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cricket-reader · 2 years ago

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The Smell of Alcohol and Cologne

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Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant has a flashback and finds comfort in Tony’s arms.

Warnings: Past abuse, hints of SA, MC almost jumps off the tower, mention of a dead mother, fluff, it’s kinda dumb, pining, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame

Word Count: 3,000

Looking at his assistant Tony takes his time to look at each and every feature. Sure, he stares a lot, but she’s always too oblivious to notice. It’s kinda cute—but at the same time, irritating.

He’s never been able to really stare from this close a distance. She just usually would make some excuse of how she has to do one thing or another.

Her long dark lashes lie gently on her cheeks that are slightly pink, being warm from the blanket and the fireplace. Her freckles are more prominent up close and he can see her perfectly plucked eyebrows. How she manages to keep up her perfect appearance is beyond him.

Despite her shy nature, they have grown closer—helped mainly by his personality. He’s glad for that.

Noting that she probably isn’t going to wake soon, and that she usually doesn’t get much sleep, Tony decides to take her to bed. He only knows that because he asked Jarvis if she was still up one night; when he asked why she was, Jarvis said that she usually never gets much sleep.

Trying to be as careful, quiet, and gentle as possible, Tony lifts her small body, bringing it to his room—since hers is not finished being painted.

She only gains half her consciousness when she is picked up. In her stupor, she smells the light scent of cologne and alcohol and knows she is being carried somewhere by a man. She’s had night terrors like this before, but this felt too real.

It was strange though; the cologne wasn’t the same. Sometimes she had flashbacks in which she could faintly smell the cologne and alcohol, but it isn’t the same as it is now.

Tony notices her body stiffen and her laboured breathing which makes him concerned.

She feels as though she might just get sick.

When Tony began to lower her onto his bed, she freaked. Gently lowering the beauty onto his bed, he covers her with the duvet and looks at her with admiration.

Adrenaline sent her flying up from her lying position on Tony’s bed. Confusion warps her brain. This can’t be real, she thinks.

Tony sees her wide eyes and immediately wants to comfort her, but as he draws closer, she screws her eyes shut, scrambling to the other side of the bed and curling into a ball. This, of course, shocks him. He didn’t understand what was going on; he has never seen her like this.

He faintly hears her mumbling to herself, and when he strains to listen in, he hears her words.

“It’s not real,” plays on repeat. Almost as if she is trying to convince herself—which she is.

Tony gently calls out her name. Her whole body freezes when he gently rests his hands on her arm. This can’t be happening, not again. Tears stream down her face. She thought Tony was one of the good men. Turns out he’s just the same as him.

Deciding she doesn’t want a similar cycle to repeat, she will fight back until he really hurts her—perhaps with a whip like he did.

Tony blinks when she slaps his arm away. She has never so much as shown any reaction similar to this. Even when he noticed that people were clearly bothering her, she kept her cool. He knows this because he often thinks that should he be in that situation, he would slap the person silly.

This is why his concern deepens, almost to a point that is too far. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. What is it? He has not a clue.

He calls out her name as if trying again, softer this time. She tightens her hold on herself shaking her head as if to clear the situation from her mind; however, she, deep down, knows that it won’t work. It’s too real not to be.

Shifting on the bed so he can get a better stance, she flies up out of the bed. Startled, a wide-eyed Tony jumps up as well.

Now she is for certain; this is real. This is happening. Racing out of the room, Tony panics and does the only thing his brain can think of doing. Being a stressful situation, adrenaline was high in both the individuals for different reasons. If you are not aware, in a state such as this, the brain may sometimes make irrational decisions. With that in mind, Tony chases after the woman not entirely thinking the situation through.

She hears his footsteps. He’s going to beat her. Pummel her into submission.

The door to the stairs bursts open. She flies up the stairs with Tony right behind her. After several floors they reach the top. Tony’s eyes widen as he realises what is about to take place if he doesn’t get ahold of her. He can’t have that. He won’t let that happen.

The door to the roof bursts open as she runs to the edge of the building—it’s not as if she’s suicidal, but this was the best option her mind could provide her. She’d rather die than have to suffer like that again.

Tony felt like he might cry out in relief when he was able to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from getting any further.

She thrashes around in his arms as one final attempt, proving itself futile. Gently cooing, trying to console her, he starts walking back into the tower with great difficulty. In there he will be able to let her go, he just can’t when their out on the roof. She sure as hell isn’t dying on his watch. Once they finally get in the building. He tells Friday to lock the door, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. If she would have succeeded right then and there, he would have been at fault.

Finally out of his arms, she stumbles before crashing into the tiled floor. Tony feels his heart break seeing how broken she looks. Squatting down to match her height, he carefully says her name.

Her head snaps up. The look of sheer terror upon her face is like a punch to Tony’s gut. Is she scared of him? She slowly begins to scoot away from him, her eyes still wide. His heart completely shatters and he feels nauseous; she is scared of him. No, terrified is more like it. He stands up, frowning with his brows furrowed with concern

“Please don’t… please, I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong I can fix it! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be better! Please!” She sobs, with a certain sense of brokenness. This makes Tony freeze. Slowly he feels the anger creeping into his body once he processes her words.

It all makes sense now. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. Obviously she must have been having a flashback. The thing that makes his stomach twist is his mind wondering what on Earth could elicit such a response.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, slowly lowering himself so he doesn’t tower above her; certainly she’d be even more scared if he stayed like that.

She peeks up from her ball she curled herself into and sees that Tony is sitting on the cold tile, a nice space between the two of them—not too far and not too close.

“You were going to,” she mumbles, picking at her sleeves. His brows furrow in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“No I wasn’t,” he gently insists.

“Why else would you carry me to bed?”

One sentence.

Once sentence is all it took to destroy him. That along with her tear stained face as she looks down to her sleeves that she’s still picking at. He’s never seen anything as heartbreaking as this. His stomach churns as he thinks more and more of her words.

“Sweetheart… I, I never—it-it wasn’t like that,” he stutters, an underlying tone of pain evident in his voice.

“But you were carrying me to bed,” she persists, speaking softly as if not to anger him.

Should it be any other time, the expression on her face was adorable. Her brows furrowed, a small pout on her lips and her head tilted slightly to the right.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the words she had just spoken to him. Never in his life would he have imagined anything like that coming from her lips.

She was always so happy and carefree, a sense of beautiful innocence with every movement. He doesn’t know how she could keep it up; he certainly doesn’t do it well. Locking himself up and not sleeping for days, looking like shit. He wonders how many times she has felt the way he has, but kept a smile on her face.

“I wanted you to sleep somewhere comfortable.”

Her frown deepens, “then why not leave me on the couch?”

“Because that’s not comfortable, I was going to take it instead,” he shrugs off the last sentence as if it were no big deal. Sure, it wasn’t much of a big deal to him, but to her? To her it was too good to be true. He couldn’t have let her sleep in his bed without wanting something in return. That’s not how it works.

“I would have taken you to yours, but they are still painting it,” he sheepishly rubs his neck. He hopes she doesn’t ask too many questions about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to have her spend the night in Natasha’s room since she was out on a mission with Wanda and Clint.

He sure as hell was not about to go in Natasha’s room. Though he will endlessly deny it, that woman terrified him. He knew that Natasha would be okay with her sleeping in her room though; he had asked prior, telling his plan to her and Clint. He was honestly kind of surprised she so willingly accepted. He would have thought it would take much convincing.

“Painted? What for?” Her expression grows worried and confused as she rushes to say, “I don’t recall ruining the walls.”

“You didn’t, I just thought a change would be nice,” he smiles. Doubt now enters his mind and he frowns, “unless of course you don’t think so.”

He mentally curses himself. For a genius, he can be kind of stupid some times, often rushing into things without truly thinking it through—take Ultron for example.

“So… you weren’t ..going to…”

“No, of course not,” he gently reassured her. She releases a breath and puts her head back on her knees.

Embarrassment flows through her. How stupid she believes herself to be. She made a fool of herself in front of her boss—of course he didn’t want anything like that from her! He’s Tony Stark for goodness sake! He can get women that are actually gorgeous—models really. He would have no use to use someone as ugly as her. She’s sure he has a line of women he could get any second.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not lifting her head. She’s too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he assures her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darling.

Darling is what her mother use do to call her. She hasn’t been called that since the day she died. Tony didn’t even realise he let that slip. It just happened.

Her heart clenches and she looks up at him. Tears blur her vision. Tony hates seeing her like this. What he would do if only he could take all of that suffering away from her. She shakes her head as she looks down. Blinking, the tears fall down her face.

“What do you want now?” He questions, ready to get anything and everything she desires. “I can get you anything you want.”

He couldn’t give her what she wanted though. Money simply couldn’t buy it. What she wanted was for her mama to hold her whilst softly singing a lovely lullaby in the old rocking chair by the brick fireplace in the cosy kitchen. Holding her, and running her fingers through her hair.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. She has already made a fool out of herself. She also believes that, should she ask, he would laugh in her face. Why on Earth would the great Tony Stark comfort some weak girl?

She shakes her head. Tony frowns before telling her if she changes her mind to just tell him or Friday. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing for her, he nervously asks, “would you like a hug?”

Now here’s the thing about Tony Stark. He wasn’t one to show his nervousness. He always acted like he was chill, arrogant, and sure of himself. He never got nervous around women; in fact, he was great in that department—except when it came to her.

Something about her drew him in. Not in the typical lust-filled way—no, in an emotional sort of relation. Sure, she was quite a sight to see, but he actually felt things for her. Not just physically.

For this reason, he is so anxious as he asks for the hug. Tony doesn’t think she will want one considering everything that has happened. He prepares to not take the hit so hard to his ego; however, he can’t help but think of how crushed he would be should she refuse. Sure, he didn’t mind it, but then he would look like a complete imbecile in front of her.

So when she nodded her head and reached her arms up for him, his ego practically shot into the stratosphere. He was elated that despite everything, she was entrusting him. She was trusting him. Him! He wasn’t one that cries over things, but this brought him close to crying in relief.

He walked over and sat down to give her what he assumed would be a quick hug. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Taken a bit aback, he takes a few seconds before gaining back enough thought process to return the gesture. He wasn’t going to let go until she did, but he certainly expected it to be quick.

And that is why, ten minutes later, Tony Stark is sitting on the cold tile floor with a woman falling out of consciousness and into her slumber. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Nor did he want to be the cause of another horrible memory. He already feels horrible enough. Because although it certainly wasn’t his fault—how could he have known?—he still blamed himself. One thing about Tony Stark is that he often blames himself when things go wrong. After all, that was usually the case with his father. Usually when things went wrong the blame was placed on him. So, it is only natural for him to continue that into his adulthood.

“Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asks, gently brushing some of the hair out of her face. She frowns and blearily blinks up at him. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah?”

She nods her head and stands up. They both walk down the stairs leading to the roof access. It takes them no time to reach the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’d probably want to sleep in Natasha’s room? She said it was okay.”

She lowers her gaze to the ground, worrying her lip in between her teeth. Being alone doesn’t sound like a good idea right now. She wants to be curled up in his arms so he can protect her. The shadows at night wouldn’t dare reach her if she had his strong body wrapped around her.

No. That's inappropriate. He’s her boss, and he would never want to do something like that. The only women he has in his bed with him are the women he has one-night stands with. And that isn’t something she wants.

“Is Natasha here?”

“No, she’s on a mission, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” He says it like it’s a good thing. Frowning, she scuffs her foot on the ground. Tony practically melts when her pleading eyes look up at him.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” She mutters, too embarrassed to say it any louder.

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He keeps his face neutral as he says, “well if you want you can sleep in my room. I’ve been told I’m great at cuddling.”

She giggles a little. What he’d give to hear that out of her more. “By who?”

He raises a brow, “why, jealous?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, “you wish.”

He smiles back at her. “I was just kidding anyways.”

“Sure,” she jests, not believing him. The elevator opens on his floor and they both walk out.

“No, I’m serious,” he pouts. “I’ve… I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with.”

Her brows furrow. She finds that hard to believe. What with the amount of girls he’s had in his bed, there’s no way he hasn’t gotten loads of cuddles.

Now that she thinks about it, however, she hasn’t seen anything on the news about his newest scandal or girl toy. In fact, she hasn’t seen so much as one girl getting him to leave early to hook up—not that it’s any of her business. It just makes it easier for her to keep up his reputation.

They arrive at his bed where he had laid her down earlier. Tony tried to burn away the memory of her terrified eyes and petrified body on it.

They both snuggle into bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line they both drew to keep themselves separate.

That doesn’t stop them, however, from tearing down that barrier during their sleep, seeking each other's warmth and comfort.

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romilly-jay · 2 months ago

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In The Unplanned Second Chance Saloon: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

***spoilers***

CW: Very significant number of throwaway deaths (inflicted by the 'Good Guys', obvs) - fruitily overdone English Upper Class accents and lots of irritating public school type joshing - references to and glimpse of the mostly off-screen torture and murder of a woman.

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I'm having an interestingly hard time getting started with this and I wonder whether that's a little bit to do with the fact that Princess Marina [Hyde] hates Guy Richie soooo much and is soooo disparaging about him on The Rest is Entertainment?

Definitely, maybe.

So, rushing to get to the <3 of the matter: We watched TMOUW on the first day it was released and found it... stunningly boring for a movie that involved so much gunfire and so many things blowing up.

Our immediate reaction was: SAS Rogue Heroes did it (much) better.

Then, this week we watched it again and it... had got better? It hadn't, naturally, changed at all, but we enjoyed it considerably more on the second viewing. I guess that's because we'd adjusted for all the things we knew it wasn't going to be and that left more space just to enjoy the structure and delivery of the story on its own terms.

I also had headspace to notice that the first third of the movie was IMO focused, purposeful and pacey and Worked Really Well. There was a pre-credits cold open action sequence that I found genuinely gripping, then a well-positioned, not overly long recap ("I guess you're wondering how we got here..."), and into another obnoxious, against-all-odds, enjoyable-on-its-own-terms, action sequence, this time the storming of a prison camp to complete the crew.

All much more impressive and high octane and unlikely than the real story where the members of what would become SOE (Special Operations Executive) were notably less impervious to bullets.

In the cold light of day, I'd mutter something about the real missions of SOE were quite dangerous and adrenaline-fuelled and didn't necessarily need to be 'sexed up' but horses/courses, genre choices.

Side note - one of many reasons we expected to be the perfect audience for this movie was S's abiding interest in all things WW2 and with particular interest in the exploits of the SOE. We were for example huge fans of the 2018 reality show that put modern participants through the SOE selection process:

Back to TMOUW and - TBH, I still found all the sequences at the destination port slow-to-tedious. Even the parts that involved the climactic action, in which the Daring Few cause chaos across the port and half-hinch an important ship.

The femme fatale still came across to me personally as very wooden (perhaps she was going for "English Restraint"?) but this time I was able to enjoy her rendition of Mack The Knife. The first time I spent the entire song fulminating about the fact that she'd changed outfit MID COSTUME PARTY - a party she'd insisted the German Baddie Officer attend with her as Caesar and Cleopatra. Why would you ditch your fabulous barely-there green dress and Cleo wig right at the point that you're trying to force and fascinate him into staying???

This is probably why - a candid pic of the dress ahem reveals that this white gown is also a Most Excellent Dress. Photo is an off-screen pic from the downtime while the crew was filming at HMS Belfast - which in the movie and ocean-CGI'd to the gills, stood in for the ship that confronts our heroes off the coast of Africa.

This assessment has become kinder when we then watched I Care a Lot and found she was in that as well, playing the co-conspirator girlfriend. Which IMO she does with style and energy.

So, backing away from my initial position that the actor in qu was terrible and only managed to get cast in the movie because she's dating someone. [Maybe I'll come back to this movie but in case I don't - that movie goes a bit too hard into the DARK side of dark comedy for my tastes, but, conversely, I thought the abrupt comeuppance at the end was earned and appropriate. I've just read a review where the focus was on how much the reviewer liked the movie in general but disliked the ending tremendously, so - shrug?]

#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #sas rogue heroes #secret agent selection WW2 #i care a lot

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gyusbambi · 4 years ago

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humph; han seojun (pt 2)

click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 3

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k

after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?

seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.

clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.

one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud.

quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,

“what’s his problem?”

it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him.

the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.

however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.

suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance.

juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?

it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?

while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.

before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,

“y/n?”

it’s han seojun.

frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.

“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.

“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.

“yes.”

“with whom?”

taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.

“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”

abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.

“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.

nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you,

“your motorcycle-”

“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”

at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.

when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,

“y/n, long time no see!”

“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.

soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.

in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster.

seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?

yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg.

noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.

heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps.

claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.

moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you.

“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.

it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.

“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”

“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,

“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”

“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.

“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”

“it’s water, y/n!”

it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.

with a mirthless smile you shake your head,

“you’re the dumb one.”

after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind.

and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.

the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.

“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.

sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”

oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.

“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.

after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,

“i’m so sorry.”

“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.

the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break.

considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.

however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.

“yah, y/l/n y/n.”

you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,

“come out.”

the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,

“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.

“you better stay out of this.”

han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.

your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall.

blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.

“you think you can piss me off easily?”

you’re taken aback when he snaps.

“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.

after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.

“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”

“i have no clue what you’re talking about.”

luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.

“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”

frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,

“and what do i have to do with that?”

“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,

“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”

“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.

“you did, i gave them to you last week!”

seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.

“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.

“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.

“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”

oh no. he absolutely didn’t.

“when did you do that?”

“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.

precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms.

all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.

however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.

seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,

“how did they get them then?”

suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,

“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”

he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.

