scribble on the notepad, he knit his brows together, impatient to what you’d say next.

“But I want to see you.” The word ‘you’ was written in a thicker font, underlined several times.

“Why?”, that was the first and only thing crossing his mind. And yet there you sat, shoving the notepad into his face with a stern look on your face.

Loki was rooted on spot as you put the notepad on the table, instead laying your hands on his cheeks and softly tugging on the edge of his lips. “S-m-i-l-e!”

“E-enough!” he carefully pushed your hands away, afraid you’d detect the mild blush on his face. “Then it shall be. What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

Loki finally arrived at the library to return his books, even though with a few hours delay. Realizing just how much he had enjoyed that spontaneous meeting with you, he began to panic.

Was it really a good idea to repeat this?

He was almost 100% certain that it would only end in him ruining your trust in anyone completely, if he’d ever allow you to come close to his core.

Due to him having saved you back then, you probably see him as something better than he actually was - and gods, how disappointed you’ll be once you’d find out what he really is like...

It was probably for the best if this would never happen, with him just keeping on to admire you from afar...

After a while of just staring into the void, mentally debating about your offer, he couldn’t help the fact that he was already looking forwards to meeting you again.

Uncertain how to approach the matter, Loki was at least eager to show you his goodwill.

For you have been the first person who - despite everything he had done - was willing to give him another chance.

"Greetings. I need every available book about sign language.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki / Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki / You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #God of Mischief #Marvel #Disney #Writing #Fanfiction #Self Insert

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thatbangtanbloom · 4 years ago

Text

petals | bts [1]

petals | bts

teaser | [1] (could be read without the teaser)

characters: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, reader

pairings: ot7 x reader

categories: angst, fluff, (light???) smut

genre: idol!bts, idol!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: reader is a bit sensitive but comes out of her shell slowly,, uhh,,, grinding???, making out ;) , sad kissing????, hoseok is lowkey whipped for reader, so is jimin,,, taehyung is a little mean for like 2 sentences

a/n: this first chapter introduces the reader, j-hope, and jimin! more members will be introduced with reader next chapter :]]

❀

The seven of them may not have been bound by blood, but they were in every other way. Their interests often aligned and common actions were shared where sometimes they did not know where one began and one ended. They began their days together as they made their way to the practice room and ended it when they loaded into vans to make their way back to their shared dorm.

It wasn’t as though they had never noticed the fundamental difference between the seven of them and you. They were keenly aware of it whenever the stylist squeezes you and your other girl group members into shorts opposite to their pants or the added slits to accentuate your figure when suits were the dominant style. Yet, your performance was the tipping point.

Each of them had drawn silent as they watched you move like a siren across the stage. The male dancers seemingly falling at your feet while your white chiffon hugged your every curve, floating like water with each move to the beat. Never mind that you were in a group with seven other girls, all of their eyes could only be glued to you.

They would like to think that it were the performances that had them glued to your every move - that it wasn’t the remnants of false dreams that led them to watch you like a hawk. Almost like wolves, they would be eager to pounce at you if there was one misstep. Yet, you made none.

Hoseok was the proudest of them all. He purposely would stay up to watch you practice, giving helpful tips to evoking further emotion.. but this? Seeing you move this sexily as an enchantress almost made him feel weak in the knees.

They had attempted a lot to make you feel welcomed into their tiny home of seven. When BigHit informed them that the top trainee from Produce 101 would be joining their company left a sour taste in their mouths, but after learning it had been you who captivated millions, their worry lessened. BigHit had provided themselves on growing from the ground up - working organically to cultivate each trainee with precision, sincerity, and perseverance. Their own premonitions of how you functioned as an artist did make them question your credibility. It was only a matter of time before their watchful eyes looked after you since your pre debut days. The trainee girl division of BigHit had been long gone, but BigHit could not let go of you, not after so many monthly evaluations, tearful performances, and years going down the drain.

It was not as though you were coming into the group empty-handed. You had your own fan base from the show and project group who swore to stay by your side no matter what. Admittedly, your fan dynamic was a bit more mixed - guys eagerly flicking to see you and the other girls in school uniforms while you belted your heart out. The latest addition was the reassurance that BigHit needed to their girl group that they intended to put together.

“She doesn’t belong here.” were the first words you heard when your bags finally were placed down. It had been Taehyung who had uttered such words. You instantly find your blood run cold from the words. You could not quite understand why Taehyung was so against you. The two of you had never spoken more than three words to one another outside of promotional shoots where you were slated as an MC for the few shows variety was on.

Nevertheless, you tucked your head down and followed your other group members to the practice studio where you would dance for hours on in. You would practice until your limbs ached, taking every moment of a break as one step closer to the solace of your bed when comeback preparations were soon approaching. But every time you rested for just a moment, you could remember the echo of Kim Taehyung’s words. She doesn’t belong here.

Unbeknownst to you, not every member of BTS was antagonistic towards you. In particular, Jung Hoseok admired your tenacity more than anything. The two of you spoke in quick words, him congratulating you on your variety show appearances and complimented the way your freestyle had improved over the years. He was in complete awe of you.

“You’re here again?” His soft voice greets you at seven in the morning on the fifth-floor practice room of BigHit Entertainment. You would be embarrassed that you are currently laying on the floor looking utterly disheveled with your gray sweatpants loosely hugging your hips and the way your shirt is drenched with sweat if this were the first time.. but it had not been. He has two iced Americanos in hand and his lovely heart-shaped smile to match. “I swear.. you’re one of the hardest working people I know.”

His words lift your heart and you scramble to stand up and bow deeply to him, “Thank you, senior.” You say before bending a full ninety-degrees to show your respect.

“There’s no need for formalities… aish… are we not close?” Hoseok teases playfully as he places his keys onto the television monitor’s counter and shrugs off his jacket. He has always been one of the more friendly members of your senior group. Most likely because he catches you in the practice room four days out of the week when your leader, Roa, has not realized you snuck out of the dorms in exchange of the four walls. “You can just call me Hoseok. Or j-hope if it makes you feel better.”

You shyly rub the back of your neck, “I.. I suppose we are.” You admit sheepishly as you watch him pass you the iced americano into your hands. His hands are soft and gentle as they overlap over yours. “Congratulations on Billboard and the Grammy’s…. It must be very exciting,”

“Yah, yah, you said that yesterday.” Hoseok has always teased you as his hand raises to your head and pats it gently. In particular, Hoseok has always found your shyness cute. He thought it was sweet that despite years of being an idol, you still never lose the softer parts of yourself. “Let’s talk about you. And Reverie, huh?”

Your girl group, Reverie, had ultimately been a successful feat despite Korean netizens eager to question the validity of putting former IOI members and BigHit trainees as the first girl group the company would produce as opposed to using ‘fresh’ talent. Reading article after the article had made you insecure when they commented on your rather ‘boring’ facade compared to the other members that had charms that seemed to overflow. Were you that bad?

As though reading your thoughts, Hoseok gently clears his throat. “You should show me your dance.” He contends with a warm smile.

Despite only having these secret times in the practice room, Hoseok felt as though he could read you. He noticed your demure way of approaching things that were unfamiliar to you - the sharp contrast for when you performed on stage. If anything, he wanted to help you find the same confidence you felt on stage. He wanted you to find it with him.

“I can do that,” You say as you take another sip of your iced Americano and rush to place it in front of the mirror. You steal a peek from the corner of your eye as the older man settles into the chair and shrugs off his jacket. The other members (most likely Jimin since he tended to be as much of a practice fiend as he was) would not join for another half an hour, so Hoseok was eager to spend this time with you.

His eyes follow your every moment as he leans forward like a man entranced. He’s always admired the fluidity in your movement; the way that you texture changes without warning and how sharp each move is when it needs to be. Like water, you move as one with no disconnecting movements until you want it to be. Quite literally, he thinks your poetry in motion.

The latest comeback is equally as alluring as it is power-based. BigHit quantifying that girl groups should not be held to a double standard meant the choreography being just as difficult as your male counterparts. More than satisfactory for you, it let you feel a greater sense of accomplishment when you hear Hoseok’s claps of approval.

“You’ve improved a lot.” Hoseok remarks with a bright grin as he stands to his feet before walking over. “Though… I would say that this one move could be drawn out more. You’re focusing more on the timing rather than the execution.” He watches as your features contort at his words as you try to piece together what move in particular was he talking about. Could it had been the pas de bourrée? “Here,”

He moves closer to you with a reassuring look in his eyes as his hand rests on your shoulder and slightly presses down, “You’re supposed to have your shoulder go slack, right? You shouldn’t be so tense. Relax.” He says as his fingers trap down your arm to graze over your elbow and tuck it in more. “Your arm was taking away from the focus on your legs. You know the choreography, so why do you dance like you don’t?”

“Ouch,” You say with a forced laugh. You knew he meant well, but from to time, Hoseok did tend to critique you more like you were a member of his own group rather than a junior. Regardless, you were still thankful for his key eye for detail. You never would have deduced it was because he was looking out for you far more than just as a senior, but as something more. “You said last time you wouldn’t be so harsh,” You joke after mustering the courage after fixing your posture and your eyes reclaiming Hoseok’s.

Hoseok chuckles softly, “If I knew you couldn’t take it, I wouldn’t say it,” He remarks gently before turning on his heels beside you. “You’re practicing for the partner stage within the comeback, right? Then you should do it properly.” His voice lowers ever so slightly when he speaks, “With me.”

This hadn’t been the first time you had practiced with Hoseok. Early morning practices often consisted of him arriving at roughly the same time each day, if not earlier, with his small critique prior to him opting for a more hands-on approach. You saw it as nothing more of a senior looking after his junior, but Hoseok saw it as far more than that. How could he not when you were this cute without realizing it?

He wanted to ruin you.

Your thoughts melt away when you feel Hoseok’s hands settle onto your waist, pulling you closer to him as the two of you make eye contact. The way that he looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated with an intensity you can not quite discern, makes you let go of the breath you had not realized you were holding. How come it never felt like this when you were dancing with the actual backup dancers?

“Your leg should rest on my hip, like this,” Hoseok says as he purposely tucks his hand in the dip of your waist to press your waist against him. He’s warm to the touch, much like the sun itself and you have to bit back the blush that threatens to paint on your cheeks. “There, you’re doing good. You’ve always been good at listening.” He praises you as he guides you through the next move. Each moment you spend closer to him has you nearly buckling in the knees when his voice tickles your ear. Did he have any clue what the hell he was doing to you?

You may not have realized it, but Jimin ultimately did. The shorter man has grown familiar with the scene as he tucks his bag under his arm and lingers by the door to watch. He’s not surprised that Hoseok had shown up an hour early for practice in the wrong practice room when he leads you across the room. Jimin has to wonder if being attracted to you is infectious when it seems he is equally infatuated with you. Perhaps even more than Hoseok.

Jimin chuckles to himself as he pauses the music and leans against the door frame with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were star-crossed lovers.” It’s almost biting the way your face changes of recognition when your eyes meet Jimin.

You immediately pull away from Hoseok to bow deeply to Jimin out of respect, “It’s not like that. He was helping me-“

“You should let me help you too,” Jimin almost pouts as he repeats the familiar action of discarding his jacket and strolling over. “I can dance too, you know?” He teases as he notices the chuckle that Hoseok had been holding back. Both of them found you being flustered adorable, especially when this normally wasn’t like you. What happened to the alluring siren on stage? They practically craved to have you put them in their place.

Unlike Hoseok, your history with Jimin runs deeper than your ties to BigHit Entertainment. The younger man had known you at your lowest point, kissed away your tears on the night that your first group, I.O.I, had disbanded after the project’s deadline came and went.

You had never mentioned it, but you remembers the last night in the IOI dorms like it was yesterday. You had never wanted to know the pain of your group disbanding again. You had called Jimin that night because you didn’t know who else to call. Somi had been crying in the bathroom for hours, saying how it felt like SIXTEEN all over again, and you could only console your dongsaeng for so long. Kyulkyung and Nayoung already were going to be debuting in PRISTIN with eight other girls as though IOI never existed and was another project group. The time zone left you unavailable to call you parents and Jimin was all you had…

“I’m always going to be here, you know that, don’t you?” Jimin had whispered into your ears as his fingers gingerly stroked your cheek. He looks into your eyes, hoping that your words give some semblance of comfort when your heart ached to no return. How many times would it be that you had to build yourself up to be strong just for everything to fall apart outside of your control?

You sniffle when Jimin makes you look into his eyes, “I-I-I know,” You stammer out as you try to regain your control over your emotions, but it hurt. It hurt so bad that your head was pounding and it felt like you could hear the blood rushing to your ears. “It just.. I just want it to stop hurting, Jimin..” You grip the fabric of his shirt as though he were the one person in this world that piece you back to gather.

“It will take time.. but I will be here until the very end.. you hear me?” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. His soft monolids drip honey when they meet yours. “YN-ah… look at me.”

With a sniffle, you nod, “I am.. I am…” You whisper as your eyes scan his own. You never quite realized how long his eyelashes are or the way he holds the entire galaxy in his eyes up so close. You never have clung to him this much either, so it leaves you a bit breathless when Jimin says nothing for a while, just admiring you. “Jimin?”

“Mmm?” He asks as he does his best to wipe away your tears and not think about how pretty you look right now. He was here just to comfort you, but why can he not stop himself from looking at your lips? From thinking about how badly he wants to help you forget and kiss you?

“You’re pretty,” You say simply as you sniffle slightly and wipe away a stray tear with your sleeve.

“You’re prettier,” He tells you with a soft laugh as his thumb brushes against her chin. He wonders how close it would be for him to close the distance between the two of you with just a kiss.

Jimin has always complimented you, reassuring you of your every perfection, but this time he seems to mean it a little bit more as he presses you tighter against his chest to hold you close.

“Jimin…” You whimper as you hug him closer to you. “Please.. please help me forget,” you whisper softly for just the two of you to hear.

So without thinking, you cup both of his cheeks to close the distance between the two of you. Your arms snake around his shoulders to pull him closer as his arms instantly wrap around your own waist. He is warm to the touch, but fits like a perfect puzzle piece.

Jimin can not say how many times he had thought of this moment - the way you would fit around him like missing puzzle piece. The way he would kiss away every worry from your pretty little head as his hands bunch up the sweatshirt at your waist as he would kiss up your stomach before peppering kisses along your thighs. He’s dreamed of what it would feel like to finally hear your soft moans for him and him alone, but he still holds back as he lets you take the lead. Especially when you are this sensitive.

His lips are soft and pouty; they feel like the inside of a rose as his jaw slacks to let your tongue brush against his own. The taste is sweet with a bit of a tangy flavor: much like that of strawberry lemonade when each finger that presses against your side feels like keys being paid against a piano. For the first time in a while, things feel stable, sure, certain.

You’ve never wanted anything more in your life. You have no doubts as your hips grind against his own on the floor of your dormitory. His moans are soft each time your hips rhymically brush against the hardening tent within his pants. You like this reaction from him, the way his hips buckle into your own as your own teeth begin to nibble along his plump ones to elicit another mewl of pleasure from him. He feels like a dream, the way his hold on you tightens to bring you closer to him ; a sneaky hand that brushes along your hip to graze against the strap of your bra and tug it down in anticipation. You’re thankful that your door is locked in case one of your fellow members were to walk in on you grinding against your best friend after a fit of tears. God, you want him. You want him. You want him.