“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”

you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.

a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.

right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.

both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it.

why are you so nervous suddenly?

why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?

carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.

in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.

after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.

probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”

“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,

“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.

seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.

there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.

time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful.

as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty.

one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you’re not paying attention to him.

sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well.

as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats.

you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho.

oh, well.

both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.

as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now?

when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.

han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,

“chorong-ah, change seats with me.”

“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.

the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.

letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.

of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.

“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,

“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”

“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.

but sua was wrong.

half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words.

right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.

feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.

out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle.

seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout.

no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you.

he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.

still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.

the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.

he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.

“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.

suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.

before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,

“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless.

“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”

seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.

“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.

the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.

seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.

little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.

to be continued...

#i stayed up till 3 am for this #part 3 coming soon #to be continued #humph #han seojun #han seojun imagines #han seojun imagine #han seojun fluff #han seojun x reader #seojun #seojun x reader #hwang inyeop #true beauty #seojun imagine #han seojun fanfiction

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legguk · 3 years ago

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Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #help idk what im doing

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headspace-hotel · 5 years ago

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the essentials of writing FIGHT SCENES!

I realized that there weren’t a lot of fight scene tutorials on here that addressed a lot of the common mistakes of fight scenes. I have a non-zero amount of experience with Krav Maga and have been told I’m very good with fight scenes so I thought I might as well write out a little advice

Keep in mind that this is best suited to “nasty hand to hand street fighting” and even then there are probably better people to ask about it. But here goes.

What’s the One Important Thing I’d have you remember?

Best piece of fight scene advice I’ve ever heard: Violence is fast. Whenever people are involved in some kind of accident or tragedy, what they say is “It happened so fast!” So no matter what, think fast. The main mistake I see with fight scenes is unrealistic description, and it comes from a lack of understanding of a fight being a very altered state of consciousness, where your character is at the limits of their ability to process shit. So:

How to Describe a Fight Scene!

The Language: Go for the strongest verbs you can find and use them. Think slam, crash, smash, pound, grind, shove, ram, claw, rip, gouge, bash...You want very verb driven writing. This is the time to pull out that thesaurus and that list of 500 verbs to use in writing or whatever. Don’t let adjectives and adverbs carry the weight. “She punched him hard in the gut” needs to be “She slammed a fist into his gut.” Or better, let the fist be the subject: “Her fist slammed in his gut.” If there’s any time to adhere hardcore to active voice, it’s now. Also notice that I shortened “into” to “in”- it’s best to go with language that’s as short and well, punchy, grammar be damned. This is also why I go with “gut” rather than “stomach.” Sentence fragments and em-dashes and such are your friends. Cut out articles and conjunctions wherever you can. And try to keep the subject and verb of every action close together--it’s much more direct and better able to connote that intense aggression that you want.

So, you might have something like this: “As she tried to throw a punch at his face, he dodged aside, moving in, his body twisting, to kick her in the ribs.”

You might notice the following issues: The verbs are fairly weak- tried, moving. “Dodged” is good but the others fall flat. There are a lot of extraneous words. And the clause at the beginning makes the sentence feel too indirect.

So these are the changes I would make: “Her fist darted for his face. He dodged aside. Slipped closer, twisted--his heel crashed into ribcage.”

That’s the technical stuff out of the way. Now for some more general advice on fights:

In a fight, you really don’t think. There are two things your brain can do: percieve and respond. In such an adrenaline-fueled survival situation, you’re a bundle of instinctive reaction and OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK. A skilled fighter doesn’t mentally remember techniques, the techniques are just the first response that springs out at an attack because they’re second nature. And the thing is, you CAN’T remember techniques in the fight. Adrenaline makes you big stupid. Brain is a faraway land, but body is here, in danger, and trying to stay alive. This is what I mean by your character being at the limits of their processing—they have very little room to think because they’re in survival mode.

That’s why you practice techniques One Fuckthousand Times in martial arts. It’s actually wild how little conscious thought there is to it. I’m always going to remember the time when I, a smol orange belt, was sparring with a larger guy and his fist was flying at my face and I just...wove underneath it. Without even thinking. Pure instinct. I had two guys like, beaming at me and pounding me on the back at the breakthrough but I was confused at the time because it felt like a complete accident. So what you should get out of this is—yeah, no internal monologue! Write what your character perceives and write what they respond.

Description of any kind, but especially visual description, will be highly fragmented. If your character is in a fight with another character, they’re not going to be extensively perceiving their surroundings and noticing the thick curtains of ivy on the walls or whatever. Their focus will be. On the fight. Part of the reason for this is that adrenaline makes you focus hard on threats and kind of cancels out irrelevant data. I want to point out visual description specifically as an area of concern though because for one thing, your field of view is going to be limited as you try to protect your head and face, you’re going to need to pay attention to your aggressor and anticipate their next move, and finally, if you get punched in the face or have anything come close to hitting you there you’re going to be blinded temporarily because you’ll instinctively shut your eyes. NO SCENERY! If your character’s getting pummeled in the face they’re probably not noticing the vicious gleam in their adversary’s eyes outside of a quick glimpse. Imagine the whole thing is being filmed through a panicking amateur’s shaky camera.

Hone in hard on your character’s body in your descriptions. They’re inhabiting their body in a super intense way and most of your description will probably lean toward the tactile. This not only includes the awareness of pain or of being hit, but also the movement and coordination of their muscles and how they are working together, their breathing, potentially exhaustion or fatigue. Martial arts allows you to experience how your body produces force—to percieve the flow of power through your entire torso that culminates in a punch. This feeling can add a lot to a description of a fight. A punch or a kick’s power doesn’t come from muscular strength of your limbs, but originates throughout your body and the ability to coordinate that and draw it together into a single hard point of power involves a lot of consciousness of your body, which also becomes second nature.

Almost the entirety of your character’s focus will be firmly in their body. They are perceiving their adversary’s movements, but that is sharply edged with their own reactions to them.

I feel like people often don’t realize how intense taking a hit in a fight can be. A punch to the face or head is blinding and dizzying; taking a hit to the temple will snap your head aside and put you completely out of it for a second. Descriptions of these things need to be very grounded and intense to feel right. Getting hit in the chest hard enough can knock the wind out of you. Getting hit in the gut WILL make you retch or throw up. A hard kick to the gut is like instant vomit. (There’s another post with really excellent descriptions about what certain blows feel like so I’ll leave this at that.)

Your character will perceive pain, both the force of the blow they take and a sense of the scale or breadth of the pain, but adrenaline will keep them going through it to a degree that isn’t possible when not pumped full of adrenaline. Your character will probably know that they’ve been injured (oh fuck, that was a nasty hit to the side) but AFTER the fight, expect the real pain to suddenly hit (oh fuck, there’s a giant bruise over my side and it’s aching so deep I can barely move).

Adrenaline makes you straight up loopy sometimes. Y’all know how much I hate anecdotal evidence, but one of my former instructors told a story about how he was mugged, got slammed against the sidewalk and briefly blacked out, fought back, and then just...decided to go to work. He thought he was fine. A few hours later, paramedics were asking him questions and he was completely incoherent. He had a severe concussion but the adrenaline rush had caused a delay in the damage really hitting, to the point that he was just like “heh, I can go straight to work, I’m fine!”

Some general facts:

A fight is probably going to be over pretty quickly: Movies are deceptive about this but it’s not super realistic to have two characters tangling with each other for like...ten minutes straight. You get tired. You get sloppy. And there’s only so much damage you can take.

Fancy kicks not recommended: They look nice on screen, sure. But having your leg above your waist for any length of time is one hell of a risk when your opponent can grab it and slam you to the floor like a sack of concrete mix. HOWEVER, kicks can be fight enders. A heel kick will break ribs easily.

Dirty fighting: This is the Kravist in me, but knees to the groin are valid and will completely immobilize a testicle-having attacker. Elbows are also highly destructive, but you tend not to see them in movie fights much. Biting is valid and bites can be very nasty. Gouging eyes is very effective. It’s also easier than you would think to rip the skin off someone’s face with your nails if you’re already going feral. A good punch to the throat might end a fight.

Blocking or dodging blows: Your character can deflect a punch or a knife attack to the upper body with forearms, and your arms will cushion a blow to the head as well. You can also duck your head around an attempted blow to the face. It’s important, though, to think of your two characters’ actions as interlocking rather than alternating—a character going in for a hit will at least briefly have one of their limbs extended instead of protecting the body, and the other character will be taking that opening. Have them dodge the blow and slide into their own opportunity in a single movement.

Shit Happens: A fight is not an equation where you plug in the size and weight of both adversaries and get the result. Again, this is the Kravist in me, but the only law is Murphy’s law. An attempt to land a blow can go sour and break somebody’s wrist. An attacker can trip and fall. Puddles and improvised weapons and getting blood or sweat in your eyes can all be wild cards. An experienced fighter can get fucked up by someone smaller and less experienced than they because of luck. That said, though, experience is what helps you adapt to the Murphy’s-law-ness of everything.

Yeah that’s what I’ve got, enjoy ur violence

#writing advice #writeblr #writing reference #writing references #fight scenes #writing fight scenes #writing tips #writing #martial arts

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volleychumps · 4 years ago

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Hello!! Can I request for Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo to you getting hit in the face by their spike or serve and like you pass out..? tysm I love your writing sm!!!! You’re my favorite writer on this app probably

:’)) These will be written before anything significantly romantic happens and they start dating, I hope you enjoy!!

Accidental Ambush w/ Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo

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Bokuto

“Bokuto-san, should you really be trying out a spike you’ve never tried before with full force?”

Akaashi Keiji sighs, watching with a tired stare as the nationally-known spiker grins, gold-eyes gleaming with excitement as the owl-haired boy spins the ball in his hands for good measure.

“Learn to live a little, Akaashi!! If I’m gonna be the bestest spiker in the world-”

“Bestest isn’t-”

“-then I’ve gotta have more tricks up my sleeve!”

The banter between the two had kept both boys occupied as you entered the gym, planning to grab the sneakers you left behind from practice with the girl’s basketball team. In doing so, you eye the two as the darker haired one finally obliges to set for the over-hyped boy, causing you to pause.

It wasn’t every day you got to see the skills of one of the top spikers in the nation up close. Realizing neither had noticed you, you hum, leaning against the wall as you think that it wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance.

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the ball to come hurtling in your direction, so fast and uncontrolled you hadn’t even been able to react as the weight of the ball knocks you off your feet, feeling the ground hit your back as the impact causes you to begin to lose conciousness.

Bokuto Kotarou’s jaw drops as Akaashi’s slackens a little, both pairs of eyes widening as the last thing you hear is the sound of sneakers on the squeaky gym floor as Bokuto looks down at your limp figure in shock. The ball bounces away, leaving a trail of blood coming from out your nose.

“Shit! Shit Shit SHIT OH MY GOD DID I KILL HER?!”

“No, I...don’t think so.”

“THINK? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THINK’, KAASHI?!”

“Yelling won’t change the fact that you just hit one of the captains of the girl’s basketball team.”

“YOU SET THE BALL!”

“You wanted me to set it, so techinically, you did this.”

Bokuto’s golden eyes dim down a little, a wilt to his shoulders as he scoops you up carefully, guilt bouncing around his chest as he brushes some hair out of your face, Akaashi crossing his arms when Bokuto seems to gaze at your face for a second.

“Um...are you gonna take her to the nurse, or is something supposed to happen-”

“Right! Right, the nurse.”

When you finally gain conciousness, your first reaction is to sit up quickly, groaning as soon as you did. What the hell happened?

You blink when you’re immediately pushed back down again, but slower and gentler this time as the owl-haired boy in front of you gives you a nervous grin, golden eyes looking a tad sad as he begins to ramble.

“You’re awake!! Do you want money? I can buy your lunch! Shoot shoot, uh...a goldfish! How about I buy you a goldfish?”

His words are a tad difficult to process as you blink once, then twice before realizing he had been holding a warm towel to your nose, pink staining the white material as it indicates you had bled. You smile a small grin, pushing his wrist away as Bokuto rubs the back of his neck guiltily.

“Bokuto...is it? Uh, I’m okay. Really.” You assure him, telling the truth. Most of the pain had faded away, and you were left with a dull throb in your head. “I just really wanted to see you spike, I should’ve made myself known..”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You wanted to see me spike?”

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” You laugh awkwardly, looking off to the side. “You’re one of the most talented players in our age range, right?”

Bokuto swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he sees you, slightly bloody nose and all, smile as if he hadn’t just socked you in the face with a volleyball as you openly compliment him to his face.

The words rush out before Bokuto can think twice. “Do you...want to?”

“Want to...see you spike?” You arch a brow, surprised as Bokuto nods brightly as he grins, putting the warm towel on your nose again as he brushes some hair out of your face to keep it from getting wet. “I can make a private showing just for you as my apology! I’d just need to get your number...and your name...”

“Y/N.” You attempt to push the towel away again, only for Bokuto to catch your hand, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives you a half-grin.

“Whaddya say we make it a date, Y/N?”

“Depends, are you gonna hit me again?”

“I’ll definitely be hitting on you, that’s for sure.”

Akaashi Keiji fights the urge to roll his eyes as he closes the door quietly to the nurses office, wondering how the hell his best friend managed to turn the situation into an opportunity to get a cute date.

Oikawa

“Ladies, remember: if you’re gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks.”

“Lame as hell.”

“Iwa-chan, I’ll give you my attention in a second, okay?”

Oikawa Tooru misses the flicked off finger in his direction as he continues to talk up his group of fans, grinning his playboy grin at all of them in the middle of the lunch period. Hanamaki coughs as he approaches the middle of the courtyard, choking back a laugh as he examines the situation.

“Is he really showing them how to serve a volleyball like they actually care?”

“At least he’s not talking to us.” Matsukawa shrugs, boredly watching as well. “I say it’s a win-win situation.”

“Show us, Oikawa-Kun!”

“Yeah, let us see your famous serve up close!”

“Girls, girls...” Oikawa puts his finger to his lips, winking once. “Promise to keep it a secret?”

“Hey now...he’s not actually gonna hit it, right?” Iwaizumi sits up fully, drinking his melon juice as he sees his childhood friend actually take position, causing Iwa to choke.

“Oi, shittykawa, is that really the best-?” Iwaizumi questions through a fit of coughs, but doesn’t manage to finish his thought as Oikawa’s already running to hit the volleyball already set into the air as he hits it towards a space with no students-

or so he thought.

Through a herd of squeals and praises, chocolate brown eyes widen as your figure enters the direct line of fire, time seeming to slow down as you manage to turn in question at the sound, only for your jaw to slacken.

The sounds of his fans drown out to Oikawa’s ears as the ball hits you straight in the face, causing you to stumble confusedly as you feel your face go numb, pain slowly taking its’ place afterwards. The distance doesn’t allow the setter to pinpoint exactly who you are, but he begins to move without thinking.

Oikawa is careless as he pushes aside the girls surrounding him, legs moving so fast before breaking into a run just in time to catch you from falling into the grass. He blinks once, eyes in shock at what he had just done, all to show off for some girls.

He watches the tears prick your eyes, eyes beginning to flutter shut as his rushed thought process doesn’t realize just who he hit.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-”

Oikawa feels a lump grow in his throat as your lips form a simple, yet meaningful smile as the colors in your vision begin to close in on you, his panicked mind still trying to register who exactly he had harmed.

It’s okay. Your smile seemed to have meant.

Weren’t you mad? Shouldn’t you be angered that this stuck up pretentious playboy had nailed you right in the face with the oh-so famous serve known to make half the teams in his district tremble at the thought of it?

“Congrats.” Oikawa feels a familiar hand clasp his shoulder to see Iwaizumi looking down at your now unconcious figure. “You just hit the school sweetheart square in the face.”

“S-School sweetheart? Shit, wait, Y/N?!” Chocolate orbs widen with realization as his adrenaline-rushed mind finally registers.

Iwa grins a tad sadistically as Oikawa gapes at the beauty in his arms, now slightly bruised and passed out because of his doing as the setter carefully picks you up, regret brimming his eyes.

“The one girl in the school you wanted, and you had to hit her? Nice.”

Ushijima

“WATCH OUT!”

You don’t have time to do anything of the sort as you had just slid the door open to the entrance of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club practice room just as Ushijima had nailed another practice spike, this one hitting the inner court so hard it had rebounded back out of control in another direction.

That direction just so-happening to be yours.

The papers meant for the advisor slip out of your grasp as you try to process what had just happened, hearing the once boisterous gym drain of noise as the ball hits you square in the face. You had known of Ushijima’s scarily powerful spikes, but you had no idea the rebound back could feel like a ton of bricks.

Ushijima seems to still in place as you faint backwards, eyes widening the tiniest fraction as the rest of the team surround your now blacked out figure, bruise forming on your nose along with a trail of blood. The powerful male slowly raises his hand to examine his palm, eyes betraying no emotion.

He had done that...to a girl?

“I-Is she dead?” Goshiki whispers as Subaru nudges him, nodding over to a staring Ushijima as he takes in what he had done.

“Y’all are such babies.” Tendou yawns, walking over to begin to wrap your arm around his neck. “She wouldn’t die from something like a rebound, but if it had been the real thing-”

“Shut up, you ginger.” Semi begins to take your other arm before the culprit’s voice makes him freeze in place.

“No.” Ushijima’s steps manage to silent the team as they, excluding Tendou and Semi, all take a subconcious step back. They watch in bewilderment as Ushijima takes your unconcious figure with a gentleness they didn’t know he possessed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you into a piggy-back position.

“I’ll take her. Continue practice.”