“YN-ah….” He groans as you begin to paper kisses along his neck. “I.. I want this… you have no idea how badly I want this… but I don’t want this if you’re just trying to forget,” He whispers as he forces you back to look at him. “Do you understand that?”

You grow silent as you watch his chest pant up and down in excitement. You know he wants it as badly as you do. You would be a fool to not see the way that he looks at you like you are the only one in the room. But you feel ashamed from how quick you are to close the gap between friends and lovers in the blink of an eye. Would crossing this boundary ruin things for you?

Jimin wonders if you remember those memories as vividly as he does. Sure, it had been a couple of years since that time, but he could not forget the way you fit perfectly around his lips. The memorable roll of your hips that nearly had him crying for him to be inside of you. He could remember all of this when you stared at your figure years later no longer as just friends, but with you as his junior and him as his senior.

Was it incomprehensible that he would wish to cross those paths again?

- - -

Don't be a silent reader! Let me know what your thoughts are! How do you feel about Taehyung not liking the reader very much? What do you think about the reader with Hoseok and Jimin? Let me know your thoughts :)

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coffebuns · 3 years ago

Note

Why do you ship EngIta? Or how did you start shiping them?

Don't mean to sound rude, i'm just curious lol :3c

Even though I already answered the second question in another post, I am going to take this opportunity to assume my role as (self-proclaimed) engita attorney & lay out my statements about why it is the supreme pairing involving both a*h italy & a*h england.

In the slang of the fallen before me- the engita/itaeng is what you may refer to as “endgame.” Here I will lay out my points:

*Warning, these are the ramblings of a madman. everything written here is purely speculation about two people that are actually countries that don’t actually exist. Also there’s some talk about canon content in here but this is largely talk about the personalities of these characters rather than canon interaction/history*

THE CASE FOR ENGITA

1. Compare & Contrast

When considering these two, there are chief contrasts: 1 easygoing v. 1 uptight; 1 optimist v. 1 pessimist; 1 blunt v. 1 polite (typically); 1 flighty v. 1 grounded; 1 rainy climate v. 1 sunny climate, etc., etc.

Yet, they are similar in some key ways since they are both: emotional, artistic, creative, passionate, & foodies. & awful.

2. The Sweet Spot

Since their similarities lie in an area of vulnerability & self-expression their initial contrasts create an opportunity for mutual character development.

Where Arthur can learn to experiment with his creativity, let his guard down & take things more lightly,

Feliciano can learn to become more grounded & practical as well as navigate through “negative” emotions (I like to picture this as him getting into the punk scene but that’s just me).

3. The Competition

In analyzing these two characters, there seem to be a few features that can make or break a potential (healthy) romantic relationship for each.

For one, I imagine, Arthur would benefit from an encouraging partner who is not run by the ego since he already has enough ego for at least 2 parties. While he finds bickering fun, that man is a sensitive soul: exhibit A. the sad drunk at the bar. He is also easily offended & insecure, a clear sign of instability in his character & uncertainty in his abilities. Too often in this mainstream is he placed with people who literally hate him & insult!

Then, the Feliciano. This bitch has a lot of love to give & is the manic pixie dream-boy of everyone’s fantasy. While relationship issues may stem from his himbo nature, my main issue here is with the sheer MISUSE of this man in relationships that are one-sided & borderline toxic (I hate that word but I can’t think of a better one).

While one could argue that engita would indeed fall into this category, I would retort that Arthur is too pussy to seriously ice someone out (unless they did something drastic, which is for some edgy fanfiction writer to figure out and not me) & Feliciano doesn’t like to hurt people (unless it’s Mussolini, amirite. don’t look up the footage it’s actually on youtube).

Feliciano would be a great person to break down Arthur’s barriers & just as easily Arthur would reciprocate his emotions- if not publicly @ first then surely in private.

…What? No. I am not accepting this as evidence against my point about them not being-…OBJECTION!

Anyway that image aside if you put the two in a breakfast club-esque scenario where they’re stuck with one another for an afternoon they would get past their initial prejudgments of one another. After all, there are things they already admire in one another: exhibit b. that one comic strip about the art or whatever u know what I mean.

4. Other… Things?

Now I’m just going to rapid-fire some really just amazing & outstanding points:

- Um, they have two big ass families they can bond over having

- Peter & Feliciano would get along 😻

- Football!

- Shared interest in the arts

- one baD cook one gOod cook LOL!

- Compatible zodiac signs ♉️♓️

- Language/Culture barrier but it’s cute

- Don’t know how to pronounce one another’s names properly but it’s cute -> leads to use of pet names

- mutual nicotine & caffeine addictions…. but its. that’s not a good point actually

- both romanticize things so they can be in their own little delusional world together

- aph japan function as mutual bestie 🤷‍♀️

- the fem versions of them are both named Alice & they canonically hate one another 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 what chemistry!

- um like Romeo & Juliet

- Mutual love for being/living near a body of water

- arthur garden plants that feliciano can use in his cooking hhuhhhhh

Okay, I need to go take an Engita detox now. Hope you’re convinced.

#engita #itaeng #hetalia #aph england #aph italy #gif

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deareddie · 4 years ago

Note

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE~

may i request buddie and 23 👀

okay so i know we’ve all probably read ten thousand variations of this concept now but it refused to leave my brain. I also originally had a completely different idea for this prompt but-

(ao3)

“A firefighter is down!”

The words echo in Buck’s ears as his pounding head tries to make sense of the scene around him. Of the screams and cries that sound so far away compared to the ringing beneath his skull; of the cold, hard pavement pressed up against his chest; of the weight on his back, holding him in place as he struggles to move.

“A firefighter is down!”

A trickle of something warm runs down his forehead, into his eyebrows. When he reaches up to touch it, his fingertips come away red. His palms are, too; scraped raw from their impact with the asphalt.

Why is he bleeding?

What is he doing on the ground?

He struggles against the arm thrown over his back, pinning him down. Tries to place those battered hands beneath him and push himself up, but the weight on top of him keeps him in place. The voice that it belongs to speaks to him, but he can’t strain to hear it underneath the chaos in his mind.

“A firefighter is down!”

The phrase slowly starts to register as he mulls it over again and again. Somebody’s hurt -is it him?

No. Other than a scrape on his forehead and an ache behind his eyelids, he feels fine. But when he shifts his head to the left, directs his gaze underneath the truck they’ve sheltered themselves behind, he sees a figure lying there, motionless. That form is so familiar; the hands that lay palm up, twitching, are ones he’s worked with before. Ones that he’s pressed a cool bottle of beer from his own fridge into. Ones that held his in one of the worst moments of his life, and pulled him to safety.

“A firefighter-”

-Eddie.

Oh god, it’s Eddie.

It all comes rushing back suddenly, all at once. The call, the kid. His conversation with Eddie being interrupted by the unmistakable sound of shots ringing out. The way the captain of the 133 had grabbed him and pulled him to safety, but not before he caught a glimpse of Eddie falling to the ground as the bullet pierced his chest.

The panic that overtakes him as the memories flash through his mind is all encompassing. It lodges a lump so deep in his throat that he can barely choke out a breath around it, each inhale ragged and painful as it strains to reach his lungs beneath the weight of his body still pressed against the pavement.

But he can’t stay put. He has to get to Eddie.

He finally wrenches himself from the captain’s grasp, rushing towards Eddie on his hands and knees despite the shouts of protest. He all but collapses next to him, frantically reaching out to check his pulse, all the while taking in the sight of him, and Buck can’t help but feel as if he’s had this nightmare before.

Eddie’s skin is pale; eyes glassy as he blinks up at him. His skin is cold to the touch, the warmth seeping out of it with each moment Buck’s fingertips linger on his neck. He looks confused, and distraught, and so damn terrified that Buck would do anything to go back to the moments when an incident like this was nothing but a horrible, far-off possibility.

“Buck?” Eddie chokes out, the sound quiet and wet.

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck says tearfully. “I’m right here. Just stay still.”

He reaches a hand out to Eddie’s chest, where he saw the bullet make its impact, horrified at the amount of bright red that shines on it when he pulls back. “Oh god,” he sobs. “I have to stop the bleeding, Eddie, I can’t-”

“Bleeding?” Eddie scowls, lifting his head slightly. “Buck, what- I don’t-” His eyes widen, filling with tears as he catches sight of the blood pooling on his chest. “Fuck,” is all he says, dropping his head back down, and Buck might almost find it comical how very Eddie the reaction was had they been in a different situation.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says, and desperately hopes that it’s true. “I just- I have to-” God, he can’t think. Why can’t he think? Years of experience in the field and yet-

Eddie’s right hand twitches again, like he’s trying to reach out but can’t quite muster up the energy. Buck takes it in his free one, pressing the familiar skin to his own torn-up palm, finding that the sting doesn’t matter as long as he gets to keep Eddie in his grasp.

“Listen to me,” Eddie rasps, voice thick. “Chris- I need you to look after him.”

“I will,” Buck promises. “Until you’re all better, Eds, I’ll be there.” And after that, too.

A ghost of a smile crosses over Eddie’s face, and Buck hopes that the gods he’s always been doubtful of don’t hold it against him when he prays he’ll get to see it brighten again.

“What did we ever do to deserve you, huh?” Eddie asks, gazing up from under hooded eyes. “You always- you do...so much.”

Buck's eyes fill with tears as squeezes Eddie’s hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss against the back; the only part of his body that Buck can reach without fear of damaging.

“Well,” he says. “You’ll have lots of time to make it up to me.”

Eddie simply smiles again. Doesn’t agree -doesn’t promise. Just stares at him with that familiar, kind gaze until his eyelids slip closed without warning, making Buck’s skin go cold.

“Hey, no. Eddie- Eddie!”

His eyes don’t snap back open like Buck so miserably pleads that they will. He stays still. Unmoving. A stark contrast to the way Buck’s body trembles from where he kneels beside him.

He vaguely registers the shouts being tossed over his head, and the sirens approaching from the distance, but it all feels far, far away.

Right here, right now, all that exists is them; Eddie, lying motionless beneath him as Buck tries to keep the cold, unforgiving concrete from seeping up too much of his blood, and desperately hopes that wasn’t their final goodbye.

#this only vaguely fits the prompt #cause it's not really a KISS kiss #but it's fine #i do what i want #i also have no idea if i even really like this but my brain wouldn't shut up about it #buddie fic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #4x13 spec #katewrites #kiss prompts #herogrant #tw blood #tw gun violence

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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The Prologue

a/n: hi! wtsgd is finally here, and i’m so incredibly excited to finally put this story out there and for you all to read it. thank you for showing interest; your support mean the absolute world to me. this is just a little preview of what’s to come, and i hope you stick around <3 official chapters will be posted starting may 1st and every saturday following. please don’t hesitate to come into my inbox to chat about this story because sweet messages and showing your interest in this story will encourage me to keep on writing. i love you all!

thank you to @sunflowers-styles @hunflowers & @stylesloveclub for supporting me and looking over this <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | prologue word count: 1k

come talk to me about WTSGD! i’d love to know your thoughts!

The brown cognac wooden chair squeaked beneath her as the lopsided chair switched legs, shifting its weight onto the back left leg. Her body rested against the back of the chair, looking down at the plate of food provided by the Chinese restaurant.

She pushed the peas, that were cooked into the fried rice, off to the side of her plate, only for his chopsticks to pick at them one by one, bringing them into his mouth. It was normal for them to do that. Despite how things had been for the past couple of months, it was a habit for him to pick off the peas from her plate because she didn’t like them, and he loved them way too much for his own good.

Occasionally looking up, she glanced at the person in front of her to see if he'd meet her stare, but she got nothing; he’s looking down at the plate of food, mindlessly stirring the contents around before bringing them up to his mouth. He would put his chopsticks down and grab the glass of iced water as he sipped through the straw, all without looking at her. It was as if he would burn into her stare if he did, so he ended up looking elsewhere—at the people in the restaurant, at the wall of frames above them that he’s looked at for years as he was trying to see if there were any new additions to the growing wall.

They ate in silence, the only noise filling the space between them was the sound of the utensils scraping the glass plates, the banging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen with the occasional loud flame that would ignite in the wok when they were cooking a stir-fry, and the chatter from locals sitting around their table, gossiping about the latest news.

This place used to feel like home to her; the inviting smell of authentic Chinese food made from love, the feel of comfort that she got every time she stepped inside the restaurant; and the noise didn’t used to bother her, but now, it all seemed too loud.

He was supposed to be someone that she wanted to sit next to, someone she wanted to reach out and hold hands with, someone she didn’t want to lose physical or emotional contact with because of the distance and time that separated them. He was supposed to be someone she couldn’t stop talking about—talking to, most importantly. But as she sat in front of him, she looked at him completely clueless, not knowing what she felt for this man anymore. She didn’t know him anymore.

It was different from when they first met. Life before the chaos consisted of nonstop conversations, the laughter, the oversharing and invading each other’s lives that she was in disbelief that that was once her life. Instead of the loudness between them, it was the silence that filled the air instead.

Luckily, the silence was filled, not by either of them but by the owner of the Chinese restaurant, named Kai, who was happy to serve them for all these years. My best and most good-looking customers, she would say all the time in her heavy accent every time they dined in.

“Everything good?” Kai raised her thumb up, checking on the broken couple. They both looked up, nodding their heads. “Hey,” Kai said to the man; he raised his brows. “When are you gonna marry her?” Kai pointed at the young woman across from him.

He couldn’t say anything nor did he even dare to say anything. He knew that marriage was out of the question with how she looked at him—so loveless and with no excitement. So, all he did was breathe out a fake chuckle, hoping that Kai wouldn’t press the question even further. And she didn’t, fortunately, because she was being called from the other side of the restaurant, assuming it was her friend by how they greeted each other with high-fives and how they spoke Chinese to one another with smiles on their faces.

They were both relieved Kai had left their table, no matter how much they both adored her; the silence seemed to have been better off swirling into the air rather than answering Kai’s question. But as she sat in front of him, there was not a single thought she wanted to talk to him about. She assumed the time apart would make her want to tell him things, to talk about everything she’d been up to, and anything that came to mind since she hadn’t heard his voice in so long. Considering that she barely talked to him over the phone, she assumed that she wanted to tell him everything that she’s been working on, things she’d discovered, places she’d been to, or just the mere thought of listening to him ramble and talk mindlessly. But she didn’t feel that anymore.

It was mind-boggling to compare and contrast to what it was three years ago when they sat in the restaurant. In the middle of their very quiet lunch, she was hit with a sudden urge to let out the one thing she’d been holding in.

The next words that had come out of her mouth were quite literally glass-shattering and loud. She had pondered on the thought for quite some time now, and she only hoped that he wouldn’t be surprised by it because anyone with two eyes and a brain knew that it was inevitable. They just weren’t the same anymore.

“Harry, I think we should break up.”

And then the extra plate the customers right next to them had asked for had dropped in between their tables, shattering the old and clean plate into pieces. But neither of them were startled from the loud noise nor did they look at the impact of the glass that had spread across the tiled, white floor of the restaurant. They simply stared at one another as she waited for his response to her words.