Ushijima ignores the gapes and questioning stares as he walks out of the volleyball room, never had left practice early before for any reason.

As he walks, feeling your even breaths against the back of his neck as he carries you easily to the nurse, he wonders just what he would say to you when you came to in addition to his apology.

The stranger on his back seems to shuffle a bit, causing the ace’s steps to slow to a stop.

“W-What...?”

“I’m sorry, but try not to sleep. We have to make sure your head’s alright.” Ushijima says straight forwardly, blinking when you hum in agreement, still seeming to be out of it as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Okay...”

Before Ushijima can tell you not to do that, your next words make him press his lips together.

“You’re a lot nicer than you look, you know?” You seem to slur, head lolling on his shoulder. “Sweeter too.”

Thump.

Ushijima pauses for a few moments, beginning to walk again before stopping abruptly, grip on your legs relaxing as he feels your breathing even back out again.

Wait.

...thump?

Kuroo

“Kuroo, you’re hitting too hard.”

“I don’t care!” The captain fumes as he grabs another volleyball from the basket, throwing it up to slam it across the gym angrily. “Stupid sensei! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play in the next game if I have to take those dumb classes.”

Kenma dodges the ball with a slight movement to his head as he doesn’t tear his gaze away from his console just as it hits the space next to his head. The setter looks up lazily as Kuroo grabs another.

“I’m telling you, you’re-”

Kenma’s cut off when he hits the ball again, this time not even bothering to put a spin of direction on it when it suddenly gets slammed outside a nearby open window, followed by a yell of pain. The two childhood friends exchange looks, Kenma getting to his feet with a sigh as Kuroo rushes outside.

“I told you so.”

Kuroo’s footsteps bring him to the point of contact, eyes widening at the sight of someone he recognizes leaning on the building for support, a hand rubbing your cheek as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Kuroo questions hastily as the captain’s heart beats in fear. How could he lose control of his power like that? The two friends watch, one less worried than the other, as you wave it off, laughing a little with a blush on your features.

Kuroo breathes out the anxiety in his chest at your laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards the slightest bit as you go to say something-

The smile on your face seems to fade as you lurch forward, the impact of the spiked volleyball finally processing in your body as Kuroo catches you swiftly, anxiety back in his chest.

“Hm. Well, have fun with that.”

“K-Kenma, what?!”

Kuroo sighs, annoyed at his best friend as he walks off carelessly, leaving you in the hands of the captain, who looks down at you guiltily before scooping you back up in his arms and back into the empty practice room.

When you come to, the first thing you see are the eyes of the captain, ice pack on your forehead as you realize your head had been placed in his lap, Kuroo nursing you until you had woken up.

Startled, you sit up quickly, his forehead colliding with yours as the ice pack falls into your lap. You share a groan, and you scramble out of his hold with a redness to your cheeks that the raven-haired captain couldn’t pinpoint.

“That couldn’t have felt good.” Kuroo frowns, a hand reaching out to touch your forehead before you turn away, causing him to arch a brow.

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” The captain questions the victim of his doing, and you laugh a little too loudly.

“U-Um! Nope, I’ve just got to uh- feed my shark-”

Kuroo catches your arm before you can go, pulling you back down gently.

“Do I need to kiss you or something to make you stay still?”

The capain catches on as a pink hue takes over your cheeks as you do as your told, a smirk tickling the corner of his lips.

“Y/N L/N, right?”

“You know my name?” You squeak, only prompting Kuroo to come even closer as his feral eyes seem to keep you from running.

“I heard through the grapevine someone of the sort had a crush on me all of last year.”

You blanch, finding movement in your legs again as you ignore the dull throb in your head. Kuroo puts an arm on the opposite side of you, resting it on the bleacher as he leans even closer, seeming to trap you.

“What I didn’t hear however,”

The ice pack in your lap continued to melt.

“Was that the girl who liked me was this cute.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu anime #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa toru #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima #haikyuu ushiwaka #haikyuu kuroo x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo

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lovelystay · 4 years ago

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ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 🍒

𝕟𝕠𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟

(ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥)

[Rᴇsᴜᴍᴇ : han jisung had a boring college life , nothing exciting until he started to know you. You were like a drug and he quickly got addicted. ]

Jisung’s life is very boring , no family , no friends, no girlfriend , no special skill , nothing exciting . You were probably the only good human interaction he had in all of his college years , a young beautiful student , third year in college , very lovely with him. He thought you were interested in him , but , you only came up to him because of some activities that your teacher told every new student to do, like asking older classes about their college experience and some other things.

After you’ve talked to him , he was smiling all day his heart was beating fast , he couldn’t stop thinking about you . Han tried to get closer to you , but each time he did ,it was too short , too fast for him . I mean, of course , he is in his last year of college and you’re in your third year , the schedules are so different . But jisung found another way to stay close to you , the difference is ; you’re not aware . As weird and creepy as it sounds , he thinks that it’s not a big deal because he’s not hurting you ...

Han’s life was boring and lifeless , so devoting his free time entirely to you wouldn’t be really bothering .

After stalking you on social media and tracking you down from time to time , he decided that owning something from you would be a great form of reward .

Today was the day when he finished classes an hour sooner than you. Which gave him the time to get to your dorm . As soon as his classes ended he hurried to get there , he had no one to wait for and no one to wait for him .

His heartbeat got really fast but he was confident anyway , the doors could get unlocked with a 4 digits code , Han sometimes followed you when you get back to your room so he already had the code fully memorised in his head .

Quietly and surely , jisung stepped into your little home , penetrating your personal space without you knowing anything. He was very quiet and careful with the noise, the walls were pretty thin and no one was supposed to be here .

With his bag still on his back, Han bends down to take off his shoes leaving them almost right in front of the door and then rush to find out where your room is .

He found it pretty quickly after opening a random door, everything looks so nice. It smells good , everything is cleaned and pretty just like jisung would have imagined. Han stepped inside and wondered about what he was doing , wasn’t it a little too much ? Was he crossing a line ? Why would he do something you clearly would dislike if he likes you so much ? Too much question came to himself and he decided to answer none, the bad has already been done , he’s here already, he can’t step back after coming this far...

He shook his head trying to clear his mind and searched your room to finally open your closet . The first thing that came to his mind were your underwear. Jisung loved to imagine you in cute lingerie and even just basic underwear it would turn him on like crazy and would get him a boner randomly in class . As soon as he opened the closet ,he opened random drawers in hope to find what he’s looking for. Jisung let out an audible gasp when he found laced black underwear, his heartbeat got faster and faster imagining you wearing those , just for him . He took them in his hands and slowly observed them , watching every single details. Curious , he wondered what they would smell like , he could feel his sanity slowly leaving his body and mind not caring about anything anymore. Han took them in one hand and brings them up to his nose , he practically inhaled In them, appreciating the good scent they had. Jisung quickly got carried away , instead of heading back to his home and living your dorm before you came , he took off his own underwear and pants down to his thighs and masturbated with your piece of clothes. He shifts between putting the underwear on his pink tip and down his nose ,thrusting up to get himself off, he immediately set a high pace because of how excited he was. The adrenaline of sneaking in your dorm was already getting him sick but having an underwear you probably wear not so long ago got him really rilled up.

Little did he know , you had a test on this last hour and you could leave earlier if you finished before the bell rings. Which happened, you were so happy, the test wasn’t as difficult as you thought which resulted in you completing it pretty quickly. With a smile on your face you headed back to your dorm, happy to finally getting to rest after this day that seemed so long. You instantly perceive a pair of shoes that were totally unfamiliar to you , they look like a man’s. No one even came here and you don’t have any pair looking like this one. It triggered something in you, someone is in your home without your consent and is probably dangerous. With your body starting slowly to shake out of fear, you tried your best to be quiet and got to the kitchen to get a knife. Your hearing wasn’t the best but wasn’t bad either, you could hear some sounds coming out of the direction of your bedroom. Someone is definitely there. Slowly and on your tiptoes you walked to your bedroom scared to life and wanting to get that stranger out of your home.

Your hands seemed to start trembling but your grip on your knife was tight enough so you were sure you wouldn’t drop it .

The steps you took were small because you were nervous but you still were getting more closer and closer to your room. The door was slightly open , not completely but not closed either which allowed who to take a peek of who was inside. You moved forward until your shoulder was touching the door, you stopped breathing and focused. But your grip on the knife loosened and you dropped it, the sound of the knife dropping on the floor scared you so you immediately screamed, Jisung was as scared as you, he knew when he heard the sudden noise that it could only be you that was there. You glanced at the person that you soon identified to be Han jisung , he was almost naked , you could see his private parts and your closet was open with panties dropped to his side , you understood what he was doing and panicked. He definitely knew you were there now. While you were almost paralysed with fear, he hurried to put his pants back on as nothing happened. Your thoughts were tangled you couldn’t understand a lot and everything got exhausting and stressful at the same time really quickly. You saw him struggling to get up and trying to get to you so you started screaming in case someone was passing by and could hear you and save you , which would probably not happen . Han was quick to put his hand on your mouth to shut you up , you got disgusted and scared and told him «You’re a dirty and disgusting pervert get off me! » you screamed fear and total honesty. Jisung get surprised at your words and got mad. He loves you so much and care about you but instead you just think of him like a disgusting being. He lets you go for a second to get the panties and immediately shove them in your mouth roughly making you gag a little. « Who’s the dirty and disgusting now huh ? Try and talk with those cum filled underwear of yours in your mouth. » he said laughing at you and how dumb you looked.

« I wonder how you actually taste down there » he smirked and touched you from your breast down to your covered pussy only hearing muffled screams coming out of your mouth. Han sweared he could’ve cum right there just by feeling your intimate parts up in his hands. He bite his lips and pressed his hand harder on your clit giggling at your face with the wide eyes you just gave him. « Let me show you how good I can make you feel baby » jisung said his voice full of sincerity and looking at you eyes full of lust.

You shook your head left and right knowing that the words that would come out if you tried to talk would be incomprehensible. He smirked and told you « I know you act like you don’t want it because you’re scared but I want to taste you anyway ». He noticed that you two were still standing next to your room’s door so he grabbed you by the arm and forced you to go with him on the bed. Jisung then brabbed the top of your bottoms and slide them down to your ankles leaving you completely exposed to him. You tried and shook you legs to hit him and maybe get away but he was way stronger that you and you probably wouldn’t be able to go past your bedroom’s door anyway. Han smacked your thighs and seized your ankles to spread your legs and force them open, he laughed pridefully when he got a clear glance of your vagina, he could only imagine it before but now he surely won’t have to anymore.

Jisung grabs you by the thighs and dives in. His tongue teased over your clit, stopping occasionally to suck on it wanting to hear the girl he’s obsessed with scream his name. Your moans and cries were muffled by the underwear, but Han could hear them well enough to think that you were enjoying what he was giving to you. He was tasting you and feeling you get wet against your will.

You were extremely ashamed of yourself even though it wasn’t your fault but you felt the pleasure building up and your high getting closer as jisung was licking and kissing your private parts. He could probably tell. While you cried louder hitting your high jisung looked at you smirking , he looked at you in the eyes and continued to eat you out , overstimulating you. It hurts really bad, you knew you were sensitive and hoped he would’ve stopped sooner just Han just wouldn’t. He enjoyed receiving a reaction from you whether it would be a good reaction or a bad reaction, as long as he has your attention he is happy. Seeing you squirm around and try to get him get away from you was enjoyable for him. But you really hated it his tongue kept circling around your clit were it hurts the most when you were overstimulated.

Jisung got worried someone may hear you two so he added a hand over your mouth considering that the piece of clothing wasn’t enough anymore .

« Are you ready for my cock sweetheart ? » han said in a mocking tone , knowing you couldn’t answer. You tried to scream again in hope that someone would come but he got up and leaned it your ears to warn you « You better keep your voice low or the disgusting guy like you said isn’t going to treat you so nicely anymore », you could feel his hot breath tingling your ears as the words came out. Nicely ? That was nicely ?

Han got back up and said in a normal tone of voice « I hope I’m your first, I want to be a special someone for you, because you’re very special to me ». You almost wanted to throw up hearing him acting as he love you after he did all of this mess. You looked at him in the eyes in a very derogatory way that he didn’t quite enjoy. « Alright » jisung sighed.

His cock was already out and firm. Tears were rolling down your eyes again crying and choking on your own spit. He took his hard and leaking cock in his hands and slid it up and down your pussy moaning and feeling your wetness mixed with his saliva. He entered you and stretched your pussy out earning a gasp from you. To test and by curiousness of your reaction, he immediately set a high pace that got you to scream, breathing was already hard with that thing in your mouth but it now became harder as you couldn’t catch up with him. It made your boobs move in a way he loved, so to not keep his hands empty he grabbed them liking the pleased feeling of your hard nipples against his palms.

Jisung loved fucking you so much it could become a drug to him, he’s already addicted to you anyway.

You didn’t even tried to fight him anymore your whole body felt numb and every single one of your muscles aches.

When he felt his high coming, the stalker pulled out, he grabbed his dick in his right hand and jerked off in front of you rapidly, throwing his head back hissing and moaning your name until thick white fluid came out and landed on your breast. Decorating and marking you in his own way.

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shihalyfie · 3 years ago

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Shounen anime character archetypes, and how the Adventure and 02 characters don’t entirely follow them

Adventure is a kids’ show, and so it’s only natural that its characters would have certain surface archetypes common to others in the genre, like “the impulsive leader” or “the cool-headed rival”...except it actually doesn’t, really! It was actually a deliberate decision to make the characters go against their archetypes, and even the ones that did toe closer to it still had a number of nuances that distinguished them greatly from what you would usually expect from these kinds of characters. A lot of this was a deliberate attempt to make the characters relatable, so that it would allow each and every one of them to have their own unique strengths that their usual archetypes wouldn’t generally allow them to.

To be clear: tropes are not a fundamentally bad thing, especially since fiction very much relies on them to communicate (Adventure and 02 sometimes being so contrary to media expectations that they often frustrated viewers for not apparently making sense), and moreover, there are tropes that still are very true to reality (for instance, although the archetype of the “crybaby child” wasn’t in this series, many people have stated that Tomoki in the significantly more conventional Frontier was no less a realistic representation of what a child his age might do in an unfamiliar world). It’s also quite foolhardy to claim that Adventure and 02 never indulged in tropes at all, of course. However, things that fall outside the conventional mold are much more difficult to find proper representations of, and there’s an unfortunate trend of many (especially those in the mainstream who don’t quite remember the series well, or mainstream press) often pigeonholing Adventure and 02′s characters back into those tropes because that’s what you’d normally expect of them, sometimes to the point of negatively comparing them to other things -- and that’s just something that really isn’t fair to the series!

Disclaimer: Note that the following post works first and foremost off of the original Japanese version, so if you’re coming purely from the American English dub, there may be some substantial differences in what’s described (most noticeably in regards to Mimi and Daisuke).

Taichi

While shounen media has been a lot more willing to change things up a lot since Adventure first aired in 1999, the general idea you get of a shounen protagonist is a hot-blooded one who charges recklessly into everything on impulse. Taichi definitely fits a handful of the traits on principle in that he’s a passionate sports boy, and one who takes an “action-first” philosophy and often acts on impulse, but there’s a lot more nuance to that than you might expect.

Firstly, it would be very off to pigeonhole Taichi as the belligerent type to like fighting and to charge into everything thoughtlessly, because while Taichi does get cocky in the midst of battle while riding the adrenaline, he’s not the kind of person who likes fighting enemies just for the sheer sake of fighting and defeating them (and, in fact, it would probably be incorrect to say this about any Adventure or 02 character). As is pointed out by Koushirou even when Taichi is at one of his most haphazard and reckless in Adventure episode 16, Taichi’s actions are still always out of consideration for others, and he’s the kind of selfless person who in fact only hits his most reckless points when he’s cracking so much under the pressure of needing to do things for everyone’s sake that he even throws himself into the fray out of self-sacrifice. Even during the late points of the series in Adventure episode 45, he felt that the method of “pushing forward despite everything” was the best way to repay the sacrifices their Digimon friends had made for them -- he has a tendency to advocate for actively doing things because he firmly believes that sitting around doing nothing won’t solve anything, or would result in more victims. He has had introspective moments of weakness (see Adventure episodes 17, 20, 21, etc.), and it’s specifically because he has to reconcile the facts that he knows nothing good will come out of being a sitting duck, but he also has to figure out a way to do it that won’t accidentally cause collateral damage.

Taichi is “impulsive” in that he tends to play things by ear, but that doesn’t always mean he advocates for the most aggressive solution -- in fact, there are times where he’s often too chill and is picking the simplest and least complicated thing to do for now while he tries to figure it out later. Plus, it’s not like he recklessly charges into battle against everyone’s wishes -- the few incidents he does are explicitly marked as his moments of weakness, and in fact the reason he gets into conflicts with Yamato so much during the early part of the series is technically because he’s taking the time to argue back at him and try to make his point instead of just going ahead and doing it anyway.

Taichi doesn’t have that much of an ego! Adventure episode 28 reveals that he’d never even thought of himself as the group’s “leader” to begin with, nor did he necessarily think he should have the position (by all means, despite how unreliable he was at the start of the series, responsibility belonged to Jou as the oldest in the group). But Taichi has a remarkable knack for seeing things on the bird’s-eye view, and that’s what makes him suitable as a leader -- not in the traditional shounen sense of just aggressively pushing everyone forward into battle, but looking at the full picture and making judgment calls, delegating jobs, and bringing people together. It’s a much more true-to-life description of what a “leader” needs to be beyond what media (or even real life resources, honestly!) would usually suggest, and Taichi being someone naturally suited to this position encompasses most of his personality -- it unfortunately makes him not very good at seeing the little things in front of him, but he’s capable of assertively and firmly making decisions for the sake of everyone’s welfare.