And luckily, he wasn’t surprised by them.

please come into my inbox with your thoughts and feelings! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #boyfriend!harry

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blackcatanna · 2 years ago

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Yesterday, I allowed myself a break to play some visual novel games I have had on my list for ages (DRAMAtical Murder (Japanese yaoi) and Ladykiller in a Bind (Canadian lesbeans) for Important Research Purposes. I did one playthrough of each (one route, Koujaku's and Beauty's), each taking about five hours. There is absolutely no reason to compare them or pit them against each other BUT I'M GONNA just because I happened to play them both yesterday >:D

Important to note that I enjoyed them both very much! Idk what I'm gonna write yet but any criticism I dish out does not undermine that. Congratualations to the developers for making good games!

Here be spoilers...

Humour:

Both games looked pretty smutty going in so I was expecting some sexiness but was surprised by how many times they both made me laugh out loud! The characters in DMMD are so funny when they need to be and I loved the banter between the Beast (PC) and her twin brother in LiaB.

I really loved them both but the humour in LiaB was a little bit more to my taste because of more characters being comfortable with their sexuality and having some really funny banter about being gay. I'm not really into yaoi so there may have been yaoi humour that went over my head in DMMD but both games had some lovely pop culture references. I think that the DMMD localization team did a wonderful job ("STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM")!

Sexy Times:

I expected DMMD to be waaaaay smuttier than it was, based on how it was advertised and CGs I have seen in the wild. In contrast, LiaB had A LOT of sex content but I feel like the characters in DMMD had better chemistry. Other than that comparison, I want to talk about the sex scenes in each game seperately...

In LiaB, everyone is horny for the PC. Well, most people are... just SO HORNY. And for each other too. This aspect took me out of it a bit... Like, I would like to see relationships grow and develop a bit more before everyone starts making out, especially since I started to dislike some of the characters. Maybe it's because I'm demisexual but I found it hard to relate to the PC being AS horny as she is for everyone all the time.

Like, I was interested in the Photographer but saw her be really rude to the staff and was completely put off. Then, there was a scene where I had the option to cruelly brush her off, kiss her or a third more neutral option (or so I thought) but you STILL end up making out and I was just goin, "No no no! Ew!" like a grossed out toddler. Should have coldly told her to fuck off. This is probably not the game's fault because this has happened to me before in other games where I have picked what I thought was a neutral or platonic option and ended up making out with someone XD

Then there's the kink stuff! I completed Beauty's route so I saw a lot of kinky fuckery! :D I do appreciate that this game took the time to really explore a more healthy side of BDSM. A lot of visual novels tend to flirt with BDSM through explicitly non-con content and, the more I have bonded with the characters, the more it squicks me out, so it was really refreshing to see safe, sane and consensual BDSM practices being explored in sexy way! Aftercare is very sexy and romantic! Carefully exploring someone's body and turn ons is really hot! Generally, it was very good.

There were a few moments which made me uncomfortable though (during the Beauty's route). At the beginning, Beauty gives the Beast (PC) a "safe word" but you are never given the opportunity to use it, Beast even bragging to her brother at the start of the story that she never used her safe word.

The sex scenes are very immersive and interactive, which is cool, but there were a few moments where I would have used the safe word if I had had the choice. For example, Beauty tells Beast to shave off her body hair. This made me really uncomfortable. It was only the second scene or something and it felt like crossing a boundary. However, there was a dialogue option where you refused by suggesting it was anti-feminist. So, I tried that and the Beauty gives you some patronising line about how you're just using feminism as a shield to hide your embarassment and slaps Beast, who humbly shaves herself. I couldn't enjoy the rest of that scene, unfortunately.

So, the amount of interactivity is a double edged sword! Being immersed is great but can backfire if suddenly something potentially triggering happens and you can't stop it. Just something to consider. Don't give me the option to protest if the game's just going to dismiss it and call me a bad feminist.

There were six sex scenes with The Beauty but I would have preferred fewer but more options, so it felt like Beast was having some input in how each scene went, rather than everything Beauty did just magically and surprisingly turning Beast on just so much. That's just my preference though. Generally, I think it was done really well but the sex scenes weren't my favourite part of the game, even though they took up a lot of it (the humour was my favourite part).

NOW, DRAMAtical Murder! Speaking of popular visual novels with explicit non-con X_X ... Yeah... One of the main love interests is introduced as he orders his men to gang rape the PC while he sits and watches. O_O This is in the common route near the beginning so it's unavoidable. Fortunately, the PC escapes in the nick of time (after being stripped :( ).

Now, I am not here to evaluate morality or condemn games for exploring controversial topics, just explain how things make me FEEL. This made me feel really ANGRY but at that character (not the developers), which is a good thing, I think! I want to feel strong emotions as I play games! However, I will probably not be playing his route! Fuck that guy. Apparently, if you choose his route, he rapes the PC repeatedly so... ya... I haven't played that route, though, so let's move on from that!

I played Koujaku's route and there is some non-con licking and groping while he's in the grip of some sort of tattoo-induced animalistic rage XD which sure is a sentence to rival The Demon Arms of Horniness (also, Koujaku is Aoba's (PC) childhood friend but his route is done waaaay better than Iba's in Hakuoki imo).

To be honest, I'm still kind of confused about how I feel about that scene. When he first pinned Aoba down, I was like... uwu but then when Aoba starts to say no (and you know he means in because you're in his head), I did start to feel a bit ill.

The rest of the sex scenes were lovely and wholesome, though XD The voice acting is really good and there wasn't too much giggling from me at awkward slorping sounds (definitely some though, I am only human) Can't speak to the other routes, though. Or bad endings but I have seen pictures and HOLY FUCKING SHIT XD. Ngl, I LOVE a really harrowing bad ending but what I love even MORE is when you're too in love with the characters to go through the ordeal of watching them suffer in a bad ending, which is how I felt.

Characters:

I either fell in love with or wanted to strangle every character in DMMD within a few lines of their dialogue. They were all so well written omg! I genuinely cried when I thought Granny might die because I love her so much. Like I said, I thought that this game was going to be way smuttier than it was and I was impressed by how much love was put into all the non-fuckable characters, old and young. It made the world (and Aoba's life) feel so real and precious. Obsessed. TEACH ME YOUR WAYS.

I didn't bond with the LiaB characters as much, except for the Beauty who also made me cry. Love her <3 and her relationship with Beast is pretty compelling. Most of the characters are assholes, which I am normally on board with, but they often felt a bit one note. I did really enjoy Beast's asshole brother. I actually liked him more than her, but I feel like we have more in common so maybe I am biased.

I got tired of The Slut's "I am a massive slut" routine pretty quickly, quickly got annoyed by The Lieutenant and President's bullshit, hated watching The Photographer be rude to The Boss (or maid but idk why because she literally never does anything a maid would do) and... idk... who else was there? The Boy, whatever. Some dudebro cousin. Oh yeah the Stalker. Don't like her. Her fashion makes me ill and her snivelling attitude makes me want to squash her like a bug. Am I a bad person? Maybe XD

I am 26 so it's probably surprising that one of my favourite characters in LiaB was The Boss. I enjoyed her video game references, great hair, air of authority, unflappability, fashion and endless patience for dickhead rich kids. Maybe part of the reason I didn't bond with these characters as much as the DMMD ones is that it's high school characters and I really don't like anything set in a high school. This was better because it was set on a cruise ship but still... I guess I'm just too oooooooold...

It's interesting that, in both games, the non-romanceable characters were some of my favourites and I appreciate them both for making those characters so compelling. I just think that DMMD's characters were better fleshed out and well written. LiaB was still quite well written, I think, but I just couldn't relate to a lot of the characters.

Art (my beloved):

I hate to say this but I don't like the LiaB art style. I think that it's better in the CGs than the sprites, especially when a character is in profile. I enjoyed all of the characters' different outfits, though! Like, I hated a lot of the outfits (STALKER) but I loved that the characters had different outfits for different days and saying that I hated some of the fashion choices is not a criticism of the art. It's perfectly fine for characters to wear things I consider ugly af, just like in real life. Anyway, there was lots to enjoy but, yeah, not an art style for me. I'm not going to go into too much detail though because it would probably end up being mean, knowing me X_X and I am sure plenty of people will despise my art style!

DMMD's artstyle was so gooooood! I loved the detail in the backgrounds! I loved the stupid Jerry Blain logo on Aoba's jacket! I love the huge smiley face 69 sign in the shop, I love the beautiful characters and cute, cute animals! BUT... we need to talk about the fashion. Wtf is Noiz wearing??? And the two creepy Yakuza "not twins". I actually did enjoy the weird fashion but how am I supposed to take Noiz's route seriously while he's wearing that stupid bobble hat??? But yeah, the art was lovely!

Of course, nothing is perfect but I was really impressed by all the cool stuff in the game, like the Rhyme battle and little pixelart sequences. There's a bit where you see Clear pummeling some brainwashed gangsters and it turns into a comic. Loved that. I also love how the game pans over the CGs as the dialogue progresses or fips back and forth between a CG and the standard backgrounds as the text calls for it. They really impressed me, ngl.

Gameplay:

DMMD's gameplay was pretty minimal compared to LiaB's. I was basically just along for the ride in DMMD, rather than having to make any important decisions, which is fine but not as intriguing.

In LiaB, you have to avoid suspicion with dialogue choices (you're pretending to be your brother), win votes and try and romance whoever, so there's more for a player to think about. It's pretty fun! There are a lot of dialogue choices, which is really nice! I definitely picked some nice options even though they offered not tangible benefit but raised my suspicion level, which is a sign that I was pretty immersed in the story.

I am glad that the game with the votes was in there at the beginning because it gave me some direction but I had other priorities by the end of the game (which is a good thing).

I like that it tells you what you're likely to get from each dialogue option. The UI is good! Well, I still don't know what some of the UI elements actually mean but it can't be that important! It took me waaaaay too long to work out that a dialogue option will fade right before it disappears for good but that's actually very helpful.

I didn't mention that the dialogue options are in the middle of conversation. Often, the conversation will just continue without you if you don't click anything and new options will appear! This is pretty neat! And there are still consequences if you just stay suspiciously silent, so that still kind of counts as a choice!

Conclusion:

Them's me thoughts! Both very fun and interesting games which made me cry (win)! Both very witty and sexy! Both played by me yesterday! Both (DMMD announcer voice) QUEEEEEER (yay)!

#Anna plays games #Important research #rambling

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gojoscloset · 4 years ago

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Stand Still.

Geto Suguru x F!Reader Angst!

Synopsis: Geto allows his insecurities to take over his mind resulting in him hurting your feelings when you show a little too much interest in Gojo.

Please read the notes at the bottom uwu ❣️

Warnings: ANGST! Swearing???? DIDNT PROOF READ LOL

PT. 2

❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

You stood in the living room you shared with your boyfriend, the usual loving and welcoming atmosphere was no longer there. The reds and oranges you felt when you spent time with him was now replaced with emotions that felt like muggy shades of blues and grays. *

Everything felt like it was slowed down, like you had just witnessed everything in slow motion.

You looked into Geto’s eyes filled to the brim with bewilderment. Chest heaving as the remainder of adrenaline rushed through him. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, You've never seen him this worked up. You have never seen him this...mean.

Every last word he spat out was Accusatory. Harsh. Unfiltered. All the words came from a place of insecurity, an insecurity even he didn’t know he had.

It took you a minute to process everything that was said, well rather spat, to you. It was like your mind couldn’t fathom the fact that your sweet boyfriend stood before you in the aftermath of an emotional bomb he just dropped.

You knew this would happen at some point. You knew that relationships came with obstacles that you would have to face together. You knew that, but you were so hopeful that you would be able to talk things through like adults.

You two were always so adamant about communicating, and speaking up when something is bothering you, promising each other to put pride to the side and speak up and compromise on whatever the issue may be.

All it takes is one to fuck it up.

You finally processed what he said to you, the weight of his words crushed you into a million pieces. The heat reached your face and the stinging in your eyes was what made you finally look away.

You plopped down on the couch giving yourself a moment before you looked back up at him.

“I...” You approached with caution as you spoke, afraid he would cut you off as he has been since the argument started. Spewing Words as sharp as a knife not allowing you to get a word in edgewise and raising his voice over your calm one in order to try to get his point across, and oh did he get it across.

“You……..it’s…….Uh….” You lifted a finger up. Silently asking Geto to give you a moment to gather your words. Quickly you looked away ,your tears beginning to flow, not seeming to stop anytime soon. But still, you couldn’t talk, the lump in your throat stopping you, words only coming out in hiccups.

You cursed yourself for not being able to hold them in long enough to explain how you felt about the situation. About his accusations. Cursed yourself for not being able to speak freely, or be upset without looking like a crybaby.

Getos anger diminished the instant he saw the tears roll down your face. His knitted brows relaxed and his eyes softened at the sight of you, shaking as you tried to speak your mind. Unaware of the weight his words had.

He has seen you worked up and upset like this countless times, but never because of him. To say the guilt hit differently was an understatement.

You took a deep and shaky breath and held it for a few seconds. You were quite surprised at the fact that Geto didn’t move or say anything to interrupt you the entire time.

How long have you two been here?

“I tried so hard to avoid this, Suguru..... I looked past my insecurities….pushed the doubts to the side and all of that so you could receive my love without obstacles….without me projecting my fears onto you and the relationship.” You somehow managed to speak shakily of course, voice cracking almost the entire time.

He internally cringed at the formality, the lack of pet names made his heart wrench in pain, reminding him how bad he really messed up.

“And to know that you feel this way about me...and to know that my efforts are evidently not reciprocated...hurts like a mother fucker..”

You covered your mouth, eyes on the wall beside you, still unable to look at him.

“But honestly Geto… what hurts the most is that I already know you could do better…” you rolled your eyes upwards, dropping more tears and shook your head, your own insecurities laying themselves out on the table.

Geto’s eyes widened then immediately his expression turned to a pained one, remembering the words he spat in the heat of the moment. **

‘If I would’ve known that you would turn into Satoru’s little cheerleader, ready to kiss his ass whenever he came around, then I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend!! I could’ve and should’ve done wayyy better I swear!’

For someone who was talking so much shit five minutes ago, he found himself at a loss for words.

There was a lump in his throat , and when did his mouth turn dry?

Was it when he recalled the things he said after that? Mentions of how many opportunities he had in the duration of your relationship in order to hit you where it hurt most?

Or was it when he mentioned that ‘Gojo wouldn’t date you anyway’ in attempts to mask the underlying jealousy he had at the very thought of you falling for the man who could quite literally do anything.

Who could have everything.

Who had the world crafted specifically for him.

“and I always wondered…” he snapped out of his thoughts and his brows furrowed once again, creating a displeased look. He was disgusted with himself, disgusted that he selfishly ran his mouth without considering your feelings.

“Like….what I could have possibly done to have been chosen by you? Geto Suguru….chose me? Of all people.” You wiped tears away from your face, you looked so small doing so, Geto wished he was the one wiping those tears, but he couldn’t move. His feet betraying his commands. Knees weak knowing he did this to you.

“And for you to even think that I would betray you and break your trust.” It was your turn to speak now, holding in so much up until this point, however you did not raise your voice, nor did you cause a scene. You loved him way too much for that.

“Geto Suguru, a man the gods have blessed not just with looks but with a heart of gold..dating me? And you think I would throw all of that away to be with your best friend?” You choked on a couple of sobs, continuously wiping your tears away, seriously wondering if you have ever cried this hard in your life.

The fact that you still somehow managed to praise him while scolding him made his blood run cold. Guilt through the roof, enough to make his fingers cold and shake slightly by his sides. A stark contrast compared to his words.

‘What have I done?’

It was no surprise to him that you were still somehow being kind despite your anger. You were kind, not nice. ***

The love was there and he knew it, he felt it. Because if it were anybody else the results would’ve been different.

“I’m...sorry if I make you feel that way...but please know it was not in my intentions to hurt you ..” You finally looked at him while apologizing, you made sure he knew you were being as genuine as possible.

You pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way to the bedroom. Geto’s eyes followed you, but still he couldn’t not move.

‘Move you fucking idiot!’

A Switch in his brain went off as soon as you were out of his sight. He sped walked in your direction, but he was a little too late. You locked the door behind you just before he was able to put himself in between the door.

“Y/n! Please let me in! I’m sorry!” The knob shook as he tried the door. He knew it would be locked but he’d be damned to let you go through this alone. He already did enough damage, he was determined to at least try and fix this.

The knob shook harder and soon the whole door shook. He slammed his hands against the wood and called out your name desperately begging you to let him in.

You ignored the cries to the best of your abilities, stepping away from the door. The sounds of his voice begging for you made you want to throw up, it hurt so much.

“Y/n please...I just want to talk..” his voice cracked and you began to sob quietly just at the mere sound. You wanted to open the door, you really really did, but at the same time you didn’t want to see him.

He was adamant though. He could hear you try to muffle the sobs on the other side and that’s what put him into overdrive.

“Move away from the door!” He commanded, kicking it down easily, startling you in the process. Thankfully he gave you time to step away before doing so, and his heart broke again at the sight of you.

Your eyes were dull but still streaming tears, but the duffle bag slung over your shoulder full of your items made him feel so powerless.

“Hey hey hey……what are you doing..” his eyes desperately scanned your figure, moving from the bag to your eyes then to the room, noticing drawers were left open and things tossed around the bed.

“...W-Where are you going…?” His voice was small but he stood his ground in the doorway, blocking the exit unintentionally but intentionally.

You didn’t look at him, but more so past him. Your eyes were on him but they weren’t on him.

“I’m going home for a little bit, until I’m-“

“What do you mean? Home..is here..”he cut you off. Again his voice was small, not matching with his towering form that slowly began to deflate when he noticed how the love in your eyes was nowhere to be found.

You sighed and placed a hand on your temple. He cut you off again, and you didn’t want to do this anymore. You didn’t want to fight him anymore.

“Suguru. You know what I mean. I’m going to my paren-“

“No!” He yelled, causing you to flinch. “You’re not leaving me!” Geto snatched the bag from your grasp and unzipped the bag, he made his way into the room and dumped the contents into an already opened drawer, a majority of the clothes and items dropping to the floor but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to lose you.

His breathing was heavy again, and tears threatened to drop. Oh how you wished you hadn’t seen the way his eyes looked at you.

“Suguru...please…” you cautiously approached the bag he flung on the bed, and repacked the bag slowly, afraid of him snapping again.

“Can we Please just talk about this?” He forcefully grabbed you by the forearms, pulling you away from the duffle bag and pushed you up against a wall, not in a harsh way, but in a way that felt desperate.

“Please let me explain myself, I didn’t mean anything I said I-“ he tried spilling out what he had to say before you tried pushing him away, but now it was his turn to be interrupted.

“I know, Suguru…I know..but before we talk about this...I really need to clear my head..Otherwise I won’t be able to do things in a rational way...and you know I can’t do that if I have you around to influence my thoughts.”

Your eyes searched for his and you regretted it, you were feeling so many things but your eyes held no emotion. However, seeing the way he looked down at you, hair messy and in his face from going awol earlier, his face flushed from the raw display of emotion brought life back into your eyes.

Tears dropped on your cheeks when you looked up at him. That was enough to get the waterworks going again.

He never realized how afraid he was of losing you until now. It never occurred to him that this would even be something to happen in your relationship until this very moment.

He realized how much he fucked up, allowing his emotions to have snowballed into this big ass mess. You were always so open to talk about things, but he never took the opportunity because of his pride, and now the consequences of his actions are coming to bite him in the ass.

“I gotta go..” you whispered and easily got out of his grasp, he didn’t fight back, he knew he couldn’t change your mind once you had your mind set on doing something. Another reason he fell in love with you , another wave of regret.

He watched your form as you left, eyes never leaving your body.

You didn't look back and that was a sight that would haunt him in his dreams forever.

—————

**** notes:

* - in the paragraph where it talks about feeling colors

When I think of memories and how I felt, I associate them with colors, reds oranges, pinks, yellows green = warm/ happier memories

Shades of blue = cold, more depressive moments

So when it talks about y/n feeling the blue, gray atmosphere, it’s because the tension was so thick, the usual ‘red’ atmosphere was now ‘blue’ at the flip of a switch.

Lol super self indulgent

**- this fic is so self indulgent, I do this. Well used to, but when I used to get mad and things would get heated I won’t remember what I said or what I did because I was so upset.

***- to me, Being nice is superficial and being Kind comes from within.

——-

Hello! Welcome to my new blog!

I was GOJOSGLASSES

But something happened to my account and I think I’m being shadowed and I’m sooo sad cause I had a whole theme and master list (a short one but still) now I have to start over )^:

Anywho! Welcome! Requests are open and hopefully I’ll get around to moving the fics here or maybe just linking old ones but I think I may transfer them over here )^: big sad!

—————

Hello babies! Thank you for taking the time to read this!

This fic is super super self indulgent

I love Angst so much. I don’t know why LOL

Of course this is an Angst to fluff type stuff and I’ll get to part 2. When I feel like it

(Or if it’s highly requested) but I just felt like being extra dramatic.

Also LOLOLOL I love angst but please don’t leave your partner in the dark like this, communicate please. I’m just being extra dramatic because I love hurting myself with fics.

BAHAHA Also this Drabble thing was inspired by the song:

Stand Still - Sabrina Claudio

Very angsty and I feel like I’ll make more drabbles and stuff based off this song because I love love love it so much omg very sensual very sexy!

Thanks for reading!

#drabbles #fanfic #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru x reader #saturo gojo

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pseudofaux · 4 years ago

Note

Hey there pseu! Is it possible to get a drabble of dom comte punishing and spanking Arthur and mc please? maybe they were being naughty and bratty or Arthur got them both into trouble. everything else is up to you

I have to tell you that every time I have LOOKED at this ask my entire body has become HAPPY ♥️ This request is everythinnnnng, I really hope you will see and enjoy it! Thank you!

(Requests are closed, readers, but there are a lot to be filled in May and likely June, too! Feel free to follow along or just check in and enjoy as many as you like. A masterlist will go up when they are all completed.)

“Now, you know why you are both here,” le Comte says, sounding so disappointed that her shame goes to her toes and then rushes back up to her throat. “There is no replacing the marble you broke, the one you were specifically warned to be cautious around by Sebastian. And myself.”

Leonardo had warned them, too. And Isaac. They just hadn’t listened for more than the time it took to laughingly wave off the admonishments, too involved in their ridiculous game of tag to save themselves this trouble. She feels so foolish and repentant, standing beside Arthur in front of the owner of the house like schoolchildren. Her eyes go down, and the soft carpet of his room looks like it will soak up all of her tears and leave no trace of them.

And she will cry. She’s cried every other time they’ve been called in here. One way or another.

Arthur, on the other hand, rarely feels repentant after any kind of fun (at least, not right away). And though that lack of remorse is unwise before Comte, she knows Arthur will get her into trouble again, and again, and she’ll do no more than hesitate. Sometimes she’s the one that gets him into trouble, though he always takes the fall with a gallant wink.

Now he takes her hand. “Don’t fret, love,” he murmurs.

“You should fret,” Comte says, quietly and completely clearly. He is a man who does not need to be loud. “This is a punishment, and it should make you fretful, and turn your behavior for the better to avoid this in the future.”

Oh, but there is the dreadful thing that makes the inside of her belly twist. She does not want to avoid this. She has no desire to break things— truly, her remorse for the statue is sincere and she will try to find something else for the space even though Comte says the piece is irreplaceable— but she has no desire to not be called to his room with Arthur. For punishment. Do they know it? Comte knows so much else of the world, and it feels like he knows everything she loves and enjoys. She dares to look up at him.

“Just look at me, love,” Arthur says.

“She’ll do no such thing, and you will not speak out of turn again,” says their host, dangerously quiet. “Cherie, when I tell you to, you’ll close your eyes, but you will not hide from this,” he says. His voice is less sharp for her, but it has so little of his usual warmth that she feels the absence like actual frost on her soul.

She hangs her head and nods. “I won’t hide,” she says, and then she straightens up to prove it.

Arthur is not so obedient. “Comte, really,” he tries, but she sees the Comte in question fix him with a flat golden glare that is like a fist to her ribs even though it isn’t aimed at her.

“Consider this your last warning not to speak again unless you want this to be so much worse for yourself, Arthur,” Comte murmurs. His voice gets quieter the angrier he gets-- he is not playing any kind of back and forth right now. She looks down at the carpet again, trying to be appropriately submissive and hoping Arthur will join her. “She will only take a few spankings,” Comte says. “But you will take as many as I think you need to learn your lesson, and as we all know, you’ll break long before my wrist does.”

Arthur says “Ah,” and laughs weakly.

Comte steps in front of her and sighs. “Look at me,” he says. Her wet eyes go to his immediately and she can see how he softens, then steels himself. Even though the odd cocktail of emotions running through her is primarily shame and excitement, there’s a sadness that makes her lip tremble.

He touches her mouth very, very gently, and it stills all of her. “You’re not trying to avoid punishment, are you?” he asks.

“Never!” she is quick to protest. “No!” Not being punished would be a worse punishment than she can imagine.

“That’s good,” he tells her, and pats her cheek with a tiny bit of warmth, enough to sustain her. “Lean over the bed then, darling, and let us get through this and put it behind us.”

She nods tearfully and goes. She hears him whispering to Arthur while she settles herself and flips up her skirt, attempting to make the movement more graceful than desperate. Her feet shuffle apart the way she knows they should and cheek and chest and belly sink into the softness of le Comte’s fine mattress (it used to be higher-- she thinks he somehow lowered it for her). It smells like lavender and his cologne. It smells like time itself.

The scent intensifies when Arthur settles himself on the bed in front of her. He sits with his legs crossed and she wishes she could sit in his lap. He gives her an apologetic smile just before she feels Comte’s hand on her backside, cupping the curve.

“Is ten too many?” he asks.

“No,” she is quick to answer. “It is not. I broke something priceless.”

He hums thoughtfully and then says “That is true. Twenty, then. But no more than that if you are sorry.”

“I am,” she sniffles. “Please accept my apology. I am so sorry and I regret what I did.”

Arthur makes a noise of concern but he seems to know better than to move.

“That’s appropriate. I want you to repeat your apology for each of these,” he says softly. She knows his warmth at her back as he leans over her and strokes her arm where it lays against his bed. Comte whispers “I want to be able to believe you are sincere, sweet girl. Close your eyes now.”

She nods tightly, swallows, and does as he says. He briefly nuzzles at her cheek—too briefly, but so much better than not at all— and then slips back onto his feet behind her.

“Arthur,” he says, with none of the gentleness he used to speak to or touch her just a moment ago.

“Yes... sir,” says Arthur, words stilted but respectful. And then he says “Please, ah... one,” and Comte’s hand smacks immediately against the back of her right thigh. Her entire body feels it lift her feet off the floor. The hit is like flying in more than one way, tiny fizzles of pain and heat tingling in her skin as her feet regain their place on the carpet.

“I am so sorry and I regret what I did,” she whispers, fisting the duvet.

“Two,” Arthur says. Nothing happens. “Oh, right, sorry-- please,” he says, and then the hit comes.

“Watch your tone,” Comte says when the crack of the hit has passed. His hand massaging the place he just spanked her is so, so warm compared to the ice of his voice.

“Iamsosorry,” she says, trembling. “And I regret— what I did.”

“I know you do, dear one. Keep minding your manners like this, it pleases me so much more than you breaking art in our home.”

She makes it to six before the burn of the slaps makes her cry as much as his soothing voice does. The corrective attention he pays her and the way it contrasts with his chill toward Arthur don’t feel fair, but they do feel very, very good.

“Do you think you can continue to apologize?” Comte asks.

She shakes her head and wails, stumbling through an apology for not being able to apologize. She wants this to continue so, so very badly. She is able to say that much.

“Arthur,” Comte says tiredly. “I should not have to remind you.”

“Oh— yes,” Arthur says, moving his legs on the bed. “Comte, sir,” he adds. She hears the silver clink of his belt buckle and sobs in gratitude.

“Arthur is going to gag you now, sweet girl. This is for your benefit, not his, because I see how contrite you are. And I know you want to continue.”

She nods and cranes her neck as though it will help her get to him faster. Arthur’s huff of flattered laughter lands on her like a pillow stuffed with the lightest, softest down.

“But if he comes down your throat he won’t get to eat you out while he receives his spanking,” Comte says, “And since I’m going to take these off now,” he continues, slipping fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slowly pulling them down, “And I know how that agitates you, and how much he loves your mouth when you are getting a spanking, I wonder if Arthur will be able to hold out.”

His tone is so breezy, unconcerned. She knows better. His deviousness is there, it is just as soft-footed as a courtier. He can’t be happy about the marble but he likes this just as much as she does. Just as much as Arthur does, if the way Arthur is always breaking the rules is any indication.

Arthur doesn’t get to say more than “Here, sweet,” before his breath turns to a hiss as she takes the cock he feeds her and sucks as hard as she can from the very first. A startled cry comes out of him as his hands land in her hair and start moving her the way he moves himself.

“Seven, if you please,” Arthur gasps, and Comte mutters something she can’t catch before his hand comes down heavy on her naked cheeks. It pushes her a little farther onto the cock in her mouth, gets it properly in her throat, and the way she gags makes Arthur swear.

“Mind your language or I’ll gag you the same way,” Comte warns so clearly she can hear it over her pulse thumping in her ears and the forlorn jangle of Arthur’s belt buckle. The idea is so incendiary that she moans, deep enough that it feels like the sound bounces back from her navel. It pulls an equally inarticulate sound from Arthur and she smiles all the way through eight even though eight is not gentle.

Nor nine. Ten is a tiny reprieve, and after it Comte drums his fingers on her freshly smacked skin in a way that makes her shiver so hard she thinks Arthur must feel it.

“Certainly... taking your time there, Comte,” Arthur says.

Comte hums at him exactly like a parent does when they are ignoring a child’s poor behavior. Arthur tosses his head back and his fingertips dig into her a little more. But Arthur is never rough. Dirty in spades, but he never, ever hurts her. And even when she pulls back to swallow and work her tongue at the sensitive spot high up under his tip, he doesn’t grip too tightly. He does blow out all his breath, though.

He sucks it back in so he can whine “Eleven. Please?”

Comte gives her eleven. It’s his arm moving the air that makes her realize she is sweating so much her back has dampened her blouse under her upturned skirt just before his hand makes contact. It lands hot and loud, the slap bending her soul as surely as it creases her skin. She loses time for awhile, letting Arthur do the counting as she takes from them both, and only comes back at eighteen, when a spank catches her low and up, pushing her so far she gags again and her face is squeezed in a telltale way.

Poor Arthur. He makes a soft, thick, lost sound and follows the feeling by pumping his hips toward her face. Her nose is buried in the dark blue hair of his belly, and she can smell the musk of a lusty man near his end.

“C-Comte?” he asks.