And even when Taichi does hit the general shounen lead trope of being on the argumentative or irritable side, a lot of it has to do with the fact he’s a bit of a playful troll who doesn’t take things seriously enough, not that he’s brash and wants to start a fight -- he sometimes makes insensitive remarks because he was under the impression others shouldn’t be taking it so seriously (”it was just a joke!”), or he gets defensive when someone (usually Yamato) calls out his plan for not being that great. But on the flip side, the fact he treats people equivocally and without distant weirdness allows him to have a sense of charisma to bring people together (it’s the very reason Koushirou was willing to approach him to begin with), and because he has a priority of pushing everyone forward productively with a sense of firmness, he’s able to conclusively make judgments and decisions during times others would hesitate. Even if they turn out to not be great decisions in the end, they’re still decisions that he consciously thought through to at least some degree, made for the sake of helping everyone and pushing them forward.

Yamato

Yamato’s archetype is one that goes down to appearance -- the cool-looking, bishounen rival who advocates for a more “rational and cold” approach in contrast to the lead protagonist’s hot-bloodedness, who looks down on him for being stupid and irrational, and refuses to get near anyone due to looking down on them (or the concept of having friends in general). This is to the point where his own voice actor saw his design and immediately expected him to be this archetype to the point of worrying that he might not be able to pull off this role, only for himself to find out that Yamato is the exact opposite.

Yamato is, in fact, one of the most openly emotional and compassionate people in the entire original Adventure group, and given that Taichi is actually someone who often is too chill and doesn’t take things seriously enough, Yamato is actually the one who actively instigates fights with him and escalates things to physical levels, because he perceives Taichi as being inconsiderate. His first focus episode (Adventure episode 3) has him completely go off his rocker for Takeru’s safety, but while Takeru definitely elicits the most extreme reactions from him, he really does escalate fights immediately the moment he feels sufficiently offended on others’ behalf. So in other words, “rational and cold” are just around the last words you should be ever using for Yamato.

Moreover, what seems to be detachment from the others ends up ultimately just being a byproduct of awkwardness -- even as early as Adventure episodes 6 and 18, he had no problems openly laughing and smiling with the others, and it was just his prior lack of friends beforehand that made him unsure of how to open up to others. Adventure episode 51 has him directly say in words what his actual reasoning for his awkward behavior and friendless background was: it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be near others, he was just so obsessed with being independent and self-reliant that he felt that he shouldn’t be dependent on others. He liked others’ company, and he didn’t look down on them at all -- he cared a lot about the others’ welfare, he was just averse to the idea of actually being emotionally dependent on others, until he was able to be snapped out of that mindset and able to understand that relying on others doesn’t indicate a personal failing.

These kinds of characters usually are fueled by some kind of pride or condescension, but in fact Yamato doesn’t have that at all (in fact, you could more accurately say that it’s insecurity more than anything). Even when he openly breaks down into a crying mess in front of everyone (he has the highest cry count in Adventure, at that!), he doesn’t seem to have any shame about having exposed some of the rawest parts of himself to the others -- think about how this archetype would usually get embarrassed about people finding out they’re “soft” -- and there’s no evidence that he has any sense of superiority whatsoever.

By the time of 02, since he’s portrayed as having become openly sociable and cheerful, for all intents and purposes, the only thing he has left in common with the archetype is just the fact he seems to be really into a sort of edgy aesthetic. Otherwise, he’s just as emotional as ever, makes even some of the funniest facial expressions in 02, is on fantastic terms with Taichi (it is very important that the single punch he lands on him is purely in a sense to snap him out of it and not made out of anger or condescension), and, really, if you want to say that he has a responsibility of reining Taichi in, considering Taichi’s penchant for being a little too assertive about his decisions, it’s just in the sense of lightly reminding him not to get too ahead of himself, which is not any worse than keeping an eye on a cat with a track record of getting into willful trouble. This is especially because, after all, Yamato is someone who has compassion for others’ welfare and feelings -- and that includes Taichi, too.

Sora

This kind of character is usually thought of as the “badass action girl”, especially since Sora is established as also being rather physically active much like Taichi, but one thing that often comes with this sort of character is that they often “have it together” all of the time and are seemingly implacable in personality. Adventure goes out of its way to indicate, even as early as episode 3, that while it is true that Sora has it together and is capable of pulling her own weight, she is also not a saint -- that is to say, she’s capable of having moments of pettiness, poor judgment, or irrationality like any other flawed human being. In fact, her first focus episode (Adventure episode 4) has her outright look down on Piyomon for being, in her mind, overly mushy and clingy and not really up for the job of protecting her, only to be proven very wrong at the end of the episode.

One thing Adventure and 02 don’t shy away from is the concept of “selflessness to the point of self-destruction” -- it’s good to be kind and considerate, but at what point are you doing so much for other people that you’re not properly taking care of yourself? In Sora’s case, the problem is defined as compulsive -- even when, in Adventure episode 26, she claims herself to be an inconsiderate person who doesn’t care about anyone and is incapable of love or affection, it’s revealed that, despite consciously thinking that, she’d still gone out of her way to help everyone behind the scenes in the last few episodes because she still couldn’t stop wanting to help people. Even her own flashbacks (and rather inaccurate testimony) about her past with her mother have a constant thread of her working for others’ sake more than she’s doing anything for herself.

In other words, being this image of a perfect, well-behaved, reliable person whom everyone can depend on no matter what is actually pretty unhealthy for her, because she’s capable of cracking under the pressure and not being allowed to be, well, a normal human being once in a while. Being that sort of person requires constantly catering to obligations (real or perceived) to others, which she’s unfortunately capable of falling so deeply in and not thinking of herself at all to the point she gets self-destructive. Because her problem with this is so bad, Jou and Yamato reaching out to her in Adventure episode 51 literally just involves reminding her about the sheer concept of personal will and volition, because without that, she’d basically considered herself a piece of the situation who does everything she does because that’s what she has to do.

And yes, indeed, a “lead” female character in this position would usually be played up heavily with the main lead male character, because media traditionally loves to hint that the sheer existence of a male and female lead with any kind of relationship whatsoever means that they have to be fated to be in love, but given the philosophy of not wanting to apply tropes unless there’s an in-universe rationale for it (of which “pairing the main male and female leads” is directly cited as one potential such trope), it is true that just because Sora knew Taichi from the soccer club and is usually the first-listed female character in Adventure doesn’t really necessarily indicate she should be obligated to fall head over heels in love with him (especially because they don’t interact nearly as much as you’d expect two characters with that kind of backstory to, and Koushirou, who’s also from the same club, hangs with him much more prominently) -- and in fact, when the issue of her love life does come up in 02, it’s treated as a very non-dramatic issue that becomes a background element of the narrative, which is not how you’d usually see the issue of romance or a love life usually treated in the kind of media that loves to bring that front and center most of the time. While the fanbase loves to treat it like it was some kind of love triangle, that kind of reading actually requires an extra dose of interpretation from a very ambiguously portrayed situation that ultimately isn’t given much fanfare by even the characters in-universe, because, really, two fourteen-year-olds dating is...rather commonplace and not actually that big of a deal, especially when compared to something like preventing monsters from blowing up the city.

Koushirou

Adventure actually has two plays on the traditional “nerd” character, separating the archetype into one who’s good with data and random trivial information (Koushirou) and one who’s good at rote memorization and doing practical calculations that are good for school environments (Jou). So already, there’s a bit of subtle nuance in the fact it makes this distinction at all, in that there are different ways to be “smart” -- Koushirou’s depth of knowledge is significantly less practically applicable than Jou’s in most ordinary situations and isn’t tailored well to institutional expectations like school and exams, but he has a much wider range of things he knows about and ends up more directly pertinent in regards to his knowledge about computers and data analysis.

In any case, a “smart” character would often have an angle of being condescending, i.e. lording over others that they know so much more than them and knowingly being showoffs as a result, or actively disliking people and considering machines to be superior. In the case of Koushirou, however, it’s established that while he does have a certain level of intimidation around other people and find himself more comfortable around his computer, and while he can get absorbed in gathering information or rambling off about things because he’s passionate about it, he doesn’t actively dislike nor look down on others (rather, he’s actively intimidated by them, according to Adventure episode 38), and he states outright in Adventure episode 10 that he doesn’t want to spurn Mimi nor does he care about his computer more than he cares about others, he just genuinely thinks that what he’s doing right now will benefit even Mimi in the long run, too.

Koushirou may not be experienced in dealing with other people and may be a bit uncomfortable in high-pressure social situations, but at his core he’s a very kind and compassionate person who cares about others! The fact he’s constantly polite to others isn’t just out of awkwardness, but also out of a genuine desire to keep courtesy and distance, and as the series goes on it turns out he really is as polite and humble as he sounds -- he’s doing it because he’s shy, not because he considers himself above the others, and by Adventure episodes 38 and 54 he says that he would like to be able to speak more casually and be closer to others, it’s just that it’s going to take some time for him to do so. And even if he does mess up a social situation, if he’s informed he’s messed up, he’s easily capable of taking this to heart and trying to do better (which makes up all of Adventure episode 10 when he eventually realizes he went too far with Mimi). Just because he may not be fantastic at handling the fallout doesn’t mean he doesn’t fundamentally care or want to minimize harm to others. Not only that, he’s also one of the youngest in this group, and for all it’s worth, he shows every indication of being properly respectful of his elders from his position.

Moreover, while Koushirou is so heavily associated with his computer, the series doesn’t take long to establish that the computer really is not the focal part of his character as much as it’s the concept of “gathering and analyzing information”. However much knowledge Koushirou had gained prior to the series, and whatever tech skills Koushirou may or may not have (if you look closely, his tech feats aren’t actually that impressive within the scope of Adventure and 02, and a lot of what he does in terms of tech feats is heavily outsourced), are considered relatively unimportant in comparison to his actual attitude about it, which is that he never stops wanting to learn more or dig deeper into things whenever something’s piqued his curiosity. The conflict in Adventure episode 24 that establishes the true, functional meaning of the Crest of Knowledge has very little to do with computers at all, but rather Koushirou insatiably pursuing more about the Digital World itself and Gennai, and, really, the topic could be anything as long as it’s new and interesting -- it’s just that computers (especially ones connected to the Internet) are a convenient place to gather and analyze different kinds of information, and the Digital World happens to be an absolute treasure trove of new things to discover.

In other words, Koushirou knows a lot of things not because it gives him some status of superiority over others for being “smart”, but rather because he’s genuinely passionate about exploring and learning about things, and you can also see it in the difference between the way he approaches “gathering” information versus “disclosing” information. During times he’s focused on gathering or analyzing information, he focuses on it and tends to shut others out because he wants to make sure he’s uninterrupted and can get every little detail out of it, and whenever he’s talking to himself, others might sometimes get lost in his rambling, but whenever he’s put in a situation where it’s of importance that he explain to others (examples being Adventure episodes 19, 28, and 42), he clarifies when people have questions, sometimes checks to make sure everyone’s still following, and, in general, has no sense of condescension about the fact he knows more than them, with the implication that wants the others to be able to understand and appreciate the information he’s passionate about.

Koushirou is also one of the most visible seniors in 02, because as someone whose defining trait was “curiosity and inquisitiveness”, it stands to reason that he’d be the one most curious about what his juniors are getting involved with, what’s going on with the Digital World, and anything else to do with it (hence why he occasionally asks his juniors to test things for him, such as in 02 episode 17, and hauls himself all the way down to Tamachi to pick Ken’s brain about anything he knows in 02 episode 33). Again, like in Adventure, his character portrayal actually has very little to do with computers, despite what the imagery and archetype would suggest -- it’s more about how he’s now become able to take a leadership role like that of the computer club and start coordinating and organizing people to be able to figure out even more things, while also being able to personally unravel more of the mysteries behind the Digital World and the story itself.

Mimi

Coming from a background of being a bit pampered and spoiled, Mimi aligns a bit to the “pretty girl” archetype that generally has a few things associated with it -- someone who might be a bit materialistic or fixated on appearances, and someone who’s a bit condescending or high-horse in compared to others. So it’s interesting that Mimi is actually portrayed as, for the most part, not that absorbed about appearances or materialism (it’s not to say she doesn’t care at all, but any references she makes to appearance are vanishingly rare in the series, and she’s even willing to warm up to the Numemon or Scumon/Chuumon and not hold grudges against them), and in fact all of her “complaints” that she makes in the early parts of the series are meant to be in line with what an average child would have in her situation. Complaints like “I don’t like this” in reaction to little things like having to get dirty or endure something tiring aren’t complaints she makes because she looks down on it as much as she’s just had a very sheltered upbringing that hadn’t involved a lot of hardship, so now that she has to grit her teeth and go through a lot of difficult things, she simply has low tolerance and high sensitivity and is having difficulty coping.

Beyond that, Mimi is consistently portrayed as likeable and devoid of malice or condescension towards anyone -- so much to the point that even at the beginning of the series, she saw no reason to look down on Koushirou or make fun of him when her classmates did, because she didn’t see why she should. Mimi is said to be someone who is so naturally likeable that she has no problems making friends with anyone, which is why she’s the one who’s able to gather together allies at the end of Adventure -- because she lacks condescension or malice, and is compassionate enough to never get on the wrong foot with anyone, everyone ends up able to get along with her with no problem. As one of the youngest in the group, she’s polite to her elders and uses proper honorifics on everyone, and moreover any lashing out she does is purely defensive and not aggressive towards others. She lashes out because she doesn’t like herself or her friends being hurt, but otherwise she doesn’t care to do anything cold or rude towards others, nor have a grudge; her first focus episode (Adventure episode 6) involved her having absolutely nothing but "they don't seem like they're having fun" towards everyone making fools of themselves in front of her, and she even goes as far as to outright call them her “friends” at a time in the series when everyone barely knew each other! This is also why 02 depicts her as having already made a ton of friends in America (such as Michael, or the attendees of the huge party in 02 episode 14) despite having been there for only a year; she’s that likeable to the point she can get along with people from even an entirely different country easily.

Mimi is “extremely empathetic”, which means that she won’t cause harm or pain to others because she herself feels their pain when they’re in trouble or hurt -- the closest she got to being on a power trip was her “princess” mental health crash in Adventure episode 25, which almost immediately led to her having nightmares about everyone feeling betrayed and potentially hating her and turning around in less than one night. Hence, she won’t do anything to hurt others’ feelings, because she herself feels hurt if she does. However, that means that once the Dark Masters arc kicks in and many of their friends are hurt and killed in the process, her feeling every bit of that makes her the first to take it the hardest and become unable to fight (and, by extension, is very tied to that “extra sensitivity” that made her so sensitive to pain or unpleasant experiences at the beginning of the series). Mimi is consistently portrayed as a pacifist, and while many other shounen battle series would portray this as a weakness, Adventure episode 50 establishes that while it of course isn’t good for her to sit around doing nothing, it would be inhumane to force Mimi to personally participate in something that causes her so much pain, and instead may be better channeling her abilities to bring people together by amassing allies and contributing to the struggle in other ways. While Mimi does eventually get herself together enough to participate in the direct fighting in Adventure and 02, she never gets portrayed as someone who enjoys it for the sake of it besides the end goal of protecting others, and in 02 her ability to bring people together and not hold grudges is a much more significant influence on her juniors (especially Miyako).

As a side point, this kind of “pretty girl” character is often also stereotyped as being rather lacking in common sense or airheaded, but while Mimi certainly isn’t the paragon of intellectuality compared to some of the others in the group, she’s never portrayed as particularly lacking in common sense, and in fact her sense of empathy and sensitivity makes her very able to “read the room” and say things or act in ways that are in fact extremely helpful to others. “Emotional intelligence” is a fairly prominent character trait for many characters in Adventure and 02 (particularly in regards to Digimon partners), and, especially in a narrative where the characters are dealing with a lot of stress and emotional issues, is no less important of a role in terms of figuring out what’s going on and figuring out the best possible solution for everyone going forward.

Jou

Jou’s got two archetypes going on here: one being the “studious nerd” type (touched on earlier in Koushirou’s section), and one as “the oldest and therefore most responsible” -- except we quickly find out that Jou is extremely stress-prone, often high-strung, and not particularly put-together (especially because, as it turns out, he’s actually the youngest of his own siblings, meaning he’s not particularly used to being in the role of the oldest). Nevertheless, he takes his role as the oldest very seriously, but the way it’s played is interesting: while he initially seems like the type to hold his position as “the oldest” over everyone and act as if they’re obligated to treat him with respect, Jou actually doesn’t have any indication of caring that much about status or esteem as much as he considers himself obligated to fulfill the role of the oldest and take care of everyone. Hence, why he’s willing to even throw himself recklessly on a Unimon in Adventure episode 7 -- he’s a very selfless person whose main drive is to protect others and help people more than he cares about his own status.

That extends to his role as a “studious” person too -- someone like him who comes from an “elite” family of doctors would often be portrayed as someone who themself cares about the prestige and honor of being a doctor, or at least is proud of being an honor student over everyone else, but there’s no indication in Adventure or 02 that Jou has any interest in the act of studying itself or the status that comes with it as much as he considers it part of a “comfortable routine” that’s integrated into his life, especially compared to the stress of being in an unknown world (Adventure episode 6 even has him preface his statement with “don’t laugh at me,” acknowledging how unusual it would normally be to miss something like studying). Adventure episode 35 has him be mostly rather unfazed about getting a bad grade, past an initial (understandable) bout of disappointment, hinting that this whole affair is actually him going through the motions moreso than he has any real attachment to this lifestyle. Jou doesn’t have a condescending bone in his body, and in fact a lot of his behavior has heavily to do with high stress and a feeling of obligation to help others.

Eventually, via his brother Shin, Adventure episode 38 clarifies the reason for Jou’s behavior of being the “studious type” yet also not really being into it all that much -- Jou’s doing this out of his obligation to his family more than he even personally cares about it, and the “elite” track of being a doctor was never something he personally wanted as much as something his father wanted of him. So in other words, Jou had no personal investment in status and thus can’t be motivated to do something with passion unless it’s something he personally has a reason for wanting to do. He certainly was very motivated to throw himself recklessly into situations where he could sacrifices himself for others in Adventure episodes 7, 23, and 36, because it was a no-brainer that he wanted to help people, but something like the status of becoming a respected member of society is comparatively nebulous and vague to him, especially since, as per Adventure episode 38, he has a phobia of blood that makes the profession outright uncomfortable to him.

Because Jou is the kind of person who wants to do his best for others’ sake and help others, it’s only when he rationalizes that with his father’s desire for him to be a doctor that he’s able to form a desire for it -- namely, the Dark Masters arc has him witness pain and death, and combined with him outright coming to terms with the fact that he's not that great at fighting to begin with (in Adventure episode 50), he decides that the Digital World is rather lacking in healers and that he needs to be there for them. Hence, why his goal to become a doctor is still “unexpected” in its own way, because he’s not doing it for the status of becoming an “elite” doctor the way his father wants him to, but rather one specialized in helping the denizens of the fantasy world that society isn’t all that aware of. It’s also why, in 02, he seems to be fairly unfazed by the prospect of having to temporarily ditch his studies in order to get Gomamon or his juniors out of a pinch -- because if he allowed there to be casualties on his road to becoming someone who can help people, that’d be pretty hypocritical.

Takeru

The “designated kid character” usually manifests in one of two ways: one who’s an immature brat who often causes a lot of trouble, or one who’s much weaker than the others and holds the others back from constantly being emotionally overwhelmed. While neither of these are really things you can blame a child for being at this kind of age for being (especially in such a stressful situation), Takeru is nevertheless neither. Mainstream media, and sometimes even people in the fanbase itself, will talk about him being a “crybaby”, but Takeru’s moments of breaking down into tears or having extreme emotional reactions in Adventure are actually quite uncommon (Yamato’s moments of such outstrip his by a landslide, and almost all of the situations Takeru ends up that way aren’t particularly more unusual than any of the other characters in this cast, especially Mimi).

In truth, Adventure episode 43 makes it clear that Takeru detests the idea of being a “ball and chain” holding everyone back, so, as a result, he’s going out of his way to be “put-together and well-behaved” -- hence, why he, as one of the youngest, keeps on his best behavior in front of his elders and has a constant sense of responsibility. Moreover, there are multiple indications that he’s covering up his own emotions to unhealthy extents as part of his attempt to be so “put-together” -- he has moments where it’s obvious he’s thinking about the impact of his parents’ divorce (a freeze-frame in Adventure episode 3, his reminiscence in Adventure episode 12, or his talk about dislike of “family” getting separated in Adventure episode 26), but constantly tries to veer away from the topic or even lie about it (see Adventure episode 12 where he basically pretends he doesn’t remember anything at all about his young childhood despite the fact that we as the audience are shown that he very much did).

The fact that 02′s incarnation of Takeru has him show a lot more viciously negative sides of himself may catch one off-guard, and it’s sometimes been said by observers that he seems to have taken a mysteriously nasty turn in his personality, but, in fact, Takeru’s habit of being dishonest about and hiding a lot of negative emotions had existed as early as Adventure -- observe him blowing a complete irrational fuse at the well-meaning Tokomon/Patamon in Adventure episodes 22 and 33, just because things had hit him a little too closely (the latter episode is especially notable because Patamon’s statement had been completely innocuous for the most part, only for Takeru to suddenly get angry at him). Such a thing isn’t something you would have expected from an eight-year-old child, given that the archetype is usually portrayed as “innocent”, but it had remained largely unaddressed by the end of Adventure, and it’s only natural it would have gotten worse over the three years in between Adventure and 02, especially as Takeru became older and more independent. When Iori points out the strange “duality” between the kind and cold sides of Takeru in 02 episode 34, he’s really just directly stating what had been going on since the very first episode of Adventure.

That said, it’s also not like Takeru’s trying to be dishonest or guilty of subterfuge -- it’s just that his coping mechanisms are very poorly developed and that he’s constantly trying to keep the peace and come off as pleasant while suppressing all of his negative emotions under a smile, only for things like anger and personal grudge to explode all at once at inopportune times (his punching of the Kaiser in 02 episode 19 being the most famous, but you can see traces of it emerging even beforehand in 02 episodes 11 and 13 whenever things get a bit too personal, to the point it almost jeopardizes his ability to help Hikari in the latter). Hence, why the positive development for Takeru by the end of 02 involves him becoming someone who’s better able to express his thoughts and feelings with the help of Iori, who, despite being younger than him, is also significantly more blunt and straightforward.

Hikari

Being tied to a Crest that’s linked to “life itself”, Hikari comes off as the sort of saintlike figure who has purity of heart all the way through and has nothing but peaceful thoughts about everything. However, a lot of her appearances in Adventure were heavily impacted by context -- other than the fact she was sometimes held back by illness, Hikari was otherwise portrayed as an ordinary playful and cheerful young girl, and there are multiple layers to her character added or enhanced in 02 that indicate that she’s not quite the saint that her archetype would suggest.

For one, like with Sora, we again see how “excessive selflessness” can actually lead to self-destruction if left unchecked: Taichi states outright in Adventure episode 48 that Hikari’s penchant for putting others before herself means that she won’t do anything for herself even if it results in self-harm. Hikari herself confirms this in 02 episode 31, stating outright that she compulsively cannot express her own feelings even if she wants to, to the point she’s outright jealous of Miyako for being able to do so. Because she’s so inclined to not burden others and to work for others’ sake instead, when something bad is about to happen to her and only her, such as the Dark Ocean-related incidents, she can’t bring herself to do anything and is forced to either rely on others’ help or simply resign herself to her fate.

That said, Hikari is also not characterized as someone who’s passive in general; because this passivity is tied to “excessive selflessness”, anytime the issue has to do with anyone else’s sake, she doesn’t hesitate and will even be firm in taking a stand. She’s so assertive that she even momentarily freaks Miyako out in 02 episode 18! In the end, it’s a textbook case of “it’s easier to do it when it’s for other people, but harder to do it when it’s for yourself, especially when doing it for yourself means bothering others,” and this is also something that had dated back as early as Adventure, when she’d made a lot of fairly independent decisions about things she felt strongly needed to be done, like giving herself up for everyone's sake in Adventure episode 36 (very much against her friends' will), or standing up for the Numemon in Adventure episode 49, or even being much quicker to accept the inevitable need to kill an enemy than the emotionally wrecked Miyako in 02 episode 44, because they’re all things she truly and strongly felt needed to be done for the sake of others.

Plus, it’s also not like Hikari’s such a pure-hearted, saintlike person who can do no wrong even at the base level -- 02 episode 6 indicates that she’s not above toying with Daisuke’s feelings for her in order to get what she wants, and in general, the fact she’s aware he likes her but isn’t doing anything about it has both the nuances that she probably doesn’t want to hurt his feelings but is also capable of exploiting an extra level of leverage over him as well. The fact that Hikari is seen as “charming” gives her a certain degree of power of persuasion to get her way, and it seems she’s quite well aware of it...

As the younger sister of Adventure’s lead protagonist, Hikari’s often also stigmatized as having some kind of unhealthy fixation on her brother, or a brother complex (also a rather common anime trope among “younger sister” characters), but this kind of reading requires a huge amount of exaggeration and extracting the relevant lines out of context; at no point in Adventure or 02 is Taichi and Hikari’s relationship portrayed as particularly unusual relative to a reasonable level of concern a pair of siblings that get along should have, especially since any behavior that is particularly notable or unusual or dependent is strongly contextualized as having to do with the above issues regarding Hikari being potentially self-destructive if left to her own devices, and how both Taichi and Hikari react to it (hence why the problem is ultimately addressed most effectively by Miyako, who has no real personal stake in the siblings’ relationship).

Daisuke

Daisuke has been stated outright by Adventure and 02′s director Kakudou to have “the most anime-like personality”, and it is true that even going beyond his base profile, a lot of his characteristics are much closer to that of an idealistic shounen anime protagonist than Taichi’s are, including (as the article in question points out) that he’s a lot more “hot-blooded” on principle but suddenly loses his head when around a girl he likes. Past that, however, there’s a lot of depth going on that reveals that Daisuke is in fact quite the deceptive character.

The first thing you might realize after watching Daisuke closely enough is that while he may initially seem aggressive, he’s actually not very assertive or aggressive at all, especially in the earlier parts of the series. It's very common for the others to shut him down or overturn his opinions in the earlier parts of the series, no matter how much he may ostensibly seem argumentative about it -- he very quickly backs down, at worst seeming a bit irritated, or even going into full-on disappointment with “Oh...okay...” Hence, why Kakudou refers to him as being “prevented from doing very much in the first half,” because for the most part a lot of the decisions made by the group in said first half are made by the entire group in agreement more than they’re made by him specifically, and becoming someone who can make more firm statements is a major point of his growth throughout the series. The first major moment he’s able to do such a thing is 02 episode 20, where, despite everyone’s opposition, he continues to assertively put his foot down that he doesn’t want to pull back when doing so could result in more victims -- and that ultimately becomes the start of him starting to be more confident about doing things even when others disagree with him. Even when he does become more assertive, at no point is Daisuke ever said, in-universe, to be the “leader” of the 02 group as much as he’s simply the one giving them the drive to move forward while they all work things out as a group.

Beyond that, another point that comes out of this is that Daisuke is actually a very deeply emotional person, which means that he has very strong emotions in every direction, including those of empathy and kindness. In fact, similarly to Mimi, Daisuke’s “abrasiveness” and “lashing out” are more defensive than him ever going on the attack, since he usually does this when he feels like he’s being put on the spot, or insulted, or is suspicious. There’s a reason I like to compare him to a puppy with a louder bark than its bite -- said puppy might bark at anything it doesn’t like or understand, or get pouty and offended at times, but also will immediately switch to open adoration or genuinely wanting to make you happy, and that’s also Daisuke in a nutshell. You may notice that he never, ever says anything condescending towards others nor does he dunk on them without reason, and 02 episode 7 indicates that if he realizes he’s stepped over the line, he won’t hesitate to apologize -- something that Taichi, who often veered into the insensitive, was rather bad at doing. Moreover, whenever something deeply hurts him, he also becomes genuinely, truly upset about it -- see him openly weeping over Wallace’s problems in Hurricane Touchdown despite having just met and bickered with him, and him being very audibly on the verge of tears during the situations in 02 episodes 20, 26, and 43 (Kiuchi Reiko’s acting especially brings this out). He’s a dramatic person with an extreme emotional reaction to everything, and that often means blowing small things out of proportion, but it also means that he really, truly does feel for others and care about things with large stakes.

In addition, someone who’s this sort of “hot-blooded” would usually also be portrayed as self-absorbed and arrogant, but Daisuke reveals as early as 02 episode 8 that he’s actually extremely humble -- he knows when he’s out of depth, acknowledges when others are better than him (such as knowing even from the very beginning that he was likely to lose against Ken and the Tamachi team), and actually just enjoys being around others on sheer principle. Read between the lines and you’ll realize that a lot of his behavior actually comes not from arrogance but rather insecurity -- he doesn’t expect anyone to adore or respect him, rather, he ends up running himself in circles trying to impress others (especially Hikari) because he wants the validation of them considering him cool. Hence why he never looks down on anyone nor insults anyone, because he’s much more confident in their awesomeness, and every time he’s around elders or respected seniors, he immediately takes a much more well-behaved and respectful tone in general. For all it’s worth, he’s a pretty deferential person, and has a genuine appreciation for even the little things in life, which is why he’s okay with running a ramen cart in the future -- sure, it’s not super-flashy as a career, but it makes him happy, and that’s all he wants.

So in other words, Daisuke likes people, and he likes his friends a lot; it’s just that his tendency to need validation from others, combined with his emotional tendencies to get really dramatic about everything, makes for a surface temperament where this isn’t immediately apparent. Even his original motivation for fighting comes not from liking fighting, but from his frustration that he wasn’t strong enough to protect others three years prior (also reiterated in the Adventure novels). In the end, pretty much everything he does comes from a desire to protect others and help them, which means that he of course resents those who hurt others, and it’s why he takes Ken exploiting his otherwise admirable abilities for harmful purposes so personally in 02 episode 8. Hence why Kakudou described him as having no evil in him, and that “the only thing bad about him is his head” (i.e. he’s not very smart) -- because once you get past the initial abrasiveness, he’s extremely friendly, all-loving, and loyal, and he isn’t malicious nor does he hold significant grudges.

Even Daisuke’s penchant for being “an idiot” is played a bit differently from the usual, because it’s consistently shown to be a byproduct of the fact that he’s “simple-minded” and doesn’t do well with complex thinking or overthinking, which, in many ways, is an asset as much as it’s a drawback. It means that he doesn’t do well with complex problems and isn’t very intellectual, and it also means that he gets overly suspicious at things that aren’t what they seem or aren’t being straightforward (which is why he initially gets so antsy around Takeru and Wallace, especially the latter, whom he was suspicious of before he started flirting). But it also means that he won’t easily get distracted by platitudes or overthinking, which, during situations where the simplest answer is the correct one, will sometimes conversely result in him being the smartest person in the room. Being so simple-minded gives him a certain degree of pragmatism; while everyone else is getting caught up in moralistic issues of forgiveness or non-forgiveness, Daisuke, who doesn’t get hung up on things like grudges, becomes the most open-minded towards Ken because he practically observes that Ken is not causing problems anymore and thus should be allowed to take responsibility for his mistakes, and also successfully dissuades Ken from recklessly throwing away his life in 02 episode 26 because, as “symbolic” as that kind of penance might be, it’s also very unproductive and will make things worse for everyone. It’s also why he’s one of the first to emotionally come to terms with the potential necessity for killing enemies in 02 episodes 25 and 43; it’s not like he enjoys it, but he’s the first to point out that if they hadn’t done it, even more victims would have been taken.

And as for Daisuke’s interest in Hikari: it’s basically there as a character note as to how Daisuke will completely lose his brain cells and bend over backwards when he’s trying to impress someone he has on a pedestal, and it becomes completely irrelevant to the plot and not even brought up after 02 episode 35, so while it’s not something that vanished completely (especially since it makes a return in post-02 material), it’s also treated as an example of one the many weird hangups that Daisuke will put aside when other things become more important, and an ultimately fairly shallow thing that he hasn’t thought through very clearly (he never directly asks Hikari out nor verbally expresses having a particular crush on her at any point in the series because he’s so wishy-washy about it, which is why she’s so easily able to dodge it), rather than a guiding part of the narrative or his character.

Interestingly, Daisuke’s unusual position as a shounen lead is hinted at even in franchise meta; you might notice he’s the only lead Digimon protagonist to be so heavily associated with blue instead of the warm colors of orange or red, and when you think about it, despite having Taichi’s goggles and supposedly having the “hot-blooded” personality, you could draw just as many parallels between him and Yamato, who’s also friendly behind all of the initial awkwardness and is also a passionately emotional person.

Ken

Really, the single most unusual thing about Ken’s character and his character arc is the fact that such a plotline even exists in the first place. How many series would take the main antagonist of the first half (not an underling, but the actual primary antagonist) and not only reform them but also turn them into the best friend of the protagonist for the second half? And not even in a “begrudging edgelord rival” sense, but legitimately the person who becomes a straightforward best friend with no standoffishness and full-on social-life supportiveness to the protagonist?

In any case, the entire concept of the Kaiser and his story is unusual even from the get-go -- we’re initially introduced to him as an “evil genius”, which is a common villain archetype because it’s very terrifying to have an enemy who’s one step ahead of you, but the Kaiser ends up being rather pathetic -- he’s constantly losing territory to a group of elementary school students, his “tactical abilities” have no real sense of scale beyond a soccer field sort of affair, he’s incredibly petty and will make irrational decisions just because his pride was wounded (see 02 episode 8), and seems to have no real long-term goal besides conquest for the sake of it. Eventually, 02 episode 20-21 reveals that he’d been doing this entire thing because he’d thought the entire thing was a game -- in short, he wasn’t taking this seriously at all, and the entire affair had been tantamount to an eleven-year-old throwing a tantrum.

The point being made here is that the facade of the so-called “evil genius” is significantly less brilliant than it’s made out to be, and, actually, when you think about it, Ken’s initial reformation is mostly kickstarted by himself and Wormmon moreso than it is the other Chosen Children, because while they’re there to drive the nail in, Ken had already been emotionally falling apart and realizing he wasn’t cut out for this for the entirety of the last handful of episodes, and it was ultimately his own realization and mental breakdown that did the honors -- the other kids were really mostly doing cleanup duty at the time, and Daisuke’s influence on him is more important to his process of healing than it was the initial calling it quits. Moreover, as we get to see Ken more in his proper element in the latter half of the series, it becomes apparent that the “true personality” of Ken is actually the more assertive, level-headed one, whereas the Kaiser was the childish and fragile facade; Ken is significantly more comfortable being in his normal element to begin with, and he’s not standoffish or edgy because he doesn’t even like being condescending. If anything, the Kaiser was a manifestation of him forcing himself into an uncomfortable mold in an attempt to emulate his brother, so of course he isn’t going to feel comfortable doing that once all is said and done.