“I won’t be rushed by the likes of you. Your rushing is what got you here. Remember, now you won’t be able to touch her while you get your own spanking.”

There’s a moment of nothing but breath and grasping, and then Comte goes in for the kill.

“Serves you right, naughty.”

Arthur groans and his cum shoots into her mouth so fast it’s like a slap from the other direction, and after an initial cough she swallows and seeks out the rest. She knows better than to touch him, but he doesn’t seem to need it anyway. He’s already panting tightly and his hips are jerky.

“This will be nineteen,” Comte says calmly, and it’s nothing like the others, more of a love tap. It’s still enough to move her on Arthur while he’s at his most sensitive, which Comte seems to have been expecting because he laughs when Arthur whines and shies back from her. “Stay where you are,” he orders. “Not your turn yet.”

She slows herself and begins to kiss the side of his cock, gently licking away the mess.

Arthur stutters over “Twenty,” but when Comte responds “Exactly,” it’s so warm they both shudder, and it feels to her like the shaking from her shudder lasts all the way through the might of the last slap and then becomes the reverberation from the spank, deep down in her skin.

“I am so sorry,” she whispers, exhausted and exhilarated. “I regret what I did.” Arthur pats the side of her face.

“I know,” Comte says, hands stroking everywhere he spanked. “You took that beautifully.”

His kisses are even lighter than his strokes, and he keeps them that way. The contact means her pain can’t relax to fade, and greedily she never wants him to stop. He makes his mouth wide over her skin and scrapes his teeth over her so gently she whimpers. And then he says “Hands and knees, Arthur, where I can reach you. I don’t think you need your trousers any longer.”

While Arthur does as he’s told (and that’s such a beautiful sight, when he’s finally cowed, and he’s always so pretty after he comes), Comte turns her by her hip. “And you on your back, sweet. Find a space where the embroidery will keep you hurting.”

He is so good to her. She shuffles up a little and then tries shifting from side to side. Indeed, she can feel the exact shape of each petal beneath her. He’s giving her a tiny smile and she returns it with her entire heart. He fondles Arthur’s balls while he stares into her eyes and she is so pleased to be the center of his attention that she could coo.

Arthur is making a more strangled sound. When she glances over at him, his eyes are shut tight and he’s biting his lip. He still looks beautiful, the flush of orgasm soft on his cheeks. She wants to kiss him, but of course it’s not time for that. At all.

Respectfully as she has ever heard him, Arthur asks, “How many, sir?”

“Until I am done,” Comte says. “Perhaps you should pray this one has enough left in her to squeeze, that might spare you.”

Oh, she loves it when he talks about her like that, and she knows he is doing it on purpose-- he is not mad at her at all any more. As long as he lets her, she will squeeze him as hard as she possibly can.

“Is a little time traveler going to run in my house again?” He asks as he slides in, easy as sunlight through gauze. She grasps at his arms and whines at the fullness, always a little too much at first.

“No,” she says, even though she knows it’s not true. She does mean it right then. There will come a time, though, when doesn’t, or when she gets anxious for more of all this, and then she’ll act out just to catch his attention. And Arthur will probably be right there to help her. If he’s not, she’ll go get him.

He pulls back, out, and she whines at the emptiness. “I don’t believe you, cherie,” he says calmly, and he slaps Arthur so hard a noise of shock comes out of the other man’s throat, like a startled animal. She hopes he didn’t bite through his lip.

“I,” he says slowly, and spanks Arthur again. “Don’t. Believe. You.” Each word is accompanied by a smack of his palm or the back of his hand, and that twisted part of her belly would seethe in jealousy if she had not so recently been spanked herself.

Arthur’s moaning the way that means Comte is toying with his hole, and Comte is smiling the way that means he’s enjoying it. His smile widens as he presses his cock along her folds and slides it against her, up and down. Up and down. Not far from this agitation she feels every stitch of a many-petaled flower digging into her abraded flesh. There is so fierce a concentration of pleasure and pain, so near to each other, that she cries out like Arthur did even though she’s not startled at all.

“Once more,” Comte says. “I wonder, is a little time traveler going to run in my house again?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

His smile becomes dark and somehow even more beautiful and warm. He uses his free hand to hold himself so he can push inside her again. “And does she know what will happen when she does?”

“Yes,” she hisses, full and blissful.

“Does she know what will happen to Arthur here?” he asks. Arthur yelps. Comte is inside them both and she is so happy she could cry all over again.

“Yes,” she says.

“Then let us make this worth it,” Comte whispers as he grinds against her. Arthur makes a sound of need and then there’s the sound of a fierce slap. He begins to cry and she really does want to kiss his face, but she will not move for anything in the world, and Comte is in her like a needle, a pin, a spike to pierce her through and keep her in her place in the world.

Arthur hiccups and very respectfully asks “H-how many, Comte?”

“As I said,” Comte answers pleasantly, “Until I am done. Perhaps you might beg her to spare you, if you can manage it.”

Comte doesn’t give Arthur much space to manage it through the way he spanks him as he’s fucking her, but Arthur does babble out some broken pleading. Please, love, be good, please won’t you help him along, help me, help me, please.

She squeezes, as though she could do anything else when Comte’s thickness is pressing against all her walls. Please won’t you-- nnnngh-- squeeze him, sweet, hard as you can.

“She’s trying,” Comte says kindly, without a hint of exertion in his voice. “But I think you should beg more.”

Arthur does as he’s told, and so does she.

#ikevamp fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikevam fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp comte #ikevamp arthur #pseu slings #istg I went full ‘THE HILLLLLLLLLS ARE ALIIIIIIVE~’ when I saw this 😂♥️♥️♥️

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imaginationofacrazyfangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine You are All Might’s Personal Assistant

All Might truly is the fastest man on Earth.

“What do you mean he just left? Where could he have gone?” you shout.

The police officer shrugs giving you a pitying look. It makes you want to smack it off his young baby looking face. Unfortunately, that would be assault and you are pretty sure you’d get arrested…All Might’s personal assistant or not. Besides you don’t want to deal with the added stress of bad publicity, even if you get some joy out of it.

“Well, we just got a call about a robbery not too far from here. Maybe he went –“baby officer barely got the words out, before you sped off shouting a loud, “Thank you!”

Ask any personal assistant of a major superhero, what the most important ability needed for their job was, and they all answer: being able to always find your superhero. It may seem like a simple ability seeing how superheroes almost always made themselves known to the public (minus a few underground heroes like Eraserhead, who hated the spotlight), but, it isn’t so simple. Sure, you know how to easily find All Might, for that you just check online. After all, the All Might Watch Forum tends to keep a better update on the hero than the police did. No, the real trouble comes in figuring out how to get to where your hero is.

For almost all personal assistants this is the first pain of their job. Superhero’s often have their own means of transportation and vice versa for their sidekicks; personal assistants though generally consisted of people with average quirk abilities. Meaning while their bosses took to the skies, teleported, or ran at breakneck pace, they themselves took taxis-or in your case ran. Luckily for you, All Might’s next heroic save happened to be only a few blocks away. An annoyance still but manageable. You only pray now that he stays there. The hero has a horrible habit of leaving without a word.

Thankfully luck is on your side for the first time today. All Might is still there when you arrive. His loud boisterous laughter reminding those around him that everything is alright. Besides him, a bloody villain slumps over, tied in what looks like clothed nappies? Apparently, the robbery took places at a daycare of all places, or at least it did, if any of the cooing babies and swooning mothers had anything to say

Pushing your way through the crowds of excited reporters and citizens, you hear All Might’s too familiar boom of , “Fear not. Because I am here!”

You can’t help the bitter irritation rising in you. Fear not? Oh, someone is going to have something to fear. Boss or not, he’s totally going to hear it from you. However, the lecture gets put on pause as you finally make it to the front. All Might’s still there standing proudly in front of a disturbingly bland daycare front. Its simplistic lettering of ‘KIDZ LEARN ABC’S” contrasts against his glowing persona. Around him, toddlers and mothers alike drool trying for his attention, to which he spares a grin and handshake to each one.

The sight screams All Might. It is so pure, so kind, so friendly-you must take a picture for social medial! Sliding the portable camera out of your bag, you quickly snap a couple of pics. Job number three of being a hero’s personal assistant: run their social media accounts. Most heroes with personal assistants fall into one of two categories: they are either high in ranking or up and coming. Either way, they all need someone to manage their publicity stuff.

Despite the flash of the camera, All Might takes no notice of you. Probably due to all the ongoing flashes of media cameras around him. The attention comes with every save so he’s more than used to someone somewhere taking his picture. No, it’s not until some brown-haired reporter asks, “All Might, a word please?”

That you intervene letting your presence be known. “All Might is unfortunately needed elsewhere. So, any questions or requests for an interview about today’s current rescues can be forward to his agency.”

The blond-haired hero stiffens besides the reporter. Sweat begins to form on his face at the sight of you. As horrible as it sounds you take great pleasure in the panic on his face. Not many people scare the great Symbol of Peace. In fact, you can only really say two other people not including yourself, have the power to make the hero squirm.

“(Y/N)- I didn’t see you there.” The hero stutters uncharacteristically.

You shoot him your best glare, causing him to shrink back. No one will ever understand just why someone so comparably tiny and non-life threatening could have so much control over the hero. Villains came and went without him so much as breaking a sweat. Yet you with neither the power nor quirk to stop him, scare All Might.

“I saved a pre-school!” he babbled, picking up a random toddler. “See? Aren’t they the most precious thing you ever seen? Wouldn’t it be horrible if something happened to them?”

He is milking it, and he knows it. Not only does he sound like a bumbling idiot on camera, but the toddler he chose, smells something awful. Still All Might refuses to give up. Children are your weakness. Their gummy gooey smiles make you coo every time. In fact, if you weren’t his assistant, the hero is sure you’d be a teacher.

“All Might, we agreed on letting other heroes do the rescuing sometimes? Remember? Keeping the market open for others?” you press voice low.

‘ Keeping the market open for others,’ a code for ‘you’re going to run out of time.’ A hard to swallow truth, but the truth nonetheless. Not many people knew about his injury, his time limit, but you knew everything-almost everything. For your safety, he kept the truth behind his quirk a secret. His return to Japan/ his decision to take on teaching all hidden under the guise of searching for a successor.

“Yes, well-look at these chubby cheeks!” he replied, pushing the kid towards you. Again shameless, but did he really care? No. Last time All Might angered you, he sported a pink suit for two months. And while the hero didn’t discriminate against any color, the hearts and frills were too much. “Could I really risk the chance of another hero arriving on time?”

“All Might-“ you started only for the kid to cry, “All Might!” as well.

You glanced over at the toddler, eyes softening. Said hero couldn’t help but feel like the cat who ate the canary. Silently he cheered for the kid to continue. If they did a really good job, All Might would send them some signed memorabilia.

Shaking your head, you fought the doubt creeping within you. As preferable as it would be to just let the man off, you knew you couldn’t do it. Rescuing kids may take priority to most things, however not when there are other heroes perfectly capable of doing the job for him. “Don’t try and get out of this one. I’ve chased you to not two or three, but five different incidents.” You pressed. “Without flight, teleportation, or transportation! Do you know how hard it is for someone without a quirk or car to follow you?!”

All Might slumped slightly under the pressure of your lecture. Each escaping your mouth seemed to hit him worse than any supervillain could. “Not to mention you’re overdoing it again.” You lectured, ignoring the exasperated looks on his and everyone else’s face.

You knew how people viewed. Most PA’s tended to be shy docile beings pushed around by their heroes or ignored. In fact, the average years for a PA to work under a hero ranged from two to three years, before they either quit or got fired. Those who lasted longer tended to be outliers such as yourself; people not easily cowed by the awe of their employers. As for All Might’s view of you…he knew how much you truly cared about him. It was why he kept you around despite your lecturing and harsh tactics.

Having someone worry for him felt nice, especially given how he cared more about others than himself. A natural feeling obviously for heroes, but All Might ignored his health beyond that of usual heroes in your opinion. “You worry too much, (Y/N). I’m built to last.” He grinned, thumping his chest. “See?”

His words did nothing to quell your fear. From day one-even before the tragic accident you worried over him; almost as if he wasn’t the world’s greatest hero just another human being. It was strange considering how used to being worshipped by even his own friends, All Might was. Everyone saw only the smile and hero versus the man behind it. Yet you never did. To you, All Might was just a man with an extraordinary job and that…that felt nice.

“Come on (Y/N), let’s go home. I promise to leave the rest of the saving to the other heroes for today.” All Might grinned, patting your head.

You blinked cut off mid-rant. A warmth spread through your cheeks at the gesture, but you pushed it back. Falling in love with your hero was a big no-no in the world of PA’s. However could anyone really blame you when it came to such a selfless man like All Might?

#all might x reader #all might imagine #toshinori yagi x you #toshinori x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bhna x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acadamia oc #bnha imagine #mha imagine

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sou-ver-2-0 · 4 years ago

Text

“Midori is Meister’s son,” and other Sou theories

I’ve had a theory for a while that Original Sou is the son of Meister, the likely Mastermind behind the Death Game. I’ve alluded to this theory before, but I haven’t made a proper post for it until now.

I came up with the theory because it’s the easiest way to put Original Sou under Meister’s power and influence. It’s the simplest explanation I can think of for why Original Sou was both an Asu-Naro member and a planned Death Game participant. That’s a strange combination of things to be, but it’s not that strange if that’s what your father raised you to be…

However, there’s more to this theory than a mere hunch. In the first two chapters of YTTD, we learn the story of the Satous: Gashu the father, Kai the human son, and Rio Ranger the doll son. I believe that the story of the Satous is foreshadowing for the story of Sou’s own family.

Gashu is a villain dedicated to the cause of Asu-Naro. He raised Kai to be an Asu-Naro agent. Part of Kai’s job was to watch over Sara, a planned Death Game candidate; he grew to care for her. Kai becomes a participant himself and is one of the Game’s first victims. After Kai dies, we are introduced to Rio Ranger, a sadistic Floor Master. He is a broken doll who wears smiling masks. Rio Ranger is similarly fated to die, and Gashu is then revealed as the father.

Let’s try changing the names in that story. Meister is the main villain behind Asu-Naro. He raised Sou Hiyori to be a top agent. While on the job, Sou developed a close relationship with Shin, a planned Death Game candidate. Sou himself is the first candidate to die, before the Game even begins. However, we meet him again in the “Graveyard of Broken Dolls” as Midori, a sadistic Floor Master who masks his cruelty behind a smile. Midori instructs the participants to kill him… Perhaps leading to a scenario where Meister will finally reveal himself.

I’ll dig into these parallels deeper beneath the cut. But before I go any further, I want to give credit to @joukester who came up with the “Shin was a replacement candidate for Sou” theory, which has influenced my thinking a lot. I also want to credit @novatoast, who pointed out the important Kai parallels and many other ideas to me! I’m very grateful. While Shin is my favorite character, Sou is the character I enjoy speculating about the most. I’m excited to finally share my thoughts on the ramifications of this theory.

Some words on Meister, and the role of the Man from the Memorandum

I should be clear upfront that I think Meister is the Man from the Memorandum, the winner of the Previous Death Game, who loved and lost a “17-year-old School Girl.” I subscribe to the theory that Meister is recreating the Death Game to mold Sara into his beloved High School Girl by putting her through the same trials, and he is hoping she will win this time.

In order to make the perfect recreation, I think the other Death Game participants are also meant to fill in the previous participants’ roles. I believe that Shin fulfills the role of the “Man” himself, which was likely an antagonistic role. However, I believe that Sou was originally meant to play this antagonist role. I think that Shin’s First Trial is so unusual because it was designed to twist Shin into adopting Sou’s personality. That way, he could better play the part.

The first thing we learn about the Man is his confession, “In the first trial, I killed a person.” If Sou had survived to the Death Game, it’s possible that his First Trial would have been to literally kill Shin. Instead, Shin’s First Trial is only that “Sou” metaphorically kills “Shin.”

I want to bring up another possibility for the Man’s role; it may be a doomed role. It’s possible that even if Sou had survived to the Death Game, he might also have had a zero percent chance of survival. The worst outcome for the Mastermind may be seeing a “repeat win” for his own role. While I love the theory that Shin’s zero percent survival rate is due to his own agency (having a self-sacrificial nature), there’s a poignancy to the idea that both Sous turn to villainy out of desperation in the face of certain death. Knowing that the Game is rigged against them in favor of a teenage girl.

Perhaps, even knowing that your own father favors a strange girl over yourself.

Even if the role isn’t necessarily doomed, I think Sou Hiyori still knew more about Meister and the Death Game than any other planned participant. If Meister was Sou’s father, and Sou was serving him faithfully, wouldn’t it make sense for him to be upset that he isn’t the favored “Chosen One”? Knowing that he will someday participate in a Death Game, with a high chance of death, but his father isn’t even rooting for him?

What would that horrible knowledge do to a person?

Kai Satou and Sou Hiyori: Two Different Kinds of Stalkers

Let’s talk about the Human Sons, Kai and Sou. Kai was raised to work for Asu-Naro and he was trained to become an assassin. However, he could never kill a person, and so his ranking in the organization was low. I’m suggesting that Sou was also raised to work for Asu-Naro, but since he took on so many important jobs of manipulating participants’ lives, he was likely in good standing.

The most interesting parallel between these two agents is that they each developed an attachment to another candidate. Kai was instructed to watch over Sara, the strongest candidate, and he grew fond of her from afar. Sara never even knew his name. Although Kai had noble intentions, Sara feared him, and lived with the anxiety of having a stalker.

In contrast, Sou developed an intense, abusive relationship with Shin, the weakest candidate. Instead of keeping his distance while spying on the boy, Sou seems to have become Shin’s closest friend.

Sara and Shin share a similar trauma of feeling stalked. Watching eyes and grabbing hands haunt them.

Another clear parallel between the two stalkers is that they both left written accounts of their observations. We see Kai’s notes about Sara on his laptop, and we see Sou’s notes about Shin in his “Shin Tsukimi AI Test Data” book, to Sara and Shin’s chagrin.

Kai grew an emotional attachment to Sara in spite of his job to watch her. Now the question is, how much of Sou’s relationship with Shin was “strictly business”?

Was Sou’s interest in Shin really all for Asu-Naro? Was he instructed to form such a close relationship with the boy? Or did he also grow close to his chosen candidate in spite of his job? We can’t say for sure yet. However, the closer parallel to Kai would be that Sou’s feelings for Shin became more “personal” than “professional.” Personally, I find it likely that Sou wanted to exercise control over a vulnerable person because he didn’t feel like he had much control over his own life.

I speculate that a major difference between Kai and Sou is knowledge of their fate. I think that Sou grew up knowing that he would one day be a Death Game candidate, while Kai did not know this until the last minute. In a similar way that Shin only becomes a villain if you tell him his survival rate, I think that Kai’s innocence of his fate informed his nobler personality. Meanwhile, Sou’s knowledge of his fate could have harshened him.

How do these two men behave in the face of death?

Death: An act of resistance?

“This is... resistance. Our lives toyed with to our enemy's whims, we are unable to save even a single person... As we die off, this is... my feeble... resistance. But it is one large step... toward counterattack...! It is a step I was able to take... because you bought me time. It is surely... not futile. I entrust them to you...! Our regrets...!! Our hopes...!! I... am satisfied.”

Kai’s suicide in the First Main Game is framed as one of the most courageous acts in the story. Kai takes his life into his own hands, rather than let himself be abused by Asu-Naro a minute longer. He also uses his final words to give an inspirational speech to Sara and entrust his hopes to her. It is a heavy burden for Sara to carry, but she doesn’t have a choice. Nobody has any “easy” choices in this Game.

How does Kai’s death compare to Sou’s death? While Kai took his own life in resistance of Asu-Naro, Sou was murdered by Alice, presumably in service to Asu-Naro.

That’s certainly how it looks…

But what if? What if Sou’s early death was his own form of resistance? What if he deliberately provoked Alice to kill him, knowing that this would mess up the script? Knowing that this would make things more complicated for Meister? Is that so unthinkable?

Why would he do that?

It’s not like Sou’s life was particularly meaningful. He lived in service of an evil organization, possibly with a father who didn’t love him. His only close friendship we know of was with a helpless teenage boy, and Sou treated him terribly.

But…I’d like to share my most outrageous Sou theory, because I might as well go big or go home.

In the same way that Kai entrusted his regrets and hopes to Sara, it’s possible that Sou was entrusting his own regrets and hopes to Shin.

What I’m saying is that: it’s possible that Sou died thinking that his death would give Shin a fighting chance.

“I gave Sou to Shin. He’s already Sou by now, you see.”

This quote has always stood out to me. From our point of view, it was Shin’s own choice to take Sou’s name! Sou didn’t “give” it to him!

Unless…Sou knew that his own death would force Shin into the Antagonist Role? He might have known that his own First Trial would be to murder Shin, and he wanted to avoid that? He might have wanted Shin’s First Trial to make the young man “stronger”? He may have even liked the idea of Shin carrying on his own name and legacy?

Following this interpretation, it’s possible that Sou rationalized his abuse of Shin was “good” because it would have “prepared” the boy for the upcoming Death Game. Shin ought to learn how cruel people are. From a “friend.” If the story were to actually frame Sou’s abuse of Shin as “teaching Shin,” this would also tie into Shin AI’s line, “Though I learned a lot of things at his house.”

There’s an obvious argument against what I’ve just suggested. It comes from one of Midori’s most memorable lines.

“Since he was going to die anyway, I wanted to kill him with my own hands…”

Midori the doll says cheerfully that he wanted to kill Shin himself. That clearly shows his intentions towards Shin are purely negative. That line is not befitting someone who might have died to “help” a vulnerable person.

However, I have a counterargument for that. It’s that Sou and Midori aren’t the same person. YTTD’s narrative makes it very clear that the dolls and humans can have separate personalities, shown most clearly with Reko and Fake Reko.

And Midori doesn’t parallel Kai. He parallels Rio Ranger.

Rio Ranger and Midori: the sadistic broken dolls

Rio Ranger is an incomplete doll. His father Gashu strongly imbued him with “a strong sense of inferiority, which gave birth to jealousy and hatred.” Gashu also “discarded what [Rio Ranger] originally possessed.” “Kindness… compassion�� happiness… / Nearly all of [his] positive emotions.”

I think it is possible that something similar happened to Midori. Sou’s feelings for Shin may have been more complex than simple sadistic pleasure at Shin’s pain. If Sou truly paralleled Kai, he may have had hidden “positive” emotions for Shin as well. Inconvenient, rebellious emotions that Meister would want to “discard.” Leaving Midori as the purely sadistic doll we know now.

I realize that this would be a shockingly positive development for Sou’s character if any of this is true. Original Sou is currently treated as a hate-able joke in the fandom because he is so cartoonishly evil. I feel obligated to say that nothing I’ve written would make Sou’s treatment of Shin “okay.”

And it could be that nothing I just wrote is true! I’m simply drawing parallels with Kai’s death of “resistance” and Rio Ranger’s loss of “positive emotions,” and trying to show the implications of what that could mean for Original Sou and Midori. But it could also be that Nankidai will write Original Sou’s death in an opposite way from Kai, and that Midori is more of a “broken person” instead of a “broken doll.” In fact, my favorite difference between Midori and Rio Ranger is that Ranger only knows what it’s like to be a doll, while Midori has the complex memories of human existence. Honestly, there are many ways Nankidai could approach this. I just don’t know yet.

For example, Original Sou could have even been instructed to allow Alice to kill him. I can’t discount that possibility.

Nankidai could also approach a death of “resistance” in a nuanced way. Perhaps Sou stumbled into conflict with Alice without meaning to take things so far. Like Kai, he didn’t want to die. Perhaps he escalated the tension because he was feeling more emotional than logical. Perhaps he found himself in a fight with a larger man, a fight he couldn’t win, and then he finally started rationalizing to himself that his death could still have meaning. And that meaning could have been a combination of feelings of spite for his job and obsession for his friend.

We do have evidence from Midori’s behavior that he seeks mutually assured destruction, and he even seems masochistic. This could lead to a death of “resistance” which is still very different in tone from Kai’s death.

“But I’ll try my best to make it one shot, one kill… I wanna take at least four people with me…”

“How nice hatred is… It lets me satisfy a person 100%...”

I do think that the only interesting thing to do with Midori’s character is to humanize him. He could get sympathetic traits to make him feel more realistic. I think this could even make him scarier! What’s most frightening about the character isn’t his campy villainous vibe; it’s the fact that he’s an abuser. And abusers use sympathy to get what they want.

Rio Ranger is mostly demonic in the story until we finally learn about his father, Gashu, who “puts Ranger in his place” by killing him. Something similar may happen with Midori.

Conclusions

This is getting long and I’ve already written about the most interesting potential parallels between Sou and the Satou brothers, so I’ll wrap things up.

The reason I find Sou/Midori so fascinating is because he is a man of many contradictions. He is a participant and floor master, alive and dead, aggressor and victim. He could be a victim within the cycle of abuse himself, if they develop his relationship with Meister as much as I’m speculating.

Even if my theories and conclusions are wrong, the parallels between Sou Hiyori and the Satou brothers still exist. We have two Asu-Naro agents who developed an attachment to a candidate before becoming early victims. We have two “broken” sadistic doll floor masters. I feel instinctively that these parallels must mean something. I want to think that the parallels mean that Sou could have a father figure, similar to Gashu, and the most likely candidate is Meister. We can also use these parallels to infer how Sou/Midori could be written to be a more complex character.

Thank you for reading!! @ Nankidai good luck writing this bastard.

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theteddylupinexperience · 4 years ago

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The Concert | Dio Morrissey x f!reader

AN: not a lot to say about this one, aside from the fact that I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. I always love the “best friend’s younger sister” trope, and who better to do it with than our goth king himself. Thanks as always to @pascalpanic for hyping me up and listening to me rant about mosh pits. Enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, kissing, super mild punk show related violence, brief anxiety mention, Dio is a little cringey but you like it

“Kiddo, you’re not even gonna have fun,” your brother swears, “this band is harsh no doubt, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“As sweet as your over protection is, you’re not ditching me tonight,” you roll your eyes. Your brother is sitting on your bathroom counter watching you get ready for the concert he promised a month ago he’d take you to. You know his concern comes from a genuine place, you’d only gotten into the goth scene fairly recently, and long time fans can be really intense with “virgins.”

“Hey, uh, is Shane gonna be there?” you ask, casually as you can manage. You attempt to continue with your black eyeshadow to avoid eye contact with your brother, but he sees right through you anyways.

“First of all, you have to call him Dio while we’re in public. You are not killing the vibe on your induction night. Second of all, gross. I’m sitting right here. Drool over my best friend on your own time.” Your brother pokes your forehead with one of your makeup brushes in a scolding manor.

“Okay well first of all,” you start, “this is my time because this is my bathroom. And second of all… do YOU have any weird nickname I should be aware of before I, and I quote, kill the vibe?”

Your brother flushes slightly, looking at the ground before answering, “Uh, it’s Ghost, actually.”

You narrow your eyes at him, biting back a laugh at how ridiculous he looks, bright red ears contrasting the Doc Martens currently kicking against the floor.

“Dio and… Ghost?” He just nods, looking up at you finally.

“Well alright, my knights in dirty ass Tripp pants.” The comment earns you a laugh, and you feel a small swell of pride rise in your chest. For as insufferable as you found each other a lot of the time, your older brother really was like your best friend. His group of friends had stuck together since middle school, and had absolutely taken you under their wing when you’d let yourself really fall into your darker side. Tonight was your first real night out with everyone, and you couldn’t pretend to be more nervous. You had known your brother’s best friend Shane, Dio, since you were in third grade and had always found him fascinating. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, tall and lean, always wearing a leather trench coat that accentuates those features. Full, plush lips, and deep brown eyes that you want to get lost in. Just as you find yourself actually getting lost in the thought of Dio, you’re startled back to reality when your brother turns your hair dryer on and blows it in your face.

“Yo, kid, did I lose you? We gotta go,” in your trance he’s managed to get his hair done and a subtly cool amount of eyeliner. You can only hope not to look like a child, or god forbid a drone, next to him and his friends. “Don’t be nervous, just get your shoes on.”

When you get your boots laced up, you give yourself one last glance in the mirror, fluffing your hair to make it look less obviously styled, and run out the door.

When you arrive at the venue, if you could call it that, it looks more like a rundown warehouse, the music is already in full swing. “The openers always fuckin’ suck, kid,” your brother had told you, “we always show up at least an hour late.”

You’re rocking nervously on your heels, stuck to the ground where your brother had told you to wait while he found the group and brought them over to you. You smile widely when you see them approaching you, but are quick to cover it with what you hope is a cool smirk. Out of place doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel, it would be more accurate to say you’re on a different plane of existence. You’ve managed to transcend discomfort and now have settled into a calmer state.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Wednesday Addams herself,” a deep voice calls out from the head of the pack.

“Hey Sh- uh, Dio,” you stammer as the king himself puts his hands on your shoulders to inspect your outfit. Your stomach drops when he brushes some hair from your face. “You look good. Like you put some thought into how you look, unlike the rest of these drones.” Your face lights up at his praise, and flushes quickly when he winks at you.

Your group makes their way towards the front of the stage when you hear the headlining band announced. The first few songs go off without a hitch, the crowd moves in a seething, pulsing way to the music, and you find yourself moving along with them. You catch Dio’s eyes a couple times to find him already looking at you, his expression relaxed and amused, but his eyes dark as he takes in everything around him. You’re about to walk over and ask him to dance with you when you hear from the stage, “Alright everybody, let’s open this fucking pit!”

Your eyes widen briefly, but you try your best to stay cool in front of your brother and his friends. You can only imagine how lame Dio would find you if you lost your cool because of some moshing. Unfortunately, in your attempt to save face, you’ve distracted yourself to the people around you and find yourself getting shoved, almost to the ground. Your brother hurries over and helps you up, and you assure him you’re fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle. He keeps his grip on you a moment longer, and ruffles your hair before jumping into the circle pit himself. You do your best to keep dancing around, staying away from everyone jumping and shoving each other as much as you can, and for a few minutes you’re surprisingly successful.

The next song that plays is even more intense than the last, and you find yourself crowded against the stage trying to stay away from everything. Your heart rate quickens, and you can feel an anxiety attack trying to creep its way up your spine. You look around desperately, searching for your brother so you can beg him to take you home, when a hand on your shoulder startles you.

Warm brown eyes search your own, “Didn’t mean to scare you, darling, but do you want to get out of here?”