While Ken in the second half does initially express some traits that can be misconstrued as standoffishness, because he’s significantly more level-headed and assertive in this state, it becomes clear that he’s not doing this because he looks down on the others or anything; it’s just that he has very strong opinions on what he thinks needs to be done, and he doesn’t hesitate to explain why he feels this way when he’s asked (he says outright in 02 episode 25 that he believes they shouldn’t be responsible for cleaning up his mess). 02 takes a stance of favoring the concept of “taking responsibility for one’s mistakes” over “penance and punishment”, so even though Ken himself does have moments of devaluing his own life due to his sins (such as in 02 episode 26), ultimately, he states that his primary goal is to fix the mess he started, and he’s not averse to working with the others for the sake of that goal. If he does initially push the others away, it’s simply because he thinks he’s burdening them too (and, likely, that he doesn’t feel he has the right to be around them), but even when he’s at his most irrational about this in 02 episode 30, he turns out to be fairly capable of being reasoned with in pretty short order. So he’s not standoffish or “edgy” just for the sheer sake of it nor for drama, and it’s why he ends up on a very conciliatory relationship with Daisuke and the others by the end of the series, with very little, if at all, in common with the usual “rival” archetype you’d expect in this kind of series.

Considering that Ken is characterized as “kind” and “soft”, it’s easy to not realize that he’s actually one of the most assertive people in the group, and more so than Daisuke (note that he never seems to be all that easily intimidated even when the universe seems out to get him, and in 02 episode 29 he even offers to do the “dirty work” of potentially having to kill an enemy in lieu of the other kids if push comes to shove because he knows they’re uncomfortable with it). Although the issue of the Dark Seed makes it ambiguous as to how much of his turn into the Kaiser was supernatural interference and how much of it was himself, either way, the series doesn’t try to absolve Ken of his sins just because there was something extra pushing him over the edge -- again, the series operates less on “fault” than it does “responsibility” -- and when you look at these kinds of traits, you realize that the Kaiser existed because Ken had always been capable of this kind of aggressiveness, he just doesn’t do it because he doesn’t want to unless it’s necessary, nor does he like it. It’s also why he banters so playfully with Daisuke in most post-02 material -- like many of the other characters in this narrative, being “soft and kind” doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a saint, he’s just someone who willfully chooses to be a good person for the most part.

Miyako

Miyako is a character who has a lot going on with her at once, having a ton of traits that you normally wouldn’t see combined into one character because they usually occupy separate archetypes (and, in a textbook case of reality being a lot less clear-cut than fiction, she’s the one character out of this group said explicitly to be based off a specific person). The fact she’s outwardly aggressive may make you think of the “badass action girl” type, but she’s also the kind who gushes over hot guys and fits the stereotypes of the “materialistic girly-girl”, and on top of that she’s a computer specialist working under Koushirou who begs the image of a “nerd girl”, and, unlike all of these archetypes, she’s a rather sloppy mess of a person who ends up loudly running her mouth, being prone to panic, and spitting out the first thing on her mind without restraint. On top of that, these traits tend to mix easily, so as much as she’s in-your-face about trying to physically fight things, she’s also the kind who’ll aggressively hug or dote on anyone she likes (which is a lot of people). Miyako is closer to the shounen brash hero archetype than even Taichi or Daisuke are, and yet is also closer to the “materialistic girly-girl” archetype than Mimi is at the same time.

Much like Koushirou, the part about being good with computers is much less of a prominent part of her character arc than you might initially think -- she herself doesn’t actually bring it up much during the course of the series, and, much like computers are an outlet for Koushirou to follow his thirst for knowledge and insatiable curiosity, Miyako’s connections with computers and tech have a lot to do with how she constantly goes out of her way to be helpful to others, such as being helpful to Koushirou as his junior, or helping out Iori’s mother with their computer (02 episode 1), or helping Yamato’s band (02 episode 29), or getting to do something helpful for the group in general (Diablomon Strikes Back). She’s not particularly show-offy or even all that fixated the actual subject as much as she’s proud of the fact she got to do something helpful and useful, and it ties deeply into her personal struggle with how to be capable of doing good for others when she’s actually not the striking image of a mature, put-together person who would usually be good at that kind of thing.

Miyako is consistently portrayed as having a complex about her “aggressive” tendencies -- she negatively compares herself to Mimi (02 episode 14) and Hikari (02 episode 31), on the grounds that she’s less put-together and more insensitive than them, and labels herself a “bad partner” for being such a sloppy person (02 episode 18). She does not want people to get hurt because of her actions, especially because whenever she loses grip on herself like this, that’s something that’s very liable to happen (which is exactly what happens with Hawkmon in 02 episode 18), and her tendency to be judgmental or to have no brain-to-mouth filter means she can be occasionally insensitive (see 02 episode 31). She even ends up fostering an idea that Hikari must be thinking of her badly, while she’s at it (02 episode 31)!

The end result of Miyako’s character arc is that, while she ends up needing to adjust the more negative aspects of her personality that involve causing trouble for others and being insensitive, that doesn’t necessarily mean that she has to completely change her personality to accommodate that. Hawkmon assures her in 02 episode 18 that he likes her the way she is, and, as it turns out, Hikari and Miyako both realize in 02 episode 31 that Miyako’s in-your-face, aggressive personality is very helpful when dealing with someone who’s so closed-in and repressive like Hikari, because it means Miyako has the right temperament to go out of her way and reach out to her despite how high of a hurdle that would normally be. On top of that, a consistent thread from the beginning of the series is that her over-the-top antics bring the group proper cheer, with the kids genuinely enjoying the vibrance she brings with her dramatic Digital Gate entrances, and multiple significant scenes indicating that her being dramatic and silly will make people laugh and be happy. So in other words, Miyako is capable of being emotionally supportive and helpful while also being her aggressive and messy self, and there’s no need for her to have to change herself drastically to resolve the supposed “contradiction” that one might initially think this poses.

Miyako’s also generally the first female character billed in 02 (mainly because Hikari’s returning from Adventure), but she isn’t particularly teased as having any romantic relationship with Daisuke; not that they don’t have a compelling rapport, but any idea of them having any real feelings for each other isn’t exactly stated to any significant degree over the course of the series. Miyako herself comments on multiple people being attractive over the course of the series, and it’s interesting in how this is played; the earlier parts of the series involve her completely losing her head and getting weirdly hung up and fixated on her targets of attraction to the point of getting derailed over more important matters (see 02 episodes 6, 8, 14), whereas she’s later able to express this in a lot more straightforward of a manner without being weird about it (02 episodes 38, 39), and so in the end, it’s not exactly a fundamental sin for Miyako to be open about the concept of attraction, especially as it ends up not really having a huge place in the overall narrative, which is consistent with Adventure and 02 not really treating romance or attraction as if it’s such a game-changer for these kids at this point in their lives.

Iori

Iori is the youngest in this entire group of twelve, and yet carries himself with a sense of maturity that goes far beyond his age, to the point he even comes off as one of the most mature in the 02 group despite being younger than all of them by a significant margin. Even taking into account the concept of the “precocious kid”, however, Iori’s not only polite but also very stoic and stern, meaning he often can come up with some really passive-aggressive or stern remarks (completely in polite Japanese). Of this entire group, the youngest one is the most likely to completely roast you with some well-timed statements.

However, one important fact to keep in mind is that Iori isn’t doing this because he’s “naturally” stoic or emotionless, but because he’s deliberately suppressing himself in an attempt to be well-behaved. (A really big clue in the Japanese version that Iori’s facade is “slipping” is that he ends up losing his composure and using casual Japanese instead of the polite form that he so constantly adheres to.) This is something that partially comes from his upbringing from his family, especially his grandfather, but even said grandfather is concerned that he’s a bit overkill in this regard (see 02 episode 6). By all means Iori should be allowed to express himself a bit more freely, but he keeps restraining himself and trying to be well-behaved in front of all of these elders that he develops a complex over the one time he allowed himself to act excited and cheerful in 02 episode 16, to the point the episode ends with Submarimon basically dragging him out on an undersea trip so he can enjoy something for once, dammit.

Iori is described as “clumsy at expressing himself as a child”, and 02 depicts the problem that comes out of the flip side of a young child being so mature that they have more comfortable company with older kids than kids their own age: Iori is outright isolated from his peers because of how different his mentality is from theirs (02 episode 3), and moreover, his stubborn insistence on doing things a certain way to the point even his grandfather thinks he’s overdoing it is, in fact, his own way of being “childish”. He’s basically trying to follow the honorable principles he wants to follow from his family, but taking them to their logical extreme because his view of the world is too simple-minded from his lack of life experience. Hence, why he develops such a black-and-white view of morality trying to categorize people into boxes of “good” and “evil”, and why he ends up trying to follow principles to pretty impractical extremes such as thinking that a single white lie is going to send him on a path to moral debauchery. In short, he’s a young child trying to deal with very abstract concepts much bigger than him, and dealing with it in a very simple-minded, overly reductive way befitting that of someone his age.

However, one thing Iori does acknowledge is that he’s probably not going about this the right way, and that he needs to understand more about others if he wants to do better. From the very beginning of the series, Koushirou (02 episode 2) identifies him as someone who has a “curious mind” like himself, but while he initially expects Iori to be like him in terms of being curious about the Digital World, Iori’s “curiosity” ends up manifesting more in terms of wanting to know about how humans work and what’s the right thing to do. This is how he ends up breaking through to the very convoluted and repressive Takeru, because he has the drive to poke through Takeru’s many layers and figure out what’s going on with him, and it’s how he eventually manages to become more open-minded about the issues surrounding Ken and Oikawa despite initially having been so hostile to them. All things considered, “understanding morality” is a pretty heavy burden for someone who’s supposed to be the designated kid character!

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #shihameta

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anonymousfiction211 · 4 years ago

Text

You always have a choice: 2

Summary: You and Loki went to his hiding place, after being locked up in prison on Asgard together. You still don’t quite trust the God and things get out of hand. Word Count: 2.857 words Warnings: Bit of angst, smut A/N: There are a few more chapters coming. I will post them every thursday. This is an alternate timeline. Loki has encountered Asgard and helped Thor fighting the Dark elves. After that he took over Asgard, was caught and thrown in jail. Hope you like it <3 Click here to read chapter 1

The morning light shone trough the window and awoke you. Your hands roamed the space next to you. Your eyes snapped open when you didn’t feel anyone next to you. You sat up straight and scanned the cottage. You didn’t see anyone. You slowly got out of bed and stalked around. Loki was nowhere to be seen. Panic was starting to rise. You were stupid to believe that you could trust the God of Lies. He was gone, with the Tesseract, probably to save his himself. And you, you would die a painful dead, alone. Worse, he had used you. He could have taken off the moment you arrived here, but no. He probably just wanted to fuck you, which explains his way of fucking you. And you foolishly believed that he actually cared for you.

At this point you starting to search around the cottage for your clothes. You needed to move and fast. You dressed yourself and went to the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt to grab some knives you could use as a weapon. The front door opened behind you, you turned around with two knives in your hand. Ready to attack, whomever had entered. You were surprised to see Loki standing there, eying you. ‘What are you doing, darling?’ he asked you. ‘Where were you?’ you screamed at him. You were still standing in your fight stance, adrenaline rushing through you. You were expecting him to make the first move. He just holds up a bag and looked a bit hurt at you. ‘Getting something for us to eat’ he said to you.

It took a few seconds for you to calm yourself. You lowered your knives to your sides, but still feeling bit on edge, you hold onto them. Loki closed the door behind you and walked towards the table, he was standing on the opposite side of it. With a loud thump he threw the bag of food on the table. You noticed his breathing was faster than it was a moment ago. His hurt expression has made way for an angry one. Without saying a word, he held out his hand and the Tesseract appeared. He put it on the table and slide it over to you. When you caught it a lump in your throat began to form. Tears were pricking behind your eyes, but now was not the time to display any sign of weakness. ‘Just take it and go’ he said. His voice was monotone, and his face didn’t show any emotion. You looked at the cube in front of you and back to Loki. Even tough he didn’t show it, you felt like you had hurt him.

That’s when you realized, you needed him, but he didn’t need you. He would be perfectly capable of living his live, whilst avoiding Thanos at the same time. After all, he apparently was doing that for a very long time. In this situation you were dependent on him and he could easily betray you. He could have betrayed you from the moment you were in Odin’s vault together, he could have run of with the Tesseract by himself. Or worse, deliver you to Thanos himself, he could easily spin it like that was his plan all along and get back in good graces with Thanos. ‘I thought..’ you started but couldn’t finish the sentence. The way he looked at you, you knew he already knew the end of that sentence. ‘I know we were in each other’s way a lot and didn’t treat each other like we should have. But for you to think I would actually do that. If you really believe that, take it and go’ he said. ‘And if I were you I should hurry. It will only take a few minutes before the signal of that stone will emit and after that a few seconds for them to be here’ he took a long pause. ‘If you don’t and you stay, I already told you. I need you to trust me’ he said.

You slid the cube back to Loki. After all, what choice did you have? You put the knives down on the table. Loki made the cube vanish like he did yesterday. He walked towards one of the chairs, grabbed a book and started to flip through it. ‘Loki?’ you said, hoping that you could somehow apologize for hurting him. But Loki didn’t respond and kept his attention fixed on his book. You walked towards the bag and saw that it contained some food, which you had never seen before. You took out something that looked like bread and pulled off a piece. You sat down at the kitchen table and nibbled at the bread. It tasted nothing like on Asgard, but it wasn’t half bad. You didn’t eat all of it, the suspense in the room made you lose your appetite. You put the rest of the food away in the cabinets. When you turned your back you felt Loki’s eyes on your back, but when you turned around his eyes were glued to his book. When you were done you decided to give it one more try ‘Loki?’ you asked again. He still didn’t answer you. You sighed ‘I’m going for a walk’ you told him.

You walked towards the door and turned the handle. When you pulled the door towards you, it didn’t open. You started to wiggle the knob and pull harder, but the door still didn’t budge. When you turned and looked at Loki you saw he had a small smile on his face. ‘You’re not going anywhere’ he told you, still not looking at you. ‘Seriously? you asked, stunned by this sudden move. He wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement at your reaction. ‘Just trust me, darling’ he purred. ‘Loki, don’t be an ass. Just let me leave’ you were starting to get aggravated.

‘Oh, I’m being an ass? How would you call your behaviour?’ he countered.

‘Given my situation, completely rational’ you answered.

‘Concluding that I abandoned you when you woke up and arming yourself is rational?’ he had lowered his book and he locked his gaze in with yours.

‘Given who you are, I think that it is’ the moment the words left your lips you knew you regret them. But you had already said them, no turning back now. You flinched when Loki got up from his seat and strutted a few steps in your direction. It made you take a few steps back, until you felt the table behind you. There was only a meter of space between you and Loki, but you could feel the anger radiate of him.

‘That’s how it is? After everything I’ve done fore you? You knew that I didn’t have to help you. In fact, my life would be a lot simpler right now if I didn’t help you’ he yelled at you.

‘Then why are you helping me? I don’t understand’ you yelled back at him. There was a silence for a minute. You two were still in some sort of staring match and you refused to be the one who would lose. ‘How could you not understand after last night?’ he asked you. He was still angry, but his voice was much softer now. ‘What? Because you told me you never let me go? Guys say anything when they just hade some’ it felt like an outer body experience. You literally saw yourself fighting with Loki like you were a third person in the room. And when you heard yourself, even you didn’t understand yourself. No wonder you were alone, you had no friends, always bouncing from place to place, the only ever solid relationship you had was an enemy. And that was Loki. He closed the distance between you. His hand went to your cheek and you flinched, expecting a hard blow. The blow never came, instead you felt the back of his index finger stroking your cheek. ‘I thought last night meant something. Apparently I was wrong’ he pulled his hand away from you and his soft voice was replaced with one of spite.

He took a stab back. ‘Loki, I didn’t mean…’ you started. Trying to explain your behaviour, even if you didn’t quite know where that explanation was going. ‘I help you, I protect you, I keep you safe and I’ve shared my bed with you. In return you think the worst of me, don’t trust me, and use me to escape your fate’ he said. There was no emotion in his voice, and that was worse than the anger and spite. ‘We have history, how do you expect me to forget that?’ you said. ‘I don’t, but even if I trapped you, or left you, it was only in situations which I knew you would be able to handle on your own’

He walked towards the door and opened it. ‘Trusting someone is a choice. I’m the God of Lies, so people don’t choose to trust me. Even after I had my brother’s back a hundredth times, even if he was the one who was acting stupid and irrational. People lie, a lot. But somehow, I’m the one who always lies’ he took another step, he was standing outside with the doorknob still in his hand. ‘Where you’re going?’ you asked him, still thinking about what he had told you. ‘I’m going for a walk. You can stay or go as you please’ he said. Then he took a deep breath ‘But right now, I trust you to be here when I get back’ and with that he closed the door and left.

And for the first time in your life, you felt utterly alone. You were always alone, you barely remembered your life when your parents were alive, or you had friends. How it all went wrong, you couldn’t quit tell either. But being on your own was something you were good at, you always had your own back. There were flashes of your time in Thanos his clutches. The way he explained his plan, and how he treated you. It made sense to be on his side and you were hoping to find a family there. What you found was madness, chaos, and destruction. But by that time, it was too late, you were in too deep. You felt your tears starting to stream down your cheek. The only thing you wanted right now was for Loki to hold you, but he wasn’t there. You were alone, because you pushed him away.