You nod up at Dio, and he takes your hand, guiding you in front of him towards a side door. One of his hands rests protectively against the small of your back, and you shudder at the warmth. You’re outside, the air is cool against the sweat on your skin, and yet Dio’s hand never leaves yours.

“D’you wanna sit?” He gestures to a bench resting against the side of the building.

“I-” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat to find some volume, “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment while you catch your breath, you can feel Dio’s eyes boring into you, but can’t bear to look at him. “God, I’m so sorry, Shane,” you whisper, “Er, Dio, fuck, sorry again.”

“Don’t apologize, darling, it’s just you and me out here.” You finally dare to look up, and he’s smiling gently at you, holding both of your hands in one of his, and rubbing the other soothingly up your back. “I know the first time can be intense, to say the least. It’s a madhouse in there, and those fucking drones don’t know any better than to push everyone around. It should be a crime to scare or shove anyone as perfect as you.”

You huff out a strangled laugh at his words, and move your hands to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he starts, and his grip on your back tightens when disappointment crosses your features, “and because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. If someone as ethereal as you will even allow me in your presence, I have done something right.”

You turn your body towards him completely, searching his face. The strong, confident, devil may care Dio from inside is nothing compared to the patient, sweet, borderline insecure Shane you’re talking to out here. You reach your hand up to caress his face, smoothing down his dyed black curls, tracing your thumb against his full bottom lip. Shane melts into your touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at the contact, the heat of your skin against his feels more powerful than the sun at this moment. When you run your thumb nail against the sensitive skin behind his ear, his eyes snap open.

“Can I- would you… would you be mad if I kissed you?” He asks, his voice shy, but his eyes full of want.

‘I’ll be mad if you don’t,” you laugh incredulously. Shane places one hand against your jaw, and the other one slides up your back to rest in your hair. The cool metal of his rings feels electric, but nothing could compare to the jolt you feel when his lips meet yours. He’s soft, so much gentler than you imagined he’d be, and he takes his time losing himself in the feeling of your lips moving against his. He pulls away too soon, and you grab the front of his jacket to pull him back to you.

This kiss is not as gentle, but it is equally as sweet and intoxicating. His hand tightens on your scalp, and his tongue presses against the seam of your lips. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. He tastes like clove cigarettes and Jaeger, and it’s fucking incredible. He’s more perfect than your wildest dreams of him, and the low moan he lets out when you scratch your nails up his back makes you reconsider everything you’ve ever thought about heaven.

Eventually you have to breathe, so you pull back just a bit and rest your forehead against his. “Wow,” you manage to get out. Shane laughs, the sound is more musical than anything you’ve heard tonight.

“Wow is correct, my darling, you are truly more ethereal than I could have fathomed.” He kisses you again, softly on the lips, and then places another on your cheek. “Do you think I could take you out for real sometime soon?”

You bite your lip to prevent a giddy smile from breaking across your face, and nod quickly. “I actually found this record store with its own coffee shop a couple towns over, we could check that out, maybe? I mean, I’ve liked you since freshman year, so anything you want to do would be perfect. You’re perfect, Dio.”

His ears flush an adorable pink, and he smiles almost shyly up at you. “Shane,” he says, “Call me Shane.”

You beam up at him, “Shane.”

He stands up, takes your hand, and leads you back into the concert venue. Walking arm in arm with the king, you feel like you could jump right in the middle of that mosh pit and come out on top. Shane guides you back to your friends, and you try not to get overwhelmed by the stares and whispers when people see you together. Your brother catches a glimpse of you, his eyes drop down to where your hand is connected with Shane’s, and you brace yourself for an obnoxious or over protective comment.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #shane dio morrissey #dio morrissey #dio morrissey imagine #dio morrissey x reader

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leonameowzz · 4 years ago

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TW Boys vs Durians

So my dad just bought some durian puffs for the family & that’s what prompted me to write this 😂😂 I personally love durians but ik there are many who can’t stand the smell. Just curious dear readers, but how do you feel about durians?

Scenario: G/N!MC feeling homesick and craving food from home asked Sam if he was able to obtain durians for them. The businessman was glad to oblige, for a decent price of course! How he gets them we will never know, but now MC has a whole bunch of these exotic fruit, so they set out to each dorm wanting to share some and feeling curious about everyone’s reactions.

*Bonus: Grim literally eats suspicious looking black rocks off the ground, so eating a durian is nothing special to him as he wolfs down the fruit hungrily. The Ramshackle dorm will definitely reek of said fruit for many days but neither of the occupants really mind~*

Riddle wrinkles his nose after catching a whiff of the durians. Because of his strict upbringing, he never got to eat too many different types of food unless his mother told him to. However being the dorm leader, he knew he had to set a good example to his dorm members, so he bravely took the first bite. It was definitely a strange flavour but he didn’t seem to mind too much.

Trey has actually heard of durians before given that his family runs a bakery, although he has never tried them. He gets used to the strong smell pretty fast and asks MC if he could keep some to use in baking for the next Unbirthday party. MC happily agrees and recommends making puffs, crepes and even chocolates.

Cater probably has the worst reaction out of all the Heartslabyul guys. He immediately backs up after smelling the fruit, refusing to get closer even with ADeuce constantly teasing him. It’s only when MC remarks that it would make for a pretty popular Magicam post does Cater approach, quickly using his camera’s burst mode to snap multiple photos.

Ace being quite adaptable, also gets used to the strong smell easily. He’s usually up for a little challenge and doesn’t mind trying out this new fruit. It didn’t go as smoothly as he hoped due to the mushy consistency but he managed to swallow his bite by downing it with some water.

Deuce is not the most enthusiastic about trying out this foreign food and the smell definitely didn’t help, but he musters up the courage to try it anyway, since it was MC who brought it. Didn’t help that Ace definitely taunted him to eat it. He actually takes it pretty well (even better than Ace), shyly remarking that he had eaten some pretty nasty stuff during his delinquent days.

Leona picks up on the foul scent of durian from a mile away, and it’s safe to say that this lion is definitely not eating whatever “fruit from hell” as he calls it, that MC had brought. He grumbles to them to remove it immediately as he doesn’t want to stink up the entire dorm, especially his room. MC had anticipated that reaction but comments slyly how lucky they were to be graced by the presence of two kings that day. (Durians are known as the king of fruits & Leona will always be king in my heart)

Jack initially thinks that MC had brewed a potion wrongly or something because they smelt weird. After explaining the situation, Jack apologetically declines trying some due to his sensitive nose and MC totally understands. Though they can’t help pouting slightly since they realized no one from this dorm would want to eat durians because of the off-putting smell.

Ruggie is the only Savanaclaw member who dares approach MC from the mention of food. Are they sure it’s not rotten? He can’t help feel suspicious because of the scent but decides to take MC’s word for it. With his deft hands, he swiftly takes some durian flesh and stuffs it into his mouth, while pinching his nose with his other hand. Secretly he willingly ate it knowing that he would be able to slack off on Leona’s duties since the scent would be stuck on him.

Azul gingerly pokes at the soft durian flesh as it oddly reminds him of his squishy octo-form. This is certainly something you don’t see everyday and he’s contemplating if it would be able to sell well in Mostro Lounge. He urges MC to share their findings regarding everyone’s reactions with him, promising to sign a mutually beneficial contract with them should the majority response be positive.

Floyd exclaims loudly about the durian odour but doesn’t seem too put off by it. He is definitely intrigued and even tries chomping on it in an effort to see which is stronger: his sharp teeth or the durian spikes, much to MC’s horror. He remarks that the texture is similar to the shellfish that he eats, and probably the only reason he’ll eat more is to tease people who hate the smell.

Jade is also intrigued but has a more subdued reaction as compared to Floyd. He’s not one to shy away from questionable food being a mushroom collector. He politely accepts the piece offered to him, thanking them for letting him try something new. Like Trey, he asks MC to let him keep some so that he may try experimenting with it for a new menu item.

Kalim is excited when MC cheerfully offers him some durian to eat as usually it’s the other way around where he throws a huge feast for them instead. He does comment on how it smells funky but doesn’t hesitate to taste it (at least after Jamil tried it first). Kalim has had his fair share of exotic foods so isn’t too bothered by the texture or smell. While the durian could never compare to his favourite coconut, he still enjoys it nonetheless.

Jamil isn’t too bothered by the smell either since he’s used to the scent of strong spices in their cooking. Besides he knows he will have to try it first regardless, since Kalim would be eating it. He is still thankful towards MC and even brews some refreshing tea to pair with the durian. Jamil chides Kalim who initially suggests throwing a durian party, but wouldn’t be against making some durian chips with MC since it was simple enough.

Vil is surprisingly not bothered by the strong smell, though he does remind MC to stay outside the dorm so as not to frazzle the other students. As a dignified celebrity he must always keep his cool, though he is tempted to eat some after hearing that the fruit is rich in nutrients and promotes healthy skin. Unfortunately he can’t due to having a photoshoot later but he’s definitely down to try some on his off days.

Rook is caught off guard initially, both from the appearance and smell of durian. He’s quick to recover but declines trying some, mentioning how he has to refrain from standing out when stalking his prey. Also MC swears they heard Rook muttering something about turning the spiky shell into a hunting weapon of sorts, though they choose to brush it off for their own safety.

Epel brushes off the smell like it’s nothing, which makes sense given his upbringing (I mean he literally made his own fertilizer and wasn’t fazed by that stench at all!) He’s eager to try some stating how manly it would make him since even the Savanaclaw people didn’t dare eat it, and ends up really enjoying it.

Idia panics upon seeing MC approaching his room holding the durian, thinking he is about to be attacked. Is this revenge for him beating them during the recent gaming night? And wow the smell was definitely something... He sarcastically remarks that if the spikes weren’t enough to kill anyone, the smell would definitely finish them off. Not to worry though, Idia has a super air filtration system built into his room that nullifies the stench easily.

Ortho is busy scanning this fascinating fruit and updating his already extensive database. Even if he can’t actually taste or smell it, he does want to be knowledgeable about it since MC claimed that it was one of their favourite foods.

Malleus is grateful that MC considers him a close enough friend to let him try something from their home. Humans certainly eat some interesting things don’t they? Still he feels some sort of kinship towards this fruit, perhaps it’s how the exterior seems intimidating to many, in contrast to its soft interior. He teases MC to be careful when handling the fruit so that they don’t prick their finger on the sharp spikes.

Lilia doesn’t hesitate to pluck a piece of durian from MC while hanging down from the ceiling and proceeds to munch on it, not fazed at all. He smugly states that it’s an acquired taste and thanks MC for letting him taste such exquisite food. His eyes twinkle in excitement when MC recounts how delicious durian ice cream is and volunteers to make some for the rest of dorm.

Silver is definitely woken up by the sudden pungent smell but relaxes after seeing his master and father calmly eating away. Lilia encourages him to try some which he accepts, although he falls asleep again not too long after. It is definitely a rare sight as no woodland animals gather near Silver that day, most likely avoiding him due to the smell.

Sebek almost screamed at MC for bringing something so foul-smelling into their dorm but held his tongue after seeing how excited they were. He would be spurred on to try some since Malleus had no problem eating it despite really not liking what he was about to put in his mouth. After all he couldn’t call himself a bodyguard if such a trivial fruit stumped him.

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testudoaubrei-blog · 4 years ago

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TL/DR - Catra is a uniquely complex and compelling character who has -so much going on- compared with most characters in any medium. Her character arc is psychologically astute, morally powerful and dramatically compelling, and it pushes the boundaries of the audiences sympathies in ways that are really groundbreaking for a kids show, and her arcs conclusion celebrates love, growth, and the power to change in a way that is all too rare in TV for grown ups.

Content note for mentions of suicidal ideation and self harm.

Well, now that the summary is out of the way, here’s a massive fucking dissertation on why Catra is such a great character.

This is the first of a series of posts outlining things that make She Ra a truly great show, one that stands out even 15 years into a golden age of TV animation for kids. This isn’t going to be a comprehensive account for why the show is great - the real answer is that this show has so many arcs and so many fully realized characters and they are all growing and changing in ways that interact with each other and complement each other so well. But I’m going to highlight some particular standouts, things that this show does better than anything else, things that made me step back and say ‘holy shit they did this in a show pitched at 10 year olds?!’

And so the first of these posts is about Catra. I’ve never seen a character in a kids TV show like Catra before. Depending on the season, she’s an anti-villain, an outright villain and an anti-hero and then, in the end, a hero. Being glib, I describe her in villain mode as a Saturday morning cartoon Supervillain as written by like, Dostoevsky. She’s got the trappings of classic villain camp - long speeches, sneering, over-complicated plans, she’s oddly ineffectual at times etc/ Yet all of this is underlaid and justified by something much deeper - her feelings of rejection, her desire to lash out at everyone around her, at her self-hatred and hatred of everyone and everything else (at least by Season 4. Good God.) And her actions are as dark as her motivations - she nearly destroys reality out of spite, betrays literally everyone who cares about her (often multiple times) and isolates herself so completely that in the season 4 finale she is a solitary, suicidal wreck of a person. Hell, in her last fight with Hordak, I was definitely rooting for Hordak (to say nothing of Glimmer, who is a pretty impressive antiheroine, like if Sparkles had just blasted her into glittery oblivion would we have held it against her?).

Let's start by discussing trauma. It comes up a lot with Catra for obvious and good reasons. But I almost feel like that word is insufficient for what's going on with Catra, or at least, we shouldn't stop with it (I know there are terms like complex trauma, but rather than simply using those I want to explain the difference between Catra’s consistent abuse and a single traumatic event). To use another example from a different show, Korra was also traumatized in season 4. But she was traumatized by a series of an events when she was a young adult. She had something horrible happen to her, and it fucked her up, and then she had exposure therapy with Zaheer and at least starts to get better. Catra...Catra is much more consistently abused. It's not just that shadow weaver traumatized her with the various acts of torture, but that Shadow Weaver taught Catra both an explicit worldview and a series of coping mechanisms that she struggles with through young adulthood. First, Shadow Weaver trained Catra to seek her approval. This is something she is particularly vulnerable to with Shadow Weaver, but also what she does with Hordak and to a extent Double Trouble. Catra's instinct when people mistreat her or show that they aren't trustworthy is to invest further in the relationship, until the breaking point. By contrast, when people treat her well Catra lashes out or takes them for granted. This is uh…a dymamic I am acquainted with among people who have been abused as kids, people whom I love. It is pretty rough.

She also developed a desire to prove herself. This starts off being tied to her drive for approval, but combined with her competitive streak (which is expressed in both healthy and unhealthy ways with Adora) it turns into a desire to beat Shadow Weaver and then Hordak at their own game.

At the same time, Catra learned by always being blamed for everything to evade and deny responsibility, no matter what. I think this form of self reassurance is tied to her self doubt (I think at some level she does think she is worthless) and her self hatred. It is also enabled by Adora’s martyr complex and willingness even act as Catra’s punching bag (as we see in the flashback in Corridors). This is a dynamic that actually repeats in an even worse fashion with Scorpia. Far from being arrogant, her constant evasions, put downs against others and preening speeches sound like the words of a woman who is trying to convince herself most of all. This tendency borders on narcissistic self delusion by season 3-4, which she begins recounting her version of events and possibly believing it even when it is obviously false, and everyone knows it.

When it comes to worldviews, Shadow Weaver taught Catra that love is about control and manipulation. We see this in seasons 1-3 where she congratulates herself for manipulating Adora when all she has done is take advantage of Adora's lingering love for her. Meanwhile, she’s learned that power is her only protection, and that the only way to stay on top is to abuse those beneath her.

The final kind of static tendency in Catra is her identity in the horde and her view of herself as one of the bad guys. This is something she rarely articulates but underlies much of her her decision to stay and not join Adora (at least at first). I think one thing to consider is that even if Catra never believed horde propaganda, it may have made her cynical and unwilling to imagine something better for herself or the world. Another factor is having struggled to belong in the horde for so long, she isn't going to give up now. At first this ties into her desire to win the approval of shadow weaver and Hordak, then it comes from her desire to prove herself better than them. Another factor is her self hatred. She sees herself as someone who hurts people, perhaps as a monster. She sees herself as a bad guy and so team evil is her side.

So yeah, our girl is kinda fucked up.

And yet Catra is never reduced to the sum of her traumas and bad habits. At every step of the way she is shown as a moral agent. She is shaped by shadow Weaver's abuse but she remains aware of and responsible for her actions. This is a double edged sword. She is fully responsible for her actions, but also she is never shown as broken by abuse or mental illness. She’s fully responsible, but by the same token is also redeemable, because she still has a choice.

So with that our of the way, let's go to Catra's arc.

I’m not going to recite everything terrible Catra does because I’m still on my first complete rewatch and I honestly find it hard to list it all. It’s a lot. So let’s talk about her shifting motivations. Early on, we see her desire for approval and recognition motivating her in ways that are so easy to sympathize with - she’s been told she’s worthless for years, and she wants to be worth something. We see how much she’s been scarred by Shadow Weavers abuse and by the ruthlessness and callousness of the Horde, and can sympathize with her desire to survive and advance since her own position is so untenable. We also see how, at first, she wants to be reunited with Adora. Her first huge turn into much darker territory is Promises, when she tries to kill Adora in order to permanently sever her connection with her own life and eliminate a possible rival for advancement (should Adora ever return). She’s told herself that she doesn’t want Adora back, and at least partly means it. Yet we still show her care for Scorpia and Entrapta and even Shadow Weaver in Season 2. It’s when Catra realizes that Shadow Weaver has chosen Adora over her once again that she takes her darkest turn. It’s not just that she destroys reality out of spite, it’s that she rejects her chance for a better and happier life, betrays every friend she has and focuses single-mindedly on hurting Adora (and arguably herself) and then on surviving when her attempt fails. Then Catra spends an entire season both fully inhabiting her role as a villain (and not a sympathetic one - really only our history with her leaves us sympathetic) and being utterly self-destructive and miserable. At the end, as mentioned, she’s a broken, suicidal wreck who has destroyed everything she’s strived for. If this was an HBO drama, we’d roll credits here and she’d go down as another self-destructive antihero. It would perhaps be too much to call her ‘Walter White as a catgirl’, but still. Of course, her story doesn’t end there.

Something that is incredibly dark that is happening in step with this is Catra’s hardening of herself, indeed, her dehumanization of herself. We see her struggle with her natural compassion, her kindness, her need for connection, her desire for happiness, and we see her ignore it all, stamp it down and nearly snuff it out. This is a huge factor in her descent into becoming a real villain (no ‘anti’ qualifiers needed). Every step of her descent is a struggle for Catra - not going with Adora in the second part of ‘The Sword’, trying to kill Adora in ‘Promise’, going back to the Horde, betraying Entrapta, lying about Entrapta, threatening Scorpia, destroying the world - but she always chooses evil. And with every step she becomes more isolated, more callous, and more cruel. Her default reaction becomes not just bravado and mockery and insolence, but threats, bullying and intimidation, until her management style is identical to Hordak’s, and indeed, is quite a bit worse. Catra starts off fighting for Hordak and Shadow Weaver’s approval and struggling to survive, and ends up cackling maniacally at her brutal and murderous conquests. She has very deliberately turned herself into a cruel conqueror, and a tyrant. This self-dehumanization is a huge part of evil in the world, I think, and it’s really powerful to see it so clearly in a kids show.

Meanwhile her insistence on evading all responsibility finally results in a self-serving, self-protective narrative that insulates her from responsibility or self-examination but also cuts her off from reality and other people. It’s always a bit unclear to what extent her various untruths (about Adora leaving her, about Shadow Weaver’s escape and her concealment of it not being her fault, about Entrapta betraying Hordak) are things she believes, lies she is telling to have power over others (mostly Scorpia) or things that she doesn’t quite believe but is trying to convince herself of. It’s probably all of these at various times, and in different degrees for each lie. The end result is that Catra is even more alone, because only she inhabits the safe cocoon of lies she’s built around herself. It also is the key to her and the Horde’s downfall - Catra is so isolated and in such denial that she can’t see how thin her forces are spread, and this crack shows up even in episode 1 of Season 4, with her insistence that the Princess Alliance is in shambles (when, in fact, it’s already rebounding, and proves more resilient than she allows herself to believe, and is led by a woman as ruthless and determined as herself). This part of Catra’s arc brilliantly shows how deception (of yourself and others) can feel protective by keeping shame at bay, but ultimately is destructive and strips someone of so much of the intellectual and moral qualities that we call ‘human.’ It’s also chilling to see since we’ve seen the end game of this mentality play out in US national politics, at the highest level.

I said at the opening that we’ve never seen a sympathetic character like Catra in a kids show. What about Zuko? I would argue that Zuko is never a cruel, or as callous, or as self-destructive as Catra is at her worst. Zuko is motivated by a desire for recognition from his abusive father (much like Catra is initially motivated by desire for recognition from Hordak and Shadow Weaver, and indeed Adora), and perhaps a desire to belong in the Fire Nation. All of this gets wrapped together in his ‘Honor’. He’s a young man with a very weak sense of what he truly believes, instead relying on external guides to what he should do. He’s also incredibly self-involved, and initially indifferent to anyone’s pain but his own and anyone’s needs but his own need to restore his honor. Uncle Iroh is there throughout to push Zuko both to see the needs of others and to become his own person. Zuko’s redemption arc, then, is a twofold quest to recognize other people and to find his own moral center and act from it. This is a pretty powerful coming of age story in that it is about him becoming his own person and throwing off the shackles of his upbringing. Politically, it’s a powerful story of a young man taking responsibility for his own actions in an authoritarian regime and refusing to participate in its imperialism any more and to embrace a new way forward both for himself and his nation. At the same time, in some ways it is easy to sympathize with Zuko because his greatest crimes are those of weakness - he’s not strong enough to stand up to his nation and his family until midway through the last season. Catra though...Catra does what she does, eventually, because she wants to hurt people. She’s cruel, and spiteful, and destructive in ways that are truly scary and which prevent any excuse or mitigation.

Which brings up the other comparison - Azula. But while Azula is (somewhat inconsistently) shown either as a monstrous child sociopath or a traumatized and broken child who can’t help it (and thus, perversely, as not a moral agent but something like a monster), Catra is consistently shown as a moral agent. Catra chooses her own path, every step of the way. She has so many chances to do something else - Adora’s offers to leave together in the two-part series opener, Promises, Scorpia’s suggestion that they dessert the Horde and become desert gang leaders, etc - and until season 5, she turns them all down. While Azula seems destined for evil and madness, with Catra we see a young woman very deliberately walk down the path into unmitigated evil with both eyes open. And then we see it destroy her.

And after she is basically destroyed, we see her build herself back. This process actually starts in Season 4 with the creeping realization that even when she is winning she is miserable and alone. She doesn’t even notice Scorpia is gone for several episodes, then she completely loses it. She spends the entire time when she is at her most triumphant isolated and raging and borderline incoherent, as ineffectual as she accuses Hordak of being. She’s won, and she’s alone, and she’s the most unhappy she has ever been, and I think for the first time she realizes that. And that’s the worst blow to her, even before all the external things come crashing down. She’s already miserable before Double Trouble and Glimmer deal her a triple coup de grace of destroying all her armies*, turning her and Hordak against each other and then Double Trouble’s epic evisceration. By the time Glimmer shows up, Catra is, as mentioned, literally suicidal. But she’s also already begun the process of changing in that she knows that she has a problem (her, and her self/other-destructive tendencies). Moreover, she knows, at some level, that what she really wants isn’t conquest, or to prove herself as the baddest leader of the Horde, but love - and she’s seen how she’s squandered that at every opportunity.

Let’s just pause for a moment to observe how much better Glimmer is at villainous machinations than Catra. In a couple episodes she makes a faustian bargain for unlimited power, kills all her enemies armies, sets her two chief foes at each other’s throats and literally cripples one while rendering the other helpless. And given her ironic non-answer about hurting Catra (‘we’re the good guys, remember?’ and the fact that she’d tried to kill Catra twice before**, she walked into Hordak’s sanctum fully intending to end Catra’s life, one way or another. She does all this through ruthlessness, recklessness and treachery, and she could give like, a TED talk on villainy. Of course it also blows up in her face and is actually way worse than the portal did in Catra’s, endangering the whole universe (I always assumed that the portal only threatened Despondos), dooming Etheria to invasion and all that. Of course, Catra pulled that switch and then fought Adora knowing that the world was ending, while Glimmer was just ignoring warnings from...just about everyone, including Shadow Weaver. So yeah, Glimmer, best kids show antihero since Princess Bubblegum***(unless we’re counting Catra as an antihero, which works for the first half of season 5).

Anyway, at the beginning of Season 5 Catra is adrift. Though some interpretations, like TV tropes, see her as immediately falling back into old habits and casting her lot in with Prime, I see her actions from the end of Season 4 onwards as more ambivalent. She seems to be kind of...going through the motions. She doesn’t have any of the drive or passion in her plotting that she once did, she seems to be maneuvering into Prime’s good graces out of habit. At best she’s back in the survival mode of early season 1, but without the ambition and desire to prove herself that motivated her. Some interpretations put a lot of stock in Prime being someone that can’t be bargained with or appeased, but...I don’t buy it. I take him, to an extent, at his word when he says that he was ‘exalt’ Catra (I am sure it is something awful). Catra actually gets what she wants halfway through “Corridors.” Only it’s not what she wants. She’s done jockeying for advantage, especially in a world where she truly would be alone because all she has is this psychopathic narcissist and his clones for company. She wants connection. She wants to do what is right. She’s suppressed all her humanity (felinitity? Anyway) for years and it’s made her miserable, and now she’s ready to embrace it. At the same time she confronts her own culpability, seeing just how much harm she’s done and admitting it for the first time. Her first lifeline is Glimmer, the only person she can actually talk to, the only other Etherian, the woman whose mother she doomed and who has nearly killed her three times. But Glimmer is also going through her own dark night of the soul - Glimmer and Catra’s character arcs were converging at the same time that Catra’s and Adoras and Glimmer’s and Adora’s were diverging. And they come together on either side of that forcefield, just talking and being people in an environment that is designed to be as dehumanizing as possible. Even this barest lifeline is enough for Catra to hold on to for dear life, and enough to inspire her to not just feel bad about the bad things she’s done, but do something good.

But the first way she does this is a cop out. Her plan, like Shadow Weaver’s in the finale, is to sacrifice/kill herself doing ‘one good thing.’ That way she doesn’t have to figure out how to live with the consequences of her actions, face the possible rejection of the people she loves whom she’s wronged, and do the hard work of building herself back up as a better person. She gets to die a hero rather than live as a villain. That said, unlike Shadow Weaver she does at least get off one apology, and it makes all the difference.

Then Adora fucks Catra’s sacrifice up, in glorious, space operatic, gay AF pulp fiction fashion, by saving the cat. Catra is mind controlled or unconscious for most of this episode, but what she does do is so crucial. When Adora comes for her, she reaches out to her, as soon as she is able. She doesn’t push her away, she takes Adora’s help, and her love, and Adora does the rest in badass fashion. The next few episodes plus the so perfect its canon Don’t Go are my favorite part of Catra’s entire arc.

She nearly falls back into her old habits, at least partly. Now that she has to live with what she’s done rather than just dying for it she just wants to run away again. But when she has to choose between losing Adora all over again and confronting herself and her past, she chooses Adora, and asks her to stay.

Catra then spends the rest of Season 5 slowly easing herself into the very human world of the Princess Alliance - the comaradery, the dedication to others and a cause, the goofiness. I’m going to talk a lot more about her relationship with Adora in my Catradora post, but I do want to highlight three moments.

The first is Catra running away again. This is actually a big change from what she’s done before - she’s not leaving because she’s angry, or bitter, or spiteful, she’s leaving because she doesn’t want to see the woman she loves sacrifice herself yet again (maybe this time for good) after being manipulated by the woman who had abused them both. But then she comes back. And then she confronts her abuser in a way that she has never done before - for the first time in the series, she not only calls Shadow Weaver out but calls her to do the right thing, and doesn’t give up until she does (this is after Adora also calls SW out and cuts her off forever, meaning that her two charges have finally called her on her bullshit and chosen each other over her, more in my Shadow Weaver Rant...and I guess my Catradora rant).

Then, at the end, Catra both stays with Adora through her potentially fatal harnessing of the Heart of Etheria and then her comes in and rescues her by challenging her to do something for Catra and for herself. Not to be with Catra, or to kiss her, or love her, but just stay for her. Needless to say, Adora responds far more enthusiastically than Catra had dared hope. (more on this in my Catradora rant).

Catra starts the show convinced she doesn’t need anyone except Adora, and she’s willing to even push Adora away if she can’t have Adora on her own terms. She goes down that path - ambition, manipulation, treachery, cruelty and isolation - until she has nothing left. She then slowly, painfully, turns around and reaches out and begins to heal the pain in Etheria and the universe rather than causing more. This is a psychological journey in many ways, but even more than that it is a profoundly moral one. It is a story of her accepting responsibility for her actions, facing reality, reaching out to others and making amends. It is in every sense a redemption. And while it works perfectly with Adora’s own development into her own, fuller, happier, healthier person, it works not because of Adora or the power of love, but because of Catra herself. Adora’s companionship, Adora’s rescuing of her and holding her to account, all of these are necessary for Catra to change for the better. But in the end it is Catra herself who chooses the right path, maybe for the first time in her life. And that’s what makes the romance work in turn - Catra is motivated to change not simply by a desire to impress her girlfriend or by Adora’s shining goodness (to the contrary, Adora’s a healthier and less self-sacrificing person at least in the finale...she comes around later than Catra) but by her desire to be true to herself and seek out what she really needs and wants - which is love, and connection, and to do good rather than evil. It’s a gorgeous story that takes an antihero all the way down to hell and then back again, and this makes it a truly unique redemption arc in all of kids TV - not just because of how far Catra falls, but how far she travels overall.

*(I know a lot of fanficcers talk about there being a lot of Horde Soldiers left but like...in the show...they’re nearly all dead, guys. Glimmer and company...okay mostly Mermista... just about killed them all in an afternoon. The cadet Triad survives because they deserted and weren’t there to get drowned/frozen/suffocated by plants when the grand invasion of Brightmoon went sideways)

**Okay, once she was only an accessory to Shadow Weaver’s attempted murder of Catra, the other time she leaves Catra for dead in ‘Pulse’

***I stan PB so hard guys. So hard. Machiavellian genius, mad scientist, god figure, possible Nietzschean Ubermensch? She’s so great. So great.

#she ra #she ra adora #she ra catra #spop catra #redemption arcs

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