You quickly brushed the tears from you face and walked towards the chair Loki was sitting in earlier. It still smelled like him. The book he was flipping through was laying there. You picked it up and it wasn’t noticed it wasn’t a normal book. It was a notebook, and you instantly recognized his handwriting. Maybe it was invading his privacy, but you couldn’t contain your curiosity. On every page there was a different scenario on how he could escape Thanos. He had written them down and later commented on his own ideas. Some he thought to be useful and some he found later to be downright stupid. Halfway through the page you came across a page where the title was underlined multiple times. Even tough he couldn’t see Thor breaking him out of jail and requesting his help to fight the dark elves coming, he had planned to fake his death a long time. He was just waiting for the right opportunity. And Loki was cunning when he saw his chance he took it.

When you turned the next page, you saw that his change had changed. He had written down everything you told him when the two of you were briefly locked up together. After a few pages you saw different plans. Plans about escaping Thanos, but ending up together. You looked at the date and saw it was dated only a few days after the two of you were thrown in a cell together. Next to his plans there were again, little comments he left for himself. You saw a debate with himself about including you, whenever you did something to annoy him he would write it down as a reason to leave or betray you. But he had scratched all those thoughts and written down reasons to help you underneath them. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at Loki’s constant bickering with himself. When you turned to the last written page you were absolutely stunned. The last page didn’t say much, it wasn’t about a plan he had come up with. It just said:

Last night was amazing. But you need to come up with a better plan, quick. Let’s face it, life without her in it isn’t worth living. And maybe get her a few books so she stops stealing yours.

After reading that you put the notebook aside. You scanned his bookcase and started to read one of the stories. Trying to distract yourself from all the thoughts and emotions, you didn’t want to deal with right now. When you were hungry you ate some of the food. You noticed it was getting darker outside and wondered when of if Loki would come back. You stopped that thought and realized it wasn’t a question of if Loki would come back, but when Loki would come back. Because you decided he would come back. He had to.

You jolted awake when the door opened hard. You realized that you had been sleeping on top of the bed, waiting for Loki to come back. Loki walked in and slammed the door shut behind him. You noticed rain was pouring down and Loki was drenched. Water was dripping from his hair and his clothes on the hardwood floor. You were wondering why he hadn’t just teleported back. The two of you looked at each other. His emerald eyes seemed to glow in the dark. He walked towards the bed while stripping off his clothes. The only thing he was wearing when he crawled onto the bed were his damp boxers. He crawled on top of you, and you let him. His body felt cold from the rain against your own. He kissed you fiercely and you eagerly returned the kiss. His hand was under your shirt and fondling your breasts. When he heard you moan you felt him smile.

You took of your top, giving Loki better access to your breasts. He took advantage of that by trailing his kisses down your neck to your nipples. The way his warm tong swirled around your nipples made them hard. After he was done with one he moved to the other. His hand was at the hem of your shorts and underwear and in one smooth motion he pulled the down. You were laying before him, you returned the favour by undoing his underwear. He looked at you and you swore you saw him looking sad. He sighed and didn’t move. You hesitated a bit, but decided to take matters in your own hands. You pulled him in by his neck for a deep kiss. Your heart fluttered when he returned the kiss. He was surprised and you took that to your advantage to flip the two of you around. Loki was laying on his bed, letting out a soft groan. You were straddling his lap and felt our heated core against his erect cock.

At this moment you didn’t needed foreplay. You were already wet and ready for him. He moans loudly when you took his cock and slowly pushed it inside of you. You didn’t give him any time to overthink this and slowly started to ride him. Loki grabbed your hips and after a while starting to move with you. You were riding him at a slow pace which was adding to the intimacy. When you started to moan Loki tried to speed you up by taking control of your hips. You grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down on either side of his head. You were pinning him down whilst riding him. ‘(Y/N), I can’t hold off for long’ he whimpered beneath you. You felt all his muscles flex underneath you and knew he was trying to hold of until you were there with him.

You broke your kissing on his lips and necks and sat up straight. You guided one of his hands to your clit and he started to stroke small circles on it. When you were panting you felt Loki’s cock inside of you twitch and his seed spill. It triggered your own orgasm. Loki moaned your name shamelessly when he felt your wall clench around his sensitive cock. After your high ebbed away you pulled off him and laid you head on his chest. Your arms were around him. You felt a touch of his magic cleaning the both of you up and suddenly the two you were beneath the blankets. ‘I’m glad you stayed’ he whispered to you. ‘I’m glad you came back’ you whispered back before you fell asleep safely in his arms.

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eirikaanemo · 4 years ago

Text

Trust Fall

Warnings: Description of a panic attack

Venti x GN!Reader

2k Words

Venti helps you get over your fear of heights.

Things started out alright. You were at Angel’s Share with some friends, relaxing after a long day of work. “Jean works us to the bone. And I can’t even be mad at her! She does so much too,” you groan. Kaeya and Amber nod in agreement.

“I know how you feel,” Amber sighs. “Sometimes I really wish I could be mad about it but we’re so short on hands that she just can’t help it.”

“I’d almost blame Grand Master Varka, but he’s just too likable,” Kaeya commiserates. You all simultaneously take a good, long sip of your drinks.

“Wow, you guys look awful,” someone behind you comments. Amber glances over her shoulder.

“Oh, hi Venti,” she replies. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there.” You turn in your seat to see your boyfriend, Venti standing there. It looks like he’d just finished performing for other patrons and was ready to get some drinks himself.

He slid into the seat next to you and waved to Diluc, who was managing the bar himself tonight. “Dandelion wine, please,” he called out excitedly. Diluc rolled his eyes but slid a drink over to him and walked to the other end of the bar to serve other customers. Venti hummed in delight as he took a swig of his wine.

“You sure like dandelion wine a lot, huh Venti,” Amber remarked.

“Of course I do, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he proclaimed with a smile.

“And here I thought your partner here was the best thing that ever happened to you,” Kaeya mused loudly.

“Them too,” Venti agreed. “Both of them have a special place in my heart. I love them a whooooole lot!” You hid your face in your hands and groaned, hoping no one noticed your ears turning red.

“You know, if you’re doing that much maybe you should take some time later to relax and have fun,” Venti observed.

“Maybe we could go gliding together or something.” Amber considered it, but then noted, “That wouldn’t really work, with your partner being afraid of heights and all.” You pulled your head out of your hands to glare at her.

Thankfully Kaeya seemed to be too busy flirting with someone to have heard what Amber had said. Convincing him to keep it a secret would have been much harder. Glancing at Venti you noticed him looking at you, thoughtful and concerned. He’d definitely heard and you were definitely not ready to deal with that right now.

“Amber, I thought we agreed not to talk about that,” you whispered not-so-quietly.

“Oops,” Amber said sheepishly. “I forgot you were keeping that a secret.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed. “They know now so there’s nothing we can do about it. Just keep your mouth shut about it from now on please.”

She nodded vigorously. “I promise,” she assured you.

Kaeya seemed to have completely forgotten about you, chatting with yet another group, this time half-way across the bar. With your friends gone you took another sip of your drink and turned your attention back to Venti. He still looked contemplative, and it was starting to make you nervous.

Amber finished off her drink with a gulp. “Well, I’d best be heading home now,” she admitted. “I have to get up bright and early tomorrow.”

“Alright, sleep well then,” you wished her. “And get home safe.” She responded with a big smile and a ‘thank you’, and headed home.

“What’s on your mind, Venti?” You asked nervously.

“Are you really afraid of heights?” He asked.

“Well, kind of,” you confessed. “It’s honestly more like a fear of falling, to be honest. I’ve noticed that I rather enjoy the view when I’m confident I won’t fall.” He nods in understanding.

“And I guess gliders don’t really look all that trustworthy,” he ponders out loud. You nod sheepishly.

You consider your options, but keep coming back to how he seemed to have a longing look in his eye when he mentioned wanting to go gliding with you. He really did want to go. And he’d done a lot of things for you that he hadn’t really wanted to do. Maybe you could give this a try. Just for him.

“Well, do you think you could trust me?” He asks. You send him a funny look.

“Of course I trust you, you’re my boyfriend.” You explain exasperatedly.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head, “that’s not what I meant. I meant to ask if you would trust me to not let you fall.”

“Why do you ask?” You inquire nervously.

“Well, I would like to go gliding together sometime and I was thinking maybe I could help you feel better about doing it. Y’know, since I have an anemo vision and all. I could help keep you from falling."

---

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll give it a try.” The smile he gave you in response was almost enough to make it worth it all on its own.

“Thank you,” he exclaimed as he reached over to drag you into a hug. “I promise you won’t regret it!”

You regretted this already. Venti chattered excitedly as the two of you made your way up to the place he’d decided to glide from. Apparently it wasn’t as high up as some other places, according to him, and you were really grateful for how considerate he was being, but you still felt really, really nervous.

There weren’t just butterflies in your stomach, there were all sorts of other creepy crawlies that sent a shiver down your spine as you thought about what was going to happen soon. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you continued to follow Venti up the slope. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to not look over the edge to your left.

You made it to the spot much too soon in your humble opinion. Daring a glance over the ledge, you could feel yourself pale as you saw how small the trees looked. Without realizing it you started to breathe faster, slipping into hyperventilation with panic seeping into your bones and suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Visions of every way this could possibly go wrong flashed through your mind.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality. Venti had maneuvered you into a seated position and was gently humming a tune that you recognized to be one of your favorites. “Hey, come here, it’s alright,” he murmured softly. Shuttering, you tucked yourself closer to his side and closed your eyes. Focusing on your breathing you started to calm down. In, one two three. Out, one two three. In, one two three. Out, one two three.

When you had finally calmed down you chanced a glance at Venti, ashamed of your sudden reaction. Would he be angry? Maybe frustrated? Upset that you weren’t trying hard enough to do something he wanted to do? But when you actually met his eyes you saw nothing other than pure concern and worry.

“Are you okay if I hug you?” He cautiously asked. “I really want to help in any way I can but I know that sometimes people don't want to be hugged and need space and I don’t want to make things worse for you-” You cut him off by pulling him into a hug yourself. He carefully, slowly wrapped his arms around you and gently held you- not so tight as to make you feel trapped but not as loose as to make you think he didn’t want to hug you.

Pulling away quickly, you wiped the tears from your eyes. “No, no,” you exclaimed, “if you want to do this then I want to do this. Besides, I’ll have to face my fear sometime. And what better time to do it than when I have someone I trust there to catch me if something goes wrong.” A watery smile makes its way onto your face, your tears not quite ready to leave yet.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I know you really wanted to do this and I’ve messed it all up.” Your eyes were moist. You blinked. And you could feel tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“Shhh,” he whispered, “there’s nothing to apologize for. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I love you and want you to be happy. And if that means we don’t go gliding together, that’s okay.”

“How, uh, how exactly do I hold this again?” You inquire sheepishly. Venti quietly laughs a little, stands up, and walks over to you. He gently adjusts your hold and explains how to use the glider for what’s probably the twentieth time. Holding tightly to the glider you walk a little closer to the edge.

“Are you sure? You really, really don’t have to,” he said as he wiped some tears from your eyes.

“I’m sure,” you stated, determined to give this a try. For him.

“Alright,” he said softly, “just let me know when you’re ready.” You nod, take a deep breath, and stand up. Picking up your glider you turn it over in your hands.

Backing up some first, you started running and, closing your eyes first, you jump off the edge. “Open your eyes if you can,” Venti called to you. “The view is half the fun!” Then you heard him whoop as he jumped off the ledge to follow you, his glider already out and ready to catch him. You cautiously open one eye, then the other, as you choose to trust Venti and admire the view.

“Alright,” you start a little shakily. “How is this going to work?”

“Well, first you run to the edge and jump off the edge,” Venti describes. “Then you hold onto the glider until you reach the ground. I’ll make sure the wind doesn’t bother you.” You nod, determined to do this.

Just like Venti promised, no winds blew you off course. With his help and your trust in him, you somehow felt safe knowing that he could and would catch you if you fell. Because of this you were able to actually enjoy the view. He was right, it was beautiful and a lot of fun to see it grow as you gently glided towards it.

Eventually, and much too soon for your liking, you touched down to the ground. You fell to your knees and thanked Barbatos for your safety and for your amazing boyfriend. Even though you had been able to trust Venti, you felt yourself shaking from both remaining fear and the adrenaline running through your veins. You could feel more than hear Venti touching down behind you and jogging over to you.

“Are you okay? What did you think?” He asked carefully. You looked up at him and smiled.

“I think,” you said slowly, “that we’ll have a lot more gliding dates in the future.” He beamed and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m glad,” he whispered, “I’m really glad that you trusted me enough to give this a try. And I’m glad that you enjoyed it too.”

You grin and pull away again, this time completely. You laugh as he pouts at you, before picking up your glider and running back towards the slope. “Ready to go again? I bet I can make it back up first!” You tease him. His pout turns into a grin as he grabs his glider and chases after you. And that’s how the two of you spend the rest of the day.

You smile and pull back a bit to kiss him on the cheek and smile up at him. “Thank you for helping me overcome my fear, Venti. You’re the best partner ever.”

He blushes, pulls you back into the hug, and whispers in your ear, “No, thank you. You’re truly the best thing that’s ever happened to me, dandelion wine doesn’t hold a candle to all you mean to me. Thank you so much for being my partner.”

#eirika writes #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti #venti

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legends-of-apex · 3 years ago

Text

‘The Day He Didn’t’

Robbie Reyes/Ghost Rider x Reader (angst, fluff)

Word count: 5,100

Rating: T (tw for death and grief, brief suggestiveness)

Summary: *Spoilers for Agents of SHIELD season 4* You, an agent of SHIELD and long-time resident of the Reyes household, deal with the fallout from Robbie’s “death” in episode 8. This fic mainly explores the relationship you had with Robbie and how you come to terms with his death whilst trying to take care of Gabe in his absence. Based on this request for anon. Reader is described as female.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry in advance to anyone who reads this as there so much angst! Some fluff sprinkled in there as well but mainly angst! Hope you guys enjoy it all the same! Please feel free to let me know what you think ☺️

“Cariña?” You stopped dead in your tracks, almost dropping the bundle of paperwork in your arms at the sound of the nickname only one person in the world had for you. You turned to see Robbie walking towards you with Mack and Daisy, “What are you doing here?” he asked, surprise evident on his face despite knowing your profession. The only reason he didn't have many apprehensions about helping out SHIELD in the first place was because you worked for them so he figured they couldn’t be all bad.

“I work here.” You blinked just to make sure you weren’t seeing things, “What on Earth are you doing here?”

Worry instantly seeped into your pores, and knowing it would, he took your hand in his, silently telling you everything was alright as his thumb smoothly dragged over your knuckles. He’d always avoided the authorities like the plague and you worried he’d been captured for all he’d been doing as Ghost Rider recently but given the lack of hostility towards him from the others in the halls, you guessed he wasn’t some escaped prisoner and was working with your team.

“This is your civilian boyfriend from east LA?” Daisy asked, never putting two and two together. To her credit, there were probably thousands of mechanics living in east LA and that was all you’d told her about him for fear she’d go snooping. What were the chances your boyfriend would be the one guy with a flaming head that she’d been tracking down?

They left you alone to talk and the very first thing he did was wrap you up in his arms. You were due home from SHIELD that evening. Having been away for a little over a week, he’d missed you terribly. Gabe had too although he’d never admit it. You sighed into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek, unable to hug him back due to all the paperwork you carried.

Home had come to you rather than the other way around today, it seems.

“You know when I said I wasn’t worried about you working for SHIELD?” He grinned, “I’d like to officially retract that statement. The shit you guys have to deal with here is crazy.”

“Oh, you mean the guys with flaming heads and stuff?” You joked.

“It’s the ‘and stuff’ that has me worried now that I’ve seen it firsthand.” Your worlds weren’t so different after all and that worried him just because he knew how dangerous it was. You could take care of yourself, of that he was certain, but he never thought for a minute that you were dealing with the likes of him at your nine to five. Given how little you were legally allowed to tell him, he never asked and you never told.

“Oh please, I’m hardly ever in the field.” You assured, not wanting to worry him. What neither of you did was easy or safe but at least you got paid for what you did, he just got tired, “SHIELD is as safe as spy agencies come.”

Three days later Robbie was dead.

You quit SHIELD on the spot in favour of returning home to his little brother Gabe. Not only had the most important person in the world to him just died but the very reason for his demise was their uncle Eli.

You’d lived with him and Gabe for years, since Eli got sent to prison. Gabe had just lost the use of his legs and Robbie became the sole provider for the two of them. They needed you. And you needed them, and a place to stay. You got Eli’s old room. He didn’t mind, if anything he was glad the boys had someone looking out for them in his absence even if you spent half the week at work with SHIELD.

Robbie and Gabe still shared a room at the time despite their age but that didn’t last all too long once you moved in. Soon Gabe was sick of his brother’s late nights and when winter rolled around and the gas bill got too expensive, you were freezing in that room on your own. With the portable heater in Gabe’s room and Robbie sleeping in with you most nights anyway, it was the cold that finally pushed him out of sharing with his brother and into sharing with you.

Even though you’d been living with them for months, you and Robbie only really said you’d move in together once he shared a room with you. He kept your heart and your body feeling warm and safe. He was so endlessly, hopelessly warm in both body and mind despite everything. But it was when you moved in together that you started to notice something more than the trauma of what happened to him and Gabe that one night was bothering him. There was something very, very wrong with Robbie.

You even saw it in his eyes sometimes. The pain. The fire.

One night as you sat straddling his lap, gazing down at him with your hands braced against his strong chest, talking about what happened with Eli of all things when his eyes changed. They took on a molten orange hue. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it but it was the first time you’d not been otherwise too… occupied…to mention it.

“Your eyes-” you started but you had no idea what else to say. Suddenly the permanent smell of burn made sense and the late nights he said he spent at Canello’s despite the lack of extra income. The Ghost Rider had been all over local news channels. He’d been targeting the same gang that shot up the car with Robbie and Gabe inside. White supremacist gangs too.

His panicked eyes searched your face, desperate for any indication of what you were thinking. His thumbs rubbed circles into the outside of your thighs as you stared at the pillow beside his head, gaze unfocused before you finally swallowed and locked your eyes with his.

“Are you...” You didn’t need to say anymore, he saw the realisation on your face and he nodded immediately. He wasn’t able to voice the answer, far too paralysed with fear as to what your reaction would be but he was done hiding this from you. To his surprise, you flung your arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight it hurt.

You wouldn’t tell Gabe, you wouldn’t tell the cops or SHIELD and most importantly of all, you weren’t going to leave him because of it.

Since then it seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, made his steps a little lighter. The late nights he was out hunting were spent with you worrying about him since then, despite him assuring you that as long as that demon was in him he literally couldn’t die.

Most of the time you waited up for him so you could check him over and make sure he was okay, make sure his mind could ease and return to earth after the spike in adrenaline that came with the Rider taking over for a few hours. Although sometimes he was out so late that sleep took you despite your best efforts.

On one such night, he heard a soft mumblr of his name in the darkness of your bedroom, your voice quiet and strained with sleep. He felt his heart ache with the longing that laced it.

He crouched down at the foot of the bed so you could see that he was alright, that he was home, “Yeah cariña, I’m here.” He replied in a half-whisper, careful not to wake you up any more than you already were. He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead and recoiled at the temperature of your skin, “You’re freezing?”.

The heating got switched off again, but he didn’t need to know that right now. You made sure Gabe had the portable heater and a few extra blankets, knowing you’d have all the heat you needed once Robbie got home. “Got all the heat I need right here,” You tapped his chest softly. He was so inhumanly warm thanks to the hellfire bubbling within. Too warm for you to hold him for long in the scorching summer, but the perfect temperature for when the nights grew cold.

The moment he lay down beside you he was tugging you towards him, enveloping your body with his as much as he could. You nuzzled your face into his chest, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt. He tucked the covers in around your body before bringing his arm to rest across you, letting his fingers run a trail across your back.

“That better?” He asked and you nodded, finally able to exhale a breath at being a comfortable temperature.

“Yeah baby, thank you. Much better now you’re here.” His entire being radiated comfort, “Rough night? You look exhausted.” He truly did. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes and he seemed like he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I am. But it always makes me feel better knowing I get to come home to you after.” He pressed a kiss to the bridge of your nose, eliciting a giggle, “You comfy?” He asked and you nodded, “Good cause I ain’t moving till well past midday tomorrow.”

“And skip your favourite meal of the day?” You questioned all whilst settling down further into the mattress beneath you, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Baby, the only breakfast I need is nestled right between your thighs.” He was so close to sleep just then that you weren’t sure he even knew half of what he was saying.

You laughed, but your tone quickly sobered, “I was worried about you,” you hadn’t heard him come in. You only realised he was home when you woke up to the faint smell of burnt material filling your nostrils as it often did when he was around.

“You don’t gotta worry about me. You know I’ll always come back to you and Gabe.”

You hummed in agreement, “You better….”

“I will.” He affirmed, pressing his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes for the night as he did.

To his credit, he did come back to you night after night, day after day until the one day he didn’t.

All you could do was watch in horror as his own uncle impaled him with spikes of solid carbon. You had seen the look on his face when it happened. He knew exactly what he had to do but it meant breaking his promise to you and to Gabe but Ghost Rider did it for him anyway. At the very least it was quick for both he and Eli, at least he hadn’t suffered.

“He doesn’t even have a grave!” Gabe was in hysterics when you told him. Although the look on your face when you came through the door that day was telling enough of what happened. No body and no death records meant no grave. Nothing to remember him by except for the people who knew him and the emptiness in that house in his wake.

“Why don’t we go make one then, huh?” You offered.

That’s how the tiny wooden cross made its way into the back garden. A sharpened end so it sank into the ground right next to another one for Eli. It wasn’t much. But it was something and it seemed to make Gabe feel better about not being able to bury them. He prayed in front of it sometimes. Religion was big in their family but he’d never really cared for it until now, knowing their parents would be rolling in their graves with Robbie not having a grave or even a body to bury properly.

Both graves were adorned with marigolds. You brought Gabe to the market each week to buy more so the scent stayed fresh. He said they were usually reserved for Dia de los Muertos, the smell and vibrant orange colour was used to bring the souls of the dead towards an altar or a grave, but he said it couldn’t hurt to leave them there whilst the flowers were in season.

The only family he had left was gone in one fell swoop. Robbie always said he dreaded the day they’d have to bury Eli and add him to the list of family Gabe lost. The thought that he’d be on that list and added to the altar alongside his parents never even crossed his mind.

Despite everything, Gabriel decided to keep going to school and you couldn’t have been prouder of him for it. And you still helped him with homework, despite some of it already seeming like it was beyond you due to how advanced the content he was learning was. You helped him out with essays a lot as he struggled with those the most. Math and science were his true favourites, business too.

You sat at the kitchen table reading over an essay he needed help with as you often did. Although now there was no Robbie to come in from work and press a kiss to your head, or your neck if Gabe was out of the room. There was no one to mess up the neat part in Gabe’s hair or steal a chip from his plate. No comforting roar of the Dodge Charger as he pulled into the drive or rustling of the shopping bags or takeout that he’d bring home. No one to coax you into his lap or out for a drive to nowhere after dinner when Gabe went to his room to game with his online friends.

You missed him. You felt the loss of him in every sense of the word. Like there was a hole in your lives and that house.

It hit you hard sometimes and then the tears would leak. There was really nothing you could do to stop it. Gabe was the same although it was usually on weekends when they’d have spent the most time together that he got the most upset. That’s when he truly felt the loss. Robbie used to take him to a nearby arcade on Saturday mornings and they’d maybe catch a movie after, forever making sure that Gabe got the childhood he never had.

“I miss him. I miss him so much.”

“I know, Gabe. I know.” You’d pet over his hair as soaked the material of your shirt with his tears. And as much as it pained you to hear it, you were always glad he cried. In fact, you encouraged him to. It was healthy and Christ did that kid have a lot to cry about. You’d never forget the way he cried when you told him what happened. He hiccuped in both grief for his brother and uncle and the prospect that he was now well and truly alone. He didn’t expect you to stay with him, he didn’t think you’d want to so when you told him that you’d stay in what was now legally his house so long as he wanted you to, he cried even harder. Neither of you had to be alone and you’d been looking after one another ever since.

These days he made a point of always hugging you goodnight, something he never really did before. And you knew that it was because he was afraid of losing you too. You might not have been family but you’d always treated each other as if you were. Now you bonded over your shared grief of losing Robbie. He was still just a kid and you didn’t put any more strain on him than he already had but he often insisted on making breakfast or dinner, lunch sometimes too so you had something good to eat at work. Meanwhile, you worked to keep the lights on, took him to school or his friend’s house, helped with homework and generally kept his spirits up.

You even went to a parent-teacher meeting with him once. He’d very sheepishly asked if you could come and said it was borderline hilarious the number of guardians he’d had come in his dead parent’s place. First uncle Eli, then Robbie and now you. A few of his teachers remembered his brother well despite him leaving the school a solid eight years prior. His English teacher said she nearly quit when she learned there was another Reyes child who’d be passing through the school as if Robbie hadn’t already nearly given her a stroke in previous years. She said he wasn’t disruptive, in fact, he was so respectful and polite that she could almost overlook the fact that he’d miss class constantly in favour of beating the shit out of the kids who bullied others or working rather than doing schoolwork.

“If I had a nickel for every note I had to send home to his Uncle, I could afford to live somewhere way less shitty than here.” She probably didn’t realise that he had to work because Eli couldn’t afford to take care of them by himself, or why he dropped out at seventeen to work full-time so he could make sure Gabe wouldn’t have to.

Those parent-teacher meetings were a drag. But it was good to know that despite everything, Gabe was still doing well and still on track for a scholarship or two.

You adored Gabe.

For all his rolling over your toes when he went off in a huff or the days where it was difficult being responsible for your dead boyfriend’s little brother. But you loved him like he was your own little brother, and tried to love him just as Robbie did.

It was his eyes that sometimes got the better of you though. He’d say good morning and produce a plate of food for you, brown eyes beaming with the morning dew. And those eyes, the same as his brother’s in colour and size, would crush you and force the memories of all times you’d gazed into those similar pools right to the surface. Gabe never could understand why you got so upset, sometimes seemingly completely at random, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was because he had his brother’s eyes. That the sight of his likeness was enough to turn your composure to dust.

Part of you missed working for SHIELD too. You missed your friends and the good work you did at your job. You didn't, however, miss the uniform. But even seeing the logo now just reminded you of that day. Being a civilian with a civilian job was so strange to you. There was no dealing with aliens or anything nearly as threatening on the day to day but some small part of you missed it.

Mack, Daisy and Coulson came around sometimes. Mack mainly came to check over the Charger but his face was a friendly one and you were always glad to see it. Coulson and Daisy usually came bearing groceries and news of how things were at SHIELD, with Coulson still trying to convince you to re-join after you quit on the spot when Eli and Robbie died.

“How’s Gabe?” Daisy asked, knowing he wouldn’t let her ask him herself. He blamed her partially for Robbie’s death having warned her not to get his brother mixed up in anything so dangerous as SHIELD. He hadn’t known then what his brother did at night but even now he still won’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s good. Somehow still on track for Harvard if he keeps his grades up. He’s even got a girlfriend now.” You told her and she smiled, “I think he’s trying to distract himself, keep himself busy so he doesn’t have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone. Either that or he’s just putting on a brave face.”

Then she’d ask you the same thing she did every time she came to visit, “Are you doing okay?” and every time, you gave a weak “I will be,” in reply.

“Are you sleeping?”

“No, not really.” You were trying, truly you were. But every time you closed your eyes all you saw was the bright flash of orange that took him from you and every time you opened them you just saw the cold sheets at his side of the bed. When you did eventually get some sleep it was almost always whilst clinging to one of his old shirts on which his scent still lingered. You wouldn’t dare wear more than one or two for fear that you’d one day need to wash them all so you just cycled through his shirts until the smell on each one faded. It was the only way you could ever get to sleep.

Money was of course an issue and you received very little help from any authorities other than SHIELD due to the unorthodox nature of the situation. You weren’t a widow as you were never married and you couldn’t really be classed as Gabe’s guardian because of his age and your non-relation to him. But you’d sooner be damned than let him fall into the foster system. You’d do anything for that kid.

“SHIELD’s gone legit now. We can get you good lawyers.” Coulson said.

“Even with good lawyers, I don’t know how you’re going to sell the fact that the kid wants his dead brother’s girlfriend to be his legal guardian. Robbie doesn’t even have a death certificate.” Coulson’s heart was in the right place, it always was. But sometimes his optimism was misplaced.

Daisy’s eyes brightened, “We can forge one but Gabe would need to sign-“ you cut her off.

“No.” You stopped her from saying another word about it, “I’m not about to make him sign his own brother’s death certificate. He’s been through enough.”

It was a few weeks later when you heard a single creak in the floorboards at your bedroom doorway that was loud enough to wake you from what little sleep you had managed to get. It didn’t sound like Gabe’s wheelchair and he didn’t have any friends over so you were immediately on edge.

It smelt like something was burning, the air thick and bristled. You rolled out of bed immediately for fear that the house was on fire but then you saw a silhouette taking up most of the doorway. Based on the outline, it was a person and you stared for a second, just a second, before grabbing hold of the baseball bat at your bedside and making a move. When the shadow took one step inside your room, a hand outstretched towards you as the moonlight illuminated his features, you faltered and let the bat fall to the floor

“Robbie?” Shit, you must’ve been dreaming again. But you didn’t care.

You reached for him regardless, breath hitching when you touched something solid. You flattened your palm out on the centre of his chest where his jacket hung open, feeling the warmth and hellfire that bubbled within. His hand came to cover yours then and you looked up to see those brown eyes you’d gazed into so often and loved so dearly now damp and threatening to spill over with tears.

“I’m so sorry-“ he started but you engulfed him in a hug the second he opened his mouth. At that moment you couldn’t care less about why he wasn’t there, only that at that moment he was. You threw your arms around his neck when the tears started.

With a heave, he lifted your knees around his waist and carried you to the bedside where he sat with you in his lap.

He’d thought for so long about what to say and now that he finally had the chance, he told you everything. He told you about Eli, about the book of dark magic he’d read and been corrupted by was still around somewhere. How when he died, he clawed his way through hell. Literally. To get back to you. The demon inside him fought through hell to get back to that book and destroy it for good, he’d had the reigns fully in hell. Robbie was reduced to a passenger in his own body down there. Months without being able to live in his own skin.

“I can’t stay,” He told you, swallowing thickly, “He wants to take that book back.”

“Back?” You asked, already knowing full well what he meant. You just didn’t want it to be true.

He nodded solemnly as his jaw clenched, “To Hell.”

You held his cheek, searching his eyes. For what you didn’t know. Any indication he was kidding maybe? You didn’t find any. Instead, you only found pain and sadness. Guilt too.

“He said I can say goodbye to you and Gabe,” his voice cracked, “Then I have to go.”

He was lucky the demon allowed him that much of a privilege. It was only because the entire time he’d been in hell he had to deal with Robbie’s worrying, his longing nagging at the back of his mind. It was a courtesy only because he didn’t want to deal with that again.

“The thought of coming back to you has been the only damn thing that’s kept my heart beating. I would do anything to stay with you for good but I made a deal and he won’t let me stay until that book is gone.”

The last thing he wanted to do was give you false hope. He didn’t want you waiting up for him as you often did or putting your life on pause waiting for him to return when he had no idea when that would be. You deserved more and he wanted you to have that, even if it meant he might not have a place in your life when he did eventually return from the land of the dead. It wouldn’t be fair of him to expect that from you and so he never did.

He had that look in his eye he got when he was about to do something stupidly self-sacrificial for someone else’s sake and you weren’t about to hear it. Not now. You had a vague idea of what he wanted to say, that he never really deserved you in the first place and that he was sorry for all the pain he’d put you through, that he wouldn’t be upset when he got back if you chose to move on. But you knew he was damned and the risks and pain that came with it. And as much as he would never accept it, he was worth the pain.

You held him for as long as he could stay, knowing he was on borrowed time.

“Gabe’s got a girlfriend now. He finally made a move on Janet’s sister.” He blinked at you in awe, a smile spreading across his face, “You might wanna give him the talk before you go if you haven’t already.” As much as you loved that kid there was no way that was a conversation you were about to have with him.

He smiled wide at that and shook his head, “Already taken care of, chica.” They’d had that conversation far too early if he was being honest.

You held each other for what wasn’t nearly long enough to make up for the months apart. There was so much you both wanted to say and so little time to do it. You didn’t even know where to start, neither did he. So you just lay there in each other’s arms for as long as you could or until the demon got antsy.

You knocked on Gabe’s bedroom door and received a definitely still asleep reply.

“There’s someone here to see you.” You stood in his doorway, Robbie at your side waiting for Gabe’s eyes to open. When they did, he beamed and shouted in delight. You left them to it, not wanting to impose.

You waited in the living room, playing with the keys to the Dodge Charger in your fingers. When Robbie finally emerged from Gabe’s room, his eyes wet with hastily wiped tears, he made a beeline for you once more. “Thank you,” He kissed your forehead and tugged you as close to him as he could, “For everything you’ve done for Gabe. And for me.”

“He’s family and so are you.” You mumbled. He dragged a palm over his face again, wiping his tears.

“Gabe said I’m to ask you to marry me when I get back. To make you officially a Reyes.” You looked to him in question, “I told him that it was entirely your decision cause I’d marry you in a heartbeat. And it’s bold of him to assume you’d take my name.”

“Kid’s got some bold assumptions for sure.” You played coy, there was no way he was getting an answer out of you that easily. You knew he wasn’t asking you anyways, just telling you what Gabe had said.

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He laughed. The prospect of marriage would never be a question for the two of you, it would always be a conversation. Something you’d decide on together.

“Take it as an order to get your ass back here and find out.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you. Please come back in one piece.”

“I love you too, Cariña. Take care of yourself,” he closed your fingers over the keys to the Dodge Charger so they were safely caged in your hand, “and my baby.”

Oh, you’d take care of his baby alright.

With one last bone crushing hug and a kiss, he was gone again. And for the first time in months, you felt whole. Even if he was going back to suffer, to trudge his way through Hell once he got ahold of that book. The promise that he’d return to you for good this time was one you knew he’d keep, no matter how long it took him to do so.

It was enough for you and it was enough for Gabe too.

The next time Daisy visited she said it’d probably be the last for a while. She and the team were in hiding from the authorities. She said she didn’t have the time to explain.

“You okay?” She asked as she usually did, knowing Robbie had been back to you before going to help them get that book back so he could bring it down to Hell.

“I will be,” you replied, and for the first time in a while you meant it.

Tagging (the horni for Ghost Rider squad): @icy-spicy @spring-soldier

#robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes #ghost rider x reader #ghost rider #agents of shield #angst #fluff #my writing #fic #mine

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thinkingoutlouddblog · 4 years ago

Text

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

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